Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
They talked little at dinner; and only of general matters, their journey,
the Armada, their joy at getting home again; for they had been expressly
warned by their friends abroad against any indiscreet talk even when they
thought themselves alone, and especially in the seaports, where so
constant a watch was kept for seminary priests. The presence of Isabel,
however, was the greatest protection to Anthony; as it was almost unknown
that a priest should travel with any but male companions.
Then suddenly, as they were ending dinner, a great clamour broke out in
the town below them; a gun was fired somewhere; and footsteps began to
rush along the narrow street outside. Anthony ran to the window and
called to know what was the matter; but no one paid any attention to him;
and he presently sat down again in despair, and with one or two wistful
looks.
"I will go immediately," he said to Isabel, "and bring you word."
A moment after a servant burst into the room.
"It is a Spanish ship, sir," he said, "a prize--rounding Dungeness."
In the afternoon, when the first fierce excitement was over, Anthony went
down to the quay. He did not particularly wish to attract attention, and
so he kept himself in the background somewhat; but he had a good view of
her as she lay moored just off the quay, especially when one of the town
guard who had charge of the ropes that kept the crowd back, seeing a
gentleman in the crowd, beckoned him through.
"Your honour will wish to see the prize?" he said, in hopes of a trifle
for himself; "make way there for the gentleman."
Anthony thought it better under these circumstances to accept the
invitation, so he gave the man something, and slipped through. On the
quay was a pile of plunder from the ship: a dozen chests carved and
steel-clamped stood together; half-a-dozen barrels of powder; the ship's
bell rested amid a heap of rich clothes and hangings; a silver crucifix
and a couple of lamps with their chains lay tumbled on one side; and a
parson was examining a finely carved mahogany table that stood near.
He looked up at Anthony.
"For the church, sir," he said cheerfully. "I shall make application to
her Grace."
Anthony smiled at him.
"A holy revenge, sir," he said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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