Two more years passed away--Nelly had become a pretty young woman,
modest and good as she was attractive in her personal appearance. She
had admirers in plenty besides Eban Cowan, who continued, as in his
younger days, to pay her all the attention in his power, and openly
declared to his companions his purpose of making her his wife.
By this means he kept some at a distance who were afraid to encounter
him as a rival, for they well knew his fierce and determined
disposition, of which he had on several occasions given evidence. Every
one knew that he and his father were leagued with the most desperate
gang of smugglers on the coast, and two or three times when acting as
leader of a party he had had fierce encounters with the coast-guard, and
on each occasion by his judgment and courage had succeeded in carrying
off the goods which had been landed to a place of safety He frequently
also had made trips in a smuggling lugger, of which his father was part
owner, to the coast of France. He was looked upon as a hardy and expert
seaman, as well as a good fisherman. Had he, indeed, kept to the latter
calling, with the boats he owned he would have become an independent, if
not a wealthy man. But ill-gotten gains go fast, and in his smuggling
enterprises, though he was often successful, yet he lost in the end more
than he gained.
Nelly, though flattered by the attention paid her, showed no preference
for any of her admirers. She had a good-natured word or a joke for all
of them, but always managed to make them hold their tongues when they
appeared to be growing serious. How she might have acted without the
sage Dame Lanreath to advise her, or had she not felt that she could not
consent to desert her and Michael, it is impossible to say.
Michael had become a fine and active young man. As a sailor he was not
inferior to Eban. He had been able to support Nelly and her grandmother
in comfort, and to save money besides. He had invested his profits in a
share of Uncle Reuben's large fishing-boat, and was thus able to employ
himself in the deep-sea seine fishing for the greater part of the year,
as well as that of the inshore fishing which he had hitherto pursued.
His only regret was that it compelled him to be absent from home more
frequently and for longer periods, but then he had always the advantage
of returning to spend every Sunday with Nelly.
Those Sundays were indeed very happy ones; he did not spend them in idle
sloth, but he and Nelly, accompanied by her grandmother, set off early
to worship together, never allowing either wind or rain to hinder them,
although they had several miles to go. On their return they spent the
remainder of the day in reading God's Word, or one of the few cherished
books they possessed. They had received some time back two or three
which were especially favoured, sent by Mrs and Miss Tremayne, with a
kind message inquiring after Michael and Dame Lanreath, and hoping that
the "Dove" had answered Michael's expectations and proved a good and
useful sea-boat. Nelly undertook to write a reply.
"That she has, tell them," said Michael. "I often think, when I am at
work on board her, of their kindness, and what I should have done had
they and Mr Tremayne not given her to me."
After this, however, they received no further news of their friends, and
though Nelly wrote to inquire, her letter was returned by the
post-office, stating that they had left the place.
Refreshed by his Sunday rest, Michael went with renewed strength to his
weekly toil.
Uncle Reuben's boat was called the "Sea-Gull." Michael was now
constantly on board her, as he had from his prudence and skill been
chosen as mate. When Reuben himself did not go out in her, he had the
command.
The merry month of May had begun, the "Sea-Gull" was away with her
drift-nets. Reuben hoped to be among the first to send fish to the
Helston market. Dame Lanreath and Nelly, as well as several other
female members of Reuben's family, or related to his crew, were ready to
set off with their creels as soon as the boat returned.
Nelly had gone as far as Uncle Reuben's house to watch for the
"Sea-Gull." She had not long to wait before she caught sight of the
little vessel skimming over the waters before a light nor'-westerly
breeze. It was the morning of the eighth of May, when the annual
festival of the Flurry was to be held at Helston.
Although Nelly did not wish to take part in the sports carried on there,
still she had no objection to see what was going forward, and perhaps
Michael, contrary to his custom, would be willing to accompany her and
her granny.
"He so seldom takes a holiday; but for this once he may be tempted to go
and see the fun," she thought.
The "Sea-Gull" drew near, and Nelly knew her appearance too well to have
any doubt about her, even when she was a long way off.
She now hurried home to tell Dame Lanreath, that they might be ready at
the landing-place to receive their portion of the vessel's cargo.
The vessel was soon moored alongside the quay, when the creels were
quickly filled with fish.
"If you will come with us to Helston, Michael, I will wait for you.
Granny will go on ahead and we can soon overtake her. Though you have
lived so near you have never seen a Flurry dance, and on this bright
morning there will sure to be a good gathering."
"I care little for seeing fine folks dressed up in gay flowers and white
dresses, and dancing and jigging, especially as neither you nor I can
take a part in the fun," answered Michael. "I should like the walk well
enough with you, Nelly, but a number of congers and dog-fish got foul of
our nets and made some ugly holes in them, which will take us all day to
mend; it is a wonder they did not do more mischief. So, as I always put
business before pleasure, you see, Nelly, I must not go, however much I
might wish it."
Nelly thought that David and others might mend the nets; but Michael
said that he and all hands were required to do the work, and that if he
did not stop and set a good example the others might be idle, and when
he got back in the evening it might not be done. So Nelly, very
unwillingly, was obliged to give up her scheme of inducing Michael to
take a holiday, and accompanied her granny as usual.
Having left Michael's breakfast ready on the table, they set off. The
dame trudged along, staff in hand; her step was as firm as it had been
ten years before, though her body was slightly bent. Nelly walked by
her side, as she had done year after year, but she now bore her burden
with greater ease; and with her upright figure, and her cheeks blooming
with health, the two together presented a perfect picture of a fish-wife
and fish-girl.
Dame Lanreath had promised, after they had sold the contents of their
creels, to wait some little time to see the Flurry dance and the gay
people who would throng the town. Nelly looked forward to the scene
with pleasure, her only regret being that Michael had been unable to
accompany her.
They had gone some distance when they heard a rapid step behind them,
and Eban Cowan came up to Nelly's side.
"I have been walking hard to overtake you, Nelly," he said, "for I found
that you had gone on. I suppose you intend to stay and see the gay
doings at Helston, and will not object to an escort back in the
evening?"
"Granny proposes stopping for the Flurry dance, but we shall come away
long before it is dark, and as we know the road as well as most people,
we can find it by ourselves," answered Nelly, coldly.
"You will miss half the fun, then," said Eban. "You must get your
granny to stop, or, if she will not, she cannot mind your remaining with
my sister and cousin, and I can see you and them home."
"I cannot let my granny walk home by herself," answered Nelly; "and so,
Eban, I beg that you will not say anything more about the matter."
Eban saw that it would not do just then to press the subject, and he
hoped that perhaps Nelly would lose sight of her grandmother in the
crowd, and that she would then be too glad to come back under his
charge. He had made up his mind to have a talk with her, and bring
matters to an issue; he did not suppose that she and Michael could care
much for each other, or he thought that they would have married long
ago, and so believed that he had a better chance than any one else of
winning Nelly Trefusis.
He walked on, trying to make himself agreeable now saying a few words to
the dame, who generally gave him curt answers, and now addressing Nelly.
As he had plenty to say for himself, she could not help being amused,
and his conversation served to beguile the way over the somewhat dreary
country they had to pass till the neighbourhood of Helston was reached.
He accompanied them in the ferry-boat which took them across to the town
on the other side of the shallow estuary or lake on which it is built.
As they had now to go from house to house to sell their fish, he had to
leave them, believing, however, that he should have no difficulty in
finding them again when their creels were empty.
The town was at that time quiet enough, for all the shops were closed,
and most of the young men and maidens, as well as large parties of
children, had gone into the surrounding woods to cut boughs and gather
wild flowers.
The housewives, however, were eager to purchase their fresh-caught
pilchards, to make into huge pasties, which, with clotted cream, forms
the favourite Cornish dish.
They had already disposed of a considerable portion of their freight,
when they saw a large party approaching along the principal
thoroughfare. It consisted of a number of young people, boys and girls,
their heads decked with wreaths of flowers, and holding in their hands
green boughs, which they waved to and fro as they advanced, singing--
"Once more the merry month of May
Has come, and driven old winter away;
And so as now green boughs we bring,
We merrily dance and merrily sing.
No more we dread the frost and snow,
No more the winter breezes blow;
But summer suns and azure skies
Warm our hearts and please our eyes.
And so we dance and so we sing,
And here our woodland trophies bring;
Hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra!
What can with our Flurry dance compare?"
Thus the merry party went dancing and singing through the town, every
one running out from their houses to greet and applaud them.
A large number of carriages and vehicles of all sorts now appeared,
conveying the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who came in
summer attire, decked with spring flowers, preceded by a band of music.
They all assembled before the Town Hall, when the Flurry dance
commenced. Rows of ladies and gentlemen formed opposite each other,
then, moving forward, they set to each other in couples, and proceeded
thus, dancing and singing, down the streets. Garden-gates stood open,
and many of the doors of the larger houses. Through them the dancers
entered, continuing their evolutions up and down the gravel walks and
through the halls, all ranks and classes mingling together. All seemed
in good humour; in spite of the exercise they were taking, none appeared
fatigued or willing to stop.
The Flurry tune which was played is a peculiar one, evidently of great
antiquity, and probably the custom had its origin as far back as the
feast of Flora, when pagan rites were performed in the country, or,
perhaps, it originally was instituted to celebrate a victory over the
Saxons; or it may be a remnant of some old Celtic observance.
Few of those who took part in it cared much about its origin. The young
people enjoyed the amusement of dancing and singing, and their elders
their holiday and relaxation from business.
Dame Lanreath and Nelly had disposed of all their fish before the Flurry
dance began; they thus had ample time to watch what was going forward,
Nelly kept close to her grandmother, although she met several of her
acquaintances, who stopped to have a talk, and she might easily, had she
not been on the watch, have lost her in the crowd.
In the evening the grander people were to have a ball at the Town Hall;
but as the dame and Nelly took no interest in watching the ladies in
their gay dresses stepping from their carriages, they, having seen
enough of the Flurry dance to satisfy their curiosity, set out in
company with several of their friends on their walk homeward.
They were just leaving the town, when Eban Cowan overtook Nelly, who was
in company with another girl a short distance behind Dame Lanreath.
"Nelly," said Eban, "I was in a great fright lest I should miss you.
You are going away without seeing half the fun of the day; the people
are only just getting into the spirit of the dance. I wanted you to
take off that creel and have a turn with me. Among all the fine ladies
there is not one can compare with you for beauty in my eyes, and many a
lad there would have been jealous of me, in spite of the white dresses
and bright flowers of the girls."
Nelly laughed, thinking that Eban was joking. Her companion, who
believed the common report, that Eban Cowan was an admirer of Nelly
Trefusis, and that she encouraged him, dropped behind and joined another
party, and Eban and Nelly were left alone.
He at once changed his tone, which showed that he was deeply in earnest.
"Nelly," he said, "I have sought you for long years, and however others
may admire you, they cannot care for you as I do--my love surpasses
theirs a hundredfold. I can give you a comfortable home, and make you
equal to any of the fine ladies we have been watching to-day. You need
no longer carry that creel on your back, and slave as you have been
doing, if you will become my wife. I tell you that I love you more than
life itself, and ask you, will you marry me?"
Nelly would willingly have stopped Eban from talking on, but had
hitherto been unable to get in a word.
"I have known you, Eban Cowan, since I way a girl, but I have never for
one moment encouraged you to suppose that I would become your wife, and
I now say positively that I cannot and will not. I thank you for all
you have said to me, though I would rather you had left it unsaid; and I
would wish to be friendly, as we have always been," she answered,
firmly.
"Is that the only answer you can give me?" exclaimed Eban.
"I can give no other," replied Nelly.
"Do you never intend to marry, then?" asked Eban.
"I am not compelled to tell you my intentions," said Nelly.
"Do you love any one else? because I shall then know how to act,"
exclaimed Eban.
Nelly thought for a moment. "I will tell him; it will be the kindest
thing to do, as he will then understand that I can never marry him, and
wisely seek another wife."
"Yes, Eban Cowan, I do love another," she said, in a low voice. "I love
Michael Penguyne, and can be no other man's wife than his. You have
long called him your friend; let him be your friend still, but give up
all thoughts of me."
"I now know how to act," muttered Eban, gloomily. "I had no idea that
you cared for him; and if you choose to become a poor fisherman's wife,
you must follow your own course; only, do not suppose that I can cease
to love you."
"I cannot listen to what you say," exclaimed Nelly, walking on rapidly,
and feeling very indignant at Eban's last remark.
He did not attempt to follow her, and she soon overtook Dame Lanreath
and the friends who were accompanying her. When she looked round, Eban
had disappeared. She felt greatly relieved at having got rid of him,
and she hoped that, notwithstanding what he had said, he would abandon
all hopes of becoming her husband.
Eban went home by another path, muttering fiercely that he would not be
balked, and that Michael should pay dearly for coming between him and
the girl he loved.
People little know, when they give way to their unbridled passions, into
what crimes they may be led.
Day after day Eban Cowan pondered over his rejection by Nelly, and chose
to consider himself especially ill-treated.
"She should have let me know years ago that she intended to marry that
fellow. How can she think of preferring him, a poor, hard-working lad,
to me?" he exclaimed; and dreadful thoughts came into his mind. He made
no attempt to drive them from him.