NOTICE TO QUIT.
We were now come to the time of year which all good Christians celebrate
by goodwill and festivities. Even I, in my humble way, had made some
preparation for this holy period by shooting Farmer Badcock's goose;
which had long been in my mind. Upon plucking, he turned out even whiter
and better than expectation, and the tender down clung to him, in a way
that showed his texture. I hung him up in a fine through-draught, and
rejoiced in the thought of him every time my head came in between his
legs. Neither did he fall away when he came to roasting.
But when I had put him down, upon the Christmas morning, with intent to
stick thereby, and baste him up to one o'clock, dipping bits of bread
beneath him, as he might begin to drip, and winning thus foretaste of
him--all my plans were overset by a merry party coming, and demanding
"ferry." With my lovely goose beginning just to spread his skin a
little, and hiss sweetly at the fire, up I ran, with resolution not to
ferry anybody, but to cook my goose aright.
Nevertheless it might not be so. Here were three young fellows ramping
of the high nobility, swearing to come aboard and stick me, if I would
not ferry them. It was not that I feared of this, but that I beheld a
guinea spinning in the morning sun, which compelled me to forego, and
leave my poor young goose to roll around, and try to roast himself.
Therefore I backed him from the fire, and laid half a pound of slow lard
on his breast, and trusted his honour to keep alive.
These young joyous fellows now were awake to everything. They had begun
the morning bravely with a cup of rum and lemon, then a tender grill of
beef, and a quart of creamy ale, every one accordingly. And they meant
to keep the day up to no less a pattern, being all of fine old birth,
and bound to act accordingly. However, it had been said by some one,
that they ought to go to church; and they happened to feel the strength
of this, and vowed that the devil should catch the hindmost, unless they
struck out for it.
Hence I came to win the pleasure of their company, that day. Their
nearest church was the little, simple, quiet old church at Ashford. From
my ferry I could see it; and it often made me sigh, because it looked so
tranquil. Sweet green land sloped up towards it, with a trace of crooked
footpaths, and the nicks of elbowed hedges, where the cows came down and
stood. Also from it, looking downward through the valley of the Tawe,
may be seen a spread of beauty, and of soft variety, and of largeness
opening larger with the many winding waters, to the ocean unbeheld, that
the sternest man must sigh, and look again and look again.
A genuine parson now was master of this queer old quiet church; a man
who gave his life entire for the good of other men. In a little hut he
lived, which the clerk's house overrode, just at the turning of the
lane, upon the steep ascent, and where the thunder-showers flooded it.
All the poor folk soon began to dwell upon his noble nature, and to feel
that here was some one fit to talk of Saviours. Miles around they came
to hear him, so that he was forced to stand on a stool in the porch, and
speak to them. For speaking it was, and not preaching; which made all
the difference.
These three gay young sparks leaped lightly into the bow of my
ferry-boat, and bade me pull for my very life, unless I desired to be
flung into the water then and there. A strong spring-tide was running
up, and I was forced to pull the starboard oar with all my might to keep
the course. My passengers were carrying on with every sort of quip and
crank, and jokes, that made the boat to tilt, when suddenly a rush of
water flooded their silk stockings. I thought at first that the bung
was out, and told them not to be frightened; but in another breath I saw
that it was a great deal worse than that. The water was rushing in
through a mighty hole in the planks of the larboard bow; and in three
minutes we must be swamped. "All aft, all aft in a moment!" I cried; "it
is our only chance of reaching shore." The gallants were sobered at once
by fright, and I bundled them into the stern-sheets, sat on the aftmost
thwart myself, and for the lives of us all pulled back towards the bank
we had lately quitted. By casting all the weight thus astern, I raised
the leak up to the water-line, except when we plunged to the lift of the
oars, and the water poured in less rapidly now, with the set of the tide
on our starboard beam. However, with all this, and all my speed, and my
passengers showing great presence of mind, we barely managed to touch
the bank and jump out, when down she foundered.
At first I was at a loss altogether even to guess how this thing had
happened; for the boat seemed perfectly sound and dry at the time of our
leaving the shore. But as soon as the tide was out, and I could get at
her, I perceived that a trick of entirely fiendish cunning and atrocity
had been played upon me. A piece of planking a foot in length and from
eight to ten inches wide had been cut out with a key-hole saw, at the
time she was lying high and dry, and doubtless before daybreak. This had
been then replaced most carefully with a little caulking, so that it was
water-tight without strong pressure from outside; but the villain had
contrived it, knowing in what state of tide I was likely next to work
the ferry, so that the rush of water could not fail to beat the piece
in.
It made my blood run cold to think of the stealthiness of this attempt,
as well as the skill it was compassed with, for the chances were ten to
one almost in favour of its drowning me, and leaving a bad name behind
me too, for having drowned my passengers. And to this it must have come
if so much as a single woman had been in the boat that day. For these,
when in danger, always do the very worst thing possible; and the manager
of this clever scheme knew of course that my freight was likely, on the
Christmas morning, to be chiefly female. Luckily I had refused two
boat-loads of young and attractive womankind, not from religious feeling
only, but because I had to chop a trencherful of stuffing.
This affair impressed me so with a sense of awe and reverence, and a
certainty that Parson Chowne must be in direct receipt of counsel from
the evil one, that my mind was good to be off at once, and thank the
Lord for escaping him. For let us see what must have happened but for
the goodness and fatherly care of a merciful Providence over me. The
boat would have sunk in the very midst of the rapid and icy river. David
Llewellyn, with his accustomed fortitude, would have endeavoured to swim
ashore, and yet could not have resisted the claims of three or even four
young women, who doubtless would have laid hold of him, all screaming,
splashing, and dragging him down. The mind refuses to contemplate such a
picture any longer!
This matter could not be kept quiet, as the first attempt had been, but
spread from house to house, and gained in size from each successive
tongue, until the man at the foot of the bridge, who naturally detested
me, whispered into every ear, that it was high time to have a care of
that interloping Welshman, who had drowned six fine young noblemen, for
the sake of their buckles and watches. And my courage was at so low an
ebb, that when he retreated into his house, I could not even bring my
mind to the power of kicking his door in. Hence that calumny, not being
quenched, went the round of the neighbourhood; and I might as well haul
down my sign, and the hopes of any public-house became a fading vision.
And of all the fine young women who had set their hearts upon keeping it
(as I described my intention to them), and who had picked up bits of
Welsh, for an access to my heart in all its patriotism, there was not
one worth looking at, or fit to be a landlady, who took the trouble to
come near me, in the frosty weather.
When a man is forsaken by the world, he must have recourse to reason.
And if only borne up thereby, and with a little cash in hand, he can
wait till the world comes round again. This was my position now. I never
had behaved so well in all my life before, I think; though always
conscientious. But of late I had felt, as it were, in one perpetual
round of bitter wrestling with the evil one. Men of a loose kind may not
see that this was tenfold hard upon me, from my props being knocked
away. I mean my entire trust and leaning upon the ancient Church of
England, which (perhaps by repulsion from those fellows that came after
our old ham, as well as our proper parson's knowledge of soles and the
way to fry them) had increased upon me so, that my heart leaped up
whenever I heard the swing of a bell on Sunday. Some of this perhaps
was owing to my thoughts of Newton clock, and twelve shillings now due
to me from my captainship thereof: but how could this loyal and
ecclesiastical fervour thrive, while a man in holy orders did such
unholy things to me?
The only one with faith enough, and sense enough, to stand by me now,
through this bitter trial, was that beautiful young lady, whom I did
admire so. And if till now I admired only, now I did adore her. Nanette
did for herself with me, and all her hopes of ever being Mrs David
Llewellyn, by poking up her little toes,--and I saw that they were all
square almost,--and with guttural noises crying that on board my boat
she would not dare. Miss Carey laughed at her, and stepped with her
beautiful boots on board of me; and from that moment she might do
exactly as she pleased with me.
However my ferry was knocked on the head; and all the hopes of a wife
and family, and even a public-house and skittles, which I had long been
building up, as well as to train our Bunny for barmaid; which must
always be done quite young, to get the proper style of it, and thorough
acquaintance with measures, how to make them look quite brim up when
they are only three-parts full. All golden dreams will vanish thus; no
life of smiling Boniface, but of gun-muzzles was before me; no
casting-up of shot by pence, but ramming down on pounds of powder. Let
that pass; my only wish is to conceal, in the strictest manner, little
trifles about myself.
Isabel Carey was so shocked at hearing of our danger (as by me
distinctly told without a word of flourish), that she made me promise
strongly to give up my ferrying. This I was becoming ready, more and
more every day, to do; especially as nobody ever now came down for
porterage. But I told the lady how hard it was to have formed such a
valuable trade, or you might say an institution; and then to lose it
all, because of certain private enmities. What she said or did hereon is
strictly a family question, and can in no way concern the public, since
I hauled my flag down.
And now I gained more insight into my great enemy's schemes and doings,
than I could have acquired while engaged so much at ferry. For time
allowed me to maintain that strict watch upon Narnton Court, which was
now become my duty, as well as an especial pleasure, for the following
reason. I began to see most clearly that the foul outrage upon my boat
must have been perpetrated by one or both of those savage fellows who
were employed as spies upon this great house, from the landward side.
They must have forded the river, which is not more than three feet deep
in places, when the tide is out, and no floods coming down. These two
cunning barbarians came of course from the Nympton rookery, but were
lodging for the present in a hole they had scooped for themselves in the
loneliest part of Braunton Burrows. Of course they durst not go about in
a peopled and civilised neighbourhood, with such an absence of apparel
as they could indulge at home. Still they were unsightly objects; and
decent people gave them a wide berth, when possible. But my firm
intention was to grapple with these savage scoundrels, and to prove at
their expense what a civilised Welshman is, and how capable of asserting
his commercial privileges. Only as they carried knives, I durst not meet
them both at once; and even should I catch them singly, some care was
advisable, so as take them off their guard; because I would not lower
myself to the use of anything more barbarous than an honest cudgel.
However, although I watched and waited, and caught sight of them more
than once, especially at night-time when they roved most freely, it was
long before I found it prudent to bear down on the enemy. Not from any
fear of them, but for fear of slaying them, as I might be forced to do,
if they rushed with steel at me.
One night, after the turn of the days, and with mild weather now
prevailing, and a sense of spring already fluttering in the valleys, I
sat in a dark embrasure at the end of Narnton Court. There had been more
light than usual in the windows of the great dining-room, which now was
very seldom used for hospitable purposes. And now two gentlemen came
forth, as if for a little air, to take a turn on the river-terrace. It
did not cost me long to learn that one was good Sir Philip Bampfylde,
and the other that very wicked Chowne. The latter had manifestly been
telling some of his choicest stories, and held the upper hand as usual.
"General, take my arm. The flags are rough, and the night is of the
darkest. You must gravel this terrace, for the sake of your guests,
after your port-wine."
"Dick," said the General, with a sigh, for he was a most hospitable man,
and accustomed to the army; "Dick, thou hast hardly touched my port; and
I like not to have it slighted, sir."
What excuse the Parson made I did not hear, but knew already that one of
his countless villanies was his rude contempt of the gift of God, as
vouchsafed to Noah, and confirmed by the very first rainbow, which
continues the colours thereof up to this time of writing.
Sir Philip leaned on the parapet some twenty yards to windward of me,
and he sniffed the fine fresh smell of sea-weed and sea-water coming up
the river with a movement of four knots an hour. And in his heart he
thanked the Lord, very likely without knowing it. Then he seemed to sigh
a little, and to turn to Chowne, and say--
"Dick, this is not as it should be. Look at all this place, and up and
down all this length of river; every light you can see burning, is in a
house that 'longs to me. And who is now to have it all? It used to make
me proud; but now it makes me very humble. You are a parson; tell me,
Dick, what have I done to deserve it all?"
The Rev. Richard Stoyle Chowne had not--whatever his other vices
were--one grain of pious hypocrisy in all his foul composition. If he
had, he might have flourished, and with his native power, must have been
one of the foremost men of this, or any other age. But his pride allowed
him never to let in pretence religious into the texture of his ways. A
worse man need not be desired: and yet he did abhor all cant, to such a
degree that he made a mock of his own church-services.
"General, I have nought to say. You have asked this question more than
once. You know what my opinion is."
"I know that you have the confidence, sir, every honourable man must
have, in my poor son's innocence. You support it against every one."
"Against all the world: against even you, when you allow yourself to
doubt it. Tush! I would not twice think of it. However many candles
burn"--this was a touch of his nasty sarcasm, which he never could deny
himself--"up and down the valley, General, no son of yours, however
wild, and troubled in expenditure, could ever shape or even dream of
anything dishonourable."
"I hope not--I hope to God, not," Sir Philip said, with a little gasp,
as if he were fearing otherwise: "Dick, you are my godson, and you have
been the greatest comfort to me; because you never would believe----"
"Not another word, General. You must not dwell on this matter so. The
children were fine little dears of course, very clever and very
precious----"
"Oh, if you only knew the words, Dick, my little granddaughter could
come out with! Scarcely anything you could think of would have been too
big for her little mouth. And if she could not do it once, she never
left it till she did. Where it came from I could not tell, for we are
not great at languages: but it must have been of her mother's race. And
the boy, though not with gifts of that sort--oh, you ought to have seen
his legs, Dick--at least till he took the whooping-cough!" The stately
old gentleman leaned, and dropped a tear perhaps into the river Tawe.
"General, I understand it all," said Chowne, though he never had a
child, by reason of the Almighty's mercy to the next generation: "of
course these pretty children were a great delight to every one. But
affairs of this sort happen in all ancient families. The mere extent of
land appears to open for clandestine graves----"
"That wicked devilish story, Dick! Did you tell me, or did you not, to
take it as the Fiend's own lie?"
"A lie, of course, as concerns the Captain: from their want of
knowledge. But concerning some one else, true enough, I fear, I fear."
Both men had by this time very nearly said their say throughout. The
General seemed to be overcome, and the Parson to be growing weary of a
subject often treated in discourse between them. "Before you go in the
morning, Dick," said the old man, now recovering, "I wish to consult you
about a matter nearly concerning young Isabel. She is a distant cousin
of yours. You thoroughly understand the law, of which I have very little
knowledge. Perhaps you will meet me in the book-room, for half an hour's
quiet talk, before we go to breakfast."
"I cannot do it, Sir Philip. I have my own affairs to see to: I must be
off when the moon is up. I cannot sleep in your house, this night."