Dominica’s tongue became loosened. She must tell Sir Nicholas of the curious fancy that had come to her when Don Diego offered her wine of Alicante, and when that was done she found she had left her shyness behind her.
The horses were saddled and ready. As Dominica set her foot in Beauvallet’s hand she looked saucily at Joshua, and said: “Now, Joshua, you shall see whether I can ride hard or no.”
She showed her mettle that day; she had done with fears and doubts. While she rode with Sir Nicholas at her side there could be nothing to alarm her. She had doubted that he would not reach Madrid, and he had done so; she had been sure that he could not escape from prison, and he had escaped; she had feared that he would not survive yesterday’s grim work, and here he was, safe and gay as ever. She could never again doubt his extraordinary faculty of coming off safe from seemingly hopeless traps.
There seemed to be no peril now. Joshua might sniff the air, and keep an ear cocked to the rearward, but Sir Nicholas, leading the way over the hills, was carefree and merry. So, too, would his lady be, then.
The long journey taxed her powers to the uttermost, but she would not admit her weariness. She sat as straight as she could, laughed at the bad road, swore she was very well content, and had no wish to rest her limbs. They lost the way; why, it was part of the adventure, and her Nicholas would soon find it again; her horse stumbled on a craggy mountainside and nearly came down with her: let them not worry, she was safe enough; the sun was scorchingly hot: why, she was used to a hot clime, and would take no hurt.
Joshua was moved to admiration. “With good leave,” he said, “I may remark that the señorita bears herself like an Englishwoman.”
“This is to praise you, child,” said Sir Nicholas, amused.
She nodded and laughed, and grew pink. “I shall very shortly be one, Señor Pirate, shall I not?” she said, and peeped at him.
His hand closed on hers. “My heart!”
They had to travel ’cross country where roads failed them, and this meant slow going for the most part, for the way was very rough, and they had need to study the rough plans Sir Nicholas had made. The shadows were lengthening long before they came within sight of the sea, and Joshua began to fret. He pushed up alongside to gain Beauvallet’s ear. “Master, we shall never make it in time,” he whispered.
Dominica caught the whisper. “Then let us press on,” she said. “We must have Señor Nicholas away tonight without fail.”
That made Beauvallet laugh, and even drew a smile from Joshua. This, however, he quickly suppressed. “The señorita speaks wisely,” he said. “Rare to junket about Spain singing catches as though we were at Alreston, but I would take leave to remind you, master, that you are a hunted man.”
“Oh, windbag,” said Sir Nicholas genially, “if I could make better way be sure I should. Broken knees won’t serve us. We shall make that port this night.”
Make it they did, but later than they had hoped for, losing their road in the darkness, and only finding it again after much casting about. Dominica swayed in the saddle, upheld whenever it was possible by a strong, tireless arm, but when she heard Joshua swearing amongst the boulders she could still laugh, though it was but a weary, would-be valiant little laugh.
They saw the lights of the tiny port ahead; Sir Nicholas snuffed the air. “I can smell the sea,” he said. “Courage, my bird!”
Her head drooped against his shoulder. He made a movement to summon up Joshua upon his other side.
“Walk warily now,” he said in a low voice. “If word was sent to the ports to stop our passage, those at Santander will know very well where to look for us.”
Joshua started. “God’s me, I had not thought of that! Ay, they would remember how you landed there.”
A drowsy voice spoke from Beauvallet’s shoulder. “Oh yes, they would never forget. We stayed with the Governor of Santander the day after you set us ashore, and I would you could have heard him.”
Sir Nicholas looked significantly at Joshua. Joshua stifled a groan, and shrugged. “A posse of soldiers, I dare swear. I might have guessed we were not yet out of the trap.” He looked up at the cloudy sky. “What o’clock? Nay, how shall we say? It but remains to find no ship awaiting. What, would she stay right through the night? One cannot suppose it. She will sniff the dawn at hand and be off.”
“Dawn, stock-fish?” said Sir Nicholas. “If it is past eleven you may call me a dolt.”
“I have a better regard for my skin, master,” said Joshua, with dignity.
They gave a wide berth to the cluster of cottages that formed the port, and pricked their way cautiously down the hill towards the sound of the sea lapping on the shingle. It was very dark, and the ground was strewed with rocks and hillocks and patches of stones. Sir Nicholas reined in his horse and turned in the saddle to speak to Joshua. “We make nothing by this. We shall do best to tether the nags and go on afoot.”
Joshua nodded and slid down from the saddle. Sir Nicholas was on the ground, and already lifting Dominica down. Her legs almost gave way under her; she staggered and caught at his hand. He would have lifted her in his arms, but she shook her head. “No, no, I would rather walk. I am only so stiff.”
They went forward, Joshua close behind them with the lantern he had bought that morning in Villanova. Somewhere below them the waves were breaking gently on the beach; the ground shelved steeply towards it. Sir Nicholas stopped. “Light the lantern, Joshua,” he said
