“That might arouse in him a determination to do me harm.”

“Tell him you will become a Catholic. You wish for tuition.”

“In fact,” I said, “betray my beliefs, go down on my knees and implore these dogs to treat us with respect. It would be of no avail, I assure you, Honey. If you had an Agnus Dei to hang about my neck I would not take it. I will see if I can lay my hands on some weapon. If I could find a knife I would at least put up a fight.”

“It would be useless.” She was staring into the gloom, her face strained with grief, and I knew she was thinking of Edward.

I was not sure how long we lay there in that cabin. I think I slept a little. I was exhausted by my emotions. I started up and wondered where I was. The swaying of the ship and the creaking of its timbers quickly reminded me.

I could just make out the figure of Honey beside me. The horned lantern was swaying from side to side, its light feeble; and the horror of our position dawned on me afresh.

I knew Honey was awake, but we did not speak. There was nothing of comfort that we could offer each other.

It might be morning; how could we know? There was nothing against which to measure time. My tongue was dry, my lips parched. I supposed I was hungry, but the thought of food revolted me.

We may have lain there for another hour or more when the door opened.

We started up in terror. It was a man carrying bowls of something which looked like soup.

He said: “Olla podrida,” and pointed to the bowls…

I wanted to take them and throw them in his face, but Honey said: “Food. We’ll feel better when we’ve eaten. We’ll feel able to face whatever we have to.” I knew she was thinking of her unborn child.

We took the bowls. The food smelled good. The man nodded and left us. Honey was already drinking the concoction. Her appetite had increased since she had become pregnant. She used to say it was her hungry baby demanding to be fed.

I tried it too. It was savory and warming and I found I was glad of it.

We set down the bowls and waited apprehensively. It was not long before we had another visitor. This was the man I had heard addressed as Capitàn.

He came into the room and stood at the door, looking at us. There was a dignity about him, a courtliness which aroused my optimism.

He said in halting English: “I am the Captain of this vessel. I have come to speak with you.”

I said: “You had better tell us quickly what this means.”

“You are on board my ship,” he said. “I am taking you on a voyage.”

“For what purpose?” I asked.

“That you will discover.”

“You have abducted us from our homes!” I cried. “We are gentlewomen unaccustomed to rough treatment. We…”

Honey laid a restraining hand on my arm. The Captain noticed and nodded approvingly.

“It is no use to protest against what is done,” he said.

“Nevertheless, I protest. You have done a wicked thing.”

“I have not come to speak of such things or to waste my time. I come to tell you that I am obeying orders.”

“Whose orders?”

“Those of one who commands me.”

“And who, pray?”

Again Honey restrained me. “Listen, Catharine,” she said.

“You are wise,” said the Captain. “I am sorry you were taken. That should not have been.” He was looking straight at Honey. “A mistake, you understand.”

“If you tell us what this means we shall be grateful,” said Honey humbly.

“I can tell you that if you are wise no harm will befall you on this ship. There are sailors here who have been at sea many months … you understand. They could be rough. So you must take care. I would not have you submitted to indignity on my ship. That would be against my wishes and those of one who commands me.”

I said: “There was another taken with us. Jennet, my maid. What has become of her?”

“I will discover,” he promised me. “I will do my best to ensure your comfort … all of you.”

I was intrigued by him. His gaze kept straying to Honey in a manner which was familiar to me. With her hair hanging about her shoulders she could not fail to look beautiful; she looked vulnerable too; all men were seized with the desire to protect her. I suppose that applied even to Spanish Captains of pirate ships.

“You are uncomfortable here,” he said. “I would talk with you in more suitable surroundings. Come with me and we will eat. You have had a little food, I believe.”

Honey and I exchanged glances. The manner in which the Captain had spoken to us had brought us a little comfort. He was no rough sailor, that much was clear; and he was treating us as though we were guests on his ship, which was reassuring.

The smell of grease and cooking was strong in the alleyway. The ship lurched so that we had to cling to a rail which ran from one end of the alley to the other. We stumbled after the Captain as best we could and he opened a door and stood aside for us to enter.

This was his cabin. It was spacious and the bulkheads were paneled. It was like a small room. There were books and instruments everywhere. Dominating the cabin was the long wooden table which was bolted to the floor; I noticed also a piece of ordnance which was mounted on a carriage and pointed out through a gunport. A tapestry hung on the paneling. I was later to discover that it represented the surrender of Granada to Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand.

At that first view I was astonished that there could be so much comfort on a ship.

“Pray be seated,” said the Captain. “I will order food.”

We sat down and a barefooted sailor came in and prepared the table. It was not long before steaming plates of something like beans and salted meat was brought in.

The Captain held the chairs for us as we sat down.

“You do not perhaps feel hungry,” he said, “but it is well to eat a little.”

“Can you tell me why you struck down my husband?” asked Honey.

“I cannot tell you. I did not leave the ship.”

“You knew others had come to take us away?”

“It was the purpose of our mission.”

“To raid our coasts to take women …” I began.

“No,” he said. “To take you. You will understand in due course.”

Honey spoke gently then: “And you will understand that we are bewildered. We want to know what this means. We fear you have brought us here to…”

He smiled at her courteously. “No harm shall come to you on my ship if you obey my orders. I have issued a command that no one is to touch you.” He was looking at me. Then he turned to Honey. “I will command the same immunity for you.”

“She has already been attacked,” I said.

“I trust…”

Honey touched the Agnus Dei. “This saved me,” she said. “This and John Gregory.”

“Any man who dares touch either of you will pay for it with his life,” said the Captain.

“Then I demand to know for what purpose we have been brought here,” I said.

“This is something you will know in time.”

“You have snatched us from our homes,” I began, but again Honey restrained me.

“For Heaven’s sake, Catharine, let us discover all we can. The Captain is anxious to help us.” Pregnancy had brought a serenity to Honey which in the circumstances seemed unnatural. She was thinking of her baby and playing for time.

He gave her a grave smile.

“It is my duty to see that you shall not be harmed. I shall do my duty. But I ask your help. You will not go where I do not wish you to. You will never go unescorted. The man Gregory will be with you. Do not go on deck without him. The men will have been warned, but it is not always possible to control them, and although they know they risk their lives there may be some wild enough to thrust their attentions on you.”

“Where are we going?”

“I cannot tell you. It is not a long voyage. You will understand when you reach our destination. There you will learn the purpose of your coming. If you are wise you will forget what has happened and look forward. As far as this ship is concerned I offer my protection and any comforts I can give you. The ship resembles a castle, some say—a floating castle—but it is not a castle, you must understand. We are at sea and life at sea is not like that on land. There are luxuries we cannot have. Nevertheless, I would wish you to be as comfortable as I can make you. Clothes, for instance. You have come ill prepared for a journey. I must find some cloth for you. Perhaps you can make it into gowns. You will eat in this cabin—sometimes with me, sometimes alone. My advice is that you accept what has befallen you—accept with serenity and understanding that on this ship if you follow my instructions no harm can come to you.”

He applied himself to the meat and beans on his plate. I could not eat much, nor could Honey.

I could not believe that this was really happening to me. I would wake up soon, I promised myself, the Spanish galleon would become the Rampant Lion, the Captain change to Jake Pennlyon and it would be just another dream of which I had had several, about that domineering character.

But this dream—this nightmare—went on and on and it was reality that had faded.

Very soon after Honey became violently ill. It was small wonder. We were unused to the roll of a ship; we were exhausted mentally and physically; we were bewildered and uncertain of what was happening to us. And Honey was pregnant.

I looked after her and that was a good thing to do because it made me forget everything but that I feared she would die.

John Gregory was never far away. How I hated that man who had slyly come to our house, posing as a priest, and who had led our captors to the house and to us. A spy! A traitor! What could be worse? But he was now our protector. I could not bring myself to look at him without expressing my contempt. But he was useful.

I said to him: “I fear you are killing my sister. You know the state of her health; this shock has been too much for her, as indeed was to be expected. I should have believed those who had been befriended by us would never have betrayed us, but I was mistaken. We had liars and traitors in our midst.” When I berated him he would stand before me, his eyes downcast, contrition in every gesture. Honey always tried to stop me, but I couldn’t stop myself and there was some relief in giving vent to my feelings.

On the second day when Honey was so sick and I feared for her life I said to John Gregory, “I need our maid here. She must help me nurse my sister.”

He said he would speak to the Captain and very soon Jennet joined us.

She looked much the same. Is it possible, I asked myself, that she could adjust herself so soon?

She was in an old gown which she had snatched up before she was taken; and already she was regaining that complete placidity which was a feature of hers.

The sight of her face irritated me once I had felt the relief that she was alive and well. She looked as though she were satisfied with her lot. How could she be? And what had happened to her?

I said: “The mistress is very sick. You must help with her, Jennet.”

“Oh, poor lady,” she said. “And in her condition.”

Honey’s pregnancy was visible now. I thought anxiously of the child and I fervently wished that we had both gone home to my mother the day after Jake Pennlyon had sailed.

Honey seemed comforted because the three of us were together, and Jennet was undoubtedly a good nurse. There were rough stools on which we could sit and we were beginning to grow accustomed to the roll of the ship and the smell of cooking. Honey slept a great deal during those first days, which was a good thing for her; and Jennet and I talked together as we watched over her.

I learned that Jennet had been seen by one of the men who had raided the house. He was strong and lithe and had come upon Jennet on her way to my room. He had seized her and spoken to her, but she could not understand what he had said. He had picked her up and carried her under his arm as though she were a bundle of hay.

Jennet giggled and I knew what had followed on the ship.

“Just him,” said Jennet. “There were others that wanted me, but he brought out a knife. And although I couldn’t understand what he said, I knew he meant I was his and he’d use that knife on anyone that touched me.”

She cast down her eyes and blushed and I wondered that she so wanton—for it was clear that she was not displeased with her state—could appear so coy, for she was not assuming modesty; she was too simple for that.