"So getting down the slope on the farther side, we came into the woods once more, and there wandered for many days, I know not how many; our shoes being gone, and our clothes all rent off us with brakes and briars.And yet how the lady endured all was a marvel to see; for she went barefoot many days, and for clothes was fain to wrap herself in Mr.Oxenham's cloak; while the little maid went all but naked: but ever she looked still on Mr.Oxenham, and seemed to take no care as long as he was by, comforting and cheering us all with pleasant words; yea, and once sitting down under a great fig-tree, sang us all to sleep with very sweet music; yet, waking about midnight, I saw her sitting still upright, weeping very bitterly; on whom, sirs, God have mercy; for she was a fair and a brave jewel.
"And so, to make few words of a sad matter, at last there were none left but Mr.Oxenham and the lady and the little maid, together with me and William Penberthy of Marazion, my good comrade.And Mr.Oxenham always led the lady, and Penberthy and I carried the little maid.And for food we had fruits, such as we could find, and water we got from the leaves of certain lilies which grew on the bark of trees, which I found by seeing the monkeys drink at them; and the little maid called them monkey-cups, and asked for them continually, making me climb for them.And so we wandered on, and upward into very high mountains, always fearing lest the Spaniards should track us with dogs, which made the lady leap up often in her sleep, crying that the bloodhounds were upon her.And it befell upon a day, that we came into a great wood of ferns (which grew not on the ground like ours, but on stems as big as a pinnace's mast, and the bark of them was like a fine meshed net, very strange to see), where was very pleasant shade, cool and green; and there, gentlemen, we sat down on a bank of moss, like folk desperate and fordone, and every one looked the other in the face for a long while.After which I took off the bark of those ferns, for I must needs be doing something to drive away thought, and began to plait slippers for the little maid.
"And as I was plaiting, Mr.Oxenham said, 'What hinders us from dying like men, every man falling on his own sword?' To which Ianswered that I dare not; for a wise woman had prophesied of me, sirs, that I should die at sea, and yet neither by water or battle, wherefore I did not think right to meddle with the Lord's purposes.
And William Penberthy said, 'That he would sell his life, and that dear, but never give it away.' But the lady said, 'Ah, how gladly would I die! but then la paouvre garse,' which is in French 'the poor maid,' meaning the little one.Then Mr.Oxenham fell into a very great weeping, a weakness I never saw him in before or since;and with many tears besought me never to desert that little maid, whatever might befall; which I promised, swearing to it like a heathen, but would, if I had been able, have kept it like a Christian.But on a sudden there was a great cry in the wood, and coming through the trees on all sides Spanish arquebusiers, a hundred strong at least, and negroes with them, who bade us stand or they would shoot.William Penberthy leapt up, crying 'Treason!'
and running upon the nearest negro ran him through, and then another, and then falling on the Spaniards, fought manfully till he was borne down with pikes, and so died.But I, seeing no thing better to do, sate still and finished my plaiting.And so we were all taken, and I and Mr.Oxenham bound with cords; but the soldiers made a litter for the lady and child, by commandment of Senor Diego de Trees, their commander, a very courteous gentleman.
"Well, sirs, we were brought down to the place where the house of boughs had been by the river-side; there we went over in boats, and found waiting for us certain Spanish gentlemen, and among others one old and ill-favored man, gray-bearded and bent, in a suit of black velvet, who seemed to be a great man among them.And if you will believe me, Mr.Leigh, that was none other than the old man with the gold falcon at his breast, Don Francisco Xararte by name, whom you found aboard of the Lima ship.And had you known as much of him as I do, or as Mr.Oxenham did either, you had cut him up for shark's bait, or ever you let the cur ashore again.
"Well, sirs, as soon as the lady came to shore, that old man ran upon her sword in hand, and would have slain her, but some there held him back.On which he turned to, and reviled with every foul and spiteful word which he could think of, so that some there bade him be silent for shame; and Mr.Oxenham said, 'It is worthy of you, Don Francisco, thus to trumpet abroad your own disgrace.Did I not tell you years ago that you were a cur; and are you not proving my words for me?'
"He answered, 'English dog, would to Heaven I had never seen you!'
"And Mr.Oxenham, 'Spanish ape, would to Heaven that I had sent my dagger through your herring-ribs when you passed me behind St.
Ildegonde's church, eight years last Easter-eve.' At which the old man turned pale, and then began again to upbraid the lady, vowing that he would have her burnt alive, and other devilish words, to which she answered at last--"'Would that you had burnt me alive on my wedding morning, and spared me eight years of misery!' And he--"'Misery? Hear the witch, senors! Oh, have I not pampered her, heaped with jewels, clothes, coaches, what not? The saints alone know what 'I have spent on her.What more would she have of me?'
"To which she answered only but this one word, 'Fool!' but in so terrible a voice, though low, that they who were about to laugh at the old pantaloon, were more minded to weep for her.
"'Fool!' she said again, after a while, 'I will waste no words upon you.I would have driven a dagger to your heart months ago, but that I was loath to set you free so soon from your gout and your rheumatism.Selfish and stupid, know when you bought my body from my parents, you did not buy my soul! Farewell, my love, my life!
