The Black Moon

  Sam had taken a long drink of water and had cut himself a piece of bread and a square of cheese when there was a tap at the door and he saw Bob Baragwanath standing there. Bob was Charlie’s father, and Sam had prayed with them when Charlie died. Bob was not really bright enough to understand quite all that Sam had done and said, but he had appreciated the gesture.

  ‘Yer bro’er,’ he said.

  ‘Yes? Drake? What is it? Did he leave a message?’

  ‘No. No message. Bin took. Bin took in. Hour gone. Took in a hour gone.’

  Sam put down his bread. ‘What’s amiss, Bob? Drake took? Took where?’

  ‘Constable – Constable Vage. Took ’im in a hour gone. Took ’im in the jail. Gone St Ann’s to gaol house.’

  ‘Drake? To gaol? What for? Constable Vage? I – Did you see it?’

  ‘Ay. Seen it wi’ me own eyes. Took in for stealin’! That’s what Constable d’say. Stealin’! Took ’im in a hour gone.’

  They were finishing supper when Sam arrived. During these radiant light days they dined less heavily than in the winter and so supper became a more important meal. It had been a silent meal, as a number had been of late and as the time for Ross’s leaving for France drew near. Demelza was not the one to bear a grudge against him for going, but its imminence cast a cloud over her good spirits. She did not chatter as usual about the garden or give him the benefit of her speculations as to Garrick’s thoughts when she took the baby rabbit away from him, or describe to him the actions of a bull-finch as it ate the white pulp out of an empty dandelion seed-pod. She was untalkative, and as by nature Ross did not have much small-talk it had been a silent meal.

  On this came her brother to inform them that her other brother had been arrested for stealing.

  She got up and stared at him. ‘Stealing? Drake? That is impossible, Sam.’

  ‘Yes, sister, tis impossible that he should do it, but not impossible that he should be accused.’

  ‘What do they say he has stolen?’

  ‘Well, tis hard to get the truth, but I seen Art Curnow, who were a witness to his going, and the constable d’say to him that he be accused of stealing a bible – a bible wi’ a silver clasp – out of Trenwith House.’

  ‘Trenwith House? But when? He has not been near Trenwith House for weeks and weeks, not since George – not since Mr Warleggan came home.’

  ‘I don’t know the truth of ’n, sister, I only d’know what I’m told and that Drake be committed to the gaol house at St Ann’s an’ locked away like he were a felon.’

  Ross also had risen, but he turned away from them to hide the annoyance on his face.

  ‘Who preferred the charge, do you know?’

  ‘Mr Warleggan, I bla’.’

  That was it. Mr Warleggan. And since this boy was Demelza’s brother he would press it with all the greater relish. And how could he, Ross, avoid being drawn in, and particularly avoid Demelza being embroiled in all this while he was away? Infuriating. More than ever he regretted not having taken a strong line with the boys when they arrived and sent them back to Illuggan where they belonged. At the time he had warned Demelza that at some future date her brothers might embarrass her by marrying locally and perhaps hinder her social ambitions. Never in his worst dreams had he thought of one of them having a love affair with Elizabeth’s cousin! And now to be arrested for theft – and theft of a bible of all things!

  Yet at this stage he must show none of his annoyance to Demelza. She had enough to put up with with his own delinquencies and peculiarities, his own loyalties and outside friendships and the spirit of restless unease which was sending him on this voyage to France. He could not expect her indulgence of this and not extend a similar indulgence to her.

  He said: ‘Mr and Mrs Warleggan had been away for a couple of days. Do you think Drake visited Trenwith then?’

  ‘I don’t know, Cap’n Poldark. I been away myself on the Lord’s business. I come back but this eve.’

  ‘Do you know if Drake has been seeing Miss Chynoweth during these last weeks?’

  ‘He met she two or three times in Sawle church, Sunday af’noons. But then twas all discovered and there were a big upset at Trenwith, beginning of this month. So he’s seen naught of ’em since. I b’lieve twas said Miss Chynoweth were going to be sent away.’

  ‘Apparently,’ Demelza said, ‘George has plans to marry Miss Chynoweth to someone in Truro called Whitworth. The Reverend Whitworth.’

  ‘What, Osborne Whitworth, Judge Whitworth’s son?’

  ‘I believe. It was to be a good match for her. So there was special trouble when her friendship with Drake was discovered.’

  ‘A posturing fop. You remember him, of course. He made a fuss of you more than once, but was usually outgunned by Hugh Bodrugan and John Treneglos.’

  ‘I remember him,’ Demelza said.

  ‘But who told you this?’

  ‘Drake. Last week. When he came for his writing lesson.’

  Ross stared down at his unfinished plate of raspberry tart. ‘It does not seem likely that this charge is true, surely?’

  ‘Oh, never!’ said Demelza. ‘Drake is not a thief.’

  ‘Never!’ said Sam.

  ‘Yes, well . . . that’s all very well but the charge has been preferred. There must be some grounds, however slight. The tedious part of the matter is that if the Warleggans have got their teeth into this it may be hard to persuade them to let go. Anyone else would be open to reason. Not they. You may regret it yet, Sam, that you are in any way connected with the Poldarks.’

  Sam said: ‘Maybe if I went to see them myself.’

  ‘Far from it. You would be received ill and fare worse. No, the first thing is to see Drake and discover his version of the affair. Until we know that we can do nothing.’

  There was silence. Sam said: ‘I shan’t make no rest tonight. But twill be no use going till the morning. I’ll go over see him there.’

  ‘No,’ Ross said. ‘You keep away. We do not want you committed on some other charge. I will see to it myself in the morning.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Demelza.

  ‘Until then it is useless to speculate. The accusation may yet be dropped. We have no means of knowing anything more, so it is best to discuss it no more. I’ll ride over first thing.’

  ‘God bless you,’ said Sam. ‘I shan’t make no rest tonight.’

  The ‘gaol’ at St Ann’s was in fact not a gaol at all but a lock-up house where malefactors were from time to time confined before being brought up for sentence at the local petty sessions. It was part of the house and shop of Mr Renfrew, the mine chandler, and consisted of an upper room and a lower which were both supposed to be kept free for the full operation of the law, but which Mr Renfrew himself used as part of his storage space. As a result the top room was full of coiled ropes, lanterns, blocks and tackle, hempen candles, picks, fuses and all the other paraphernalia of mining. Below was kept for its proper purpose, though the space was encroached upon by whatever Mr Renfrew deemed would not be damaged by the occasional prisoner or assist in his escape.

  On the way there Ross thought over his problem. Pursued by last-minute advice from Demelza, who, although deeply concerned for her brother, was still more deeply concerned that her husband should not repeat any of his gaol-breaking escapades of six years ago, Ross was more occupied over his line of tactics should Drake’s explanation prove a reasonable or excusable one. Seven or more years ago, when Jim Carter was had up for poaching, he had gone into Truro, appeared at the Quarter Sessions and made a public appeal for clemency. It had been rudely turned down. From that he had learned his lesson. You did not ask for a reasonable mercy in public, you approached the magistrates privately and asked, as a friendly gesture made to you personally, that they should give the offender another chance. How to work here? He could not ask favours of George Warleggan. Had he been a magistrate himself it would have helped matters along greatly. But he had turned that down. Who ever could have foreseen a case l
ike this?

  Mr Renfrew was in and greeted him effusively, puckering his short-sighted eyes in a smile. (Mr Poldark was a customer as well as Mr Warleggan.) The prisoner? Yes, Mr Poldark could see him. Of course. Naturally. The lock-up was not perhaps as clean as he, Mr Renfrew, would have wished, but they had been busy this last week. There were, in fact, two others in at the moment, waiting the next meeting of the magistrates. They had all come in yesterday and, what with one thing and another, one hadn’t been able to do all one would have wished. Charged? Oh, one had assaulted Mr Irby in his shop. The other had been drunk and had smashed some windows at the Miner’s Arms. They would be charged probably tomorrow. Would Mr Poldark come this way? Mr Poldark went this way.

  It was quite a small room with a post in the middle from floor to ceiling, for chaining up fractious prisoners. One corner of the room was full of sacks and a pile of driftwood, otherwise there was nothing but the three men. But the smell was hideous for there was no privy, and the sacking had not been moved for weeks. One man still lay asleep in his own vomit, the other two looked up as the door opened.

  Ross put his kerchief to his nose. ‘Can you give me five minutes with him outside in your yard? I promise he shall not escape.’

  ‘Well, sir . . . I suppose, if so be as you promise . . .’

  ‘You may watch us from a distance if you like.’

  Drake was let out. Blinking in the daylight, he looked uncannily pale from his night indoors. With a twinge of angry irritation Ross saw his likeness again to Demelza.

  ‘Well, boy. You’re in trouble. How did this happen?’

  ‘Oh, Cap’n Poldark, tis good of you to come. I didn’t know as you’d know. What wi’ Sam being from home and—’

  ‘Sam returned last night. He heard and told us. What is it all about?’

  ‘Well, I don’t rightly know where to begin. You d’know, I s’pose, that I took up wi’ this young lady in Trenwith House. Sister d’know all about it—’

  ‘She told me, yes.’

  ‘Well, twas all forbid when the Warleggans found out I’d been meeting of her in church. So we – so we seen nothing of one another since then. But Geoffrey – Mr Geoffrey Charles – he rebelled against it and he been over to see me more’n once. Ye see – ye see, tesn’t only Miss Morwenna – tis he also as I – as we have this friendship, see . . .’

  ‘Yes, I understand that.’

  Drake rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘This week Mr and Mrs Warleggan was visitin’, and so Mr Geoffrey Charles, he sends me a note saying they’ll be from home and can I come see him at the house just the once more, as soon he’ll be going ’way school.’

  ‘The young fool,’ Ross said. ‘He was asking.you to run yourself into trouble.’

  ‘Well, mebbe. But I reckoned I could manage it – and I did. I went through the fields – then in at the side door – they was waiting.’ Drake’s face twitched. ‘Morwenna says she is being sent away too, so it’s like good-bye for we. We just sit and talk for half an hour and then I says I must be going. So then Morwenna – she give me a scarf – so as I shall mind her – as if ever I could forget! – and Geoffrey, he d’say to me, I must give ee something too, Drake. So I’ll give ee my christening bible, he says, and that is what he done. I says, no, I can’t take ’n, tis your own, wi’ your name letters on the front and – and a clasp, I can’t take ’n. But he says, please, please, Drake – you d’know the way he has – so in the end I take ’n. Then I d’leave the house and come home. I don’t know whether someone seen me – but just then I don’t sort of care. I just come home walking blind, and lays the two presents under the straw of my bed and then I lays on it and . . . well, didn’t behave manly . . .’

  In a near-by field two men were trying to separate a cow from its calf, and the lowing of one and the bleating of the other echoed up into the cool summer morning.

  ‘What day was this?’

  ‘Tuesday eve.’

  ‘And they came for you yesterday. So in that twenty-four hours the Warleggans presumably returned, someone told them of your visit, and it was discovered that the bible was missing. Who came to your cottage?’

  ‘Constable Vage and a tall thin man with close-fixed eyes. I seen him ’bout the estate . . .’

  ‘Tankard, I expect. Did they charge you?’

  ‘They said they had reason to s’pose I had stole a bible and other pieces from Trenwith and they was goin’ to search the cottage. They found the bible were I laid’n. I’d not even so much as looked at’n since the night before when I laid’n there. Somehow I couldn’t abear to.’

  Ross stared thoughtfully at the young man. ‘Yes, well . . .’

  Drake said: ‘Tis no consarn of yours, Cap’n Poldark. Nor Sister’s. I don’t want for to make trouble. When I come up afore the magistrates I sh’ll tell the plain truth. Tis all an error, and they’ll leave me go. I done naught to be ashamed of.’

  ‘I think you would be advised to accept such help as we can give you, boy. Where there is a conflict of evidence the accused person is not always believed. Especially if one of the magistrates has a score to settle. What size was the bible?’

  ‘Oh . . . not big. This size. But pretty, G.C.P. on the outside. And a silver locking clasp.’

  ‘You were a fool to take it.’

  ‘Aye, I know that. But at the time he pressed so hard. And I was beside meself – scarce knew what I was about.’

  ‘Losing your girl, eh? Yes, that is hard. But you set your sights too high, Drake.’

  ‘When I met her I wasn’t aiming for nothing. B’lieve me. It – just come.’

  ‘Yes . . .’ Ross looked across at Renfrew, who was ostensibly counting some shovels. ‘Yes. Well, it is time you went back. Was Miss Chynoweth in the room when Geoffrey Charles gave you the bible?’

  Drake thought. ‘No. She were gone t’see if it were safe for me t’leave. But she must have seen me carrying it when she came back. I made no secret of carrying it.’

  ‘Hm. But – Geoffrey Charles is quite reliable?’

  ‘Oh, yes! I’d stake my life on that.’

  ‘You may have to,’ Ross said dryly. ‘Now go in. Renfrew! Your prisoner is ready to return.’

  Before Ross left Renfrew told him that the local magistrates were due to meet tomorrow, Friday, at the Miner’s Arms in St Ann’s. Of course, he said, if it were felt a matter of urgency, one or other of them might hear these three cases today and sentence the men or have them sent off to Truro; but with a normal meeting due tomorrow it was almost certain it would all be postponed until then.

  Ross nodded, and thanked Renfrew and mounted and trotted off. He thought Renfrew was right. The only magistrate who would be likely to disturb his day to dispose of one particular case was George, and Ross felt that George, as a new man, would not wish to appear to be taking too much on himself, particularly as the case involved an alleged theft from his own property. However much he might want to see Drake sentenced, or sent off to await sentence, he would do nothing to offend his fellows on the bench or appear to make free with his new authority.

  That left a day. The magistrates met at eleven, so there was rather more than twenty-four hours. How to utilize them? Very well to say, I was stupid last time; this must be quite different. How different? By approaching each magistrate privately and in turn? But who would be at St Ann’s tomorrow? Who would turn up? Trevaunance, Bodrugan, Treneglos? Warleggan certainly. And how to approach the others? A theft of a bible with a silver clasp was a serious offence. You could not expect them to regard it lightly. It might well be considered too serious for them to try and the boy would be sent off to the Quarter Sessions. If the bible was considered to be worth more than forty shillings the offence, if proved, could be punishable by death. Ross was not sure what the position of minors was in the courts, whether they could be called and what weight their evidence carried. It would not be impossible for George, if he felt vindictive enough, to strengthen his case by some servant’s testimony which would
outweigh anything told by Geoffrey Charles.

  A nasty problem, and he thought to put it before Demelza and see what her feelings and counsel were. But as he neared home his mood changed and his direction with it. Demelza, for all her good sense and judgment, was out of her depth here. She was personally involved for Drake’s safety; she knew nothing of law or the tactics which might be necessary to defeat the charge. Who did? Nobody nearer than Harris Pascoe in Truro – or old Notary Pearce. And their advice? Legal, grey and conformist. He could hear them. Get the case referred to Quarter Sessions. Better likelihood of an unprejudiced trial. More time to prepare a defence and sift the evidence. But when would such a trial take place? Ross was due to leave for Falmouth on Sunday, or at the latest Monday. He might be away a month. Anything he could do before Monday would be nullified if he were not present when the case came up.

  He had changed direction as he left Grambler village, and he trotted on past the Gatehouse, skirting his own land and coming down over the sandhills to the sea, very much where Geoffrey Charles and Morwenna had been accustomed to come. No wind, for once, and he hooked the reins of Judith over a convenient post and left her there, to walk on the beach.

  As sometimes happens on still mornings, there was a momentous surf. It rode in like line upon line of matchless cavalry immolating itself before an impregnable position. Never ending, as fast as one line died another appearing, it pounded in against the obstructing beach. Here and there, where a rock stuck out, white peacock fans shot into the air and drifted, gradually disintegrating into sun-shot mist. The air drummed with sound and motion. Ross began to walk.