Moonfleet

by John Meade Falkner

  CHAPTER 19

  ON THE BEACH

  Toll for the brave, The grave that are no more;All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore--_Cowper_

  The night was cold, and I had nothing on me save breeches and boots, andthose drenched with the sea, and had been wrestling with the surf so longthat there was little left in me. Yet once I clutched the rope I clung toit for very life, and in a minute found myself in the midst of thebeachmen. I heard them shout again, and felt strong hands seize me, butcould not see their faces for a mist that swam before my eyes, and couldnot speak because my throat and tongue were cracked with the salt water,and the voice would not come. There was a crowd about me of men and somewomen, and I spread out my hands, blindly, to catch hold of them, but myknees failed and let me down upon the beach. And after that I rememberonly having coats flung over me, and being carried off out of the wind,and laid in warmest blankets before a fire. I was numb with the cold, myhair was matted with the salt, and my flesh white and shrivelled, butthey forced liquor into my mouth, and so I lay in drowsy content tillutter weariness bound me in sleep.

  It was a deep and dreamless sleep for hours, and when it left me, gentlyand as it were inch by inch, I found I was still lying wrapped inblankets by the fire. Oh, what a vast and infinite peace was that, to liethere half-asleep, yet wake enough to know that I had slipped my prisonand the pains of death, and was a free man here in my native place! Atlast I shifted myself a little, growing more awake; and opening my eyessaw I was not alone, for two men sat at a table by me with glasses and abottle before them.

  'He is coming-to,' said one, 'and may live yet to tell us who he is, andfrom what port his craft sailed.'

  'There has been many a craft,' the other said, 'has sailed for many aport, and made this beach her last; and many an honest man has landed onit, and never one alive in such a sea. Nor would this one be livingeither, if it had not been for that other brave heart to stand by andsave him. Brave heart, brave heart,' he said over to himself. 'Here, passme the bottle or I shall get the vapours. 'Tis good against these earlychills, and I have not been in this place for ten years past, since poorElzevir was cut adrift.'

  I could not see the speaker's face from where I lay upon the floor, yetseemed to know his voice; and so was fumbling in my weakened mind to puta name to it, when he spoke of Elzevir, and sent my thoughts flyingelsewhere.

  'Elzevir,' I said, 'where is Elzevir?' and sat up to look round,expecting to see him lying near me, and remembering the wreck moreclearly now, and how he had saved me with that last shove forward on thebeach. But he was not to be seen, and so I guessed that his greatstrength had brought him round quicker than had my youth, and that he wasgone back to the beach.

  'Hush,' said one of the men at the table, 'lie down and get to sleepagain'; and then he added, speaking to his comrade: 'His brain iswandering yet: do you see how he has caught up my words about Elzevir?'

  'No,' I struck in, 'my head is clear enough; I am speaking of ElzevirBlock. I pray you tell me where he is. Is he well again?' They got upand stared at one another and at me, when I named Elzevir Block, and thenI knew the one that spoke for Master Ratsey only greyer than he was.

  'Who are you?' he cried, 'who talk of Elzevir Block.'

  'Do you not know me, Master Ratsey?' and I looked full in his face. 'I amJohn Trenchard, who left you so long ago. I pray you tell me where isMaster Block?'

  Master Ratsey looked as if he had seen a ghost, and was struck dumb atfirst: but then ran up and shook me by the hand so warmly that I fellback again on my pillow, while he poured out questions in a flood. Howhad I fared, where had I been, whence had I come? until I stopped him,saying: 'Softly, kind friend, and I will answer; only tell me first,where is Master Elzevir?'

  'Nay, that I cannot say,' he answered, 'for never a soul has set eyes onElzevir since that summer morning we put thee and him ashore at Newport.'

  'Oh, fool me not!' I cried out, chafing at his excuses; 'I am notwandering now. 'Twas Elzevir that saved me in the surf last night. 'Twashe that landed with me.'

  There was a look of sad amaze that came on Ratsey's face when I saidthat; a look that woke in me an awful surmise. 'What!' cried he, 'wasthat Master Elzevir that dragged thee through the surf?'

  'Ay, 'twas he landed with me, 'twas he landed with me,' I said; trying,as it were, to make true by repeating that which I feared was not thetruth. There was a minute's silence, and then Ratsey spoke very softly:'There was none landed with you; there was no soul saved from that shipalive save you.'

  His words fell, one by one, upon my ear as if they were drops of moltenlead. 'It is not true,' I cried; 'he pulled me up the beach himself, andit was he that pushed me forward to the rope.'

  'Ay, he saved thee, and then the under-tow got hold of him and swept himdown under the curl. I could not see his face, but might have known therenever was a man, save Elzevir, could fight the surf on Moonfleet beachlike that. Yet had we known 'twas he, we could have done no more, formany risked their lives last night to save you both. We could have doneno more.' Then I gave a great groan for utter anguish, to think that hehad given up the safety he had won for himself, and laid down his life,there on the beach, for me; to think that he had died on the threshold ofhis home; that I should never get a kind look from him again, nor everhear his kindly voice.

  It is wearisome to others to talk of deep grief, and beside that nowords, even of the wisest man, can ever set it forth, nor even if we wereable could our memory bear to tell it. So I shall not speak more of thatterrible blow, only to say that sorrow, so far from casting my body down,as one might have expected, gave it strength, and I rose up from themattress where I had been lying. They tried to stop me, and even to holdme back, but for all I was so weak, I pushed them aside and must needsfling a blanket round me and away back to the beach.

  The morning was breaking as I left the Why Not?, for 'twas in no otherplace but that I lay, and the wind, though still high, had abated. Therewere light clouds crossing the heaven very swiftly, and between thempatches of clear sky where the stars were growing paler before the dawn.The stars were growing paler; but there was another star, that shone outfrom the Manor woods above the village, although I could not see thehouse, and told me Grace, like the wise virgins, kept her lamp alight allnight. Yet even that light shone without lustre for me then, for my heartwas too full to think of anything but of him who had laid down his lifefor mine, and of the strong kind heart that was stilled for ever.

  'Twas well I knew the way, so sure of old, from Why Not? to beach; for Itook no heed to path or feet, but plunged along in the morning dusk,blind with sorrow and weariness of spirit. There was a fire of driftwoodburning at the back of the beach, and round it crouched a group of menin reefing jackets and sou'westers waiting for morning to save what theymight from the wreck; but I gave them a wide berth and so passed in thedarkness without a word, and came to the top of the beach. There waslight enough to make out what was doing. The sea was running very high,but with the falling wind the waves came in more leisurely and with lessof broken water, curling over in a tawny sweep and regular thunderousbeat all along the bay for miles. There was no sign left of the hull ofthe _Aurungzebe_, but the beach was strewn with so much wreckage as onewould have thought could never come from so small a ship. There werebarrels and kegs, gratings and hatch-covers, booms and pieces of mastsand trucks; and beside all that, the heaving water in-shore was coveredwith a floating mask of broken match-wood, and the waves, as they curledover, carried up and dashed down on the pebble planks and beams beyondnumber. There were a dozen or more of men on the seaward side of thebeach, with oilskins to keep the wet out, prowling up and down thepebbles to see what they could lay their hands on; and now and then theywould run down almost into the white fringe, risking their lives to savea keg as they had risked them to save their fellows last night--as theyhad risked their lives to save ours, as Elzevir had risked his life tosave mine, and lost it there in the white fringe.

  I sat down a
t the top of the beach, with elbows on knees, head betweenhands, and face set out to sea, not knowing well why I was there or whatI sought, but only thinking that Elzevir was floating somewhere in thatfloating skin of wreck-wood, and that I must be at hand to meet him whenhe came ashore. He would surely come in time, for I had seen others comeashore that way. For when the _Bataviaman_ went on the beach, I stood asnear her as our rescuers had stood to us last night, and there were someaboard who took the fatal leap from off her bows and tried to battlethrough the surf. I was so near them I could mark their features and readthe wild hope in their faces at the first, and then the under-tow tookhold of them, and never one that saved his life that day. And yet allcame to beach at last, and I knew them by their dead faces for the men Ihad seen hoping against hope 'twixt ship and shore; some naked and someclothed, some bruised and sorely beaten by the pebbles and the sea, andsome sound and untouched--all came to beach at last.

  So I sat and waited for him to come; and none of the beach-walkers saidanything to me, the Moonfleet men thinking I came from Ringstave, and theLangton men that I belonged to Moonfleet; and both that I had marked somecask at sea for my own and was waiting till it should come in. Only aftera while Master Ratsey joined me, and sitting down by me, begged me to eatbread and meat that he had brought. Now I had little heart to eat, buttook what he gave me to save myself from his importunities, and havingonce tasted was led by nature to eat all, and was much benefited thereby.Yet I could not talk with Ratsey, nor answer any of his questions, thoughanother time I should have put a thousand to him myself; and he seeing'twas no good sat by me in silence, using a spy-glass now and again tomake out the things floating at sea. As the day grew the men left thefire at the back of the beach, and came down to the sea-front where thewaves were continually casting up fresh spoil. And there all worked witha will, not each one for his own hand, but all to make a common hoardwhich should be divided afterwards.

  Among the flotsam moving outside the breakers I could see more than onedark ball, like black buoys, bobbing up and down, and lifting as thewave came by: and knew them for the heads of drowned men. Yet though Itook Ratsey's glass and scanned all carefully enough, I could makenothing of them, but saw the pinnace floating bottom up, and farther outanother boat deserted and down to her gunwale in the water. 'Twas middaybefore the first body was cast up, when the sky was breaking a little,and a thin and watery sun trying to get through, and afterwards threeother bodies followed. They were part of the pinnace's crew, for all hadthe iron ring on the left wrist, as Ratsey told me, who went down to seethem, though he said nothing of the branded 'Y', and they were taken upand put under some sheeting at the back of the beach, there to lie till agrave should be made ready for them.

  Then I felt something that told me he was coming and saw a body rolledover in the surf, and knew it for the one I sought. 'Twas nearest me hewas flung up, and I ran down the beach, caring nothing for the whitefoam, nor for the under-tow, and laid hold of him: for had he not leftthe rescue-line last night, and run down into the surf to save myworthless life? Ratsey was at my side, and so between us we drew him upout of the running foam, and then I wrung the water from his hair, andwiped his face and, kneeling down there, kissed him.

  When they saw that we had got a body, others of the men came up, andstared to see me handle him so tenderly. But when they knew, at last, Iwas a stranger and had the iron ring upon my wrist, and a 'Y' burned uponmy cheek, they stared the more; until the tale went round that I was hewho had come through the surf last night alive, and this poor body was myfriend who had laid down his life for me. Then I saw Ratsey speak withone and another of the group, and knew that he was telling them ournames; and some that I had known came up and shook me by the hand, notsaying anything because they saw my heart was full; and some bent downand looked in Elzevir's face, and touched his hands as if to greet him.Sea and stones had been merciful with him, and he showed neither bruisenor wound, but his face wore a look of great peace, and his eyes andmouth were shut. Even I, who knew where 'twas, could scarcely see the 'Y'mark on his cheek, for the paleness of death had taken out the colour ofthe scar, and left his face as smooth and mellow-white as the alabasterfigures in Moonfleet church. His body was naked from the waist up, as hehad stripped for jumping from the brig, and we could see the great broadchest and swelling muscles that had pulled him out of many a desperatepass, and only failed him, for the first and last time so few hours ago.

  They stood for a little while looking in silence at the old lander whohad run his last cargo on Moonfleet beach, and then they laid his armsdown by his side, and slung him in a sail, and carried him away. I walkedbeside, and as we came down across the sea-meadows, the sun broke out andwe met little groups of schoolchildren making their way down to the beachto see what was doing with the wreck. They stood aside to let us go by,the boys pulling their caps and the girls dropping a curtsy, when theyknew that it was a poor drowned body passing; and as I saw the children Ithought I saw myself among them, and I was no more a man, but just comeout from Mr. Glennie's teaching in the old almshouse hall.

  Thus we came to the Why Not? and there set him down. The inn had notbeen let, as I learned afterwards, since Maskew died; and they had puta fire in it last night for the first time, knowing that the brig wouldbe wrecked, and thinking that some might come off with their lives andrequire tending. The door stood open, and they carried him into theparlour, where the fire was still burning, and laid him down on thetrestle-table, covering his face and body with the sail. This done theyall stood round a little while, awkwardly enough, as not knowing whatto do; and then slipped away one by one, because grief is a thing thatonly women know how to handle, and they wanted to be back on the beachto get what might be from the wreck. Last of all went Master Ratsey,saying, he saw that I would as lief be alone, and that he would comeback before dark.

  So I was left alone with my dead friend, and with a host of bitterestthoughts. The room had not been cleaned; there were spider-webs on thebeams, and the dust stood so thick on the window-panes as to shut outhalf the light. The dust was on everything: on chairs and tables, save onthe trestle-table where he lay. 'Twas on this very trestle they had laidout David's body; 'twas in this very room that this still form, who wouldnever more know either joy or sorrow, had bowed down and wept over hisson. The room was just as we had left it an April evening years ago, andon the dresser lay the great backgammon board, so dusty that one couldnot read the lettering on it; 'Life is like a game of hazard; the skilfulplayer will make something of the worst of throws'; but what unskillfulplayers we had been, how bad our throws, how little we had made of them!

  'Twas with thoughts like this that I was busy while the short afternoonwas spent, and the story went up and down the village, how that ElzevirBlock and John Trenchard, who left so long ago, were come back toMoonfleet, and that the old lander was drowned saving the young man'slife. The dusk was creeping up as I turned back the sail from off hisface and took another look at my lost friend, my only friend; for whowas there now to care a jot for me? I might go and drown myself onMoonfleet beach, for anyone that would grieve over me. What did it profitme to have broken bonds and to be free again? what use was freedom to menow? where was I to go, what was I to do? My friend was gone.

  So I went back and sat with my head in my hands looking into the fire,when I heard someone step into the room, but did not turn, thinking itwas Master Ratsey come back and treading lightly so as not to disturb me.Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and looking up saw standing byme a tall and stately woman, girl no longer, but woman in the fullstrength and beauty of youth. I knew her in a moment, for she had alteredlittle, except her oval face had something more of dignity, and the tawnyhair that used to fly about her back was now gathered up. She was lookingdown at me, and let her hand rest on my shoulder. 'John,' she said, 'haveyou forgotten me? May I not share your sorrow? Did you not think to tellme you were come? Did you not see the light, did you not know there was afriend that waited for you?'


  I said nothing, not being able to speak, but marvelling how she had comejust in the point of time to prove me wrong to think I had no friend; andshe went on:

  'Is it well for you to be here? Grieve not too sadly, for none could havedied nobler than he died; and in these years that you have been away, Ihave thought much of him and found him good at heart, and if he did aughtwrong 'twas because others wronged him more.'

  And while she spoke I thought how Elzevir had gone to shoot her father,and only failed of it by a hair's-breadth, and yet she spoke so well Ithought he never really meant to shoot at all, but only to scare themagistrate. And what a whirligig of time was here, that I should havesaved Elzevir from having that blot on his conscience, and then that heshould save my life, and now that Maskew's daughter should be the one topraise Elzevir when he lay dead! And still I could not speak.

  And again she said: 'John, have you no word for me? have you forgotten?do you not love me still? Have I no part in your sorrow?'

  Then I took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips, and said, 'DearMistress Grace, I have forgotten nothing, and honour you above allothers: but of love I may not speak more to you--nor you to me, for weare no more boy and girl as in times past, but you a noble lady and I abroken wretch'; and with that I told how I had been ten years aprisoner, and why, and showed her the iron ring upon my wrist, and thebrand upon my cheek.

  At the brand she stared, and said, 'Speak not of wealth; 'tis not wealthmakes men, and if you have come back no richer than you went, you arecome back no poorer, nor poorer, John, in honour. And I am rich and havemore wealth than I can rightly use, so speak not of these things; but beglad that you are poor, and were not let to profit by that evil treasure.But for this brand, it is no prison name to me, but the Mohunes' badge,to show that you are theirs and must do their bidding. Said I not to you,Have a care how you touch the treasure, it was evilly come by and willbring a curse with it? But now, I pray you, with a greater earnestness,seeing you bear this mark upon you, touch no penny of that treasure if itshould some day come back to you, but put it to such uses as ColonelMohune thought would help his sinful soul.'

  With that she took her hand from mine and bade me 'good night', leavingme in the darkening room with the glow from the fire lighting up the sailand the outline of the body that lay under it. After she was gone Ipondered long over what she had said, and what that should mean when shespoke of the treasure one day coming back to me: but wondered much themost to find how constant is the love of woman, and how she could stillfind a place in her heart for so poor a thing as I. But as to what shesaid, I was to learn her meaning this very night.

  Master Ratsey had come in and gone again, not stopping with me very long,because there was much doing on the beach; but bidding me be of goodcheer, and have no fear of the law; for that the ban against me and thehead-price had been dead for many a year. 'Twas Grace had made herlawyers move for this, refusing herself to sign the hue and cry, andsaying that the fatal shot was fired by misadventure. And so a dreadwhich was just waking was laid to rest for ever; and when Ratsey went Imade up the fire, and lay down in the blankets in front of it, for I wasdog-tired and longed for sleep. I was already dozing, but not asleep,when there was a knock at the door, and in walked Mr. Glennie. He wasaged, and stooped a little, as I could see by the firelight, but for allthat I knew him at once, and sitting up offered him what welcome I could.

  He looked at me curiously at first, as taking note of the bearded manthat had grown out of the boy he remembered, but gave me very kindlygreeting, and sat down beside me on a bench. First, he lifted the sailfrom the dead body, and looked at the sleeping face. Then he took out aCommon Prayer reading the Commendamus over the dead, and giving mespiritual comfort, and lastly, he fell to talking about the past. Fromhim I learnt something of what had happened while I was away, though forthat matter nothing had happened at all, except a few deaths, for thatis the only sort of change for which we look in Moonfleet. And amongthose who had passed away was Miss Arnold, my aunt, so that I wasanother friend the less, if indeed I should count her a friend: forthough she meant me well, she showed her care with too much strictnessto let me love her, and so in my great sorrow for Elzevir I found noroom to grieve for her.

  Whether from the spiritual solace Mr. Glennie offered me, or whether fromhis pointing out how much cause for thankfulness I had in being loosedout of prison and saved from imminent death, certain it was I felt someassuagement of grief, and took pleasure in his talk.

  'And though I may by some be reprehended,' he said, 'for presuming torefer to profane authors after citing Holy Scripture, yet I cannotrefrain from saying that even the great poet Homer counsels moderation inmourning, "for quickly," says he, "cometh satiety of chilly grief".'

  After this I thought he was going, but he cleared his throat in such away that I guessed he had something important to say, and he drew a longfolded blue paper from his pocket. 'My son,' he said, opening itleisurely and smoothing it out upon his knee, 'we should never revileFortune, and in speaking of Fortune I only use that appellation in ourpoor human sense, and do not imply that there is any Chance at all butwhat is subject to an over-ruling Providence; we should never, I say,revile Fortune, for just at that moment when she appears to have desertedus, she may be only gone away to seek some richest treasure to bring backwith her. And that this is so let what I am about to read to you prove;so light a candle and set it by me, for my eyes cannot follow the writingin this dancing firelight.'

  I took an end of candle which stood on the mantelpiece and did as he bidme, and he went on: 'I shall read you this letter which I received neareight years ago, and of the weightiness of it you shall yourself judge.'

  I shall not here set down that letter in full, although I have it by me,but will put it shortly, because it was from a lawyer, tricked withlong-winded phrases and spun out as such letters are to afford coverafterwards for a heavier charge. It was addressed to the Reverend HoraceGlennie, Perpetual Curate of Moonfleet, in the County of Dorset, England,and written in English by Heer Roosten, Attorney and Signariat of theHague in the Kingdom of Holland. It set forth that one KrispijnAldobrand, jeweller and dealer in precious stones, at the Hague, had sentfor Heer Roosten to draw a will for him. And that the said KrispijnAldobrand, being near his end, had deposed to the said Heer Roosten, thathe, Aldobrand, was desirous to leave all his goods to one John Trenchard,of Moonfleet, Dorset, in the Kingdom of England. And that he was movedto do this, first, by the consideration that he, Aldobrand, had nochildren to whom to leave aught, and second, because he desired to makefull and fitting restitution to John Trenchard, for that he had onceobtained from the said John a diamond without paying the proper price forit. Which stone he, Aldobrand, had sold and converted into money, andhaving so done, found afterwards both his fortune and his health decline;so that, although he had great riches before he became possessed of thediamond, these had forthwith melted through unfortunate ventures andspeculations, till he had little remaining to him but the money that thissame diamond had brought.

  He therefore left to John Trenchard everything of which he should diepossessed, and being near death begged his forgiveness if he had wrongedhim in aught. These were the instructions which Heer Roosten receivedfrom Mr. Aldobrand, whose health sensibly declined, until three monthslater he died. It was well, Heer Roosten added, that the will had beendrawn in good time, for as Mr. Aldobrand grew weaker, he became a prey todelusions, saying that John Trenchard had laid a curse upon the diamond,and professing even to relate the words of it, namely, that it should'bring evil in this life, and damnation in that which is to come.' Norwas this all, for he could get no sleep, but woke up with a horrid dream,in which, so he informed Heer Roosten, he saw continually a tall man witha coppery face and black beard draw the bed-curtains and mock him. Thushe came at length to his end, and after his death Heer Roostenendeavoured to give effect to the provision of the will, by writing toJohn Trenchard, at Moonfleet, Dorset, to apprise him that he was leftsole heir. That add
ress, indeed, was all the indication that Aldobrandhad given, though he constantly promised his attorney to let him havecloser information as to Trenchard's whereabouts, in good time. Thisinformation was, however, always postponed, perhaps because Aldobrandhoped he might get better and so repent of his repentance. So all HeerRoosten had to do was to write to Trenchard at Moonfleet, and in duecourse the letter was returned to him, with the information thatTrenchard had fled that place to escape the law, and was then nowhere tobe found. After that Heer Roosten was advised to write to the minister ofthe parish, and so addressed these lines to Mr. Glennie.

  This was the gist of the letter which Mr. Glennie read, and you mayeasily guess how such news moved me, and how we sat far into the nighttalking and considering what steps it was best to take, for we fearedlest so long an interval as eight years having elapsed, the lawyers mighthave made some other disposition of the money. It was midnight when Mr.Glennie left. The candle had long burnt out, but the fire was bright,and he knelt a moment by the trestle-table before he went out.

  'He made a good end, John,' he said, rising from his knees, 'and I praythat our end may be in as good cause when it comes. For with the best ofus the hour of death is an awful hour, and we may well pray, as everySunday, to be delivered in it. But there is another time which those whowrote this Litany thought no less perilous, and bade us pray to bedelivered in all time of our wealth. So I pray that if, after all, thiswealth comes to your hand you may be led to use it well; for though I donot hold with foolish tales, or think a curse hangs on riches themselves,yet if riches have been set apart for a good purpose, even by evil men,as Colonel John Mohune set apart this treasure, it cannot be but that weshall do grievous wrong in putting them to other use. So fare you well,and remember that there are other treasures besides this, and that a goodwoman's love is worth far more than all the gold and jewels of theworld--as I once knew.' And with that he left me.

  I guessed that he had spoken with Grace that day, and as I lay dozing infront of the fire, alone in this old room I knew so well, alone with thatsilent friend who had died to save me, I mourned him none the less, butyet sorrowed not as one without hope.

  * * * * *

  What need to tell this tale at any more length, since you may know, by mytelling it, that all went well? for what man would sit down to write ahistory that ended in his own discomfiture? All that great wealth came tomy hands, and if I do not say how great it was, 'tis that I may not wakeenvy, for it was far more than ever I could have thought. And of thatmoney I never touched penny piece, having learnt a bitter lesson in thepast, but laid it out in good works, with Mr. Glennie and Grace to helpme. First, we rebuilt and enlarged the almshouses beyond all that ColonelJohn Mohune could ever think of, and so established them as to be a havenfor ever for all worn-out sailors of that coast. Next, we sought theguidance of the Brethren of the Trinity, and built a lighthouse on theSnout, to be a Channel beacon for sea-going ships, as Maskew's match hadbeen a light for our fishing-boats in the past. Lastly, we beautified thechurch, turning out the cumbrous seats of oak, and neatly pewing it withdeal and baize, that made it most commodious to sit in of the Sabbath.There was also much old glass which we removed, and reglazed all thewindows tight against the wind, so that what with a high pulpit,reading-desk, and seat for Master Clerk and new Commandment boards eachside of the Holy Table, there was not a church could vie with ours in thecountryside. But that great vault below it, with its memories, was set inorder, and then safely walled up, and after that nothing was more everheard of Blackbeard and his lost Mohunes. And as for the landers, Icannot say where they went; and if a cargo is still run of a dark nightupon the beach, I know nothing of it, being both Lord of the Manor andJustice of the Peace.

  The village, too, renewed itself with the new almshouses and church.There were old houses rebuilt and fresh ones reared, and all are ours,except the Why Not? which still remains the Duchy Inn. And that was letagain, and men left the Choughs at Ringstave and came back to their oldhaunt, and any shipwrecked or travel-worn sailor found board and welcomewithin its doors.

  And of the Mohune Hospital--for that was what the alms-houses were nowcalled--Master Glennie was first warden, with fair rooms and a fulllibrary, and Master Ratsey head of the Bedesmen. There they spent happierdays, till they were gathered in the fullness of their years; and sleepon the sunny side of the church, within sound of the sea, by that greatbuttress where I once found Master Ratsey listening with his ear toground. And close beside them lies Elzevir Block, most faithful and mostloved by me, with a text on his tombstone: 'Greater love hath no man thanthis, that a man lay down his life for his friend,' and some of Mr.Glennie's verses.

  And of ourselves let me speak last. The Manor House is a stately homeagain, with trim lawns and terraced balustrades, where we can sit andsee the thin blue smoke hang above the village on summer evenings. Andin the Manor woods my wife and I have seen a little Grace and a littleJohn and little Elzevir, our firstborn, play; and now our daughter isgrown up, fair to us as the polished corners of the Temple, and our sonsare gone out to serve King George on sea and land. But as for us, forGrace and me, we never leave this our happy Moonfleet, being wellcontent to see the dawn tipping the long cliff-line with gold, and thenight walking in dew across the meadows; to watch the spring clothe thebeech boughs with green, or the figs ripen on the southern wall: whilebehind all, is spread as a curtain the eternal sea, ever the same andever changing. Yet I love to see it best when it is lashed to madness inthe autumn gale, and to hear the grinding roar and churn of the pebbleslike a great organ playing all the night. 'Tis then I turn in bed andthank God, more from the heart, perhaps, than, any other living man,that I am not fighting for my life on Moonfleet Beach. And more thanonce I have stood rope in hand in that same awful place, and tried tosave a struggling wretch; but never saw one come through the surf alive,in such a night as he saved me.