CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH
A Bargain with the Revenue
About eight o'clock that same evening, while Tonkin was still conversingwith his intimates in the parlour of the Five Pilchards, a horseman rodeup to the house occupied by Mr. Polwhele on the south cliff. His seatwas not that of an accomplished equestrian, and his manner ofdismounting would have given some anxiety to anyone who had a regard forhim. The long cloak he wore, with the collar turned up almost to theeyes, incommoded his legs, and only by clutching at his patient steed'smane did he avoid a fall.
The house stood alone, and its solitary situation was a source ofsatisfaction to the traveller. A light within, and a full moon without,gave him a reasonable assurance that the riding-officer was at home.Accordingly he hitched the bridle to a hook placed for that purpose inthe wall beside the door, and knocked. Mr. Polwhele was a bachelor, andit happened that the woman who was housekeeper, cook, and housemaid inone, had gone into the village, so that he opened the door himself.
"Well?" he said, peering at the close-wrapped figure that stood on thethreshold.
"'Tis I, Maister Polwhele," said the man, at the same time turning downhis collar.
"Doubledick!" exclaimed the astonished officer. "Well, of all the----!You'd be safer in France, my man."
"Iss, maybe; but I be come home, and I'd like a word with 'ee, Maister."
"Well, there's no warrant out for your arrest, so I suppose you----;yes, come in. I don't understand this at all."
Doubledick followed the riding-officer into the room where he had beenreading. He carefully shut the door behind him, offered Mr. Polwhele apinch of snuff, and took one himself, then sat down rather stiffly.
Half an hour later he emerged from the house, remounted his horse, androde away, not northward in the direction of his home, but eastwardalong a bridle path across the moor. In a quarter of an hour, however,he turned to the left, skirted the village, passing about midway betweenit and the church, and continued for some time in the same direction.Then once more he struck to the left and came by-and-by to thehigh-road, at a point between the Towers and the Dower House. He turnedinto the drive leading to the latter, but instead of reining up at thefront entrance, he passed round the house to the back, and having againawkwardly dismounted, he rapped on the kitchen door.
"Oh, 'tis you, Maister Doubledick," said Susan, when she opened to him."Folks said you'd gone away."
"So I had, my dear; but I be back-along, as you can see wi' yer prettyeyes. Now tell me, be the Maister to home?"
"Yes, he be in his room, rayther poorly."
"And be he alone?"
"Yes, but 'tis not for long, folks say. We'll have a mistress aforelong, and i hope she be likeable, that I do."
"Well, now, that's new news, to be sure. And who be the woman?"
"She bean't 'zackly a woman. 'Tis Sir Bevil's darter, seemingly, andshe be a maid younger nor I, they say."
"So she be, to be sure. Dear life! And I never heerd o't. Here's ashillin' for your news, to buy 'ee a fairin'."
"Thank 'ee, Maister Doubledick, but I shan't need un for a fairin'. I'mto have a fine gown o' silk, only think o't!"
"A present from Maister John, I s'pose?"
"No; 'tis to be from Sam Pollex, that young boy as lives up at Towers.Didn't 'ee know what a treasure he found?"
"What was it, my dear?"
"Why, he and young Squire were rummagin' in some cave yonder--I don'tknow 'zackly wheer--and they come upon boxes full o' silks and satins,all the colours o' the rainbow. Young Sam be goin' to gie me enough fora gown--a kind young feller, that he is."
"Well, then, if ye don't mind, my dear, I'll take back that shillin',seein' as ye're so well purvided, and gie 'ee a groat instead. Bean'tno good to waste money, be it? And now, will 'ee tell yer maister I become for a word wi' un?"
Susan went away with a cloud upon her face.
"Maister will see 'ee," she said when she returned. "Take yer groat,Maister Doubledick; some day ye may need it more nor I."
Doubledick pocketed the coin with a chuckle, and followed her along thepassage to her master's room.
"This is amazing, Doubledick," cried Trevanion, when the door was shut."I never expected to see you again."
"Hee! hee! Rusco bean't fitty for everyone, Maister John," replied theinnkeeper, with a meaning look. "Ye be took bad, the maidy says."
"Oh, 'tis nothing but a fit of the dismals. How in the world did youget away?"
"It do seem a miracle to 'ee, I s'pose. Why, fust man I seed when theyput me on quay was a old friend o' yourn--leastways, 'a used to be sech.He be a good friend o' mine, too, 'cos I did un a good turn a while ago.He don't speak our Christian tongue very well, poor soul, but I made ununderstand a mistake had been made wi' me, and he showed his truefriendship by bringing me over to Megavissey. I rid over from there,and plaguey stiff I be in the jints."
"But you're in great danger; don't you know that? You made a terriblebungle of the job, my man."
"True, but them above had a finger in it. I bean't sorry as I've seedRusco, not I. And as to danger, well, Maister John, I'll speak to 'eeas a friend. The feller I named--no, to be sure, I didn' name un, but'tis all one--the Frenchy do seem to be mizzy-mazy in his head. Hetelled to I of a feller called Robinson, and seemed to have got it inhis furrin noddle that 'twas the same name as Trevanion, or fust cousinto 't. He axed a tarrible lot of questions about un, wheer he lived,and what he did wi's days and nights, and seemed to I as if he'd got arod in pickle for un. Jown me if I didn' think 'a wanted to make a callon this Robinson feller, and 'ud be tarrible wisht if 'a didn' find unto home."
Doubledick kept his eyes fixed upon Trevanion's face, but if he hadexpected to see any sign of uneasiness, he was disappointed.
"I take no interest in your friend or what he wants," said Trevanion."I am more concerned about you, Doubledick. You're not safe here, youknow."
"That's what I've come to see 'ee about," returned the innkeeper. "Buttruly I be a bufflehead; I ought to ha' named un to 'ee, in course Iought. His name is Delarousse, Maister. And to tell 'ee the truth,thinkin' he was a bit over coorious in the questions he axed, I telledun a thing or two as wer a trifle crooked, I did. I telled un how thisMaister Trevanion as he thought was Robinson was often away from home,and how 'a dwelt in a big house on the cliff called the Towers. He axedI if the Towers was near the top of a hill, and I telled un 'twas agoodish bit away, Maister Robinson--Trevanion, I mean--havin' come intothe property. Thinks I to myself, if he comes to Polkerran one fine daya-caprousin' and makin' a stoor, 't'ud be just as well he went up-alongto Towers and showed his tantrums to the cussed folk theer. What do 'eesay to that, Maister John?"
"You are talking a deal of nonsense, Doubledick," was the answer."Don't you understand that as soon as 'tis known you are back in thevillage you'll be arrested for kidnapping Penwarden?"
"Oh, ay, that's what they say, is it? But don't 'ee think, now, wecould persuade the officers o' the law to leave me bide?"
"Quite impossible. Penwarden and my young cousin will swear to you, andthere has been such a stir about the matter that Sir Bevil or the Vicarwill sign the warrant the moment they hear of your arrival."
"Maybe. But money do make the mare to go, Maister, and seems to I, ifso be you'd help, we med put a clapper on evil-speakin' tongues.A-course 't 'ud need a pretty big sum to do it proper, but theer, what'sthat to 'ee, rollin' in money as you be? And I know well ye'll put yerhand in pocket to help a poor feller in a quag, purticler as he've donesummat for 'ee, in Polkerran and Rusco both."
"I'll be hanged if I do," cried Trevanion, at last shaken out of hiscomposure. "You made a wretched bungle of a simple job, and you'll haveto take the consequences."
"Good now! I like to hear a man speak fine and brave, but I hev a bravemouth-speech o' my own." Doubledick's tone was as smooth anddeferential as it had been throughout the conversation, but an o
nlookermight now have observed that he was beginning to show his teeth. "ZackyTonkin, now," he proceeded: "I reckon he'd be fain to know whyDelarousse warn't no longer the feller to do trade with: that bit o'knowledge med be worth payin' for. And Sir Bevil: iss sure, his darterbe a nesh young female----"
"Confound you! What do you mean by that?" cried Trevanion.
"Ah! little small birds do carr' little small seeds, they do. Highpersons like Sir Bevil be mighty purticler when 'tis question o' lawfulmatrimony."
Trevanion, red with anger, rose from his chair and came towardsDoubledick threateningly.
"Ah! dear life!" continued the innkeeper, unflinchingly, "and there beMounseer Delarousse, too, thankful for what I done for him. It did vexme tarrible to mizzle un; but a word can put that right, and let un knowthe true dwellin' o' that coorious feller Robinson. In course hisgrudge agen Robinson bean't nothing to I, but he do seem tarrible sourand rampageous. Howsomever, let every man fight his own battles. NowI'll go home-along, and I wish 'ee well, Maister."
He rose, took his hat, and moved towards the door.
Trevanion looked after him for a moment irresolutely, then stretched hishand towards the bell-rope.
"Stay, Doubledick," he said, "you must take a thimbleful before you go."
"Not for me, Maister," replied the innkeeper, with a virtuous expressionof countenance.
"Nonsense, man. It won't poison you. You have read me quite wrongly,my friend. Did ever a man take offence so easily! You've come badlyout of my little test, but I'll overlook it. I've a deal more patiencethan you.... Susan, bring the decanter and glasses. Hot, Doubledick?"
"Well, I don't mind if it be, this chilly night. But 'tis gettin'latish; it must be only a nibleykin, Maister."
"Now, Doubledick," said Trevanion, as they sipped their liquor, "I'm notthe man to refuse to help a friend, even if he shows himself only afair-weather friend after all."
"I knowed it," cried Doubledick heartily. "A little small voice insidetelled me ye were only a-tryin' me, and 'ud show yerself in yer naturaltrue colour at last. Well, Maister, ten pound won't do it; no, King'sservants do hev high notions, be-jowned to 'em. Twenty? I be afeard itwouldn' go far. 'Tis well to do a thing handsome when 'tis to be done.Fifty? Iss, a man can do summat wi' fifty. Fifty pound 'll keep amany tongues quiet, and I'll be dazed if I don't snap my fingers atjustices, sheriffs, hangmen, and constables, if I do hev fifty pound tomy hand."
Trevanion rose and went to a cabinet in a corner of the room. Unlockingit, he opened a drawer, standing with his back to Doubledick. There wasa sound of rustling paper.
"'Tis a monstrous sum," he said, half turning.
"Ah, 'tis, to be sure," said Doubledick feelingly, "but King's officersdo hev' a tarrible big swaller."
"Well, here you are," said Trevanion, recrossing the room. "I'm not theman to refuse a friend."
"So ye said afore. Thank 'ee. 'Tis atween us two, in course; my mouthis shet. But there's another thing, Maister. Did 'ee know as old Joeand young Dick brought a heap o' silks and satins out o' the old mine?"
"The deuce they did!" cried Trevanion in astonishment. "Where did theyget them from?"
"That I can't say. But old mine do belong to 'ee, surely."
"It does. Whatever they have found is my property. How do you knowthis, Doubledick?"
"The little small birds, Maister. Well, I've telled 'ee for yer good."
"I'll not forget it. Egad, they shall hear from me."
When Doubledick left the house a few minutes later, he carried thebundle of crisp white notes snug in his breast-pocket. He said good-byevery cordially to his host, and, mounting his horse, rode boldly alongthe highway and down the hill to the inn.
Most of the smugglers had returned to their homes, but Tonkin, NathanPendry, and one or two more still remained in the inn-parlour, withtheir legs stretched out towards a genial fire, their long churchwardenpipes filling the room with clouds of smoke. Mrs. Doubledick had goneto bed. No other visitors were to be expected at this hour, and thecompany would let themselves out at their own time. The woman was tornbetween hope and fear. Tonkin had learnt in Roscoff that Doubledick hadleft with Delarousse; and Mrs. Doubledick was relieved to know that herhusband had escaped the miseries of confinement in a French prison; butshe was troubled lest he should fall into equally rigorous hands athome.
Doubledick entered the room quietly.
"Well, neighbours all," he said behind their backs, "a man's home be thefittiest place for un, I b'lieve."
The men sprang up in amazement, grasped his hand, smote him on the back.
"What did I tell 'ee!" said Tonkin. "Didn' I say neighbour Doubledickwas a clever feller, and 't 'ud take a deal o' cleverness to get overhe?"
"Ye did, there's no denyin' it," said Simon Mail. "Ah, neighbourDoubledick, you was born wi' noble intellects."
"But you be a terrible bold feller," said Pendry. "There'll be a warrantout for 'ee, and ye'll be carr'd to Trura jail, as sure as I be alive."
"If 'tis to be, 'tis; and rayther would I be jailed in Cornwall than inFrance," replied Doubledick. "But I won't be jailed nowheer, I b'lieve,and I'll tell 'ee why. Theer was only two as seed me--Joe Penwarden andthe young tom-holla at the Towers. Well, they dussn't swear to me."
"Why not, neighbour?" said Pendry.
"Because they been up to jiggery theirselves, hee, hee!"
"Speak yer meanin' plain, for the sake o' poor simple I," said Mail.
"Hee, hee! I mind I telled old Joe he'd hev to answer for pickin' andstealin', and so 'a woll. Do 'ee know, neighbours, they brought out o'well a noble store o' raiment, purple and fine linen, as pa'son says?"
"Never!" ejaculated Pendry and Mail together, Tonkin smoking in silence.
"Iss, 'tis true as Gospel. They brought out silks and satins and whoknows what all, and look 'ee, friends, that be thievin'!"
"I don't know about that," said Tonkin.
"But I do know," said Doubledick positively. "We hain't used the wellfor ten year, we all do know that. Last time 'twas only 'bacca andbrandy--not a bale o' silk or passel o' lace. Well, then, this stuffbein' buried in the earth, or we'd ha' found it, I reckon it had beentheer ever since the landfall, hunderds o' years ago, in yer grandfer'sdays, Zacky. See then, the true owner o't, arter all this time, be theowner o' the land, and that's Maister John--would ha' been Squire tillthree months ago. Hee, hee! They ha' stole Maister John's proputty."
"I've heerd tell o' what clever folks call treasure trove," said Mail,"and that belongs to King Jarge."
"King Jarge ha' got quite as much as he can do with up-along to Lunnon,"said Doubledick, "and I don't care who the man is, they silks and satinsdo belong now to Maister John. Well, do 'ee think they wicked robberswill hev the impedence to swear agen a honest free-trader like me?They'll never do it. Maister John will claim the goods and threaten 'emwi' the law, and that'll be enough to keep their mouths shet, trust me."
"How did this wonderful bit o' knowledge come to 'ee neighbour, youbein' away and all?" asked Mail.
"Ah! little birds, Simon, little small birds," replied Doubledick with aknowing look.
"Then maybe you do know another 'mazin' bit o' news," said Pendry.
"Maybe I do. Tell to me, and then I'll tell 'ee."
"Why, young Squire this very day did save young Jake from bein'drownded, didn' he, Zacky?"
"Iss, fay," said Tonkin, "and I went up-along to-night to say thank 'ee,as a true Cornishman oughted. And I tell 'ee what, friend, we been allwrong about Squire informin' and all that. I axed un plain, man to man,and he telled me I oughter be ashamed to think sech a thing, and Ibelieve un."
"But did he deny it?" asked the innkeeper.
"Well, no, I couldn' go so far as to say that."
"Ah, Zacky, you be a simple plum-baked feller, to be sure. Ye don'tknow the windin's and twistin's o' these high gentry. Plain simplesouls like 'ee don't know what eddication do for a man. That young w
helpof Squire's do go to pa'son and larn all the wisdom and cleverness ofancient men of old; 'a can twist 'ee round his finger, I b'lieve."
Tonkin looked troubled. Doubledick had such a reputation forknowingness that his opinion carried weight.
"Well, time will show," said Tonkin. "I tell 'ee one thing, that Iwon't hev a hand no more in anything agen Squire, not till I do knowsartin-sure. What do 'ee say, Nathan?"
"Iss, I say the same. Let's be sartin-sure, that's what I say," repliedPendry.
Doubledick puffed his scorn of such simple-mindedness.
"Well, I be tired, neighbours," he said. "Riding a-hoss-back fromMegavissey hev well-nigh scat me in jowds" (by which he meant, brokenhim in pieces), "and I yearn for my bed. We'll see what we will see, Ib'lieve."
The company broke up. The fishers went their way; Doubledick closed thedoor behind them, and raked out the fire. Before he ascended to hisbedroom he locked his bundle of banknotes in a strong box which he keptunder the stairs, and might have been heard chuckling gleefully.
Next morning the inn was early besieged by a crowd of fishers who hadheard of Doubledick's return, and were agog to learn all thecircumstances from his own lips. A little later the newly-importedminers arrived, and, later still, as the news travelled farther,farmers, millers, and dairymen flocked into the village. Doubledickrubbed his hands with glee at the trade he was doing. Except to hisintimates, he explained very little. To the questions of the others hereplied only by nods and winks, and they at last ceased to interrogatehim, remarking one to another that he was a real knowing one; nobodycould get round him; "a wonderful feller, truly, for see how soon he hevslipped away from France, wheer many a good man hev rotted in prisonsince these 'nation wars began."
There were many who expected that before the day was out Doubledickwould be arrested and carried before Sir Bevil, and a throng of idlershung about the inn in anticipation of this exciting event. But noconstable, soldier, or sheriff's officer appeared, and at nightfall theinnkeeper's reputation was higher than ever.
Two men believed that they knew the reason of the authorities'forbearance. John Trevanion fondly supposed that the banknotes withwhich he had parted had found their way into the pockets of Mr. Mildmay,Mr. Polwhele, and Joe Penwarden. In those days the bribery of revenueofficers was not infrequent. Tonkin, on the other hand, suspected thatthe Squire had persuaded Penwarden not to prosecute, in order toconsolidate the better feeling between the village and the Towers towhich Dick's rescue of Jake had given birth. The actual reason wasknown to four men alone: the revenue officers, Penwarden, and Doubledickhimself.
About midday Sam Pollex came rushing up to the Towers from the villagewith the news of Doubledick's return.
"Nonsense," said Dick; "he wouldn't dare show his face again."
"Name it all, Maister, didn' I see un with my own eyes?" cried Sam."There he be, down-along at his kiddly-wink, more bustious nor ever, ormay I never speak again."
Dick hastened instantly to the little white cottage on the cliff, wherePenwarden had again taken up his abode.
"Joe," he cried, bursting in like a whirlwind, "Doubledick is back!Come with me to the Parsonage; we'll get a warrant for his arrest."
Penwarden was eating his dinner. He conveyed a piece of fish to hismouth without showing any sign of surprise.
"Back, is he?" he said. "Ah, well! Rusco warn't good for his health,seemingly."
"It would suit him better than Truro jail. Come along; there's justtime to get to the Parsonage and back before my dinner."
"Not for a old ancient feller like me."
"Well, I'll go alone then; but they'll want two witnesses, I believe,before any justice will commit him."
"They will, I believe, but I won't be one. No, I couldn' bring myselfto 't."
"What on earth do you mean?" cried Dick in amazement. "'Tis your dutyto bring the villain to justice."
"Villain he is, and I'd crack his skull as soon as look at him. But asto duty--I knows my duty, Maister Dick, and my duty is to let un bide.Besides, never could I face the stoor of appearin' in a court o'justice. Theer'd be lawyer fellers in wigs and gowns, axin' me this,that, and t'other till I wouldn' know whether I pitched on my head or myheels. But I'd fain fetch un a crack on the nuddick, so as 'a couldn'stir for a fortnight."
"Oh, well, of course 'tis your business," said Dick, somewhat offended."If you don't prosecute him, I suppose he'll go free. 'Tis no concernof mine."
And he returned to the Towers, and told his father that old Joe hadn'tso much spirit as he thought.
Two hours before, Penwarden had received a visit from Mr. Mildmay andMr. Polwhele. When they informed him that Doubledick had returned, hestarted up, seized his hat, and declared with great vehemence that hewould go straight along to the Parsonage and get Mr. Carlyon's warrantfor the villain's arrest. The revenue officers had much ado to appeasehim, and only when Mr. Mildmay made a strong appeal to his sense of dutyas an old Navy man did he agree to the inactive course proposed.
"If 'tis a matter of duty to the King, as ye say, sir," he remarked, "Ireckon I do know my duty as well as any man. Hain't I served with LordAdmiral Rodney? Not a man of us but did what he bid at once, or he'dha' knowed what for. Did I ever tell 'ee how the Lord Admiral spoke tome special one day?"
"Well now, let me see," said Mr. Mildmay, who had heard the story ascore of times. "Did you ever hear it, Polwhele?"
"In Jamaica, wasn't it, Joe?" said the riding-officer, who having beenon the coast ten times as long as Mr. Mildmay, had probably heard thestory ten times as often.
"No, 'twas on Plymouth Hoe, sir. I was cruisin' theer one day when whoshould I see beatin' up but Lord Admiral Rodney, convoyin' two handsomefemales--ah! as clippin' craft as ever I seed. While I was standin' by,all of a sudden he put up his helm and steered right across my bows.'Get out of the way, you cross-eyed son of a sea-cook!' says he, and thetwo females laughed like a brook in June. Ah! 'tidn' every commonmariner as could say he'd been spoke to special by sech a fineman-o'-war as Lord Admiral Rodney."
"You're right, Joe," said Mr. Mildmay. "No admiral at all, let alone agreat man like Rodney, ever spoke to me, worse luck. Well then, you'lllet matters rest, old fellow, and you won't be sorry for it."
"But I may crack un over the skull if he gets in my way, I s'pose?"
"Well, yes, but not too hard; dead men tell no tales, you know."
"I'll mind o' that, and not gie un a whole broadside. Dear life! What amix-up of a world it is, to be sure?"
The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of Eighteen Hundred and Four Page 19