Warleggan (25 page)

In a moment he had disappeared from her side. She heard
the running footsteps.. She hastily slipped back into the house
-stumbled through the dark kitchen and into the hall. The
soldier swung his musket on her, surprised and then angry. 'Where've ye been? How did ye get down?' She took a deep breath. 'By the back stairs.'

He said: 'What back stairs? Ye never told me! Why did
…’

'Well, I'm back' Is that not enough!'

The soldier too heard the running feet on the cobbles and again lifted his musket. Vercoe and his assistant Bell burst in on them.

Put your musket down, man!' Vercoe said in a quarter-deck voice. He was blazing with anger. 'One of your kind has took pot shots at us already!' He turned to Demelza, 'Where is Captain Poldark, ma'am?'

'In St. Ives, I believe.

'Then you believe wrong! I was wrestling with him on the beach not ten minutes gone. Has he come in here, trooper?'

'Nay. No
one's come in here but you.'

'We last seen him making this way. He'll
be somewhere about the house,
never doubt!'

'
You've no right to come breaking in here!' Demelza protested, finding relief in anger. 'What right have you to trespass on our property? My husband will hear of this ! Why, if
…’

'He surely will ! And soon, I trust

'How do you know 'twas him? Is it daylight outside? Did you speak him by name's' Of course not! I tell you he's from home and-'

'Look ee, ma'am,'' said Vercoe, controlling his anger. "Twas Captain Poldark I seen on the beach or his brother an'
twin. I'll beg your pardon if
I've the need to, but I don't suppose it likely.... An' what's that blood on your gown?'

'Blood?' she said, looking at the smear. Her stomach twisted, So Ross' was hurt. 'It came from my wrist, I grazed it against the wall just now. See-'

Vercoe made an impatient gesture. 'You'll give us permission to search the house?'

'If I did not give it, you would take it,'

Well, mebbe. The law must be served. Will you please go in the parlour with the servants.'

'No I surely will not! You may force yourself into the house,
but
you may not order me about. I
shall come with you
Before Vercoe could argue about it, there was the sound of more footsteps in the kitchen and Another trooper appeared. With him, calf dragged and half led, was Dwight Enys, a bloodstained rag, about his head. The soldier had caught him in the process of feeding the bonfire, and had knocked him
out

In
the cove the p
itched battle in the dark had
died down. Seven of the smugglers had been. captured, of whom t
wo were wounded and one killed.
A soldier and an excise man had been wounded. But owing to the premature alarm, the others had escaped. What was worse, the cutter had been able to weigh anchor and haul off from the lee of the land before the goverment cutter, standing rapidly in from the northeast, had been able to head her off. Shots had been exchanged, but the One and All, built in Mevagissey especially for the Trade, had run clean away from the government ship.

The smuggler killed was Ted Carkeek. He left a widow of twenty-one -and two young children. The soldier wounded was Captain McNeil. Someone had shot him in the shoulder. An inch or, so
lower, and he would have companioned Ted.

He was almost the last to reach Nampara House, where by orders his men had forgathered with their prisoners. He came into the parlour holding a rough pad to his shoulder. The parlour was already part hospital, with Dwight, paper
-
coloured from loss of blood, trying to help those who were worse off than himself. As McNeil surveyed the scene and exchanged a word with, his corporal, Vercoe and Bell and Demelza came down the stairs.

'Well?"

Vercoe shook his head. 'No, sur. Captain. Poldark's
not here, though I'll swear he
was on the beach!'

'I've still
three men posted they may bring
him in. You've tried the cellars?'

'Yes, they're empty.'

'No contraband?'

'None.'

McNeil met the angry flash of Demelza's eves. 'Ross is in
St. Ives,' she said. 'I've told these men. And I told you.'

'I should be happy to believe you'

'You're wounded,' she said. 'Your coat--all that
blood.... I'll get Dr. Enys-'
'When my work is done.' He turned to Vercoe., We must
comb the
cottages round. You've examined the outhouses of this place,
the
stables, the library?'

'The stables. Not the library. 'Twas locked. I left that till you came'

'We'll go now, then.'

Demelza
felt as if
this time her face must betray everything.

'The library?' she said, when they turned to her. 'I
-
have the
key somewhere....
But your wound, Captain McNeil:'

Will keep a
little while. It is not the first time I have been blooded'

They went through into Joshua's old bedroom, Vercoe and McNeil, and Bell carrying a
lantern. With fumbling fingers
Demelza unlocked the door to the library and went in. The long shabby room showed up, never used for its named purpose, full of mining samples and boxes of
lumber and
two desks and an iron safe. As soon as t
he lantern followed her in, she
knew he had come as he s
aid, he would. The metal trunks which normally
stood above the trap door had been moved.

She stood against the door, not able to trust her leg
s, while the men went round the room.
Vercoe carried a musket belonging to one of the troopers. He looked like a hunter after game. And the game was gone to earth.

F
irst they examined the things in the room itself, opening the desks,and the boxes, looking for contraband. After a moment or two she followed them halfway, watching them from the centre of the room. Then quite close to her she saw a spot of blood. It was tiny and already drying. She moved a little and put her foot on it rubbed it into the boards.

But
she might have known it was no
use. Something in Vercoe's words or the way he spoke them had for
ewarned her that this was
no ordinary search. They began to examine the floor.

So the informer had done
his work.

They had come to the metal trunks,
and Vercoe had seen the joins
in the
floor boards. He knelt by them
and motioned Bell to bring forward the lantern.

Demelza said: 'I
want you
-'

Malcolm McNeil straightened up and looked at the girl who had come up behind him. He said: 'I think you would do well to leave us.'

She shook her
head, not trusting her voice any
more. He gazed at her a second longer, and then, made a gesture for the two gaugers to continue.

Vercoe had found a Spade and was forcing it into the narrow
nick of the floor boards. With a squeal of strained wood
they began to come up, for they were being lifted from the wrong side. After a minute he got his hand under the lifted boards, and Bell, putting the lantern down, knelt to help him. The trap door came up and the cache was open. McNeil took a step forward.

From where Demelza stood she could not see in. The room was humming and drumming about her ears. Rectangles of wall
and roof began to dissolve into the un
certain geometries of faintness
and nausea. All three men were around the hole, like
jackals about a fallen beast, like hounds at the kill. For a few seconds they were involved in the general unreason of failing eyesight, of distortion and, instability. Then she put
out a hand and with a great effort steadied
herself against
a
chair.

She did not know who would speak first, whether it would be Ross or one of his captors; but in, fact it was McNeil, and
all he said was': 'Well...
' and made a gesture to Vercoe.

Vercoe grunted.

Then no one spoke again and no one stirred. At last she forced, her limbs to move. she looked down. The cache was empty.

At three o'clock the following afternoon, having been granted his freedom on recognizances of £20, Dwight rode in at the gates of Killewarren. If there had been need for subterfuge before, the time for it was over.

For a while, he could get no answer either to his rings or his knocks; but eventually the door was opened by the footman Thomas who had often shown him in before. He raised his eyebrows at sight of Dwight's bandaged head and bruised
face.

'I've called to see Miss, Caroline Penvenen.'

'She's gone, sir. This forenoon with her uncle.' 'Gone?'

'They've left for London House be closed, sirs except for the servants. I don't know when they be coming
back.
A month may be.'

Dwight was unable to think what to say. 'What time did they go?'

'Just after ten. They was both, anxious to be off, so they decided to dine on the way.'

'Was any message, left, do, you know? I had expected one.' The man stared at him doubtfully. 'Not as I know. But I'll
ask the housekeeper if you'll step inside.' 'I'll wait here,'

The man was gone several minutes and then brought back a sealed letter. 'Miss Penvenen gived this to the housekeeper, just as she was leaving. No address. Just Dr. Enys. I suppose
she knew you'd call, sir.'

Dwight turned away
from the house and,
ignoring
the man's talk, stood by his horse fumbling with the seal.

The letter was
dated:
9 A.M.
Sunday, the third of February, 1
793

Dear Dwight,

I
am
leaving with my uncle for London
within the hour, a move which cannot surprise you after the fiasco of last night. Need I tell you of it? Your, servant will already have given his account.

I waited. Oh yes, I waited
like a dutiful Bride, you will have been gratified to know, for nearly two hours, while my coachman and my maid yawned their heads off
-
and no doubt snickered behind their hands
-
and your servant made so many excuses that I wondered at his invention.

But at the beginning he had told me all it was really necessary to know.

It is for the best this.
way.
Dwight. Certainly far better
that it should have happened now that later. I have known of you
r unhappiness, for more than a
month. Ever since we agreed to elope I have seen the struggle going on, the fight between your infatuation for me and your real love, which is your work in Sawle and Grambler. Wel
l, your real love has won, and
won so triumphantly
-
on the very day when I might most have expected to occup
y your mind that I am quite put to r
out.

Now you need not worry about
it any more: you need give u
p nothing but me, and that you
ha
ve already don
e. Perhaps it is for the best in more ways than on
e We know so small
part of each other, I of you and you of me. No doubt we should have learned more in Bath, and then it would have been a little late.

So this is good-bye, Dwight. Do not fe
ar
I shall c
ome to Cornwall to disturb you
again. Not by two hundred miles. Thank you for the lessons you, have taught me. They at least will not be forgotten by
Your sincere friend,

Caroline Penvenen

At five o'clock that afternoon, just before the first dusk, six men waited on Charlie Kempthorne in his cottage at the head of Sawle Combe. Their faces were as grim as their mission merited; but they found no one to welcome them. Charlie Kempthorne had gone; taking with him his easy smile and his coug
h, and a bag of silver he had
saved and hidden under the floor. He had also taken his wedding clothes, which he had been making himself, and his Bible and such of his more recent purchases, like the cups and
saucers and the mirror, as he
could carry..

All he left was Lottie and May
crouching terrified in a corner
of the room upstairs. When they could be persuaded to speak, they said their father had given them a silver piece each and had gone at daylight, warning them not to stir out of doors for far of
t
heir lives. They did not know where he had gone. Frustrated and angry, some of the men wanted to bun the cottage and beat the children; but moderate views prevailed, and word was sent to St. Ann's to the aunt of the little girls to come and claim them quickly,

Charlie also left behind his wife-to-be, Dwight's interference
had broken two romances. Rosina, at first incredulous, presently found in her memory small factual proofs. She had never really loved Charlie, but after a while she had responded gratefully to his admiration and attentions. It needed an emotional
somersault now to realise and
to condemn; for
a
while it was more than she was capable of and she went about in a daze, knowing hurt but not hate, answering the questions put to her flatly and without interest. Only occasionally a spark of anger
showed when someone's question
seemed to suggest that her own innocence could not be as complete as it, seemed.

The six men who
had called on
Charlie did not give up their efforts at the sight of an empty cottage. They believed he would not move very fast or be able to travel without leavin
g a trail. News travels far in
country districts, and the informer is the most hated of m
en. They thought
they might catch up
with him
yet.

At seven o'clock that evening Ross came out of the cache where he had been hiding without food or water for eighteen hours
-
and in air
that n
o one unused to the bad air of
mines would have been able to tolerate for a quarter of the time. He had forced himself to wait until full dark, knowing that other men could be as patient as he. When
he climbed up into the library,
his eyes-so long accustomed to darkness were able to pick out the window, the articles of f
urniture, and the door into the
garden. He tried this, expecting it
to be locked; but it was not and he stepped into the fresh
air. There were lights in the house, but before, he would approach it he made a cautious detour of the outbuildings and the surrounding garden and stream. Then he approached
the house and looked in at each of the
lighted windows. All the troopers had gone.

So at last he Went in to Demelza, who for eighteen hours had been wondering what had become of him and had been
imagining that the blood from his knuckles had been
escaping from some untended artery.

The cache, having been dug to Mr. Trencrom's specifications, had a false-side moving on a central swivel, with a secondary and larger cache beyond, It was a not uncommon device among the more intelligent of the smuggling fraternity of Cornwall, but it, was one
that seldom
failed to deceive.

The
men who had, done this job, being all miners except for one farmer and one carpenter, had complet
ed the work with exceptional
thoroughness and skill. They had made the second cache large enough to conceal a considerable amount of contraband, but Ross had not supposed when he watched it done that it would ever be used to conceal himself.