DESCRIBES THE REMARKABLE MANNER IN WHICH
CULLEN MAYLE LEFT TRESCO
"It was my business," he began, "to fetch Cullen Mayle from Tresco
over to St. Mary's where the stocks were set. It was an unpleasant
business, and to me doubly and damnably unpleasant."
"I understand!" said I, thinking of how he had before spoken to me of
Adam Mayle's adopted daughter.
"I took a file of Musquets, found the three of them at breakfast, and,
with as much delicacy as I could, explained my errand. Helen alone
showed any distress or consciousness of disgrace. Cullen strolled to
the window, and seeing that I had placed my men securely about the
house and that my boat was ready on the sand not a dozen yards away,
professed himself, with an inimitable indifference, willing to gratify
my wishes; while Adam, so far from manifesting any anger, broke out
into a great roar of laughter.
"'Cullen, my boy,' he shouted, like a man highly pleased, 'here's a
nasty stumble for your pride. To sit in the stocks of a Sunday
morning, when all the girls can see you as they come from church! To
sit in the stocks like a common drunkard; and you that sets up for a
gentleman! Oh, Cullen, Cullen!' He wagged his head from side to side,
and so brought his fist upon the table with a bang which set all the
plates dancing. 'Devil damn me,' said he, 'if I don't sail to church
at St. Mary's myself and see how you look in your wooden garters.'
Cullen glanced carelessly towards me. 'An unseemly old man,' said he;
and we left Adam still shaking like a monstrous jellyfish, and crossed
back to St. Mary's from Tresco.
"Sure enough Adam kept his word. They were singing the _Nunc Dimittis_
in the church when Adam stumped up the aisle. He had brought Helen
with him, and she looked as though she wished the brick floor to open
and let her out of sight. But Adam kept his head erect and showed a
face of an extraordinary good humour. You may be certain that the
parson got the scantiest attention imaginable to his discourse. For
one thing, Adam Mayle had never set foot in St. Mary's Church before,
and for another, every one was agog to see how he would bear himself
afterwards, when he passed on his way to the quay across the little
space before the Customs House.
"There was a rush to the church door as soon as the benediction was
pronounced, and it happened that I was one of the last to come out of
the porch. The first thing that I saw was Adam walking a little way
apart amongst the gravestones with a stranger, and the next thing,
Helen talking to Dick Parmiter."
Here I interrupted Clutterbuck, for I was anxious to let no detail
escape me.
"Had Dick crossed with Adam Mayle from Tresco?"
"I think not," returned Clutterbuck. "He was not in the church. I do
not know, but I fancy he brought the stranger over to St. Mary's
afterwards."
"And who was this stranger?"
"George Glen he called himself, and said he had been quartermaster
with Adam Mayle at Whydah. He was a squat, tarry man, of Adam's age or
thereabouts, and the pair of them walked through the gates and crossed
the fields over to the street of Hugh Town. I made haste to join
Helen," Clutterbuck continued, and explained his words with an
unnecessary confusion. "I mean, I would not have it appear that she
shared in the disgrace which had befallen Cullen Mayle. So I walked
with her, and we followed Adam down the street to the Customs House,
where it seemed every inhabitant was loitering, and where Cullen sat,
with his hat cocked forward over his forehead to shield him from the
sun, entirely at his ease.
"It was curious to observe the behaviour of the loiterers. Some
affected not to see Cullen at all; some, but those chiefly maidens,
protested that it was a great shame so fine a gentleman should be so
barbarously used. The elders on the other hand answered that he had
come over late to his deserts, while a few, with a ludicrous pretence
of unconsciousness, bowed and smiled at him as though it was the most
natural thing in the world for a man in a laced coat to take the air
in the stocks of a Sunday morning.
"Into the midst of this group marched Adam Mayle, and came to a halt
before his son. He had composed his face to an unexceptionable
gravity, and as he prodded thoughtfully with his stick at the sole of
Cullen's shoe,
"'This is the first time,' he said, 'that ever I saw a pair of silk
stockings in the stocks.'
"'One lives and learns,' replied Cullen, indifferently; and the old
man lifted his nose into the air and said dreamily:
"'There is a ducking-chair, is there not, at the pier head?' and so
walked on to the steps where his boat was moored. He went down into it
with Mr. Glen, and the two men set about hoisting the sail. I was
still standing on the pier with Helen.
"'You will come too?' she said with a sort of appeal. 'I do not know
what may happen when Cullen is set free and comes back, I should be
very glad if you would come.'"
Lieutenant Clutterbuck broke off his story and walked uneasily once or
twice across the room as though he was troubled even now with the
recollection of her appeal and of how she looked when she made it.
"So I went," he continued suddenly, and with a burst of frankness.
"You see, Steve, she and I were very good friends; I never saw
anything but welcome in her eyes when I crossed over to Tresco, and
the kindliness of her voice had a warmth, and at times a tenderness,
which I hoped meant more than friendship. Indeed, I would have staked
my life she was ignorant of duplicity; and with Cullen she seemed
always at some pains to conceal a repugnance. Well, I was young, I
suppose; I saw with the eyes of youth, which see everything out of its
due proportion. I crossed to Tresco, and while we were seated at
dinner, about two hours later, Cullen Mayle strolled in and took his
chair. Dick Parmiter had waited for him at St. Mary's until such time
as he was set free, and had brought him across the Road.
"I cannot deny but what Cullen Mayle bore himself very suitably for
the greater part of the time we were at table. Adam's blatant jests
were enough to set any man's teeth on edge, yet Cullen made as though
he did not hear a word of them, and talked politely upon indifferent
topics to us and Mr. Glen. Adam, however, was not to be silenced that
way. His banter became coarse and vindictive; for one thing he had
drunk a deal of liquor, and for another he was exasperated that he
could not provoke his son. I forget what particular joke he roared out
from the head of the table, but I saw Cullen stretch his arm out over
the cloth.
"'I see what is amiss,' he said, wearily, and took away the brandy
bottle from his father's elbow. He went to the window, and opening it,
emptied the bottle on to the grass beneath the sill. Then he came back
to his seat and said suavely to Mr. Glen: 'My father cannot get the
better of his old habits; he is drunk very early on Sundays--an
unregenerate old put of a fellow as ever I came across.'
"The quarrel followed close upon the heels of that sentence, and
occupied the afternoon and was renewed at supper. Adam very violent
and blustering; Cullen very cool and composed, and only betraying his
passion by the whiteness of his face. He used no oaths; he sat staring
at his father with his dark sleepy eyes, and languidly accused him of
every crime in the Newgate Calendar, with a great deal of detail as to
time and place, and adding any horrible detail which came into his
mind. The old man was routed at the last. About the middle of supper
he got up from his chair, and going up the stairs shut himself into a
room which he had fitted up as a cabin, and where he was used to sit
of an evening.
"We were all, as you may guess, inexpressibly relieved when Adam left
the parlour, for here it seemed was the quarrel ended. We counted,
however, without Cullen. He looked for a moment or two at his father's
empty chair, and stood up in his turn.
"'Here's an old rogue for you,' he said in a gentle voice. 'He has no
more manners than a nasty pig. I'll teach him some,' and he followed
his father up the stairs and into the cabin above. What was said
between them we never heard, but we gathered at the foot of the stairs
in the hall and listened to their voices. The old man bellowed as
though he was in pain, and shook the windows with his noise; Cullen's
voice came to us only as a smooth, continuous murmur. For half an hour
perhaps we stood thus in the hall--interference would have only made
matters worse--and I own that this half hour was not wholly unpleasant
to me. Helen, in a word, was afraid, and more than once her hand was
laid upon my coat-sleeve, and, touching it, ceased to tremble. She
turned to me, it seemed, in that half hour of fear; I was fool enough
to think it.
"At length we heard a door opening. Cullen negligently came down the
stairs; Adam rushed out after him as far as the head of the stairs,
where he stopped.
"'Open the door, one of you!' he bawled. 'Kick him out, Clutterbuck,
and we'll see what damned muck-heap his fine manners will lead him
to.'
"The outcry brought the servants scurrying into the hall. Adam
repeated his order and one of the servants threw open the door.
"'Will you fetch me my boots?' said Cullen, and sitting down in a
chair he kicked off his shoes. Then he pulled on his boots
deliberately, stood up and felt in his pockets. From one pocket he
drew out five guineas, from a second two, from a third four. These
eleven guineas he held in his open hand.
"'They belong to you, I think,' he said, softly, poising them in his
palm; and before any one could move a step or indeed guess at his
intention, he raised his arm and flung them with all his force to
where his father stood at the head of the stairs. Two of the guineas
cut the old man in the forehead, and the blood ran down his face; the
rest sparkled and clattered against the panels behind his head, whence
they fell on to the stairs and rolled one by one down into the hall.
No one spoke; no one moved. The brutal violence of the action for the
moment paralysed every one; even Adam stood shaking at the stair head
with his wits wandering. One by one the guineas rolled down the
staircase, leaping from step to step, rattling as they leaped; and for
a long time it seemed, one whirred and sang in a corner as it span
round and settled down upon the boards; and when the coin had ceased
to spin, still no one moved, no one spoke. A murmur of waves breaking
lazily upon the sand, a breath of air stirring a shrub in the garden,
the infinitesimal trumpeting of a gnat, came through the window,
bringing as it were tales of things which lived into a room of
statues.
"Cullen himself was the first to break the enchantment. He took his
watch from his fob and holding it by the ribbon twirled it backwards
and forwards. It was a big silver watch, and as he twirled it this way
and that, it caught the light, seemed to throw out little sparks of
fire, and flashed with a dazzling brightness. The eyes of the company
were caught by it; they watched it with a keen attention, not knowing
why they watched it; they watched it as it shone and glittered in its
revolutions, almost with a sense of expectation, as though something
of great consequence was to happen from the twirling of that watch.
"'This, too, is yours,' said Cullen, 'but it was no doubt some dead
sailorman's before you stole it;' and ceasing to twirl the watch he
held it steady by the ribbon. Then he looked round the hall and saw
Helen staring at the watch with a queer intentness. I remember that
her hand was at that moment resting upon my sleeve, and I felt it grow
more rigid. I looked at her; her face was set, her eyes fixed upon
Cullen and his glittering watch. I spoke to her; she did not answer,
she did not hear."
Clutterbuck interrupted his story and sat moodily lost in his
recollections, and when he resumed it was with great bitterness.
"I think," he continued, "that when Cullen spoke, he spoke with no
other end than to provoke his father yet more. You must know that the
old man had just one tender spot in his heart. Cullen could have no
other aim but to set his heel on that.
"'I will come back for you, Helen,' he said, bending his eyes upon her
and making as if there was much love between them; and to everybody's
surprise Helen lifted her eyes slowly from the watch until they met
Cullen's, and kept them there. She did not answer him in words, there
was no need she should, every line of her body expressed obedience.
"Even Cullen was puzzled by her demeanour. Boy and girl, maid and
youth, they had lived side by side in the house with indifference upon
his part and all the appearance of aversion upon hers. Yet here was
she subdued in an instant at the prospect of his departure! It seemed
that the mere thought that Cullen was henceforth an outcast tore her
secret live and warm from her heart.
"Cullen was plainly puzzled, as I say, but he was not the man to miss
an advantage in the gratification of his malice. He shot one
triumphant look at his father and spoke again to Helen.
"'You will wait for me?'
"Her eyes never wavered from his.
"'Yes!' she answered.
"It was a humiliating moment for me as you may imagine. It must have
been more humiliating for Adam. With a hand upon the rail he lumbered
heavily down a couple of the stairs.
"'No!' he cried, with a dreadful oath and in a voice which was
strangely moved.
"'But I say yes,' said Cullen, very quietly. The smile had gone from
his face; a new excitement kindled it. He was pitting his will against
his father's. I saw him suddenly draw himself erect. 'Or, better
still, you shall come with me now,' he cried. He reached out his arm
straight from the shoulder towards her.
"'Come! Come with me now.'
"His voice rang out dominant like the clang of a trumpet, and to the
consternation of us all, Helen crossed the floor towards him. I tried
to detain her. 'Helen,' I cried, 'you do not know what you are doing.
He will drag you into the gutter.'
"'Lieutenant Clutterbuck,' said Cullen, 'you are very red in the face.
You cannot expect she will listen to you, for you do not look well
when you are red in the face.'
"I paid no heed to his gibes.
"'Helen,' I cried, again. She paid no more heed to my prayers. 'What
will you do? Where will you go?' I asked.
"'We shall go to London,' answered Cullen, 'where we shall do very
well, and further to the best of our means Lieutenant Clutterbuck's
advancement.'
"Humiliation and grief had overset my judgment or I should not have
argued at this moment with Cullen Mayle. I flung out at him hotly, and
like a boy.
"'When you are doing very well in London, Cullen Mayle, Lieutenant
Clutterbuck will not be so far behind you.'
"'He will indeed be close upon my heels,' returned Cullen as
pleasantly as possible, 'for most likely he will be carrying my
valise.'
"With that he turned again to Helen, beckoned her to follow him, and
strode towards the open door. She did follow him. Cullen was already
in the doorway; in another second she would have crossed the
threshold. But with a surprising agility Adam Mayle jumped down the
stairs, ran across the hall, and caught the girl in his arms. She did
not struggle to free herself, but she strained steadily towards
Cullen. The old man's arms were strong, however.
"'Shut the door,' he cried, and I sprang forward and slammed it to.
"'Lock it! Bolt it!'
"Adam stood with his arms about the girl until the heavy bar swung
down across the door and dropped into its socket with a clang. Now do
you understand why I will not go down to Tresco? I can give you
another reason if you are not content. When I spoke to Helen two days
later, and taxed her with her passion for Cullen,--would you believe
it?--she was deeply pained and hurt. She would not have it said that
she had so much as thought of following Cullen's fortunes. She
outfaced me as though I had been telling her fairy tales, and not what
my own eyes saw. No, indeed, I will not go down to Tresco! I am not
the traveller who has ridden into your wood upon the Great West Road."
Lieutenant Clutterbuck took up his hat when he had finished his story,
"The girl, besides, is not worth a thought," said he.
"I am not thinking of her," said I. Of Lieutenant Clutterbuck, of
myself, above all of Dick Parmiter, I was thinking, but not at all of
Helen Mayle. I drew the map towards me. Clutterbuck stopped at the
door, came back and again leaned over my shoulder.
"Has your traveller come out from that wood?" he asked.
"No," I answered.
"It is an allegory," said he. "The man who rides down on this business
to the West will, in very truth, enter into a wood from which he will
not get free."