To The Far Blue Mountains by Louis L’Amour

entirely safe until we set foot on American land.

“My place is with you, Barnabas. Do you think it is only men who wish to see new

land? I, too, want to see those shores again. I, too, want to see what is beyond

them.”

I was silent, for I knew what she said was true, and I did not want to persuade

her otherwise. In that I was selfish. I wanted her with me always.

“It’s no land for a gentle, lovely woman,” I protested feebly.

She looked at me, laughing. “Barnabas, when I was not yet fourteen and off the

coast of India, I used a pistol repelling boarders off my father’s ship.”

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.

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

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