CHAPTER XIX
At Half-mast
For once Mrs. Penruddock was mistaken in her calculations. Bevis did notcome back. His supper waited in the oven, and his room over the kitchenwas ready, but the potatoes were spoilt, and his bed was never slept in.Nobody in Chagmouth had seen anything of him, and all inquiries were invain. Day after day passed without bringing news of the truant. WhenMavis and Merle motored over with Dr. Tremayne on the following Saturdaythey found sad trouble at Grimbal's Farm.
"It's not like Bevis," proclaimed Mrs. Penruddock. "He's never treatedus in this way before. To run off without a word when he'd know wellenough we'd take his part even if there was a little trouble with TheWarren. We thought he might have gone to his school, and we telegraphedto the headmaster, but they'd seen nothing of him. We're afraid thesilly lad must have tramped to Port Sennen, and got on some vesselthere. If that's so goodness knows where he may be by now, or when weshall have a letter from him. If we could only be sure he was all rightwe shouldn't mind so much. It's this waiting that wears one out. Youngfolks don't think of all it means to their elders when they do thesethings. I can't sleep at nights for worrying. The place doesn't seem thesame without Bevis. Such a good lad he's always been too."
Mrs. Penruddock's pleasant face looked quite puckered, and there was achoke in her voice which she had to cough away. She was busier thanusual, and hurried off into the dairy to serve customers who came fortheir Saturday portions of scalded cream. (Chagmouth people could noteat their Sunday tea without jam and cream on their bread.) She missedher foster-son's help with the poultry, and in many other matters. Hehad never shirked work on the farm, and had always been ready to lend astrong hand when she needed it.
Mavis and Merle, strolling round the stackyard, agreed with her. Theplace was certainly not the same without Bevis. It seemed very slack andslow indeed now he was gone. To kill time before lunch, while Dr.Tremayne saw his patients in the surgery, the girls took a walk down thetown towards the beach. Midway in the quaint steep street there was aspot railed off where people could sit on benches and look out over thesea. It was a favourite lounge, and two or three old fishermen weregenerally there discussing catches and tides, or the village invalidswere sunning themselves and collecting local news. In the middle stood aflagstaff where the Union Jack was kept flying. To-day as the Ramsayspassed this observation point they noticed that the flag was athalf-mast.
"I wonder what's the matter?" said Merle.
"I don't know. Somebody dead, I suppose, and we haven't heard yet. Ihope it's not the King! Shall I ask?"
"Yes, do. Ask that old man!"
"Oh, I daren't! You do!"
Merle, having more courage with strangers, made the necessary inquiry.The blue-jerseyed individual whom she addressed pulled his pipe from hismouth and grunted a reply:
"It's General Talland as is gone. There was a telegram come this morningfrom the West Indies. He was only sixty-one. He ought to a' been goodfor another ten year or more."
"They do say the climate is awful over there," chimed one of theloungers, quite willing to discuss the event.
"Ay! He should a' stayed in his native air!"
Other listeners had strolled up and began to give their opinions.
"I don't hold with foreign parts myself."
"Not to live, though it's nice to see them."
"There's always fever about in those hot places."
"He'll be buried out there!"
"And his son was buried in India!"
"It seems as if the luck was against the family."
"Mr. Glyn Williams will be for buying the property now!"
"If he can get hold of it."
"It's what he's been after ever since he came here."
"Well, I suppose he'd make a better landlord than some."
Mavis and Merle were not remarkably interested in General Talland, sothey said "Thank you" for the information they had received, and walkeddown to the shore, where they amused themselves till it was time toreturn for lunch. When they got back to Grimbal's Farm, however, theyfound Mrs. Penruddock full of the news, which she had learnt from someof her customers.
"It seems trouble on trouble," she declared. "Everybody is saying thatMr. Glyn Williams will be sure to get hold of the estate now, and withour lease just falling in, and this business between Bevis and youngWilliams which they'll likely not forgive, we may be turned out of thefarm for all I know. I came here when I was married twenty-five yearsago, and Mr. Penruddock was born here. It would break our hearts to haveto go anywhere else."
"Oh, I hope it won't be as bad as that!" said Mavis consolingly.
At lunch-time the girls told Uncle David about the matter.
"Will Mr. Glyn Williams really buy the property?" asked Mavis.
"I don't think he can," replied Dr. Tremayne; "the estate's entailed."
"What's 'entailed'?" said Merle, looking puzzled.
"It's a legal term, which means that a property cannot be sold, but mustalways pass to the next heir in the male line, so that the owner reallyonly has a life interest in it."
"And who is the heir then?"
"A distant cousin of General Talland's, Mr. George Talland, a mostunsuitable man from all accounts. I believe he spends most of his timegaming at Monte Carlo. Very probably he will make the same arrangementas before with Mr. Glyn Williams, and will let him the The Warren andthe shooting. There's a possibility, though, that Mr. George Talland andhis son might 'cut the entail'. If owner and heir both agree to sell aproperty they can legally do so, and they might care to have the readymoney and settle up their debts rather than only the income of theestate."
"Pity General Talland hadn't a son to leave it to."
"Yes, poor Austin. He died in India. It must be fifteen years ago now.There was a persistent rumour at the time that he'd been privatelymarried out there, and had a son of his own, but no wife and child everturned up to claim his heritage, which they would most certainly havedone if they had existed. It was all gossip and hearsay. People love toinvent these stories, but when you come to sift them there's no truth inthem. I'm sorry the estate will go to the George Tallands. The son--alsoa George--has six daughters, but no son, so the male line comes to anend in that direction. That's why I fancy they may cut the entail--toget a little money for the girls. It seems a sad pity for an old familyto die out absolutely. There have been Tallands at Chagmouth from timeimmemorial. After the younger George goes, the name will become quiteextinct. Many of the old Devon families have died away like that forwant of heirs."
The troubles of the Tallands seemed to Mavis and Merle quite a minorbusiness, however, compared with the overwhelming misfortune of Bevis'srunning away. They did not quite know what to do with themselves afterlunch. They would have gone with Uncle David to the Sanatorium, but hewished to drive a patient up there, and had no room for them in the car.They might of course have gone to The Warren, where they had a generalinvitation to play tennis, but they hesitated, partly because they felta delicacy in going without being definitely asked and certain ofwelcome, and partly because after what had happened the week before theywere not very keen to meet Tudor. They could not forget the way he hadtaunted Bevis, and they had not yet forgiven him for it.
"Gwen would be sure to say something nasty about last Saturday,"ventured Merle, who had carefully avoided the Williamses at school onFrench days.
"I vote we go a walk by ourselves," decided Mavis.
So they set off, and instinctively their steps turned in the directionof their dismantled bower. They did not, however, choose the upper roadto it, which would have led them over the forbidden fence, but went thesame way as on their first visit, taking the footpath among the woods.Spring had come since they were there before, and had brought out theleaves, so that the sea was seen through a screen of greenery. Theprimroses were nearly over, but hyacinths were opening like a bluecloud, and great purple orchises were shooting up. In clumps at theedges of the cliff bloomed the pink thrift and white se
a-campion, andpatches of the yellow lady's-fingers. Merle thought she heard thecuckoo, though Mavis was certain it was only a little boy who wasanticipating the well-known call. They lingered and loitered for a longtime in the wood, picking flowers and hunting about for birds' nests,and wishing Bevis were there to find them for them. At last they leftthe trees behind, and coming out on to the headland reached the grassyplateau that jutted out from the sloping cliff.
The cave looked very dark and particularly "spooky" to-day. Merlepeeped timorously inside, and turned away shuddering. Mavis, more deeplyinterested, ventured farther. She had neither matches nor candle, andcould only trust to the faint twilight that reigned within. It seemed toher as if in a dark corner a heap of something was lying. She did notthink it had been there on their former visit. Wild thoughts ofsmugglers and contraband goods flashed into her mind. Were theresmugglers nowadays? Was it a bale of silk or a case of champagne thatwas being stored there for safety? With rather a fluttering feeling shecrept nearer. It was no case of wine or bale of silk; in the darkness itlooked more like a tumbled bundle of clothing. What could it be? She wasfrightened, and almost turned to go; but some attraction greater farthan curiosity seemed to draw her on. She was quite close to it now. Hereyes had grown accustomed to the dim light, and she could justdistinguish the sleeping figure of a boy, covered with a mackintoshcoat.
"Bevis!" she whispered. "Oh, Bevis!"
He roused at her voice, and sprang to his feet with a cry, turning toher such a white, haunted face that she scarcely knew him. Merle ranforward from the entrance, and seeing both the girls he came slowlytowards them.
"It's you, is it?" he said. "Have you brought the police with you?"
"Police! Why no, Bevis, of course not!"
"Why should we?"
He put his hand wearily to his head. His face was very pale, and hiseyes were bright and big with dark rings round them.
"No, you wouldn't bring them, I know, but they'll come all the same! I'mwanted. Wanted by the police. They're after me!"
"Oh, Bevis, don't talk like this! No police want you. Why don't you gohome?"
"Go home! Go to Chagmouth! His ghost would stop me! Tell me, where havethey buried him?"
"Buried whom?"
"Why, Tudor Williams of course--the poor boy that I murdered."
"But Tudor's all right. He wasn't really much hurt. He walked home."
Bevis stared searchingly at Mavis, then shook his head.
"I _know_ he's dead. It's no use telling me he isn't. I murdered him.Haven't I heard the bell tolling for his funeral? It never stops. I tellyou it never stops. I hear it night and day, and I feel like Cain!"
The girls glanced at one another. Bevis was plainly very ill. He lookedghastly, and his knees trembled so greatly that he had to lean againstthe wall of the cave.
"Where have you been all this week?" Mavis asked him.
"I don't know. Here mostly, I think. I thought I'd walk to Port Sennenand try to get on board a ship, but somehow I feel weak. Perhaps I couldget off to-night if I tried."
"Come home, Bevis," persuaded Merle.
But he sank down again on to the bed of leaves which he had made, anddrew the mackintosh coat over him.
"It's so cold," he shivered. "First I'm burning hot and then I'm cold.It's the curse of Cain!"
Mavis took Merle's arm, and drew her outside the cave.
"He's in a high fever, and simply raving," she whispered. "He's not fitto walk home even if we could get him to try. You go back to the farmand tell Mrs. Penruddock, and I'll stay here. We mustn't both leave himor he might wander off somewhere on to the cliffs. Be as quick as youcan."
"I shall run all the way," declared Merle. "Oh, the _poor_ boy. Think ofstaying here by himself the whole week."
Mavis went back into the cave, and kneeling down by Bevis tried tosoothe him. She had been ill so often herself that she could sympathizeas he shuddered and shivered. His hands were burning hot, and his greatdark eyes shone like fires in his white face. She told him over and overagain that Tudor was safe; but he scarcely seemed to understand, andkept moaning that he had murdered him.
"I'm not fit for any one to speak to. It's the curse of Cain," herepeated.
Meantime Merle, who was swift of foot and had won many long-distanceraces at school sports, flew back to Chagmouth with record speed, andcarried her news to Grimbal's Farm. Mrs. Penruddock was in the kitchen.She ran at once and called her husband from where he was working in theorchard.
"I'll put the horse in the trap," he said briefly. "We'll go by theupper road, and then slip across the fields to the cave. Best take hisovercoat and a rug."
Merle went with them, not that she could be of any special use, butbecause she simply could not stop behind, and after all she was able torender a service, for she held the horse while Mr. and Mrs. Penruddockhurried down the fields to the cave. They came back after a short timehalf-carrying Bevis along, with Mavis, looking extremely grave, walkingbeside them. They lifted him into the trap, and drove him home, meetingDr. Tremayne on the very doorstep.
The Doctor shook his head when he heard of the nights in the damp cave.
"Get him to bed, and we'll do our best," was his verdict. "He has youthand strength on his side at any rate. Please God we'll pull him roundagain. I've seen people worse than he is, Mrs. Penruddock, so keep yourheart up. While there's life there's hope, remember. That's a proverb Ialways tell my patients, and one of the best that was ever invented."
"I know, Doctor," gulped poor Mrs. Penruddock. "I know if anybody canpull him through, you will. But it's hard to see him looking like thisall the same--Bevis, who's hardly had a day's illness in his lifebefore."