"I am sure I saw a man and woman," I heard Nick Tresidder say.
"I thought I did, too," replied his father; "but we must have been mistaken, I suppose. Of course, they could have got behind Great Bear and then kept along under the cliff."
"Then they must have gone past, for they are nowhere to be seen."
"Perhaps they wanted to hurry to be before the tide."
"Yes; I suppose that must be it," replied Nick, doubtfully.
"Still, I don't know that it matters. We should not have troubled at all if we hadn't thought it might be Naomi."
"No; where can she be, I wonder?"
"She's a strange girl, Nick. She doesn't seem to feel happy at Pennington, neither does she make friends with Emily. She's always roaming among the woods or along the beach. I shouldn't wonder at all if she hasn't lost herself among the woods. You must be careful, my lad."
"Oh, it's all right, there's no danger. I say, do you know that Jacob Buddie told me he believed he sawJasper Pennington in the lane outside Betsey Fraddam's house last night?"
"I don't believe it; we've got rid of him effectually. But we must hurry on, Nick, we've just time to get to Granfer Fraddam's path before the tide gets in."
"Yes, it's a good way on. Isn't Granfer Fraddam's Cave here somewhere?"
"I've my doubts whether there is such a place. There may have been such a cave in the old man's time, but lots of ground has fallen in during the past fifty years. Anyhow, I've often searched along the coast and could never find it."
"But it's around here that the noises have been heard. You know people say it's haunted by the old man's ghost."
"Well, I've never been able to find it."
They hurried on, and I gave a sigh of relief.
"Are they gone?" asked Naomi.
"Yes, they are gone; they don't know anything. It will take them a long while to get home. It's a long way to Pennington by Granfer Fraddam's path. The cliff is steep, too."
"But I must go now," she said, anxiously.
"You shall get home before they can," I said, eagerly.
"I will take you through another opening. You will know another secret of this cave then. You see, I trust you wholly, and you will know my hiding-place almost as well as I know it myself."
"But do you live here?"
Then I told her what I had to do, and how Eli Fraddam brought food to me, and how when winter came I should have to make other plans.
She listened quietly, and said no word, but allowed me to lead her up the cave until we reached the copse of which I have spoken. We were still hidden from sight, for the bushes grew thick, and the trees were large and had abundant foliage. She held out her hand to say good-bye.
"I shall remember your kindness," she said.
"And do not think too hardly about me," I pleaded, "remember what I have had to suffer."
"I shall think of you very kindly," was her response; "not that it matters to you," she added. "We are strangers, most probably we shall never meet again, and the opinion of a stranger cannot help you."
"It is more than you can think," I answered, eagerly. "When I saw that look of sympathy on your face when I stood in the pillory at Falmouth it made everything easier to bear. Besides, you say you will stay at Pennington, and I look upon Pennington as my home."
"Yes; but surely you will not stay here. It cannot be right for a man to idle away his time as you are idling it; besides, you can never win back Pennington thus. If I were you I would find work, and I would honourably make my way back to fortune."
"But the Tresidders will not allow me," I replied, stung into shame by her words, "they have always put obstacles in my path."
"Then I would go where the Tresidders could not harm me," she cried, and then she went away, as though I were the merest commonplace stranger, as indeed I was.
I mused afterward that she did not even tell me her name, although she had no means of knowing that I had found it out, neither did she tell me that she would keepthe secret of my hiding-place from my enemies. And more than all this, she bade me leave St. Eve, where I should be away from her, although my longings grew stronger to stay by her side. All this made me very weary of life, and I went back to the mouth of the cave and sat watching the sea as it rose higher and higher around "The Spanish Cavalier," and wondered with a weary heart what I should do.
When night came on Eli Fraddam brought me food, and sat by me while I ate it, looking all the while up into my face with his strange wild eyes.
"Jasper missuble," he grunted, presently.
"Yes, Eli," I said, "everything and everybody is against me."
"I knaw! I knaw!" cried Eli, as though a new thought had struck him, "I'll 'elp 'ee, Jasper; I'll vind out!"
"Find out what, Eli?"
But he would not answer. He hugged himself as though he were vastly pleased, and laughed, in his low guttural way, and after a time took his departure.
When I was left alone, I tried to think of my plans for the future, for Naomi's words kept ringing in my ears, "If I were you I would find work, and I would honourably make my way back to fortune." I saw now that for a year I had acted like a madman. Instead of meeting my reverses bravely, I had acted like a coward. I had sunk in the estimation of others as well as in my own. I had loafed around the lanes, and had made friends with the idle and the dissolute. Even my plans for vengeance were those of a savage. I, Jasper Pennington, could think of no other way of punishing my enemies than by mastering them with sheer brute force.Besides, all the time I had made no step toward winning back my home, and thus obeying my father's wishes. I felt this, too; I had deservedly lost the esteem of the people. I had become what the Tresidders said I was. I saw myself a vagrant and a savage, and although my fate had been hard, I deserved the punishment I was then suffering. I had forgotten that I was a Pennington, forgotten that I was a gentleman.
But what could I do? Houseless, homeless, friendless, except for the friendship of Eli Fraddam and his mother, and practically outlawed, what was there that I, Jasper Pennington, could put my hand to? I could not tell. The possibility of honourably making my way back to fortune seemed a dream impossible to be fulfilled.
For a long time I sat brooding, while the candle which Eli had brought burnt lower and lower, and finally went out. The darkness stirred new thoughts within me. Hitherto I had not troubled about Granfer Fraddam's ghost haunting the cave. The wind which wailed its way up through the cave till it found vent in the copse above explained the sounds which had been heard. But now all the stories which I had heard came back to me. Did Granfer Fraddam die there? and did his ghost haunt this dreary cavern? Even then I might be sitting on the very spot where he had died.
I started up and lit another candle. I looked around me, and shuddered at the black, forbidding sides of the cavern, then leaving the candle to cast its ghostly light around I crept toward the entrance. I saw the sea lapping the black rocks around, and heard its dismal surge. Then I heard a rushing noise whir past me, and it seemed as though a ghostly hand had struck my face. Directly afterward I heard a cry which made the bloodrun cold in my veins. Most likely it was only a seagull which I had frightened from its resting-place among the rocks, but to me it was the shriek of a lost soul.
Trembling, I found my way back to the cave again, where the candle still burnt, and cast its flickering light around. I was afraid to stay there any longer, and determined to get out by way of the copse. I had gone but a few steps in this direction, when I saw what had hitherto escaped my notice. It was a hole in the side of the cave, large enough for anybody to pass easily. For a moment curiosity overcame my fears, and I made my way toward it. Holding my candle close to the hole, I found that I was out of the current of air, and I saw that this was the entrance to another cave. But it was different from the one in which I had been hiding. It looked as though it had been hollowed out by the hands of man rather than by nature. This fact lessened my ghostly fears, and I entered it, and in doing so thought I detected a strange smell. A minute later, and my astonishment knew no bounds. Lying at my feet in this inner cave were casks of spirits and wines. There were, I afterward discovered, many other things there too. There were great packages of tobacco, and bales of stuff which at that time I did not understand. It was evident that Granfer Fraddam's trade was not abandoned, although it was thought that smuggling was not carried on to any extent in the neighbourhood of St. Eve. It is true that many things were obtained in the neighbourhood which the Preventive officers could not account for, but that was understood to be owing to Jack Truscott's gang, who defied the law, and did many wild deeds down by the Lizard and at Kynance. At Polventor the Preventive men were very keen, so keenwere they that the dozen or two fishermen who lived there were not, as far as I knew, in any way suspected of unlawful deeds. And Polventor was the only fishing village within three miles of our parish where it seemed possible for smuggling to be carried on.
Not that we thought hardly of the smugglers, even of Jack Truscott and his men. We all regarded the law as very unjust, and owing to the fact that many things were obtained in the parish very cheaply by them, we winked at their doings, and looked sourly on the Preventive men and their doings. At the same time, as far as I knew, no one dreamed of smuggling being carried on near the coast of St. Eve. Thus it was that Granfer Fraddam's Cave was a mere tradition, and many people thought that the King's officers ought to be removed to some other part of the coast, where there would be some necessity for their existence.
I thought long of these things, and presently came to the conclusion that this cave was used as a kind of storage-place by some smuggler's gang. Probably this was one of Jack Truscott's many hiding-places, and would be used by him when the Government spies were busy watching elsewhere.
Anyhow, my discovery made me think of the cave more as the home of the living than the dead, and thus fears were dispelled. It is true my solitude might at any time be broken by a gang of desperate men, but that did not trouble me. So I fetched the blanket which old Betsey had lent me and took it into this inner cave, and after a while went to sleep.
Eli Fraddam brought some food to me again in the morning, but I did not tell him what I had discovered through the night, neither did I encourage him to stay.Usually he had sat with me for hours, and had talked with me in his strange disconnected way, but this morning he saw that I wanted to be alone, so, after patting and fondling my hands lovingly, he left me. All through the day I tried to make up my mind what to do, but no feasible plan came into my mind. I did not fear any difficulty in getting food and clothes, but how to raise money to buy back Pennington I knew not.
Toward evening I left the cave and clambered down the rocks until I got to the beach. I had scarcely done so when a package lying by a rock caught my eye. I tore off the wrapper, wondering what it was, and soon discovered that it contained food. I eagerly examined it, and presently saw a scrap of clean white paper. On it was written these words:
"To stay where you are must be useless. Search has not been abandoned, for you have been seen. There can be no hope of success while you remain in St. Eve. You saved me, and I would help you. Good-bye."
"To stay where you are must be useless. Search has not been abandoned, for you have been seen. There can be no hope of success while you remain in St. Eve. You saved me, and I would help you. Good-bye."
Now this comforted me greatly, for it told me that Naomi Penryn had not forgotten me, and that she felt friendly toward me. The food, delicate as it was compared with what I had been eating, I cared not for, except only because she had brought it. My excitement took away all desire to eat, and again I went back to the cave to think of what I should do. For this thought came constantly into my mind, the Tresidders intended her for Nick, and my determination was that she should never marry a Tresidder. Moreover, I fancied, from her own words, and from what I had heard Richard Tresidder say to his son, she was not happy at Pennington. If I went away I should be powerless to help herif she needed help. She was but a girl of eighteen, and she was wholly under the control of the Tresidders. Yet how could I help her by remaining where I was; nay, rather, it was impossible for me to do this.
After some time I settled on a plan; I would leave my cave before it was light, and would walk to Fowey. When there, I would try and get a place as a sailor. I thought I knew enough of a sailor's duties to satisfy the captain of a trading ship. Then, by the time the first voyage was over, I should no longer be sought by the Tresidders, and the affair at Falmouth would be forgotten. I would then come back and see if Naomi Penryn needed help. I should not be away more than a few months, and I did not think that Nick Tresidder or his father would seek to carry out their plans concerning her for at least a year.
I had scarcely settled this in my mind when I heard voices outside the cave. Wondering what it might mean I crept to the opening, and, looking out, saw Richard Tresidder and his son, Nick, standing and talking with two Preventive men. A great rock hid me from their sight, besides which I was at least twelve feet above them.
"You say you've searched all around here for a cave?" asked Richard Tresidder.
"All round, sur," replied one of the officers. "Ther's smugglin' done 'long 'ere right 'nough, but I've my doubts 'bout Granfer Fraddam's Caave as et es called. Ther's not an inch 'long the coast here that we 'ain't a-seed; we've found lots of caaves, but nothin' like people do talk about. As for this cove, where people say et es, why look for yerself, sur, ther's no sign of it. We can see every yard of the little bay here, butas fer Granfer Fraddam's Caave, well, that's all wind, I'm a-thinkin'."
"I'm of the same opinion myself. Still, I thought we'd better come and make sure, that was why I asked you to come."
"That's oal right, sur, glad are we to do anything to 'elp 'ee. But ther's plaaces furder down, sur, and they must be watched."
"Do you not think you are mistaken?" I heard Richard Tresidder say; "there has been no smuggling done here since Granfer Fraddam's days. There is plenty of it done at the Lizard, and at Kynance, and right down to St. Michael's Mount to Penzance Harbour, but there is none here."
"But there es, Maaster Tresidder. Not a week agone a boat-load of sperits was landed at Polventor."
"At Polventor! Why, I thought you kept a sharp look-out there. Besides, only fisher folk live there."
"'Iss, but tes they fishermen that do do et. Ye see, they go out so they zay to catch fish, and then afore mornin' they do come across the big smugglers' boats, and taake the things to the coves they do know 'bout. They be all of a piece, Maaster Tresidder."
"Well, keep a sharp look-out, Grose, and bring them before me, and I'll see that they don't do any more smuggling for a few months."
"I'm glad we've 'ad this 'ere talk, sur, you bein' a majistraate. But we must be off, sur."
"Good-afternoon. By the way, if you call at Pennington to-night about ten I shall be glad to see you. You will perhaps be able to report progress by that time."
"Thank 'ee kindly, sur. Good afternoon."
Richard Tresidder and his son Nick then sat down on a rock near, and both began to smoke, and then, when the Preventive officers were out of sight, they laughed merrily.
"I wonder if they know that the grog they have drunk at Pennington was made of smuggled brandy?" asked the father.
"Not they. Why, you are noted for your hardness on law-breakers."
"Just so. By the way, you have heard no more about Jasper, I suppose? I heard last night he was hiding in Granfer Fraddam's Cave, that was why I got those fellows to search for the place."
"Nothing definite. It's believed that he's around here somewhere, but where I don't know. The fellow is mad, I think. It would be better for him to clear off altogether. The sentence is a flogging and then another trial, isn't it?"
"Yes; but nothing is being done. I believe if he were caught he would be allowed to go free. I don't believe they want to catch him."
"You see, the people think he's been badly treated, and Lawyer Trefry has blabbed about old Pennington's will. Everybody says now that you've done your utmost to keep him poor. Why in the world didn't grandmother get him to give it you out and out? If the beggar should have a stroke of luck he might get it for a few thousands."
"But where can he get them now? His last chance is gone. What can a lad, without money, home, or friends, do? That's settled all right."
"I don't know about that. He's clever and he'sdetermined. Why did he continue to stay around here? He must have something in his mind."
"He's a fool, that's all. He has a savage sort of idea that by watching me he's taking care of his own interests. That shows what a short-sighted fellow he is. If he'd brains he'd have acted otherwise. You will see, he'll get himself in the clutches of the law again, and then—I'll manage him."
"But if we can't find him? I tell you Jasper isn't a fool, and he knows our purposes by this time."
"Well, Nick, you've got your chance. A rich wife and three years to win her in, my boy. I'm her guardian till she's twenty-one, and I'll take care no one else gets her. A pretty girl is Naomi, too; rather awkward to manage, and a bit fiery, but all the better to suit you."
"And she doesn't like me," replied Nick.
"Make her like you, my boy. Be a bit diplomatic, and play to win. Besides, you must win!"
"Did you notice how funny she was last night? I asked her where she had been, and she seemed to regard my question as a liberty. And did you see how eager she was when we were talking about Jasper afterward?"
"But she knows nothing about him. She never saw him."
"Yes, she saw him pilloried in Falmouth. She thinks him treated badly. She has all sorts of funny ideas about justice."
"Of course, all silly girls have; that's nothing. At the same time, Nick, this shows you must play carefully. I don't want any complications in getting her money, and mind you, that money I must have, or we are all in deep water."
"What do you mean?"
"This. We can't raise sixpence, that is legally, on Pennington. There are simply the rents. Well, this split up into several parts is very little. So—" he hesitated.
"So what?" asked Nick, eagerly.
"I've speculated."
"On what?"
"On mines. So far, they've turned out badly. I'm involved in a heavy outlay. At first the affair seemed certain. It may turn out all right now, I don't know, but I tell you I'm neck deep—neck deep. I can hold on for a year or so, and you must get Naomi's money, or I'm done for."
"But you've got her money?"
"Yes, and, as her guardian, I'll have to give an account of it."
"Look here, father, tell me all about it. I don't like acting in the dark. How and why did Naomi come to Pennington, and what is the true condition of affairs? I want to know."
"Another time, Nick."
"No, now."
"Very well, I may as well tell you now."
Richard Tressider slowly filled his pipe again, and seemed to be collecting his thoughts before telling his son what was in his mind.
"Her home, as you know, is at Trevose, not far from Trevose Head," he said, presently. "The house is a funny old place—as lonely as a churchyard and as bleak as a mountain peak. It seems a strange idea to build a big house like that on a rocky eminence, but the Penryns have always been a strange people. However, it is said that the Penryn who built the house back in Oliver Cromwell's days kept ships for strange purposes, and that he had curious dealings with 'gentlemen of fortune.'"
"Pirates do you mean?"
"Better let them be unnamed. Anyhow, from the tower of the house you can see many miles up and down the coast—as far as Bude Harbour on the one hand, and Gurnard's Head on the other. There is some very good land belonging to the estate, too."
"Much?" asked Nick.
"More than belongs to Pennington by a long way, my boy. The rents are handsome, I can assure you."
"Well, go on."
"The Penryns have always been a hot-tempered, impatient race, and Naomi's father was no exception to the rule. He was the only child, too, and from what I can gather spoiled. Well, he waited until he was over thirty before he got married; indeed, both his parents were dead before he saw Naomi's mother. By the time a man is thirty his habits are settled, and he's generally unfit for marriage; people should marry at twenty-five at latest."
"And who was Naomi's mother?"
"She was a widow of a cousin of mine, George Tresidder of Lelant."
"Well?"
"Well, she had what most women possess, a nasty, rasping, irritating tongue, and a temper that would have done credit to Beelzebub's wife, if there is such a lady. I know that, because I've had several interviews with her. I've managed a good many women in my day, but never one who was so difficult as she. Anyhow, John Penryn and she lived a cat-and-dog life. John, I suppose, was a fine fellow in his way, but imperious, impatient, and at times unreasonable. He couldn't bear being crossed, and she was everlastingly crossing him. He was the soul of generosity, and directly after his marriage made a most generous will. He left everything unconditionally to his wife."
"Go on, you are awfully slow," cried Nick.
"They had been married about seven months when a terrible thing happened. You were very young at the time, and would, of course, know nothing about it. Penryn had a fearful quarrel with his wife. It was simply terrible, and the servants were very much frightened, especially as John's wife was expected to becomea mother. Anyhow, she taunted him with being unfaithful to her, and irritated him so with invective and abuse that, forgetting everything, he tried to crush her by brute force. Of course, in her state this was a mad thing to do, especially as she was very weak and delicate; anyhow, she fell like one dead on the floor. A doctor was sent for, and he declared that life was extinct. I suppose the poor fellow's anguish was terrible; anyhow, when he heard of the doctor's words, he seemed to lose his senses altogether. That night he committed suicide."
"Suicide! Whew!" cried Nick.
"Yes; he threw himself over the cliffs at Trevose Head. When his body was discovered it was much bruised and battered. Of course the affair was hushed up, and it was made out to be an accident, but no one was deceived."
"But about the woman?"
"Well, I suppose she lay like one in a trance for some considerable time, and it is said that all arrangements were made for her funeral. Presently, however, she gave signs of life, and in course of time Naomi was born."
"And the mother lived?"
"My dear Nick, you'll find that it'll take a great deal to kill a woman. Yes, she lived and enjoyed a fair amount of health. I suppose, too, that her conduct improved, at least I was told so; still, as I said, I found her difficult to manage."
"But you did manage her?"
"When I set my mind on a thing I generally do get my own way; but I think it would have been impossible in this case but for mother."
"What, granny?"
"Yes, she took the matter in hand, and together we got on fairly well."
"Yes, but by what means did you establish a claim on her sympathies? She had other relations!"
"It would take a long time to tell. Indeed, it has been a work of years. I've had to visit Trevose many times, and have suffered more abuse than I care to tell about. However, before she died the will was made all right."
"How?" asked Nick, eagerly.
"Well, in this way. Everything is given to Naomi, and I am constituted her sole guardian. She cannot marry until she's twenty-one without my consent."
"I see."
"If she dies everything comes to me."
"What!"
"Yes, mother worked that. I despaired of reaching that point; but you know what your granny is. She pleaded that I was a cousin, and a hundred other things. Besides, mother has a strange power over people."
"Then it seems to me everything is safe."
"Yes, if matters go right. She is now eighteen; if you marry her before she's twenty-one all's well, but if not, then when she arrives at that age the lawyer who has to do with the estates will naturally want everything accounted for. Naomi's a sharp girl, and I shall have to give an account of my stewardship."
"Her mother was a Catholic, I suppose?"
"Yes, that was a difficult point. Still we promised that Naomi's religious views should not be interfered with, and also that a priest shall visit the house occasionally."
"He will want her to marry a Catholic."
"Undoubtedly; but, honestly, I don't believe Naomi troubles about the fine distinction in religious beliefs. The priest wanted to persuade her mother that the child ought to be placed in Mawgan Convent, and her property given to the Church. I thought once the wily rascal would have succeeded, but fortunately mother was in the house at the time."
They sat for some little time without speaking; then Richard Tresidder spoke again.
"You are a bit in love with her, arn't you, Nick?"
"More than a little bit, and she knows it, too."
"Well, be careful, my boy, be very careful. If we can get Trevose—well, it's a nice thing, isn't it? But we must be careful. You are no fool, Nick; Naomi has her little weaknesses like other folks; find 'em out and humour 'em. Now you know how things are, and we must be going or we shall be caught by the tide. There'll be a high tide to-night, too."
Then they went away, leaving me to think over what they had said, and I must confess that my mind was much disturbed by their words. I do not pretend to have the lawyer-like power of seeing where many things lead to, but I did see, or rather I fancied I saw, the meaning of the conversation I had heard, and which, according to the best of my ability, I have faithfully described. I saw that Naomi was brought to this house because of her money. I saw, too, that every sort of pressure would be brought to bear upon her to make her marry Nick Tresidder, and I felt assured that did not fair means succeed, foul ones would be used. And what troubled me most was that I could do nothing. Evidently the Tresidders were still searching for me, and,if I were caught, they would, in spite of the friends I still possessed, try to render me more helpless than ever.
Besides, how would the poor, helpless maid be able to resist the pleadings of Nick Tresidder, backed up as they would be by the cunning and stratagem of the woman who had caused my grandfather to disinherit his own son? These questions, as may be imagined, greatly exercised my mind, so much so that I forgot all about my plans to travel through the night to Fowey and to try and get a berth as a sailor on a trading vessel.
Presently night came on, and I felt faint and weak. Then I remembered that I had eaten nothing for many hours, and so I turned with great gladness of heart to the food which I believe Naomi had brought with her own hands to the rocks which stood at the foot of the cliff under the mouth of my hiding-place. When I had eaten I went into the inner cave, and lay a-thinking again and again of what I must do. I recalled to mind the words that had passed between Naomi and me, of the joy I had felt when she was by my side, and especially of the time when I held her hands in mine; and then I thought of what I had heard spoken between Tresidder and his son, and not being, as I have said, quick at thinking, my mind presently became a blank, and I fell asleep.
How long I slept I know not, but I was awoke by the sound of voices, and of footsteps near me, but the first thing of which I have a clear recollection was a kick on the shin, and a voice saying, "Bless my soul 'n body, what es this?"
I jumped to my feet and saw two men before me in rough seamen's clothes, and with high jack-boots. I did not know them at all, and so I concluded that theywere strangers to our part of the county. They were not altogether ill-favoured men, although I could not help feeling that there was a kind of reckless expression on their faces which was not common among Cornish fisherfolk.
"And who might you be?" asked one presently, after staring at me for some time as if in blank astonishment.
By this time I had mastered the amazement which for the moment had overcome me, and had surmised who they were. Undoubtedly they were the smugglers who infested the coast, and who knew the secret of Granfer Fraddam's Cave. Probably they belonged to Jack Truscott's famous gang, and had brought a cargo of goods that very night. I heard the swish of the waves rushing up the cave, so I knew the tide was high.
I measured the men, too, from a wrestler's standpoint, and calculated their strength from the size of their bare arms, and the breadth of their chests. All the fear that had come into my heart left me. Living men did not frighten me.
"I might as well ask who you are," I replied coolly.
"Oh, tha's yer soarts, es et? Well, I think we may, so we'll tell 'ee, es you'll never go out of this 'ere place a livin' man."
"Never go out a living man. Why, pray?"
"Well, 'cos you do knaw too much, tha's why. This caave es wot you call convainient. See, matey? Well, ef other people wos to knaw 'bout et, twudden be convainient."
"I quite understand. You are smugglers, and wreckers most likely. Perhaps even worse than that. Perhaps you belong to Jack Truscott's gang. Ah, I seeyou do. Well, your idea is to kill me because I have found your hiding-place."
"That's ev et. Generally we be'ant cruel men, we be'ant. But some things must be done. You zee, dead men kip their saicrets well; livin' ones do'ant. You be a curyus-looking cove, ragged 'nough for a vuss cutter, but you be'ant owr soart."
"No," I said, coolly, "I'm not your sort."
"And you'd splet on us the fust fair chance you got, I spect?"
"Probably."
"Well, that settles et, and so—" He drew his finger across his throat significantly.
I must confess that a curious sensation came into my heart; but I did not betray any fear, and after a few seconds I was able to speak steadily.
"You've done that kind of thing before, I expect?" I said, watching the spokesman's face closely.
"Sam have done et a vew times," he said, looking significantly at his companion, "I do'ant do et oftener than I can 'elp."
The man called Sam grinned, as though he was proud of his distinction.
"In cold blood?" I queried. I kept on asking these questions, because I wanted to gain time. I had heard of many bloody deeds being done off the Lizard, but, as I said, the coast of St. Eve had been regarded as quiet and free from violent men and violent deeds ever since Granfer Fraddam died.
"We'd ruther do et in hot fight," said the man, with a curious twitch of his lips, "a good bit ruther. Etdocome aisier that way; but there, we ca'ant allays pick and choose."
I have not inserted the epithets with which they garnished their words, neither can I describe the careless way in which they spoke of murder. But in my heart came a great loathing for them, and a desire to be even with them.
Both of them stood between me and the outer cave, one of them holding a smuggler's lantern in his hand, and the man called Sam whispered something in the other's ear.
"Do you knaw what Sam's bin sayin'?" said the smuggler to me presently.
"No."
"He ses, 'Bill Lurgy,' ses 'ee, 'tha's a daicent fella, an' we do'ant want to cut hes windpipe. Git 'im to jine us.'"
"To join you!" I said with a sneer, for I thought of Naomi just then.
"Oh, I zee. I thot zo. Well, then, that settles et."
"Settles what?"
"This business. You zee, we mus' be olf. I spoase you knaw oal 'bout this caave?"
"Yes."
"Saicret way out?"
I nodded.
Sam took a huge knife which hung in a sheath by his side.
"I'm right sorry for this, matey," said Bill Lurgy. "If you'd a promist to jine us, we cud a kipt 'ee ere till the Cap'n comed, an' then 'ee might 'ave tooked 'ee on. Besides, ther's a special cargo comin' in d'reckly, defferent to this," he added, looking at the ankers of spirits in the cave; "in fact, it's a fortin to we pore chaps."
"And I'm to be killed?" I said.
"You mus' be. Sam Liddicoat 'll 'ave to do et," he said, as coolly as though I were a chicken he intended to kill for a dinner.
"Then I tell you, I'm not," I said, quietly.
"How be 'ee goin' to git away, my sonny? It's 'bout wawn o'clock in the mornin' now. Nobody 'll come 'ere but chaps like we."
I made a leap at Sam Liddicoat suddenly, and struck him a stunning blow, which sent him with great force against the side of the cave. Then I turned to Bill Lurgy. My idea was to master him before Sam should recover, and then escape up the secret way to the copse. Bill leapt on me like a mad bull. "Oa, tha's yer soarts, es et?" he cried. "Well, I zed I'd ruther do et in 'ot fight."
I had not been struggling with Bill Lurgy more than a few seconds before I had mastered him. As I said, the Penningtons are a large race, and Bill Lurgy, strong man as he was, became but a child in my hands. He went on the floor of the cave with a thud, and then I fastened my hands around his throat. I felt mad at the moment, and, remembering that time, I can quite understand how men, when driven to extremities, can forget the sacredness of human life. But in mastering Bill I had forgotten Sam Liddicoat, whom I had struck down before he was aware of my intentions.
Hearing a sound behind me, I turned, and saw Sam with his knife uplifted. Whether I should have been able to save myself or no, I know not; I have sometimes thought it would have been impossible. Anyhow, Sam did not strike. He was startled, as I was, by a voice in the cave.
"No, Sam, no!"
We both turned and saw a man about fifty years of age. He was below the medium height, and although hardy and agile, apparently possessed no physical strength above the average. He had a large head, well shaped, while his features were clearly cut and, I thought, pleasing. His face, too, was cleanly shaved, and he was dressed with some amount of care. The only thing that was strange about him was the curious colour of his eyes. They were light gray, so light that sometimes they looked white.
He entered the inner cave as though he knew it well, and spoke very quietly.
"What, Sam," he said, in a honeyed voice, "wud you 'ave done a thing like that? Strick un down in a moment wethout givin' ev'n a chance to say hes prayers and to make hes paice, so to spaik? No, Sam; that wud never do!"
"He nearly killed me, cap'n," grunted Sam.
"Iss, an' what ef a did? Remember the Scripters, an' turn the other cheek, so to spaik."
By this time Bill Lurgy had got up, and, seeming to understand the situation, slunk to the entrance of the inner cave.
"An' wad'n you to blaame, too?" he said, turning to me. "Never be rash, young man, an' remember that a soft answer turneth away wrath."
I must confess that I was at a loss to understand this mild-spoken man, and had not Sam called him "Cap'n," I should have thought him one of those foolish people converted by the Methodists.
"Are you Cap'n Jack Truscott?" I asked.
"Well, and what if I be, sonny? Law, I bean'tpertikler, ye knaw. Spoase some people do call me Cap'n Jack Truscott, or spoase others do call me Jack Fraddam, what do I care? I'm a man as es friends weth everybody, my deear—tha's what I be. An' you, you be Jasper Pennington, who've been robbed of yer rights, my deear."
"How do you know?"
"How do I knaw? Oa, I pick up things goin' about. I do—lots ov things. I knawed 'ee as soon as I zee'd 'ee tackle they two chaps. Why, 'twud 'a' gone to my 'art for Sam to 'ave knifed 'ee, my deear. You was born to live a good ould age, and die in bed at Pennington, in the best room, my deear, with yer cheldern and grancheldern cal around 'ee, ould an' well stricken in eres. Tha's your lot, Maaster Jasper. Besides, I'm a man of paice, I be: I love paice 'n' quietness; I like love an' brotherly 'fection, I do!"
I looked at him again in amazement, for I had heard of deeds which Captain Jack Truscott had done that were terrible enough to make one's blood run cold. It was reported that he had a house in a gully which runs up from Kynance Cove, which was the meeting-place for the wildest outlaws of the county. Folks said, moreover, that he owned a vessel which hoisted a black flag.
"Ah, I zee, my deear," said Captain Jack, pathetically; "people 'ave bin 'busin' me. I allays 'ave bin 'bused, my deear, but I do comfort myself, I do, for what do the Scripters say?—'Blessed are they that are abused.' I ain't a-got the words zackly, but the mainin', my deear, the mainin' es right, and that's the chief thing, ed'n et, then?"
In spite of myself the man fascinated me. There was a mixture of mockery and sincerity in his voice, asthough he half believed in his pious sayings; moreover, he was very cool and collected. His white eyes wandered all over the cave, and exchanged meaning glances with the two men with whom I had been struggling, but I knew that he was watching me all the time. He must have known that he was in danger of being taken by the Preventive men, but he spoke with the calm assurance of an innocent man.
"Well," I said, "what do you intend doing with me? You are three to one, and I am unarmed."
"There you be spaikin' vexed now. Wha's the use of that?"
"No wonder, when your men were trying to kill me, and would, perhaps, if you hadn't come just then."
"No; they wouldn't, my deear. I was watching; I zeed the man they'd got to dail weth—fresh as paint, my deear, and shinin' like a makerl's back. Plenty of rail good fight; and I like that, though I be a man of paice, Jasper Pennington, my deear."
I waited for him to go on, and although I was much excited, and scarcely expected to live until morning, I managed to meet his white eyes without shrinking.
"Spoasing you go out, Bill and Sam, my sonnies," said Cap'n Jack. "Don't go fur away, my deears; we cudden bear that, could us, Jasper? Do 'ee smok' then, Jasper? I zee you do. Lots of baccy 'ere, an' pipes too. Well, this es oncommon lucky. Well, lev us load up, I zay."
Thinking it well to agree with him, I filled a pipe with tobacco and lit it while Cap'n Jack, with evident satisfaction, smoked peacefully. He sat opposite me, and I waited for him to speak.
"This ed'n bad bacca, es it, then?" remarked Cap'n Jack, after he had smoked peacefully for a few seconds.
"No," I replied; "as far as I'm a judge, it's very good." I spoke as coolly as I could, although to be truthful I might as well have been smoking dried oak leaves. I could not help realising that my case might be desperate. I had heard that Cap'n Jack's gang were governed by no laws, legal or moral, save those which this man himself made. If I failed, therefore, to fall in with his plans, in all probability Sam Liddicoat and Bill Lurgy would be called in to complete the work which they had attempted a little while before. I could not understand a smuggler, a wrecker, and probably a pirate with pious words upon his lips; the idea of a man whose hands were red with crime talking about peace, mercy, and loving-kindness was, to say the least, strange, and I could not repress a shudder.
After his remark about the quality of the tobacco Cap'n Jack continued puffing away in silence, occasionally casting furtive glances at me. The place was very silent, save for the swish of the waves, as they poured into the outer cave, and rolled the pebbles as they came. It was now past midnight, but the month being September, there would be no light for several hours.
At length Cap'n Jack looked at a huge silver watch, which he had taken from his pocket, and seemed to be making some mental calculations.
"Fine and loanly, ed'n et, Jasper?" he remarked.
"Very."
"This es a very loanly caave. I thot nobody knawed anything 'bout et, 'ciptin' our chaps and Betsey and Eli."
"Betsey?"
"Iss, aw Betsey do knaw everything. Besides, Granfer Fraddam was—you zee et do run in the family!"
I said nothing, but I called to mind many things I had heard Betsey say.
"Anything might be done 'ere, an' nobody the wiser," he said with a leer.
"Yes."
"But I'm a man of paice, I be. A stiddy, thinkin' sort ov man as you may zay. I shudden like for nothin' to 'appen to you, Jasper. Tha's wy I stopped 'em jist now. 'ow be 'ee thinkin' to git the money to buy back Pennington, Jasper? 'T'll be a stiff job, I tell 'ee."
I did not reply.
"I've 'eerd oal 'bout et, Jasper. Ah, I've knowd they Tresidders for a good long while. Deep, deep, sonny, you ca'an't git 'em nohow. Besides, 'twas 'ard that you shud zee thicky purty maid for the fust time when you was covered with mud, and egg yuks, and fastened on to that gashly thing, wad'n et then?"
I gave a start, and I felt my face crimson.
"I shud like to be a friend to 'ee, Jasper, I shud. Betsey 'ave told me 'bout 'ee, and I like 'ee, Jasper. Besides, I'm allays a friend to the oppressed I be, allays. I shud like to put 'ee in the way of spitin' theyTresidders, and buyin' back the 'ome that es rightfully yours, that I shud. Now, Jasper, my sonny, I could put 'ee in the way of gittin' 'nough in a year or two to get yer oan. A clain off chap like you, with schullership, one as can read ritin' an' knows figures like, why, you could, with a bit of tittivatin', git on anywhere, that is, with the blessin' of Providence, so to spaik."
"How?" I asked.
"Put yerself in my 'ands, Jasper."
"You mean become a smuggler, a wrecker, and a general law-breaker."
"Law?" cried Cap'n Jack. "Now what's law, Jasper? Es et fair now? The law 'ave put you in a nice pickle, and tho' Pennington ought to be yours, an' the Barton ought to be yours, an' shud be yours ef I, a fair an' honest man, cud 'ave the arrangin' ov things, they've been tooked from 'ee by law. An' you might wait till you was black an' blue, and the law wudden give et back. What 'ave you got to do with law? Well, dodgin' the Preventive men is 'ginst the law, I know et, but what ov that? You c'n make a bit ov money that way—a good bit, Jasper. In three year or so, with me to 'elp 'ee, you cud git 'nough to buy back Pennington, there now."
"And what do you offer?" I asked.
"I'll take 'ee on, tha's what I'll do. I'll taich 'ee a vew things. I'll make a man ov 'ee, Jasper. You are a vine big man, sonny, a match for two ord'nary men, with schullership, an' a knowledge of figgers thrawed in. You'd zoon be my 'ead man, an' do a big traade."
"If smuggling were all," I stammered.
"Tha's oal I ask ov 'ee, Jasper. A bit ov smugglin'. But spoase you doan't. Well, look at that now.Spoase you doan't now. Nick Tresidder 'll git that maid es sure as eggs—while you—"
"I shall be murdered, I suppose."
"Jasper, I never like violence on a eldest son. It do main bad luck, my deear, es a rule; still we've got to go 'ginst bad luck, sometimes. But for the fact of your bein' the third of the family of the same naame—"
"More than the third," I interrupted.
"More than the third ef you like, my deear, but you be the third, an' oal the world do knaw it's a bad thing to kill a man who's the third of the same naame. But for that I mightn't 'ave come in time. You zee, Jasper, I'm a religious man, do send a present to the passon every year for tithes, I do."
At that time I did not believe in Cap'n Jack's words, but afterward I found that all his gang were afraid to do that which was considered unlucky. All Cornish people, I suppose, have heard the rhyme about killing an eldest son who is the third in succession to bear the same christened name. I know, too, that Cap'n Jack believed implicitly in the legend, and I have heard him repeat it very solemnly, as though he were repeating a prayer at a funeral, while his gang became as solemn as judges. And I have little doubt now that the jargon which I will write down—for I who have had a fair lot of schooling do call it jargon—had a great deal to do with saving me from Sam Liddicoat's knife.