CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH
Cross-Currents
Polkerran next day was the stage upon which a series of dramaticincidents were enacted, pure comedy to the spectators, but with apossible tragedy behind the scenes.
At an early hour a mob of boys and girls, with a sprinkling of aged folkverging on second childhood, followed at the heels of Petherick, theconstable, as he shambled through the streets, stopping at the cornersto ring his bell, shout "Oyez! Oyez!" and mumble the formal words of Mr.Carlyon's proclamation. He pretended to read them from the sheet ofdouble foolscap that he held at arm's length before him, but beingperfectly illiterate, he in reality recited them by heart, the Vicarhaving devoted two solid hours since dawn in drumming them into theman's head. His duty thus religiously performed, Petherick repaired tothe tap-room of the Five Pilchards, where he discoursed for a time on_habeas corpus, felo de se_, and other magical prescriptions, relievinghis dryness so frequently with rum-hot that he was at length overcomewith emotion, and mingled his liquor with his tears.
Two hours later, Sir Bevil Portharvan rode down with Mr. John Trevanion,a brother magistrate, and a sheriff's officer from Truro, intending toharangue the populace and impress them with the majesty and terror ofthe law. But finding that no audience gathered about him except theyoung and old children aforesaid, a few pallid indoor workmen, and anumber of women accompanied by squalling infants in arms--theable-bodied men being, curiously enough, otherwise engaged--he abandonedthat part of the programme, and contented himself with solemnlysuperintending the affixing to the inn-door of a bill, headed with theroyal arms, which he had ordered overnight to be printed in Truro.
At noon came Mr. Mildmay, Mr. Polwhele, a posse of excisemen, and asoldier on furlough, who, with the authority of a warrant signed by theVicar, proceeded to make a thorough search of the houses, beginning withthe inn itself. They descended to the cellars, ascended to the lofts;rummaged in clothes presses; turned down beds; rapped at walls forhollow sounds indicating secret passages or receptacles; peeped intohorse-troughs, cow-byres, and pigsties; poked in coppers and washtubs;in short, worked themselves into a fine perspiring heat and the villagefolk into an itching frenzy by the conscientious thoroughness of theirinquisition. Some of the men who had been undiscoverable by Sir Bevilwere now energetically employed, in advance of the search party, inremoving bales, kegs, packets, and canisters, so that when Mr. Mildmayappeared at one end of a street, these interesting objects werecollected at the other; and when this end in turn was visited, thebarefooted carriers of the articles in question slipped back andreplaced them in their former hiding-places.
While Mr. Mildmay and his assistants, after three hours' unremittingtoil, stood mopping their brows and venting their honest opinion of thePolkerran folk, John Trevanion rode down the hill. He reined up when hereached the group, and greeted the discomfited representatives of thelaw.
"How d'ye do, gentlemen?" he cried. "Have you had any success?"
"Confusion seize 'em, Mr. Trevanion!" replied the lieutenant. "We'venot seen a sign of the old man, nor discovered a single cask or bundleof contraband. You'd think 'twas the most innocent, duty-paying villagein the three kingdoms."
"That's most unfortunate. As to the contraband--well, you know, we alllike to get our goods as cheap as we may, I don't disguise it; but oldPenwarden is another story. Have you no notion where he is?"
"No more than you, Mr. Trevanion," said the riding-officer, throwing akeen glance on the horseman.
"Then you must be blank indeed," said Trevanion with an easy laugh."'Tis my belief there's a great deal too much fuss made about old Joe'sdisappearance. Surely nobody in Polkerran would wish to injure soancient an institution. 'Tis a prank, depend upon it, and when theprankers have achieved their object--you and I can guess what thatis--they'll let him loose as sound as a bell."
Trevanion's debonair frankness disarmed Mr. Mildmay, to whom he was acomparative stranger. It seemed ridiculous that the Squire shouldharbour such unworthy suspicions of his cousin.
"By the way," continued Trevanion, "I am glad I met you. I am having afew friends in on Saturday night--a bit of a randy; that's our name forit here--and I shall be delighted if you will join us. I haven't seen somuch of you as I should like; this mine I'm starting has kept me busy."
"I'm much obliged to you," said Mr. Mildmay, "but I fear----"
"Oh, I know what you would say. But your cutter can spare you for anhour or two. Not for the world would I hinder your duties; to catchthat villain Delarousse in particular would be worth a good deal to you;but 'tis dark early; the hour fixed is six; and I won't say a word ifyou must leave us before we are ripe."
"Well, I will come. Thank you."
"And you too, Mr. Polwhele? The service of your country can spare youfor a little while?"
"To be sure. I'll come too, Mr. Trevanion; 'twill be like old times,indeed."
The riding-officer's assent was much more hearty than Mr. Mildmay's,which was perhaps a little surprising in view of the suspicions he hadconfessed to on the previous day in speaking to Dick.
"That's right," said Trevanion. "I shall be glad to welcome you. Thehour is six--did I name it? I hope Penwarden will be found by thattime; you'll feel easier, I dare say. Good-bye, then."
When he had ridden away, Mr. Mildmay dismissed the underlings and wentoff to have a meal with the riding-officer.
"That fellow's too free-and-easy to be the villain the Squire thinkshim," said Mr. Mildmay, as they walked southward out of the village.
Mr. Polwhele smiled.
"I'm beginning to think he's the cleverest free-trader the duchy everbred," he remarked.
"My dear fellow!" expostulated the lieutenant.
"I had my suspicions; this invitation has convinced me," replied Mr.Polwhele. "Bless my life, to think you are so simple, Mildmay! Don'tyou see the game? They've put Penwarden out of the way. What does thatmean? A big run, as sure as I'm alive. But we two are obstacles; theyblink at kidnapping us, but they do better. They invite us to a randy,and while we are making merry they slip inshore, run their cargo,liberate Penwarden, and laugh at us for a pair of jackasses."
"That's nonsense, Polwhele. The cutter will be out, though I'm not onit. Besides, didn't he say we can leave when we like?"
"Yes, with the belief that when he has us there, warmth, good liquor,and pleasant company will prove more attractive than hunting rascals inthe cold."
"Why did you accept, then?"
"First, to look after you, Mildmay. Second, to keep my eyes open.Third, to make Trevanion think I don't suspect him, so that thesmugglers may go forward with their plans. He is playing a deep game,I'm sure of it."
"That's detestably unjust, Polwhele," said Mr. Mildmay, with some heat."Give a dog a bad name, and----I tell you what. We will both leave atnine; not a minute later. That's several hours before any run tookplace that ever I heard of. Nine it shall be, and call me jackass if theshore's not as quiet all night as the churchyard."
Meanwhile, what had Dick been doing?
At the hour when Mr. Carlyon was driving the terms of his proclamationinto Petherick's reluctant skull, Dick rose from bed, and taking the keyof Penwarden's cottage, brought to the Towers by Gammer Oliver, went upthe cliff to make a more thorough examination of the premises than hehad made on the previous day. He wished that he had thought of doing sobefore, for there had not only been rain in the night which would helpto obliterate any traces that the kidnappers might have left on theground, but the neighbourhood had been visited by inquisitive boys,dairymaids, farm-hands, and idle folk from the village, who trampedround the cottage, gazed at the door, and peered in at the windows,leaving innumerable footprints on the soil.
Dick was puzzled to think how Joe's captors had obtained entrance to thecottage. It was not by the front door, unless Penwarden had carelesslyleft it open; its timbers were sound and the lock unbroken; not by thechimney, which
was too narrow to admit anything larger than a pigeon.They might have gone through the garden and forced the back door; thoughthey would surely have tried to effect an entrance quietly, while theold man lay asleep.
Arriving at the cottage, Dick unlocked the door, entered, and wentthrough the passage to the back door, which opened on a tiny garden.The lock had not been tampered with. Penwarden was very proud of hisgarden, devoting many hours a day in the summer, when his duties werelight, to the cultivation of peonies, fuchsias, nasturtiums, and otherflowering plants, together with onions, artichokes, and vegetablemarrows. The flowers were on one side of a narrow path, the vegetableson the other. There was a small gate in the rear fence. At this time ofyear the ground was bare, Penwarden finding nothing to do but a littlerake and spade work.
A glance at the path apprised Dick that the captive had been carried outthis way. The pebbles were disturbed; parts of the boxwood borders weretrampled down, and over the edge there were prints of heavy boots on thebrown earth. Dick examined the kitchen window. The explanation was atonce clear to him. There were deep scratches on the sill and thewoodwork; the conclusion was irresistible; the kidnappers had climbedinto the kitchen and gained the bedroom before Penwarden was aware oftheir presence. That they had carried their victim out by the back doorseemed to show that at any rate they had taken him inland, and not downto the shore. How the front door came to be unlocked was a puzzlingcircumstance, since they had clearly neither entered nor come out thatway.
Dick went again to the back, and sought to trace the footsteps beyondthe gate; but the grass there was so beaten down by the rain and thefeet of the curious idlers, that the most careful investigation mustprove fruitless. He returned into the cottage, to make a thoroughsearch of the bedroom. Gammer Oliver had made the bed, straightened therug, set the chair on its legs, and washed over the stained plank. Itseemed probable that his instruction to her to tidy up had robbed him ofany chance of making a discovery. But Dick resolved not to err againthrough over-haste, and, the small window admitting little light, hefound a candle, lit it, and began to prowl methodically round the room.For some time his search met with no reward, but all at once, catching aglint of light reflected from some object on the floor in the anglebetween a grandfather's clock and the fireplace, he stooped, and pickedup a large steel button, to which hung by the broken threads a tornscrap of blue cloth.
Dick felt a thrill of excitement. Penwarden had not been carried awayunresisting. He knew that already by the signs of struggle formerlyobserved. The severed button was an additional proof. No doubt it hadbeen wrenched off in the fight--from whose coat? Not from Joe's; hisbuttons were the regulation brass buttons of the Government service.Many of the fishers had steel buttons on their winter coats, and onebutton was like another. But it occurred to Dick that the particulargarment which had lost this button might not yet have been repaired, andhe wondered whether the Vicar's search-warrant would justify Mr. Mildmayin demanding that all the blue coats in the village should be spread outon the beach for examination. The absurdity of the idea struck him atonce. Of course the very garment that was wanted would not appear. Buthe thought of a better way--one that would arouse no suspicion, thoughit might prove impossible of execution. He would go down into thevillage and scrutinise the clothes of all the men he met. The owner ofthe lost button was probably one of the most active of the smugglers,and not an indoor man, so that there was some chance of meeting him inthe street, on the beach, or on the jetty.
He set off at once. On the way he met Sir Bevil and other horsemenriding from the Dower House, where John Trevanion had entertained themafter the futile ceremony in the village. The fishers, who were not tobe seen when Sir Bevil was burning to address them, now stood smoking atthe corners, in front of the inn, on the jetty, and elsewhere. Theyappeared to be very much amused. Some of them scowled at Dick as hepassed; others laughed and spat; one asked him with an oath what he wasstaring at. Dick was seldom in the village now, and the hostility ofthe folk's attitude might have made his heart sore had he not beenhardened to it.
He walked along as unconcernedly as he could, standing for a few momentsto watch some fishers mending nets on the beach, and lingering untiltheir movements brought the front of their coats into view. Some coatswere brown, some blue; some had steel buttons, others bone. Not one waslacking. Presently he came to the jetty, where Isaac Tonkin, sitting onan upturned tub, was superintending some repairs to the seine-net in hislugger. He wore a blue coat, but his arms were folded, one hand holdinghis pipe to his mouth. He threw one glance at Dick, but made nomovement, and thenceforth ignored him.
Dick strolled up and down. Excitement utterly possessed him; to hisfancy Tonkin was deliberately concealing two out of his four buttons.The two visible were of steel. What could he do to make the manunclasp? But it was not necessary to practise any wile. The simplestcauses effected what he desired.
"Feyther," called Jake Tonkin from the lugger, "fling us a quid o' yerbacca."
"'Tis bad for young stummicks," said the father. "Howsomever, here 'eebe."
His right arm fell as he sought his pocket: the front of his coat wasrevealed; one button was missing.
It is probable that Dick, but for his long waiting and his excitement,would not have yielded to impulse. But as Tonkin threw the tobacco intothe lugger, Dick stepped up to him, and, holding out the incriminatingbutton, said:
"This is yours, I believe."
Tonkin stared at him for an instant, blew a cloud from his lips, andheld out his hand for the button as if to examine it. In anticipatorytriumph Dick handed it to him.
"Did I hear 'ee say as this button do belong to me?" asked the man in acuriously quiet voice.
"Yes, I did say so."
"Well, drown me if I want it," and with a flick between his forefingerand thumb he sent it skimming through the air. It fell into the sea adozen yards away.
Dick's cheeks flamed with rage at his stupidity in allowing himself tobe outwitted. He had had in his possession the sole piece of evidenceagainst the kidnappers, and now it was lost on the sandy bottom of theharbour. Shaken out of his self-control, he said hotly:
"'Twas you that kidnapped Penwarden. Don't think you will escape.There'll be an end to this villainy."
"Go and inform, then, you cussed young slip of a rotted old tree. 'Tisnot the first time, neither, you dirty young whelp."
A burst of laughter from the lugger brought Dick to his sober senses.Disdaining to contradict the aspersion, he turned abruptly on his heel,tingling with fury at his own indiscretion. Jibes and jeers pursued himas he walked towards the homeward road; these stung him less than theknowledge that by his own folly he had thrown away a chance of helpingPenwarden.
Gloomy thoughts kept him company as he toiled up the hill. Nor was hecheered by the air of malignant triumph manifest on Doubledick's fatface, when, half-way up the hill, he met the inn-keeper waddling down.In imagination he heard the gleeful chuckles with which Doubledick wouldlearn of his discomfiture. After the heroic resolution he had latelycome to, it was a sorry thing to have been worsted in the firstencounter.
Walking more rapidly on the level road past the Dower House, at acursory glance to the left he saw a short, thickset form scramble overthe fence that bounded the premises, and hasten furtively in thedirection of the Towers. The sight struck him with surprise and wrathat once, for the slinking figure was undoubtedly that of Sam Pollex.Being himself partially concealed by the hedge, he thought it probablethat Sam had not seen him, so, hurrying along, he turned as soon aspossible into the grounds of the Towers, and came face to face with Samas the boy arrived at a little wicket-gate.
"What do you mean by it?" he demanded angrily, holding the gate so thatSam could not pass through.
Sam blushed and dropped his eyes, looking flustered and perturbed.
"Were you not bidden never to go there again?" Dick continued. "Didn'tI say I'd break your head for you if you disobeyed?"
"
Iss, you did so," said Sam ruefully. "Ah, well, you'm better do it andget it over."
"What were you doing there?" said Dick, still holding the gate.
Sam looked sidelong, shuffled his feet, then, as with a great effort,replied:
"I didn' go to sell eggs, nor nawthin' o' that sort. If you must haul itout of a poor feller, I rambled there to----"
"Well?"
"To see maidy Susan; now I've said it."
"Then you're a silly ass. She's years older than you. What does a maidof twenty want with a boy of sixteen?"
"Twenty she is, and sixteen be I, but I've a deal more wisdom in mynoddle than she, arter all. She's a simple soul about pilchurs, andnight-lines, and buildin' boats, and all sorts o' famous things I'veknowed since I wer table-high, and she do have a tarrible thirst forhigh knowledge. She've a clever little head-piece, too, for when I wertellin' to she how pretty 'tis to see a otter divin' for fish, whoshould come up-along but Doubledick----"
"Did he see you?" interrupted Dick.
"I wer just agoin' to tell 'ee. No, 'a didn't see me, 'cos I slippedbehind Maidy, she being well growed, and says I, 'That feller is my'nation enemy,' says I, and afore I knowed wheer I wer, she whisked meinto a little small cupboard place wi' coats and boots hangin' on thewall, and commanded me, in a feelin' whisper, to bide theer till shetoled me out. Drown me if I didn' hear Doubledick go shailin' past wi'Maister John, and then there comed a rumblin' through the wall, and Iknowed they two was a-talkin'."
"Did you hear what they said?" asked Dick eagerly.
"Iss, I did. I hadn' nawthin' better to do, so I put my ear to thewall. Iss, I heerd a thing or two."
"Well, what did you hear? Anything about Penwarden?"
Sam had gradually pushed open the gate, and was now walking beside Dick.
"Not a word. I wer so flambustered in bein' poked in that hencoop of aplace, and thinkin' what they'd do to me if so be they catched me, that'twas all mixed up, and I couldn' tell A from B."
"But think: you must have heard something clearly. You didn't lose allyour wits, did you?"
"Well, I did hear Maister John say wind was steady, and 'a hoped 't 'udhold fair for business."
"Yes: what then?"
"Don't 'ee bustle me; then maybe I'll mind o' more. Iss, I mindDoubledick said, 'Hee! hee!' says he; 'if it do hold for anotherforty-eight hours,' says he;--and be-jowned if I could hear any more o'that piece of reckonin', my poor heart was a-strummin' so."
"Confound your poor heart!" cried Dick. "Do pull yourself together. Itmay mean salvation to Joe."
Sam scratched his head.
"If you'd only been theer instead o' me!" he muttered. "Ah! 'Twascarriers. Iss: Maister John axed if 'twas settled about carriers. 'Around score,' says Doubledick, if 't wasn't two; 'good fellers all; nowamblin', slack-twisted cripple-toes for this job,' says he."
"What job?"
"That I can't say. But Zacky Tonkin was in it; iss; gie me a minute forrec'lection; iss. Doubledick says, 'Zacky be sour as a green apple.''Ha! ha!' laughs Maister John, ''a don't like playin' second fiddle,'says he, which is a passel o' nonsense, 'cos Zacky never played onfiddle, fust, second, nor last either, all his born days, that I doknow. ''Tis for 'ee to keep un quiet!' says Maister John. 'He hev hisuses, but hain't got a mossel of brains. You've got enough for two,Doubledick,' says he."
Dick was becoming impatient. The conversation as reported was not veryenlightening, and surely Doubledick had not visited the Dower House todiscuss such trivialities. But Dick had learnt his lesson; he would noterr again by being over-hasty; so he schooled himself to endure the slowtrickle of information as it oozed from Sam's reluctant memory.
"Didn't they name Penwarden at all?" he asked.
"Never heerd un. The only other names I heerd wer Tom Pennycomequickand Jimmy Nancarrow."
"Ah! what about them?"
Sam reflected.
"Tom Pennycomequick and Jimmy Nancarrow," he repeated, as if therepetition would recall the connection. "Iss; I mind o't. Says MaisterJohn, 'Who be on guard to-day?'"
"'On guard!' Not 'on the watch'?"
"That's what 'a meant, seemingly, but 'a said 'on guard.' 'TomPennycomequick and Jimmy Nancarrow,' says Doubledick. There was summatabout 'bogeys,' if I could only mind. Iss, fay; I've got un. 'Two,'says Maister John, 'what for?' 'Hee! hee!' goes Doubledick; ''cos theywas afeard to go alone,' says he. 'Afeard o' their own bogeys,' saysMaister John, and then they both laughed so hearty that daze me if Ididn't bust out too, and had to clap the tail of a coat in my jaws sothey shouldn' hear. 'T'ud ha' been gashly if they found me, and drawedout o' me how maidy Susan had put me theer, and--well, you bean'ta-hearkenin', so I'll say no more."
In truth, Dick's ears were closed; his mind was rapidly piecing togetherthe fragmentary items of information Sam had given him. They had nowreached the Towers; Dick went straight to his bedroom, and sat with hiselbow on the window-sill, looking out over the grey sullen sea, andstriving to bind together these separate strands. The outcome of hismeditation was as follows:
Something important was to happen within forty-eight hours, and itdepended on the weather. It was now midday on Friday; what was to bedone would be done before midday on Sunday. There had been mention ofcarriers--that implied a smuggling run. Penwarden's name had not beenmentioned, but two men had been said to be on guard. Over whom or what?Not over smuggled goods, for the run had not yet taken place. Not overthe revenue officers, for the phrase would then have been "on the watch"or something similar. The word "guard" would naturally be used inconnection with a prisoner; that prisoner must be Penwarden: where washe? The men on guard were afraid; no doubt the place chosen for hisimprisonment was a lonely spot, not in the village, but somewhere remotefrom the scene of the impending operations, unless, indeed, it wasintended to ship him to France in the lugger that brought the cargo. Inthat case he would probably be in some secure nook near the shore.
Perplexed, Dick wondered whether he had at last discovered a clue. Itwas at least worth while to follow it up. The men whose names had beenmentioned were well known to him. Pennycomequick was a cobbler,Nancarrow a farmer, whose holding was situated about three miles away onthe moor. To make direct inquiries might awaken suspicion: how could hediscover where they were? An idea struck him. No doubt their guardwould be relieved. Trevanion had been surprised to learn that two wereon duty; the task, then, was usually undertaken by one. Was it possibleto find out if any one left the village secretly during the day?
Suddenly a simple stratagem occurred to him. He took up an old, wornpair of boots, ran downstairs, and called Sam.
"Take these down to Pennycomequick's, and tell him to sole them, and toput a good iron tip on the heels. If he is not there, ask when he willbe back. Be sure not to forget that, and be as quick as you can."
"Iss, I woll," said Sam, "for I do have a hankerin' arter dinner."
He hurried away, and returned when Dick was half through his middaymeal. Dick heard the boy clumping into the house, but did not go to himat once, being disinclined to enter into explanations with his parentsat this stage. He left the table as soon as he could, and found Sambusy with dumpling and gravy in the kitchen.
"Well, Sam?" he said.
"Mistress commands me not to speak wi' my mouth full," mumbled the boy."Now I can tell 'ee," he went on after a few moments. "Pennycomequickbean't to home. He be gone to Trura to buy leather."
"When will he be back?"
"'Them above alone knows,' says the woman when I axed her. 'He saidfour, but what Pennycomequick says, and what he do, be as far apart asfrom here to nowhere.' If that be all you want to know, Maister Dick,I'll continny work on this noble pudden."
Dick was satisfied. He returned to his room, and, about three o'clock,mounted to the roof of one of the towers from which the house took itsname. With him he carried an excellent spy-glass which remained to theSquire from his seafaring days. From this lofty eyrie a view could b
eobtained for miles around. If the cobbler and the farmer were on guardtogether, it was likely that they would be relieved together, and theycould hardly return, the one to the village, the other to his farm onthe moor, without coming at some part of their journey within range ofvision. Dick felt a momentary damping of the spirits when it occurredto him that Penwarden's place of concealment might be some nook belowthe cliffs. In that case the sentries would be changed by boat from theharbour, and he would see nothing of them. But even in that case thefarmer must ascend the hill and cross the moor, and though he might beconcealed at some portions of his road by trees and bushes, he must atlength cross open country. Behind the parapet Dick could watch unseen,and he settled himself to wait in patience.