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Ronald Morton, or the Fire Ships, a novel by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 38. The Priest Goes In Search Of Hernan... |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. THE PRIEST GOES IN SEARCH OF HERNAN--THE "SCORPION" ENGAGES A FRENCH SHIP--THE VICTOR'S RETURN As the "Scorpion" required her rigging set up, Ronald had a good excuse for remaining in Eastling Sound longer than he might otherwise have done. He came on shore every day; and his first lieutenant, Mr Glover, was wonderfully fertile in excuses for coming also, as soon as the duties of the ship would allow him. It was remarked that when he came Donna Julia took the opportunity of leaving her father's room, except when he went in to visit the old man. At last Ronald taxed him with the singularity of his proceedings. "The fact is, Captain Morton, that she is a sweetly pretty, good girl," he answered; "and as, instead of being an heiress and a marchioness, she is likely to be penniless, I've made up my mind to splice her, if she will have me, as I couldn't otherwise look after her properly when her old father slips his cable, which he may do any day." Ronald advised him to make his offer forthwith, which he did, and was without hesitation accepted. The next day the old marquis died, and was buried, with due ceremony, within the walls of the old Roman Catholic chapel in which Hilda's unfortunate marriage took place. Lord Claymore was so much interested in Hilda that he did not immediately take his departure from Whalsey. Pedro Alvarez had at once written to France, enclosing a letter to Hernan, telling him of the wonderful change in his fortunes. It was evident, however, that he was more likely to be discovered if some one could go over to look for him. Father Mendez volunteered to go. Lord Claymore and Rolf supplied the father with ample funds, and he forthwith started on his journey. It was thought prudent to keep the worthy Tacon a prisoner, in case he might be required as a witness, should other claimants arise to oppose Hernan; but as he was well fed and amply supplied with whisky, he did not complain of his fate. At length the "Scorpion" was ready for sea. The sails were loosed, and all was in readiness to weigh. Ronald was still on shore, and had accompanied Edda to the summit of the eastern tower, the upper room in which she had appropriated to herself. As they stood together on the summit, his glance, as he looked seaward, fell on a sail just rising above the horizon. He watched her narrowly, and pronounced that she was drawing nearer. "Edda, farewell, dearest!" he exclaimed. "I must hasten on board, and sail in chase of yonder vessel. I received notice this morning from Lerwick that several merchantmen have been chased by a sloop-of-war, and some expected have not made their appearance, which it is supposed she may have captured. I must not delay a moment. Who knows but what I may bring her back in triumph!" He hastened down to his boat, and as fast the crew could bend their backs to the oars, pulled on board the corvette. The anchor was tripped, and under all sail she stood away in chase of the stranger. Edda remained on the top of the tower watching the receding ship. She was soon joined by Donna Julia. Poor girl! her lover too had gone away, and she was equally anxious with Edda. They were not long in private, for they were soon joined by Lord Claymore and Rolf Morton; Pedro Alvarez and other inmates of the castle followed. The stranger, a corvette, was standing in towards Whalsey close hauled on the starboard tack, and when the "Scorpion" rounded the island and showed herself, she continued on the same course. "That fellow by the cut of his canvas is a Frenchman," observed Lord Claymore; "what think you, Captain Alvarez?" "No doubt about it," answered Pedro Alvarez. "But I know of no French ship in these seas." "See--see! there goes up the French flag!" exclaimed Lord Claymore; "she is going about to, as she does not wish to commence the fight while the 'Scorpion' has the weather-gauge. A brave fellow commands that craft; he has no intention, at all events, of avoiding an engagement." Both vessels were now seen standing away from the land, the "Scorpion" steering both so as most speedily to come up with the enemy, and at the same time to keep the advantage of the wind which she possessed, while the other was manoeuvring to avoid a close engagement till she had gained the weather-gauge. "Ronald will not let him do that," cried Rolf. "See, the 'Scorpion' is gaining on her. She has got her within range of her guns. There goes the first shot." As he spoke, a puff of smoke was seen to proceed from the bows of the English ship, and the sound of the gun struck faintly on their ears. Another and another followed as soon as they could be brought to bear. As the "Scorpion" was coming up on the quarter of the French ship, the latter could not at first discharge her broadside guns with any effect, but as her enemy got more abeam of her she too opened fire, and shot after shot was exchanged in rapid succession. The interest of all the spectators became intense, though exhibited in different ways. Lord Claymore was all excitement and animation, evidently wishing himself on board the "Scorpion." Rolf now waved his hand--now addressed his son--now cheered as the "Scorpion" delivered an effective broadside. The colonel stood as if snuffing up the smoke of battle, and coolly criticising the manoeuvres of the combatants. The interests of Pedro Alvarez seemed now to side with the flag of France, under which he had so long fought, now with the "Scorpion," commanded by his friend. Lawrence kept moving about the platform rubbing his hands and cheering loudly every time a broadside was delivered. "Well done, 'Scorpion'!" "Bravo, my boy!" shouted Lord Claymore and Rolf, in concert, as the Frenchman's foretop-mast went over the side. This caused him to luff up, and the "Scorpion," shooting ahead, poured a raking broadside into his bows. On this, the Frenchman's helm was put to starboard, by which he was able to fire his hitherto disengaged starboard broadside. It had, however, the effect of bringing his head round, and now once more he stood towards the land, while the "Scorpion" ran on in an opposite direction. It was but for a minute, she also quickly came about and ranged up on the enemy's weather beam, pouring in the whole of her larboard broadside. As the smoke cleared away, the Frenchman was seen with her foremast and main-top-mast gone, while the "Scorpion" did not appear to have lost a spar. "Hurrah, my brave Ronald! the day is yours," shouted Rolf. "It is but a matter of time." Still the Frenchman fired on, but the wreck of his masts seemed to impede the working of his foremost guns. It appeared as if the "Scorpion" was about again to pass ahead, when the two ships met, and lay locked together in a deadly embrace. The guns continued to roar as before, and clouds of smoke enveloped the combatants. It was a period of awful suspense--no one on the platform spoke. The firing ceased; the canopy of smoke disappeared. The two flags of England and France flew out as before from the peaks of the two ships. "Morton has boarded the Frenchman," cried Lord Claymore at length. "No doubt now as to the result. The Frenchmen fight bravely though. At them again, my boys! Hurrah!--hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Rolf. "Down comes the Frenchmen's flag." The fight was over, the "Scorpion" was the victor. The two ships rapidly approached, steering for the west end of Eastling Island, and when at the entrance of the sound, and not far from the castle, they both came to an anchor. A boat was seen to be lowered from the "Scorpion," and with rapid strokes to approach the castle. With what eagerness did Edda watch her till she could distinguish the people on board. She uttered a cry of joy as she saw Ronald himself steering the boat. At the same time she perceived a person stretched at his length in the stern sheets. Poor Donna Julia almost fainted with alarm lest Glover should be the wounded man. Together they hurried down to the landing-place, where the rest of the party had already gone. Where all this time was Hilda? She, too, had witnessed the fight. She had seen the desperate struggle, the flag of France hauled down, the ships brought to an anchor, and a wounded officer lowered into the boat. A vague, yet overpowering dread had seized her. She attempted to go down that she might meet the boat at the landing-place, but her strength failed, and she sunk back in her chair near the window, whence she could watch the boat as it glided rapidly by. Her sister found her thus. "Hilda, nerve yourself for a great trial," she said, as she took her hand to lead her to the door, where Rolf Morton stood ready to conduct her down the steps. A group was collected round a couch in the great hall. As Hilda entered, they opened out, and a young man in the naval uniform of France was seen extended upon it. Pedro Alvarez stood by him, holding one hand, while the surgeon of the "Scorpion" was feeling the wrist of the other, and administering a restorative. Hilda tottered forward. "Who is that?" she asked in a hollow voice, as she gazed eagerly at the countenance of the wounded man. "Madam," said Pedro Alvarez, looking up, "that is Hernan Escalante, your son." "Mother!" whispered the young officer, and the light returned to his eyes, which had appeared so lustreless. "My son, my son, have I indeed found you, and thus sorely wounded!" cried Hilda, kneeling down to impress a kiss on his brow, while she cast her arms around him. "I shall soon recover now that I know I have you to live for," he answered, in a faint voice. "Oh, will he live! Can you cure him?" she exclaimed, turning to the surgeon. "Gold, any amount you can name, shall be your reward if he recovers." "I will do my best, madam," said the surgeon, bowing; "he is young and strong, and I have seen those who have received worse hurts survive." Young Hernan was by Hilda's directions carried to her room. Day and night she watched over him, jealous of the interference of all others. Though he long hung between life and death, her constant care was rewarded, and the surgeon pronounced him at length out of danger. He remained, however, too weak to be moved. The only person besides the surgeon whom Hilda would allow to come near him was the faithful pastor of Lunnasting. He knew well how to minister to a soul diseased; and Hilda herself, while listening to the words of Truth which were addressed to her son, had her own mind enlightened, and was brought to trust to the loving mercy of Him who had restored to her her long-lost child. Hernan, too, awakened to a sense of the sinfulness of the designs which his own evil passions had induced him to entertain, sought for pardon through the only means by which pardon can be obtained. When at length he rose from his sick bed he was truly an altered man, and Pedro Alvarez acknowledged that he loved him better than ever, although a Protestant minister had been the means of his reformation. Sir Marcus Wardhill died shortly after, in a state of utter imbecility, without recognising his grandson. On her father's death Hilda accompanied her son to Spain, where Hernan succeeded in establishing his rights to his paternal estates. He had, however, never entirely recovered from his wounds, and in two years Hilda had to endure the grief of seeing him die in her arms; but she bore it with fortitude, and, invited by her loving relatives at Lunnasting, returned to spend the evening of her days in Shetland. Glover having married Donna Julia, inherited Hernan's estates in Spain. Their children, brought up partly in the Protestant faith, became the ancestors of those who have since fought the battle for the truth in that long-benighted land. Pedro Alvarez not being perfectly satisfied that the officers of the Inquisition, though itself abolished, might not by some means get hold of him, continued a welcome inmate to the end of his days at Lunnasting Castle, the constant companion of Lawrence Brindister, who, on the death of Sir Marcus recovered his intellect so far that he was looked upon by Ronald's large family of young cousins as a most agreeable and amusing old gentleman, the chief promoter of every sort of pastime and amusement in which they were indulged. For several years a gaunt old beggar might be seen at the corner of one of the streets of Cadiz, surpassing his mendicant brethren in the loudness of his complaints and the squalor of the rags which covered him; and one day Glover, passing by, recognised in him his quondam acquaintance, the ex-pirate, Tacon. Father Mendez was never again heard of, nor was any surmise offered as to what had become of him. As Admiral Sir Ronald Brindister might object to have more of his private history brought to light, we must bring, our tale to a conclusion. [THE END] _ |
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