CHAPTER XXIV.
PETER TROLLOPE SHUTS UP SHOP.
On a certain gray, windy morning in late October, Peter Trollope's shopwas more than usually busy. Every bench had its occupant, and the talkwas loud and animated. In the big chair near the fire sat that greatcourtier Sir Walter Raleigh, smoking a stick of twisted tobacco, towhich he gave the Spanish name of _cigarro_. He joined not much in thegossip, for he had already recounted all that was so far knownconcerning the last fight of the _Revenge_, news of which had come toEngland some few days earlier, and he was passing doleful in spirit overthe death of his noble kinsman, Sir Richard Grenville. Now and again hedid indeed put in a word when it was question of deciding the number ofSpanish galleons that had been vanquished in the fight, or the number ofSpaniards that had been slain, but for the most part he was gloomilysilent.
"My brother Tom was aboard of her, and I'll engage that he gave not uphis life ere he had laid a good dozen of the Dons low," said a burlyfisherman from one of the corners of the shop.
"Ay," added another man, "and my son Bill was among 'em; likewise mygood wife's brother Dick."
Peter Trollope snipped his scissors over the head of the young gallantwhose hair he was trimming.
"My boy Timothy went also out with the fleet," said he; "though 'twasnot on one of Her Majesty's ships that he sailed, but aboard JacobWhiddon's _Pilgrim_, of which there hath been no word."
"She was seen taking some part in the battle," remarked Sir WalterRaleigh, puffing a cloud of blue smoke in a column above his head, "forsince Whiddon was but an adventurer and owed no duty of obedience to myLord Thomas, he was free to do what he listed. And he listed to have ashot at the galleons, and so, for aught I know, came to grief."
"Ah!" sighed the barber. "Then peradventure Timothy hath, after all,been slain?"
"As like as not," nodded Sir Walter; "as like as not. And you may takeit that since naught hath been heard of the _Pilgrim_, she hath eithergone to the bottom in the battle, or else been broken on the rocks ofthe Western Isles, as so many others were in the great storm thatfollowed on the heels of the fight."
"The rascal was full eager to join the _Revenge_," continued the barber,"and did declare most positively to me that Sir Richard had promised hima berth. 'Twas his desire to be with his young master, Master GilbertOglander, that took him away--"
"Touching Master Gilbert Oglander," broke in Christopher Pym, addressingSir Walter Raleigh, "he was on board the _Revenge_. I pray you, SirWalter, I pray you, tell me is there aught of news concerning the lad?"
Sir Walter shook his head.
"No," he answered. "Much do I fear me that he hath gone with the rest.And 'tis a pity if it be so, for now that the vile traitor, his uncle,hath paid the penalty of his treachery--"
"The penalty!" interrupted Christopher Pym. "Hath he then been provenguilty?"
"Ay," returned Raleigh. And at this the whole room was silent, for theinformation was new. Sir Walter Raleigh, resting his elbows on the armsof his chair, held his two hands in front of him, busying his be-ringedfingers with adjusting the outer leaf of tobacco about his cigar. "Ay,"he went on, "Jasper hath paid the penalty, for being found guilty by thejudgment of the Star Chamber, he was on Monday morning last beheaded onTower Hill."
Sir Walter paused, and having adjusted his cigar to his satisfaction hetook up the fire-tongs, and with them picked out a piece of burning woodfrom the fire the while he lighted the end of his cigar.
"You may be sure," he went on, "that 'twas not as Lord Champernoun thatthe rascal was tried. For apart from the fact that he had not yet provedthat his nephew, Master Gilbert Oglander, was dead, and that thereforehe was himself by right of succession the real Lord Champernoun--apartfrom this, I say, he had neither taken out his license as a baron nortaken his seat in Her Majesty's House of Peers. He had been over eagerto claim his dead father's name and estates, you see, my masters, and byvery reason of his too great eagerness he revealed his trickery and thevile treachery that lay behind it."
"Ay, but his treachery and his machinations and intrigues with the Kingof Spain would yet have been discovered," said Peter Trollope, "evenalthough he had not sought to make himself Baron Champernoun. For ithath been amply proven that even before my Lord Thomas Howard's fleetdeparted out of Plymouth, Jasper Oglander had connived at the escape ofthe Spanish prisoners of war--had even planned their escape,indeed,--and had sent off his son Philip to Spain to inform the Spanishking of the purpose of my Lord Thomas's expedition against the platefleet."
"All that and more than that was brought out at the man's trial inLondon," said Sir Walter Raleigh. "And now it seemeth that that same sonof his, Philip Oglander, was present on board Don Alonzo Bassan'sgalleon."
"'Twere well, methinks, that the lad had accompanied his father to TowerHill," remarked Peter Trollope. "And now," he added, "a strange thoughthath occurred to me. It is that, should Master Gilbert--or LordChampernoun as he should truly be named--have been slain in the fight onthe _Revenge_, and should his cousin have escaped, then the cur PhilipOglander must now be regarded as the head of the Oglander family, andthe rightful owner of the title and estates."
No one seemed to take notice of this remark, but at last Christopher Pymspoke.
"Better that the title and estates should fall into oblivion than that,"said he. "Howsoever it be," he added, rising and taking up hiswalking-staff, "I am now impelled to take horse and journey toWilloughby Grange, there to inform my Lady Betty Oglander of this news,and bid her return to her rightful home at Modbury."
"I pray you give her ladyship my most devoted remembrances," saidRaleigh; "and bid her from me to be of good cheer concerning her sonGilbert, for if the lad be no more, he hath at least given up his lifefor the honour of his Queen and country, even as his sire and so manyother of his noble family hath done before him. Give you good-day,Master Pym, and God speed you."
An hour or so after this conversation had ended, Peter Trollope satalone in his shop thinking sadly over the remark that had fallen fromSir Walter Raleigh touching the probable fate of the _Pilgrim_. Tradehad not been brisk at the "Pestle and Mortar" during the months ofTimothy's absence. Of hair cutting and the trimming of beards there hadbeen plenty, but it chanced that a very skilful man of medicine hadopened a business a few doors away, and had succeeded so well that hehad drawn all Master Trollope's surgical trade away from him, so that,but for an occasional customer who came in to have a tooth drawn, Petercould scarcely with justice call himself a barber-surgeon, but merely abarber. Also, he had fallen into debt, and his creditors were pressinghim for a settlement. Upon all his other distresses had come the wordthat in all probability his son Timothy had been either killed in battleor drowned in a storm; and this was the destruction of all his hopes,for he had in his more sanguine moments nursed the thought that Tim,even though he returned penniless and ragged, might yet be a help tohim at this present time, and a joy to him in the future. But if Timwere really dead, what more could be looked to in this world butcontinued poverty and hard work and unhappiness?
In the midst of his doleful sorrowings and regrets he heard the clatterof horse's feet on the stones of the street outside. The door of theshop was swung open, and in bounced Timothy himself.
His face was rosy brown and it wore a joyous smile, and although hisclothing was woefully ragged and white with the salt of the sea, yetthere was an air of dignity about him that was quite foreign to the ladwho had gone away seven months earlier. He strode into the shop asthough he had been one of the lords of the land, and stood in front ofhis father with his arms akimbo, looking down upon the amazed barber andlaughing at his confusion.
"Father," said Timothy, "I am come back."
"In sooth," said the barber, "my eyes give me ample evidence of thefact."
"And art glad to see me, father?"
"Ay, God knoweth I am that, Tim. Give me thy hand!"
"What, though I am dressed as a beggar withal?"
/> "Ay, though thy rags were e'en raggeder than they are," said Peter, thetears filling his eyes. He shook the lad's hand with a grip whosestrength betokened his fulness of joy. "Tim, my lad," he added after abrief pause, "tell me, I pray you, hast thou been in battle?"
"Ay," returned Timothy, "the most glorious battle that ever was. I havefought, father, as my wounds shall presently prove to thee, and havekilled as many Spaniards as might fill thy poor shop."
"An thou hast proved thyself a man and not a coward?"
Timothy nodded.
"'Tis enough for me," said Peter. "And now, I pray you, tell me where isthy ship?"
"Lying in Polperro Bay," answered Timothy, "where we dropped anchor buta half-dozen hours since. Master Whiddon and my Lord Champernoun--MasterGilbert Oglander that was--have come with me into Plymouth, and bade mebeseech thee to come with me to the sign of the Crown, where they noware, and where we are presently to sit down to the lordliest banquetmine host can provide. So get thee ready instanter, while that I gowithin to see my mother and don some goodlier raiment."
"Nay, but I cannot leave my business at this hour of the day," objectedPeter.
At which Timothy laughed and said:
"Hark ye, father, and listen to me. Thou hast cropped thy last head ofhair and shaven thy last chin. No more work shalt thou do for the restof thy days. Thou shalt have a coach to drive in, and a lordly mansionto live in, with a tribe of serving people to do thy bidding, and shaltlive on the best in the land--"
"Nay, mock me not, boy," cried the barber. "I can ill bear thy jestsjust now; for of a truth I am deep in debt, and know not how we shallcontrive to live without charity beyond another week."
"A truce to your charity," cried Tim. "Hark'ee, father, I am rich. Ay,rich as a king." He plunged his hands into his pockets and scatteredmany golden coins upon the chair near which he stood. "These be but afew trifles that have slipped into my pockets unawares, and are but asmall sample of the _Pilgrim's_ cargo. If more be needed for the nonce,thou hast but to send a cart round to Polperro and get more. But bearthis in mind, good my father, thou shalt shut up shop for good and all,and never again shall thine ears be assailed by the snipping of barber'sscissors or the fizzling of curling-tongs!"
Now this that Timothy promised did actually come to pass. Nor was PeterTrollope the only one in Plymouth who enjoyed some benefit from thetreasures of _The Golden Galleon_. Every man and boy of the ship'scompany of the _Pilgrim_ received his proportionate share of the wealth,while Captain Whiddon--without whom Timothy and Gilbert might never havereturned to England--received only less than Gilbert and Timothy.
The _Pilgrim_ had not been large enough to hold all the treasure that_The Golden Galleon_ had contained, not even although her very ballasthad been jettisoned to make more room. But when she had been loaded withas much as she could safely carry, she had been brought home as quicklyas the winds would drive her. What became of the old derelict, whethershe sank to the bottom as a consequence of the shots that were firedinto her hull by the departing _Pilgrim_, or whether she remained afloatlong enough for yet another ship to board her and take toll of herremaining treasure, Gilbert Oglander and his companions never learned.But, judging by circumstances, it is pretty certain that she sank to thebottom, and that, as Jacob Hartop had expressed it, her treasures wentdown to the mermaid's halls, where her precious gems might serve tobedeck the mermaid's necks.
* * * * *
It was on the third day after the return of the _Pilgrim_ that GilbertOglander--or, as we may now call him, Lord Champernoun--rode along thefamiliar lanes to Modbury. He had thus delayed his home-coming becausehe had heard that his mother and Drusilla were still absent. But on thismorning Christopher Pym had come to him and told him that they hadreturned, and were expecting him.
Timothy rode in his company, not now as his squire but as his companion,for it was as companions and loving friends that they were alwaysafterwards to regard each other.
Gilbert waxed indignant when he saw the work that his uncle had done inhewing down the trees in the avenue of the manor, but his indignationwas soon overcome by the joy of meeting his mother and Drusilla.
To tell of that meeting, and to record all that was said and done onthat momentous day would make a long story in itself. In the eveningGilbert sat at the head of the table with his dearest friends and allhis household about him. It was a happy occasion, not only for himselfwho had endured so much, but also for his mother and for Drusilla, whonow realized for the first time that the terrors held over them byJasper Oglander were no more to be feared, and whose anxiety concerningGilbert was at last allayed by seeing him there alive and well,occupying his rightful place, and bearing within himself the promise ofa great and useful manhood.