ROBIN COCKSCROFT
Nothing ever was allowed to stop Mrs. Anerley from seeing to the
bedrooms. She kept them airing for about three hours at this time of the
sun-stitch--as she called all the doings of the sun upon the sky--and
then there was pushing, and probing, and tossing, and pulling, and
thumping, and kneading of knuckles, till the rib of every feather was
aching; and then (like dough before the fire) every well-belabored tick
was left to yeast itself a while. Winnie, the maid, was as strong as a
post, and wore them all out in bed-making. Carroway heard the beginning
of this noise, but none of it meddled at all with his comfort; he lay
back nicely in a happy fit of chair, stretched his legs well upon a
bench, and nodded, keeping slow time with the breathings of his pipe,
and drawing a vapory dream of ease. He had fared many stony miles afoot
that morning; and feet, legs, and body were now less young than they
used to be once upon a time. Looking up sleepily, the captain had idea
of a pretty young face hanging over him, and a soft voice saying, “It
was me who did it all,” which was very good grammar in those days; “will
you forgive me? But I could not help it, and you must have been sorry to
shoot him.”
“Shoot every body who attempts to land,” the weary man ordered,
drowsily. “Mattie, once more, you are not to dust my pistols.”
“I could not be happy without telling you the truth,” the soft voice
continued, “because I told you such a dreadful story. And now--Oh! here
comes mother!”
“What has come over you this morning, child? You do the most
extraordinary things, and now you can not let the captain rest. Go round
and look for eggs this very moment. You will want to be playing fine
music next. Now, captain, I am at your service, if you please, unless
you feel too sleepy.”
“Mistress Anerley, I never felt more wide-awake in all my life. We of
the service must snatch a wink whenever we can, but with one eye open;
and it is not often that we see such charming sights.”
The farmer's wife having set the beds to “plump,” had stolen a look at
the glass, and put on her second-best Sunday cap, in honor of a real
officer; and she looked very nice indeed, especially when she received a
compliment. But she had seen too much of life to be disturbed thereby.
“Ah, Captain Carroway, what ways you have of getting on with simple
people, while you are laughing all the time at them! It comes of the
foreign war experience, going on so long that in the end we shall all
be foreigners. But one place there is that you never can conquer, nor
Boneypart himself, to my belief.”
“Ah, you mean Flamborough--Flamborough, yes! It is a nest of
cockatrices.”
“Captain, it is nothing of the sort. It is the most honest place in all
the world. A man may throw a guinea on the crossroads in the night, and
have it back from Dr. Upandown any time within seven years. You ought to
know by this time what they are, hard as it is to get among them.”
“I only know that they can shut their mouths; and the devil himself--I
beg your pardon, madam--Old Nick himself never could unscrew them.”
“You are right, Sir. I know their manner well. They are open as the sky
with one another, but close as the grave to all the world outside them,
and most of all to people of authority like you.”
“Mistress Anerley, you have just hit it. Not a word can I get out of
them. The name of the king--God bless him!--seems to have no weight
among them.”
“And you can not get at them, Sir, by any dint of money, or even by
living in the midst of them. The only way to do it is by kin of blood,
or marriage. And that is how I come to know more about them than almost
any body else outside. My master can scarcely win a word of them even,
kind as he is, and well-spoken; and neither might I, though my tongue
was tenfold, if it were not for Joan Cockscroft. But being Joan's
cousin, I am like one of themselves.”
“Cockscroft! Cockscroft? I have heard that name. Do they keep the
public-house there?”
The lieutenant was now on the scent of duty, and assumed his most
knowing air, the sole effect of which was to put every body upon guard
against him. For this was a man of no subtlety, but straightforward,
downright, and ready to believe; and his cleverest device was to seem to
disbelieve.
“The Cockscrofts keep no public-house,” Mrs. Anerley answered, with a
little flush of pride. “Why, she was half-niece to my own grandmother,
and never was beer in the family. Not that it would have been wrong, if
it was. Captain, you are thinking of Widow Precious, licensed to the Cod
with the hook in his gills. I should have thought, Sir, that you might
have known a little more of your neighbors having fallen below the path
of life by reason of bad bank-tokens. Banking came up in her parts like
dog-madness, as it might have done here, if our farmers were the fools
to handle their cash with gloves on. And Joan became robbed by the fault
of her trustees, the very best bakers in Scarborough, though Robin never
married her for it, thank God! Still it was very sad, and scarcely bears
describing of, and pulled them in the crook of this world's swing to
a lower pitch than if they had robbed the folk that robbed and ruined
them. And Robin so was driven to the fish again, which he always had
hankered after. It must have been before you heard of this coast,
captain, and before the long war was so hard on us, that every body
about these parts was to double his bags by banking, and no man was
right to pocket his own guineas, for fear of his own wife feeling them.
And bitterly such were paid out for their cowardice and swindling of
their own bosoms.”
“I have heard of it often, and it served them right. Master Anerley knew
where his money was safe, ma'am!”
“Neither Captain Robin Cockscroft nor his wife was in any way to blame,”
answered Mrs. Anerley. “I have framed my mind to tell you about them;
and I will do it truly, if I am not interrupted. Two hammers never yet
drove a nail straight, and I make a rule of silence when my betters wish
to talk.”
“Madam, you remind me of my own wife. She asks me a question, and she
will not let me answer.”
“That is the only way I know of getting on. Mistress Carroway must
understand you, captain. I was at the point of telling you how my
cousin Joan was married, before her money went, and when she was really
good-looking. I was quite a child, and ran along the shore to see it.
It must have been in the high summer-time, with the weather fit for
bathing, and the sea as smooth as a duck-pond. And Captain Robin, being
well-to-do, and established with every thing except a wife, and pleased
with the pretty smile and quiet ways of Joan--for he never had heard of
her money, mind--put his oar into the sea and rowed from Flamborough all
the way to Filey Brigg, with thirty-five fishermen after him; for the
Flamborough people make a point of seeing one another through their
troubles. And Robin was known for the handsomest man and the uttermost
fisher of the landing, with three boats of his own, and good birth, and
long sea-lines. And there at once they found my cousin Joan, with her
trustees, come overland, four wagons and a cart in all of them; and
after they were married, they burned sea-weed, having no fear in those
days of invasions. And a merry day they made of it, and rowed back by
the moonshine. For every one liked and respected Captain Cockscroft on
account of his skill with the deep-sea lines, and the openness of his
hands when full--a wonderful quiet and harmless man, as the manner is of
all great fishermen. They had bacon for breakfast whenever they liked,
and a guinea to lend to any body in distress.
“Then suddenly one morning, when his hair was growing gray and his eyes
getting weary of the night work, so that he said his young Robin must
grow big enough to learn all the secrets of the fishes, while his father
took a spell in the blankets, suddenly there came to them a shocking
piece of news. All his wife's bit of money, and his own as well, which
he had been putting by from year to year, was lost in a new-fangled
Bank, supposed as faithful as the Bible. Joan was very nearly crazed
about it; but Captain Cockscroft never heaved a sigh, though they say
it was nearly seven hundred guineas. 'There are fish enough still in the
sea,' he said; 'and the Lord has spared our children. I will build a new
boat, and not think of feather-beds.'
“Captain Carroway, he did so, and every body knows what befell him. The
new boat, built with his own hands, was called the Mercy Robin, for his
only son and daughter, little Mercy and poor Robin. The boat is there
as bright as ever, scarlet within and white outside; but the name is
painted off, because the little dears are in their graves. Two nicer
children were never seen, clever, and sprightly, and good to learn; they
never even took a common bird's nest, I have heard, but loved all the
little things the Lord has made, as if with a foreknowledge of going
early home to Him. Their father came back very tired one morning, and
went up the hill to his breakfast, and the children got into the boat
and pushed off, in imitation of their daddy. It came on to blow, as it
does down there, without a single whiff of warning; and when Robin awoke
for his middle-day meal, the bodies of his little ones were lying on the
table. And from that very day Captain Cockscroft and his wife began to
grow old very quickly. The boat was recovered without much damage; and
in it he sits by the hour on dry land, whenever there is no one on the
cliffs to see him, with his hands upon his lap, and his eyes upon the
place where his dear little children used to sit. Because he has always
taken whatever fell upon him gently; and of course that makes it ever so
much worse when he dwells upon the things that come inside of him.”
“Madam, you make me feel quite sorry for him,” the lieutenant exclaimed,
as she began to cry, “If even one of my little ones was drowned, I
declare to you, I can not tell what I should be like. And to lose them
all at once, and as his own wife perhaps would say, because he was
thinking of his breakfast! And when he had been robbed, and the world
all gone against him! Madam, it is a long time, thank God, since I heard
so sad a tale.”
“Now you would not, captain, I am sure you would not,” said Mistress
Anerley, getting up a smile, yet freshening his perception of a tear as
well--“you would never have the heart to destroy that poor old couple by
striking the last prop from under them. By the will of the Lord they are
broken down enough. They are quietly hobbling to their graves, and would
you be the man to come and knock them on their heads at once?”
“Mistress Anerley, have you ever heard that I am a brute and inhuman?
Madam, I have no less than seven children, and I hope to have fourteen.”
“I hope with all my heart you may. And you will deserve them all, for
promising so very kindly not to shoot poor Robin Lyth.”
“Robin Lyth! I never spoke of him, madam. He is outlawed, condemned,
with a fine reward upon him. We shot at him to-day; we shall shoot at
him again; and before very long we must hit him. Ma'am, it is my duty
to the king, the Constitution, the service I belong to, and the babes I
have begotten.”
“Blood-money poisons all innocent mouths, Sir, and breaks out for
generations. And for it you will have to take three lives--Robin's, the
captain's, and my dear old cousin Joan's.”
“Mistress Anerley, you deprive me of all satisfaction. It is just my
luck, when my duty was so plain, and would pay so well for doing of.”
“Listen now, captain. It is my opinion, and I am generally borne out by
the end, that instead of a hundred pounds for killing Robin Lyth, you
may get a thousand for preserving him alive. Do you know how he came
upon this coast, and how he has won his extraordinary name?”
“I have certainly heard rumors; scarcely any two alike. But I took no
heed of them. My duty was to catch him; and it mattered not a straw to
me who or what he was. But now I must really beg to know all about him,
and what makes you think such things of him. Why should that excellent
old couple hang upon him? and what can make him worth such a quantity
of money? Honestly, of course, I mean; honestly worth it, ma'am, without
any cheating of his Majesty.”
“Captain Carroway,” his hostess said, not without a little blush, as she
thought of the king and his revenue, “cheating of his Majesty is a thing
we leave for others. But if you wish to hear the story of that young
man, so far as known, which is not so even in Flamborough, you must
please to come on Sunday, Sir; for Sunday is the only day that I can
spare for clacking, as the common people say. I must be off now; I have
fifty things to see to. And on Sunday my master has his best things on,
and loves no better than to sit with his legs up, and a long clay pipe
lying on him down below his waist (or, to speak more correctly, where
it used to be, as he might, indeed, almost say the very same to me), and
then not to speak a word, but hear other folk tell stories, that might
not have made such a dinner as himself. And as for dinner, Sir, if
you will do the honor to dine with them that are no more than in the
Volunteers, a saddle of good mutton fit for the Body-Guards to ride
upon, the men with the skins around them all turned up, will be ready
just at one o'clock, if the parson lets us out.”
“My dear madam, I shall scarcely care to look at any slice of victuals
until one o'clock on Sunday, by reason of looking forward.”
After all, this was not such a gross exaggeration, Anerley Farm being
famous for its cheer; whereas the poor lieutenant, at the best of times,
had as much as he could do to make both ends meet; and his wife, though
a wonderful manager, could give him no better than coarse bread, and
almost coarser meat.
“And, Sir, if your good lady would oblige us also--”
“No, madam, no!” he cried, with vigorous decision, having found many
festive occasions spoiled by excess of loving vigilance; “we thank you
most truly; but I must say 'no.' She would jump at the chance; but a
husband must consider. You may have heard it mentioned that the Lord is
now considering about the production of an eighth little Carroway.”
“Captain, I have not, or I should not so have spoken. But with all my
heart I wish you joy.”
“I have pleasure, I assure you, in the prospect, Mistress Anerley. My
friends make wry faces, but I blow them away, 'Tush,' I say, 'tush, Sir;
at the rate we now are fighting, and exhausting all British material,
there can not be too many, Sir, of mettle such as mine!' What do you say
to that, madam?”
“Sir, I believe it is the Lord's own truth. And true it is also that our
country should do more to support the brave hearts that fight for it.”
Mrs. Anerley sighed, for she thought of her younger son, by his own
perversity launched into the thankless peril of fighting England's
battles. His death at any time might come home, if any kind person
should take the trouble even to send news of it; or he might lie at the
bottom of the sea unknown, even while they were talking. But Carroway
buttoned up his coat and marched, after a pleasant and kind farewell. In
the course of hard service he had seen much grief, and suffered plenty
of bitterness, and he knew that it is not the part of a man to multiply
any of his troubles but children. He went about his work, and he thought
of all his comforts, which need not have taken very long to count,
but he added to their score by not counting them, and by the self-same
process diminished that of troubles. And thus, upon the whole, he
deserved his Sunday dinner, and the tale of his hostess after it, not
a word of which Mary was allowed to hear, for some subtle reason of her
mother's. But the farmer heard it all, and kept interrupting so, when
his noddings and the joggings of his pipe allowed, or, perhaps one
should say, compelled him, that merely for the courtesy of saving common
time it is better now to set it down without them. Moreover, there are
many things well worthy of production which she did not produce, for
reasons which are now no hinderance. And the foremost of those reasons
is that the lady did not know the things; the second that she could not
tell them clearly as a man might; and the third, and best of all, that
if she could, she would not do so. In which she certainly was quite
right; for it would have become her very badly, as the cousin of Joan
Cockscroft (half removed, and upon the mother's side), and therefore
kindly received at Flamborough, and admitted into the inner circle, and
allowed to buy fish at wholesale prices, if she had turned round upon
all these benefits, and described all the holes to be found in the
place, for the teaching of a revenue officer.
Still, it must be clearly understood that the nature of the people is
fishing. They never were known to encourage free-trading, but did their
very utmost to protect themselves; and if they had produced the very
noblest free-trader, born before the time of Mr. Cobden, neither the
credit nor the blame was theirs.