The Black Rocks of Morwenstow

by John Wilcox

  ‘I do, indeed, sir. I must thank you again.’

  ‘Away with you. If you are asked, this conversation never took place. Oh, one more thing.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Marry that girl before someone else gets her. Good day to you.’

  ‘Good day, Sir George.’

  Rowena was still waiting. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Oh, just to give me general advice. Come, we must go and find your father. I am worried about his health.’

  They walked to the inn, via the jailhouse, where Joshua picked up his few belongings, relieved to find that everything, including his knife and his coins, were waiting for him. At the inn, however, Dr Acland was nowhere to be found. They were told that he was out walking.

  ‘Well, that is good news,’ said Joshua. ‘It must mean that he is feeling better.’

  Rowena said nothing but her face wore a worried frown. They sat by a window which gave a good view of the street and ordered tea while they waited for him.

  ‘Ah, there he is,’ cried Rowena, obviously relieved. ‘Oh, but …’ Her voice tailed away.

  ‘Yes,’ said Joshua slowly. ‘He is talking to Cunningham, isn’t he? I wonder what they are discussing?’

  Indeed, the two men were standing in a doorway, some two hundred yards away, too far to see the expressions on their faces but not to observe their body language. Cunningham stood tall and erect and seemingly silent. Acland, however, was agitated, head thrust forward and gesturing with his hand.

  ‘I want to see Cunningham, but not with your father present,’ said Josh. ‘I have a rather large bone to pick with him. But it looks as though your father is picking it already. He seems quite upset.’

  Rowena put her hand to her mouth for a quick moment. Then she said: ‘I expect he is remonstrating with the captain about the terrible things he said in the courtroom about you. That was disgraceful.’

  ‘I quite agree, but I don’t need your father to fight my battles for me. I will have it out with Cunningham when we get back to Hartland. I don’t intend to let this matter lie.’

  The anxious look returned to Rowena’s features. ‘No, Josh. I agree that the man has behaved disgracefully but I do think it would be dangerous to seek him out and cross him. Just let it lie for the moment. We shall be having that Lloyd’s enquiry soon. Save yourself for that.’

  ‘Well, I think that I have obviously crossed him already. But … Ah, your father is returning. I must say he is walking well and he has brought the stick I borrowed from him. That was thoughtful of him. Let’s go and meet him.’

  They hurried to the door and were greeted by a frown then a smile from the doctor. He seized Josh’s hand. ‘Congratulations, my boy, on what I suppose we must call your acquittal. I am sorry I was not there to hear it, but I felt rather unwell.’

  ‘Well, your constitutional seems to have brought an improvement, sir. And I am glad of it.’

  ‘So am I, Father.’ But Rowena looked disturbed. ‘But I am not sure you should be out and about. Why don’t you go back to your room and rest before we set out for home?’

  ‘Yes, I might well do that. But only for an hour at the most. Let us leave at, say, two of the clock. As it is we will have to break our journey, as we did coming here, Emma. I think you two should rest, too. You must drive the donkey cart, Joshua and I will ride my mare.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’

  They left promptly and Josh realised that none of them had referred to Acland’s spirited conversation with Cunningham. He shrugged. Well maybe it had nothing to do with the hearing in court and the captain’s evidence. He decided to let the matter rest there.

  The weather was mild and it was not unpleasant riding through the moors on the way south. It occurred to Joshua that he should have enquired in Barnstable about the tinners, for he wondered if they had found employment. Perhaps Sir George would have known. But there had been little time to do anything other than worry about his own affairs. They found the inn where the doctor and Rowena had stayed on their journey north and arrived in Hartland the following day just as the wind was freshening from the north-west, threatening bad weather to come.

  Joshua immediately asked Mrs Brown, who had house-kept during their absence, if there had been any mail delivered for him but she could only shake her head. What, he wondered, did this mean? Was Mary still away or could she simply not face writing to him? If the latter was the case, perhaps she felt she could not keep her engagement promise. What would that mean to him … ? He shook his head and refused to consider it. Mary was not like that. She would be writing soon.

  Alone in his room, Joshua considered what he should do about the evidence given by Millbury, Pengelly and Cunningham. Of the three, Cunningham’s had been the most venal and damning. He could not let that lie, particularly after he had been sought out by the officer and assured of his friendship. No. He would face him.

  No time like the present. He swung himself down off the bed – his inactivity in the jail at least seemed to have served him well in terms of his injury, for it gave him little trouble now. Making sure that his knife was sitting snugly in its sheath at his back, he shrugged on his coat and picked up the doctor’s stout stick from its position by the front door.

  He closed the door gently behind him, for he did not wish to be delayed in arguing with Rowena, and set off up the hill. The forbidding gate at the barracks was guarded by a Preventer and Joshua demanded to see Captain Cunningham. The man eyed him dubiously – probably remembering him from the affray on the heath – and called out to another man, who disappeared indoors. Somewhat to his surprise, Cunningham himself appeared, in his shirtsleeves but carrying a cutlass in its scabbard.

  ‘I am not inviting you in, Weyland,’ he said, leaning nonchalantly on the gate, ‘in case you had thoughts of assassination in your mind. I wouldn’t put anything past you in view of your bribing of that stupid old magistrate in Barnstaple. But I am here, if you want me, and, if it’s swords you prefer, then I have mine and I can get you another one in an instant.’

  ‘No, Cunningham. You tried to get me hanged but I don’t wish you dead. But I do demand an explanation from you of the lies you told in that courtroom. Dammit man, it was only the other day that you visited me in the doctor’s home and assured me of your friendship.’

  The startlingly white teeth flashed in Cunningham’s dark face. ‘Did I? Well, I’ve changed my mind. I am convinced that you are a bad lot, Weyland, and have introduced violence to my parish. I am sure you killed poor old Jem.’

  Without taking his eyes off those of the man before him, Josh slowly shook his head. ‘You know that is untrue. I would have no motive or means of doing that. But I am here to give you a warning. I want you to listen carefully.’

  ‘Oh, I shall do so, my dear Second Mate, I assure you.’

  ‘Good. Now, I am convinced you are behind much of the illegal happenings here. I don’t know yet exactly what they are but I am determined to find out and bring you to justice. I did not, of course, bribe the magistrate in Barnstaple. Men like that are unbribable, but he knows of my suspicions and will have his eye on you. And so will I. Good day to you.’

  He turned on his heel and limped away – the hill had put a strain on the doctor’s handiwork.

  Cunningham called after him: ‘I shall look forward to our final reckoning, Second Mate. But be careful of what you wish for. You could cause much hardship to the people here, for you do not know what you are blundering into. You are a fool, Weyland. Nothing but a fool …’ The words faded away as Josh stumped down the hill, but he heard them all.

  It set him worrying. What did Cunningham mean by his digging out the facts causing possible harm to the people of Hartland and, presumably, Morwenstow? He shrugged his shoulders. What was planned would come to pass, whatever he did.

  The atmosphere at the dinner table that evening, Josh felt, was a little strained and he wondered if the doctor and his daughter had exchanged words. It was a feeling that continued
during the next few days. Josh studied the hill now every morning to see if he could stop the postman and make sure that no letter had come while he had been away. Or perhaps one that had been intercepted by Rowena. He shook his head. He was still unsure now how much he could trust her in the role of postmistress.

  He avoided going down to the harbour, for he knew that if he saw Pengally the temptation to demand an explanation for his evidence would be too strong to resist. For the same reason, he forsook the dubious comfort of visiting the inn. Then at last a letter arrived for the doctor. It informed him that the date for the Lloyd’s enquiry would be in just one week’s time. A day later another arrived for Joshua, summoning him to appear as a witness.

  He sighed with relief. At last something was happening! Whatever the result of the enquiry, he resolved to leave for Dover immediately afterwards, although he did not inform the doctor or Rowena of his decision. He tried now to thrust the image of the doctor’s daughter from his mind and replace it with Mary’s buxom face and figure. But he found this difficult, not least when Rowena approached him and jerked him out of his melancholy.

  ‘Come now, Josh,’ she said, her eyes sparkling. ‘We have a few days remaining before this enquiry. Let us get out in the donkey cart and enjoy this wonderful scenery. Mrs Brown, who knows these things by the reaction of her arthritic joints, tells me that the weather is due to be fair tomorrow. Shall we go up on the moor for a ride?’

  He looked into her bright face and couldn’t think of saying no. ‘What a good idea. And let us walk a little on the moor. I could do with some exercise.’

  ‘Good. We shall set off immediately after breakfast.’

  True to Mrs Brown’s forecast, the day dawned brightly and Rowena hummed a tune as she prepared a luncheon picnic for them. Even so, Josh was careful to sharpen his knife on the doorstep before they set out and to borrow the doctor’s stick, although he had taken to leaving it behind on his usual walks along the high street.

  They set off and Josh drew in deep breaths of the air that came in from the sea. Was there any finer air, he found himself musing, than that which blew off the ocean along these frightening but impressive cliffs? He found himself saying as much to Rowena – and immediately regretted it, for, of course, she used the question to turn on him.

  ‘Will you really leave me and all of this, then, when you hear from Mary?’ she asked, a tear not far away in her eye.

  ‘I think I must, Rowena. I know I shall hate having to do so but my staying here, after the enquiry, will, I think, just provoke my enemies and make everyone upset – both in your father’s house and in the village.’

  She tossed her head. ‘Well it won’t make me upset and I don’t care a toss what the people of the village think.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I have to say, though, that I think Papa is a little restive. I am not sure whether that is because of your presence or the promise of the enquiry. I have a feeling that he is regretting opening that can of worms. But, look,’ she turned to him, giving him that familiar smile that lit up her face, ‘let us not waste this lovely day talking about things like that. We are young and we must enjoy ourselves.’

  She gave his knee a squeeze and flicked the whip at the donkey. ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind. You know the country better than me.’

  ‘Well, the view from the Point is wonderful. We never did get there that awful day.’ He frowned and she hurried on. ‘But we won’t go on the path with the tree. I know another way.’

  ‘Fine.’

  They had long since passed the Preventers’ barracks and Josh took a casual look down and back at the grim building. He was surprised to see about a dozen men trot out through the entrance, line up outside and then march up the hill towards them. He shrugged his shoulders. A patrol, he assumed, and turned his attention back to the path they were following, away from the cliff edge now and onto the moor itself.

  Larks were rising from the low bushes and singing their way upwards, and patches of blue sky were showing between the everpresent clouds that hung over the cliff. Josh felt his spirits lifting by the minute. For the first time since the loss of The Lucy he felt a desire to go back to sea, to the life he had chosen as a career, and he found himself thinking of applying for his first mate’s ticket, which would demand new studying. Where would he do that – at Dover or, he frowned, here on these windswept cliffs?

  His musing was interrupted by Rowena. ‘Nearly there, Josh. Nearly on the Point. Just as well,’ she nodded at the donkey, ‘poor old Edward is getting old for this sort of climb. In a few moments I’ll show you one of the finest sights in old England. If the clouds don’t close in we should be able to see across to Wales.’

  And, indeed they could. They were high – some four hundred feet above sea level – and the wind plucked at their clothing as they climbed down from the cart and warily approached the edge. It was terrifying to look down almost vertically to where the sea below them crashed onto the rocks that seemed to have been scattered there by a giant hand, causing white spray to rise in a curtain like a bride’s veil.

  ‘It’s a bit windy to picnic here, don’t you think, Josh? Shall we go back a bit further onto the moor?’

  ‘No. Let’s stay here. I love to feel the wind coming straight off the sea.’

  ‘Oh, so do I. Put the waterproof down and put this blanket on top. I’ll bring the food.’

  Josh staked Edward out much further from the edge and left him contentedly grazing, while Rowena laid out plates and bottles of cider and then cold chicken and ham slices and began cutting into a loaf.

  ‘Oh, Josh,’ she said, ‘we should do more of this. It really is …’

  She didn’t finish her sentence for Joshua was staring over her shoulder. ‘I wonder what the hell they want,’ he murmured.

  Rowena turned and saw the Preventers breasting the crest of the hill leading to the village and were now spreading out in a half-moon crescent, making to stretch out around them from the cliff edge on either side of them and steadily advancing. They all carried cudgels but cutlasses hung from their belts.

  ‘Damn!’ hissed Joshua. ‘I might have realised. They’re coming to do Cunningham’s dirty work for him.’ He reached back and drew out his knife. ‘Get behind me, Rowena, and whatever you do, don’t go near the edge. They’re going to push us over the edge and claim that it was suicide. Two tragic lovers and all that.’

  ‘Oh no, Josh. They surely wouldn’t do that.’

  He turned and kissed her soundly on the lips. ‘I’m so sorry that I’ve got you into this, Rowena. It’s me they really want but they can’t afford to leave witnesses. Now, I suggest you lie down behind me. The very act of having to pick you up might deter them.’

  ‘No. I am not lying down, thank you very much.’ Rowena had once more reverted to being a Gypsy. ‘I shall stand with you and fight them.’ She brandished the sharp kitchen knife she had been using to slice the loaf. ‘I have a knife, too, now. Let them come.’ She tossed her hair back but Josh could see that she was trembling.

  ‘You are a remarkable girl, Rowena. But wait, let me talk to them first.’

  He stepped forward and ran his eye along the line that was gradually closing in on them, hoping to find the man whom he had wounded on the heath and who had been tended by Rowena. He, at least, might have proven to be a restraining influence. But every face was grimly set and bent on violence. Of Cunningham, of course, there was no sign: no distant horseman watching events this time.

  ‘What do you want?’ Josh shouted.

  No one replied but they all kept moving onwards, closing the half circle around the pair. Then one of them jeered: ‘’Ope you left a note.’

  ‘What does he mean?’ asked Rowena.

  ‘Never mind.’ Josh lifted his voice. ‘If you want to throw us over the edge, then by all means come forward.’ He held up his knife. ‘We both have knives and know how to use them. We promise to take at least two of you with us. Oh, and you should know
that Sir George Lansbury, the magistrate at Barnstaple, knows your game and, if we disappear, then you and Cunningham will be behind bars in an instant.’

  The mention of the magistrate by name seemed to give them pause for a moment, then the man who had jeered threw down his stick and drew his cutlass. ‘I’m not afraid of a boy and a gal,’ he called out. ‘I’ll show you how to deal with these two.’

  He broke into a run, cutlass raised, and Josh prepared to parry the downward swing of the weapon, but Rowena was quicker. She moved quickly away to the right of Josh and, as the Preventer’s downward blow was taken on the crosspiece of Josh’s knife, she leapt in, thrusting her own knife into the man’s side. The blade did not penetrate far but it drew blood and made him swing round, enabling Josh to plunge his own blade deeply into the shoulder of his sword arm, twisting to withdraw it, so causing blood to gush from the wound and the man to fall to the ground.

  A perceptible hiss – of admiration or hatred, it could have been either – rose from the men and they paused again. The men in the middle exchanged glances, nodded and then three of them ran forward, cudgels raised.

  For a split second, Joshua hesitated. What to do? The answer came quickly into his brain. Do the unexpected.

  He flung Rowena behind him, so strongly that she fell to the ground, and then, knife held out before him like a short sword, he ran directly at the man who was in the middle of the trio. This was unexpected and the Preventer halted and swung his cutlass horizontally at Josh’s head. It was a mistake, for it was easy to duck underneath the blade – he even had time to remember Cunningham’s cry of ‘use the point, use the point, don’t swing’ – and, bending low, he thrust the knife into the man’s thigh. Without stopping to measure the effect he turned to the man on his left and thrust his bloodstained blade into the exposed armpit as the man raised his cutlass. The man screamed and fell onto Josh’s shoulder, causing him to fall backwards, so missing the sword thrust of the last of the trio.