by Summer Devon
“It appears James Gwalather was up to even more behind his partners’ backs. But don’t you think a man as old as that and with that misshapen hand would need help moving contraband? I wonder who else was part of his private endeavor,” Phillip mused as he carefully arranged his body around the rubble to lie down.
They’d settled near the place the ceiling had collapsed so they could keep an ear open for rescue—which Carne didn’t think would happen. If he had only a small time left, he didn’t want to spend it in panic or anger or worrying about air or pondering Gwalather’s business dealings.
He took up the bottle from the flat slab where Phillip put it and finished the last of the smooth, strong liquor. “Do you have regrets, Professor?”
Phillip pushed his dusty glasses up his nose. “Other than running into Mr. Mitchell yesterday?”
“Aye. Other than that.”
“If I get out, no. I have lived my life the best I know how and have enjoyed it far more than I’d expected I would. I was a rather miserable boy.” He sighed. “I regret… If we don’t have a future, I shall miss so much. I wish I could write my book. I wish I could travel with you and eventually stay with you. If you’d let me.”
“Stay with me? What?”
“In your cottage.”
“Haw, Professor, don’t be daft.”
“Very well, in another cottage, a larger one with bigger fireplaces and indoor plumbing. Or we might live on your boat. The Maggie.”
“The Magpie,” Carne corrected and decided he must be getting soused or suffering from a lack of air, because none of these ideas roused any sort of indignation, just a sweet yearning. “You’re a funny man to make such plans so fast.”
“You did ask,” Phillip pointed out. “It’s what I’d like to think about. Fantasy, I suppose one would call it.”
Carne realized he liked to think about it too. “You’d never fit Par Gwynear. And not just because of what we would do together.” His body seized with a sudden jolt of interesting arousal. How strange to feel it here and now—and that reminder of looming suffocation banished it. Carne went on, “I expect we’d have to go elsewhere. You and me together, what a thought. But I don’t mind. No, I don’t. I’m tired of ’em all. I would not miss a man, woman, nor child of them. I’m tired of worrying about everyone’s welfare.”
“I think you would miss them all. I got the impression you are quite fond of your village, Carne Treleaven, but maybe you need to stop thinking you’re responsible for solving their financial woes. If you lay down your mantle of leadership, someone else will pick it up. That’s the way life works. We believe we’re indispensible until we realize we’re not. When I stepped away from teaching, the university rolled along quite well without me.” Phillip shrugged. “Anyway, you’re wrong that I wouldn’t get along with the people of Par Gwynear. I’ve liked the people I’ve met so far.”
True enough. Perhaps Phillip would fit the place then, and it was Carne who didn’t want to any longer. “Bah. I’m done with them all.”
“Very well, you win. We shall compromise. And we shall travel as well. Part of the time in your home and part of the time in far-flung corners of the British Isles, gathering information for more travel books. And in London so I may show you the sights. Or Luxembourg. Or perhaps Spain. Or even the Far East.”
An image of them climbing some great snowcapped mountain together shone in his mind. Was it the drink or lack of air that hazed his vision and made that dream seem possible?
Carne smiled at Phillip. “All the places in the world, eh?” They gazed at each other, and Carne studied how the faint light gleamed on Phillip’s glasses and his white teeth—until, with a flicker and a flash, the light on his visor went out entirely.
Utter darkness fell like a weight, heavier than the rocks or the thickening air. A scream wanted to work its way past Carne’s teeth, but it came out as a strangled curse, too close to a sob. No point in trying to light the lamp on Phillip’s cap. It would only steal the air from their lungs faster. Now they must wait for the end in blackness.
“Bother, what a nuisance,” said Phillip, as calm as the ocean on a summer dawn. Something touched Carne’s arm, and he shuddered and cursed again.
“That’s only me, trying to find you in the dark,” Phillip said. “I’d say we should wait and allow our eyes to adjust, but I don’t expect our eyes will be able to catch any reflected light if there is none, eh? It’s rather like a camera, and, um, this word a colleague used, photoreceptor.”
“What…” Carne swallowed the bitter flavor of bile and French cognac and tried to concentrate on Phillip’s touch. He reached up and grabbed the hand resting on his arm and clutched it tight. “What the hell are you on about? What’s a photoreceptor?” Carne prayed he sounded as calm as Phillip.
“I wish I could draw you a picture to illustrate, but unfortunately that would be a waste of time at the moment, wouldn’t it?” Phillip actually laughed. And it sounded almost like real amusement. “Our eyes have receptors with light stimuli. Or so I’ve heard. It is certainly how cameras work. They capture the light and the absence of light. Without any light at all, a photo would be a square of purest black. And eyes use light much the same way, or so I’ve read.”
And off he went on the subject of cameras and vision and light and shadow. He moved on to the composition qualities of a good picture. Carne closed his eyes, not that it made any difference to what he beheld, and held on to that cultured, clipped, and polished voice.
“I say,” Phillip ended the lecture. “Do tell me to shut up if the sound of me going on and on annoys you. I can’t think of what else to do now. If I stop to think about our current situation, I grow rather anxious, sorry to say.”
“Ha. The sound of your voice is all that’s keeping me from jumping clean out of my skin,” Carne said. “Your hand and your voice. Please don’t let go.” Even to himself, he sounded like a quavering child rather than a man, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. What did such things matter now?
“No, of course not,” said Phillip, and there came the sound of pebble crunching against rock as he drew closer. Carne could feel the heat of him before the full weight of Phillip rested against his side, becoming the only real thing left in the world.
Chapter Twenty-one
Phillip gripped Carne’s hand and stared at nothing. With all light extinguished, there was no division between one thing and another. Interesting how sight convinced people there was a difference between rock and flower, water and fire, man and beast, when in actuality, all matter was formed from different rates of energy. This was a theory from the Orient Phillip had once read and believed made much sense.
He swallowed and blinked back tears as he realized very soon he might know whether that theory or some other was true. It seemed he and Carne were going to end this existence, clutching hands in the dark.
But no, it was too soon to give up. Phillip sat. “We should try again to move some rock. It seems no one is coming to help. If we should cause more of a cave-in, could it be any worse than simply sitting here waiting for the end?”
“You’re right, of course.” Carne let go of his hand and shifted beside him. “Best start at the top of the pile and work our way down.” More crunching followed, and Phillip guessed his friend was climbing to reach the top of the rocky pile.
They began to lift or roll away stone after stone. Phillip’s fingers were soon numb and cracked from scraping against rock. And a little after that, he felt wetness on his fingertips. He put them to his mouth and tasted blood and dirt. Dust filled his nose and parched his throat. The air, starved of oxygen, grew closer in the enclosed space, and he grew dizzy.
“Making some headway, I think.” Carne grunted and heaved an especially large boulder behind him, just missing Phillip.
Wishful thinking, Phillip believed, but he wouldn’t drain Carne’s enthusiasm. He’d hated to hear him sound so defeated. Now Carne seemed, if not confident of survival, then at least determi
ned not to go down without a fight.
Phillip stooped and moved a boulder of his own…and then he heard it. Sounds, no, voices on the far side of the rockfall.
“Do you hear that?” he asked Carne. “Someone is coming! Help! Hallo! We’re here!” he cried out, and Carne’s calls mingled with his.
Several muffled voices responded, their words unintelligible but the sound of excitement obvious.
“Mr. Mitchell went for help,” Phillip croaked. “I didn’t think he would.”
Carne’s low voice drifted to him. “Nor did I.”
“We’ll get you out,” someone bellowed from the other side, and the clang of metal hitting stone began.
“Careful. The support’s gone,” Carne yelled.
“Roger’s building a brace,” the voice called back.
A few words of encouragement sifted between the rocks like life-giving wisps of air. Phillip and Carne dug with renewed vigor, knowing that their rescuers did the same on the other side.
Perhaps it was the expending of so much energy that tipped Phillip over the edge. His dizziness went from mild to severe, and his brain grew cloudy just as he saw a glimmer of light from a lantern on the other side. And that was the last thing he knew until he awoke flat on his back in a different sort of darkness, the kind with stars overhead and a stiff breeze blowing across his face.
He blinked and looked up at the cluster of people gathered around him. Carne stood a head taller then the rest, his body blotting out the starry sky behind him. “…that’s how we came to be there,” he finished explaining.
Trennick’s head bobbed on his skinny neck. “Knew they was up to no good. Coming and going at odd times with nary a word to the rest of us.”
“Gwalather always was a sneaky bastard,” Roger Peters agreed. “He and his cronies go off on their own, grabbing for everything they can.”
Bea reached out to touch a cut on Carne’s forehead. “I can’t believe Mitchell younger would leave you to die. A cranky, bad-tempered lad he’s always been, but I wouldn’t have thought him a killer.”
Phillip sat up. “He said he was going for help. Didn’t he get you all?”
“He thought better of helping us get free so he could have Gwalather’s booty for himself. Robin here’s the one that brought help.” Carne squatted beside Phillip and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right now?”
Phillip nodded, then wished he hadn’t, as his head still ached. “Just got dizzy, I guess, but I’m better now I can breathe again. And here I thought you would be the one to pass out from being stuck in a tight spot.”
“What’ll we do with the goods?” Robin, the young man Phillip had promised a ride in his motorcar, spoke up. “By rights, they should be shared by the Concern. All spoils to be divided throughout the village is what we all agreed on.”
Carne looked up from his place by Phillip’s side. “Gwalather must have a dealer arranged for this lot. These items are too particular for our man in Penzance. And whatever foreigners delivered the cargo will be expecting their share from the deal.”
“We’ve no idea who his contact is, someone we already know from our own business or a stranger. We need more information,” Trennick muttered.
“Should we leave everything as is, like a trap, and wait and see who shows up?” Bea asked.
“Precisely that,” Phillip chimed in. “It’s the prudent move. Then it won’t be a matter of conjecture who all is involved.”
Trennick frowned down at him. “So the professor knows about our business now? What’ll we do about that? Can’t have him going to the authorities.”
Phillip shook his head again and found it less woozy. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. I never planned to bring attention to whatever free trading you all might engage in, and I must admit I guessed there was some going on. My only plan was exactly as I said, to gather stories of the past and photographs of the location for my book.”
“And to go on a treasure hunt,” Robin pointed out. “I want to see the map, but Carne said Mitchell’s got it.”
A thought occurred to Phillip. “Wait a moment. If Mitchell didn’t bring you all to rescue us, how did you know what had happened?”
“I could tell from the way Mitchell acted in the tavern that something was up,” Robin explained. “I followed you outside and trailed the three of you all the way to the old mine. You’d have heard me if I went in after you, and I had no lantern, so I waited outside. After a bit, Mitchell came out alone and left in a hurry. I guessed something was wrong and went to get help.”
“Thank God you did,” Phillip said. “Thank you for saving us.”
It was too dark to tell, but from the way the young man ducked his head, Phillip thought he blushed. “Glad to.” Robin got back to the more interesting matter at hand. “What about the other treasure? The old one? We should go back inside and look for it.”
“Guess the brandy we found was the last of it. That area is too dangerous to dig around in even if there is more. Right now, we need to decide how to deal with Gwalather and his loot.” Carne straightened and offered a hand to help Phillip to his feet.
Phillip clasped the rough hand he’d held in the dark while fearing he neared the end of his life. He didn’t want to let it go now, but could hardly cling in front of the villagers.
He reluctantly surrendered Carne’s hand and stood on his own, lightly rubbing his aching forehead. “Someone ought to keep watch here for Gwalather to return.”
Peters folded his arms and grunted. “I can do that.”
“I could get Constable Jacobs to come help,” Bea offered. “He’s as much a part of the Concern as any of us. Don’t we pay him a share to look the other way?”
“Jacobs may be in on this with Gwalather,” Carne said. “Someone smashed up Professor Singleton’s automobile and slashed the seats.”
Robin gasped audibly, then moaned.
Carne continued, “We told Jacobs, who didn’t seem to care. Professor Singleton figured out from tracks that Jacobs’s horse was used by whoever did the damage. I think our constable is involved with Gwalather. They’re old friends, after all.”
“Running guns under all our noses, and more loot on the side.” Bea shook her head. “You live around someone most of your life and don’t know ’em at all.”
Was it Phillip’s imagination, or did Bea cast a quick look at her former lover before she continued. “You two need to rest after all you’ve been through. Take the professor and go on home, Carne.”
“I should wait to confront Gwalather if he comes here tonight,” Carne protested. “If you could put Singleton to bed in the extra room above the tavern…”
“We can handle this. Me and Trennick,” Peters interrupted. “Don’t need you to manage us, Treleaven. And there be other men we can send for if we want more help. Go get some sleep. We’ll take the watch tonight.”
It was a sign of how exhausted Carne was that he didn’t argue or attempt to tell the men how to deal with Gwalather and his partner if they came. He quite docilely headed toward home. Phillip fell into a trance as he plodded at Carne’s side. A night of little sleep followed by a bracing day at sea and a perilous adventure in an abandoned mine added up to pure fatigue.
Phillip trudged along, unaware of his surroundings until he started from his stupor at the sight of the pale walls of the cottage gleaming in the starlight. Home at last, he thought with the surge of comfort one has upon entering one’s own domicile. How quickly he’d come to think of another man’s house as a place he belonged. It had little to do with four walls and a roof and everything to do with the owner of the cottage.
He followed Carne through the entry and waited just inside the door as he lit a lamp. When light illuminated the small room, they both stared aghast at the destruction.
Furniture had been tossed around, shelves swept clear of their contents, upholstery ripped open with stuffing hemorrhaging out like a gush of blood. Phillip’s other papers, the ones he hadn’t brought along wi
th him in his satchel, were strewn about the room, muddied by footprints or torn apart. But the greatest, most heartbreaking demolition was of Phillip’s camera. It had been taken from its case and thrown against the wall to shower down onto the floor in bits and pieces. The film plates he’d taken and carefully stored until they could be processed had not only been ruined by exposure to light but also shattered.
Phillip gave a soft cry, ran across the room, and dropped to his knees beside the camera. He cradled the large piece of its still-intact body as if it were a comrade wounded in battle. And, in a way, it was. The poor camera was a soldier lost in Phillip’s battle against smugglers, who suddenly seemed not at all the romantic figures of his imagination, but very real and very dangerous men.
A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up into the bearded face of the one smuggler he could place his trust in. Carne squeezed lightly and lowered himself to kneel beside Phillip. “I’m sorry. This is…” He gestured at the ruins of the mechanical device and shook his head. “I told you when I first saw you Par Gwynear could be a dangerous place. I wish you’d left that very day.”
Phillip blinked away tears and swallowed. “And miss all this adventure and everything else that happened during my visit? Never!”
“Ah, you madman. You’re too starry-eyed to survive in this world,” Carne murmured, then pulled Phillip against his chest and held him fast.
After several moments, Carne’s voice rumbled against Phillip’s ear. “I can’t let this stand. I must go find Gwalather, or whoever did this, and make him answer.”
Phillip pulled away and looked into fiery dark eyes. “Surely it makes no difference if you wait a few hours. Taking revenge while angry generally doesn’t end well. Let us lie down just until dawn. Rest and make a solid plan in the morning.”
Carne exhaled a sigh of annoyance. “I’d rather go smash a few heads together.”
“Their heads will be there come morning,” Phillip counseled. “Gwalather, if he’s the one responsible, will go nowhere without his loot, and the men are keeping watch over that.”