Long Ago, Far Away by Esmè Stuart (good books to read for 12 year olds txt) 📖
- Author: Esmè Stuart
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'Carlo, tell us--but, oh, who is this? The English lad? Are you Captain Morgan's son? No--it cannot be; for then you would not be here, nor would you look so kind.'
'You were right, Etta; this English lad is a prisoner, and has kindly helped me up here; otherwise I should be still lying under the wall, or perhaps I might now be killed by those wretches.'
Harry Fenn was delighted at finding himself face to face with a countrywoman of his own. It seemed almost a miracle to be in a room again--a room which spoke of civilised and refined life, and which contained an English girl; for there was no mistaking her nationality, though she immediately informed him of the fact.
'I knew you were no robber when I saw you come to the castle. I am an English girl, and a prisoner here.'
'Etta, what foolish talk!' said Carlo. 'As long as I am here you are no prisoner.'
'But tell me how you came to be with that dreadful Henry Morgan,' cried Etta, much excited.
By this time Catalina, having gathered that Harry was no enemy, thought that he might be hungry, and brought out some bread from a cupboard; and the poor fellow fell upon it with such evident hunger that Etta's heart was touched, and she continued to talk to Harry.
'Those wicked men have, then, starved you?' she asked, as Carlo, having had his knee bandaged by Catalina, went into the large cupboard and tried to persuade Felipa to come out, for at present there was no visible danger.
'Not more than were all the others; the men all share and share alike; and when we were on the marsh, with the rain falling upon us, we were in such a bad plight that the men began to grumble finely at Captain Morgan; indeed, if a body of Spaniards had appeared at that moment we should never have reached this place. I can tell you Captain Morgan was glad enough to get the Governor's letter; but he laughed in his sleeve when he found his threats had been taken in earnest, for they were but bravado.'
'Oh, hush! don't tell Carlo all this,' said Etta quickly; 'he is so brave and good, and wished to go out this morning against them. But the place must have been betrayed, I think, for all said it could never be taken.'
'Ay, so it was, young mistress; and, now I see it contained such brave people and one of my own countrywomen, I am sorry enough; but before, I was right glad, for we suffered a great deal. Yet I ought to be used to suffering, for all this is nothing to the grief I had when these men kidnapped me from my home. And never a word have I been able to send to my parents that I am alive and well; for they take care I get no chance to speak with any passing ship.'
'But mine were killed,' said Etta, feeling as if she had known Harry a long time. 'It is five years since I have been a captive here. You do not know, I dare say, that this island was in the hands of pirates at that time. There was a Sieur Simon ruling it for the pirate Mansfelt, who was, they said, never happy except at sea. But the Governor of Costa Rica determined to take back Saint Catherine, and when the pirates heard this they sent to ask help of the English Governor of Jamaica, for he was said to sympathise with them. He refused, and pretended to have nothing to say to them; but he hired a merchant ship, as if for honest trade, and fitted it with stores, and put in some of the pirates that found shelter in Jamaica, and gave them and the captain private instructions. My father, who was an honest merchant, never knew of this; and, wishing to take my mother and me to Costa Rica, took passage in this same ship, but on nearing the island the Sieur Simon came aboard and begged the crew to sail into harbour. Yet it was all a wicked device, for the Spaniards had already possession of the island; so that when we landed we were all seized and taken prisoners. My father and some of the others defended themselves bravely, but they were outnumbered before our eyes, and were killed. Mother and myself were brought to one of Don Estevan del Campo's fortresses, and she died of grief there after some weeks. Then the Marquis said I was to be treated well, for he wished me to become the playfellow to his daughter and son who were coming here shortly, so that I might teach them English. Before her death my mother gave me letters and directions, telling me if ever I could get back to my relations in England I was to do so. But how can I? We are indeed both alike prisoners, and I see no chance of getting away.'
Harry listened to Etta's story with much surprise; it made him see that after all he was not the only English sufferer even in these distant islands, and that others had had a much worse fate--for he had been well treated.
'But they are kind to you?' he asked, glancing at Carlo, who, having persuaded Felipa to come forth from her hiding-place, was sitting with his arm round her near the window and telling her of his meeting with the English youth.
'Kind? Ah, yes. I love Carlo and Felipa dearly, and old Catalina is not harsh; but I am afraid of the Marquis; I can never love him, for he looks upon me as one of his slaves.'
'He must be a false Spaniard, a feeble scoundrel, and no true gentleman,' said Harry decidedly, and then in a few words he told his own story, and how, in spite of being such a favourite with Captain Morgan, he had sometimes much to bear from the rough men. At this moment, however, Carlo jumped up and exclaimed:
'There is my father returning, and, gracious saints, he is a prisoner!'
CHAPTER IX.
IMPRISONED.
Before anything further could be said on this matter Pedro's voice was heard at the door, and when Catalina was assured that he was alone she let him in, being herself very curious to know the ins and outs of the occupation, and, as the Marquis had really returned, what was expected of her and her charges.
'Thank heaven, Pedro, that you have come up! Tell me what all this means, and are we to be roasted and eaten alive by those cannibals, who are, I suppose, gobbling up all our stores?'
Pedro's face was doleful in the extreme, and not at all reassuring.
'In truth, Captain Morgan is our master now; and so I suppose we must make the best we can of the matter. He is very angry at the death of one or two of his men, and says we have broken our engagement. As if one could make engagements with such paltry ragamuffins! It seems we were never meant to resist, but I said it was by your orders, Señorito. You remember that you would insist on taking us out to the walls, though our orders were to do nothing. Anyhow, Captain Morgan wishes you, Señor Carlo, to come and deliver up your sword to him at once. He was going to send some of his drunken fellows to fetch you; but, thinking of the ladies, I interfered, and I said you would prefer to come of your own accord.'
'Let me come with you, Señorito,' said Harry Fenn, thinking that he could perhaps soften the Captain's wrath, which, he had learnt by this time, was not to be despised, especially by a Spaniard, who would find but little favour in the English pirate's eyes.
Felipa, pale and utterly miserable, tried to dissuade her brother from going down below, but in vain. Carlo did not know the meaning of the word fear.
'No, no, dear Felipa; that would be the action of a coward. Besides, you might suffer for my refusal. This captain shall see that I am not afraid of his threats.'
'You will petition Captain Morgan for Carlo, will you not?' asked Etta, turning towards Harry. 'How is it that he lets you have your own way?'
'I know not. He took a fancy for me and calls me his godson, which is a title very little fitting. I often think that if my poor father could see me, and kind Mr. Aylett, they would indeed be astonished; and yet I have tried to do my duty and not forget my God and country in the midst of this godless crew. But trust me, even if I did not like this bold young Spaniard, I would do my best for your sake, young Mistress Allison. You should have seen how he scorned to budge a step.'
Etta smiled at these words, and then said impulsively, 'Call me Etta, and I will call you Harry Fenn. Seeing you is almost as if I were at home among my relations, who, my mother used to say, would love me dearly and would not let me want.'
But there was no time now for more words, even though the young people seemed to have much to say to each other. Carlo followed Pedro and Harry, feeling altogether angry and ashamed of his position. He was, too, a little jealous of Etta's evident happiness at talking to one from her own country; and besides, he could not bear to feel that he was himself virtually a prisoner in his own house; and yet, thought he, 'I have never delivered up my sword, and I have never owned myself defeated.' As for his father, he could not bear to think of him as a traitor to his king and country.
When they entered the hall Carlo was dismayed by a sight such as he had never expected to see in Santa Teresa.
Some long wooden planks had been laid on trestles and placed in two rows down the hall, and round them sat some forty or fifty of Captain Morgan's chief men eating and drinking voraciously. A dozen or more of the negro slaves waited on them, filling up their goblets when empty--a duty which was by no means light or infrequent. At a smaller table at the upper end of the hall Captain Henry Morgan was also enjoying what he considered a well-earned breakfast; for daylight was beginning to flood the hall, showing that the long night of anxiety was over. In the sky beautiful clouds tinged with every conceivable shade of crimson and gold were making lovely backgrounds for the tall palm-trees and the other forest giants; but of all this beauty the soldiers and the buccaneers thought nothing. Henry Morgan was anxious, now that he was in possession of the island, to secure it permanently for future need, and, as soon as he could, to send on some of his men in search of still more booty, the thirst for gold in these pirates being quite unquenchable. After a moment's pause Carlo walked proudly up to the top table, bent on showing no fear; yet what made the deepest impression upon him was, not the sight of the much-dreaded sea-robber, but that of his own father seated opposite to the foe, and being treated apparently, not as a prisoner, but as a friend, by the man whom Carlo hated as being both a buccaneer and an Englishman.
The poor Marquis, however, could not be said to look happy; he carefully turned away from Morgan, and now and then rose hastily from his chair and paced nervously up and down the small platform, muttering audibly, 'I did it for the best. There has been no massacre of the people. Who will dare to blame me? How could I do otherwise? Why has Don Francisco left me, and where is my son?'
'Marry! here comes the culprit!' cried Captain Morgan, seeing Carlo approaching. 'Señor Governor, I suppose this young sprig is your son, and the one who led the assault before sunrise? The young scoundrel has a puissant sword and despiteful ire.'
'My son knew nothing of our plans,' said the poor Marquis, who in spite of his own conduct could not help feeling proud of his boy.
'Then, i'fecks, you should have told him. Some one is answerable for the death of two of my men and the wounds of several more.'
'Here, young sirrah! What's your name, and what do you mean by having gone out to prevent the entrance of my skirmishing party, when they held a pass from the Governor himself? Speak out, silly coxcomb,
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