Beauvallet Read online

  ‘I conceive that to be none of your business, señor. If you must know I am on my way home from Santiago to Spain.’

  ‘Why, an evil chance,’ said Beauvallet sympathetically. ‘What folly possessed that numskull of a commander of yours to open fire on me?’

  ‘Don Juan did his duty, señor,’ said Don Manuel haughtily.

  ‘Alack then, that virtue has not been better rewarded,’ said Sir Nicholas lightly. ‘And what am I to do with you?’ He bit his finger, pondering the question. ‘There is of course the long boat. She puts off as soon as may be for the island of Dominica. It lies some three miles to the north of us. Do you choose to go aboard her?’

  Dona Dominica took a quick step forward. Since her fears were lulled her temper rose. This careless manner was not to be borne. She broke into impassioned speech, shooting her words at Beauvallet. ‘Is that all you can say? Sea-robber! Hateful pirate! Is it nothing to you that we must put back to the Indies and wait perhaps months for another ship? Oh nothing, nothing! You see where my father stands, a sick man, and you care nothing that you expose him to such rough usage. Base, wicked robber! What do you care! Nothing! I could spit on you for a vile English freebooter!’ She ended in a sob of rage, and stamped her foot at him.

  ‘Good lack!’ said Beauvallet, staring down into that exquisite face of fury. A smile of amusement and of admiration crept into his eyes. It caused Dona Dominica to lose the last shreds of her temper. What would you? She was a maid all fire and spirit. She struck at him, and he caught her hand and held it, pulled her closer, and looked down into her face with eyes a-twinkle. ‘I cry pardon, señora. We will amend all.’ He turned his head and sent a shout ringing for his lieutenant.

  ‘Loose me!’ Dominica said, and tried to pull her hand away. ‘Loose me!’

  ‘Why, you would scratch me if I did,’ Beauvallet said, teasing.

  It was not to be borne. The lady's eyes fell, and encountered the hilt of a dagger in Beauvallet's belt. She raised them again, held his in a defiant stare, and stole her hand to the dagger's hilt.

  Sir Nicholas looked quickly down, saw what she would be at, and laughed. ‘Brave lass!’ He let her go, let her draw out his dagger, and flung wide his arms. ‘Come then! Have at me!’

  She stepped back, uncertain and bewildered, wondering what manner of man was this who could mock at death itself. ‘If you touch me I will kill you,’ she said through her teeth.

  Still he came on, twinkling, daring her. She drew back until the bulwarks stayed her.

  ‘Now strike!’ invited Beauvallet. ‘I’ll swear you have the stomach for it!’

  ‘My daughter!’ Don Manuel was aghast. ‘Give back that knife! I command you! Señor, be good enough to stand back.’

  Beauvallet turned away from the lady. It seemed he gave no second thought to the dangerous weapon she held. He waited for Dangerfield to come up, standing with his hands tucked negligently into his belt.

  ‘Sir, you called me?’

  Beauvallet indicated Don Manuel and his daughter with a comprehensive sweep of his hand. ‘Convey Don Manuel de Rada y Sylva and his daughter aboard the Venture,’ he said, in Spanish.

  Don Manuel started; Dominica gave a gasp. ‘Is it a jest, señor?’ Don Manuel demanded.

  ‘In God's Name, why should I jest?’

  ‘You make us prisoners?’

  ‘Nay, I bid you be my guests, señor. I said I would amend all.’

  The lady broke out again. ‘You mock us! You shall not take us aboard your ship. We will not go!’

  Beauvallet set his hands on his hips. The mobile eyebrow went up again. ‘How now? First you will and then you will not. You tell me I am a dog to hinder your return to Spain, and curse me roundly for a rogue. Well, I have said I will amend the fault: I will convey you to Spain with all speed. What ails you then?’

  ‘Take us to Spain!’ said Don Manuel uncomprehendingly.

  ‘You cannot!’ cried Dominica, incredulous. ‘You dare not!’

  ‘Dare not? God's Son, I am Nick Beauvallet!’ said Sir Nicholas, amazed. ‘Dared I sail into Vigo a year back, and lay all waste? What should stop me?’

  She flung up her hands, and the dagger flashed in the sunlight. ‘Oh, now I know that they named you well who named you Mad Beauvallet!’

  ‘You have it wrong,’ Beauvallet said, jesting. ‘Mad Nicholas is the name they call me. I make you free of it, señora.’

  Don Manuel interposed. ‘Señor, I do not understand you. I cannot believe you speak in good faith.’

  ‘The best in the world, señor. Is an Englishman's word good enough?’

  Don Manuel knew not how to answer. It was left for his daughter to say No, very hotly. All she got by that was a quick look and a slight laugh.

  Across the deck came Don Juan de Narvaez, stately even in defeat. He bowed low to Don Manuel, lower still to Dona Dominica, and ignored Beauvallet. ‘Señor, the boat waits. Permit me to escort you.’

  ‘Get you aboard, Señor Punctilio,’ said Sir Nicholas. ‘Don Manuel sails with me.’

  ‘No!’ said Dominica. But it is very certain that she meant yes.

  ‘I have no desire to jest with you, señor,’ Don Juan said coldly. ‘Don Manuel de Rada naturally sails with me.’

  A long finger beckoned to Don Juan's guard. ‘Escort Don Juan to the long boat,’ said Sir Nicholas.

  ‘I do not stir from here without Don Manuel and his daughter,’ said Narvaez, and struck an attitude.

  ‘Take him away,’ said Sir Nicholas, bored. ‘God speed you, señor.’ Narvaez was led away, protesting. ‘Señora, be pleased to go aboard the Venture. Diccon, have their traps conveyed at once.’

  Dominica braved him, to see what might come of it. ‘I will not go!’ She clenched the dagger. ‘Constrain me at your peril!’

  ‘A challenge?’ inquired Beauvallet. ‘Oh, rash! I told you that I never refused a challenge.’ He bore down upon her, and dodged, laughing, the dagger's point. He caught her wrist, and had his other arm firmly clipped about her waist. ‘Cry peace, sweetheart,’ he said, and took the dagger from her, and restored it to its sheath. ‘Come!’ he said, tossed her up in his arms, and strode off with her to the quarter-deck.

  Dominica forebore resistance. It would be useless, she knew, and her dignity would suffer. She permitted herself to be carried off, and liked the manner of it. They did not use such ready methods in Spain. There was great strength in the arm that upheld her, and the very carelessness of the man intrigued one. A strange, mad fellow, with an odd directness. One would know more of him.

  She was carried down the companion into the waist, where the men were busy with the treasure – China silks, and linen-cloths, ingots of gold, bars of silver, and spices from the islands. ‘Robber!’ said Dominica softly.

  He chuckled. It was annoying. To the bulwarks he went, and she wondered how he would manage now. But he did it easily enough, with a hand on the shrouds, and a leap up. He stood poised a moment. ‘Welcome aboard the Venture, sweetheart!’ he said audaciously, and climbed down with her safe tucked in his arm to his own poop-deck below.

  She was set on her feet, ruffled and speechless, and saw her father being helped carefully down the side of the tall galleon. Don Manuel appeared to be both bewildered and amused.

  ‘See them well bestowed, Diccon,’ Beauvallet bade the fair youth, and went back the way he had come.

  ‘Will it please you to come below, señora?’ Dangerfield said shyly, and bowed to them both. ‘Your chests will be here anon.’

  Don Manuel smiled a little wryly. ‘I think the man is either mad – or else – an odd, whimsical fellow, my daughter,’ he remarked. ‘We shall doubtless learn which in time.’

  Two

  Dona Dominica was escorted below decks, and led to a fair cabin which she guessed to be the home of Master Dangerfield, hurriedly evicted. She was left there alone, while Master Dangerfield took her father on to yet another cabin. She took stock of her surroundings, and was pleased to approve. The