THE ADMIRABLE LADY BIDDY FANE:

HER SURPRISING CURIOUS ADVENTURES IN STRANGE PARTS & HAPPY DELIVERANCE FROM PIRATES, BATTLE, CAPTIVITY, & OTHER TERRORS; TOGETHER WITH DIVERS ROMANTIC & MOVING ACCIDENTS AS SET FORTH BY BENET PENGILLY (HER COMPANION IN MISFORTUNE & JOY), & NOW FIRST DONE INTO PRINT

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. I AM TAKEN OUT OF THE PILLORY AND NARROWLY ESCAPE GOING TO THE WHIPPING-POST. CHAPTER II. I AM TAKEN AGAIN BY JACK GEDDES AND OTHERS, AND RESCUED BY RODRIGUES. CHAPTER III. BY A CUNNING STRATAGEM I AM GOT OUT OF JACK GEDDES' HANDS, AND BROUGHT ABOARD THE "SURE HAWK." CHAPTER IV. I COME TO THE CANARIES IN BETTER PLIGHT THAN I STARTED. CHAPTER V. TO MY MORTAL PERIL I OVERHEAR A SORDID SCHEME OF RODRIGUES AND NED PARSONS. CHAPTER VI. I AM NEARLY UNDONE BY MY SHADOW.—NED PARSONS AND RODRIGUES, THEIR ARGUMENT, WITH THE COMPACT THAT FOLLOWED. CHAPTER VII. THE PERPLEXITY OF BEING NEITHER THOROUGH-FACED ROGUE, ARRANT FOOL, NOR HONEST MAN. CHAPTER VIII. WE ARE OVERCOME, AND WITH BARBAROUS TREATMENT SET ASHORE AND LEFT THERE. CHAPTER IX. WE FIND OURSELVES ON A DESERT ISLAND, AND LITTLE COMFORT BESIDES. CHAPTER X. I QUIT THE ISLAND AND MY FRIEND. CHAPTER XI. I AM EXCELLENTLY SERVED BY MY FAMOUS INVENTION, AND COME TO ENGLAND NOT MUCH THE WORSE FOR IT. CHAPTER XII. LADY BIDDY GIVES ME A WORD OF COMFORT. CHAPTER XIII. THE CROSSED HEART.

CHAPTER XIV. WE ARE DOGGED BY A BLACK SHIP, TO THE GREAT DISCOMFORT OF OUR COMPANIES. CHAPTER XV. WE FALL INTO SORE DISASTERS OF RAGING TEMPEST AND BLOODY BATTLE. CHAPTER XVI. THE BATTLE ENDED TO OUR COMPLETE DISCOMFITURE. CHAPTER XVII. I AM SHOT OUT OF ONE SHIP AND CRAWL INTO ANOTHER, WITH WHAT ADVANTAGE MAY YET BE SEEN. CHAPTER XVIII. GREATLY PUT TO IT TO KNOW WHAT TO DO, I DO NOTHING. CHAPTER XIX. I MAKE MYSELF KNOWN TO LADY BIDDY, WITH DIVERS OTHER MATTERS. CHAPTER XX. BY GOOD HAP I DISCOVER A FRESH PIECE OF VILLAINY. CHAPTER XXI. I MAKE A VOW TO SLAY MY LADY BIDDY, IF NEEDS BE. CHAPTER XXII. I RECKON TO HAVE MADE ONE ENEMY THE LESS, BUT DO FIND MYSELF MISTAKEN GRIEVOUSLY. CHAPTER XXIII. HOW RODRIGUES GOT AT THE TRUTH, AND A LIE INTO THE BARGAIN. CHAPTER XXIV. LADY BIDDY SORELY PUT TO IT WHETHER TO TELL THE TRUTH OR HOLD HER TONGUE. CHAPTER XXV. LADY BIDDY IS SET ASHORE, BUT LITTLE MERCY THEREIN. CHAPTER XXVI. HOW I GOT AWAY FROM THE VILE PIRATE AND SETTLED TONGA HIS BUSINESS. CHAPTER XXVII. OF OUR FURTHER ESCAPES, AND A STRATAGEM BY WHICH OUR ENEMIES WERE PUT TO

GREAT DISCOMFORT. CHAPTER XXVIII. BY MY ARRANT FOLLY I LOSE MY DEAR LADY BIDDY. CHAPTER XXIX. I FIND MY LADY BIDDY, AND WE DESPOIL OUR ENEMIES; WITH OTHER FACETIOUS MATTER. CHAPTER XXX. I FIND MYSELF IN THE PARADISE OF FOOLS. CHAPTER XXXI. WE THINK THE WORST OF OUR TROUBLES ARE OVER; BUT THEY ARE NOT. CHAPTER XXXII. WE ARE ENCOMPASSED WITH BLACKAMOORS, TO OUR GREAT PERIL. CHAPTER XXXIII. WE ARE LIKE TO BE CRUSHED UNDER A HUGE ROCK. CHAPTER XXXIV. IN WHICH PROVIDENCE, NOT TO BE ALWAYS SCOURGING OF US, PROVIDES US WITH GOOD ENTERTAINMENT. CHAPTER XXXV. A SPEEDY END IS BROUGHT TO OUR CIVIL ENTERTAINMENT. CHAPTER XXXVI. WE SET OUT FOR THE INTERIOR, AND I FALL INTO MY JEALOUS HUMOR ONCE MORE. CHAPTER XXXVII. AN EXPLANATION OF THAT CRY I HEARD IN THE NIGHT, WITH OTHER PERTINENT MATTER. CHAPTER XXXVIII. I AM OVERCOME AND CLAPPED UP IN ONE OF THOSE STRONG TOWERS. CHAPTER XXXIX. HOW I WAS LED ON BY PASSION TO CUT A MAN'S THROAT. CHAPTER XL. I FIND AN EXCELLENT FRIEND IN PLACE OF A CRUEL ENEMY. CHAPTER XLI. A DISCOURSE WITH MY NEW-FOUND FRIEND MATTHEW PENNYFARDEN.

CHAPTER XLII. WE ARE PURSUED BY DOGS AND PORTUGALS. CHAPTER XLIII. WE LAY OUR HEADS TOGETHER CONCERNING WHAT IS BEST TO BE DONE. CHAPTER XLIV. IN WHICH MATTHEW PLAYS THE BEGGAR AND I THE FOOL. CHAPTER XLV. WE GO FROM VALETTA TO SEEK MY LADY BIDDY ELSEWHERE. CHAPTER XLVI. HOW WE CAME TO THAT PLACE WHICH I CALL THE VALLEY OF DEATH. CHAPTER XLVII. WE GO DOWN INTO THAT VALLEY OF DEATH. CHAPTER XLVIII. A GREAT CHANGE IN OUR FORTUNE, WHEREBY I HEAR THE MOST JOYFUL, PLEASING NEWS HEART COULD DESIRE. CHAPTER XLIX. MY LADY BIDDY AND I MEET AGAIN, TO OUR JOYFUL CONTENTMENT. CHAPTER L. WE TAKE COUNSEL OF THE INGAS AS TO OUR FUTURE, ETC. CHAPTER LI. MATTHEW AND I CONTINUE THE DISCUSSION, BUT WITH SMALL PROFIT. CHAPTER LII. MATTHEW LAYS OUT A SCHEME FOR STAYING FIVE YEARS IN THE WILDERNESS. CHAPTER LIII. MY CONSCIENCE GETS THE BETTER OF DESIRE, AND A BIRD BRINGS GREAT JOY TO MY DEAR LADY. CHAPTER LIV. WE PART COMPANY WITH OUR RIGHT GOOD FRIEND PENNYFARDEN, TO OUR COMMON SORROW. CHAPTER LV. WE GO DOWN THE META, MY DEAR LADY AND I—THE PLEASANTEST JAUNT HEART OF MAN COULD DESIRE.

CHAPTER LVI. I AM PUT TO GREAT CONCERN ON ACCOUNT OF A PORTUGAL, WHICH PRESENTLY TAKES THE PRETTIEST TURN IMAGINABLE. CHAPTER LVII. THE RAINY SEASON SETS IN WITH A VENGEANCE, AND WE ARE PUT TO SORRY SHIFT TO KEEP FROM DROWNING. CHAPTER LVIII. WE FIND A HAVEN OF REST IN A WONDROUS LAKE; BUT ARE NIGH BEING SUCKED INTO A WHIRLPOOL. CHAPTER LIX. THE RAINY SEASON COMES TO AN END, BUT BY MY DELAY WE ARE BALKED OF RETURNING INTO THE BARAQUAN. CHAPTER LX. WE TRY ANOTHER MEANS OF ESCAPE, WHEREBY WE ARE AS NEARLY UNDONE AS MAY BE. CHAPTER LXI. I FALL INTO A DISMAL SICKNESS, AND RECOVER THEREOF. CHAPTER LXII. I AM PUT TO GREAT TORMENT BY MY PASSION. CHAPTER LXIII. WE ENTER INTO A CAVERN, THE LIKE OF WHICH NO MAN HAS EVER YET TOLD OF. CHAPTER LXIV. HOW (AMONG OTHER MATTERS), IN SEEKING TO KILL A SNAPPING BOAR, WE FALL UPON AN OLD FRIEND. CHAPTER LXV. WE COME AT LENGTH TO THE MOUTH OF THE ORONOQUE, BUT WITH DISMAL FOREBODINGS. CHAPTER LXVI. TOUCHING THOSE INCIDENTS THAT HAD HAPPENED TO SIR BARTLEMY AS HE LAY AT THE MOUTH OF THE ORONOQUE.

CHAPTER LXVII. LADY BIDDY BREAKS HER TROTH, AND WE HEAR FALMOUTH BELLS AGAIN.

CHAPTER I.

I AM TAKEN OUT OF THE PILLORY AND NARROWLY ESCAPE GOING TO THE WHIPPING-POST.

As 'tis the present mode to embellish a history with a portrait of the writer, it will not be amiss if I here at the outset give you some hints by which you may see, as in a frontispiece, the image of that Benet Pengilly who is about to tell you many marvelous things.

What kind of man I am you may better judge when you come to the last page of this history; my business now is to present my image as I was; to which end I would have you picture a man close upon thirty years of age, clad in a jerkin and breeches of leather, six foot and some odd inches in height, gaunt and lean as a famished wolf, fierce visaged, with an unkempt beard of hair, and a shock ragged as a bush, and both as black as any ink; a deep-sunk, bloodshot eye, and a swarthy skin, all besmirched with broken egg, filth and blood. This pretty portraiture you shall frame in the town pillory, which stood over against the church of St. Mary, in the city of Truro, with this very true description writ under the headpiece:

And now to begin my story, I must tell you that I had stood in this pillory from sunrise, a sport for all the cowards in the town. I say cowards, for surely those who have courage are never cruel to the helpless, and these—the strongest of whom would have fled before me had I been free—had baited me as curs bait a tethered bull, without any kind of mercy, jeering at me, and making me a mark for any beastliness that came to hand, ay, and sharp stones to boot, as the blood from my lips and cheek testified.

There were never less than a couple of score of this rabble about me, hallooing and whooping; for as fast as one left me to go about his business, another took his place. But amongst the constantly changing crowd was one who, seated upon the stone bench where the town porters are wont to rest their loads awhile, never took his eyes off me, nor budged from his place from the time he came hither, which was about ten o'clock, till now, when the sun was past the meridian. He watched me as a surgeon marks the bearing of his subject under the knife; nay, rather 'twas as a fiend might watch the torment of the damned, for a hellish smile crept over his face as some insult more cruel than the rest provoked me to a state of desperation.

This man I had seen before. His name was Rodrigues. 'Twas he who, in the month of March, came into Plymouth, his ship all decked out with ribbons, his crew arrayed in lace and cambric, and every mother's son as drunk as a beggar; 'twas he who had set tubs of sherries on the Hoe, staved in the heads, and in sheer wantonness and drunken folly cast the wine right and left with his joined palms; to say nothing of divers other senseless tricks whereby in something less than two months he had squandered treasure to the value of nigh upon £7000 and left not enough, when his ship was seized, to pay the King's dues. He still wore the remnants and wreck of his former finery—silk stockings, satin trunks, velvet doublet, and a hat with a feather in it; but, lord! so broken, stained, and bedrabbled through his mad frolics that plain homespun had looked rich beside it.

I have heard that this Rodrigues was of gipsy origin, and indeed he looked fierce and brutal enough for that or anything else. He had a short, curling beard. His hair grew low down on his brows, and fell behind his ears in long, wiry ringlets. His eyes were small, but remarkably piercing, and the aspect of his face was very eager and cruel; but that which made his looks most terrible was his teeth, which were pointed sharp, like a wolf's, so that when he displayed them he looked more like a beast of prey than a natural man. This peculiarity, however, was not due to his birth, but was rather brought about, as I learned, through living many years a captive among cannibal savages, whose practice it is to file their teeth after this fashion. In addition to this disfigurement his ears were slit, and he had a long white scar quartered down his tawny cheek; in short, he was as ill-looking and horrid a scoundrel as ever I did see.

'Twas, as I say, high noon, and matters stood thus, when, of a sudden, the clamor of my persecutors was stilled as by enchantment, and the sound of horse with the jingling of harness struck on my ear; and, casting my eye in that direction, I perceived a company of ladies and gentlemen with their servants, all very richly mounted, drawing hither. I took not much heed of them to discern who they were, being callous sick with the pain and insult I had suffered so many hours, until they drew near within a stone's cast to see what sport was forward, when Rodrigues jumping down from his stone bench, and making them a mighty respectful obeisance of his battered hat with its broken feather, my curiosity was pricked, and I once more looked that way. Then my heart sank lower than ever, and I would have been thankful had my face been beat out of all recognition; for foremost among the company was Lady Biddy Fane, and 'twas clear by the anger in her face that she recognized me. Yet, the next moment was I glad, and my heart was lifted up with a

savage exultation; for now, thinks I, she will see to what degradation and ruin hath she brought a man of promise by her cruelty.

I do not think there ever was in the whole world a young woman so beautiful as Lady Biddy Fane; nor is there like to be again. Had I not thought so, should I have abandoned myself to despair because of her cruelty? Nay, nor should I have had this history to tell. And yet may there be women as straight and fairly proportioned as she, though none more so; and others with a skin of that rare pale clearness; and others, again, with eyes as large and dark and spirited, with sweet lips lined with snowy teeth, with a perfect nose (shapely as any Greek's) and wavy, nut-brown hair; still, I say, you shall not find another one woman in whom are combined the graces of so many together, with a spirit so lofty, noble, fearless, and faithful as hers. I might discourse of her beauty for many pages, and yet fail, for want of words, to do her justice; but to make an end of this matter briefly, I say, again, she was incomparable.

On her right hand was my uncle, Sir Bartlemy Pengilly, Knight, the same who adventured with Sir Walter Raleigh in the quest for gold upon the Oronoque; and a hale, lusty old man he was, very personable, with shining white hair curled closely over his head, and a well-clipped beard; on her left hand was Sir Harry Smidmore, a young man of good parts, as I must acknowledge, albeit I hated him exceedingly, by reason of his standing in better grace with Lady Biddy Fane than any other of her suitors, and they were as numerous as butterflies over a fair garden on a summer's day. Besides these three were many friends of theirs of very good condition; but they enter not into this history, so enough is said of them.

Now, the rabble, thinking this company was drawn up for amusement, presently began to make sport of me; and one caught up a dead cat, which had served before, and flung it at me, and another a cabbage stump, which had likewise served; and a third, finding nothing handier than a broken pantile, was about to cast that, when Sir Harry Smidmore, with the flat of his sword, fetched him a clap on the arm that made him think better of it. Then Lady Biddy, with scorn and disgust on her countenance, turned away, and the whole company followed her thence, whispering together, and all very grave; for it was known that I was Sir Bartlemy's nephew, and a kinsman of Lady Biddy's, and that I had disgraced them before their friends.

After them went Rodrigues also, at a brisk pace to keep up with the horse. They had not been gone long when there came two of the sheriff's men with a cord to loose me, whereupon, seeing that I was about to be taken from the pillory, the whole rout that were in the square took to their heels as though a tiger were about to be let loose on them; for I was a man of terror for many miles about, and was known as "Ben of the Woods."

The sheriff's men first freed my hands from the boards, and, making fast my arms about me with their cord, they unlocked the headpiece, and then, having given me a draught from a pitcher, for I reeled like one in liquor being taken down, they led me up the High Street to the Dolphin Inn, and so into the great room there, where at a table sat the justice who had condemned me to the pillory, with Sir Bartlemy Pengilly, Sir Harry Smidmore, and some others; and against the wall in the shadow I spied Rodrigues.

Being brought to the end of the table facing this company, the justice made me a discourse, and the gist of his matter was that, out of respect for Sir Bartlemy, he had taken me from the pillory before my time, and would absolve me from further punishment if I would give my word to be of better conduct henceforth and agree to the proposal Sir Bartlemy was about to make.

Then Sir Bartlemy, pushing aside the bottle that stood before him, leaned forward and addressed me thus:

"Ben," says he, "I am heartily ashamed of you, and with the greater reason because you are not ashamed of yourself. Look at me, rogue! Do you see that my eyes are full of tears? 'Tis for shame that you are my nephew that I weep, and not for pity, for I do assure you, sir" (turning to the justice), "I loved this fellow, and not so long since neither; a brave-looking and comely man he was but a year ago; of good parts and great promise, whom I had been proud to call my son; and a brave man he should be by reason that his father endured manfully much hardship in adventuring under Sir Francis Drake, and died beside Sir Richard Grenville fighting those fifteen great galleons of the Spaniard. But what a base, desperate rascal are you" (turning again to me in anger) "to abandon yourself to despair, to yield up everything without a struggle and at the first shot of adversity, bringing dishonor upon your family thus! Had you but yourself to think of, vagabond? Had your father thought only of his own comfort, would he willingly have endured

hardship and privation, or sought to face the Spanish guns? 'Twas the honor and glory of his queen he thought of before all; and had you truly loved your cousin, you would have set up her happiness before your own, and done naught to make her blush for so base a subject."

"Ay, surely!" cries the justice, frowning upon me.

"Yet must we not be too hard on the fellow, neither," says Sir Bartlemy, turning again to him; "for 'tis not as if he had forsaken a life of pain for one of pleasure, but quite the contrary; for he was light-hearted and gay before this cruel stroke; and now what creature on the face of this smiling world is more deplorable? And, truly, for a man to abandon himself to a life of such desolation and misery as he passes in the woods, his mind must be unstrung, and all its music turned to discord; and there is naught, I hear, like disappointment in love to unsettle the reason, though nothing of the sort has ever troubled mine; for if one lass frowned I'd quickly find another who'd smile; and I warrant," says he, merrily, with a sly dig at the stout old justice—"I warrant you have often done the same, Master Anthony."

"Let us go to the point, Sir Bartlemy—to the point," said the justice, severely.

"That will I with no more ado. Look you, rascal," says my uncle, thumping the table and bending his brows on me, "you have done little that I should love you, and much to undo the love I bore you; yet will I make an effort to save you from disgrace for your father's sake—and something for your own—for, God knows, you are a wretch as much to be pitied as hated; so here to the point. I am bent upon getting that treasure which lies, as we know full well, beyond the Oronoque, in order that it fall not into the hands of the Spaniard. 'Tis too late for me to make this venture under my own command, though I fain would; but a worthy commander have I found, and under him you shall take service as his lieutenant and second in command, and share the profits of this enterprise in due proportion."

"Wait!" cries the justice; "here surely is a mistake! You cannot intend to place this fellow taken from the pillory next in position to your commander!"

"He is my brother's son," replies Sir Bartlemy, "and I have faith that he will bear himself well when this present distemper of mind shall be blown off by the wholesome sea gales; for the rest, this matter concerns the crew of the ship and the commander. If they are willing, should I object?"

"But are they willing?" asks the justice. "There is the point."

"Here is the ablest man of the crew—one who has sailed with Drake, gone through many perilous adventures, and been himself a master. Hear what he says. Speak up, Rodrigues."

Rodrigues came out of the shadow, and, pointing his finger at me, says he: "That man is worth any ten men of our crew, and such a man a crew needs for master. We want no puppets, but men who can fight and suffer with stiff lips." Then he dropped back into the shadow again.

I was grateful to this man. Hope—that so long had lain dead within me—sprang up to life, and an eager desire for wild adventure seized upon me. And at that moment the door at the end of the room over against the head of the table opened, and Lady Biddy Fane came into the room; then my imagination, already kindled, blazed up with a mad conception of winning untold gold, glory, and honor—all to lay at her feet, with the possibility that she might accept them and me.

But, lord! there was little in her aspect to encourage such a hope, as she stood there erect and scornful, her pretty brows bent in angry scorn as she looked on me, tapping her silk skirt impatiently with her riding-whip. But this did not daunt my spirit, for I knew how sweet those brows were when they unbent, and that her dainty hand was more apt to caress than to strike.

While my heart was aflame with this sudden return of passion, the justice spoke:

"What says the commander? There the point is, I take it."

"Speak up, Sir Harry," says Sir Bartlemy.

"I will have him for my lieutenant as willingly as I would make him my friend," says Sir Harry Smidmore.