The Miracle at St. Bruno's (55 page)

“We want to hear about your voyage,” said Honey politely. “Let us go into the punch room. Supper will be served shortly.”

She led the way up the three stone stairs past the dining room to the punch room and there we sat while Edward’s servants brought malmsey for us to drink. Honey was very proud of fine Venetian glasses, which were very fashionable and which she had brought with her. I imagined the Pennlyons had never seen anything so fine.

We sat rather stiffly on our chairs, the tapestry back and seats of which had been worked by Edward’s great-aunt. I thought the chair might break under Sir Penn, for he sat with little thought for its fragility and Honey threw a glance at me as though to say, We have to get used to country manners.

Sir Penn said what a fine thing it was to have neighbors of the quality to bring their fine Venetian glass for them to drink out of. His eyes twinkled as he spoke as though he were laughing at us and in a way despised us—except Honey of course and perhaps me. Both of them—father and son—had an insolence in their looks which suggested that they were assessing our personal attributes in a manner which was slightly disturbing.

“And how long are you staying here?” he wanted to know of Edward.

Edward replied evasively that so much depended on circumstances. His father had wished him to come and look after the estates here for a while. It would depend on what happened on the Surrey estate.

“Ah,” said Sir Penn, “you noble families have your seats in every part of the kingdom. Why, young sir, there must be times when you wonder whether you’re a Surrey or a Devon man or maybe there is some other county to claim you.”

“My father has estates in the North,” said Edward.

“Marry! Why, you’ve a foot in every part of the Queen’s realm, young man.”

“By no means,” said Edward. “And might I not say that your ships sail on every known part of the ocean?”

“You can say it, sir, you can say it. And Jake will tell you that it’s so. Just back he is from a long voyage, but he’s too taken with the company to give voice.”

Jake said: “The company delights me as you see.” And he was looking straight at me, mocking because here he was and I had said it was not likely that he would be invited. “But I’ll confirm it’s true that I have but recently returned from a voyage.”

“My sister was excited when she saw your ship come in. She sees the ships come in from her window, and never seems to tire of it.”

Jake had brought his chair closer to mine. They had not the manner which we had come to expect. These people were lacking the niceties of behavior; they were more frank than we were, coarser too.

“So you liked my ship,” he said.

“I like all ships.”

“That’s the right spirit,” he said. “And you’ve never had the chance of seeing them before.”

“We were close to the river. I often saw boats sailing by.”

He laughed derisively. “Wherries and tugs,” he said.

“And royal barges. I have seen the Queen on her way to her Coronation.”

“And now you’ve seen the queen of ships.”

“Yours?” I asked.

“The
Rampant Lion,
none other.”

“So she is the queen, is she?”

“I’ll take you out to her. I’ll show you. You’ll see for yourself then.” He leaned toward me. I drew away and looked at him coldly, which seemed to amuse him. “When will you come?” he asked.

“I doubt I ever should.”

He raised eyebrows rather darker than his hair, which made the blue eyes more startling.

“You never thought to see me here, yet here I am. And now you tell me you never will come aboard my ship. I’ll warrant you’ll be my guest there within a week. Come, I’ll wager you.”

“I do not wager.”

“But you’ll come all the same.” He was bending toward me so that his face was close to my own. I attempted to look at him with indifference, but I was not very convincing. He at least was aware of the effect he had had on me. I drew back and his eyes mocked. “Yes,” he went on, “on my ship. Less than a week today. It’s a wager.”

“I have already told you I do not wager.”

“We’ll discuss terms later.”

I thought I should not care to be alone with such a man on his ship.

We were interrupted by the arrival of another guest, Mistress Crocombe, a simpering middle-aged woman, and when she had joined us in a glass of malmsey one of the servants announced that supper was ready and we went down the stairs to the dining room.

It was a beautiful room, one of the loveliest in the Grange I thought it. Through the leaded windows we could see the courtyard; the walls were hung with tapestries depicting the Wars of the Roses; the table was tastefully laid with more of the Venetian glass and gleaming silver dishes. Honey had made a centerpiece of various herbs which she grew in her herb garden and the effect was gracious.

Edward sat at the head of the table and Honey at the foot. On Honey’s right was Sir Penn and on her left Jake; on Edward’s right I sat and Miss Crocombe on his left, which meant that I was seated next to Jake and Miss Crocombe next to his father.

Could it be that this Captain Pennlyon is being brought forward as another possible suitor for me? I wondered. The thought angered me. Did they think they were going to make me forget Carey by producing a succession of men who could only remind me of Carey because of the differences between them?

Honey had certainly some very fine cooks. The food was excellently served; there was beef and lamb as well as sucking pig, a boar’s head and an enormous pie; and she had taken the trouble to introduce that pleasant custom of honoring the guests which we followed at home. One of the pies was in the form of a ship and on it had been placed by thin layers of paste the words “The Rampant Lion.” The delight of the Pennlyons when they saw this was almost childish; they laughed and ate great chunks of it. I had never seen such appetites as those two men had. The food was washed down often noisily with muscadel and malmsey, those wines which came from Italy and the Levant and were growing so fashionable.

They talked too, dominating the conversation. Miss Crocombe clearly adored Sir Penn, which was strange considering she was a somewhat prim spinster in her late thirties and certainly not the kind to attract such a man as Sir Penn whose appetites in all things I could imagine would be voracious. He was regarding Honey in a manner which I thought quite lascivious and occasionally he would throw a glance at me, amused, half-regretful, and the implication I put on that was that he was leaving me to the attention of his son. I thought his manners unpardonable. It seemed of no importance to him that Honey was the wife of his host.

Honey, however, seemed not to notice, or perhaps she was so used to blatant admiration that she accepted it as normal.

I asked Jake where his last voyage had taken him.

“Out to the Barbary Coast,” he said. “What a voyage! We had our troubles. Gales and seas enough to overturn us and such damage done to the ship that at one time it seemed we would have to limp home. But we braved it and we got into harbor and we tricked ourselves out to continue as we had meant.”

I said: “You must face death a thousand times during one voyage.”

“A thousand times is true, Mistress. That is why we love life so much. And do you not face death on land now and then?”

I was grave. I thought of my mother’s anxious face and I remembered that my grandfather had lost his head for no reason than that he had sheltered a friend and my grandmother’s second husband had died at the stake because he held certain opinions.

I said: “’Tis true. No one can be completely sure on one day that he or she will live to the next.”

He leaned toward me. “Therefore we should enjoy each day as it comes along and the devil take the next.”

“So that is your philosophy. Do you never plan for what is to come?”

His bold eyes looked into mine. “Oh … often. Then I make sure that what I wish for comes to pass.”

“You are very certain of yourself.”

“A sailor must always be certain of himself. And I’ll tell you another thing. He’s always in a hurry. You see time is something he cannot afford to waste. When will you come to see my ship?”

“You must ask my sister and her husband if they would care to make the inspection.”

“But I was inviting you.”

“I should like to hear of your adventures.”

“On the Barbary Coast? They don’t make a pretty story.”

“I did not expect they would.” I looked across the table at Mistress Crocombe, who was coyly begging Sir Penn to tell her of
his
adventures on the high seas. He began to tell fantastic stories which I was sure were meant to shock us all. It seemed that he had more adventures than Sinbad himself. He had struggled with sea monsters and fought with savages; he had landed his craft on the coasts and brought natives ashore to work in his galleys; he had quelled a mutiny, ridden a storm; there was nothing he had not done, it seemed; and everything he said was overlaid with innuendo. When he led a little party of his men into an African hamlet I saw those men seizing the women, submitting them to indignity, pillaging, robbing.

Miss Crocombe covered her eyes with dismay and blushed hotly. She was a very silly woman and made her designs on Sir Penn too blatant. Did she really think he was going to marry her? I found it embarrassing to watch them together.

Tenerife was mentioned. It was the largest of what were called the Dog Islands because when they were first discovered so many dogs were there. Now they were known as the Canaries.

Tenerife was in the hands of the Spaniards.

“Spanish dogs!” growled Sir Penn. “I’d beat them all out of the ocean, that I would, aye and will … I and a few more like me.” He became fierce suddenly, all banter dropped. I saw the cruel gleam in his eyes. “God’s Death!” he cried, hitting the table with his fist so that the Venetian glasses trembled. “These dogs shall be swept off the seas, for I tell you this, my friends, it is either them or us. There’s no room for us both.”

“The oceans are wide,” I said, for there was something about these men which made me want to contradict them and prove them wrong if possible, “and much may yet be discovered.”

He glared at me and his eyes had narrowed—little pinpoints of blue fire between the weather wrinkles. “Then
we’ll
discover them, Madam. Not they. And wherever I see them I’ll bring my guns out; I’ll blow them off the sea; I’ll take their treasure ships from them and bring them where they belong to be.”

“Treasure which they have discovered?” I said.

“Treasure!” It was Jake beside me. “There’s gold in the world … it only has to be brought home.”

“Or filched from those who have already found it?”

Honey and Edward were looking at me in dismay. I didn’t care. I felt some tremendous surge sweeping over me. I had to fight these men, father and son, brigands and pirates both, for that was what they were; and when I talked to them I was excited, alive as I hadn’t been since I knew that I had lost Carey.

“By God,” said Sir Penn, “it would seem the lady is a friend of the Dons.”

“I have never seen one.”

“Swarthy devils. I’d cut the liver and lights out of ’em. I’d send ’em down to the deep sea bed, for ’tis where they belong to be. Don’t side with the Spaniards, child, or you’ll be going against what’s natural.”

“I was siding with no one,” I retorted, “I was saying that if they had found the treasure it was theirs just as if you had found it it would be yours.”

“Now don’t you bring schoolroom logic into this, me dear. Findings bain’t keepings when it comes to Spanish gold. Nay, there’s one place where treasure belongs to be and that’s in an English ship and we’re going to drive the Spaniards from the sea with might and main.”

“There are many of them and I believe they have made great discoveries.”

“There are many of them, true, and we are going to see that there are not so many, we are going to take their discoveries from them.”

“Why do you not make some yourself instead?”

“Instead! We shall make them, never fear; we shall make and take. Because I tell you this, little lady, the sea belongs to us and no poxy Don is going to take one fathom of it from us.”

Sir Penn sat back in his chair red-faced, almost angry with me. Mistress Crocombe looked a little afraid. I felt the color in my cheeks; Honey was signaling with her eyes for me to be silent.

Jake said: “The old Queen died in time. Our Sovereign Lady Elizabeth is of a different temper.”

“By God, yes,” cried Sir Penn. “We’ll defend her on sea and land. And if any poxy Don turns his snout toward these shores … by God, he’ll wish he never had.”

“We can guess what would have happened had Mary lived,” went on Jake. “We’d have had the Inquisition here.”

“We never would have. Thank God there are men of Cornwall and Devon who would have stood together and put a stop to that,” declared Sir Penn. “And God be praised we have a new Queen and she understands well that the people of this land will have nought of Papists. Mary burned our Protestant martyrs at the stake. And by God, I’d burn alive those Papists who would attempt to bring Popery back to England.”

Edward had turned pale. For a moment I thought he was going to protest. Honey was gazing at her husband, warning and imploring. Be careful! she was saying; and indeed he must be. I wondered what would happen if these fierce men knew that their host and hostess were members of that faith which they despised.

I heard myself say in a rather high-pitched voice: “My stepfather was one of those martyrs.”

The tension relaxed then. We had suffered such a death in the family; the implication was that we were of one belief.

Sir Penn lifted his glass and said: “To Our Sovereign Lady who has made her intentions clear.”

We could all drink to the Queen and we did so. Equanimity was restored.

We talked of the Coronation and the two men were ready to listen for a few minutes; and after that we went on to speak of local affairs, of the country and the prospects for hunting the deer; and an invitation was extended to us to visit Lyon Court.

It was late in the evening when the men left; and when I was in my room I found that I was wide awake and I sat at my turret window, knowing it was useless to try to sleep.