HOW ROGER TREVOSE AND HARRY EDGWYTH MADE A CERTAIN COMPACT.

“Now now, Roger, my lad; what are you thinking of?” These words were addressed to a tall, fair young man of about eighteen or nineteen years of age, who was standing on Plymouth Hoe, gazing earnestly at the Sound and the evolutions of certain vessels which had just entered it round Penlee Point.

The speaker was a lad of about the same age, but shorter in height, sturdier in build, and altogether more robust and healthy-looking than his companion, who belonged rather to the class of dreamers than that of workers.

The time was a bright summer morning in the month of June, in the year 1586; and although the great Armada which Philip of Spain fondly believed was to crush England was as yet undreamed of, war was even then being carried on in a somewhat desultory manner between England and Spain, very much to the disadvantage of the latter country.

English gentlemen, who called themselves “gentlemen adventurers”, were fitting out merchant-vessels as warships, and sailing for the Spanish Main and the Indies in the hope of securing some of the splendid prizes that were at that time to be obtained through pluck and audacity, in the shape of Spanish galleons richly and heavily laden with spices and gold from Manila, plate from Acapulco, or costly silks and fabrics and treasure untold from the new Spanish colony of Mexico.

It was of these stirring deeds and adventures that Roger Trevose of Pentillie Manor, on the river Tamar, in the county of Devon fairest and sweetest of all English counties, was thinking when his friend Harry Edgwyth, who had just arrived upon the scene, put his question: “How now, Roger, my lad; what are you thinking of?”

“I was thinking, Harry, what a splendid thing it would be if you and I could join some of these gentlemen adventurers (heroes I call them), and try our luck in the Spanish seas, fighting for our fortunes, and the glory of dear old England. Just think of it, lad! That is a life for a man to lead; is’t not so, Harry? Pentillie Castle, as you know well, is heavily mortgaged; and my poor father and mother are very hardly put to it to make sufficient money to keep the old place up; and what would be more fitting, Harry, I ask you, than for the only son, the heir to those fair estates and that grand old mansion, to sail in some ship going to the Indies, and endeavour to retrieve the fortunes of his house? Think for a moment, Harry; who knows but that we might sight some rich Spanish galleon, laden almost to the water’s edge with plate, and, having sighted her, chase and capture her! Why, a share of one of those splendid cargoes that the plate galleons carry would probably be sufficient to enable me to restore the fortunes of the dear old home, pay off its mortgages, and free my dearly-loved parents from the load of care that is now oppressing them. And that,” continued Roger, becoming wildly enthusiastic, “need not be the finish of it all. With some of the money I could and would fit out an expedition of my own, and sail for the Indies on my own account; and perhaps return with my ship more richly-laden than any ship has ever been before; and my name would ring through England; I should be given honours; perhaps be called to court; and who knows, Harry, where I should stop! Why, lad, it is enough to fire the most sluggish blood, let alone mine, which is hot enough, God wot, as is that of all the Trevose family.”

“Ay, Roger,” answered Harry, “but have you well weighed the risks; have you thought of what your parents would feel if you left them all alone to go to the Spanish Main, whence, perchance, you would never return? Remember, lad, you are their only son, and heir to the old estate and manor; and think what they would feel did you never come back.”

“Harry,” replied Roger, “never, never have I seen or met your equal for caution! Why prate, lad, of what might happen? Think rather of what is certain to befall, and that is that I shall come back a rich man, rich enough to enable me to realise all my wishes and ambitions. Why, if everyone thought as you do, where would now be the names of the heroes who have already made our dear England the mistress of the seas? `Nothing dare, nothing gain’, lad; that’s my motto!”

“You are quite right in what you say,” replied Harry, “but only too well do I know your careless and reckless disposition, Roger; and although you would surely do daring deeds, and cover yourself with glory, I fear me greatly that you would not live to bring home that treasure, even if you did live long enough to gain it.”

“Harry, if I did not know you as I do, lad,” retorted Roger, “I should be inclined to dub you craven; but, as it is, I know full well that you only suffer from excess of caution, even as you say that I suffer from lack of the same. But I do not agree with your prophecy that I should not live to bring home my spoil. No, I feel within myself that I shall succeed in my venture, if I can bring my father and mother to consent to my going; and I am also convinced that I shall be able to bring my riches safely home. Meanwhile, the question is: Can I persuade some brave captain to take me on his ship?”

“Have you, then, truly made up your mind to sail for the Indies, Roger, if you can get one of our adventurers to take you?” cried Harry. “Methought you were only dreaming, and did not seriously entertain the idea of leaving England.”

“I was never more serious in my life,” replied Roger; “in fact I had made up my mind some time since, and was but considering how and when I could best put the matter before my parents, and wondering whether they would give their consent to my embarking on such an enterprise. And I would give much, Harry, my friend, if I could persuade you to accompany me. Has not the prospect of adventure, glory, and perchance great wealth, any attraction for you?”

“Ay, that has it,” asserted Harry; “but you seem to forget that, if I go with you, I must leave my sister behind; and what would become of her, poor maid? I have no other relations to whom she could go, or who would care for her; and I cannot leave her behind, all alone.”

Roger broke into a peal of merry laughter.

“Why, lad,” said he, “you are forever making difficulties where none exist! Now list to me, for I have a proposal to make you. If I can persuade my father and mother to let me go, they will then, as you say, be alone, seeing that I am their only child; but if your sister were to go to them, it would in part reconcile them to my absence, while at the same time the arrangement would provide a home for your sister, and a way out of your difficulty. What do you say to my idea?”

“That it is a good one,” agreed Harry; “and I thank you, Roger, for the thought, which truly had occurred to me also, but I did not like to be the first to mention it. My sister has ever loved your mother, and I think your mother has some little affection for the maid; and I am sure, therefore, that she would be happy with your folk.”

“Let us then consider the matter as settled, so far as we are concerned, Harry,” said Roger; “and let us pledge each other to sail together; to stand by each other through thick and thin, through fair and foul; to share all dangers; and to divide equally all plunder that we may obtain from the rascally Dons. Then I will away to consult my folk; and you shall come too, Harry, and add your persuasions to mine. You shall entreat them, with me, to let me go, promising them that, if they will part with me, your sister shall keep them company till we return. And I am sure that if we both plead hard enough, Harry, lad, we shall in the end succeed in obtaining from them a promise to let me go at the very first opportunity.”

“Very well, Roger,” assented Harry; “this shall be the first action in which I will stand by you according to our pledge; and I will come with you and add my entreaties to yours that your people should let you go. But when do you intend to ask them, lad?”

“I am in Plymouth until the morrow after next,” said Roger; “and then I intend to take my boat, which I have left at Sutton Pool, and pull up the river back to Pentillie; and you will come with me, Harry, will you not?”

“Ay, lad, that will I; have I not promised you?” replied the latter. “But I must now go about my business, else shall I not be in time to accompany you according to my promise. So until the appointed time, when I will certainly meet you, farewell, lad! and have a care that that hare-brain of yours does not get you into some trouble, meanwhile; for I know what you are when you come into Plymouth on a holiday.”

“Never fear for me, Harry,” returned Roger; “I have now something in view of more importance than street brawls and such follies, and shall take care that I get into no trouble to prevent my joining you at Sutton Pool, as we agreed.”

With these words the two lads separated, Harry returning to his home to break the momentous news to his sister, and elicit her views concerning the proposed expedition, and Roger proceeding to the house of his uncle, a worthy mercer of the town, with whom he was staying during the holiday which he was at that time taking in Plymouth. Little did those two boys (for they were scarcely more) realise the momentous nature of the step that they had taken when they pledged one another on Plymouth Hoe! Could they but have foreseen the wild and terrible days, the awful sights, the hardships and privations, which lay before them, and through which they would have to pass ere they might return to their native country, it is highly probable that they would not have started on their expedition at all. Or, if they had done so, it would have been with far heavier hearts and more serious faces than they carried at the time when they made their compact to stand by one another “through fair and foul, through thick and thin”, as they phrased it, that morning on Plymouth Hoe.