CHAPTER THE NINTH
Doubledick's Midnight Guests
"Who's that?" cried Trevanion.
Dick, being on the offside, was concealed by the driver's burly form,but he shrank back against the front of the carriage. He did not wishto meet his cousin's eyes at that moment, and began to wonder why he wason the box in the rain when he might have ridden inside.
"Axin' yer pardon, sir," replied the coachman, "I be afeard I've tookthe wrong road. 'Tis 'nation dark, and my lamp has gone out."
"What was that clattering of horses I heard?"
"Ah, I can't tell 'ee that. I didn't see no one. Maybe 'twasriding-officer. I axe yer pardon for disturbin' ye, sir, this terriblebad night and all, and I'll drive on to village."
"You're a stranger, aren't you? Have you got anybody in your carriage?"
"Never a soul, sir. The truth is, I've lost my way, and shan't be sorryto get out o' this pesty rain."
"'Tis heavier now. Well, good-night. You'll find a warm room in theinn at the foot of the hill, if the innkeeper hasn't raked out the fireand gone to bed. Good-night."
He retreated with his guttering candle into the house and shut the door,the coachman driving back to the high road. Dick was mystified. Whyhad the man denied having a passenger? Why had he extinguished hislight and turned out of the road on hearing horsemen? The driver saidnothing, except to grumble under his breath at the weather, and Dickrefrained from questioning him, thinking that some light might be thrownon the mystery when they reached the inn.
The carriage had just wheeled into the road when Dick felt a touch onhis right arm. He looked round: the passenger was leaning forward outof the window.
"How is ze name of zat man--him zat hold ze light?" asked the strangereagerly.
Dick hesitated; then, seeing no reason for not answering, said: "That isMr. John Trevanion."
"Tre--vat say you, if you please?"
"Trevanion."
"Trevanion!" repeated the questioner, giving a strange intonation to thename. "Ah! Shank you."
He withdrew his head into the carriage. Dick heard the driver mutter:
"Why can't he clap a stopper on his tongue, the stunpoll!"
He drove slowly down the steep winding hill.
"There's the inn," said Dick presently. "Doubledick isn't abed, late asit is."
A light shone through the red blind of the inn parlour. The door wasopen, and Doubledick stood in the doorway, illuminated by the lightbehind. In spite of the heavy rain several men, among whom Dickdistinguished the elder Tonkin, were grouped about the door. They hadheard the wheels of the oncoming carriage, and there were signs ofexcitement among them. As the vehicle drew up, Tonkin stepped forward,thrust his head in, uttered a smothered exclamation, then opened thedoor hastily. The eyes of all the men were fixed on the figure thatemerged, so that Dick on the box was not noticed. A short, broad man,clad in a long overcoat, his cocked hat pulled low over his brow,descended from the carriage and went quickly into the inn, the menfollowing him. The door was shut. Feeling that he was in a somewhatfalse position, Dick seized the opportunity to slip down from his seatand withdraw round the angle of the wall, where a flight of stepsascended between it and the wall of the opposite house. He heard Tonkinspeaking to the driver; the carriage rumbled over the cobbles, notreturning up the hill, but going through the village in the oppositedirection. Immediately afterwards the inn door was reopened, the heavyboots of the fishers clumped along the street, and in a few momentsnothing was to be heard except the pattering of the rain.
Dick felt a little sore at having to trudge back afoot, without a wordof thanks. He was drenched to the skin. Glancing behind as he began toclimb the hill, he saw that the light had now disappeared from theinn-room. The whole village was in darkness. More than ever dispiritedand mystified, he plodded along. Apparently the carriage had beenexpected. He could not help connecting it with the horsemen whom thedriver had been so anxious to avoid, and, remembering the strange accentof the passenger, it suddenly flashed upon him that the man might be oneof Boney's spies, whom he had unwittingly helped to escape pursuers.But on reflection this idea seemed untenable, because a spy was hardlylikely to appear at this remote part of the coast, and he could notbelieve that the smugglers of Polkerran, like those of the south-easterncounties, had any treasonable communications with the French ogre.
He was still pondering on the baffling occurrence when the sound ofhorses trotting again fell on his ear. In a few moments he had to standaside to avoid being knocked down by the first of half-a-dozen horsemen,whom, dark as it was, he recognised by their headdress to be soldiers.Their uniforms were covered by their riding cloaks. He was seen as heshrank back: a rough voice called "Halt!" and the horsemen reined up.
"Stand forth, in the King's name, and answer for your life," said thesame voice.
Dick went towards the foremost horseman.
"Who are you?" he was asked.
"My name is Trevanion," he replied.
"Ah! Same as the gentleman up the hill," cried the soldier. "Now, tellus quick; have you seen a coach, wagon, or other four-wheeled piece ofmachinery hereabouts?"
"Yes; a two-horsed carriage drove down to the inn yonder about twentyminutes ago."
"What road did she come?"
"This very road that you're on."
"Confusion on it! Then how did we miss the thing? But there, nomatter; we'll after it and catch the villain."
Without more delay the sergeant and his men clattered off down the hill,relieving Dick of the necessity of giving explanations, which he feltmight be somewhat awkward. Being now thoroughly excited, he forgot hisfatigue and wetness, and ran after the dragoons to see what happenedwhen they reached the inn. He was but a minute or two behind them. Thevillage was still in complete darkness; the rain had ceased, and themoon showed her rim through a rift in the scudding clouds.
The troopers were at the door of the inn, five still on horseback; thesixth had dismounted and was rapping on the door with the hilt of hissword.
"Hang me, will he never open?" cried the man, when repeated blows drewno response.
"Must be a rare sleeper, to be sure," said another.
"I'll bust the lock with a shot from my carbine if he don't open soon,"cried the angry sergeant. "This is some jiggery-pokery, sure as I'malive."
He thundered again on the door, calling upon the innkeeper with manyimprecations to open in the King's name. At last there was the sound ofa casement opening above. Looking up, the troopers saw first ablunderbuss, then an arm, and finally a head in a white nightcap.
"Who be that a-bangin' and smitin' at an honest man's door, when he beabed and asleep?" demanded Doubledick's voice angrily.
"'Tis for you to answer questions, not to axe 'em," said the sergeant."Now, speak like a true man, and hide nothing, or the King will haveyour miserable head. Did a carriage come down the hill a while ago?"
"Oh, if ye be King's men I bean't afeard o' ye. A carriage? Why, to besure 'a did, a half-hour ago, or maybe more."
"And where is it now?"
"There's a question to axe a poor simple soul wi' only two eyes. How beI to know that, captain, on a dark night like this?"
"Be hanged to you! You know whether it stayed or went on, and you'dbest speak up without any shilly-shally."
"True. I do know that. The carriage went on, to be sure."
"Which way? Speak up."
"Well, I can't 'zackly say, but 'twarn't up the hill, so I reckon 'twasthrough village towards Redruth. Iss, I reckon 'twas that."
"And the man inside?"
"Daze me if ever I knowed of any man inside. Driver had lost his way,seemingly; 'a was like a squashed turmit in the rain: and when he'd tooksummat to comfort his innards, off-along he drove. Warn't here fiveminutes, no, nor yet four."
"'Tis treason-felony and hangman's job if you're not speaking thetruth," said the sergeant. "Confusion take h
im, we'll have to ride on.Look here, Tom; you stay here with Matthew and keep your eye on thedoor. The rest of us will ride on after the carriage, and come back toyou if we catch our man."
"What rascal of a deserter be you a-chasin' by night, captain?" criedDoubledick.
"No deserter, but a prisoner that escaped from Plymouth. We've beenafter him all day and all night, and smite me if it don't seem he hasgiven us the slip. Come on, men."
The sergeant rode off with three of his men, the other two dismountingand taking up their stand at the door.
"I reckon I can go back to my warm bed now, eh, sojers?" saidDoubledick. "But ye're sappy wet, poor fellers, and tired too, to besure, hikin' arter a runaway prisoner all day and all night. Bide aminute till I've pulled a few garments on my cold limbs, and I'll comedown and give 'ee summat to warm yerselves."
The nightcap disappeared, a candle was lighted, and in a few minutesDoubledick came to the door with two steaming beakers of hot brandy andwater, which the troopers accepted gratefully.
Dick, from the shadow of an alley, had seen and heard all that went on.The soldiers chatted with the innkeeper for a while; then he retiredinto the inn, shut the door, and put out the light.
A minute or two afterwards Dick saw a figure stealing down the steps atthe side of the inn, peep round the corner, and then retreat hastily.He supposed it was one of the men whom he had seen at the doorpreviously, but was unable to distinguish his features, owing to thedeep shadows thrown on the alley-steps by the moon. To avoid discoveryhimself, he shrank back against the blind wall. It must now, hethought, be nearly midnight; but, wet though he was, he determined notto leave the spot until he had seen how the matter ended. Having beenbehind the wall when the carriage drove away, he was not sure whetherthe passenger had re-entered it or not. The hurried manner in which theman had gone into the inn was not that of one who intended coming forthagain. Doubledick had lied when he said that he knew nothing of theoccupant of the carriage; yet why should he harbour an escaped prisoner,who was almost certainly a Frenchman? The mystery was deeper than ever.
It was perhaps an hour later, and Dick was on the point of going home,when the silence of the night was again broken by the sharp ringingclatter of hoofs. The sergeant and his three men returned, a white mistrising from their horses' backs.
"We caught the carriage," said the sergeant, as he rode up, "but 'twasempty as a sucked egg. The driver said he'd lost his way on the moorcoming from Truro, and was going on home to Redruth. Have you seenanything?"
"Not a thing," replied one of the troopers at the door.
"Well, we must search the inn. What a miserable fool I was not to askthat young feller if there was any one in the carriage when he saw it!"
Dick hesitated for a moment. Should he tell what he knew? A Frenchprisoner was an enemy of his country; might it not be his duty to helpthe dragoons to capture him? But reflecting that the man might benothing worse than a smuggler, in which case to inform against him wouldonly embitter the inimical feeling of the villagers against him, besidesbeing an ungracious act in itself, he decided to say nothing.
After a long-continued knocking and the expenditure of much abusivelanguage, Doubledick once more opened the door.
"Ye'll gie me the rheumatiz and send me to my grave," he said with awhine. "What be ye rampin' men o' war wantin' now?"
"We're going to search your inn for that there mounseer, my fine feller,and you'd best take it quiet, or you'll find yourself strapped to one ofour hosses and carried with all your bones a-rattling afore theColonel."
"Search, if ye must. Name it all, why should I hinder 'ee! Turn theinn topsy-versy, ye'll find nothing but maybe a rat or a cockroach."
The sergeant and two of the troopers entered. They searched thetap-room, the inn-parlour, kitchen, cellars, bedrooms, lofts; rummagedcupboards, empty barrels, a clock-case, the copper in the scullery, anoverturned water butt in the backyard; all to no purpose.
"He's not here, that's certain," said the sergeant at last, dashing theperspiration from his brow. "We must have overshot the villain somehow.Plague on it! We shall have to ride back to Truro and try to get on histracks, or the Colonel will be in a rare passion."
"I won't ask 'ee to stay, brave men," said Doubledick, "knowing whatterrible rages noble officers do fly into. But a nibleykin o' real oldstingo won't do 'ee no harm, and ye can drink confusion to Boney. Hee!hee!"
All the soldiers accepted the liquor with alacrity, and the two who hadalready tasted its quality winked at each other, not acquainting theircomrades with their previous pleasurable experience. Smacking theirlips and declaring that the innkeeper was a real good-hearted fellow,they remounted and rode up the hill. Doubledick watched them until theywere out of sight, a leer of triumph on his face. Dick heard himchuckle as he shut the door and shuffled up the stairs. The light wasextinguished, and Dick, vexed with himself for remaining so long and sounprofitably, set off homeward in the track of the dragoons.
A few minutes after he had left, a heavily-cloaked figure--the same thatDick had seen a while before--stole down the steps at the side of theinn, and, looking round cautiously, approached the door and rapped sixtimes upon it, pausing a brief while after every second tap.Immediately after the sixth, the casement above opened, and Doubledick,looking out, said in a hoarse whisper:
"Be that you, Zacky?"
"No, 'tis I, John Trevanion. Come down and let me in, Doubledick."
"Good sakes, I didn' know 'ee was to home, Maister John. Thought 'eewas still in Lunnon town. A pretty stoor there's been to-night. Bide aminute, sir."
He lit his candle, descended, let Trevanion in, and barred the doorbehind him.
"I never thought you were such a fool," said Trevanion, angrily eyeingthe nightcapped and nightgowned innkeeper. "What on earth possessed youto harbour Delarousse?"
"Chok' it all, why shouldn't I?" replied Doubledick truculently."Bean't he a good friend of ourn? Who better?"
"Confound you, he's a Frenchman, and a runaway prisoner. The soldierswill get on his track again, and your ridiculous folly will be the ruinof us all. You have no business to run such risks."
In his anger Trevanion raised his voice.
"Risks, do 'ee say? Jown me if you hain't run risks yerself, MaisterJohn, and a deal bigger; hee! hee!"
"Silence!" shouted Trevanion. "Don't provoke me, or upon my soul andbody I'll----"
The threat died on his lips, for at this moment a door opened at thefurther end of the passage in which they stood, and there appeared theshort, rotund form of the passenger who had descended from the carriagesome hours before. The overcoat and the cocked hat were gone; theFrenchman wore the rough fustian, marked with a broad arrow, in whichthe authorities arrayed prisoners. His eyes gleamed with the fire ofhatred as he looked full at Trevanion, who on his part returned glarefor glare, but whose countenance wore a strange expression, whichDoubledick, watching him, could not fathom.
"It is you," said the Frenchman, in his own tongue. "You, Robinson--orTrevanion, is it not so?"
"You be known to each other, then?" said Doubledick. "Hee! hee! Whydon't 'ee shake hands, like friends?"
"Silence!" cried the Frenchman sternly. "You go," he added, addressingDoubledick in English. "I haf somezink to say to zismonsieur--Trevanion."
He took the candle from the astonished inn-keeper's hand, and motionedto Trevanion to enter the parlour. Following him, he shut and boltedthe door, leaving Doubledick in the dark passage. The innkeeperpromptly knelt down and put his ear to the keyhole, but since he knewalmost nothing of French, he understood little of the ensuing dialogue,which was conducted in that tongue.
"You see I have found you, monsieur--Trevanion," said Delarousse. "Youthought, no doubt, that you had escaped me when you landed that darknight. But you should not have come to Polkerran; that was a foolishstep for one so clever to take. You would have been caught, but for asudden alarm from the shore; yet it mattered little that I had to s
ailaway then, for, as you see, I have found you--cheat, thief, scoundrel!"
Trevanion did not flinch as the Frenchman hissed these words at him. Hethrust his hand into the breast pocket of his cloak.
"Aha!" laughed Delarousse. "You have a pistol? I have not. You wouldlike to shoot me, but you dare not. I should like to shoot you, but Ihave no weapon, and, equally, if I had, I dare not. I will not hang foryou: so you deal in this country with men that kill others, is it notso? But I tell you, Trevanion--that is a name I do not forget--I tellyou that you shall not escape. It is not the time now, but there willcome a day when you shall repent of having deceived and robbed the manwho trusted you. Once more I tell you what you are: cheat, thief,scoundrel!"
"Pretty words, monsieur," said Trevanion with a sneer. "You had bettertake warning. This country is not safe for Frenchmen. You have escapedfrom prison, by some piece of imbecile folly----"
"Not so," interposed Delarousse. "It was by the skill of good friends,who are loyal to one that has done business loyally with them. Theywould have taken me to Roscoff in their lugger, and tried to dissuade mewhen I said that I should come here. But they helped me. One of themrisked his neck to drive me here, and my true friends have guarded me.I came to assure myself that the man who called himself Robinson liveshere in this village. I saw you from the carriage when you stood atyour door; I learnt your real name, and now, once more I say it, I willwait my time, and you shall pay for your knavery."
"I care nothing for your threats. You have been lucky to escape once;you will not escape a second time. Set foot on this shore again and thewhole country will rise at you. Expect no mercy from me."
"Mercy! From you! Mon Dieu, is it you that talk of mercy?"
He broke off, and let out a gust of harsh, sardonic laughter. Then,thrusting himself forward, he cried:
"Bah! I spit at you! When all men know you as I know you there will beno talk of mercy. Are you fool as well as villain? Go! Return to yourfine house. Flourish on my money. It shall be for a season, andthen!----"
Trevanion bit his lip. His expression told of a struggle forself-control. He glared at the Frenchman for a few moments; then, witha hollow laugh, he moved towards the door.
"Do your worst," he said, turning with his hand on the bolt. "I am inEngland; I defy you; and, by heaven! I promise you ten feet of Englishrope as a spy 'if you dare to show yourself here again."
He drew back the bolt, causing Doubledick to scuttle like a rat alongthe passage. A mocking laugh followed Trevanion as he strode from theinn.
Before there was the least hint of dawn in the sky, a man,unrecognisable in oilskins and sou'-wester, stole from the house next tothe inn, where he had been concealed when the dragoons made theirsearch, and walked rapidly to the jetty. Tonkin's lugger, the _Isaac andJacob_, lay alongside. Delarousse stepped on board; the vessel cast off;and by the time that the mass of the villagers were awake, the guest,whose presence few had known, was several leagues nearer to the Frenchshore.
But the departure of the lugger had not been wholly unobserved. In thelittle white cottage on the cliff, Joe Penwarden had enjoyed a fullnight's sleep, as he usually did when the moon was up. The sound ofhorses on the high road did not reach him, and he was ignorant of thestrange happenings in the village. But the moon was in its lastquarter; the "darks" would soon return, and with them the activity ofthe smugglers might be expected to be resumed. The cargoes weresometimes brought from Roscoff in French luggers, sometimes in the_Isaac and Jacob_, and Penwarden was accustomed to watch the sailings ofTonkin's vessel. On this particular morning he woke early, and after hehad kindled a fire, he rested his telescope on the window-sill to take alook round while the kettle was boiling. He soon spied the well-knownlugger scudding along under full sail.
"So you be at it again, Zacky," he murmured with a chuckle, as he shutthe telescope. "Well, please God, I'll be ready for 'ee."