CHAPTER THE TENTH
The Fire Bell at the Towers
Next day the escape of Jean Delarousse, smuggler and privateer, was thetalk of the countryside. The dragoons had called at the Towers androused the Squire from bed, supposing that he was a magistrate and wouldassist them. Then they rode for several miles across the moor untilthey came to Sir Bevil Portharvan's house. That gentleman promised toraise the hue and cry next day, and called up his servants to ask if anyof them had seen a carriage cross the moor that evening. The groomdeclared that as he rode back from an errand in Truro he had seen amoving light some distance to the left, concluding that it probablyproceeded from a belated carrier's cart on the way to Polkerran. Onthis the troopers galloped back, and seeing a light in the Dower Housethey called there and acquainted John Trevanion with their errand. Heguessed at once that the fugitive had been in the carriage which hadturned into his drive, and inwardly cursed his ill-luck in missing theopportunity of laying by the heels a man whose recapture would haverejoiced him; but having reasons of his own for not disclosing hisknowledge of the man, he forbore to mention the earlier incident, andcontented himself with wishing the pursuers success. When they had gonehe cloaked himself and followed them down the hill, being but a fewhundred yards behind Dick, whom he did not see in the darkness and thetwists and turns of the road.
There was not a man in the village but suspected that the Frenchman hadgot away on Tonkin's lugger; but not one of them would have said a wordto betray him. Delarousse was not an enemy, but a friend with whom theyhad profitable dealings. When Sir Bevil rode down and questionedDoubledick and others, it was clear to him from their manner that theywould give no information; and guessing, when he heard that Tonkin hadsailed early that morning, that the Frenchman had gone with him, he wasrather relieved than otherwise, for, like all the gentry around, hebought his liquor cheap, and was never depressed when the revenueofficers were outwitted.
Two days passed. Sam Pollex reported that there was a subdued air ofexcitement in the village. Mr. Polwhele, the riding-officer, was seenspeaking to Penwarden, and the revenue cutter, which had been absent forsome time, once more anchored in the little harbour. Mr. Mildmay didnot come ashore: he seldom did so during the smuggling season; but oneof his men trudged up the hill to Penwarden's cottage, and did notreturn. These facts made Dick tingle with excitement: but the Squirehad forbidden him to go near the smugglers again, so that he was unableto keep watch for the run which he, like everyone else in Polkerran,expected to take place.
On the third morning, when Dick was tramping over the cliff with his guntowards a cleft where he had heard that a pair of choughs had nested, hesaw Penwarden smoking on the bench beside his cottage door.
"Morning to 'ee, Maister Dick," he said.
"Good morning, Joe. You look very spry," replied Dick genially.
"Well, and I feel spry, to be sure. Haven't 'ee heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Why, how we brought up the smugglers wi' a round turn last night."
"Did you? Tell me about it, Joe. I wish I had seen it, but Fatherwon't let me out of the house at night now."
"Why for, maister?"
"Because I got home very late the other night, and he's afraid I shallget my head broken, I think, now that the folks are so set against us."
"'Tis a very wise commandment of the Squire. Well, I'll tell 'ee. Neverwas they so flambustered afore. When I seed _Isaac and Jacob_ goin' offso merry t'other morning, I guessed she wouldn't come back empty, thewind favourin' and all. So what do I do but put on my considerin'cap----"
"That means a pipe and a bowl of rum, doesn't it?" said Dick with alaugh.
"I won't say but it do. Thinks I, now where will they try to run theircargo? Tonkin went off in a 'nation hurry, and the reason o't you knowas well as I, but we won't speak o' that. There warn't time for him tofix up with the shoremen, leastways with many of 'em, afore he went, sothinks I, Zacky won't try to carry his kegs inland. What then? Why,she'd sink 'em somewheres off the coast, and let 'em lay till he gets achance o' liftin' 'em. I've knowed a crop o' goods lay for a monthafore they could be lifted."
"Doesn't it spoil the spirits?" asked Dick.
"It do, if the tubs lay too long. Then the spirits be stinkibus and fitfor nothing. Howsomever, they'll sink 'em, thinks I, and what's to bethe place? Well, I mind that ten year or more ago they dropped a bigcrop just beyond St. Cuby's Cove, and got 'em clean away in two nights,while Mr. Curgenven was playin' cat and mouse miles down the coast.Says I to myself, that's the very place."
"But how did you know it ten years ago?"
"By one or two things I noticed when I went a-rambling at foot ofcliffs; trifles I could hardly tell 'ee of. That's the very place, saysI, so I has a little talk with Mr. Polwhele, and he made it known to Mr.Mildmay, and betwixt us we hitched up a pretty scheme to circumvent 'em.And I was right, and wrong too, as you'll see.
"Well, we sent over to Plymouth for a half-troop of dragoons, and putthem in Penruddock's empty farmhouse on the moor yonder. They camequiet last night, and not a soul knowed about 'em. You see, 'twas onlymy calcerlation as Tonkin wouldn't try a run, and 'twas best to be onthe safe tack, as you may say. Wi' the dragoons on shore, and Mr.Mildmay at sea, we reckoned we'd spoil their game, whether 'twas sinkin'or runnin'. When 'twas dark, we brought the sojers down to shore, andput 'em among the rocks on each side of where I thought 'twould happen.I had a sort o' suspicion that the smugglers had a hiding-placesomewhere along shore thereabouts, though I'd never been able to findit."
"What made you suspect that?"
"Because we grappled for the sunk crop two days arter 'twas sunk, but'twas gone; yet 'twas more than a week arterwards afore the stuff wascarr'd into the country, so it must ha' been hid somewhere. Well, we hadwaited some hours, and the cutter had sailed away down the coast to put'em off the scent, when just afore six bells we heard the creakin' o'the lugger's gear, and I knowed I was right. At the same time thefellers come creepin' round the cliff from the village. 'Twas to be arun arter all. Our plan was to let 'em get warm to work, and not pounceon 'em till we'd seed where their hiding-place was. Mr. Mildmay meant tofetch about and come on 'em from seaward, while the sojers took 'em fromlandwards.
"Drown it all, 'twas ruined--ruined, I say; but 'twas not so bad as thatneither--'twas almost ruined, by a sappy landlubber of a sojer. Theunloadin' was goin' on as merry as you please when this soft stunpoll ofa chap let out a sneeze fit to blow yer gaff off. 'Twas all up then; nogood waiting for Mr. Mildmay; the smugglers' look-outs heard the tishumand gave the alarm. Mr. Polwhele blew his whistle for the attack, andwe pounced out from our lairs, sojers and tidesmen, and dashed upon 'emfrom two sides at once.
"Some of 'em dropped their tubs like hot taters, and slipped off in thedarkness. But the rest stood their ground like men, and there was atidy little tumble, pistols cracking, cutlasses flashing----"
"How could they flash in the dark?" said Dick.
"You could hear 'em if you couldn't see 'em, and I don't care who theman is, I call that flashin'. There was some pretty wounds dinted onboth sides, but as 'ee med think, the sojers' swordplay was a triflemore learned than the free-traders', and arter some time we King's mengot the better o't, and they couldn't stand against us no longer. Butthat sneeze: why couldn't the feller clap it under for five minutesmore? We catched nine of the smugglers, and laid them tied hand andfoot on the beach. But the rest got away, and drown it all, Tonkin wasone of 'em. I knowed un by his size, and a sojer and I and some morehad him betwixt us, but he let out with those sledge-hammer fists ofhis, spun a sojer this way and a tidesman that, and by long and shortbroke his moorings and swam out to the lugger. If that sneeze hadn'tcome so soon Mr. Mildmay would have been there with the cutter, and weshould ha catched the whole crew. But 'twas not to be. By the time thecutter fetched up, the lugger was well out to sea, and we lost her. Butwe've got the nine m
en, who'll have to choose betwixt gaol and theKing's service, and I've chalked the broad arrow on twenty-four tubs,which be now half-way to the King's store at St. Ives."
"And did you discover the hiding-place?"
"Chok' it all, we did not. Maybe there's no such thing. But 'twas aproper tit-for-tat for the knock they give me, and I reckon 'twill besome time afore they fly their colours again."
"'Tis the biggest haul you've ever made, isn't it?" asked Dick.
"We've got more tubs afore, but never so many men. I'm a deal morecheerful in my mind than I used to be. We are doing the King's workbetter in these parts than 'twas done in Mr. Curgenven's time, and Ihope them above will remember it."
Dick went on. He was pleased for the old man's sake that he was so wellsucceeding in his duty; but at the same time was full of misgiving as tothe hatred his energy would breed among the village folk.
When he returned later in the day from a vain quest for the choughs, SamPollex told him that the village was seething with rage, and everybodywas asking what had become of Doubledick. He was not among the nine menwho had been carted to Plymouth; search had been made for his dead bodyon the shore; it was known that he had been among the tub-carriers, butnobody had seen him since the fight.
The mystery was solved at nightfall. The inn-keeper, dressed as apeaceable fisherman, trudged into the village with a fat goose on hisback, and declared with a wink that he had been on a short visit to hisfriend Farmer Nancarrow, five miles distant. His cronies knew thatDoubledick had adopted this course as a blind to the revenue officers ifthey made an inquisitive visit to his inn. However strong theirsuspicions, they could not proceed against him with any chance ofsuccess. They were in the same difficulty in regard to Tonkin, whomnone could swear to, his face having been blackened. Nor could it beproved even that it was his lugger which had brought the cargo. Whenthe _Isaac and Jacob_ came into the harbour next day and was boarded bythe revenue officers, it contained nothing but a few hundredweight offish; and though grappling operations were conducted in St. Cuby's Cove,and for some distance on each side of it, no discovery of sunken tubswas made.
It was a fact, often remarked on in after days by the Polkerran folk,that the only spectator on the jetty when Tonkin's lugger putin--exclusive of the revenue officers, a toothless old fisher, IkePendry's sweetheart, and a handful of children--was Mr. John Trevanion.He seemed to be in the top of good humour; joked with Mr. Mildmay, gavethe old fisher a plug of tobacco, favoured Marty Bream with an admiringglance, and chucked the children under the chin. When the lieutenant'sexamination was concluded, and Tonkin came ashore, a free man, but undersuspicion, Mr. Trevanion had a word for him too, asked to see his catch,and bought some of the finest of the fish. Then with a nod to Mr.Mildmay he strolled with easy gait up the hill.
That Tonkin himself, an hour or two later, should carry his fish to theDower House was natural enough, but it was not perhaps quite so naturalthat, having delivered them to Susan for transmission to the cook, heshould have been asked to step into the house and taken to the master'sown room. Nor was it likely, when he was let out at the front door byMr. Trevanion an hour later, that the conversation which had passedbetween them in the interim had for its subject nothing but fish.Nobody in Polkerran knew of this visit, or some intelligent person mighthave suspected that it had a connection with a remarkable change thatcame about in the villagers' manner of regarding Monsieur JeanDelarousse. Hitherto they had looked upon him as a keen man ofbusiness, with whom it was as safe as it was honourable to have dealingsof a free-trade nature. But from that day they cherished a sourdistrust of him; they resolved to do business with him no longer, and totransfer their custom to another merchant of Roscoff, whose name is ofno importance in this history. In this transference they followed thelead of Tonkin, blindly--all but Doubledick, who swam with the current,indeed, so far as outward appearances went; but in the privacy of hisown cunning mind, buzzing still with the recollection of what he hadheard through the keyhole of his parlour door, indulged in speculationsof a very tantalising nature, and wondered what Maister John's littlegame was.
Whether the relation of cause and effect existed between this meeting ofTrevanion and Tonkin, and an event that took place a few hours later atthe Towers, is a matter on which the reader may presently form his ownconclusion.
Dick had gone to bed a little earlier than usual, tired out after a longtramp over the moor in search of wild fowl. His room faced the sea, andhe had left his window open, as his practice was except in stormyweather. In the dead of night he suddenly found himself awake, andwondered why, for he had not been dreaming, nor was he conscious ofhaving heard a sound. But in a few seconds he was aware of an unusualsmell, that appeared to be wafted through the window on the sea breeze.It was the smell of burning wood. He leapt out of bed, ran to thecasement, and looked out over a row of outhouses that extended for someyards from the dwelling towards the cliff. One glance was sufficient.The tool-house at the furthermost end was on fire.
Quickly pulling on his breeches, he ran to the adjoining room, occupiedby Sam, hauled the snoring boy from his bed, shook him vigorously, andcried--
"The tool-house is on fire! Run to the turret and pull the bell.Quick! The breeze is off the sea, and we shall have the whole place ina blaze."
Then he rushed to Reuben's room on the lower floor, wakened the old man,and told him to fill every bucket he could find with water from thewell. Lastly, he ran to his parents, breaking the news gently so as notto terrify his mother. By this time the alarm bell was clanging itsquick strokes out into the night.
Dick ran out of the house to the well-head near the dismantled stables,where Reuben already had two buckets filled and was still pumpingvigorously. He caught up the buckets, hurried to the conflagration, andflung the water on the flames. But it was clear that they had got sucha hold upon the shed that to extinguish them with water laboriouslypumped from the well would be impossible. The wind was steadilycarrying the fire toward the main building, and unless the blaze couldbe checked within a few minutes, the old place was doomed.
To fetch more water would, Dick saw, be a waste of time. What could bedone? Between the burning tool-shed and the dwelling-house was a longwooden structure that contained the brew-house and a shed in whichReuben kept vegetables, grain for the pigs, and other materials. Dickremembered that the brew-house, though substantially built, wasworm-eaten, and, like the rest of the Towers, had not been repairedwithin memory. Acting on an idea which had suddenly struck him, he ranat full speed to the scullery, brought thence a rope and, returning,made his way with it through the smoke into the brew-house, and attachedit firmly to one of the stout timbers supporting the roof.
The Squire had now come upon the scene.
"We must pull down the brew-house, Father," cried Dick. "'Tis the onlychance to prevent the flames from spreading."
Together they hauled upon the rope. The timber did not give an inch.They summoned Reuben to assist them, but the oak, worm-eaten though itwas, resisted their united efforts.
"Once more! Pull all together," cried Dick in despair. The post didnot move.
"Ha, Squire!" shouted a voice behind, "I see what you are about. 'Tis agood notion. Give me a hold."
"Polwhele, 'tis you. We'll be glad of your arm."
"Did you ride, sir?" cried Dick eagerly.
"I did," replied the riding-officer. "Egad! I see your meaning. Myhorse is hitched to the fence. I'll bring him in a second."
He ran off, returning soon with his horse, which pranced and snortedwhen it came within the smoke and heat. Mr. Polwhele and Dick knottedthe rope to the animal's collar, while the Squire covered its eyes withhis coat. They turned its head away from the flames, and smote itsflanks. It started forward, almost escaping from the grasp of Mr.Polwhele, who held it by the bridle. The post, already weakened by theprevious straining, gave at last, and a portion of the roof fell in witha crash. The same operation was performed on a similar p
ost in theopposite corner. This was brought down at the first pull, and all thatremained of the brew-house was a heap of laths, beams, tiles, and brokenutensils.
They proceeded then to smother the ruins with water and earth, paying noheed to the blazing tool-house. After some twenty minutes the flamesbegan to subside; they poured more water, as quickly as it could bedrawn, on the glowing ruins, and had the satisfaction of seeing that thedemolition of the brew-house had been effective. The fire spread nofurther; the Towers was saved.
Panting and perspiring with their exertions, the four men stood for awhile in silence, watching the gradual dwindling of the flames.
"That bell may stop," cried Mr. Polwhele suddenly. "'Tis well pulled,whoever is doing it, but to little good, it seems. 'Pon my soul, I'mthe only man that has come to its call."
"Ah! You see how things are with me," said the Squire bitterly. "Not asoul cares whether the Towers burns to the ground, and I and mine in it.I remember, forty years ago, when the place took fire, the bell broughtthe whole village to our help. Now they'll lie abed and laugh to thinkI'm homeless."
"'Tis a disgrace and a scandal," cried the riding-officer, "and I'lltell them so. The idiots, to suppose you would inform on them! I'llset that right, Squire; I blame myself for not doing it before, but Ibelieved they would come to their senses."
"You will waste your breath, Polwhele. Don't attempt it for me. Icould tell you one way to dash their enmity, but that's impossible."
"What is it?"
"Send John Trevanion where he came from. 'Tis he that is poisoningfolks' minds against us; yes, 'tis he."
At this point Dick returned from the house, whither he had been to stopthe ringing of the bell. Sam came with him.
"Now, young Sam," said his father wrathfully, "'twas you that startedthis blaze, I'll be bound, wi' yer mischief and jiggery. I'll leather'ee, that I will."
"Be choked if I did!" was Sam's indignant cry. "Why do 'ee say it,Feyther? You think because I break a dish now and again that I do allthe mischief, but I don't care who the man is, I hain't been nightool-house or brew-house this mortal day."
"Then who did it? Tell me that."
"I can't tell what I don't know, but if I med put a meanin' to it, I'dsay 'twas done by the same hands as cut our lines and set our boatadrift, be drowned to 'em."
"By heaven, I see it!" cried the Squire, smiting one fist with theother. "'Tis part of the scheme, Polwhele. They will stick at nothing.Penwarden caught young Tonkin cutting Dick's lines, as you know, and Ithrashed him. They avenge him by firing my house. I'll clap them injail; unpopular as I am, the justices can't refuse to punish such acrime."
"You've no proof, Squire," said Mr. Polwhele. "You can't arrest thewhole village on suspicion. And now I think of it, if it is as you say,there is no need to suppose your cousin is at the bottom of it. Youhave no proof."
The Squire was silent. Mr. Polwhele's view was no doubt that whichwould be taken by the majority of people. Mr. Trevanion was consciousof the weakness of his position, and regretted that in his impulsivenessand resentment he had spoken so freely. The only facts upon which hisconviction of his cousin's venomous treachery depended were the purchaseof the mortgages and the subsequent fencing-in of the acquired property,and neither singly nor in combination were these strong enough tojustify his accusation before reasonable people.
"Well, well," said the Squire at last, "I may be wrong. I say no moreabout it. But this persecution has gone far enough, and 'tis time itwas stopped, though how to stop it I know no more than the dead."
"I'll see what I can do, Squire. The Towers is saved, and glad I am ofit. 'Tis to be hoped the wretches will try their tricks no more."
He mounted and rode away, the Squire having warmly thanked him for hisassistance. The four inmates of the Towers then returned to their beds.
"You did well, Dick," said the Squire as they parted. "'Twas a goodthought of yours to pull down the posts; without it we might have beenburnt out. We'll hold fast to the old place a while longer, my lad."
To his wife he related all that had happened, and mentioned what Mr.Polwhele had said about his suspicion of John Trevanion.
"I've no proof, that's true; but in my heart I know it; time will showwhether I'm right or wrong."