Long Ago, Far Away, Esmè Stuart [the false prince .txt] 📗

St. Catherine is composed of two islands, but so small was the space between them that the Marquis had had a secure bridge built across the tiny strait, and the two islands were always reckoned as one. The children were quite ignorant of the reason of their sudden trip to the greater island, and indeed they only thought of enjoying the fun of going to a new residence; for close to St. Jerome was the Governor's house, near a battery called the Platform, and in sight of the Bay of Aquada Grande. A river ran from the Platform to the sea, and the Marquis had wished to assure himself of the forts being in good order, as the captain of a friendly ship touching lately at St. Catherine had sent a message to him that there were rumours of some attempt on Panama being set on foot by the pirates, and that the Governor of Panama begged Don Estevan del Campo to keep a sharp look-out at St. Catherine, for that island had once been in the hands of the English pirates, and it was known that since the great buccaneer Mansfelt had died and the island had been re-taken by the Spaniards great hopes were entertained by several bands of English pirates that this little island might once more belong to them. It was for this reason that the Spaniards had constructed many forts on the island, especially on the lesser St. Catherine, which was not quite so well provided with natural defences as was the larger island.

It was the receipt of this news that had so greatly disturbed the much-worn-out Marquis, and his nerves were indeed hardly equal to the difficult duties entrusted to him. Pirates had increased terribly of late years. Jamaica, though it had a Governor supposed to be engaged in suppressing them, was yet quite a nest of these bold outlaws, who, taking advantage of the English jealousy of Spain, cared not what outrage they committed on Spanish towns and Spanish islands; though, in truth, other nations fared but little better at their hands.

The Marquis had examined the fortresses in the lesser island, and was much troubled at the few men that were at his disposal for manning them, and for the defence of the island generally; and now, having come to St. Jerome, he determined to send a boat down the river this very evening in order to ask for help and advice from the Governor of Costa Rica, Don John Perez de Guzman, who had five years before so ably retaken the island. But all this amount of thought and anxiety had quite unnerved the poor Marquis, who scolded every one about him, found fault with the garrison, and severely punished some negro slaves for their idleness in the plantations of the Platform; but, as the negroes were always idle, they considered their punishment very unfair.

The next evening Carlo went into the pretty sitting-room of the girls, which looked upon the river and out towards the beautiful bay; but when Felipa, who was very musical, and could sing in French, Spanish, and English, took up her lute, begging him to join in, he shook his head and surprised her by his answer.

'Felipa, don't ask me to sing; I am sure something is the matter with our father. He has got into a passion with Espada, and has put him in irons. It is very unwise, for Espada is a revengeful man, and he has great influence with the other men in the fort, some of whom were once outlaws from Puerto Velo. I wish I were a man and that my father would consult me. His Catholic Majesty ought to give my father a pension and let us all go back to Spain, for I am sure this place does not agree with him.'

Etta listened sadly to Carlo's words; when he was troubled about his father she was very sorry, for the boy was one whom nobody could help loving and admiring.

'Dear Carlo, if the King of Spain knew you he would, I am sure, make you Governor of beautiful St. Catherine, and then the poor negroes would not be oppressed, nor the gentle Indians hunted with dogs as you say they are sometimes. My father used to tell me of the dreadful cruelties used towards those poor people in past days. In England such things would not be allowed.' And, so saying, Etta raised her head proudly, feeling that an Englishman was better than a Spaniard.

Felipa passed her hands over the lute, saying, as the sweet tones were wafted through the room:

'Do not talk of such things, Etta. I am sure our Indians are not unhappy. Andreas loves us clearly; and we make the negroes, not the Indians, work on the marshes. Now I shall sing to drive away your ugly fancies.'

And she sang softly an evening hymn in Spanish, and Carlo and Etta joined in too, so that the sound of the young voices floated over the clear waters of the river, whilst the scent of sweet spice plants was wafted in. Surely Felipa was right: it was not suitable to talk of human miseries when all around nature was so exquisite. Old Catalina soon came in with the evening supper, saying the Marquis had gone out and would sup alone; and very early the girls retired to bed; Carlo told them not to dream of troubles, because he should be next door to them in case they were frightened. He felt that his sister was under his charge now that their father the Marquis was so little able to see after her.

Old Catalina counted her beads and muttered her prayers long after the two girls were sleeping soundly; and as she stooped over Etta's bed and noticed how fair the girl was, she murmured: 'It is a pity this pretty child is a Protestant; but I hope when she is older she will be one with us; for otherwise the Marquis will thrust her out and not let her come home with us to Spain, and my darling Felipa will break her heart, for she loves her English playfellow dearly.'

But the night was not to pass as quietly and peacefully as it had begun. Catalina lay on a mattress in her young mistress's room; but, being a heavy sleeper, she did not hear a hasty knock at the door, and the repeated call of 'Catalina! Felipa! quick! open the door! Why do you all sleep so soundly!'

Etta was the first to awake, and, throwing a coloured shawl about her, she ran to the door and opened it.

'What is up, Carlo?' she said rather sleepily.

'Wake Catalina and Felipa, and make haste and dress yourselves. My father says we must fly from here at once: the pirates are outside the bay. They will land early to-morrow, perhaps opposite this very fort. I beseech you, make all haste you can.' In a few minutes the frightened girl had shaken Catalina, and was trying to explain to Felipa what the danger was which threatened them.

'Oh, Felipa, the pirates are coming! Quick! quick! make haste and dress, for the Marquis says we must go back to Santa Teresa at once.'

Catalina began wringing her hands as poor Felipa turned deadly pale.

'We shall all be killed! May the saints protect us! Ah, my poor lamb! who could have believed those wicked wretches would have dared to show themselves here again, and in your father's lifetime. Alas! alas! make haste, sweetheart, and let us fly!'

Felipa was so frightened that she could hardly dress herself; and poor Etta, who knew more about the dreaded sea-robbers than did Felipa, tried to be brave in order not to increase the Spanish girl's terror. Etta was brave, and in many ways fearless in all ordinary affairs; but the cry 'The pirates are coming!' was one of the most dreaded in the West Indies--a cry which had often taken the spirit out of the heart of a bold sea-captain, who knew the desperate courage and reckless indifference to life exhibited by the men who infested these seas.

When Catalina and the girls were dressed they stepped forth, to find the Marquis and Carlo waiting for them. The former was walking up and down the hall of the house discussing the terrible news with some Spanish officers.

'Your Excellency knows that this fort cannot long resist a fierce assault,' said one of them. 'Were it not better to evacuate the Platform and concentrate our forces on the lesser island batteries? The fortresses there are strongly built, and with our men we could put them in a better state of resistance.'

'They will not land to-night,' said the wretched Marquis, looking the picture of an undecided man. 'If you think, Don Francisco, that flight would be the best plan, give orders to your men. Ah, here are the children. Are the horses ready? We have no time to waste; and yet what say you? Perhaps these wretches will think better of it, and leave Port St. Catherine in peace. Were it not better after all to stay here?'

'Let us stay, father,' put in Carlo. 'If you will let me fight, I am sure I shall be able to defend this place. Do not let this handful of rascals believe we fear them.'

'Give your opinion, Carlo, when you are asked, and not before. Are the horses ready? Now, Felipa, wrap your scarf well round you; we have a long way to go. Yes, I think it is better to go than to stay.'

'We shall be safe at Santa Teresa, father, are you sure?' sobbed Felipa; whilst Etta, looking at Carlo's fearless expression of face, determined to say nothing, for he had once said girls were always afraid.

It was a very anxious and silent cavalcade that made its way back towards the small island that night, and contrasted strangely with that which had come hither but quite lately, laughing and chatting to their hearts' content.

Carlo, however, managed to ride near Etta occasionally when the ground was clearer so as to allow their horses to walk abreast. Felipa kept close to her father, as if near him she would be quite safe from the dreaded foes. Every now and then she looked back into the darkness towards the little village at the foot of the Platform; where, however, all was at present still and quiet.

'Is it really true?' whispered Etta to Carlo, as if she could be heard from this distance; 'have they been seen?'

'I think so. José the one-eyed, who, they say, was once a pirate himself, noticed the ships creeping round towards the bay just before sundown, and he came all the way from San Salvador to give the news, hearing my father was here. However, of course they may think better of attacking us. José believes he recognises one of Mansfelt's old ships; but I think terror gives him double sight, For all that, I