Before Oliver Trembath had advanced half a mile on his path, he had
cooled sufficiently to experience some regret at having been so quick to
take offence at one who, being evidently an eccentric character, should
not, he thought, have been broken with so summarily. Regrets, however,
had come too late, so he endeavoured to shake off the disagreeable
feelings that depressed him, and, the more effectually to accomplish
this, burst forth into a bravura song with so much emphasis as utterly
to drown, and no doubt to confound, two larks, which, up to that time,
had been pouring their melodious souls out of their little bodies in the
bright blue sky above.
Presently he came to a part of the moor where two roads diverged--one to
the right and the other to the left. Recalling the shout of advice
which the old gentleman had given him in parting, he took that which led
to the left, and was gratified, on gaining an eminence a short distance
in advance, to see in the far distance a square turret, which he
concluded was that of the church of St. Just.
Keeping this turret in view, the youth stepped out so vigorously that he
soon reached the small town that clustered round the church, and going
up to the first man he met, said, "This is the town of St. Just, I
suppose, is it not?"
"No, et is'n; thee's come the wrang road, sur," replied the rustic.
"This es Sennen church-town. St. Just es up over th' hill theere."
Oliver Trembath's first feeling was one of surprise; this was followed
by annoyance, which quickly degenerated into anger as it flashed into
his mind that the old gentleman might possibly have led him wrong on
purpose.
"How far is it to St. Just?" he inquired.
"'Bout six miles, sur."
"Then I suppose I am not far from the Land's End?" said Oliver after a
pause.
"No, not fur," replied the man. "Et do lie straight before 'ee."
Thanking the man, Oliver started off at a smart pace, resolving, before
proceeding to St. Just, to visit this extreme western point of England--
a visit to which he had often looked forward with pleasant anticipation.
During the last hour of his walk the sun had been obscured by clouds,
but, just as he approached the cliffs, the clouds separated, and a
golden flood rushed over the broad Atlantic, which now lay spread out
before him in all its wide majesty as far as the eye could see.
"A good omen!" cried the youth with a shout, as he hurried towards the
shore, intending to fling off his garments and bathe in the mighty
ocean, which, from the place where he first beheld it, appeared to be
smooth and still as a mill-pond. But Oliver was compelled to restrain
his ardour, for on nearing the sea he found that he stood on the summit
of high cliffs, beyond which the Land's End stretched in a succession of
broken masses of granite, so chafed and shattered by the action of the
sea, and so curiously split, as to resemble basaltic columns. To reach
the outermost of those weather-worn sentinels of Old England, required
some caution on the part of our traveller, even although well used to
scaling the rocky heights of Scottish mountains, and when he did at last
plant his foot on the veritable Land's End, he found that it was a
precipice apparently sixty feet high, which descended perpendicularly
into deep water. His meditated bathe was therefore an impossibility,
for those glassy undulations, which appeared so harmless at a distance,
gathered slow and gradual height as they approached the land, and at
last, assuming the form of majestic waves, flung themselves with a grand
roar on the stern cliffs which they have battered so long in vain, and
round which--always repulsed but never conquered--they seethed in milky
foam.
With glistening eye, and heaving breast, and mantling colour, the young
doctor stood long and motionless on this extreme point of land--absorbed
in admiration of the glorious scene before him. Often had he beheld the
sea in the firths and estuaries of the North, but never till now had he
conceived the grandeur of the great Atlantic. It seemed to him as if
the waves of those inland seas, when tossed by wild storms, were but
rough miniature copies of the huge billows which arose before him,
without apparent cause, and, advancing without rush or agitation, fell
successively with solemn roar at his feet, awakening irresistibly within
him deep and new thoughts of the Almighty Creator of earth and sea.
For many minutes he stood entranced, his mind wandering in a species of
calm delight over the grand scene, but incapable of fixing itself
definitely on any special feature--now sweeping out to where the Scilly
Isles could be seen resting on the liquid horizon, anon following the
flight of circling seagulls, or busy counting the innumerable ships and
boats that rested on the sea, but ever and anon recurring, as if under
the influence of fascination, to that rich turmoil of foam which boiled,
leaped, and churned, around, beneath, and above the mighty breakers.
Awaking at last from his trance, Oliver tore himself from the spot, and
hastened away to seek the nearest strip of sand where he might throw off
his clothes and plunge into the boiling surf.
He proceeded in a southerly direction, impatiently expecting at every
step to discover some spot suitable for his purpose, but he had taken a
long and rapid walk before he found a break in those wild cliffs which
afforded him the opportunity of descending to the water's edge. Here,
on a narrow strip of sand, he undressed and leaped into the waves.
Well was it for Oliver that day that he had been trained in all manly
exercises, that his "wind" was good, that his muscles were hard, his
nerves well strung, and, above all, that in earliest youth he had
learned to swim.
Misjudging, in his ignorance, the tremendous power of the surf into
which he sprang, and daring to recklessness in the conscious possession
of unusual strength and courage, he did not pause to look or consider,
but at once struck out to sea. He was soon beyond the influence of the
breaking waves, and for some time sported in the full enjoyment of the
briny Atlantic waters. Then turning towards the shore he swam in and
was speedily tossing among the breakers. As he neared the sandy beach
and felt the full power of the water on his partially exhausted frame,
he experienced a slight feeling of anxiety, for the thunder of each wave
as it fell and rushed up before him in seething foam, seemed to indicate
a degree of force which he had not realised in his first vigorous plunge
into the sea. A moment more and a wave caught him in its curling crest,
and swept him onwards. For the first time in his life, Oliver
Trembath's massive strength was of no avail to him. He felt like a
helpless infant. In another instant the breaker fell and swept him with
irresistible violence up the beach amid a turmoil of hissing foam. No
sooner did he touch the ground than he sprang to his feet, and staggered
forward a few paces but the returning rush of water swept sand and
stones from beneath his feet, carried his legs from under him, and
hurled him back into the hollow of the succeeding wave, which again
rolled him on the sand.
Although somewhat stunned, Oliver did not lose consciousness or
self-possession. He now fully realised the extreme danger of his
position, and the thought flashed through his brain that, at the
farthest, his fate must be decided in two or three minutes. Acting on a
brave spirit, this thought nerved him to desperate effort. The instant
he could plant his feet firmly he bounded forwards, and then, before the
backward rush of water had gathered strength, fell on his knees, and dug
his fingers and toes deep into the sand. Had the grasp been on
something firm he could easily have held on, but the treacherous sand
crumbled out of his grasp, and a second time he was carried back into
the sea.
The next time he was cast on the beach he felt that his strength was
failing; he staggered forward as soon as he touched bottom, with all the
energy of one who avails himself of his last chance, but the angry water
was too strong for him. Feeling that he was being overpowered, he cast
his arms up in the air, and gave utterance to a loud cry. It was not
like a cry of despair, but sounded more like what one might suppose
would be the shout of a brave soldier when compelled to give way--
fighting--before the might of overwhelming force. At that moment a hand
caught the young man's wrist, and held it for a few seconds in a
powerful grasp. The wave retreated, a staggering effort followed, and
the next moment Oliver stood panting on the beach grasping the rough
hand of his deliverer.
"Semen to me you was pretty nigh gone, sur," said the man, who had come
thus opportunely to the rescue, as he wrung the sea-water from his
garments.
He was a man of middle height, but of extremely powerful frame, and was
habited in the garb of a fisherman.
"Truly I had been gone altogether but for your timely assistance; may
God reward you for it!" said Oliver earnestly.
"Well, I don't think you would be so ready to thank me if you did knaw I
had half made up my mind to lev 'ee go."
Oliver looked at the man in some surprise, for he spoke gruffly, almost
angrily, and was evidently in earnest.
"You are jesting," said he incredulously.
"Jestin'; no I ain't, maister. Do 'ee see the boat out over?" he said,
pointing to a small craft full of men which was being rowed swiftly
round a point not more than half a mile distant; "the villains are after
me. They might as well have tried to kitch a cunger by the tail as nab
Jim Cuttance in one of his dens, if he hadn't bin forced by the softness
of his 'art to pull a young fool out o' the say. You'll have to help me
to fight, lad, as I've saved your life. Come, follow me to the cave."
"But--my clothes--" said Oliver, glancing round him in search of his
garments.
"They're all safe up here; come along, sur, an' look sharp."
At any other time, and in other circumstances, Oliver Trembath's fiery
spirit would have resented the tone and manner of this man's address,
but the feeling that he owed his life to him, and that in some way he
appeared to be the innocent cause of bringing misfortune on him, induced
him to restrain his feelings and obey without question the mandate of
his rescuer. Jim Cuttance led the way to a cave in the rugged cliffs,
the low entrance to which was concealed by a huge mass of granite. The
moment they entered several voices burst forth in abuse of the fisherman
for his folly in exposing himself; but the latter only replied with a
sarcastic laugh, and advised his comrades to get ready for action, for
he had been seen by the enemy, who would be down on them directly. At
the same time he pointed to Oliver's clothes, which lay in a recess in
the side of the cavern.
The youth dressed himself rapidly, and, while thus engaged, observed
that there were five men in the cavern, besides his guide, with whom
they retired into the farthest recess of the place, and entered into
animated and apparently angry, though low-toned, conversation. At
length their leader, for such he evidently was, swung away from them,
exclaiming, with a laugh, "Well, well, he's a good recruit, and if he
should peach on we--us can--"
He concluded the sentence with a significant grunt.
"Now, sur," he said, advancing with his comrade towards Oliver, who was
completing his toilet, "they'll be here in ten minutes, an' it is
expected that you will lend we a hand. Here's a weapon for you."
So saying, he handed a large pistol to Oliver, who received it with some
hesitation.
"I trust that your cause is a good one," he said. "You cannot expect me
to fight for you, even though I am indebted to you for my life, without
knowing against whom I fight, and why."
At this a tall thick-set man suddenly cocked his pistol, and uttering a
fierce oath swore that if the stranger would not fight, he'd shoot him
through the head.
"Silence, Joe Tonkin!" cried Jim Cuttance, in a tone that at once
subdued the man.
Oliver, whose eyes had flashed like those of a tiger, drew himself up,
and said--"Look at me, lads; I have no desire to boast of what I can or
will do, but I assure you it would be as easy to turn back the rising
tide as to force me to fight against my will--except, indeed, with
yourselves. As I have said, I owe my life to your leader, and
apparently have been the innocent means of drawing his enemies upon him.
Gratitude tells me to help him if I can, and help him will if the cause
be not a bad one."
"Well spoken, sur," said the leader, with an approving nod; "see to the
weapons, Maggot, and I'll explain it all to the gentleman."
So saying, he too Oliver aside, told him hurriedly that the men who ere
expected to attack them were fishermen belonging to a neighbouring cove,
whose mackerel nets had been accidentally cut by his boat some weeks
ago, and who were bent on revenge, not believing that the thing had been
done by accident.
"But surely you don't mean to use fire-arms against them in such a
quarrel?" said Oliver.
A sort of humorous smile crossed the swarthy countenance of the man as
he replied--
"They will use pistols against we."
"Be that as it may," said Oliver; "I will never consent to risk taking
the life of a countryman in such a cause."
"But you can't fight without a weapon," said the man; "and sure, if 'ee
don't shut them they'll shut you."
"No matter, I'll take my chance," said Oliver; "my good cudgel would
have served me well enough, but it seems to have been swept away by the
sea. Here, however, is a weapon that will suit me admirably," he added,
picking up a heavy piece of driftwood that lay at his feet.
"Well, if you scat their heads with that, they won't want powder and
lead," observed the other with a grin, as he rose and returned to the
entrance of the cave, where he warned his comrades to keep as quiet as
mice.
The boat which had caused so much angry discussion among the men of the
cave had by this time neared the beach, and one of the crew stood up in
the bow to guide her into the narrow cove, which formed but a slight
protection, even in calm weather, against the violence of that surf
which never ceases to grind at the hard rocks of West Cornwall. At
length they effected a landing, and the crew, consisting of nine men
armed with pistols and cutlasses, hurried up to the cliffs and searched
for the entrance to the cavern.
While the events which have been related were taking place, the shades
of evening had been gradually creeping over land and sea, and the light
was at that time scarcely sufficient to permit of things being
distinguished clearly beyond a few yards. The men in the cavern hid
themselves in the dark recesses on each side of the entrance, ready for
the approaching struggle.
Oliver crouched beside his rescuer with the piece of driftwood by his
side. Turning suddenly to his companion, he said, in an almost
inaudible whisper--
"Friend, it did not occur to me before, but the men we are about to
fight with will recognise me again if we should ever chance to meet;
could I not manage to disguise myself in some way?"
"If you get shut," replied his companion in the same low tone, "it won't
matter much; but see here--shut your eyes."
Without further remark the man took a handful of wet earth and smeared
it over Oliver's face, then, clapping his own "sou'-wester" on his head,
he said, with a soft chuckle, "There, your own mother wouldn't knaw
'ee!"
Just then footsteps were heard approaching, and the shadow of a man was
seen to rest for a moment on the gravel without. The mouth of the cave
was so well hidden, however, that he failed to observe it, and passed
on, followed by several of his comrades. Suddenly one of them stopped
and said--
"Hold on, lads, it can't be far off, I'm sartin' sure; I seed 'em
disappear hereabouts."
"You're right," cried Jim Cuttance, with a fierce roar, as he rushed
from the cavern and fired full at the man who had spoken. The others
followed, and a volley of shots succeeded, while shouts of defiance and
anger burst forth on all sides. Oliver sprang out at the same moment
with the leader, and rushed on one of the boat's crew with such violence
that his foot slipped on a piece of seaweed and precipitated him to the
ground at the man's feet; the other, having sprung forward to meet him
was unable to check himself, tripped over his shoulders, and fell on the
top of him. The man named Maggot, having been in full career close
behind Oliver, tumbled over both, followed by another man named John
Cock. The others, observing them down, rushed with a shout to the
rescue, just as Oliver, making a superhuman effort, flung the two men
off his back and leaped to his feet. Maggot and the boatman also sprang
up, and the latter turned and made for the boat at full speed, seeing
that his comrades, overcome by the suddenness of the onset, were in
retreat, fighting as they went.
All of them succeeded in getting into the boat unharmed, and were in the
act of pushing off, when Jim Cuttance, burning with indignation, leaped
into the water, grasped the bow of the boat, and was about to plunge his
cutlass into the back of the man nearest him, when he was seized by a
strong hand from behind and held back. Next moment the boat was beyond
his reach.
Turning round fiercely, the man saw that it was Oliver Trembath who had
interfered. He uttered a terrible oath, and sprang on him like a tiger;
Oliver stood firm, parried with the piece of driftwood the savage cut
which was made at his head, and with his clenched left hand hit his
opponent such a blow on the chest as laid him flat on the sand. The man
sprang up in an instant, but instead of renewing the attack, to Oliver's
surprise he came forward and held out his hand, which the youth was not
unwilling to grasp.
"Thank 'ee, sur," he said, somewhat sternly, "you've done me a sarvice;
you've prevented me committin' two murders, an' taught me a lesson I
never knaw'd afore--that Jim Cuttance an't invulnerable. I don't mind
the blow, sur--not I. It wor gov'n in feer fight, an' I was wrang."
"I'm glad to find that you view the matter in that light," said Oliver
with a smile, "and, truly, the blow was given in self-defence by one who
will never forget that he owes you his life."
A groan here turned the attention of the party to one of their number
who had seated himself on a rock during the foregoing dialogue.
"What! not hurt, are 'ee, Dan?" said his leader, going towards him.
To this Dan replied with another groan, and placed his hand on his hip.
His comrades crowded round him, and, finding that he was wounded and
suffering great pain, raised him in their arms and bore him into the
cavern, where they laid him on the ground, and, lighting a candle,
proceeded to examine him.
"You had better let me look at him, lads," said Oliver, pushing the men
gently aside, "I am a surgeon."
They gave place at once, and Oliver soon found that the man had received
a pistol-ball in his thigh. Fortunately it had been turned aside in its
course, and lay only a little way beneath the skin, so that it was
easily extracted by means of a penknife.
"Now, friends," said Oliver, after completing the dressing of the wound,
"before I met with you I had missed my way while travelling to St. Just.
Will one of you direct me to the right road, and I shall bid you
good-night, as I think you have no further need of my services."
The men looked at their leader, whom they evidently expected to be their
spokesman.
"Well, sur, you have rendered we some help this hevenin', both in the
way o' pickin' out the ball an' helpin' to break skulls as well as
preventin' worse, so we can do no less than show 'ee the road; but hark
'ee, sur," here the man became very impressive, "ef you do chance to
come across any of us in your travels, you had better not knaw us,
'xcept in an or'nary way, d'ye understand? an' us will do the same by
thee."
"Of course I will act as you wish," said Oliver with a smile, "although
I do not see why we should be ashamed of this affair, seeing that we
were the party attacked. There is only one person to whom I would wish
to explain the reason of my not appearing sooner, because he will
probably know of the arrival in Penzance this morning of the conveyance
that brought me to Cornwall."
"And who may that be?" demanded Jim Cuttance.
"My uncle, Thomas Donnithorne of St. Just," said Oliver.
"Whew!" whistled the fisherman in surprise, while all the others burst
into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Why do you laugh?" asked Oliver.
"Oh, never mind, sur, it's all right," said the man with a chuckle.
"Iss, you may tell Thomas Donnithorne; there won't be no harm in tellin'
he--oh, dear no!"
Again the men laughed loud and long, and Oliver felt his powers of
forbearance giving way, when Cuttance said to him: "An' you may tell all
his friends too, for they're the right sort. Come now, Maggot here will
show 'ee the way up to St. Just."
So saying, the stout fisherman conducted the young surgeon to the mouth
of the cavern, and shaking hands with him left him to the guidance of
the man named Maggot, who led him through several lanes, until he
reached the highroad between Sennen church-town and St. Just. Here he
paused; told his companion to proceed straight on for about four miles
or so, when he would reach the town, and bade him good-night.
"And mind 'ee, don't go off the road, sur," shouted Maggot, a few
seconds after the young man had left him, "if 'ee don't want to fall
down a shaft and scat your skull."
Oliver, not having any desire to scat his skull, whatever that might be,
assured the man that he would keep to the road carefully.
The moon shone clear in a cloudless sky, covering the wide moor and the
broad Atlantic with a flood of silver light, and rendering the road
quite distinct, so that our traveller experienced no further difficulty
in pursuing his way. He hurried forward at a rapid pace, yet could not
resist the temptation to pause frequently and gaze in admiration on the
scene of desolate grandeur around him. On such occasions he found it
difficult to believe that the stirring events of the last few hours were
real. Indeed, if it had not been that there were certain uneasy
portions of his frame--the result of his recent encounter on the beach--
which afforded constant and convincing evidence that he was awake, he
would have been tempted to believe that the adventures of that day were
nothing more than a vivid dream.