The Light of Scarthey: A Romance
CHAPTER XXVII
THE LIGHT AGAIN--THE LADY AND THE CARGO
Does not all the blood within me Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, As the spring to meet the sunshine!
_Hiawatha._
"Curwen," said Captain Jack, suddenly--the two stood together at thehelm on the afternoon of the same day, and the _Peregrine_ was oncemore alone, a speck upon the waste of waters, "I have made up my mindto return to Scarthey."
The mate wagged his bushy eyebrows and shifted his hand on the helm."Ay, ay, sir," he said, after just an instant's pause.
"I would not run you and the men into unnecessary danger, that you maybe sure of; but the fact is, Curwen, I'm in a devil of a fix allround. There's no use hiding it from you. And, all things considered,to land the lady and the cargo at the lighthouse itself, gives me asfair a chance of getting out of it as any plan I can think of. Thecargo's not all my own and it's a valuable one, I daresay you haveguessed as much; and it's not the kind we want revenue men to pryinto. I could not unload elsewhere that I know of, without creatingsuspicion. As to storing it elsewhere, it's out of the question.Scarthey's the place, though it's a damned risky one just now! Butwe've run many a risk together in our day, have we not?"
"Ay, sir; who's afraid?"
"Then there's the lady," lowering his voice; "she's Lady Landale, myfriend's wife, the wife of the best friend ever man had. Ay, youremember him, I doubt not--the gentleman seaman of the _Porcupine_--Iowe him more than I can ever repay, and he owes me something too.That sort of thing binds men together; and see what I have done tohim--carried off his wife!"
Curwen grunted, enigmatically, and disengaged a hand to scratch hischin.
"I must have speech with him. I must, it is enough to drive me mad tothink what he may be thinking of me. What I purpose is this: we'lldisguise the ship as far as we can (we have the time), paint her a newstreak and alter those topsails, change the set of the bowsprit andstrike out her name."
"That's unlucky," said the mate.
"Unlucky, is it? Well, she's not been so lucky this run that we needfear to change the luck. Then, Curwen, we'll slip in at night at ahigh tide, watching for our opportunity and a dark sky; we'll unshipthe cargo, and then you shall take command of her and carry her off tothe East Coast and wait there, till I am able to send you word or joinyou. It will only be a few hours danger for the men, after all."
Still keeping his seaman eye upon the compass, Curwen cleared histhroat with a gruesome noise. Then in tones which seemed to issue withdifficulty from some immense depth:
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "that ain't a bargain."
"How now?" cried his captain, sharply.
"No, sir," rolling his head portentously; "that don't run to abargain, that don't. The lads of the _Peregrine_ 'll stick to theirskipper through thick and thin. I'll warrant them, every man Jack ofthem; and if there was one who grumbled, I'd have my knife in himbefore another caught the temper from him--I would, or my name's notCurwen. If ye bid us steer to hell we'll do it for you, sir, andwelcome. But for to go and leave you there--no, sir, it can't bedone."
Captain Jack gave a little laugh that was as tender as a woman's tear.Curwen rolled his head again and mumbled to himself:
"It can't be done."
Then Jack Smith clapped his hand on the sailor's shoulder.
"But it's got to be done!" he cried. "It is the only thing you can doto help me, Curwen. To have our _Peregrine_ out in the daylight onthat coast would be stark madness--no disguise could avail her, andyou can't change your ugly old phiz, can you? As for me, I must have afew days on shore, danger or no danger. Ah, Curwen," with a sudden,passionate outbreak, "there are times when a man's life is the leastof his thoughts!"
"Couldn't I stop with you, sir?"
"I would not trust the ship to another, and you would double the riskfor me."
"I could double a blow for you too," cried the fellow, hoarsely. "Butif it's got to be--it must be. I'll do it, sir."
"I count on it," said the captain, briefly.
As the ring of his retreating steps died away upon his ear the mateshook his head in melancholy fashion:
"Women," he said, "is very well, I've nought to say against them intheir way. And the sea's very well--as I ought to know. But women andthe sea, it don't agree. They's jealous one of the other and a mangets torn between."
As Molly sat in her cabin, watching the darkening sky outside withdreaming eyes, she started on seeing Captain Jack approach, andinstead of passing her with cold salute, halt and look in.
"I would speak a word with you," he said.
"On deck, then," said Molly. She felt somehow as if under the broadheaven they were nearer each other than in that narrow room. The seawas rough, the wind had risen and still blew from the north, it wascold; but her blood ran too fast these days to heed it.
She drew one of the capes of her cloak over her head and staggering alittle, for the schooner, sailing close to the wind, pitched androlled to some purpose, she made for her usual station at thebulwarks.
"Well?" she asked.
He briefly told her his purpose of returning to Scarthey direct.
Her eye dilated; she grew pale.
"Is that not dangerous?"
He made a contemptuous gesture.
"But they must be watching for you on that coast. You have sunk theboat--killed those men. To return there--My God, what folly!"
"I must land my goods, Madam. You forget that I have more contrabandon board than, smuggler as I am, even I bargained for."
"If it is for me?--I would rather fling myself into the waves thisinstant than that you should expose yourself to danger."
"Then I should fling myself after you, and that would be moredangerous still."
He smiled a little mockingly upon her as he spoke; but the wordscalled a transient fire into her face.
"You would risk your life to save me?" she cried.
"To save Adrian's wife, Madam."
"_Bah!_"
He would have gone then, but she held him with her free hand. She wasagain white to the lips. But her eyes--how they burned!
He would have given all his worth to avoid what he felt was coming. Awoman, at such a juncture may forbid speech, or deny her ear: a man,unless he would seem the first of Josephs or the last of coxcombs,dare not even hint at his unwelcome suspicions.
"I will not have you go into this danger, I will not!" stammered Mollyincoherently. The dusk was spreading, and her eyes seemed to growlarger and larger in the uncertain light.
"Lady Landale, you misunderstand. It is true that to see you safelyrestored to your husband's roof is an added reason for my return toScarthey--but were you not on board, I should go all the same. I willtell you why, it is a secret, but you shall know it. I have treasureson board, vast treasures confided to me, and I must store them insafety till I can give them back to their rightful owners. This I canonly do at Scarthey--for to cruise about with such a cargoindefinitely is as impossible as to land it elsewhere. And more thanthis, had I not that second reason, I have yet a third that urges meto Scarthey still."
"For Madeleine?" she whispered, and her teeth gleamed between herlips.
He remained silent and tried gently to disengage himself from herslender fingers, but the feeling of their frailness, the knowledge ofher wound, made her feeble grasp as an iron vice to his manliness.
She came closer to him.
"Do you not remember then--what she has said to you? what she wrote toyou in cold blood--the coward--in the very moment when you werestaking your life for love of her? I remember, if you do not--'Youhave deceived me,' she wrote, and her hand never trembled, for thewords ran as neatly and primly as ever they did in her convent copybooks. 'You are not what you represented yourself to be--You havetaken advantage of the inexperience of an ignorant girl, I have beendeluded and deceived. I never wish to see you, to hear of you again.'"
"For Heaven's sake, Lady Landale----" cried the man fiercely.
Molly laughed--one of those laughs that have the ring of madness inthem.
"Do I not remember? Ah, that is not all! She knows you now for whatyou are, knows what your 'mission' is--but you must not believe shewrites in anger. No, she----"
Captain Jack's patience could bear no further strain.
"Be silent," he commanded fiercely, and wrenched his arm away to faceher with menacing eyes.
"Ah, does it rouse so much anger in you even to hear repeated what shedid not hesitate to write, did not hesitate to allow me to read? Andyet you love her? If you had seen her, if you knew her as I do! I tellyou she means it; when she wrote that she was not angry; it was thetruth--she did it in cold blood. She loved you, you think, and yet shebelieved you a liar; she loved you, and she thinks you a traitor toall she holds dear. She believes that of _you_, and you ... you loveher still!"
"Lady Landale!"
"Listen--she could never love you, as you should be loved. She was notborn your kin. Between you and her there is nothing--nothing but yourown fancy. Do not risk your life again for her--your life!"
She stopped, drew her breath with a long gasp, the spray from aturbulent wave came dashing across the bows into her face, and as oncethe blood of Cecile de Savenaye had been roused by the call of thewild waters to leave safety and children and seek her doom, so now theblood she had transmitted to her child, leaped to the same impulseand bore her onwards with irresistible force.
"When," she pursued, "in the darkness you took me in your arms andkissed me; what did the touch of my lips bring to you? My lips, notMadeleine's.... Were you not happy then? Oh, you were, do not deny it,I felt, I knew our souls met! My soul and yours, not yours andMadeleine's. And I knew then that we were made for each other. The seaand the wide free life upon it: it draws me as it draws you; it wasthat drew me to you before I had ever seen you. Listen, listen. Do notgo to Scarthey--you have your beautiful ship, your faithfulcrew--there are rich and wonderful worlds, warm seas that beckon. Youcan have life, money, adventure--and love, love if you will. Take it,take me with you! What should I care if you were an adventurer, asmuggler, a traitor? What does anything matter if we are onlytogether? Let us go, we have but one life, let us go!"
Bereft of the power of movement he stood before her, and the sweatthat had gathered upon his brow ran down his face. But, as the meaningof her proposition was borne in upon him, a shudder of fury shook himfrom head to foot. No man should have offered dishonour to Jack Smithand not have been struck the next instant at his feet. But a woman--awoman, and Adrian's wife!
"Lady Landale," he said, after a silence during which the beating ofher heart turned her sick and cold, and all her fever heat fell fromher, leaving nothing but the knowledge of her shame, her misery, herhopeless love. "Lady Landale, let me bring you back to your cabin--itis late."
She went with him as one half-conscious. At the door she paused. Thelight from within fell upon his face, deeply troubled and white, butupon the lips and brows, what scorn! He was a god among men.... Howshe loved him, and he scorned her! Poor Murthering Moll!
She looked up.
"Have you no word for me?" she cried passionately.
"Only this, Lady Landale: I will forget."
* * * * *
Back towards the distant northern light the schooner clove hervaliant way in spite of adverse winds and high seas.
The return journey was slower than the outward, and since the secondday of it the lady kept much to her cabin, while the captain wouldpace the deck till far into the night, with unwonted uneasiness. Tohim the white wings of his _Peregrine_ were bearing him all too slowlyfor endurance, while to the stormy woman's heart that beat through thenight watches in passionate echo to his restless tread, every instantthat passed but brought nearer the prospect of a future so intolerablethat she could not bring herself to face it.
A gloom seemed to have come over the tight little craft, and to havespread even to the crew, who missed the ring of their captain's jollylaugh and the sound of his song.
When, within a day's sail of the goal, the planned disguise wasfinally carried out upon the schooner's fair sides and rigging, herbeautiful stretch of sail curtailed, and her name (final disgrace),superseded by the unmeaning title of _The Pretty Jane_, open murmursbroke out which it required all Curwen's severity--and if the oldmartinet did not execute the summary justice he had threatened he wasquite equal to the occasion nevertheless--and all Jack's personalinfluence to quell.
The dawn of the next day crept gloomily upon a world of rain; withlong faces the men paddled about the deck, doing their duty insilence; Curwen's old countenance, set into grimmer lines than ever,looked as if it had just been detached from the prow of some vesselafter hard experience of stress and storm. The spirits of the captainalone seemed to rise in proportion as they drew nearer land.
"The moon sets at half-past eleven," he said to Curwen, "but we neednot fear her to-night. By half-past twelve I reckon on your havingthose twenty-five damned casks safe in the cave you took them from; itis a matter of three journeys. And then the nose of the _Pretty Jane_must be pointed for the Orkneys. All's going well."
* * * * *
Night had fallen. "The gaudy bubbling and remorseful day" had "creptinto the bosom of the sea." From the cross-trees the look-out man hadalready been able to distinguish through the glass the faint distantglimmer of Scarthey beacon, when Captain Jack knocked for admittanceat Lady Landale's cabin for the last time, as he thought, with a sighof relief.
"In the course of an hour, Madam," he said in a grave tone, "I hope torestore you to land. As for me, I shall have again to hide in thepeel, though I hope it will not be for long. My fate--and by my fate Imean not only my safety, but my honour, which, as you know, is nowbound up in the safety of the treasures--will be in your hands. For Imust wait at Scarthey till I can see Adrian again, and upon yourreturn to Pulwick I must beg you to be the bearer of a message to askhim to come and see me."
She replied in a voice that trembled a little:
"I will not fail you."
But her great eyes, dark circled, fixed upon him with a meek,sorrowful look, spoke dumbly the troublous tale of her mind. In hersubdued mood the likeness to Madeleine was more obtrusive than it hadever yet been. He contemplated her with melancholy, and drew a heavysigh.
Molly groaned in the depths of her soul, though her lips tight setbetrayed no sound. Oh, miserable chaos of the human world, that suchpent up love should be wasted--wasted; that they, too, young andstrong and beautiful, alone together, so near, with such glorioushappiness within their reach, should yet be so perversely far asunder!
There was a long silence. They looked into each other's eyes; but hewas unseeing; his mind was far away, dwelling upon the memory of thatlast meeting with his love under the fir trees of Pulwick only tendays ago, but now as irrevocably far as things seem that may neveragain be. At length, she made a movement which brought him back topresent reality--a movement of her wounded arm as if of pain. And hecame back to Lady Landale, worn with the fatigue of these long days inthe cramped discomfort of a schooner cabin, thinned by pain andfevered thinkings, shorn of all that daintiness of appearance whichcan only be maintained in the midst of luxury, and yet, by the lightof the flickering lamp, more triumphantly beautiful than ever.
His thoughts leaped to his friend with a pang of remorse.
"You are suffering--you are ill," he said. "Thus do I bring you backto him who last saw you so full of strength.... But you will recoverat Pulwick."
"Suffering, ill! Ah, my God!" As if suffocating, she pressed her handupon her heart, and bowed her head till it rested on the table. Andthen he heard her murmur in a weary voice:
"Recover at Pulwick! My God, my God! The air at Pulwick will stifleme, I think."
He waited a moment in silence and saw that she was weeping. Then hewent out and closed the door behind him with gentle hand.
Nearly all the lights of the ship
were now extinguished, and in agloom as great as that in which they had started upon theirunsuccessful venture, the _Peregrine_ and her crew returned to thelittle island which had already been so fateful to them.
Captain Jack had taken the helm himself, and Curwen stood upon hisright hand waiting patiently for his commands. For an hour or so theyhung off the shore. The rain fell close and fine around them; it wasas if sea and sky were merging by slow imperceptible degrees into one.The beacon light looming, halo encircled, through the mist, seemed,like a monster eye, to watch with unmoved contempt the restlessness ofthese pigmies in the grand solitude of the night.
Who shall say with what conflict of soul Molly, in her narrowseclusion, saw the light of Scarthey grow out of the dimness till itsrays fell across the darkened cabin and glimmered on her wedding ring?
At last the captain drew his watch, and by the faint rays upon thebinnacle saw the hour had come.
"Boat loaded, Curwen?" he asked in a low voice.
"This hour, sir."
"Ready to cast?"
"Right, sir."
"Now, Curwen."
Low, from man to man, the order ran through the ship, and the anchorwas dropped, almost within a musket shot of the peel. It was hightide, but no hand but Captain Jack's would have dared risk the vesselso close. She swung round, ready to slip at a moment's notice.
He left the helm; and in the wet darkness cannoned against the burlyfigure of his mate.
"You, Curwen? Remember we have not a moment to lose. Remain here--assoon as the men are back from the last run, sheer off."
He grasped the horny hand.
Curwen made an inarticulate noise in his big throat, but the grip ofhis fingers upon his master's was of eloquence sufficient.
"Let some one call the lady."
A couple of men ran forward with dark lanterns. The rest gatheredround.
"Now, my lads, brisk and silent is the word."
The cabin door opened, and Molly came forth, the darkness hid thepallor of her face, but it could not hide the faltering of her steps.Captain Jack sprang forward and gave her his arm, and she leant uponit without speaking, heavily. For one moment she stopped as if shecould not tear her feet from the beloved planks, but Curwen caught herby the other arm; and then she was on the swinging ladder. And so sheleft the _Peregrine_.
* * * * *
The gig was almost filled with barrels; there was only room for thefour oarsmen selected, besides the captain and herself. The boatshoved off. She looked back and saw, as once before, the great wall ofthe ship's side rise sheer above the sea, saw the triangle of lightagain slide down to lie a span above the water-line. With what aleaping heart she had set forth, that black night, away from thehateful lighthouse beam to that glimmer of promise and mystery! Andnow! She felt herself grow sick at the thought of that home-coming; atthe vision of the close warm rooms, of her husband's melancholy eyes.Yet, as she sat, the sleeve of the captain's rough sailor coat touchedher shoulder, and she remembered she was still with him. It was notall death yet.
In less than three minutes they touched ground. He jumped into thewater, and stretched out his arms for Molly. She rose giddily, and hisembrace folded her round. The waves rolled in with surge and thud anddashed their spray upon them; and still the rain fell and beat uponher head, from which she had impatiently pushed her hood. But herspirit had no heed for things of the body this night.
Oh, if the sea would open sudden deeps before them! if even thequicksand would seize them in its murderous jaws, what ecstasy thehideous lingering death might hold for her, so that only she lay,thus, in his arms to the end!
It was over now; his arms had clasped her for the last time. She stoodalone upon the dry sand, and her heart was in hell.
He was speaking; asking her pardon for not going at once with her tosee her into the keep, but he dared not leave the beach till his cargowas landed, and he must show the men the way to the caves. Would sheforgive him, would she go with him?
Forgive him! Go with him! She almost laughed aloud. A few poor momentsmore beside him; they would be as the drops of water to the burningtongue of Dives.
Yes, she would go with him.
One by one the precious caskets were carried between a couple of men,who stumbled in the darkness, close on their captain's heels. And thelady walked beside him and stood beside him without a word, in thefalling rain. The boat went backwards and forwards twice; before thehour had run out, the luckless cargo was all once more landed, and thecaptain heard with infinite relief the last oar-strokes dwindling awayin the distance, and saw the lights suddenly disappear.
"You have been very patient," he said to Molly then, with a gentlenote in his voice.
But she did not answer. Are the souls of the damned patient?
* * * * *
"My Lady and Mr. the Captain! My God--my God! so wet--so tired!Enter--enter in the name of heaven. It is good, in verity, to have MyLady back, but, Mr. the Captain, is it well for _him_ to be here? AndMadam is ill? She goes pale and red by turns. Madam has the fever forsure! And her arm is hurt, and she is as wet as the first time shecame here. Ah, Lord God, what are we coming to? Fire we must have. Ishall send the wife."
"Ay, do so, man," cried Captain Jack, looking with concern at LadyLandale, who in truth seemed scarcely able to stand, and whosefluctuating colour and cracked fevered lips gave painful corroborationto Rene's surmise, "your mistress must be instantly attended to."
But Molly arrested the servant as he would have hurried past upon hiserrand.
"Your master?" she said in a dry whisper, "is he at Pulwick?"
"His honour! My faith, I must be but half-awake yet. Imbecile that Iam, his honour--where is he? Is he not with you? No, indeed, he is notat Pulwick, My Lady; he has gone to St. Malo to seek you. Nothingwould serve him but that he must go. And so he did not reach in timeto meet you? Ah, the poor master--what anxiety for him!"
Captain Jack glanced in dismay at his friend's wife, met her suddenlyillumined gaze and turned abruptly on his heel, with a grinding noise.
"See to your mistress," he said harshly, "I hear your women folk areroused overhead; hurry them, and when Lady Landale no longer requiresyou, I must speak with you on an urgent business of my own. You willfind me in my old room."
"Go with the captain at once, Rene, since he wants you," interposedMolly quickly, "here comes Moggie. She will take care of me. Leave me,leave me. I feel strong again. Good-night, Captain Smith, I shall seeyou to-morrow?"
There was a wistful query in her voice and look.
Captain Smith bowed distantly and coldly, and hastened from the room,accompanied by Rene, while open-mouthed and blinking, rosy, blowsy,and amazed, Mrs. Potter made her entry on the scene and stared at hermistress with the roundest of blue eyes.
* * * * *
"My good Renny," said the captain, "I have no time to lose. I have ahard hour's work to do, before I can even think of talking. I wantyour help. Your light will burn all safe for the time, will it not?Hark ye, man, you have been so faithful a fellow to my one friend thatI am going to trust to you matters which concern my own honour and myown life. Ask no question, but do what I tell you, if you would helpone who has helped your master long ago; one whom your master wouldwish you to help."
Thus adjured, Rene repressed his growing astonishment at theincomprehensible development of events. And having, under direction,provided the sailor with a lantern, and himself with a wide tarpaulinand sundry carpenter's tools, he followed his leader readily enoughthrough the ruinous passages, half choked up with sand, which led fromthe interior of the ruins to one of the sea caves.
Before reaching the open-mouthed rocky chamber, the captain obscuredthe light, and Rene promptly barked his shins against a barrel.
"_Sacrebleu_," he cried, feeling with quick hands the nature of theobstruction, "more kegs?"
"The same, my friend! Now hang that tarpaulin agains
t the mouth of thecave and be sure it is close; then we may again have some light uponthe matter. What we must do will not bear interference, and movingglimmers on a dark night have told tales before this."
As soon as the beach entrance was made secure, the captain uncoveredhis lantern; and as the double row of kegs stood revealed, his eyesrapidly scanned their number. Yes, they were all there: five andtwenty.
"Now, to work, man! We have to crack every one of these nuts, and takethe kernels out."
Even as he spoke, he turned the nearest cask on end, with a blow ofchisel and mallet stove in the head and began dragging out quantitiesof loose tow. In the centre of the barrel, secured in position on to astout middle batten, was a bag of sailcloth closely bound with cord.This he lifted with an effort, for it was over a hundred-weight, andflung upon the sand in a corner.
"That's the kernel you see," he said to Rene, who had watched theoperation with keen interest. "And when we have shelled them all Iwill show you where to put them in safety. Now carry on--the quickerthe better. The sooner we have it all upstairs, the freer I shallbreathe."
Without another word, entering into the spirit of haste which seemedto fill his companion, and nobly controlling his seething curiosity,Rene set to work on his side, with his usual dexterousness.
Half an hour of speechless destructive labour completed the first partof the task. Then the two men carried the weighty bags into the roomwhich had been Captain Jack's in the keep. And when they had travelledto and fro a dozen times with each heavy load, and the whole treasurewas at length accumulated upstairs, Rene, with fresh surprise andadmiration, saw the captain lift the hearthstone and disclose a recessin the heavy masonry--presumably a flue, in the living days ofScarthey peel--which, although much blocked with stony rubbish, hadbeen evidently improved by the last lodger during his period ofsolitary residence into a convenient and very secure hiding-place.
Here was the precious pyramid now heaped up; the stone was returned toits place, and the two stood in front of each other mopping theirfaces.
"Thank goodness, it is done," said Jack Smith. "And thank you too,Renny. To-morrow, break up these casks and add the staves to yourfirewood stack; then nobody but you, in this part of the world, needbe any the wiser about our night's work.--A smart piece of running,eh?--Phew, I am tired! Bring me some food, and some brandy, like agood fellow. Then you can back to your pillow and flatter yourselfthat you have helped Jack Smith out of a famous quandary."
Rene grinned and rushed to execute the order. He had less desire forhis pillow than for the gratification of his hyper-excited curiosity.
But although pressed to quaff one cup of good fellowship and yetanother, he was not destined to get his information, that night, fromthe captain, who had much ado to strangle his yawns sufficiently toswallow a mouthful or two of food.
"No one must know, Renny," was all he said, at last, between twogapes, kicking the hearthstone significantly, and stretching his arms,"not even the wife." Then he flung himself all dressed upon his bed.
"And my faith," said Rene, when he sought his wife a moment later, "hewas fast asleep before I had closed the door."