The Four Swans (42 page)

He got up. `Enough.’ He spoke with command in his voice. `We’ve said enough. We can talk again in the morning when we are more ourselves.’

`No,’ she said, with equal decision. `If there is anything to be said it must be said tonight.’

`Well, I’ll make a bargain with you,’ he said. `Come with me tomorrow as arranged, and I’ll write to Tankard before I, leave instructing him that any and all harassments of Carne must stop forthwith. Other problems, other contentions can be dealt with later.’

No,’ she said again. ‘There is no later, George. This is the latest it can ever be.’

He walked towards the door but she stood in his way. Her lips were blotchy with lack of colour. His good intentions sliding down to hell, he raised his hand as if to strike her. She did not flinch.

She said `Why do you treat your son as if he were not your son?’

`Valentine?’

`Valentine.

He licked his lips. ‘Is he?’

`How could he be any other man’s?’ `You have to answer me that.’

`And if I do?’

`If you do?’

`Will you believe me? Will you for one single solitary second think that what I’ve told you is the truth: from my heart? Not at all! That’s why I say jealousy is eating you up! That’s why I say our life together has become impossible! It must end! It is going to end tonight!’.

He dropped his hand, stared at her with all the lowering intent of a goaded bull.

‘You must tell me, Elizabeth. You must tell me! You must tell me!

She hesitated, swung on her heel and went into her dressing room, hair floating in the wind of her own movement. For a moment he thought she was ending the scene, had done with him and was going to leave him, his most prized possession lost for ever. But she came back as quickly as she had gone. In her hand was a bible. She came up to him, set the bible on a table.

`Now,’ she said. `Listen to this, George. Listen to it, I say! I swear on this bible, as a believing Christian and in the hope of my ultimate salvation, that I have never, never given my body to any man except to my first husband, Francis, and to you, George. Is that enough? Or do you consider even my sworn oath insufficient to convince you?’

There was a long moment of silence.

`Now,’ she said, tears beginning at last to stream. `I have, done. I know, already that even that is no use a waste of time! I will leave for Trenwith in the morning.’ We can come to some arrangement some separation. I can live with my parents. You can do what you please. This is the end…’

He said thickly. `We mustn’t let this get out of hand. Elizabeth, listen to me.’ Quicksands moved in him. `If I have been in error –‘

‘If!

’

`Well, yes. Well, yes. If what you say You must give me time to think…’ He coughed, trying to clear the phlegm that had gathered.

`To think what?’

`Of course … I accept what you say - naturally I accept that. I suppose I have been a little misguided-perhaps a little crazed. Suspicion and jealousy, as you say, have been at the bottom of it..’

She waited.

He said: ‘But you know…’

`What do I know?’

`Suspicion and jealousy - you may condemn them - and rightly - but they indicate, in however distorted a way, a measure of my regard. It’s true. You may not think so but it is true. Love - love can be very possessive when it thinks itself threatened. Especially when what is threatened is - is dearer than life itself. Oh, yes,’ he hastened on as she was about to speak, `it’s simple to argue that one does not show love by lack of trust. But human nature is not so uncomplex…’

She half turned away. He followed her.

`Look,’ he said. `The very intensity of feeling I have for you breeds a contrary fever that no assurances - no ordinary assurances, that is - can bring to intermittence. Do not cry . .’

`How can I help it!’ she flared at him. `For months and more months - your bitter, vile unkindness - your coldness towards me and towards your son

‘

`Will cease,’ he said, deep emotion still gripping him, swamping his natural caution. `From now. From tonight. It’s not too late. After this we can begin again.’

`Tonight,’ she said scornfully, `perhaps you feel this tonight ! But what of - of tomorrow and the next day? It will start over afresh. I cannot - I will not go on! …’

`Nor I. It shall be. I promise, Elizabeth, listen to me. Do not cry.’

She waved away his handkerchief and wiped her streaming eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown. She went back to the dressing table, picked up the brush in her agitation, set it down.

`I do not want to leave you,’ she said. `Truly I do not. Everything I said, when we were married holds good today. More so. But I will leave you, George. I swear I will, if this ever – ‘

‘You shall not. Because I shall not be like this again.’, Again he had followed her and, taking a risk, he kissed her head but she did not shrink away.

`Well,’ she said. `I have sworn on oath! One can go no further than that. So you swear on oath ! Not even to mention, to bring up, to harbour thoughts, evil wicked suspicions,’

`I swear it,’ George, said, taking the bible from her. The emotion was still carrying, him along. He had never before in his life been so stirred. Tomorrow, in spite of the oath he was about to take, and true to her predictions, he would think again. But never perhaps quite in the same way. He must not, could not, for it had been a near thing. So Valentine, after all … He was convinced by her oath. With her quiet but steady religious beliefs, it was inconceivable that even to save her marriage she should imperil her soul by lying on the bible. So emotion caught him both ways. The nearness of the loss and the enormity of the gain. His own eyes were moist and he tried to speak but his throat closed up and he could not.

She leaned against him and he put his arms round her and kissed her.

I

As the shadows of doom lengthened round. England, so the shadows of the early summer shortened and the sun climbed high. New fleet mutinies had broken out, far worse than the first, many ships imprisoned their officers and most flew the red flag; an English revolution similar to the French was beginning, while a Dutch fleet with 30,000 troops gathered in the Texel preparing to invade; even the Guards were thought to be on the brink of seizing the Tower and the mint.

And the weather set fair-perfect invasion weather. And everyday life went on as usual: farmers tended their animals and their crops; miners dug their ore; people clattered over the cobbles to do their shopping, buying ever less for ever more; ladies complained of the unwonted heat; there was a shortage of water in country districts; the sea lapped at the iron coast, docile and scarcely raising a shiver of spray; fishermen barked their nets and prepared for, the pilchard season. Sawle feast would soon be due, and in spite of war threats there was to be the usual procession, the races, the athletic contests; Tholly Tregirls was organizing some wrestling matches. Jeremy Poldark caught the measles at last and gave it to his sister, but they both suffered mild attacks and there were no complications. Dwight Enys was looking recovered in health, but, just to make a change, Caroline was not well. Demelza hoped it was not frustration.

Ross’s frustrations, though of a different kind, continued. It was no pleasure, he said to Demelza, to command a company of slackers. Yet if he left the Volunteers and joined the Fencibles he could be moved anywhere in England at a moment’s notice, leaving not only his mine and his business concerns but his wife and children unguarded. If the French or the Dutch or the Spanish arrived they would be as likely to choose this coasts as any other, and he would prefer to be on hand to receive them.

If he had to leave Cornwall, then better return to the army proper.

At the moment, with half the navy in revolt, the army was suddenly finding itself popular.

`It would not be popular with me,’ was all Demelza said. `You have not yet been back two years safe from your last adventure.’

So summer. The Cornish sea settles into an egg-shell blue when the weather is warm, and fair and like to remain so. None of that brilliant cobalt which comes when the north-west wind is picking up, nor the transparent lacy green of the easterly breezes. Now there was no breeze, for several days no breeze at all, as if the peninsula were a three-decker, becalmed, the air become warm as well as the sun. The bent trees crouched in their accustomed postures, flinching from a taskmaster who had suddenly gone. Grasses were still, smells grew stronger, smoke rose in complacent spirals.

A day in June after Ross had left for Falmouth - he was seeing military leaders and spending the night with Verity - Demelza took the children to a pool on the edge of the sea near Damsel Point, and they all bathed in its cool bottle-green depths and then fished for shrimps and other exciting creatures that darted in and out among the seaweed and the sea anemones.

Depths, of course, was hardly the word. As, a child Demelza had seen nothing of the sea except at a distance, and so had never learned to swim. Ross would have taught her long before this except that the constant surf on Hendrawna Beach made it almost impossible to try. So her pool was shallow, yet deep enough for Jeremy to swim in and shallow enough for Clowance to avoid total submersion. And she went briefly, into a deeper pool herself near-by and managed to her satisfaction to make the other side without drowning.

It was still early, scarcely, ten o’clock, when they returned to the house glowing and laughing A few wanton clouds with vaporous edges had formed about the sky but one knew better than to take them seriously; they would soon be sucked up into the general heat.

The two children had run, shouting indoors; not content with, a morning dip they were now going with two of the Martin children and two Scobles, in the charge of Ena Daniel; down to the beach to build a great sand wall against the incoming tide. Demelza had carried a basket chair, into the shade of the old lilac tree beside the front door, and was combing out the tangles in her damp hair when she saw two horsemen riding down the valley.

With. instant recognition, which seemed to come as much from instinct as from eyesight, she got up, flew indoors and changed into a casual but seemly green linen frock from the loose twill dressing gown she had been in, and she was down in the parlour rapidly straightening and tidying when Jane came in to say a gentleman had called.

Hugh Armitage with a groom. Hugh in a light grey long-tailed riding coat and black breeches and riding boots. His stock was loose-tied and he wore no waistcoat. He seemed older and less good-looking. But then. he smiled and bent to kiss her hand, and she knew his attraction was unchanged.

`Demelza! How fortunate to find you at home. And what joy to see you again! Ross is here?’

‘Not just at the moment. Tis a surprise to have you call! I didn’t know…’

`I’ve been at Tregothnan only since Monday. I came over at the first opportunity.’

`You are on leave?’

‘Well in a manner, yes … How are you? How have you been keeping?’

`We’re all brave, thank you…’ They looked at each other uncertainly. `Please sit down. You’ll take something?’

`Not at the moment, thank you. I am at this moment I need no sort of refreshment.’

‘Then - then your man? Perhaps some beer or lemonade?’

`I’m sure he’ll like that; but there’s no hurry.’ He waited until she had seated herself and then took a seat on the edge of a chair. Although he was bronzed, she thought he did not look well. Or perhaps it was just that his eyes were troubled when they looked at her.

`How are your uncle and aunt?’

`Forgive me,’ he said, `I forget my manners. Indeed when, I see you I forget everything. They send their warmest good thoughts. My aunt was coming with me today, with both children, intent on asking you to fulfil your undertaking but John-Evelyn - that’s the younger has a touch of summer fever and Mrs Gower did not feel she could safely bring him out. I should, I know, myself have delayed a day or two, but the weather at the moment is so fair and one fears to lose it.’

`Ross has only been gone a couple of hours; he’ll be sorry to have missed you … Our undertaking? What is that?’

`He invited. Us - you both invited, us - to ride over one day this summer and see the seals.’

`Oh?’ Demelza smiled. `Dear, life, I thought you meant that. What a pity’

‘When will he be back?’

`He is perhaps not until nightfall. I’m not sure.’ She did not want Ross to be thought of as too far away.

`Perhaps another time then. But it’s such a refreshment to see you - all my most vivid memories revived and renewed. It’s like visiting a green oasis in a barren desert.’

`In deserts do they not have things called - what is it - mirages?’

`Do not poke fun at me,’ he said. `Not just at first. Not until I have got used to looking at you again.’

His reply affected her. She wrinkled an eyebrow and said ruefully: `Is not fun like a curtain one draws over other feelings? Of course I’m glad to see you too, Hugh. But it’s a summer day and more fitting to be gay than romantic. Shouldn’t we sit outside and talk in the cool for a while? Then you can send your poor groom round to the stables and he can unsaddle and rest and be fresher for the return.’

So they went out, he a trifle clumsily as if striving with a stiffness of the body; and they fetched another chair and she a fan and Jane brought them cool orangeade from the still-room; and pleasant conversation continued for a while.

His leave from the navy was indefinite, he said, and one did not know quite how long it would extend. He told her of his service, and the one brief but bloody fight he had been engaged in, lasting a solitary hour out of all his nine months at sea. Thank God, it looked as if the mutinies at the Nore and Plymouth and elsewhere were over. After days when the fate of the country hung in the balance, one ship after another had lowered the red flag and allowed its officers to take command again. The ringleaders were arrested and would be duly tried. Many of the grievances would be met.

`I wholly agree with the complaints that were made,’ said Armitage; `the navy is grossly neglected and disgracefully treated at all times; many of its enactions are centuries out of date. But as for those Nore scoundrels, I’d gladly string them up from my own yardarm:’