Idonia: A Romance of Old LondonWallis, Arthur Frederick
History
Idonia: A Romance of Old London
Wallis, Arthur Frederick
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
I looked about me. We were riding at anchor in a little bay that from
the aspect of the stars I took to be upon the Moorish side of the
Straits: an opinion that became certainty when I gradually made out the
form of that huge rock of Gibraltar to the northward and the
mountainous promontory which lieth thereabout. There was no wind at
all, which something excused the slack seamanship that was used amongst
us, and in this principally showed, that our sails were but some of
them furled up, although we rode at anchor; and the rest of them hung
flat upon the yards. The moon had not risen, or was already set, but
there was that soft diffused pallor of the stars by which, after
awhile, I could see very well. In the general negligence the ship's
lanterns were left unlit, but the gunner had one beside him, and also
(what imported me more to find) a few broken morsels of bread. To
carry these and the lantern down to the hold was my next concern, and
was happily effected; but I judged my enterprise incomplete until I had
got wine, or at least water, to wash it down, for even less to be
supported than our hunger was our horrible scorching thirst.
Now, how I should have fared in my quest of that commodity I know not,
seeing I did not proceed further in it than just so far as the
prostrate gunner, whose leg in passing I chanced to touch and so woke
him. He raised himself on his elbow, grumbling that he was
o'er-watched, and would stand sentinel no more for all the Moors in
Barbary. Upon the impulse I fell upon and grappled with him, managing
the chain betwixt my wrists so that I had his neck in a loop of it,
upon which I pulled until his eyes and mouth were wide and the blood
pouring from his nose. Gradually I slackened my hold to let him
breathe, for he was pretty far gone.
"You must knock off my irons," I whispered, "or else I will strangle
you outright," and made as if to begin again.
He was beyond speech, but made signs he would do it, and implored me
with his eyes to desist. Then he made me to understand that his tools
were abaft in the gunroom, so that I was fain to follow him thither, or
rather to go beside him with my arms about his neck like a dear friend.
We encountered some dozen men in the way, but all sleeping, save one
that I made my captive put to silence, which he did very properly and
workmanlike.
Not to be tedious in this matter, I say that at length I stood free;
for the which enfranchisement when my man had perfected it, perceiving
that he was like to be called in question, he fell on his knees before
me and besought me to let him escape with me.
"I have had pity of you many a time," he cried, "when, but for me, you
must have starved;" which was indeed true, he being the bluff ruddy
fellow that had brought us our meals from time to time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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