The Cruise of the Nonsuch Buccaneer | Page 6

she retained her youthful appearance to a degree that was a constant source of wonder to her many friends. Her form was still as girlish as when Hugh Saint Leger proudly led her to the altar twenty-eight years before we make her acquaintance. Her cheeks were still smooth and round, her violet eyes, deep and tender, were still bright despite the many tears which anxiety for her husband and sons had caused her to shed, and which her bitter grief had evoked when, some seven years earlier, the news had been brought to her of her husband's death while gallantly defending his ship against an attack by Salee pirates. Her golden-brown hair was still richly luxuriant, and only the most rigorous search would have revealed the presence of a silver thread here and there. And lastly, she stood just five feet four inches in her high-heeled shoes, and--in honour of her younger son's safe arrival home--was garbed, in the height of the prevailing mode, in a gown of brown velvet that exactly matched the colour of her hair, with long pointed bodice heavily embroidered with gold thread, voluminous farthingale, long puffed sleeves, ruffed lace collar, lace stomacher, and lace ruffles at her dainty wrists.
George Saint Leger, aged twenty, stood five feet ten inches in his stockings, though he did not look anything like that height, so broad were his shoulders and so robustly built was his frame. He had not yet nearly attained to his full growth, and promised, if he went on as he was going, to become a veritable giant some five or six years hence. He had his mother's eyes and hair--the latter growing in short soft ringlets all over his head--and he inherited a fair share also of his mother's beauty, although in his case it was tempered and made manly by a very square chin, firm, close-set lips, and a certain suggestion of sternness and even fierceness in the steady intent gaze of the eyes. He was garbed, like his captain, in doublet, trunk hose, and cap, but in George's case the garments were made of good serviceable cloth, dyed a deep indigo blue colour, and his cap--which he now held in his hand--was unadorned with either feather or brooch. Also, he wore no weapons of any kind save those with which nature had provided him.
"Egad! it is good to feel your arms round me, little mother, and to find myself in this dear old room again," exclaimed the lad as he gazed down into his mother's loving eyes. "And you--surely you must have discovered the whereabout of the fount of perpetual youth, for you do not look a day older than when I went away."
"Nonsense, silly boy," returned the delighted little lady as she freed herself from her stalwart son's embrace, "art going to celebrate thy return home by beginning to pay compliments to thy old mother? But, indeed," she continued more seriously, "'tis a wonder that I am not grey-headed, for the anxiety that I have suffered on thy account, George, and that of thy brother Hubert, has scarcely suffered me to know a moment's peace."
"Dear soul alive, I'll warrant that's true," agreed George. "But, mother, you need never be anxious about me, for there's not a better or stauncher ship afloat than the Bonaventure, nor one that carries a finer captain and crew. We've held our own in many a stiff bout with weather and the enemy, and can do it again, please God. And as for Hu, I think you need fear as little for him as for me, for with Hawkins as admiral, and Frankie Drake as second in command, with six good ships to back them up, they should be able to sweep the Spanish Main from end to end. It cannot now be very long before one gets news of them, and indeed, I confidently look forward to seeing them come sailing into Plymouth Sound ere long, loaded down with treasure."
"God grant that it may be so," responded Mrs Saint Leger. "Yet how can I help being fearful and anxious when I think of those daring men thousands of miles away from home and kindred, surrounded as it were by enemies, and with nought to keep them but their courage and the strength of their own right arm? And where there is fighting--as fighting there must be when English and Spaniards come face to face--some must be slain, and why not our Hubert among them? For the boy is hot-headed, and brave even to recklessness."
"Ay," assented George, "that's true. But 'tis the brave and reckless ones that stand the best chance in a fight, for their very courage doth but inspire the enemy with terror, so that he turns and flees from them. Besides, our lads are fighting