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Sir Mortimer

Sir Mortimer

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 5650    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ce a tall ship and at those bones which once were animate,--if strange islands know our resting-place, sunk for evermore in huge and most unkindly forests,--if, being but pawns in a mighty game, we ar

er a myriad sort of sorrows and

k to those who fail--pebbles cast into water whose ring still wideneth, reacheth God knows what unguessable shore where loss may yet be counted gain! I drink to Fortune her minions, to Francis Drake and John Hawkins and M

f them who lounged in the doorway, or with folded arms played Atlas to the tavern walls. "Who be the roisterers within?" demanded a passing citizen of one of these supporters. The latter made no answer; he was a ragged retai

ws to the nymphs of Don Juan Ponce de Leon his fountain,--in plain words, my master, Sir Mortimer Ferne, Captain of the Cygnet, and his guests to dinner, to wit, Sir John Nevil, Admiral

livery?" snapped the poetaster. "'Tis a c

han in reason," quoth he. "I also am a gentleman. Hei

ath a venture in the Mere Honour, and that is the great ship the Queen hath lent Sir John, his other ships being the Marig

boy. "I'll bring you an emerald hollowe

point, leaned his arm upon the table and addressed him whose pledge had been so general. "Armida gardens and silver-singing mermaiden and Aphr

iberation of one who in his drinking had gone far and fast. "I pledge all scholars turned soldiers," he said, "all courtiers who stay not at court, all poets

ed silence. Mortimer Ferne put his tankard softly down and turned in

moon do not concern me," went on Baldry, with the gravity of

mation, sir?" asked his host,

go! 'Twas common talk." The Captain of the Star

e other, as smoothly as befo

his chair, and beneath whose stare of surprise and anger

asted death, but there was no shame. He who held command that lamentable day was Captain--now Sir Mortimer--Ferne; for I, who was Admiral of the expedition, must lie in my cabin, ill almost unto death of a calenture. I dare aver that no w

nwood, of the Marigold, Lieutenant Ambrose Wynch, Giles Arden, Anthony Paget, good men and tall, who greatly prized the man who alone kept his seat, smiling upon them from the head of the long table in the Triple Tun's best room. Baldry, muttering in his beard that he had made a throw amiss and that the wine was to blame, stumbled to his feet and stood with the rest. "Sir Mortimer Ferne!"

him, waited until there was quiet in the tavern of the

some other golden island, we shall win! Honor stayed with us that bloody day, and shall we not now bring her home enthroned? Ay, and for her handmaidens fame and noble service

idney. "Walter Raleigh and I have plans for next

imed Captain Philip Amadas. "Sir

ncy-fired youth from Devon, "I'll go out over bar in a ship of my own! I'll have all my

plate-fleet behind you," quo

enty. "The main-deck shall be piled with bars of silver, and in the hold sh

r than a pigeon's egg!" cried one

he stones the Bonaventure brought in the other day from that coast we touched at two years agone. If we miss the plate-fleet, my masters, if we find Cart

upon the board three pieces of glitteri

" said one,

l oro?" sugg

Moreover--" He sifted down upon the dark wood beside the stones a thimbleful of dull yellow grains

e few grains of gold. They were busy men in the vanguard of a quickened age, and theirs were its ardors, its Argus-eyed fancy and potent imagination. Show them an acorn, and straightway they saw a forest of oaks; an inch of a rainbow, and the mind grasped the whole vast arch,

. It went the round of the company, each man handling it, each with the talisman between his fingers gazing through the bars of this present hour at a pageant and p

iasses, their caravels and carracks, as bowed corn before you! Those of your company who are to die, may they di

Master Hudson

n--that by foul treachery was taken by the Spaniards at Cales. The priests put forth their hands and clutched him, who was ever outspoken, ever held fast to his own opinion!... To die! that

ir,--a good knight and true, defending faith and loyalty, what more consummate flower for crown of life? What loftier victory, supremer triumph? P

men began to exchange farewells. To-morrow would see the adventurers gone from England; to-day kinsmen and friends must say good-by, warmly, with clasping of hands and embracing, even with tears, for it was an age when men did n

in were men of note, and Sir John Nevil's adventure to the Indies had long been general talk. Singly or in little groups the revellers issued from the tavern, and for this or that known figure and fav

Baldry of the Star. The four, talking together, started towards the waterside where they were to take boat for the ships that lay above Greenwich, but

ntleman at the Triple Tun desires your honor

rapier to sell," quoth Baldry. "Boy, is the gentleman a lean gent

atched the latter's forefinger tracing the coastline from the Cape of Three Points to Golden Castile. By the window stood Arden, while on a settle near him lounged Henry Sedley, lieutenant to the Captain of the Cygnet; moreover a

rply. Sir Mortimer came forward and made him a low bow, which he, not to be outdone in courtesy, any more t

we will resume our talk of Fayal in the Azores. Your gossips lied, sir; and he who, not staying to examine a quarrel, b

ll be accommodated!" he cried. "Here and now, is't not? and with sword and dagger? Sir, I will spit you li

apers fluttering to the floor. The latter thrust himself between the two who had bared their weapons. "What is this,

"To-morrow I" become your sworn ma

n the street, hath a little parlor--a most sweet retired place, and beareth no lik

UST HIMSELF B

of sailing for a duello, in which one or both may be slain; but that strive together my captains, men vowed to noble service, loyal aid, whose names are in all mouths, who go forth upon this adventure not (I trust in God) with an eye single to the gain of the purse, but thinking, rather, to pluck green laurels for themselves, and to bring to the Queen and England gifts of waning danger, waxing

had been upon Baldry, but his words were for Mortimer Ferne, at whom he looked not at al

since I may not deny the truth of your words, John Nevil, I will reword my cartel. Captain Robert Baldry, I

"But so be it! I'll not fail you, Sir M

ied Ferne

ore of this! What! will you in this mood go forth side by s

He of the Star first swore, then burst into

d coo from the Thames to Terra Firma!" Suddenly he ceased to laugh, and let fall his hand

se company he had quitted were silent for a moment; then said Sir Mortimer, slowly: "I remember now--there was a Thomas Baldry

oung Sedley, hotly. "Detractio

pon its peg, then went across to the Admiral and put both hands upon his shoulders. The smile was yet upon his lips, but his voice had a bitter ring. "John, John," he said, "old wounds leave not their aching. That tall, fanfaronading fellow hath a power to anger me,--not his words alone, but the man himself.... Well, let him go until th

affection. "What! stings that yet?" he said. "I think you may have that knowledge of yourself that you were born to lead

er's shoulders, and with an effort too instantaneous to be apparent shook off h

'll go tell her tales of the Carib beauties. Master Sedley, you are for the court, I know. Would the gods h

erne, "am also

come to court that Nonpareil, that radiant Incognita, that be-rhymed Dione at who

ty acres of good Devon land went to its procuring. Since you are

d him) meant to be altogether such a one as his master in violet satin. Not a sea-dog simply and terrible fighter like Captain Manwood or Ambrose Wynch, nor a ruffler like Baldry, nor even a high, cold gentleman like Sir John, who slew Spaniards for the good of God and the Queen, and whose slow words when he was displeased cut like a rope's end. But he would fight and he would sing; he would laugh with his foe and then courteously kill him; he would know how to enter the presence, how to make

from stately barges, swift-plying wherries, ships at anchor, both great and small. Over all played mild sunshine, hung pale blue skies. The boy thought of other rivers he had seen and would see again, silent streams gliding through forests of a fearful loveliness, miles of churned foam rushing between black teeth of jagged roc

h the sunshine to a fair Queen's palace, and to-morrow we strive like fiends from hell for those two sirens, Lust of Gold and Lust of Blood. Therefore,

cried the boy. "Ho, the Cyg

de network against the blue; high in air floated bright pennants and the red cross in the white field. To and fro plied small boats, while over the water to them in th

" cried Sedley. "The Cygnet kno

ght! Trouble her not now with genuflections and salutings." His eyes dw

ch at times he gave voice, scarce knowing that he had spoken. "'Tis the ship herself that sings," he now began to say to himse

gs but upon one voyage, and that her last? 'Tis not the Cygnet that sings, bu

ated beneath his breath. "Such fame, such service, as that earthworm, that same Detraction, shall raise no more her l

ir Mortimer, nor of my gathering laurels, since I go with you! I count myself most fortunate." He threw back his

is hand into the water, then, straightening himself, shook from it the sparkling dr

dy," he said, courteously. "I thought you went on y

our lips; and when we reached the gardens, and there was none at all to see, we e'en put our arms about each other and wept. It is a right noble wench, my sister, and loves me dearly. And then, while

obin-a-dale following him. Half-way up, Sedley, noting the rich suit worn so point-device, and aware of how full in the sunshine of the Queen's favor st

outh's upward glance at the man in violet satin, standing a step or two above him, his hand resting upon the stone ba

shoulder. "For I would know, Henry--I would know if through all the days and nights that await us over the brim of to-morrow I may dream of an hour to come when that dear and fair lady shall bid me welcome." His eyes looked into the distance, and th

-" stammer

far away with shining eyes. "That unknown nymph, that lady whom I praise in verse, whose poet I am, that Dione at whose real name you all

that he did, was a very Palmerin or Amadis de Gaul. Now, impetuously, he put his hand upon that other hand touching his shoulder, and drew it to his lips in a caress, of which, being Elizabethans, neither was at all ashamed. In the dark, deeply fringed

, half shy, half eager. "May you dream as you wish, Sir Mortimer! Fo

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