Beauvallet Read online

  She found Joshua Dimmock in the cabin, vociferous in defence of his gallow's chips, which he believed, privately, might serve at least to stave off Don Manuel's death until he was set safe ashore.

  Don Manuel looked wearily at his daughter. ‘Is there none to rid me of this fool?’ he said.

  Joshua tried the effect of coaxing. ‘See, señor, I have them safe tied in a sachet. I bought them of a very holy man, versed in these matters. If you would but wear them about your neck I might vouch for a certain cure.’

  ‘Bartolomeo, set wide that door,’ commanded Don Manuel. ‘Now, fellow, depart from me!’

  ‘Most gracious señor –’

  Bartolomeo fell back from the open doorway, bowing. A voice that to Dominica's fancy seemed to hold all the sunshine and the salt wind of fine days at sea smote her ears. ‘What's this?’

  Sir Nicholas stood on the threshold.

  Don Manuel raised himself on his elbow. ‘Señor, in good time! Rid me of your knave there, and his damnable chips from a gallows!’

  Beauvallet came quickly in, saw Joshua standing aggrieved by the side of the bunk, and caught him by the nape of the neck, and with no more ado hurled him forth. He kicked the door to behind him, and stood looking down at Don Manuel. ‘Is there aught else I may do for you, señor? You have but to name it.’

  Don Manuel lay back against the pillows and smiled wrily. ‘You are short in your dealings, señor.’

  ‘But to the point, you’ll allow. I am come to see how you do this morning. The fever still hath you in its hold?’

  ‘A little.’ Don Manuel frowned a warning. Beauvallet turned his head to observe the reason of this. Dominica was standing stiffly by the table.

  It seemed this abominable man must be everywhere at once. One's own cabin was the only safe retreat. She moved stately to the door. Bartolomeo went to open it, but was put aside by a careless hand. Sir Nicholas held the door wide, and my lady went out with a quickened step.

  ‘You, too, Bartolomeo,’ Don Manuel said, and lay watching Beauvallet. He fetched a stifled sigh. This handsome man with his springing step and alert carriage seemed to the sick gentle man the very embodiment of life and health.

  Beauvallet came to the bunk, and pulled a joint-stool forward, and sat down upon it. ‘You want to speak with me, señor?’

  ‘I want to speak with you.’ Don Manuel plucked at the sheet that covered him. ‘Señor, since first you brought us aboard this ship you have not again spoken of our disposal.’

  Beauvallet raised his brows quickly. ‘I thought I had made my self plain, señor. I shall set you ashore on the northern coast of Spain.’

  Don Manuel tried to read the face before him; the blue eyes looked straightly; under the neat mustachio the mouth was firm and humorous. If Beauvallet had secrets he hid them well under a frank exterior. ‘Am I to believe you serious, señor?’

  ‘Never more so, upon my honour. Wherefore all this pother over a very simple matter?’

  ‘Is it, then, so simple to put into a Spanish port, señor?’

  ‘To say truth, señor, your countrymen have not yet learned the trick of capturing Nick Beauvallet. God send them a better education, cry you!’

  Don Manuel spoke gravely. ‘Señor, you are an enemy – a dangerous enemy – to my country, yet, believe me, I should be sorry to see you taken.’

  ‘A thousand thanks, señor. You will certainly not see it. I was born in a fortunate hour.’

  ‘I have had enough of portents and omens, señor, from your servant. I make bold to say that if you set us ashore in Spain you place your life in jeopardy. And for what? It is madness! I can find no other name for it.’

  The firm lips parted; there was a gleam of white teeth. ‘Call it Beauvallet's way, señor.’

  Don Manuel said nothing, but lay still, watching his captor and host. After a minute he spoke again. ‘You are a strange man, señor. For many years I have heard wild tales of you, and believed, perhaps, a quarter of them. You constrain me to lend ear to the wildest of them.’ He paused, but Beauvallet only smiled again. ‘If, indeed, you speak in good faith I stand infinitely beholden to you. Yet you might act in the best of faith and fail of such a foolhardy endeavour.’

  Sir Nicholas swung his pomander on the end of its chain. ‘God rest you, señor: I shall not fail.’

  ‘I pray in this instance you may not. It does not need for me to tell you that my days are numbered. I would end them in Spain, señor.’

  Beauvallet held up his hand. ‘My oath on it, señor. You shall end them there,’ he said gently.

  Don Manuel stirred restlessly. ‘I must set my house in order. I leave my daughter alone in the world. There is my sister. But the child had traffickings with Lutherans, and I misdoubt me –’ He broke off, sighing.

  Beauvallet came to his feet. ‘Señor, give me ear a minute!’

  Don Manuel looked up at him, and saw him serious for once. ‘I attend, señor.’

  ‘When I approach my chosen goal, señor, I march straight. That you may have heard of me. Let it go. I make you privy now to a new goal I have sworn to reach, a fair prize. The day will come, Don Manuel, when I shall take your daughter to wife.’

  Don Manuel's eyes fluttered a moment. ‘Do you tell me, señor, that you love my daughter?’ he asked sternly.

  ‘Madly, señor, I make no doubt you would say.’

  Don Manuel looked more sternly still. ‘And she? No, it is not possible!’

  ‘Why, as to that, señor. I do not know. I am not over-apt with maids. She will love me one day.’

  ‘Señor, be plain with me. What is this riddle you propound?’

  ‘None, señor. Here is only the plain truth. I might bear Dominica away to England, and thus constrain her –’

  ‘You would not!’ Don Manuel cried out sharply.

  ‘Nay, I constrain no maid against her will, be assured. But you will allow it to be clearly within my power.’ He paused, and his eyes questioned.

  Don Manuel watched the swing of the golden pomander from long fingers, looked higher, and met the imperative gaze. ‘We are in your hands I know full well,’ he said evenly.

  Beauvallet nodded. ‘But that easy course is not the one I will take, señor. Nor am I one to enact the part of ravisher, of betrayer. I will take you to Spain, and there leave you. But, señor – and mark me well! for what I swear I will do that I shall certainly do, though the sun die and the moon fall, and the earth be wholly overset! – I shall come later into Spain, and seek out your daughter, and ride away with her on my saddlebow!’ His voice seemed to fill the room, vibrating with some leaping passion. A moment he looked down at Don Manuel with a glint in his eyes, and his beard jutting outwards with his lifted chin. Then the fire left him as suddenly as it had sprung up, and he laughed softly, and the glitter went out of his eyes. ‘Judge you by this, señor, if I do truly love her as you would have her loved!’

  There was silence. Don Manuel turned his head away on the pillow and brushed the sheet with one restless hand. ‘Señor,’ he said at last, ‘if you were not an enemy and a heretic, I would choose to give my daughter to just such a one as you.’ He smiled faintly at the quick surprise in Beauvallet's face. ‘Ay, señor, but you are both these things, and it is impossible. Impossible!’

  ‘Señor, a word I do not know. I have warned you. Take what precaution you will, but whether you are quick or dead, I shall have your daughter, in spite of anything you may do.’

  ‘Sir Nicholas, you have a brave spirit, and that I like in you. I have no need to take precautions, for you could never penetrate into Spain.’

  ‘God be my witness, señor, I shall penetrate.’

  ‘You must needs be foresworn, señor. At sea you may be a match for us, but how might you dare face all Spain in Spain itself ?’

  ‘I shall certainly dare, señor,’ said Sir Nicholas calmly.

  Don Manuel seemed to shrug his shoulders. ‘I see, señor, there is to be no ho with you. You may be but an idle boaster, or a