<h3> CHAPTER XXV </h3>
<p>In six days all was ready, and our Frenchmen sufficiently
refreshed from the nearest magazines to undergo
the labour of our desperate attempt. When the hour
was come I went to take leave of my Señorita.</p>
<p>'Sweet goddess!' said I, for she would not be otherwise
named by me, 'your faithful worshipper comes
to crave your leave to depart.'</p>
<p>'Madre de Dios!' she said, looking at me with wide,
frightened eyes. 'What new wild venture is this?
When will this devil cease to torment my people and
set us free?'</p>
<p>'Does my goddess then so long to change her
paradise?' I asked.</p>
<p>'Yes,' she answered petulantly, 'for her worshipper
loves her not and is faithless, or he would be content to
stay here in paradise. But no,' she went on, starting
suddenly up, 'you shall not go. I forbid it. You
will be killed, and I—I shall be left with these rough
men. You must stay and worship me.'</p>
<p>'Nay, let me go and worship you,' said I. 'Lip-service
is unworthy to offer at your shrine; I will go and bring
you better offerings than that, so you will give me leave.'</p>
<p>With such jesting talk I tried to win her free
consent, that we might not mar the pleasant comedy we
played. Still she would not give it, and I thought she
but held it back in her wanton way, wishing for more.
But at last her face quite altered, and she turned quickly
on me.</p>
<p>'Hold! hold!' she said. 'Your tongue has a devil.
You and your captain are devils together. Go to him;
but—oh, Gasparo, I have played too long—I have played
till play has grown to earnest. Go! but come back to
play no more. Come back to love me; or, Gasparo,'
she continued, sinking her voice to an awe-hushed
whisper, 'I know the devil will come into my heart,
too, and drive me to do I know not what.'</p>
<p>Just then Frank's whistle sounded a shrill call to
embark. I could not think what to say or do. I bent
over her to snatch a hasty kiss and go, since it was so
we always parted now, but she shrank away.</p>
<p>'No!' she said; 'the play is done. Our lips shall
meet no more till they meet in earnest, till they meet in
love. Go now, and the Holy Mother be with you!'</p>
<p>An hour afterwards I was sailing merrily onwards,
bearing room for the Cabeças. 'Our fleet was made up
of the new-tallowed frigate and two pinnaces. In them
were fifteen English, twenty French, and our Cimaroons;
and who amongst them all was so tormented with his
crowded thoughts as I, or rejoiced so much in the
perilous nature of our enterprise?</p>
<p>What would have happened to me and her I cannot
dare to think, had it not been that my thoughts were
occupied more and more fully each mile we sailed with
the wild excitement of our new, most daring enterprise.
By the time we had passed the Cabeças, where we left
the frigate with a mixed guard, and were sailing with
the pinnaces aloof the shore towards the Rio Francisco,
all I had left behind was wellnigh lost in what was to
come.</p>
<p>Arrived at the river, which is but five leagues by sea
from Nombre de Dios, we landed very quietly and
dismissed the pinnaces, charging those that had guard of
them to return to the Cabeças and be in the river again
without fail in four days, which time, Pedro deemed,
was all that we should want, since now the <i>recuas</i> were
coming daily from Panama, and the road by Nombre de
Dios was not above seven leagues from the spot where
we landed.</p>
<p>So we started through the dense forest once more in
our old order, yet in better heart than ever, in spite of
our miscarriages. For now we knew what the danger
was and feared it less. Besides, there was not one of us
in whose heart did not burn a mad desire for revenge.
The flame of anger which the news from Paris had
kindled in all the company consumed every other
thought, and none cared what came of him so long as
he made shift to strike one good blow in return.</p>
<p>A great part of our company had sailed under the
Prince of Condé's commission in the old days in the
narrow seas, and some even had served in French ships,
whereby a sort of brotherhood had grown up between
our mariners and the Huguenots—a kindliness which
those now with us did not a little to keep warm by the
very cheerful spirits with which they infected us.
During all the voyage from Fort Diego they had made great
light of our perils, and protested a very great readiness
for the attempt. Indeed we found their courage very
hot, out of their joy, as they ceased not to tell us, at
marching under our captain, of whom they had heard so
much since they had been on the coast, no less than from
the natural disposition of their countrymen for attack,
and all services where spirit is of more account than
endurance.</p>
<p>It was no small hardship to them to hold their peace,
and our method of silent and catlike marching, in which,
by use, we were now almost as skilful as the Cimaroons,
was a great marvel to them, as was the discipline by
which it was maintained to their captain. By no means
could they come to the same stillness as we, whereat the
Cimaroons conceived a great scorn of them, and would
give no heed or trust to them. In answer the Frenchmen
fell into a great distrust of them, as we burrowed
deeper and deeper into the tangled forest and mazy
ravines, protesting that it was madness to go on so,
since, should the negroes prove false, we could never
find the pinnaces again.</p>
<p>This was true enough; but Frank gave them to
understand such fears were groundless and must not be
broached, since we had made long trial of the negroes'
constancy, and if they feared that they should never
have come. Moreover, he took such sharp order with
them, by Monsieur Tetú's consent and furtherance, to
have silence observed that in a very short space they
were as firmly under his spell as any of us, and things
went well again.</p>
<p>Having come thus within a mile of the road on the
second evening, we chose a place where we might lie
and refresh ourselves all night, since the <i>recuas</i> did not
reach Nombre de Dios till morning. This was a perilous
time for us, for the Frenchmen, being new to the trade,
were, for the most part, too excited to sleep.</p>
<p>Nor can I blame them, for we lay so near to that
great town, wherein were now enough soldiers to have
eaten our whole company at a sitting, that we could
hear plainly what was passing there. As we lay in the
brakes, still as mice, we could mark the lazy challenge
of the watch and the noisy laughter of the guard at their
cups, mingling with the busy din of the carpenters on
the fleet. They had just begun work; for, because of
the great heat, they do not work in the day, and all
night long there came up from the harbour the sounds
of saw, and axe, and hammer, as they wrought busily to
get the fleet ready for sea.</p>
<p>Soon after we came thither two <i>recuas</i> passed out of
the Panama gate and toiled up the hill to us with such
a monstrous clanging of bells that we had much ado to
keep the Frenchmen quiet, so moved were they at the
sound. Soon they passed. We could hear their music
die away towards the south, and then on that side all
was still, and we fell to listening to the labour in the
harbour again.</p>
<p>Hour by hour the still night wore on. The Englishmen
about me fell asleep, as well as some of the French,
though I grieved to see the wine-flasks passing about
amongst others more than gave hope of cool heads in
the morning.</p>
<p>Harry, who lay by my side, was one of the first to
compose himself to rest. I saw him take out a little
picture from his breast. I knew too well what it was.
He kissed it lovingly, and then quietly stretched
himself out and lay quite still. The Sergeant slept at his
feet. Harry had craved leave for him to come and
retrieve his reputation, saying well he was the least
likely of all the company to get us descried again.</p>
<p>It was in the first gray of the morning that I awoke,
with Harry's hand on my shoulder and the faint sound
of bells in my ears. His face was radiant, and he held
up his finger to bid me listen. Close by lay a Cimaroon
with his head uplifted, like a dog when he suddenly
hears a strange tread at hand. His eyes were wide open,
glistening and bloodshot, and his big white teeth
gleaming as he listened intently. I could see he was
greatly excited, and so was I to watch him. Suddenly
he turned to me as though satisfied.</p>
<p>'What is it?' I whispered.</p>
<p>'The biggest luck ever men done got,' he answered.
'Hark! hark!'</p>
<p>'Yes,' said I; 'I can hear it is a <i>recua</i> from Panama,
and a big one by the sound.'</p>
<p>'A <i>recua</i>!' he answered scornfully. 'It is one, two,
three <i>recuas</i>! Now you will have more gold and silver
than all of us can carry away!'</p>
<p>'And more soldiers than we can drive away perhaps,'
whispered Harry; 'but we must strike all the lustier,
that is all.'</p>
<p>Our talk was cut short by the word being passed
that we should creep on to the edge of the road, which
we did very quiet and quickly, being divided into two
bands, under the general and Mr. Oxenham, as before,
that we might strike head and tail again.</p>
<p>By the time we were in our places I could not
doubt that what the Cimaroon had said was right. The
sounds from the town were hushed as the dawn brightened,
and I could plainly hear such a clanging of bells
as told me clearly there must be many more mules than
I had ever heard together before.</p>
<p>Nearer and nearer they drew; and the louder waxed
the deep-toned music, so sweet in our ears, the quieter
were we. Not a sign was there to tell of our presence,
save now and again the dull snap of a bow being bent, or
the low sound of breath as the matches of our small-shot
men were blown up, or a gentle rustle of the brakes as
a young hand moved nervously.</p>
<p>Everything was at last drowned in the clash of the
bells. Now they had quite passed Mr. Oxenham's party
in the rear. Now the clank of arms was abreast of us.
I saw Frank's whistle at his lips, once more its piercing
note split the air, and we were all on our feet rushing
down into the road, shouting, 'Drake! Drake!' like
madmen.</p>
<p>As I leapt down into it I could see a sight that made
my heart bound. Some three hundred mules, laden with
little leather bags, and all tied tail to tail, stretched
along the road. In front glittered the morions and
corselets of some score of soldiers, and at different points
in the line and in the far rear, where our men were
already engaged, were more. In front of all rode two
or three officers in splendid armour.</p>
<p>But there was no time to see more. In a moment I
had discharged my pistol, and was hand to hand at it
with the foot. Harry was by my side at like work, and
I could see the Sergeant, sword in hand, making for
one of the officers.</p>
<p>At our first onset they fell back, being quite
unprepared and dismayed with our shot and arrows.
Half of them carried their morions in their hands, and
none had their matches ready. So we were left to stop
the mules, which all lay down quietly as before, but it
was only a short respite.</p>
<p>The balls and hail-shot were soon flying about our
ears up the narrow road. Poor Captain Tetú rushed
most valiantly upon them, sword in band, but was
doubled up in the road before he came to his distance.
For a while it was desperate work. In a confused mass
we fought and struggled together, and the woods
re-echoed with the explosions of the small shot and the
frantic cries of 'Drake! Drake!' and 'Santiago!
Santiago!'</p>
<p>I was hand to hand again with a soldier, who gave
me stiff work, when I heard the plunging of a horse and
the whistle of a blade behind me. I made sure my
end had come, and turned to hear a thundering shout
of 'Drake,' and see Sergeant Culverin dash by into the
thick of the foot.</p>
<p>He seemed a new man. As he passed he slashed at
my opponent and set me free. I could not even then
but admire his splendid management of his frantic
horse in the press. Hewing and slashing, he made
straight for a mounted officer, who was fighting like a
lion. Involuntarily I paused to watch and get my
breath. Straight at him the Sergeant rode, and with a
sudden check of the bit, made his stolen charger rear
right up against the Spaniard, at his rein hand, so that
he was wholly guarded from the officer's blade. Then
as the horse descended the Sergeant's heavy 'schiavona'
rang upon the Spaniard's morion. The officer reeled in
his saddle, his sword dropped, and his horse turned and
galloped madly out of the press towards the town.</p>
<p>The old riding-master had been too much for the
cavalier's skill. The victory of our horse seemed to
paralyse the foot. Resistance ceased. They only thought
of escape. Down the road, into the woods, anywhere,
they fled to avoid us. 'Yó pehó! yó pehó!' seemed
once more to people the air with fiends, as the leaping,
yelling Cimaroons danced after them, almost as fast
as the Sergeant rode.</p>
<p>How far he would have continued his pursuit in the
midst of his diabolic company I cannot tell, for Frank's
shrill whistle called all back. Mr. Oxenham's work
was done as soon as ours, for the Spaniards in the rear,
having no officer to encourage them, were soon persuaded
to leave the mules in his care. So that now all
hands were wanted for the heaviest part of the task,
which was to get our plunder into the forest.</p>
<p>Like children we went at it, half-mad with joy over
our extraordinary good fortune. After all our toil and
all our failures we had succeeded at last, and that
beyond all our hopes. We found our prize was one <i>recua</i>
of fifty mules and two of seventy. Every mule carried
three hundred pounds' weight of silver, making in all
some twenty-five tons, besides such store of jewels and
yellow bars and quoits as made us have no eyes for the
baser metal.</p>
<p>'All hands now,' sang out Frank, 'to ease the mules,
which must be sore weary, and yarely now! or the
Spaniards will be taking pains to stay us doing the poor
animals this kindness. And, Sergeant,' he said, as
Culverin reined up, 'our horse shall go to the front to
give us advertisement of their coming, that we may
prepare a salutation for them.'</p>
<p>'An honourable service, Captain Drake,' said the
Sergeant, beaming with delight, 'for which I crave leave
to thank you.'</p>
<p>'Nay, Sergeant,' laughed Frank, 'it is yours of right.
I marked how you took the weather of the cavalier. I
never brought up to windward better myself. Away
now, for we must work.'</p>
<p>And indeed there was need. In spite of the huge
loads the Cimaroons could carry, it was no light or
speedy labour we had, especially since some were hurt.
Yet the only sore wound we had was the French
captain's, who was so grievously struck with hail-shot
in the belly that he could not walk, in spite of most
valiant endeavours.</p>
<p>The whole time we worked we could hear the turmoil
our visit had caused in the town. Trumpets were
braying and drums beating up and down, as though the
devil had broken loose, as perhaps they thought he had.
We could not doubt that the soldiers we had relieved
had given, after the manner of Spaniards, so monstrous
and boasting an account of our numbers that the whole
garrison was making ready to visit us.</p>
<p>Indeed, as our last mule was eased, the Sergeant came
galloping in to bring news of a mighty preparation of
horse and foot on the march out of the Plaza, as he
guessed by the notes of their trumpets. This great
preparation was our saving instead of our undoing, for
by the time the enemy's horse and foot reached the
<i>recuas</i> the foremost of us were already far in the woods,
intent on burying some of our silver, which was over
and above what we could carry. Being thus busy we
could not receive them, and since they had no mind to
follow us through the forest, we could not choose but
disappoint them in their intention of saluting us.</p>
<p>Some fifteen tons we buried, partly under fallen
trees, partly in the bed of a river, and partly in the
holes of land-crabs, whereof we found a colony, and
begged of them this hospitality; and so, with some ten
tons of silver and all the gold and jewels, we went on
our way, the Cimaroons bearing loads which were a
marvel to us all how they did not break their backs.</p>
<p>At a fitting place the Cimaroons made a little house
for the French captain, for by no means could he be
persuaded to cumber us, so that we should carry less of
the treasure. He stoutly protested that nothing but a
rest would save his life. So, being unable to move him
from his valiant resolve, we were compelled against our
wills to leave him in charge of two of his men, who
vowed they would not desert their captain while there
was a spark of life left in him.</p>
<p>We had not gone far when the Frenchmen began to
cry out that one of their number was missing, and were
for going back, thinking him to be lying wounded on
the road. Upon this our captain made searching
examination to find out how it should be, which he soon
did from a Cimaroon.</p>
<p>'I done see him,' said the negro. 'He done got too
much pillage and too much wine, so he done go on before in
a hurry to get to the ships. I think he done lost his way.'</p>
<p>This indeed was true, as we had occasion afterwards
to know. Our captain was angry at it, and would not
stay longer, being in a great hurry to get to the pinnaces
in the Rio Francisco before they were discovered by
the Spaniards, as he doubted not they would endeavour,
having been so outwitted by us.</p>
<p>So we toiled on under our loads, through, a terrible
tempest of rain and wind which overtook us, and made
our march none the easier by reason of the swollen
torrents and mire. Yet if we had heavy loads we
had light hearts, and comforted ourselves with a
hundred jests at our luck, no less than with a speedy
hope of reaching our pinnaces.</p>
<p>It was early on the second day that we came to
the river, and all quickened their pace to be among
the first to tell their comrades the news. Yet were
our pains thrown away; for when we had passed
out of the forest and reached the rendezvous not a
sign of the pinnaces was to be seen, only the river
rolling down in double volume, brown and swollen from
the rain.</p>
<p>'Where can they be?' said I to Frank.</p>
<p>'Nay, lad, who can tell?' he said, looking very grave.
'Unless,' he added more cheerfully, 'the tempest has
delayed them. The wind was westerly. Let us go and
have a look out to sea. Maybe they are even now at
hand.'</p>
<p>In great anxiety we hurried to a place whence a
great part of the coast could be descried, and the rest
who were not too weary, seeing what the general did,
followed. Eagerly, as the sea opened out before us, we
scanned its glittering surface towards the Cabeças,
whence our pinnaces were to come, and there, to our
horror, we saw rowing, as though from the very spot,
seven Spanish pinnaces, crammed with men in glittering
harness!</p>
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