few stunted trees, twisted and turning from the west; and by the
roadside is to be seen a tall granite cross, once a burial monument of a
British chief, and bearing an inscription that was cut into and rendered
illegible in medieval times, when the upright stone was converted into a
wayside cross.
As the waggon halted before this little tavern, Joyce saw Herring's eyes
open. He raised his arms and waved them in an unmeaning manner; then,
looking intently upwards, as though he saw something far above him in
the depths of the blue sky, he drew a deep sigh and murmured 'Mirelle!'
Then his eyes closed again, and his hands dropped.
'Right, right, maister!' said Joyce; 'it be the Whiteface you want and
would seek. But why do'y look up there? Her be on earth, not in heaven.
I be a nursing of'y, none for Joyce, nor for Miss Cicely, but for her
you cries after and looks for up above.'
At Okehampton they met with no interruption, and were surrounded by no
throng of inquisitive persons, and the reason was this. The parson of a
neighbouring moorland parish had been summoned that day before the
magistrates, on a charge of maltreating and starving a poor boy in his
house, his wife's son by a former husband. The magistrates dismissed
him with a reprimand and a caution; but the people were not disposed to
treat the matter so lightly and the man so leniently. All the fluid
portion of the populace had flowed out on the moor road after the
retiring parson, with hoots, and clots of earth, and expressions of
aversion. The rabble manifested an intimate acquaintance with his
domestic arrangements, and taunted him with them. If the reverend
gentleman could have commanded his temper, he might have speedily tired
out his pursuers; but this he was unable to do, and unwise enough not to
attempt. He was a remarkably ugly man, ill-made, short in leg and long
in arm, with large hands and feet, and a lace with low brow and
protruding jaws. He became mad with rage and humiliation, and turned
savagely, whenever the crowd ventured near his heels, to charge them
with his green gingham umbrella, and smite them furiously, uttering
unclerical exclamations of abuse and contempt. His face was simian in
its ugliness and malignity. The whalebones of his umbrella were
dislocated, and the wires protruded. One boy was cut with the iron, and
when this was perceived there rose a howl of indignation, and a
moorstone whizzed through the air and knocked the parson's hat off his
head. He was a poor man, and the injury done to his best hat and to his
umbrella was more than he could endure. He ran as fast as his short
legs could fly over the ground, and took refuge in a cottage, the door
of which he barred; and then, escaping up the rude stair, he spat at his
pursuers from the window.
Parson-baiting is not an every-day treat, and the luxury had emptied the
streets of Okehampton. Consequently the waggon passed through almost
unnoticed.
As the waggon crossed the bridge over the Taw, it encountered the two
chaises with the party of serious speculators returning from Ophir.
They had slept at Zeal. Mr. Flamank, as a director of the mine, had
felt it incumbent on him to make a complete investigation into the
method of working, and into the accounts. The men engaged on the mine
had been examined by him, and he had overhauled the books in the office.
Among these he had discovered a private book of the Tramplaras, which
contained a register of the amount of gold expended in the salting, and
the amount recovered after the washing. Those serious men whom the
Reverend Israel had taken with him, in the hopes of inducing them to
sink capital in Ophir, assisted him zealously in the detection of the
imposture.
The transaction was humiliating to the little man, but he was a
thoroughly conscientious person, and he did not shrink from that which
he felt it was at once his duty and his interest to do, however galling
it might be to his self-esteem. He carried away the books with him, and
dismissed the workmen, warning them that they would be required to give
evidence in the trial of the Tramplaras, which, as he supposed, would
inevitably follow.
'I have been considering,' said Israel Flamank to those with him in the
same carriage, 'that I have been very blind. Last night I was unable to
sleep, and so I turned prophecy over in my head, and I saw clearly, at
last, that the whole affair had been foretold. The name Trampleasure,
if rightly estimated--that is, with a certain value given to each
letter, and the capital letter _T_ being reckoned as double a small _t_,
and the _ea_ in pleasure being turned into an _i_, Tramplisure instead
of Trampleasure, which is the way in which some persons would pronounce
the name, and the _e_ at the end of the name omitted as a mute--I say,
thus valued, the name makes, when summed up, exactly six hundred and
sixty-six, which is the number of the Beast, and which is also, we are
distinctly told, the number of a man's name. Now this, I take it, is a
very significant fact. The Beast, we are further informed, would
deceive the very elect; and what else are we, I ask, but the very
elect?'
'That is true,' responded all those in the chaise, and shook their heads
affirmatively.
'And he spake great swelling words,' went on the Reverend Israel. 'Now
old Mr. Trampleasure had a certain pomposity of manner about him that
exactly tallies with the description given by the inspired penman.'
'Very true,' answered the carriage-load, and the heads all shook
together again.
'It is remarkable also,' continued the minister, 'that in the sacred
text the Beast Trampleasure is associated with the Woman, Babylon--that
is, with Rome. For Babylon is Rome, as every schoolboy knows,
ethnographically, entomologically, and enterically. Now, I ask you, is
not a young Roman Catholic lady staying in Dolbeare with the family, and
is not Miss Trampleasure about to be, or already, married to a Roman
Catholic gentleman?'
'To be sure,' responded those in the chaise, and shook their heads
knowingly.
'And, remember, the seer of Patmos saw two Beasts, and the little one
derived his power from the elder, which was wounded, though not to
death. That wound I take to be the failure of Polpluggan, from which
old Trampleasure recovered. As to the little Beast, there can be no
question about him--Sampson Trampleasure, junior.'
'That is certain!' exclaimed the chorus, and all the heads shook to the
left.
'But, good heavens, what have we here!' cried Mr. Flamank.
The carriage stopped.
'What's the matter there?' inquired the driver of the chaise, as he drew
up.
'Why, bless me!' said the minister, starting to his feet. 'As sure as I
am alive that is Mr. John Herring. Stay, young man,' he called to the
waggoner. 'How comes the gentleman in such a plight? Girl,' to Joyce,
'where did you find him? Is he alive? Is he badly hurt? How came this
about?'
The little man jumped out of the carriage in a fever of excitement, and
pity, and alarm. Joyce gave him no information, but he picked up
something from the boy who drove, and learned that, in some way or
other, Sampson Tramplara was involved.
'Bless my soul!' exclaimed Mr. Flamank. 'One cannot be too thankful for
mercies. Actually John Herring made me--me run after this cut-throat
murderer--and yet I remain unhurt; whereas John Herring, who takes up
the chase, is killed. A really startling interposition of Providence.'
'He be not dead,' said Joyce, fiercely; 'I shan't let 'n die, I shan't.'
Then the waggon, moved on.
'Where be West Wyke to?' asked the driver.
'I'll tell'y where to stop,' answered Joyce. 'Go right on till I shout
Wo!'
She allowed him to proceed past the turning over the turf leading to
West Wyke, and then she suddenly gave the signal to halt.
'The road over the moor be too bad to travel wi' wheels,' said Joyce.
'You bide here, and I will fetch vaither, and he'll carry the maister
home, along of I.'
Joyce was not long gone before she returned with old Cobbledick,
carrying a hurdle. With the carter's help, Herring was lifted on to it;
and then Joyce and her father departed over the moor, without another
word to the man, conveying Herring between them.
'They be rum folk in these parts,' said Jim White, the waggoner, 'not to
offer a fellow a glass of cyder, and the hosses all of a lather with the
journey.'
*CHAPTER XXXII*
*DESTITUTE.*
Mr. Trampleasure's death, through the bursting of a blood-vessel on the
brain, and the escape of Sampson, left the three women at Dolbeare
without a head. Captain Trecarrel did not appear, except to make a
formal call of condolence, or to offer his services in a manner that
implied that this offer was not to be accepted.
'Lucky dog that I am,' said he to himself; 'saved at the last moment in
a manner melodramatic. There is a sweet little cherub that sits up
aloft, and takes care of the fate of Trecarrel. By George! suppose I
had been noosed and turned off before this terrible scandal came out,
what should I have done? Now there lies before me one clear course of
action. There is an opera company at this time performing in Exeter,
and I am fond of music. I must positively go to the faithful city[1] by
the next coach, and not return till the clouds have cleared somewhat.
But before I go, there is one duty I must perform. I must let the
directors of Ophir know of old Trampleasure's five thousand pounds
lodged in the hands of John Herring.'
[1] The motto of Exeter is 'Semper fidelis.'
It is needless to say that the marriage had not taken place. It is
needless also to say that Trecarrel did depart to Exeter to hear the
opera company. It is also needless to say that he thoroughly enjoyed
himself, liked the music, caught some of the airs, ate, drank, and
smoked, and blessed his stars every day that he was a free man. He not
only blessed his luck, but he flattered himself that he had extricated
himself by his own shrewdness. 'And now,' said he, 'here am I in Exeter,
enjoying myself. Had I remained at Trecarrel, I must have gone to bed,
and one may have too much even of a good thing.'
The affairs of the Ophir Gold Company were wound up. All the directors
met, except Arundell Golitho, of Trevorgan, Esquire, who did not appear.
But that was hardly wonderful, as no one knew who Arundell Golitho, Esq.
was, and as the letter addressed to him, stating the circumstances of
the company, the death of Mr. Trampleasure, and the disappearance of Mr.
Sampson with the funds of the company, was returned unopened. The
post-office was unable to discover Trevorgan. When the affairs were
wound up, it was discovered that there were liabilities, but no assets
except the five thousand pounds held by Mr. Herring. The shareholders
had lost everything they had embarked in the concern, except what little
would come to them out of the five thousand pounds after the liabilities
had been discharged, and the lawyers had sweated the little sum to a
cipher.
Then it was that the Reverend Israel Flamank's character shone out. The
man's vanity had received a crushing blow, he would never entirely
recover from the ridicule that descended on him for his discovery of
Ophir. He had lost his small capital sunk in the mine. He alone,
however, had thought and compassion at this juncture for the orphan and
the widow. He found that Orange and her mother were left absolutely
destitute. The five thousand pounds known to be in Herring's hands
would be absorbed and dissipated, and the furniture of Dolbeare sold.
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, left, on which Mrs. Trampleasure
and her daughter and Mirelle could live; for old Trampleasure had thrown
Mirelle's money into the same venture, and it was gone past recovery.
Mr. Flamank exerted his powers of persuasion on the directors to induce
them to propose to the shareholders a surrender of a small portion of
the money that they were able to lay their hands on, for the maintenance
of the widow and her daughter. But none are so remorseless as pious
persons touched in pocket. He pleaded to deaf ears. The liabilities of
the mine were considerable, and would eat into the little fund. The
men's wages were in arrear. The builders had received only a trifle on
account for the sheds they had erected. The company owed for the
water-wheel, for the drum, for the stamping-mill, for the cradles, the
buddles, and the whips and the whims. Nothing, in short, had been paid
for. As for the receipts, they were nil, for nothing had been got out of
Ophir but what had been put in. Old Tramplara, it was supposed, had
sunk his own money in the concern, at least it appeared so; for he had
drawn everything out of the bank, had sold all his investments except
the Patagonians which were unsaleable. The gold employed in salting the
mine had undoubtedly consumed a great deal, and what remained had gone,
with the shareholders' money, into the pocket of Mr. Sampson. It was
fortunate that only the first call had been made on the shareholders,
and that few of the shares were fully paid up. Nevertheless the loss
was considerable, so considerable as to sour the sincerest Christian
among them, and make them indifferent to the woes of the arch
scoundrel's widow and daughter.
When Mr. Flamank found that nothing was to be saved out of the wreck for
the Trampleasures, he went about collecting contributions for them. But
his credit was suffering eclipse, and exasperation against Tramplara too
great for him to do much. He was unable to get together more than fifty
pounds, given grudgingly, and not obtained without great personal effort
and the endurance of many humiliations.
The five thousand pounds lodged with John Herring lay in the bank in his
name. It was the only sum standing to his account. But when Herring
was written to, no answer was returned. That was not greatly wondered
at, for it was known that he had been found insensible on the road, and
had been carried in the same condition to West Wyke.
The directors wrote him to the effect that the affairs of Mr.
Trampleasure, deceased, were so involved in those of the Ophir Mining
Company that it was necessary to settle both together. Mr. Trampleasure
had died insolvent. His chief creditors were the directors of the
company, and the administration of his effects had been granted to them.
They were, therefore, empowered to call in all moneys due to the
deceased, and, as such, they claimed the five thousand pounds which were
to be repaid to Mr. Trampleasure in the event of the marriage of his
daughter with Captain Trecarrel not taking place on a certain day. That
marriage had not been solemnized at the time specified, nor was it
probable that it would be within a reasonable period, therefore the
money was due to them as a debt to the late Mr. Trampleasure.
The cheque did reach them after a time, written with a shaking hand, and
the money was drawn. Herring could not have refused it. With the cheque
came a letter offering to purchase the entire plant of Ophir, wheel, and
stampers, and crushers, everything in fact, at a moderate valuation.
The offer was too good to be refused. The directors closed with it by
return of post. There was, consequently, no sale by auction at Ophir,
but everything in Dolbeare was condemned to go by the hammer, except the
personal effects of Mrs. and Miss Trampleasure, and of Mirelle. The
house was to be cleared of everything, except the clock on the stairs,
the crayon portraits, and the walking-sticks. The ladies could not
remain for the auction. They would have had no home to go to, had not
the Reverend Israel Flamank intervened and opened his doors to them. He
did this in a gush of benevolence, and, unhappily, without first
consulting Mrs. Flamank, who, when told what he had done, went into
'tantrums,' and made the house so unpleasant for the Reverend Israel
that he spent the rest of the day in making pastoral calls and eating
pastoral meals with his sheep.
By evening Mrs. Flamank became calmer, and, when her husband returned
late, was so far subdued that she yielded a reluctant consent to giving
the Trampleasures shelter for a month.
'You know, Betsy Delilah, dear saint,' said Israel, 'if we do not take
them in, the poor creatures will be turned into the street, and that
your tender heart would be unable to bear, sweet angel!'
'I'm sure, Izzy, we have lost enough by the Trampleasures already.
However, I will not say nay, because it will look well, and people will
say we practise what we preach. Only--I warn you, Izzy!' she held up her
finger; 'mind yourself.'
What Mrs. Betsy Delilah meant by this warning, he understood perfectly.
With his many excellent qualities, Mr. Flamank had a weakness: he was
given to caress his female devotees.
In the Established Church there are two schools differing in their
tendencies. The tendency of the extreme of the High Church is towards
plunging into pecuniary difficulties; the tendency of the extreme of the
Low Church is towards lapses into amatory difficulties. If this be the
case in the Established Church--if this be done in the green tree, what
goes on in the dry?--in the nonconformist churches, where the ministers
are not independent of their congregations--where the mercury of their
salary rises and falls with their popularity. It is natural that in
such circumstances there should be developed a tendency towards fawning
on and fondling of pious ladies with money. A little coaxing retains a
sheep that inclines to err into another fold. The pressing of the hand
changes a shilling subscription into a guinea, and an arm round the
waist elevates it to five pounds. When the habit has been acquired of
showing these tendernesses to the well-to-do, old and ugly ladies, it
sometimes extends also to those who are good-looking and young, and
becomes at last wholly indiscriminate.
Now the Reverend Israel Flamank was a sincere and good man, and he drew
the line, with singular moderation, at kisses. These were
scriptural--the Apostle Paul had a fancy for them, and recommended them
wholesale. But the arm round the waist he did not allow. He found no
warranty for it in Holy Writ. But he would take a lady's hand in one of
his, and stroke it with the other, and read and expound to her the Song
of Solomon. There was no harm in that; and it was really remarkable how
these innocent attentions told on his income and his acceptableness to
his congregation.
Mrs. Flamank did not like these familiarities. Though she knew they
were as harmless as the love-making of actors and actresses on the
stage, and were inseparable from the position of a minister in an
Unestablished Church, she objected to them. She was very determined, if
she received Mrs. Trampleasure, Orange, and Mirelle into her house, she
would permit none of these Pauline caressings under her eyes. But it is
easier for a resolution to be taken than to enforce it. Mr. Flamank was
very discreet for a week or ten days, but after that he began to soften
towards the ladies. Mirelle kept him at a distance from the outset. He
had been highly pleased at the prospect of getting a daughter of the
Scarlet Woman into his house. He looked on her as an erring sheep, one
who erred through ignorance; and he hoped to enlighten her, and lead her
into the paths of truth. He was, however, somewhat puzzled how to set
about it. Mirelle withdrew from family devotion, and declined to assist
at his scriptural readings. She would not attend his chapel. She
allowed him no opportunity of opening a conversation with her on
religious topics. She was cold, reserved, and silent. Mrs. Flamank
rather liked her: there was no fear of Israel patting her hand.
The pastor attempted to dazzle her with his evangelical talk, much in
the same way that young Sampson had attempted to impress her with his
brag of feats performed with dogs and horses. On one or two occasions
he had the temerity to attack her, but he came off with falls which
damped his ardour. Once, when he assailed her on the subject of belief,
she cut him short with the observation, 'We do not speak the same
language. When I say, I believe, I mean that I hold as certain, but I
notice that you use the word differently, as synonymous with I suppose.
We look at different objects and through different instruments; I
through a telescope at constant verities, you through a kaleidoscope at
vari-coloured and ever-varying opinions.'
With Orange it was not the same. She was in trouble. Mortified pride
and wounded love brought frequent tears into her eyes. She looked very
handsome in her mourning suit. What is the first duty of a pastor, but
to comfort the sorrowful, to soothe the ruffled soul, to apply the balm
of Gilead to open wounds? So Mr. Israel Flamank was assiduous in his
comforting and soothing, and dabbing on of balm,--more assiduous than
Betsy Delilah liked. Orange was coarse of grit, and did not object to
the little attentions of the pastor which would have been insufferable
to Mirelle. She accepted them with indifference; she was without
religious instincts, and the words of the shepherd fell empty on her
ear. But there was something flattering in his efforts to console her,
and at the present time, when her pride was hurt, any flattery was
pleasing. Captain Trecarrel was not there to staunch her tears, to
cheer her and give her assurance of a future; any one who could afford
her some alleviation to her humiliation, and encourage her with a hope
of better things, was acceptable, even though he were a dissenting
minister.
Flamank was perfectly sincere. His heart was full of kindness and
devoid of guile. He was troubled at her distress, and unhappy at his
inability to help her. It was unfortunate that his mode of expressing
these justifiable feelings did not meet with the approval of Betsy
Delilah. They irritated her, and she determined to shake herself free
of her guests at the first opportunity.
Captain Trecarrel had returned to the neighbourhood. Orange heard of
it, and waited several days in expectation of a visit. But he neither
called nor sent to inquire after her and her mother. She brooded over
this neglect. Did he really mean to desert her? He could not behave so
cruelly, so unworthily. Her hot blood raced through her veins. She
resolved that she would go herself to Trecarrel. She would go alone; no
one should know of the visit. She would speak to Harry face to face.
When he had her before him, and saw her in her black, her face--her
beautiful face, wet with tears, his love would blaze up, his manly pity
and generosity would force him to assert his right to protect her.
He was staying away only because of the scandal about Ophir. He was
waiting for that to blow away, and then he would return to her. She
felt sure of that; she measured his love by her own. Would she have
forsaken him had ruin overtaken him? A thousand times no--no--no! She
must know his intentions for certain. Her future depended on knowing
this. She was unable to endure the thought that she should be seen
going to seek him, and therefore she resolved to go by herself after
dark. She would not tell Mrs. or Mr. Flamank, nor her mother, nor, of
course, Mirelle. The thing could be done with ease. The drawing-room
had French windows, through which the little garden could be entered.
The drawing-room was rarely sat in; it was used for company occasions.
The family occupied the dining-room, in which they had their meals, and
in which they worked and talked afterwards, amidst the fumes of meat,
cabbage, and cheese. This was economical; it saved carpets and
furniture, and an extra fire.
Orange waited till all had gone to bed. They were early risers, and
retired early in that house. Then she softly descended the stairs, her
shoes in her hand, and entered the drawing-room. She easily unclosed
the shutters, without making any noise, unlocked and unbolted the French
window, opened it, put on her shoes, and stepped forth on the gravel.
The street was deserted; only a low tavern at the end had the door open,
and a light shone forth into the road. In that gleam, a young woman,
adorned with gay ribands, was laughing and romping with two nearly tipsy
young men. The language, the gestures, were gross and disgusting.
'Have another nip of gin, Polly.'
'No, you shan't have none of his, Polly, I'll give you some, my duck.
You be my sweetheart, and not his.'