The Light of Scarthey: A Romance

by Egerton Castle

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE GOLD SMUGGLER AND THE PHILOSOPHER

  On the evening of the day which had seen Miss Molly's departure forthe main land, Rene, after the usual brisk post-prandial altercationwith old Margery by her kitchen fire, was cheerfully finding his way,lantern in hand, to his turret, when in the silence of the night heheard the door of the keep open and close, and presently recognisedSir Adrian's tread echoing on the flagged steps beneath him.

  Astonished at this premature return and full of vague dismay, hehurried down to receive his master.

  There was a cloud on Sir Adrian's face, plainly discernible in spiteof the unaltered composure of his manner.

  "I did not expect your honour back so soon," said Rene, tentatively.

  "I myself did not anticipate to return. I had thought I might perhapsstay some days at Pulwick. But I find there is no home like this onefor me, Rene."

  There was a long silence. But when Rene had rekindled a blaze upon thehearth and set the lamp upon the table, he stood a moment beforewithdrawing, almost begging by his look some further crumb ofinformation.

  "My room is ready, I suppose?" inquired Sir Adrian.

  "Yes, your honour," quoth the man ruefully, "Margery and I put it backexactly as--as before."

  "Good-night then, good-night!" said the master after a pause, warminghis hands as the flames began to leap through the network of twigs. "Ishall go to bed, I am tired; I had to row myself across. You will takethe boat back to-morrow morning."

  Rene opened his mouth to speak; caught the sound of a sigh coming fromthe hearthside, and, shaking his head, in silence obeyed the implieddismissal. And bitterly did he meditate in his bunk, that night, uponthe swift crumbling of those air-castles he had built himself sogaily erstwhile, in the rose and blue atmosphere that _La Demoiselle_had seemed to bring with her to Scarthey.

  * * * * *

  From the morrow the old regular mode of life began again in the keep.

  Sir Adrian read a good deal, or at least appeared so to do; but Rene,who kept him more than ever under his glances of wistful sympathy,noted that far from being absorbed, as of old, in the pages of hisbook, the recluse's eyes wandered much off its edges into space; thatwhen writing, or at least intent on writing, his pen would linger longin the bottle and hover listlessly over the paper; that he was moreabstracted, even than his wont, when looking out of the easternwindow; and that on the platform of the beacon it was the landwardview which most drew his gaze.

  There was also more music in the keep than was the custom in evenerdays. Seated at his organ the light-keeper seemed to find a voice forsuch thoughts as were not to be spoken or written, and relief for thenameless pity of them. But never a word passed between the two men onthe subject that filled both their hearts.

  It was Sir Adrian's pleasure that things at Scarthey should seem to beexactly the same as before, and that was enough for Rene.

  "And yet," mused the faithful fellow, within his disturbed mind, "theruins now look like a house the day after an interment. If we werelonely before, my faith, now we are desolate?" and, trying to findsomething or somebody to charge with the curse of it, he invariablyfell to upon Mr. Landale's sleek head, why, he could hardly haveexplained.

  Three new days had thus passed in the regularity, if not the serenityof the old--they seemed old already, buried far back in the past,those days that had lapsed so evenly before the brightness of youthfuland beautiful life had entered the keep for one brief moment, anddeparting, again left it a ruin indeed--when the retirement ofScarthey was once more invaded by an unexpected visitor. It was aboutsundown of the shortest day. Sir Adrian was at his organ, almostunconsciously interpreting his own sadness into music. In time theyearning of his soul had had expression, the echo of the last sighingchord died away in the tranquil air, yet the musician, with head bentupon his breast, remained lost in far-away thoughts.

  A slight shuffling noise disturbed him; turning round to greet Rene ashe supposed, he was astonished to see a man's figure lolling in hisown arm-chair.

  As he peered inquiringly into the twilight, the intruder rose to hisfeet, and cried with a voice loud and clear, pleasant withal to theear:

  "Sir Adrian, I am sorry you have stopped so soon; I never heardanything more beautiful! The door was ajar, and I crept in like a cat,not to disturb you."

  Still in doubt, but with his fine air of courtesy, the light-keeperadvanced towards the uninvited guest.

  "Am I mistaken," he said, with some hesitation, "surely this is HubertCochrane's voice?"

  "Jack Smith's voice, my dear fellow; Jack Smith, at your service,please to remember," answered the visitor, with a genial ring oflaughter in his words. "Not that it matters much here, I suppose! HadI not heard the peal of your organ I should have thought Scartheydeserted indeed. I could find no groom of the chambers to announce mein due form."

  As he spoke, the two had drawn near each other and clasped handsheartily.

  "Now, to think of your knowing my voice in this manner! You have adevilish knack of spotting your man, Sir Adrian. It is almost fouryears since I was here last, is it not?"

  "Four years?--so it is; and four years that have done well by you, itwould appear. What a picture of strength and lustiness! It reallyseems to regenerate one, and put heart of grace in one, only to takeyou by the hand.--Welcome, Captain Smith!"

  Nothing could have more succinctly described the outer man of him whochose to be known by that most nondescript of patronymics. Sir Adrianstood for a moment, contemplating, with glances of approval such as heseldom bestowed on his fellow-man, the symmetrical, slender, yetvigorous figure of his friend, and responding with an unwontedcheerfulness to the smile that lit up the steel-blue eyes, and partedthe shapely, strong, and good-humoured mouth of the privateersman.

  "Dear me, and what a buck we have become!" continued the baronet,"what splendid plumage! It is good to see you so prosperous. And sothis is the latest fashion? No doubt it sets forth the frame of agoodly man, though no one could guess at the 'sea dog' beneath such aset of garments. I used to consider my brother Rupert the mostespecial dandy I had ever seen; but that, evidently, was my limitedexperience: even Rupert cannot display so perfect a fit inbottle-green coats, so faultless a silken stock, buckskins of suchmatchless drab!"

  Captain Jack laughed, blushed slightly under the friendly banter, andallowed himself to be thrust back into the seat he had just vacated.

  "Welcome again, on my lonely estate. I hope this is not to be a mereflying visit? You know my misanthropy vanishes when I have yourcompany. How did you come? Not by the causeway, I should say," smilingagain, and glancing at the unblemished top-boots.

  "I have two men waiting for me in the gig below; my schooner, the_Peregrine_, lies in the offing."

  The elder man turned to the window, and through the grey curtain ofcrepuscule recognised the rakish topsail schooner that had excitedMolly's admiration some days before. He gazed forth upon it a fewmeditative moments.

  "Not knowing whether I would find you ready to receive me," pursuedthe captain, "I arranged that the _Peregrine_ was to wait for me if Ihad to return to-night."

  "Which, of course, is not to be heard of," said Sir Adrian. "Here isRenny; he will carry word that with me you remain to-night.... Come,Renny, do you recognise an old acquaintance?"

  Already well disposed towards any one who could call this note ofpleasure into the loved voice, the Breton, who had just entered,turned to give a broad stare at the handsome stranger, then burst intoa guffaw of pure delight. "By my faith, it is Mr. the Lieutenant!" heejaculated; adding, as ingeniously as Tanty herself might have done,that he would never have known him again.

  "It is Mr. the Captain now, Renny," said that person, and held out astrong hand to grip that of the little Frenchman, which the latter,after the preliminary rubbing upon his trousers that his code ofmanners enjoined, readily extended.

  "Ah, it is a good wind that sent you here this day," said he, wit
h asigh of satisfaction when this ceremony had been duly gone through.

  "You say well," acquiesced his master, "it has ever been a good windthat has brought Captain Jack across my path."

  And then receiving directions to refresh the gig's crew and dismissthem back to their ship with instructions to return for orders on themorrow, the servant hurried forth, leaving the two friends once morealone.

  "Thanks," said Captain Jack, when the door had closed upon themessenger. "That will exactly suit my purpose. I have a good manythings to talk over with you, since you so kindly give me theopportunity. In the first place, let me unburden myself of a debtwhich is now of old standing--and let me say at the same time," addedthe young man, rising to deposit upon the table a letter-case which hehad taken from his breast-pocket, "that though my actual debt is nowmet, my obligation to you remains the same and will always be so. Yousaid just now that I looked prosperous, and so I am--owing somewhat togood luck, it is true, but owing above all to you. No luck would haveavailed me much without _that_ to start upon." And he pointed to thecontents of the case, a thick bundle of notes which his host was nowsmilingly turning over with the tip of his fingers.

  "I might have sent you a draft, but there is no letter-post that Iknow of to Scarthey, and, besides, it struck me that just as thesefour thousand pounds had privately passed between you and me, youmight prefer them to be returned in the same manner."

  "I prefer it, since it has brought you in person," said Sir Adrian,thrusting the parcel into a drawer and pulling his chair closertowards his guest. "Dealings with a man like you give one a taste ofan ideal world. Would that more human transactions could be carriedout in so simple and frank a manner as this little business of ours!"

  Captain Jack laughed outright.

  "Upon my word, you are a greater marvel to me every time I seeyou--which is not by any means often enough!"

  The other raised his eyebrows in interrogation, and the sailor wenton:

  "Is it really possible that it is to _my_ mode of dealing that youattribute the delightful simplicity of a transaction involving alittle fortune from hand to hand? And where pray, in this terraqueoussublunary sphere--I heard that good phrase from a literary exquisiteat Bath, and it seems to me comprehensive--where, then, on thisterraqueous sublunary globe of ours, Sir Adrian Landale, could oneexpect to find another person ready to lend a privateersman, tradingunder an irresponsible name, the sum of four thousand pounds, withoutany other security than his volunteered promise to return it--ifpossible?"

  Sir Adrian, ignoring the tribute to his own merits, arose and placedhis friendly hand on the speaker's shoulder: "And now, my dear Jack,"he said gravely, "that the war is over, you will have to turn yourenergies in another direction. I am glad you are out of that unworthytrade."

  Captain Jack bounded up: "No, no, Sir Adrian, I value your opinion toomuch to allow such a statement to pass unchallenged. Unworthy trade!We have not given back those French devils one half of the harm theyhave done to our own merchant service; it was war, you know, and youknow also, or perhaps you don't--in which case let me tell you--thatmy _Cormorant_ has made her goodly name, ay, and brought her commandera fair share of his credit, by her energy in bringing to an incrediblenumber of those d----d French sharks--beg pardon, but you know thepestilent breed. Well, we shall never agree upon the subject I fear.As for me, the smart of the salt air, the sting of the salt breeze,the fighting, the danger, they have got into my blood; and even now itsometimes comes over me that life will not be perfect life to mewithout the dancing boards under my feet and the free waves around me,and my jolly boys to lead to death or glory. Yet, could you but knowit, this is the veriest treason, and I revoke the words a thousandtimes. You look amazed, and well you may: ah, I have much to tell you!But I take it you will not care to hear all I have been able toachieve on the basis of your munificent help at my--ahem, unworthytrade."

  "Well, no," said Sir Adrian smiling, "I can quite imagine it, andimagine it without enthusiasm, though, perhaps, as you say, suchthings have to be. But I should like to know of these presentcircumstances, these prospects which make you look so happy. No doubtthe fruits of peace?"

  "Yes, I suppose in one way they may be called so. Yet without the warand your helping hand they would even now hang as far from me as thegrapes from the fox.--When I arrived in England three months after thepeace had been signed, I had accumulated in the books of certain banksa tolerably respectable account, to the credit of a certain person,whose name, oddly enough, you on one or two occasions have applied,absently, to Captain Jack Smith. I was, I will own, already feelinginclined to discuss with myself the propriety of assuming the name inquestion, when, there came something in my way of which I shall tellyou presently; which something has made me resolve to remain CaptainSmith for some time longer. The old _Cormorant_ lay at Bristol, andbeing too big for this new purpose, I sold her. It was like cuttingoff a limb. I loved every plank of her; knew every frisk of her! Sheserved me well to the end, for she fetched her value--almost. Next,having time on my hands, I bethought myself of seeing again a littleof the world; and when I tell you that I drove over to Bath, you mayperhaps begin to see what I am coming to."

  Sir Adrian suddenly turned in his chair to face his friend again, witha look of singular attention.

  "Well, no, not exactly, and yet--unless--? Pshaw! impossible----!"upon which lucid commentary he stopped, gazing with anxious inquiryinto Captain Jack's smiling eyes. "Ah, I believe you have just aglimmer of the truth with that confounded perspicacity of yours,"saying which the sailor laughed and blushed not unbecomingly. "This ishow it came about: I had transactions with old John Harewood, thebanker, in Bristol, transactions advantageous to both sides, butperhaps most to him--sly old dog. At any rate, the old fellow took amonstrous fancy to me, over his claret, and when I mentioned Bath,recommended me to call upon his wife (a very fine dame, who prefersthe fashion of the Spa to the business of Bristol, and consequentlylives as much in the former place as good John Harewood will allow).Well, you wonder at my looking prosperous and happy. Listen, for hereis the _hic_: At Lady Maria Harewood's I met one who, if I mistakenot, is of your kin. Already, then, somewhere at the back of my memorydwelt the name of Savenaye----Halloa, bless me! I have surely saidnothing to----!"

  The young man broke off, disconcerted. Sir Adrian's face had becomeunwontedly clouded, but he waved the speaker on impatiently: "No, no,I am surprised, of course, only surprised; never mind me, my thoughtswandered--please go on. So you have met her?"

  "Ay, that I have! Now it is no use beating about the bush. You whoknow her--you do know her of course--will jump at once to the onlypossible conclusion. Ah, Adrian!" Captain Jack pursued, pacingenthusiastically about, "I have been no saint, and no doubt I havefancied myself as a lover once or twice ere this; but to see thatgirl, sir, means a change in a man's life: to have met the light ofthose sweet eyes is to love, to love in reality. It is to feel ashamedof the idiotic make-believes of former loves. To love her, even invague hope, is to be glorious already; and, by George, to have hertroth, is to be--I cannot say what ... to be what I am now!"

  The lover's face was illumined; he walked the room like one treadingon air as the joy within him found its voice in words.

  Sir Adrian listened with an extraordinary tightness at his heart. Hehad loved one woman even so; that love was still with him, as thescent clings to the phial; but the sight of this young, joyful lovemade him feel old in that hour--old as he had never realised before.There was no room in his being for such love again. And yet...? Therewas a tremulous anxiety in the question he put, after a short pause."There are _two_ Demoiselles de Savenaye, Jack; which is it?"

  Captain Jack halted, turned on his heels, and exclaimedenthusiastically: "To me there is but one--one woman in theworld--Madeleine!" His look met that of Sir Adrian in full, and evenin the midst of his own self-centred mood he could not fail to noticethe transient gleam that shot in the elder's eyes, and the suddenrelaxation of his features. He pondered for a
moment or two, scanningthe while the countenance of the recluse; then a smile lighted up hisown bronzed face in a very sweet and winning way. "As her kinsman,have I your approval?" he asked and proceeded earnestly: "To tell thetruth at once, I was looking to even more than your approval--to yoursupport."

  Sir Adrian's mood had undergone a change: as a breeze sweeping from anew quarter clears in a moment a darkening mist from the face of theearth, Captain Jack's answer had blown away for the nonce theatmosphere of misgiving that enveloped him. He answered promptly, andwith warmth: "Being your friend, I am glad to know of this; being herkinsman, I may add, my dear _Hubert_"--there was just a tinge ofhesitation, followed by a certain emphasis, on the change of name--"Ipromise to support you in your hopes, in so far as I have anyinfluence; for power or right over my cousin I have none."

  The sailor threw himself down once more in his arm-chair; and, tappinghis shining hessians with the stem of his long clay in smilingabstraction, began, with all a lover's egotism, to expatiate on thetheme that filled his heart.

  "It is a singular, an admirable, a never sufficiently-to-be-praisedconjunction of affairs which has ultimately brought me near you when Iwas pursuing the Light o' my Heart, ruthlessly snatched away by acunning and implacable dragon, known to you as Miss O'Donoghue. I say_dragon_ in courtesy; I called her by better names before I realisedwhat a service she was unconsciously rendering us by this suddenremoval."

  "Known to me!" laughed Sir Adrian. "My own mother's sister!"

  "Then I still further retract. Moreover, seeing how things have turnedout, I must now regard her as an angel in disguise. Don't look sosurprised! Has she not brought my love under your protection? Ithought I was tolerably proof against the little god, but then he hadnever shot his arrows at me from between the long lashes of Madeleinede Savenaye. Oh, those eyes, Adrian! So unlike those southern eyes Ihave known so well, too well in other days, brilliant, hard,challenging battle from the first glance, and yet from the firstpromising that surrender which is ever so speedy. Pah! no more of suchmemories. Before _her_ blue eyes, on my first introduction, Ifelt--well, I felt as the novice does under the first broadside."

  The speaker looked dreamily into space, as if the delicious momentrose again panoramically before him.

  "Well," he pursued, "that did me no harm, after all. Lady MariaHarewood, who, I have learned since, deals strongly in sentiment, and,being unfortunately debarred by circumstances from indulgence in thesoothing luxury on her own behalf, loves to promote matches morepoetical--she calls it more 'harmonious'--than her own very prosaicone, she, dear lady, was delighted with such a rarity as a bashfulprivateersman--her 'tame corsair,' as I heard her call your humbleservant.--I was a hero, sir, a perfect hero of romance in the courseof a few days! On the strength of this renown thrust upon me I foundgrace before the most adorable blue eyes; had words of sympathy fromthe sweetest lips, and smiles from the most bewitching little mouth inall the world. So you see I owe poor Lady Maria a good thought.... Youlaugh?"

  Sir Adrian was smiling, but all in benevolence, at the artlessness ofthis eager youth, who in all the unconscious glory of his looks andstrength, ascribed the credit of his entrance into a maiden's heart tothe virtue of a few irresponsible words of recommendation.

  "Ah! those were days! Everything went on smoothly, and I was debatingwith myself whether I would not, at once, boldly ask her to be thewife of Hubert Cochrane; though the casting of Jack Smith's skin wouldhave necessitated the giving up of several of his free-tradingengagements."

  "Free trading! You do not mean to say, man alive, that you have turnedsmuggler now!" interrupted Sir Adrian aghast.

  "Smuggler," cried Jack with his frank laugh, "peace, I beg, friend!Miscall not a gentleman thus. Smuggler--pirate? I cut a pretty figureevidently in your worship's eyes. Lucky for me you never would besworn as a magistrate, or where should I be ... and you too, betweenduty and friendship?--But to proceed: I was about, as I have said, togive that up for the reasons I mentioned, when, upon a certain fineevening, I crossed the path of one of the most masterful old maids Ihave ever seen, or even heard of; and, would you believe it?"--thiswith a quizzical look at his host's grave face--"this misguided oldlady took such a violent dislike to me at first sight, and expressedit so thoroughly well, that, hang me if I was not completely broughtto. And all for escorting my dear one from Lady Maria's house to herown! Well, the walk was worth it--though the old crocodile was on thewatch for us, ready to snap; had got wind of the secret, somehow, asecret unspoken even between us two. This first and last interviewtook place on the flags, in front of No. 17 Camden Place, Bath. Oh! Itwas a very one-sided affair from the beginning, and ended abruptly ina door being banged in my face. Then I heard about Miss O'Donoghue'speculiarities in the direction of exclusiveness. And then, also, oddlyenough, for the first time, of the great fortune going with myMadeleine's hand. Of course I saw it all, and, I may say, forgave theold lady. In short, I realised that, in Miss O'Donoghue's mind, I amnothing but an unprincipled fortune-seeker and adventurer. Now you,Adrian, can vouch that, whatever my faults, I am none such."

  Sir Adrian threw a quiet glance at his friend, whose eyes sparkled asthey met it.

  "God knows," continued the latter, "that all I care for, concerningthe money, is that _she_ may have it. This last venture, the biggestand most difficult of all, I then decided to undertake, that I mightbe the fitter mate for the heiress--bless her! Oh, Adrian, man, couldyou have seen her sweet tearful face that night, you would understandthat I could not rest upon such a parting. In the dawn of the nextmorning I was in the street--not so much upon the chance of meeting,though I knew that such sweetness would have now to be all stolen--butto watch her door, her window; a lover's trick, rewarded by lover'sluck! Leaning on the railings, through the cold mist (cold it was,though I never felt it, but I mind me now how the icicles broke undermy hand), what should I see, before even the church-bells had set tochiming, or the yawning sluts to pull the kitchen curtains, but abloated monster of a coach, dragging and sliding up the street tohalt at her very door. Then out came the beldam herself, and twomuffled-up slender things--my Madeleine one of course; but I had aregular turn at sight of them, for I swear I could not tell which waswhich! Off rattled the chariot at a smart pace; and there I stood,friend, feeling as if my heart was tied behind with the trunks."

  The sailor laughed, ran his fingers through his curls and stamped inlively recollection.

  "Nothing to be drawn from their landlady. But I am not the man toallow a prize to be snatched from under my very nose. So,anathematising Miss O'Donoghue's family-tree, root, stem, andbranch--except that most lovely off-shoot I mean to transplant (youwill forgive this heat of blood; it was clearing for action so tospeak)--I ran out and overtook the ostler whom I had seen putting thefinishing touch to the lashing of boxes behind! _'Gloucester!'_ sayshe. The word was worth the guinea it cost me, a hundred timesover.--In less than an hour I was in the saddle, ready for pursuit,cantering boot to boot with my man--a trusty fellow who knows how tohold his tongue, and can sit a horse in the bargain. Neither atGloucester, nor the next day, up to Worcester, could we succeed indoing more than keep our fugitives in view. When they had alighted atone inn, as ascertained by my squire, we patronised the oppositionhostelry, and the ensuing morning cantered steadily in pursuit, on_our_ new post-horses half an hour after they had rumbled away with_their_ relays. But the evening of our arrival at Worcester, my fellowfound out, at last, what the next stage was to be, and--clever chap,he lost nothing for his sharpness--that the Three Kings' Heads hadbeen recommended to the old lady as the best house in Shrewsbury. Thistime we took the lead, and on to Shrewsbury, and were at the gloriousold Kings' Heads (I in a private room, tight as wax) a good couple ofhours before the chariot made its appearance. And there, man, there!my pretty one and I met again!"

  "That was, no doubt," put in Sir Adrian, in his gentle, indulgent way,"what made the Kings' Heads so glorious?"

  "Ay. Right! And yet it was but a few secon
ds, on the stair, under asmoky lamp, but her beauty filled the landing with radiance as herkindness did my soul.--It was but for a moment, all blessed moment,too brief, alas! Ah, Adrian, friend--old hermit in your cell--_you_have never known life, you who have never tasted a moment such asthat! Then we started apart: there was a noise below, and she had onlytime to whisper that she was on her way to Pulwick to somerelatives--had only heard it that very day--when steps came up thestairs, creaking. With a last promise, a last word of love, I leapedback into my own chamber, there to see (through the chink between doorand post) the untimely old mischief-maker herself pass slowly, sourand solemn, towards her apartments, leaning upon her other niece'sarm. How could I have thought _that_ baggage like my princess?Handsome, if you will; but, with her saucy eye, her raven head, herbrown cheek, no more to be compared to my stately lily than brass togold!"

  The host listening wonderingly, his eyes fixed with kindly gravityupon the speaker as he rattled on, here gave a slight start, allunnoticed of his friend.

  "The next morning, when I had seen the coach and its precious freightmove on once more northward, I began the retreat south, hugging myselfupon luck and success. I had business in Salcombe--perhaps you mayhave heard of the Salcombe schooners--in connection with the fittingout of that sailing wonder, the _Peregrine_. And so," concludedCaptain Jack, laughing again in exuberance of joy, "you may possiblyguess one of the reasons that has brought her and me round by yourisland."

  There ensued a long silence, filled with thoughts, equally pressingthough of widely different complexion, on either side of the hearth.

  * * * * *

  During the meal, which was presently set forth and proclaimed ready byRene, the talk, as was natural in that watchful attendant's presence,ran only on general topics, and was in consequence fitful andunspontaneous. But when the two men, for all their difference of age,temper, and pursuits so strongly, yet so oddly united in sympathy,were once more alone, they naturally fell back under the influence ofthe more engrossing strain of reflection. Again there was silence,while each mused, gazing into space and vaguely listening to theplash of high water under the window.

  "It must have been a strong motive," said Sir Adrian, after his dreamyfashion, like one thinking aloud, "to induce a man like you to abandonhis honourable name."

  Captain Jack flushed at these words, drew his elbows from the table,and shot a keen, inquiring glance at his friend, which, however, fellpromptly before the latter's unconscious gaze and was succeeded by oneof reflective melancholy. Then, with a slight sigh, he raised hisglass to the lamp, and while peering abstractedly through the ruby,"The story of turning my back upon my house," he said musingly,"shaking its very dust off my feet, so to speak, and starting lifeafresh unbeholden to my father (even for what he could not take awayfrom me--my own name),--is a simple affair, although pitiful enoughperhaps. But memories of family wrongs and family quarrels are oftheir nature painful; and, as I am a mirth-loving fellow, I hate tobring them upon me. But perhaps it has occurred to you that I may havebrought some disgrace upon the name I have forsaken."

  "I never allowed myself to think so," said Sir Adrian, surprised."Your very presence by my fireside is proof of it."

  Again the captain scrutinised his host; then with a little laugh:"Pardon me," he cried, "with another man one might accept that likelyproof and be flattered. But with you? why, I believe I know you toowell not to feel sure that you would have received me as kindly andunreservedly, no matter what my past if only you thought that I hadrepented; that you would forgive even a _crime_ regretted; and havingforgiven, forget.... But, to resume, you will believe me when I saythat there was nothing of the sort. No," he went on, with a musingair, "but I could tell you of a boy, disliked at home for his stubbornspirit, and one day thrashed, thrashed mercilessly--at a time when hehad thought he had reached to the pride of man's estate, thrashed byhis own father, and for no just cause.... Oh, Adrian, it is a terriblething to have put such resentment into a lad's heart." He rose as hespoke, and placed himself before the hearth.

  "If ever I have sons," he added after a pause, and at the words hiswhole handsome face relaxed, and became suffused with a tender glow,"I would rather cut my right hand off than raise such a spirit inthem. Well, I daresay you can guess the rest; I will even tell you ina few words, and then dismiss the subject.--I have always had acertain shrewdness at the bottom of my recklessness. Now there was acousin of the family, who had taken to commerce in Liverpool, and whowas therefore despised, ignored and insulted by us gentry of theShaws. So when I packed my bundle, and walked out of the park gate, Ithought of him; and two days later I presented myself at his mansionin Rodney Street, Liverpool. I told him my name, whereat he scowled;but he was promptly brought round upon hearing of my firmdetermination to renounce it and all relations with my father's housefor ever, and of my reasons for this resolve, which he foundexcellent. I could not have lighted upon a better man. He hated myfamily as heartily as even I could wish, and readily, out of spite tothem, undertook to aid me. He was a most enterprising scoundrel, had ashare in half a dozen floating ventures. I expressed a desire for lifeon the ocean wave, and he started me merrily as his nephew, JackSmith, to learn the business on a slaver of his. The 'ebony trade,'you know, was all the go then, Adrian. Many great gentlemen inLancashire had shares in it. Now it is considered low. To say true, ayear of it was more than enough for me--too much! It sickened me. Myuncle laughed when I demurred at a second journey, but to humour me,as I had learned something of the sailing trade, he found me anotherberth, on board a privateer, the _St. Nicholas_. My fortune was madefrom the moment I set foot on that lucky ship, as you know."

  "And you have never seen your father since?"

  "Neither father, nor brothers, nor any of my kin, save the cousin inquestion. All I know is that my father is dead--that he disinheritedme expressly in the event of my being still in the flesh; my eldestbrother reigns; many of us are scattered, God knows where. And mymother"--the sailor's voice changed slightly--"my mother lives in herown house, with some of the younger ones. So much I have ascertainedquite recently. She believes me dead, of course. Oh, it will be a goodday, Adrian, when I can come back to her, independent, prosperous,bringing my beautiful bride with me!... But until I can resume my namein all freedom, this cannot be."

  "But why, my dear fellow, these further risks and adventures? Surely,even at your showing you have enough of this world's goods; why notcome forward, now, at once, openly? I will introduce you, as soon asmay be, in your real character, for the sake of your mother--ofMadeleine herself."

  The sailor shook his head, tempted yet determined.

  "I am not free to do so. I have given my word; my honour is engaged,"he said. Then abruptly asked: "Have you ever heard of guineasmuggling?"

  "Guinea smuggling! No," said Sir Adrian, his amazement giving way toanxiety.

  "No? You surprise me. You who are, or were, I understand, a student ofphilosophical matters, freedom of exchange, and internationalintercourse and the rest of it--things we never shall have so long asgovernments want money, I am thinking.--However, this guinea smugglingis a comparatively new business. Now, _I_ don't know anything aboutthe theory; but I know this much of the practice that, while ourpreventive service won't let guineas pass the Channel (as goods) thisyear, somebody on the other side is devilish anxious to have them atalmost any cost. And the cost, you know, is heavy, for the risk ofconfiscation is great. Well, your banker or your rich man will nottrust his bullion to your common free trader--he is not quite such afool."

  "No," put in Sir Adrian, as the other paused on this mockingproposition. "In the old days, when I was busy in promoting theSavenaye expedition, I came across many of that gentry, and I cannotmind a case where they could have been trusted with such a freight.But perhaps," he added with a small smile, "the standard may be highernow."

  Captain Jack grinned appreciatively. "That is where the 'likes of me'comes in. I will confess this not to be my fi
rst attempt. It is knownthat I am one of the few whose word is warranty. What is more, as Ihave said, it is known that I have the luck. Thus, even if I couldbring my own name into such a trade, I would not; it would be theheight of folly to change now."

  For all his disapproval Sir Adrian could not repress a look ofamusement. "I verily believe, Jack," he said, shaking his head, "thatyou are as superstitious yourself as the best of them!"

  "I ought to make a good thing out of it," said Jack, evasively. "Andeven with all that is lovely to keep me on shore, I would hardly giveit up, if I could. As things stand I could not if I would. Do notcondemn me, Adrian,--that would be fatal to my hopes--nay, I actuallywant your help."

  "I would you were out of it," reiterated Sir Adrian; "it takes solittle to turn the current of a man's life when he seems to be makingstraight for happiness. As to the morals of it, I fail, I must admit,to perceive any wrong in smuggling, at least in the abstract, exceptthat a certain kind of moral teaches that all is wrong that is againstthe law. And yet so many of our laws are so ferocious and inept, andas such the very cause of so much going wrong that might otherwise gowell; so many of those who administer them are themselves so ferociousand inept, that the mere fact of a pursuit being unlawful is no realcondemnation in my eyes. But, as you know, Jack, those who placethemselves above some laws almost invariably renounce all. If you arehanged for stealing a horse, or breaking some fiscal law and hangedfor killing a man, the tendency, under stress of circumstances isobvious. Aye, have we not a proverb about it: as well be hanged for asheep as for a lamb?... There are gruesome stories about your freetraders--and gruesome endings to them. I well remember, in my youngdays, the clanking gibbet on the sands near Preston and the threetarred and iron-riveted carcases hanging, each in its chains, with theperpetual guard of carrion crows.... Hanging in chains is still on thestatute book, I believe. But I'll stop my croaking now. You are notone to be drawn into brutal ways; nor one, I fear, to be frightenedinto prudence. Nevertheless," laughing quietly, "I am curious to knowin what way you expect help from me, in practice. Do you, seriously,want me to embark actually on a smuggling expedition?--I demur, mydear fellow."

  Obviously relieved of some anxiety, the other burst out laughing."Never fear! I know your dislike to bilge water too well. Iappreciate too well also your comfortable surroundings," he returned,seating himself once more complacently in his arm-chair, "much as Ishould love your company on board my pleasure ship--for, if youplease, the _Peregrine_ is no smuggling lugger, but professes to be ayacht. Still, you can be of help for all that, and without liftingeven a finger to promote this illicit trade. You may ignore itcompletely, and yet you will render me incalculable service, providedyou do not debar me from paying you a few more visits in yoursolitude, and give me the range of your caves and cellars."

  "You are welcome enough," said the recluse. "I trust it may end aswell as it promises." And, after a pause, "Madeleine does not know thenature of your present pursuit?"

  "Oddly enough, and happily (for our moments of interview are short, asyou may imagine) she is not curious on the subject. I don't know whatnotions the old Lady Maria may have put into her head about me. Ithink she believes that I am engaged on some secret political intrigueand approves of such. At least I gathered as much from her sympatheticreticence; and, between ourselves, I am beginning to believe itmyself."

  "How is that?" asked the listener, moved to fresh astonishment by thisnew departure.

  "Well, I may tell you, who not only can be as silent as the tomb, butreally have a right to know, since you are tacitly of the conspiracy.This time the transaction is to be with some official of the FrenchCourt. They want the metal, and yet wish to have it secretly. Whattheir motive may be is food for reflection if you like, but it is nobusiness of mine. And, besides the fact that one journey will sufficefor a sum which at the previous rate would have required half a score,all the trouble and uncertainty of landing are disposed of; at anyrate, I am, when all is ready, to be met by a government vessel, getmy _quid pro quo_ as will be settled, and there the matter is to end."

  "A curious expedition," mused Sir Adrian.

  "Yes," said the sailor, "my last will be the best. By the way, willyou embark a few bags with me? I will take no commission."

  Sir Adrian could not help laughing.

  "No, thank you; I have no wish to launch any more of my patrimony onventures--since it would be of no service to you. I had almost as liefyou had made use of my old crow's nest without letting me into the insand outs of your projects. But, be it as it may, it is yours, nightand day. Your visits I shall take as being for me."

  "What a man you are, upon my soul, Sir Adrian!" cried Captain Jack,enthusiastically.

  * * * * *

  Later on, when the "shaking down" hour, in Captain Jack's phraseology,had sounded, and the two friends separated to rest, the young manrefused the offer, dictated by hospitality, of his host's own bedroom.Sir Adrian did not press the point, and, leaving his guest at libertyto enjoy the couch arranged by Rene in a corner under the bookshelves,even as when Mademoiselle de Savenaye had been the guest of the peel,himself retired to that now hallowed apartment.

  "Odd fellow, that," soliloquised Captain Jack, as, slowly divestinghimself, he paced about the long room and, in the midst of roseatereflections, examined his curious abode. "Withal, as good as everstepped. It was a fine day's work our old _St. Nicholas_ did, aboutthis time eight years ago. Rather unlike a crowded battery deck,this," looking from the solemn books to the glinting organ pipes, andconscious of the great silence. "As for me, I should go crazy bymyself here. But it suits him. Queer fish!" again ruminated the youngsailor. "He hates no one and yet dislikes almost everybody, exceptthat funny little Frenchy and me. Whereas _I_ like every man Imeet--unless I detest him!... My beautiful plumage!" this whilstcarefully folding the superfine coat and thereon the endless silkenstock. "Now there's a fellow who does not care a hang for any womanunder the sun, and yet enters into another chap's love affairs as ifhe understood it all. I believe it will make him happy to win my causewith Madeleine. I wish one could do something for _his_ happiness. Itis absurd, you know," as though apostrophising an objector, "a mancan't be happy without a woman. And yet again, my good Jack, you neverthought that before you met Madeleine. He has not met his Madeleine,that's what it means. Where ignorance is bliss.... Friend Adrian! Letus console ourselves and call you ignorantly happy, in your old crow'snest. You have not stocked it so badly either.--For all your ignorancein love, you have a pretty taste in liquor."

  So thinking, he poured himself a last glass of his host's wine, whichhe held for a moment in smiling cogitation, looking, with the mind'seye, through the thick walls of the keep, across the cold mist-coveredsands of Scarthey and again through the warm and scented air of acertain room (imagination pictured) where Madeleine must at that hourlie in her slumber. After a moment of silent adoration he sent arapturous kiss landwards and tossed his glass with a last toast:

  "Madeleine, my sweet! To your softly closed lids."

  And again Captain Jack fell to telling over the precious tale of thatmorning's interview, furtively secured, by that lover's luck he sodutifully blessed, under the cluster of Scotch firs near the grey andcrumbling boundary walls of Pulwick Park.