Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
The man to whom he spoke ignored alike words and extended hand. A
towering figure, breathing bitter anger at this spite of Fortune, he
turned where he stood and gazed upon the ocean that had swallowed up his
ship. Uncouth of nature, given to boasting, a foster-child of Violence
and Envy, he yet had qualities which had borne him upward and onward
from mean beginnings to where on yesterday he had stood, owner and
Captain of the _Star_, leader of picked men, sea-dog and adventurer as
famed for daredevil courage and boundless endurance as for his
braggadocio vein and sullen temper. Now the _Star_ that he had loved was
at the bottom of the sea; his men, a handful beside the _Cygnet's_
force, must give obedience to her officers; and he himself,--what was he
more than a volunteer aboard his enemy's ship? Captain Robert Baldry,
grinding his teeth, found the situation intolerable.
Sir Mortimer Ferne, biting his lip in a sudden revulsion of feeling, was
of much the same opinion. But that he would follow after courtesy was as
certain as that Baldry would pursue his own will and impulse. Therefore
he spoke again, though scarce as cordially as before:
"We will shape our course for Teneriffe, where (I pray to God) we may
find the _Mere Honour_ and the _Marigold_. If it please Captain Baldry
to then remove into the _Mere Honour_, I make no doubt that the Admiral
will welcome so notable a recruit. In the mean time your men shall be
cared for, and you yourself will command me, sir, in all things that
concern your welfare."
Baldry shot him a look. "I am no maker of pretty speeches," he said.
"You have me in irons. Pray you, show me some dungeon and give me leave
to be alone."
Young Sedley, hotly indignant, muttered something, that was echoed by
the little throng of gentlemen adventurers sailing with Sir Mortimer
Ferne. Arden, leaning against the mast, coolly observant of all, began
to whistle,
"'Of honey and of gall in love there is store:
The honey is much, but the gall is more,'"
thereby bringing upon himself one of Baldry's black glances.
"Lieutenant Sedley," ordered Ferne, sharply, "you will lodge this
gentleman in the cabin next mine own, seeing that he hath all needful
entertainment. Sir, I do expect your company at dinner."
He bowed, then stood at his full height, while Baldry sufficiently
bethought himself to in some sort return the salute, even to give
grudging, half--insolent acknowledgment of the debt he owed the
_Cygnet_. At last he went below--to refuse the bread and meat, but to
drink deep of the _aqua vita_ which Sedley stiffly offered; then to lock
himself in his cabin, bite his nails with rage, and finally, when he had
stared at the sea for a long time, to sink his head into his hands and
weep a man's tears for irrevocable loss.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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