"For if a man shall strike him dead,His blood shall be on the striker's head,And while ever he draws his breath,His days shall be a fearful death;And after death to hell he'll go,With pain and everlasting woe."
"For if a man shall strike him dead,His blood shall be on the striker's head,And while ever he draws his breath,His days shall be a fearful death;And after death to hell he'll go,With pain and everlasting woe."
"For if a man shall strike him dead,
His blood shall be on the striker's head,
And while ever he draws his breath,
His days shall be a fearful death;
And after death to hell he'll go,
With pain and everlasting woe."
"An' so, you zee," said Cap'n Jack, "I do'ant want no violence weth 'ee, being a merciful and religious man."
Now I must confess that I was in sore straits what to do; for be it remembered all my plans seemed poor and almost worthless, and at the same time I loathed the thought of accepting Cap'n Jack's offer. Had I been sure I should have to do nothing but help in the smuggling I would not have minded so much, for it is well known that smuggling is not regarded by many as wrong, even the parsons at St. Mawes, and Tresillian, and Mopus having bought smuggled goods. Besides, I knew that many had gained wealth in this way, and were thought none the worse of for doing it. But Cap'n Jack was known to be worse than a smuggler, and almost desperate as I was this hindered me. For I remembered that in spite of everything I was still a Pennington, and I thought of what Naomi Penryn would think of me.
"Besides," went on Cap'n Jack, "you needn't 'ave nothin' to do with this part of the country. I do a biggish traade down the coast, Jasper, my deear. Ther's Kynance, now, or a cove over by Logan Rock, and another by Gurnard's Head. Nobody 'ere need to knaw where you be."
"Let me have time!" I stammered.
"To be sure, Jasper, my deear," wheedled Cap'n Jack; "then it's settled. You shall come to my plaace at Kynance this very night, you shall. The boys 'll soon be 'ere now. A special cargo, Jasper, 'nough to make yer lips water. Things I bot from a Injun marchant, my deear—cheap. And this es a clain off plaace to put et for a vew days."
"Are you sure it's safe here, Cap'n Jack?" I said,for already I began to be interested in the smuggler's plans.
"Saafe, who do knaw about this plaace?"
"Betsey Fraddam and Eli."
"Iss, for sure—I knaw they do, elseyouwudden a knawed. But who besides?"
"Do you think Ikey Trethewy hasn't found out, living where he has lived all these years?"
"Ikey! Iss, Ikey do knaw. Aw, aw!"
I saw his meaning, and suspected then what I afterward found to be true. Cap'n Jack's business was very extensive, and he employed people up and down the coast on both sides of the county. Moreover, several pedlars who carried jewelry, laces, and fine silks, obtained their supplies from Cap'n Jack.
"The Preventive men are busy watching you," I said.
"The Preventive men, aw, my deear. Iss, they be watchin', but how do you knaw?"
I told him what I had heard between them and Richard Tresidder.
"Iss, iss," said Cap'n Jack, with a grunt of satisfaction; "tha's all right, and they'll never vind out, no, they'll never vind out, and now you've zaid oal, my booy?"
"No, I haven't; there's another who knows."
"Who?"
He looked at me in such a way, that before I had time to think his white eyes seemed to drag the words from me.
"Miss Naomi Penryn," I said.
Never did I see such a change in any one. He no longer had the appearance of a mild and inoffensive man. The look of harmless indecision was gone, andall his pious sentiments were flung to the wind. He burst out with a string of oaths such as I had never heard before, and which made my flesh creep.
"Tell me all you know of this, Jasper Pennington," he said, presently, "everything."
I could not disobey him at that time, and I told him what I have written here, save but for the story of my love—that I kept in my own heart.
"She came in here to keep you from bein' found, did she?"
"Yes."
Then he became a little mild-mannered man again. He had grasped the situation in a minute, and he had seen more than had come into my mind. He commenced smoking again and continued for a few minutes, then he started up suddenly.
"Sam, Bill, sonnies, come in there."
Instantly the two men entered.
"They're comin', be'ant 'em?"
"Iss, Cap'n."
A few seconds later I heard the sound of voices, and presently I knew that several men were entering the cave.
"All safe, sonnies?" asked Cap'n Jack.
"Iss, Cap'n."
"Ah, Providence es very good. It's a vallyable cargo ef I did buy et cheap."
The men laughed.
A number of bales of goods were brought into the inner cave, but I could not discover what they were. I could see that the men were eyeing me keenly, and I thought unpleasantly; but no word was spoken until the cargo was unloaded, and safely stowed away.
"Nobody seed, I spoase."
"A dark night, Cap'n. No moon, no stars."
"Ah, Providence es very good, sonnies," repeated Cap'n Jack, then, turning to me, he said, "You'll be wantin' to know who this es?"
There was an expression of assent.
"Some ov 'ee do knaw un, I reckon. Ah, Ikey Trethewy, I see you do, and so do you, Zacky Bunny. This, sonnies, is Maaster Jasper Pennington. You've 'eerd me spaik about un. Well, 'ee's a-goin' to jine us, laistways, 'ee's a-goin' to Kynance to-night jist to zee, ya knaw. There, you'd better be off, 'cipt Ikey Trethewy. He's near 'ome, 'ee is. Wait outside a minnit, my deears, we'll be out in a minnit."
All left the inner cave except Ikey Trethewy, who stood watching us as if in wonder.
Cap'n Jack hunted around the cave for a few seconds until he found an inkhorn and a pen. "I do like to kip things handy," he said; "nobody do knaw what'll 'appen." Then, turning to Ikey Trethewy, he said, "You do knaw of a young woman who do live up to Pennington—a young woman jist come there, called Penryn, I speck, Ikey, my deear?"
Ikey nodded.
"Have 'ee got a bit ov paper, sonny?"
"No, Cap'n."
"Ah, tha's awkard. This 'll do, I 'spect—a bit of the prayer-book. I allays like to carry a prayer-book weth me, 'tes oncommon lucky. There, Jasper Pennington, write."
I dipped the pen into the inkhorn, and put the paper which he had torn from the prayer-book on a flat, smooth piece of slatestone. "What?" I asked.
"Write what I shall tell 'ee, now then:
"To Miss Naomi Penryn. If you breathe one word about, or come near Granfer Fraddam's Cave, I am a dead man!"
I wrote the words as he spoke them. "Is that all?" I asked.
"Sign yer naame, sonny."
I did as he told me.
He took the paper from me and spelt out the words carefully. "Ah, 'tes a grand thing to be a schullard," he said, admiringly. Then he turned to Ikey Trethewy. "This must be put in that young woman's hands at once, an' nobody must knaw 'bout et. Mind!"
"Iss, Cap'n," responded Ikey.
"Now we'll go," said Cap'n Jack. "Good-night, Ikey. Ah, 'tes a good thing to be a man of paice, and full of love for one's fella cretters. Now then, Jasper."
Two men waited for us in the outer cave, and a few seconds later I was in a boat bound for Kynance Cove.
Morning was breaking as we passed the Lizard, and, strangely circumstanced as I was, I could not help feeling awed as I looked upon the great headland. Little wind blew, but the long lines of white breakers thundered on the hard yellow sands, while the low-lying rocks churned the sea into foam.
"Purty, ed'n et, Jasper?" remarked Cap'n Jack. "'Ave 'ee ever zeed the Lizard afore, Jasper?"
"Never, Cap'n Jack."
"Ah, I'll make a man ov 'ee. I've a cutter ov my oan, sonny; not sa big, but a purty thing. She do want a cap'n, Jasper; one as knaws figgers, an' can larn navigation. I do want a gen'lman by birth, an' a great lashin' chap like you, Jasper—wawn as can taake acouple ov andy-sized men and knock their heads together. Oa, ther's providence in things, Jasper."
I said nothing, but my heart felt sad. I felt as if I were drifting away from Naomi, and that in spite of myself I was cutting the rope that held me to her.
Meanwhile the boats skirted the headland, and I saw the rocky coves of Kynance in the near distance.
"Well, we be near 'ome, sonnies," said the captain, "after a safe journey. Spoasin' somebody stricks up a bit of song now. Fishermen agoin' 'ome ov a mornin', we be. We've toiled oal night an' caught nothin', as the scripters say. Strik up now, 'Lijah Lowry, you've a fine and purty voice. Now, then, sweet and stiddy, my booy."
So Elijah Lowry started a song, and the rest joined in the chorus.
"Zing, Jasper," cried Cap'n Jack, when one verse was completed. "Jine in the cheerful song; let the people zee wot a contented, 'appy, law-abidin' lot we fishermen be. Now, then, chorus:
"Thrice the thunderin' seas did roar,Thrice the thunderin' winds did blow,While the brave sailors were rockin' on the top,And the landlubbers layin' down below.Below, below, below, below, bel—o—o—o—w!And the landlubbers layin' down below!"
"Thrice the thunderin' seas did roar,Thrice the thunderin' winds did blow,While the brave sailors were rockin' on the top,And the landlubbers layin' down below.Below, below, below, below, bel—o—o—o—w!And the landlubbers layin' down below!"
"Thrice the thunderin' seas did roar,
Thrice the thunderin' winds did blow,
While the brave sailors were rockin' on the top,
And the landlubbers layin' down below.
Below, below, below, below, bel—o—o—o—w!
And the landlubbers layin' down below!"
"Now, then, peart and stiddy oal," cried Cap'n Jack. "An' seein' as 'ow Providence 'ave bin sa kind, I do want 'ee to come up to my 'ouse to-night for supper. Ya knaw wot a good cook my maid Tamsin es. Well, she'll do 'er best fur to-night. Hake an' conger pie, roast beef and curney puddin', heave to an' come again,jist like kurl singers at Crismas time, my deears. Now, then, Jasper, you come long wi' me."
I walked with Cap'n Jack up a deep gully. On either hand the sides of the chasm shot up, steeper than the roof of a house, while in some places they were perpendicular.
"Nice'n lew 'ere, Jasper, my deear. Zee 'ow the things do graw. See the 'sparagus twigs, my deear. Like little fir-trees, be'ant 'em then. Aw, 'tes a keenly plaace, this es. Do 'ee zee thicky 'ouse up there, Jasper. Tha's mine—an' Tamsin 'll be waitin' for me. Providence took away 'er mawther, but left Tamsin; an' Providence was kind, Jasper, for her mawther'ada tongue, my deear. Jaw! ah, but Tamsin's mawther 'ad a speshul gift for jawin'! I caan't zay as 'ow I liked et, but I caan't deny that she was a gifted woman."
I could not but admit that Cap'n Jack spoke the truth about his house. It was situated on the side of the gorge, well sheltered from the winds, yet so placed that from the gable windows a broad expanse of sea could be seen. It was a well-built house, too, substantial and roomy. In the front was a garden, well stocked with flowers and vegetables. In this garden were two figureheads, supposed to represent Admiral Blake and Sir Walter Raleigh.
"Godly men, both of 'em," remarked Cap'n Jack; "an' both of 'em down on Popery. I be oal for a sound, solid religion, I be. Sir Walter brought baccy, and the Admiral, well 'ee polished off the Spaniards and took a lot of treasure from the Spanish ships. Some would call 'im a pirate, Jasper, my deear, but I be'ant that kind of a man. No, no, thews furrin chaps ca'ant'spect we to laive 'em go wethout payin' toll. 'Ere we be, Tamsin, my deear!"
The latter remark was addressed to a stout, buxom girl of twenty, who greeted her father warmly, looking at me curiously all the while.
"Now, Tamsin, my deear, we waant some breakfast. Wot'll 'ee 'ave, Jasper? 'Am rasher, my deear, or a few pilchers? Or p'raps Tamsin 'ave got some vowl pie? This es my maid, Tamsin, this es, by the blessin' of Providence—my one yaw lamb, tha's wot she es. As spruce a maid as there es in the country, my deear. An' I forgot, you dunnaw Jasper, do 'ee, Tamsin? This es Jasper Pennington, a godly young man who, like Esau of ould, 'ave bin rubbed of his birthright an' hes blessin'. He's a-goin' to jine us, Tamsin, 'n' then 'ee'll git back the birthright, an' laive Nick Trezidder 'ave the blessin'. Aw! Aw! Now, then, Jasper, haive too, my deear."
We sat down to breakfast, and I must confess to eating with a good appetite. When I lifted my eyes from my plate I saw that Tamsin was watching me curiously, as though she could not quite make me out. Certainly I was not very presentable. My clothes were stained and torn, and my appearance altogether unkempt. I felt ill at ease, too, and did not care to talk much. Besides, in spite of my strange position, I was tired and sleepy. This Cap'n Jack presently noted.
"You'll want to slaip, Jasper. Well, Tamsin shall give 'ee a bed, oal down, my deear—make 'ee sleep when you do'ant want to. I do veel like that, too. After we've 'ad a slaip, Jasper, we'll talk a bit avore the booys do come up to supper. A slap-bang supper now, Tamsin, mind that!"
Tamsin left the room to prepare a bed for me, while Cap'n Jack pulled off his boots.
"A clain off maid, Jasper, clain off. Spruce as a new pin, an' fresh as a new painted boat. Temper like a lamb, Jasper. Ah! she'll be a grand wife fur somebody, an' not short of a fortin neither. I've been a savin' man, sonny, an' 'ave bin oncommon lucky in traade. I spoase Israel Barnicoat do want 'er, an' Israel's a braavish booy, but Tamsin doan't take to 'im. No, she doan't. Ah, there she es. Es Jasper's bed ready? That's yer soarts."
He gave his daughter a sounding kiss, and went upstairs singing:
"Her eyes be as blue as the sea,Her 'air like goulden grain,An' she'll stick to me, and only meTill I come back again.Again, again, again,Till I come back again."
"Her eyes be as blue as the sea,Her 'air like goulden grain,An' she'll stick to me, and only meTill I come back again.Again, again, again,Till I come back again."
"Her eyes be as blue as the sea,
Her 'air like goulden grain,
An' she'll stick to me, and only me
Till I come back again.
Again, again, again,
Till I come back again."
"There, Jasper, thicky's the room, and tha's the bed, oal clain an' purty, my deear."
How long I slept I do not know, but it was a long time, for I was very tired. It was a long time since I had slept in a soft clean bed, and I did not fail to appreciate the one Tamsin had prepared. I awoke at length, however, and heard a tap at the door.
"Your new clothes are at the door." It was Tamsin who spoke.
On getting up and opening the door, I found a pile of clothes lying, and on examining them I found them to be well made, and of good material. They fitted me, too, and I must confess that I looked at myself with considerable satisfaction when I had dressed myself. Isaw, too, on entering the kitchen that Tamsin approved of my changed appearance.
"Father's gone down to the cove," she said.
She spoke correctly, and her voice was low and musical.
"He'll not be back for half an hour," she continued; "when he comes I expect he'll bring the men back to supper. I want us to have a talk now. I want you to tell me why you are here. I want to know if you realise what you are doing. Father will tell me nothing; but I cannot believe you know what joining his gang means."
As I looked into Tamsin Truscott's eyes, I could not help thinking what a good-looking maid she was. I was sure she spoke earnestly, too. Evidently she regarded me as different from the gang of men of which her father was captain, and wanted to know the reason of my coming among them.
Now I have before said I have never regarded myself as a clever man—none of my race have ever been. Honest men the Penningtons have always been; brave men, too, although I, perhaps, am not the man to say it, but not men who understand things quickly. Often after I have had dealings with people, it has come to my mind what I might have said and done, how I might have left some questions unanswered while others I could have answered differently. Lawyer Trefry once told me I should never get a living with my brains; I had too much body, he said. I am not ashamed to say this. Nay, I have no faith in men who are clever enough to give lying answers instead of true ones. Give me a man who speaks out straight, and who knows nothing of crooked ways. The men that the country wants are not clever, scheming men, who wriggle out of difficulties by underhanded ways, but those who see only the truth,and speak it, and fight for it if needs be. I am glad I had a fair amount of schooling, as becomes one who ought to have been the squire of a parish, but I am more thankful because I stand six feet four inches in my stockings, and measured forty-six inches around the naked chest even at twenty-one, and that I know next to nothing of sickness or bodily pain. But more than everything, I am proud that although I have been badly treated I have told no lies in order that truth may prevail, neither do I remember striking an unfair blow. No doubt, I shall have many things to answer for on the Judgment Day, but I believe God will reckon to my account the fact that I tried to fight fairly when sorely tempted to do otherwise.
I say this, because it may seem to many that I was foolish in telling Tamsin Truscott the truth about myself. But as I said just now, I am not clever at answering people, neither could I frame answers to her questions which would hide the truth from her. Before we had been talking ten minutes I had told her all about myself, except my love for Naomi. I dared not speak about that, for I felt I was not worthy to speak of her, whose life was far removed from unlawful men and their ways. Moreover I could not bear that the secret of my heart should be known. It should be first told to the one who only had a right to hear it, even although she should refuse that which I offered her.
"And so," said Tamsin, "my father has promised that you shall win enough money to buy Pennington if you will work with him."
"That he has," was my reply.
"And do you know the kind of life he lives?"
"I have heard," I replied.
"And would you feel happy, Jasper Pennington, if you bought back your home, got by such means?"
"As for that," I replied, for I did not feel comfortable under her words, "what harm is there in smuggling? I know of several parsons who buy smuggled goods."
"If smuggling were all!" she said, significantly.
"But is it not all?" I queried. "Your father told me that this was all he required."
"Do you think you could gain enough by smuggling? Bill Lurgy has been with my father for years; does he look like one who could buy back Pennington?"
"He is but a paid man," I replied. "Your father has promised that I shall have shares in his profits."
A look of scorn flashed from her eyes, which I could not understand, and she seemed to be about to say some words which caused her much feeling, when her eyes looked straight into mine, and I saw the blood course up into her face, until her very brow became crimson. Her hands trembled, too, while her lips twitched so that she was unable to speak.
Now, I could not understand this, especially as a few seconds before she had been so eager to talk.
"Would you advise me to ask your father to release me of my promise, then?" I asked. "I cannot go at once without his consent, for I have given my word I will stay with him for one month."
For answer she caught my hands eagerly. "No, no, stay!" she said. "I will see to it that you are fairly treated. You must not go away!"
This puzzled me much, but I had no time to ask her what she meant, for just then her father and several of his men came into the room.
There was great carousing that night at Cap'n Jack'shouse. A great deal of grog was drunk, and many strange things said, and yet I could not help feeling that a kind of reserve was upon the party. I noticed that when some story was being told Cap'n Jack coughed, whereupon the eyes of the story-teller were turned upon me, and the yarn remained unfinished. I could see, too, that many of the men did not like me, and I grew uneasy at the ugly looks they gave me. Moreover, I could not help remembering that in spite of all I was a Pennington, and was no fit company for such as they. And yet I could not escape, for I was hemmed in on every side.
At the end of a month I began to feel more at home among my surroundings, and up to that time was not asked to do anything particularly objectionable. It is true I helped to bring several cargoes of smuggled goods ashore, but that did not trouble me. Moreover, I learnt many things about the coast of which I had hitherto been ignorant. At the end of two months I knew the coast from Gurnard's Head to Kynance Cove, and had also spent a good deal of time in learning navigation, which Cap'n Jack assured me would be essential to my getting back Pennington. I had no rupture with any of the men, and yet I saw they did not like me. Especially did Israel Barnicoat regard me with a great deal of disfavour. I thought at the time that he was jealous of the favour which Cap'n Jack showed me, for I knew no other reason why he should dislike me. It was true that until I came he was regarded as the strongest man in Cap'n Jack's gang, and was angry when he heard some one say that I could play with two such as he.
"I would like to try a hitch with you, Squire," he said one day, when Cap'n Jack had been chaffing him.
We were standing on the little green outside the Cap'n's house, and several of us were together. I did not want to wrestle with him, for it is ill playing a game of strength with a man who cannot keep his temper. So I told him I would rather let him be regarded as the strongest man that Cap'n Jack had. Whereupon he swore loudly and called me a coward, so that I was obliged to accept his challenge. I had no sooner thrown off my coat than Tamsin came to the door, and when Israel saw her his arms became hard, and a strange light shone from his eyes.
"Throw off your shoes, Israel," I said. "We won't go in for kicking like the up-country fellows, let's play like true Cornish lads."
Then I took off my heavy boots, and he did likewise, although I could see he was not pleased. After that I waited quietly and let him get his hitch on me first. But he was no match for me; try as he would, he could not throw me, although he could see I did not put forth my strength. Then, when I had let him do his utmost, I slipped from his grasp, put my loins under his body, and threw him on the sward.
"Bravo!" cried Tamsin. "Ah, Israel, you are but a baby in his hands," and she laughed gleefully.
"It was a coward's throw," shouted Israel. "He struck me in the wind with his knee—a coward's kick!"
"Coward!" I cried. "Nay, Israel Barnicoat, I could play with two such as you. Let your brother come with you, and I'll throw you both."
With that Micah Barnicoat came up, and both together they leaped upon me; but I caught them like I have seen the schoolmaster at Tregorny catch two boys,and knocked their heads together; then with a little trick I laid them both on the sward.
I do not write this boastingly, because I had nothing to do but to use the strength which God gave me. I could not help it that I came of a large-boned, strong race. My forefathers had been mighty men, and although I am told I am far smaller and weaker than they, Israel Barnicoat and his brother seemed like children in my hands. Neither would I have written this save that it has to do with the story of my life, which I am trying to tell truthfully, although, I am afraid, with but little skill.
Israel looked at me more evilly than ever as he rose to his feet, but he said no word, even though the men laughed loudly, and Tamsin rejoiced at my success. I liked it not, however, when that same evening I saw Israel eagerly talking with a group of men, each of whom held their peace as I came up. This set me thinking, and finally a conviction laid hold of me that Israel was my enemy, and that he would do me evil if he had the chance.
After I had gone to bed that night I heard the sound of voices in the garden, and presently, as if by arrangement, Cap'n Jack went to them.
"Where's the Squire?" I heard Israel Barnicoat say—they had called me Squire from the first.
"Been in bed more'n an hour," was the reply.
"Look 'ere, Cap'n Jack," said Israel; "we want to spaik plain. Why is he to be put afore we? Here 'ee es, livin' at your 'ouse as ef 'ee was yer son. He ain't got to do no dirty work. Oal we want es fair play. Laive 'ee do loustrin' jobs same as we do."
"Anything else?" asked Cap'n Jack.
"I do'ant bleeve in makin' fish o' waun and flesh of t'other. All alike, I zay."
"Be I cap'n?" asked Cap'n Jack.
"Iss, you be; but we chaps 'ave got our rights, tha's wot I zay. Wot's ee more'n we?"
"Be I a fool, Israel Barnicoat?" asked Cap'n Jack. "Caan't I zee wot's good fur us oal? He's larnin' navigation—wot fur? Ain't us got a ship that 'll need navigation? We want a man as knaws figgers an's got schoolin'; 'ave you got et? We want somebody as can play the genleman; can you do et? Billy Coad es too ould to taake command ov theFlyin' Swanmuch longer; well, wot then? Who's to do et? You knaw we caan't 'ford to 'ave outsiders. 'Sides, ef 'ee once gits in weth we—well, we've got un, ain't us?"
"Well, wot then?"
"He'll buy back Pennington."
"Wot's the use o' that to we?"
"Be 'ee a fool, Israel Barnicoat? Caan't 'ee zee that eff he's one o' we, and he gits back his rights, that we'm as safe as eggs, an' shell allays have a squire an' a magistrate on our side? Tha's wot I be humourin' 'im for. I do'ant want to drive un away fust thing."
A good deal of murmuring followed this, some of the men evidently agreeing with their captain, others feeling with Israel that I had had too many favours shown me. Then they talked too low for me to hear, except now and then fragments of sentences about the "queer-coloured flag on theFlying Swan," and "Billy Coad makin' many a man walk the plank."
All this opened my eyes to many things which had not hitherto been plain to me, and I listened more eagerly than ever, in order to understand their plansconcerning me; but I could make nothing out of the orders which Cap'n Jack was giving. At last, just before they left him, one asked a question in a low voice: "When is theFlying Swanexpected?"
"A couple ov months, sonny. We must humour un a bit, and git un in our ways. We ca'ant 'ford to be fullish jist now."
Presently they all left with the exception of Israel Barnicoat, who spoke to Cap'n Jack eagerly.
"'Tes oal very well to talk, Cap'n," he said, "but 'ee's stailin' away Tamsin from me."
"Did you ever 'ave Tamsin to stail, sonny?" asked the Cap'n.
"Well, I 'ad a chance at wawn time, but now she's tooked on weth he. Mind, Cap'n, ef he do git Tamsin ther'll be somebody missin'!"
"Doan't be a fool, Israel," replied Cap'n Jack. "Go away 'ome, sonny, and be ready for yer work in the mornin'."
"But mind, Cap'n, the Squire must obey oarders saame as we, else ther'll be mutiny."
"Well, 'ee shell, ther' now. Good-night, Israel; good-night, sonny, and by the blessing of Providence you'll be a rich man yet."
I turned over all this many times in my mind, and, as may be imagined, I was sore driven what to think. Up till now I had not been asked, beyond smuggling, to do anything unlawful, but now I saw that I was intended for wild work. Moreover, I knew not how to get out of it, for Cap'n Jack had, in a way, got me in his power. I had heard of several who had once belonged to his gang, and who had come to an untimely end, and this not by means of the law, but by unknown ways. I alsocalled to mind one of his stories concerning one Moses Rowse, who, because he wanted to "turn religious," was found on the beach one day with his head broken, while another went away from home and never came back again.
All this, I say, wrought upon me strangely—so much so that I did not sleep that night, and I formed many plans as to how I might escape, until my brain was weary.
The next day I noticed that Cap'n Jack was eagerly looking at the sea, as though he saw something of interest, although I, who looked in the direction toward which his eyes were turned, could see nothing.
"I reckon ther'll be some work to-night, Jasper, my sonny," he remarked, after looking steadily a long time. "It do come dark early thaise November days, an' it'll be a baisly muggy night to-night, tha's wot 't'll be. I must go down to the cove and zee the booys."
When he was gone Tamsin came to me.
"What are you so stand-offish for?" she asked.
I did not reply, for my heart was sad.
"And what did you think of the talk between father and the men last night?" she asked.
"What do you know about it?" I asked.
"I know you were listening," she replied; "but never mind, it's all safe with me; and, Jasper, you mustn't think that I care about Israel Barnicoat, I don't like un a bit."
"He's the strongest man in your father's gang," I said.
"No, Jasper, he's no man at all when you are near. How could I look on Israel Barnicoat now I've seen you?" She said this with a sob, and then I knew that Tamsin Truscott loved me. She caught my great brownhand and kissed it. "Jasper," she cried, "I know where father keeps his money, love me, and I will get it for you; more than enough to buy back Pennington. No one knows how rich father is. I know, I know!"
The maid spoke like one demented, and, for the moment, I knew not how to answer her. Not that I despised her for saying what always ought to be said by the man, for I believe that her heart was as clean as a wind-swept sky. For a moment, too, wild, unnatural thoughts came into my mind which I will not here set down. But even as they came the picture of Naomi's face came before me, and they departed with the swiftness of lightning. For I have found this to be true: a true love ever destroys baser and poorer loves. Let a man love truly a true, pure woman, and all womanhood is sacred to him. And because I loved Naomi truly no other love could come into my life.
So I did not reply to Tamsin's words, but walked away toward the cove instead. Still her words had their effect—they determined me to leave Cap'n Jack's gang as soon as possible. I saw now that it would be wrong to stay at Kynance Cove, wrong to Tamsin, wrong to myself. It would be unworthy of my love for Naomi. For two months I had not realised what lay before me, now I understood. How could I go to her with words of love upon my lips, when I sought to win back the home of my fathers by such means as Cap'n Jack hinted in his talk with his followers the night before? And so again and again I planned how I might get away.
Early in the afternoon Cap'n Jack came to me. "I want us to crake a bit, sonny," he said. I did not reply, but I sat down near him in the open chimney.
"It's time we come to bisness," he said. "You'vebin loppin' 'bout for two months, doin' nothin' much. Well, the booys be jillus, Jasper, and they want things clear."
"I've done all you've asked me," I replied.
"Iss, so you 'ave, sonny, but I want to maake a man ov 'ee. I've got a purty boat, Jasper, calledThe Flying Swan. She'll be 'ome soon from what I 'ope will be a prosperous voyage. I want you to go on 'er as a soart of maate, to taake command laater on."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "What is thisFlying Swanof which you are the owner? Is she a trading vessel? What does she carry? Besides, why choose me? I know nothing about sea life."
"I'll tell 'ee," he said. "TheFlyin' Swanis used for smugglin' on a biggish scale. She's manned by as braave a lot of chaps as ever clained the seams of a deck. Her cap'n es Billy Coad, a man you may 'ave 'eer'd on, and wawn you would like to knaw. A man of rare piety, Jasper. He and me be the main owners, by the blessin' of Providence. Ah, it would do yer 'art good to hear 'im give his Christian experience."
"Smuggling on a biggish scale. What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"Well, dailin' direct weth the furrin' poarts, and at times, when Billy do see a vessel in the open say, wot do carry the flag of a Papist country, say the Spanish, well, I doan't deny—but there."
"You mean that theFlying Swanis but little better than a pirate ship."
"Never call things by ugly naames," replied Cap'n Jack; "besides, I do look upon this as your main chance of buyin' back Pennington."
"Suppose I refuse?" I suggested.
"You wa'ant refuse, sonny."
"Why not?"
"Well, twudden pay 'ee. We doan't never have that sort wi' we. I'm a man of paice, I be; but thaise be loanely paarts, my sonny. Nearer than Lezard Town ther's 'ardly a 'ouse. You wudden be missed much."
"But suppose I were to leave you?"
"Laive us; no, sonny, you ca'ant do that now. You knaw too much."
"How can you keep me? Suppose I were to leave the house now, ay, leave the county, who could stop me?"
"I could, sonny. Do you think I'm a cheeld? I've got the county ringed—I've got men everywhere. Cap'n Jack Truscott's gang is a big affair, my son, an' I telly this, ef you tried to git away to-night you'd be a dead man afore to-morrow, for oal I'm a man of paice, and send presents to the passon in place of tithes; I doan't stand no nonsense, mind that, my son."
His white eyes shone with a strange light, and I knew he had his fears about my loyalty.
"The truth es, Jasper," went on Cap'n Jack, "you've come wi' we, and wi' we you must stay; that es, till you git 'nough to buy back Pennington. Aw, aw!"
"And if I do?"
"I shell 'ave a squire for my friend, and—well, you'll still be one o' we. You see, my sonny, we've got many ways o' doin' things, an' when I once gits 'old ov a chap, well, I sticks. But theer, sonny, wot's the use ov angry words. I'm a paicable man, and wen you knaw us better, you'll knaw 'ow we stick to aich other through thick and thin. I like 'ee, Jasper, an' I've got need ov 'ee. A strong fella you be—Israel Barnicoat and hisbrother Micah was just like little babbies to 'ee. A schullard, too, and knaw figgers. Iss, a year on theFlyin' Swanon an expedishan I'm a thinkin' on will buy back Pennington, and then, well, we shall see, Jasper. Why shudden I be the squire's father-in-law, eh, sonny? An' Tamsin es a grand maid, ed'n she then?"
Slowly my mind grasped his meaning, but I did not speak.
"Still, tho' you be a fav'rite ov mine, Jasper, the booys be jillus, that ev it. An' ther's a bit of work on to-night, sonny. There's a craft a few miles out, an' to-night will be baisly and black. Well, the booys insist on your takin' our ould mare, an' tyin' a lantern on to her neck, an' leadin' 'er on the cliff toward the Lizard. It'll do thou'll mare good, and be a light to the vessel."
"Such a light would lure her on to the rocks!" I cried.
"Wud et, Jasper? Well, some wud blaame Providence for these things. But it must be done."
"And suppose the Preventive men see me?"
"Wot be a couple of sich chaps to you? You could knack their 'eads together like you ded by Micah and Israel."
"And if I refuse?"
He looked at me steadily for a minute with his white eyes gleaming strangely in the firelight; then he said, slowly, "Ef you refuse this time, my sonny, you'll never refuse no more in this world."
All the same I made up my mind that I would escape from Cap'n Jack's gang that very night, and that I would take no part in luring a vessel on to destruction.
An hour later a number of men were in the kitchen of Cap'n Jack's house, and from the way they talked I knew they meant that the vessel which they had been watching should that night be destroyed. Never until then did I realise the utter heartlessness of the gang. They seemed to care nothing for the lives of those on the ship which they had decided to wreck. In their lust for gain nothing was sacred to them. As far as I could gather, their plan was that I should lead Cap'n Jack's horse along the edge of the cliffs with a lantern fastened to its neck. This to a ship at sea would seem like the light of another ship. The false light would thus lead the captain to steer his vessel straight upon the rocks. Outside was a wild, high sea, the clouds overhead were black as ink, and not a star appeared, thus the doomed vessel would be at the mercy of the wreckers. It was Cap'n Jack's plan to have his men in readiness to seize upon all the valuables of the ship, and that the crew should be drowned. They had made out that the vessel was bound for Falmouth, but that in the blackness of the night the crew would lose their whereabouts, and would eagerly steer toward what they would believe to be the light of another vessel.
Why I had been chosen to show the false light I knew not, except that such a deed, by exposing me to the vigilance of the Preventive men, would bind me more securely. They did not seem to think that I should fail in doing this. As Cap'n Jack had said, to fail to obey the commands of the gang meant an untimely death, while to try and escape would bring upon me the same punishment.
Every man was well primed with brandy, and Cap'n Jack saw that while each one had enough to excite him to wild deeds, no man was allowed to drink to such a degree that he became in any way incapacitated for the work before him.
During the conversation, however, I noticed that Israel Barnicoat spoke no word. Instead, he kept his eyes upon me. When the conference was ended, however, and all their plans, which I have barely hinted at, because in my ignorance and excitement I could only dimly understand them, Israel spoke aloud.
"Cap'n," he said; "the Squire have never done a job like this afore, he'll need somebody weth un."
"We ca'ant spare more'n one man for sich a job," was the response.
"It'll need another, I tell 'ee," replied Israel.
"Then thee c'n kip un company," was Cap'n Jack's reply.
"Oal right," cried Israel, but he kept his eyes away from me as he spoke.
"Tell 'ee where we'll begin," continued Israel, still looking away from me. "We'll take old Smiler right to the Lizard, jist off Carligga Rocks, we'll kip on cloase by Polpeor, an' on to Bumble. I reckon by that time she'll be on the rocks. You c'n board 'er there, ef needsbe, and we'll mit you in the saicret caave in Honsel Cove."
"Iss, that'll do very well, sonny," was Cap'n Jack's reply. "By coose we mayn't git 'er afore she do git to the Devil's Fryin' Pan or Cadwith, and ef you fail theer, you must git to Black Head as fast as yer legs can car'ee. But kip away from Ruan Minor, Israel, my sonny. The Preventive men be strong there."
"Trust me," laughed Israel.
Cap'n Jack went out and looked seaward, anxiously. "You must start in a 'our or a 'our and haalf, Israel, my sonny, and the rest of us must git doun to the Cove to once," he said, when he came back.
"Oal right, Cap'n," replied Israel, "I jist want to go and spaik to mauther, while the Squire do git the oull mare ready."
I went out as he spoke, and then acting on sudden impulse, determined to follow him. A minute later I was glad I had done so, for I saw that he was going away from his mother's house. He hurried rapidly along the Helston road until he came to a little beer-house, or as the folks called it a kiddleywink, which he entered. When I had arrived at the door of this kiddleywink, I was at a loss what to do, neither could I make out why he had come here. I had barely time to think, however, before Israel came out again, and I saw that he was accompanied by a Preventive man.
"I've got a job for 'ee," said Israel.
"What?"
"A chap showin' a false light to-night."
"But I'd arranged weth the Cap'n to kip away, an' to kip our chaps away."
"Never mind that. I c'n maake et wuth yer while."
"Well, what es et?"
"Be jist off The Stags at twelve o'clock to-night. A young fella will be laidin' an ould gray mare."
"But wot about the Cap'n?"
"I tell 'ee 't'll be for your good. You do as I tell 'ee, Ellic, or, well, you'll knaw what!"
"But et'll spoil yer plans!"
"Never mind. Look 'ere—" Then he talked earnestly in low tones so that I could not hear. Evidently, however, he satisfied the officer, for I heard him say, "Clain off. A reglar feather in my cap, and the Cap'n wa'ant knaw."
When Israel returned to Cap'n Jack's house I had the mare all ready.
"We'll go stright to Carn Barrow," he said, shortly.
"That wasn't Cap'n Jack's plan," was my reply.
"Look 'ere, Squire, I'm to work this. You'm new to this work. I tell 'ee we must git to the Devil's Fryin' Pan by ten o'clock, and then git back to The Stags 'bout twelve."
"Very well," I replied, "I'm ready."
"'Tes a good two mile by road to the Fryin' Pan," he remarked. "And 'tes oppen downs nearly oal the way to The Stags." He seemed to think a minute, then he said, "No, we wa'ant go so far as that, we'll jist go to Bumble Rock, and then kip on the top by Poltream Cove. That'll taake us oal our time."
He led the horse and I carried the lantern, which he said should not be lit until we came to Bumble Rock, which stands by a gully in the headland, where the seas roar with a terrible noise as they break upon the coast.
Not a word was spoken as we went along in thedarkness. As well as I could I kept watch on him, for I knew he hated me. He was jealous of me for several reasons. For one thing, since I had come, Tamsin Truscott had ceased to notice him, and for another, he was no longer regarded as the strongest man in the gang. For years he had been proud of this, and now the men laughed at him because I was able to play with both him and his brother. Perhaps the wrestling match at which I had mastered him so easily had more to do with his enmity than the fact that Tamsin no longer smiled on him. For his pride in his strength was greater than his love.
As I have said, it was a wild dark night. A great sea hurled itself on the coast, although ordinarily it could not be called dangerous. As we drew near the rocks, however, we could hear the waves roaring like a thousand angry beasts. Bumble Rock rose up like a great giant, and seemed to laugh at the black waves which it churned into foam. The rocks which we could dimly see, for our eyes had become used to the darkness, seemed like the teeth of a hideous monster, which would cruelly tear any ship that the waves should dash upon them. The thought of the vessel, evidently bound for Falmouth Harbour, being lured to destruction, with all hands on board, was horrible to me, and at that moment a great anger rose in my heart toward the gang among whom I had lived for two months. Hitherto, however, my hands had been unstained by crime, and I determined that for the future, even although I should be hunted down by the men into whose hands I had fallen, I would escape from them that night.
"I've got the tinder and the flint and steel," remarked Israel, "we must git to a lew plaace an' lightthe candle. Come over 'ere. Ther's a 'ollow behind the rocks, it'll do zackly."
I followed him without a word until we reached a spot that was sheltered from the sea, although we could still hear the waves surging and moaning, while flecks of foam often beat upon our faces.
Perhaps there is no more lonely place on God's earth than this. That night the genius of desolation seemed to reign, while the roaring sea told me of mad spirits playing with the angry waters. In the dim light I could see the long line of foam, while above the dark cliffs loomed; landward nothing was visible, save a suggestion of the outline of the hills.
"'Tes a gashly night and this es a gashly job to be done," said Israel. "By agor, 'ow the waaves do roar," he continued, after a minute.
"Yes, 'tis a wild night," I responded, and as if in confirmation of my words, a great wave broke on Bumble Rock with a mighty roar, while a shower of spray and flecks of foam fell upon us.
"Well, 'tes as lew 'ere as we can git it anywhere," he said; "ther now, you hould the lantern while I strick the light."
"No," I replied.
"Wot do 'ee main?" he queried.
"Simply this," I answered; "no false light shall shine on this cliff to-night." As I spoke I took the lantern and threw it over the cliffs. Then I sprang upon him and caught his hands in mine.
"Look you, Israel Barnicoat," I said, "I know what your plans are. I followed you as you went to the Preventive man to-night; but it is no use. The wreckers'light will not shine to-night, neither will I be off The Stags at twelve o'clock."
He struggled to be free, but I held him tight.
"You'll suffer for this," he screamed; "when Cap'n Jack knaws you'll die."
"I must take chance of that," I said. Then I threw him heavily on the sward. Taking some cord from my pocket, with which I had provided myself before starting, I bound his hands securely behind him. Then I bound his legs.
"Wot be 'ee goin' to do weth me now?" he shrieked.
"Nothing more."
"But you bean't goin' to laive me lie 'ere oal night, be 'ee? Why, I sh'll die ov the cowld."
"No, you won't," I said; "as you mentioned, this is a lew place, and you are not one who will die so easily. You may be a bit cramped by the morning, and perhaps you may get a twinge of rheumatics, but that'll be all. Besides, it's far better for you to suffer a bit than that yon vessel shall be wrecked. Now I'll leave you to your sins; I'm off."
"Off where?"
"Off where you'll never see me again. You'll have company to-night, perhaps. It's said that Peter Crowle's ghost comes here on windy nights. I wish you pleasant company."
"Oh, doan't 'ee go," he screamed; "I'm 'fraid of sperrits, I be. Let me free, Squire, 'n I'll never tell where you'm gone; I'll zay you'm drowned, or tumbled ovver the cleffs or anything, onnly do cut the ropes, and lev me be free."
"No," I said; "while you are here Cap'n Jack willthink the false lights are showing, and perhaps the vessel will be safe. As for the spirits, you are the strongest, bravest man in the gang, and, of course, you are not afraid of spirits."
"But you bean't agoin' to take th'oull mare?"
"Yes; Smiler will come with me. Good luck to you, Israel Barnicoat."
I sprang upon Smiler's back and rode away, leaving him in the sheltered hollow. The night was cold and threatened rain, but I was sure that, hardy and used to exposure as he was, he would not be hurt. When morning came he would be searched for and found. Of course he would tell his story to Cap'n Jack, but by that time I hoped to be out of harm's way.
At first I rode slowly, especially until I got to Ruan Major. Arrived there, however, and having struck into the road over Goonhilly Downs, I went faster. I felt strangely happy, for it seemed as though a weight were rolled from my shoulders. Once more I was a free man, and I imagined that for some hours I should not be pursued. Besides, all the time I had been with Cap'n Jack's gang I felt that I was doing what was unworthy of a Pennington, and worse still, what was unworthy of my love for Naomi. But more than all, a wild scheme had come into my mind; I would that night go to Pennington and try to see Naomi. The thought acted upon me like some strange elixir; to hear Naomi's voice, to feel her hand in mine, were a joy beyond all words. How I was to do this I did not know; what difficulties I should meet I did not consider. The thought that I should see her was enough for me, and I shouted for very joy. The hour was not yet late, and I calculated that by hard riding I could get to Pennington bymidnight. Thus at the very hour when Israel Barnicoat had planned for me to be taken by the Preventive men, I hoped to be speaking to my love.
In looking back I can see that my hopes were very unreasonable. How could I get Naomi to speak to me? At best she could only regard me as a landless outcast, whom she had once seen pilloried in Falmouth town and pelted by hooting boys. It is true I had told her my story in Granfer Fraddam's Cave, and she had shown a desire to shield me from Richard Tresidder, but she must probably have forgotten all about it. Besides, if she had not forgotten me, she would think me either dead or far away. The letter which I had written at Cap'n Jack's dictation would tell her that I was in his power. During my two months' stay at Kynance Cove, I had asked Cap'n Jack concerning Granfer Fraddam's Cave, but he always evaded my questions, and I did not know whether she had received the letter I had written.
At the same time my heart beat high with hope, and I was happy. For a true love, even although difficulties beset it, is always beautiful and joyous. As I rode along through the night, even the wild winds sang love songs to me, while I could see the light of Naomi's eyes shining in the darkness, revealing her face to me, pure and beautiful.
I am told that my days of romance are over, that I have reached that stage in life when the foolishness of young lovers is impossible to me. And yet even now I cannot see a boy and a maid together without my heart beating faster; for there is nothing more beautiful on God's green earth than the love of lovers, and I know that when a lad feels a girl's first kisses on his lips, he lives in heaven, if he loves her as I loved Naomi. Thereare those, even in this parish, who sneer at the bliss of boy and girl sweethearts, but I, who remember the night when I rode from Bumble Rock to Pennington, cannot sneer; nay, rather, the tears start to my eyes, and I find myself fighting my battles again and dreaming of love, even as I dreamed then.
Smiler was a better steed than I had hoped. Saddle I had none, nor bridle, but the halter which had been placed on her head was sufficient for me to guide her. Moreover, I had been used to horses all my life, and felt as much at ease on a horse's back as on my feet. Thus it came about that before midnight I had reached the parish of St. Eve, and was making my way toward Pennington. When within sight of the house, however, I was in a dilemma, and never until then did I realise how difficult was the task I had set myself. The whole family was a-bed, at least I imagined so, neither did I know the part of the house where Naomi Penryn was. Most likely, too, dogs would be prowling around, and I did not wish to place myself in the power of Richard Tresidder or his son Nick. At the same time I vowed that I would see Naomi, even though I waited there until morning.
So, tying Smiler to a tree, I crept quietly up to the house and looked anxiously around. At first all seemed to be in darkness, but presently I saw a light shining from one of the windows in the back part of the house. Wondering what it might mean, I went toward it and looked through the window. A blind had been drawn, but it did not fit the window well, and there was an inch of glass between the window-frame and the blind that was not covered. At first I could only see the room in a blurred sort of way, for the leaded panes of glass weresmall, but presently I saw more clearly. The room into which I looked was the kitchen, and by the table sat a man and a woman. The man was Ikey Trethewy, whom I had last seen in Granfer Fraddam's Cave, and who had promised to take my letter to Naomi; the woman was the Pennington cook. The latter was a sour and rather hard-featured woman of forty years of age. It had been a joke of the parish that Tryphena Rowse never had a sweetheart in her life, that she was too ugly, too cross-tempered. It was also rumoured, however, that this was not Tryphena's fault, and that her great desire was to get married and settle down. I soon saw that Ikey Trethewy was there as Tryphena's sweetheart. The table was covered with tempting eatables, of which Ikey partook freely, stopping between sups of ale and mouthfuls of chicken pie to salute the object of his affections. I saw, too, that these attentions were by no means disagreeable to the cook, although she gave Ikey several admonitory taps. It was evident, too, that Ikey's visit was clandestine. I knew that, except on special occasions, it was the rule for Pennington doors to be closed at ten o'clock, while it was now past midnight. Probably Ikey, who had the reputation of being a woman-hater, did not care for his courtship to be known, for I knew that he did not like being laughed at or joked in any way.
I had not waited long when Ikey began to make preparations for his departure, while Tryphena seemed to be trying to persuade him to stay a little longer. No sound reached me, however, and I imagined that all their conversation was carried on in whispers for fear the noise thereof might reach the master or mistress of the establishment. He succeeded at length, however, inbreaking away from the embraces of the fair cook, while two huge dogs which lay by the kitchen fire watched them solemnly. Presently the door opened, and Ikey and Tryphena stood together outside. They were quite close to me, so that I could hear their every word.
"You wa'ant be long afore you come again, Ikey?" asked Tryphena.
"Not long, my buty. P'raps you c'n git a bit a pigin pie next time."
"That I will, Ikey. But doan't 'ee think, Ikey, 'tes time for 'ee to be puttin' in th' baans? We've bin a-courtin' like this now for more'n vive yer."
"Well, tha's nothin', Tryphena. Jim Jory ded court Mary Hicks thirteen yer afore they wur spliced."
"Iss; but I ca'ant kip comp'ny weth 'ee like other maids. An' ted'n vitty fur we to be mittin' every week like this 'ere."
"Well, Tryphena, my buty, you do knaw I do love 'ee deerly. An' you be a clain off cook, too. I niver taasted sich a vowl pie in my life, ther now. An' yer zay 't shell be a pigin pie next week."
"Iss, Ikey; but 'twud be purty to 'ave a 'ome of our oan."
"Mawther wa'ant 'eer of et it, nor Cap'n Jack nuther. 'Nother yer or two, Tryphena, and then I'll go to the passen. Ther, I mus' be goin'."
Another sounding kiss, and Ikey crept away very quietly, while Tryphena began to put away the supper things. In a minute my mind was made up. I had heard enough to settle me on my plan of action. I thought I saw the means whereby I could see Naomi.
I waited until Tryphena had cleared away the remains of Ikey's repast, and was evidently preparing to go toher room, and then I gave the kitchen door a slight knock, and, imitating Ikey's voice as well as I could, I said, "Tryphena, my buty, laive me in a minait."
She came and opened the door quickly.
"'Ave 'ee forgot summin', Ikey, deear?" she said; and then before she recognised me I slipped in.
The dogs rose up with a low, suppressed growl, as though they were in doubt what to do; but Tryphena, who was as anxious as I that the household might not be disturbed, quieted them.
"Maaster Jasper Pennington!" she gasped as she looked into my face.
"That's right, Tryphena," I said. "Sit down, I want to talk with you, and I want you to do something for me."
"No, I mustn't, I daren't. They do oal hate 'ee 'ere, Maaster Jasper. Ef they wos to knaw you was 'ere, I dunnaw wot wud 'appen."
For a moment a great bitterness came into my heart, for I remembered that this was the first time I had ever entered the home of my fathers. And it galled me beyond measure that I should have to enter at midnight at the kitchen door like a servant who came courting the servant maids. I quickly realised my position, however, and acted accordingly.
"Yes, you must do what I ask you, Tryphena," I said.
"I tell 'ee I ca'ant."
"Then Ikey Trethewy will be in the hands of the Preventive men by to-morrow," I replied, "and Richard Tresidder will know that a man has come to his house for years at midnight on the sly."
I did not want to frighten the poor woman, but it hadto be done. I saw, too, that I had said sufficient to make Tryphena afraid to thwart me.
"What do 'ee want me to do?" she asked.
"I suppose no one can hear us?" I said.
"No, oal the family, 'ciptin' Miss Naomi, do slaip in another paart ov the 'ouse."
I listened intently, but could hear no sound; evidently all the family was asleep.
"You remember about two months ago that Ikey brought a letter to Miss Naomi Penryn?" I said.
"Iss."
"Well, I wrote that letter."
"I knaw; Ikey tould me."
"Well, I want to see Miss Naomi."
"When?"
"To-night. I want you to go to her room now, and tell her that I want to see her."