CHAPTER VI
THE SMUGGLERS' CAVES
The others seemed to have been very well entertained while Miss Lallyand I were busy. Mrs. Prideaux had set Miss Baby on the counter, whereshe was admiring her to her heart's content--Miss Baby smiling andchattering, apparently very well pleased. Miss Bess and Master Franciswere talking eagerly with old Prideaux; they turned to us as we camenear.
Miss Bess and Master Francis were talking eagerly withold Prideaux.]
'Oh, nurse!' said Miss Bess, 'Mr. Prideaux says that he shouldn't wonderif there were treasures hidden away in the smugglers' caves, though itwouldn't be safe for us to look for them. He says they'd be so very farin, where it's quite, quite dark.'
'And one or two of the caves really go a tremendous way underground.Didn't you say there's one they've never got to the end of?' askedMaster Francis.
'So they say,' replied the old man, with his queer Cornish accent. Itdid sound strange to me then, their talk--though I've got so used to itnow that I scarce notice it at all. 'But I wouldn't advise you to beginsearching for treasures, Master Francis. If there's any there, you'dhave to dig to get at them. I remember when I was a boy a deal of talkabout the caves, and some of us wasted our time seeking and digging. Butthe only one that could have told for sure where to look was gone. Hemet his death some distance from here, one terrible stormy winter, andtook his secret with him. I have heard tell as he "walks" in one of thecaves, when the weather's quite beyond the common stormy. But it's notmuch use, for at such times folk are fain to stay at home, so there'snot much chance of any one ever meeting him.'
'Then how has he ever been seen?' asked Miss Bess in her quick way; 'andwho was he, Mr. Prideaux? do tell us.'
But the old man didn't seem inclined to say much more. Perhaps indeedMiss Bess was too sharp for him, and he did not know how to answer herfirst question.
'Such things is best not said much about,' he replied mysteriously; 'andtalking of treasures, by all accounts you'd have a better chance offinding some nearer home.'
He smiled, as if he could have said more had he chosen to do so. Thechildren opened their eyes in bewilderment.
'What do you mean?' exclaimed the two elder ones. Miss Lally's mind wasrunning too much on her stockings for her to pay much attention.Prideaux did not seem at all embarrassed.
'Well, sir, it's no secret hereabouts,' he said, addressing MasterFrancis in particular, 'that the old, old Squire, Sir David, the last ofthat name--there were several David Penroses before him, but never onesince--it's no secret, as I was saying, that a deal of money or propertyof some kind disappeared in his last years, and it stands to reasonthat, being as great a miser as was ever heard tell of, he couldn't havespent it. Why, more than half of the lands changed hands in his time,and what did he do with what he got for them?'
'That was our great, great grand-uncle,' said Master Francis to me; 'youremember I told you about him, but I never thought----' he stoppedshort. 'It _is_ very queer,' he went on again, as if speaking tohimself.
But just then, Miss Baby having had enough of Mrs. Prideaux' pettings,set up a shout.
'Nurse, nurse,' she said, 'Baby wants to go back to Jacob. Poor Jacob sotired waiting. Dood-bye, Mrs. Pideaux,' and she began wriggling to getoff the counter, so that I had to hurry forward to lift her down.
'We'd best be going on,' I said, 'or we'll be losing the finest part ofthe afternoon.'
I didn't feel quite sure that Prideaux' talk was quite what my ladywould approve of for the children. They had a way of taking things upmore seriously than is common with such young creatures, and certainlythey had got in the way--and I couldn't but feel but what my lady was toblame for this--of thinking too much of the family troubles, especiallythe want of wealth, which seemed to them a greater misfortune than itneed have done. Still, being quite a stranger, and them seeming atliberty to talk to the people about as they did, I didn't feel that itwould have been my place to begin making new rules or putting a stop tothings, as likely as not quite harmless. I resolved, however, to findout my lady's wishes in such matters at the first opportunity.
Another half hour brought us close to the shore; the road was a goodone, being used for carting gravel and sea-weed in large quantities tothe village and round about from the little bay--Treluan Bay, that is tosay--it led directly to. But as we were bound for Polwithan Bay, wherethe smugglers' caves were, and had made a round for the sake of comingthrough the village, we had to cross several fields and follow a roughtrack instead of going straight down to the sands. Jacob didn't seem tomind, I must say, nor Miss Baby neither, though she must have beenpretty well jolted, but it was worth the trouble.
'Isn't it lovely, nurse?' said Miss Bess, when at last we foundourselves in the bay on the smooth firm sand, the sea in front of us,and so encircled on three sides by the rocks that even the path by whichwe had come was hidden.
'This bay is so beautifully shut in,' said Master Francis. 'You couldreally fancy that there was no one in the world but us ourselves. Ithink it's such a nice feeling.'
'It's nice when we're all together,' said Miss Lally; 'it would berather frightening if anybody was alone.'
'Alone or not,' said Miss Bess, 'it wouldn't be at all nice whentea-time came if we had nothing to eat. And fancy, what _should_ we doat night--we couldn't sleep out on the sand?'
'We'd have to go into the caves,' said Master Francis. 'It would berather fun, with a good fire and with lots of blankets.'
'And where would you get blankets from, or wood for a fire, you sillyboy?' said Miss Bess.
'Can we see the caves?' I asked, for having heard so much talk aboutthem, I felt curious to see them.
'Of course,' said Master Francis. 'We always explore them every time wecome to this bay. Do you see those two or three dark holes over thereamong the rocks, nurse? Those are the caves; come along and I'll showthem to you.'
I was a little disappointed. I had never seen a cave in my life, but Ihad a confused remembrance of pictures in an old book at home of somecaves--'The Mammoth Caves of Kentucky,' I afterwards found theywere--which looked very large and wonderful, and somehow I suppose I hadall the time been picturing to myself that these ones were something ofthe same kind. I didn't say anything to the children though, as theytook great pride in showing me all the sights. And after all, when wegot to the caves, they turned out much more curious and interesting thanI expected from the outside. The largest one, though its entrance was sosmall, was really as big as a fair-sized church, and narrowing again farback into a dark mysterious-looking passage, from which Master Francistold me two or three smaller chambers opened out.
'And then,' he said, 'after that the passage goes on again--ever so far.In the old days the smugglers blocked it up with pieces of rock, and itisn't so very long ago that this was found out. It was somewhere downalong that passage that they found the things I told you of.'
We went a few yards along the passage, but it soon grew almost quitedark, and we turned back again.
'I can quite see it wouldn't be safe to try exploring down there,' Isaid.
'Yes, I suppose so,' said Master Francis, with a sigh. 'I wish I couldfind some treasure, all the same. I wonder----' he went on, then stoppedshort. 'Nurse,' he began again, 'did you hear what old Prideaux said ofour great grand-uncle the miser? Could it really be true, do you think,that he hid away money or treasures of some kind?' and he lowered hisvoice mysteriously.
'I shouldn't think it was likely,' I replied. For I had a feeling thatit would not be well for the children to get any such ideas into theirheads. It sounded to me like a sort of fairy tale. I had never comeacross anything so romantic and strange in real life. Though for thatmatter, Treluan itself, and the kind of old-world feeling about theplace, was quite unlike anything I had ever known before.
We were outside the cave again by this time; the sunshine seemeddeliciously warm and bright after the chill and gloom inside. Miss Besshad been listening eagerly to what Master Francis was saying.
&n
bsp; 'I can't see but what old Sir David _might_ have hidden treasures away,as he was a real miser,' she said.
'And you know that misers are so suspicious, that even when they'redying they won't trust anybody. I know I've read a story like that,'said the boy. 'Oh! Bess, just fancy if we could find a lot of money ordiamonds! Wouldn't uncle and aunt be pleased?'
His whole face lighted up at the very idea.
'I daresay he hid it all away in a stocking,' put in Miss Lally, whosehead was still full of her knitting. 'I've heard a story of an old womanmiser that did that.'
'And where would the stocking be hid?' said Miss Bess. 'Besides, if astocking was ever so full, it couldn't hold enough money to be a realtreasure.'
'It might be stuffed with bank notes,' said Master Francis. 'There'sbanknotes worth ever so much; aren't there, nurse?'
'I remember once seeing one of a thousand pounds,' I said. 'That was atmy last place. Mr. Wyngate had to do with business in the city, and heonce brought one home to show the young ladies.'
'Well, then, you see, Queen,' said Miss Lally, 'there might be astocking with enough money to make papa and mamma as rich as rich.'
'I'm quite sure Sir David's money wasn't put in a stocking,' said MissBess decidedly. 'You've got rather silly ideas, Lally, consideringyou're getting on for six.'
Miss Lally began to look rather doleful. She had been so bright andcheerful all day that I didn't like to see her little face overcast. Wehad left Jacob outside the cave, of course; there was one satisfactionwith him--he was not likely to run away.
'Miss Baby, dear,' I said, 'aren't you getting hungry? Where's thebasket you were holding in the cart?'
'Nice cakes in basket,' said the little girl. 'Baby looked, but Babydidn't eaten them.'
The basket was still in the cart, and I think they were all very pleasedwhen they saw what I had brought for them. Some of Mrs. Brent's nicelittle saffron buns and a bottle of milk. I remember that I didn't likethe taste of the saffron buns at first, and now I might be Cornish bornand bred, I think it such an improvement to cakes!
'Another time,' I said, 'we might bring our tea with us. I daresay mylady wouldn't object.'
'I'm sure she wouldn't mind,' said Miss Bess. 'We used to have picnicteas sometimes, when our _quite_, quite old nurse was with us--the onethat's married over to St. Iwalds.'
'Bess,' said Master Francis, 'you should say "over at," not "over to."'
'Thank you,' said Miss Bess, 'I don't want you to teach me grammar._That_ isn't parson's business.'
Master Francis grew very red.
'Did you know, nurse,' said Miss Lally, 'Francie's going to be aclergy-gentleman?'
They couldn't help laughing at her, and the laugh brought back goodhumour.
'I want to be one,' said Master Francis, 'but I'm afraid it costs agreat lot to go to college.'
Poor children, through all their talk and plans the one trouble seemedalways to keep coming up.
'I fancy that's according a good deal to how young gentlemen take it.There's some that spend a fortune at college, I've heard, but some thatare very careful; and I expect you'd be that kind, Master Francis.'
'Yes,' he said, in his grave way. 'I wouldn't want to cost Uncle Hulbertmore than I can help. I wish one could be a clergyman without going tocollege though.'
'You've got to go to school first,' said Miss Bess. 'You needn't botherabout college for a long time yet.'
Miss Lally sighed.
'I don't like Francie having to go to school,' she said. 'And the boysare so rough there; I hope they won't hurt your poor leg, Francie.'
'It isn't _that_ I mind,' said Master Francie--the boy had a fine spiritof his own though he was so delicate--'what I mind is the going aloneand being so far away from everybody.'
'It's a pity,' I said without thinking, 'but what one of you youngladies had been a young gentleman, to have been a companion for MasterFrancis, and to have gone to school together, maybe.'
'Oh!' said Miss Bess quickly, 'you must never say that to mamma, nurse.You don't know what a trouble it is to her not to have a boy. She'd haveliked Lally to be a boy most of all. She wanted her to be a boy; shealways says so.'
Here Master Francis gave a deep sigh in his turn.
'Oh! how I wish,' he said, 'that I could turn myself into a girl andLally into a boy. I wouldn't _like_ to be a girl at all, and I daresayLally wouldn't like to be a boy. But to please Aunt Helen I'd do it.'
'No,' said Miss Lally, 'I don't think I would--not even to please mamma.I couldn't bear to be a boy.'
I was rather sorry I had led to this talk.
'Isn't it best,' I said, 'to take things as they are? Master Francis isjust like your brother--the same name and everything.'
'I'd like it that way,' said Master Francis, with a pleased look in hiseyes. But I heard Miss Bess, who was walking close beside me, say in alow voice, 'Mamma will never think of it that way!'
This talk made some things clearer to me than before, and that evening,after the children were in bed, I went down to the housekeeper's roomand eased my mind by telling her about it, I felt so afraid of havingsaid anything uncalled for. But Mrs. Brent comforted me.
'It's best for you to know,' she said, 'that my lady does make a greattrouble, too great a trouble, to my thinking, of not having a son. Andno doubt it has to do with her coldness to Master Francis, though Idoubt if she really knows this herself, for she's a lady that means todo right and justly to all about her; I will say that for her.'
It was really something to be thankful for to have such a good andsensible woman to ask advice from, for a stranger, as I still was. Themore I knew her, the more she reminded me of my good mother. Plain andhomely in her ways, with no love of gossip about her, yet not afraid tospeak out her mind when she saw it right to do so. Many things wouldhave been harder at Treluan, the poor dear children would have had lesspleasure in their lives, but for Mrs. Brent's kind thought for them.That very evening I had had a reason, so to say, for paying a specialvisit to the housekeeper's room; for when we had got in from our longwalk, rather tired and certainly very hungry, a nice surprise waswaiting for us in the nursery. The tea-table was already set out mostcarefully. There was a pile of Mrs. Brent's hot scones and a beautifuldish of strawberries.
'Oh, nurse!' cried Miss Bess, who had run on first, 'quick, quick, lookwhat a nice tea. I'm sure it's Mrs. Brent! Isn't it good of her?'
'It's like a birfday,' said Miss Lally.
And Miss Baby, who had been grumbling a good deal and crying, 'I want mytea,' nearly jumped out of my arms--I had had to carry her upstairs--atthe sight of it.
For I'm afraid there's no denying that in those days breakfast, dinner,and tea filled a large place in Miss Augusta's thoughts. I hope she'llforgive me for saying so, if she ever sees this.