what cover I could find. Suddenly, I came upon tracks in the sand at the forest's edge--several people with heels. I followed the tracks.
Soon I heard voices. Pausing, I listened. They spoke in Spanish. The Spanish were enemies of the English, but there were Irishmen in the armies of Spain as there were in the armies of France, Austria, and several other nations. I had lived, briefly, in Spain and spoke the language fluently.
Again I looked to the sea. No ship. No sign of boat or barge, nor was there any obvious cove or inlet where a ship might be hidden. Yet I knew enough not to trust my eyes on that score. Many such places are invisible until one is close upon them.
I had been told that there were outer islands that sheltered inland seas, islands many miles long, thin bars of sand crested by brush. Was I on one of those? It seemed likely.
Walking through the trees, I found myself at the edge of a small clearing. And there, gathered as if for a picnic in the forest, were a dozen people. Three were women, at least one of whom was young and lovely. Some of the men appeared to be gentlemen. The others were soldiers, or sailors. They were roasting meat. There was also another odor, very pleasant ... it brought memories of Constantinople.
Coffee!Only a little of the delightful brew had come to England, by way of Arabia and Turkey. The brew was discovered, it was said, by a goatherd who found his goats remaining awake all night after eating of the berries.
Stepping through the last few trees, I paused. Dramatically, I hoped. Their eyes came to me and I made a low bow, sweeping the grass with my plume, and greeted them in their own tongue. At the sight of me the men's hands went to their weapons, the women's to their bosoms.
"Senores and senoritas, I greet you! May I ask what brings you to my humble estate?"
They stared as well they might. One of them, a young man with arrogant eyes, black mustaches, and a pointed beard, replied sharply. "Yourestate?"
"But of course! Do you see anyone else about?" Replacing my hat, I walked toward them. "I am Captain Tatton Chantry, at your service."
"An Englishman!" he almost spat the word.
"An Irishman," I corrected, "and I bid you welcome. If you are hungered, feel free to kill what game you need, and please drink of the streams. The water is fresh and cold."
"By what right--"
Before he could continue the question which might have proved embarrassing, I interrupted: "I do not see your ship. Is it close by?"
"Our vessel sank. We have been cast ashore." It was an older man who spoke, a fine, handsome gentleman whose hair and beard were salted with fray. "If you could lead us to a place of safety we should be eternally grateful."
It was not my intention to reveal my own destitute condition, for at all times it is best to deal from a position of strength or seeming strength.
"Unfortunately, there is no such place near here. My own people are not close by." I paused. "You were bound for the Indies?"
"For Spain," the older man said. "I am Don Diego de Aldebaran. You speak excellent Spanish, Captain."
The pretty young woman interrupted. "Will you join us, Captain? I fear we have little to offer, for we escaped our ship only in the nick of time."
I bowed. "A pleasure, I assure you!" Well, that at least was honest. Little did she know how much of a pleasure. "Your vessel sank, then?"
"She was sinking. There was little time to take more than the merest clothing, and a little food."
Yet all the men were armed with swords and cutlasses, and an occasional pistol and musket were visible. Both Don Diego and the arrogant young man, whom I now ignored, carried pistols in their sashes.
Another young woman, an Indian servant by her appearance, brought me meat, bread, and coffee. As we ate, for the others dined also, they talked. Wisely, I kept silent and listened.
It became immediately apparent that they suffered from a divided command, with differing notions of what was now to be done. Don
Soon I heard voices. Pausing, I listened. They spoke in Spanish. The Spanish were enemies of the English, but there were Irishmen in the armies of Spain as there were in the armies of France, Austria, and several other nations. I had lived, briefly, in Spain and spoke the language fluently.
Again I looked to the sea. No ship. No sign of boat or barge, nor was there any obvious cove or inlet where a ship might be hidden. Yet I knew enough not to trust my eyes on that score. Many such places are invisible until one is close upon them.
I had been told that there were outer islands that sheltered inland seas, islands many miles long, thin bars of sand crested by brush. Was I on one of those? It seemed likely.
Walking through the trees, I found myself at the edge of a small clearing. And there, gathered as if for a picnic in the forest, were a dozen people. Three were women, at least one of whom was young and lovely. Some of the men appeared to be gentlemen. The others were soldiers, or sailors. They were roasting meat. There was also another odor, very pleasant ... it brought memories of Constantinople.
Coffee!Only a little of the delightful brew had come to England, by way of Arabia and Turkey. The brew was discovered, it was said, by a goatherd who found his goats remaining awake all night after eating of the berries.
Stepping through the last few trees, I paused. Dramatically, I hoped. Their eyes came to me and I made a low bow, sweeping the grass with my plume, and greeted them in their own tongue. At the sight of me the men's hands went to their weapons, the women's to their bosoms.
"Senores and senoritas, I greet you! May I ask what brings you to my humble estate?"
They stared as well they might. One of them, a young man with arrogant eyes, black mustaches, and a pointed beard, replied sharply. "Yourestate?"
"But of course! Do you see anyone else about?" Replacing my hat, I walked toward them. "I am Captain Tatton Chantry, at your service."
"An Englishman!" he almost spat the word.
"An Irishman," I corrected, "and I bid you welcome. If you are hungered, feel free to kill what game you need, and please drink of the streams. The water is fresh and cold."
"By what right--"
Before he could continue the question which might have proved embarrassing, I interrupted: "I do not see your ship. Is it close by?"
"Our vessel sank. We have been cast ashore." It was an older man who spoke, a fine, handsome gentleman whose hair and beard were salted with fray. "If you could lead us to a place of safety we should be eternally grateful."
It was not my intention to reveal my own destitute condition, for at all times it is best to deal from a position of strength or seeming strength.
"Unfortunately, there is no such place near here. My own people are not close by." I paused. "You were bound for the Indies?"
"For Spain," the older man said. "I am Don Diego de Aldebaran. You speak excellent Spanish, Captain."
The pretty young woman interrupted. "Will you join us, Captain? I fear we have little to offer, for we escaped our ship only in the nick of time."
I bowed. "A pleasure, I assure you!" Well, that at least was honest. Little did she know how much of a pleasure. "Your vessel sank, then?"
"She was sinking. There was little time to take more than the merest clothing, and a little food."
Yet all the men were armed with swords and cutlasses, and an occasional pistol and musket were visible. Both Don Diego and the arrogant young man, whom I now ignored, carried pistols in their sashes.
Another young woman, an Indian servant by her appearance, brought me meat, bread, and coffee. As we ate, for the others dined also, they talked. Wisely, I kept silent and listened.
It became immediately apparent that they suffered from a divided command, with differing notions of what was now to be done. Don
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