Later I spoke of my worries again to Captain Tempany.
"All we can do is what we can," I began, "and when we have done that it rests with God. I do not want you to risk a shelling of this boat by refusing a command to lay-to. If they take me, go on about your business. I'll find a way to come to America."
He shook his head. "Lad, lad! You do not know what you risk! I visited a friend in Newgate for debt. A foul and ugly place it is, and every privilege you get you pay for!"
Then we talked long of trade, of Indians and goods, of the buying and selling, for we had much planned.
"It is the new lands for you, my boy," said Captain Tempany, "and for my daughter, too, I hope."
Suddenly there was a dull boom. For a moment my heart seemed to stop.
"We had better go on deck," Tempany said. "I fear for you, lad."
We opened the door and stepped out on the deck, and at once we could see her, not two miles off, clearly visible ahead, a Queen's ship and a big one, holding a course that would take her across our bows.
Jeremy Ring came toward us. "She fired a warning gun, Cap'n, shall we heave-to?"
"We must, I fear."
Abigail came quickly to my side and took my hand. Her cheeks were pale, as mine must have been. We stood there, shoulder to shoulder, seeing the ship come down upon us.
"Forty-two guns," Ring said grimly. "We couldn't fight her, Cap'n."
"I'll fight no Queen's ship," he said.
A boat was already bobbing upon the waves, and Sakim stood amidships with a ladder. It seemed only a moment until the emissary was aboard. For such he was, I knew.
"I have orders to search you," he said. He was a handsome young man, obviously impressed by Abigail. "I hope I shall offer no inconvenience, but I must seize the man Barnabas Sackett, if he be aboard."
"I am aboard, Lieutenant," I said quietly, "and there is no need for a search."
"I must search," he said. "It is said there is treasure aboard."
He was thorough, I grant him that, and he gave us such a search as few ships have been subjected to, but he found no royal treasure.
At last I stood by the ladder. "Abby," I said, "Abby, I-"
"Go," she said, "but come to America when you can. I shall be waiting."
They stood about, Brian Tempany, Jeremy, Tom Watkins, Jublain, Pim, Sakim, and the others.
I looked around at their faces, spoke my thanks to them, and then went over the rail and down to the boat.
From the deck of the Queen's ship, I watched the other one sail away, her canvas drawing well.
"She's a fine craft," the lieutenant said, beside me.
"The best," I said, choking from the sadness in me. "They are good folk, loyal and strong."
"Come!" he took my arm. "You must go below. I regret the necessity but you must be held in irons for the Queen's officers."
"Wait," I pleaded, "let me see her out of sight."
He took his hand from my arm and left. And so I stood, alone upon the deck of the ship that would take me to prison, watching all that I loved sail away into the misty distance of a wind-blown sea.
Soon there was no topm'st to be seen, only the gray line where sea and sky met, and an emptiness in my heart.
They took me below then, and they clamped irons upon my wrists and ankles. They chained me to a bulkhead, and they left me there.
I was fed a little. I was given water. And I was visited by no one.
Chapter 7
Of Newgate prison I'd heard a great deal of talk, but it in no way prepared me for what it was. To a free man living in the fens, with fresh air to breathe and going about when he chose, where he chose, it was a frightful thing to be confined, and worse to be confined amid filth and the filthy.
No sooner was I brought into the prison than I was loaded with irons, shoved about, and abused. Then the prisoners came to me with demands for garnish, which I provided, having hidden money about me.
One lingered. He was a bold-faced rascal, a thief, he added, and occasionally a highwayman.
"You can have the irons off," he told me, "for a bit of something to the jailer, and for a bit more you can live well, but never let them think there's an end to what you have, for then you will be thrown into the worst hole they have and left to rot. There's no bit of human feeling in them. Many a man has died here."
His name was Hyatt. I found myself liking the man. I was in sore need of somebody with a knowing way about Newgate.
"It is Croppie you must see," he advised with a knowing wink. "Henry Croppie is the one, and he's a brute, mate, a bloody brute who'd kill you with his bare hands."
"I also have two hands," I said.
"Aye, but there's a sinister power in his, and delighted he is to put it to use on some poor soul. If he kills you it is no loss to him, but if you kill him it's Tyburn or Execution Dock."
A wicked gleam lit up his face. "It is said you know where there's treasure ... gold, mayhap, and gems. Is it true then?"
Now a man who has nothing is of no use to anyone, but if there is a chance of gain even the best of men are sometimes swayed, so I merely shrugged. "Let them believe what they want," I said. "I admit nothing, deny nothing."
With a bit of coin placed in the proper hand I had my irons removed, was changed to better quarters, and found choicer food available. It was not in my mind, however, to remain long where I was.
The questioning would begin. "It is like so," Hyatt said. "They will speak gently at first, try to get what they want without effort, and if they do not get it, they will bear down."
For a week I went about the prison, my nostrils repelled by the vile stench, yet taking in all that went on, and all who were about, for help may come from strange quarters and I was in no position to hold back from the roughest hand.
Men and women mixed together, some children ran about, all in the filthiest rags, faces and hands dirty, with the worst of criminals mingled with debtors and those thrown into gaol for heresy, which was an easy thing if one talked but loosely of Queen or Church.
One day I was called to a private room where two men sat. One was a slender man with a tight, cruel mouth and a tightly curled wig. He looked at me with an aloof and distant expression.
The other man was square and solid-looking, a man of the Army, I would have guessed, or perhaps the captain of a warship.
"You are Barnabas Sackett?" this one asked.
"I am, and a loyal yeoman of England," I added. "I am also an admirer of Her Majesty."
"There be many such," he replied shortly. "Now to the matter at hand. You have traded certain gold coins to Coveney Hasling and others?"
"I have."
"Where did you obtain these coins?"
Relating the events of the day on which I found such coins was simple, and then I followed by relating that once I knew antiquities might have value, I went to another place and found more.
"So quickly? So easily?"
"It was chance. One in a thousand, I suppose, although there are many places in England where old coins are found."
"Your home is in the fens?"
"It is."
"You live near the Wash?"
"Some distance from it, actually."
"But you know it? You've sailed on it?"
"Many times."
"You know the story of the loss of the royal treasure?"
For hours they questioned me. The man with the wig had a cold, fierce eye and there was not one whit of mercy in him, nor any belief in my story.
He turned at last. "Damn him for a liar, Swalley!" he said. "I told you this would do no good. I say the rack ... or a thumbscrew. He'll speak the truth fast enough. His kind have no belly for pain."
"How is yours?" I said roughly. "I think you have no stomach for it, either.
Have done with this. I have spoken the truth. If you do not care to believe, do what you will, for I have nothing else to tell you."