About eight o'clock that same evening, while Tonkin was still conversing
with his intimates in the parlour of the Five Pilchards, a horseman rode
up to the house occupied by Mr. Polwhele on the south cliff. His seat
was not that of an accomplished equestrian, and his manner of
dismounting would have given some anxiety to anyone who had a regard for
him. The long cloak he wore, with the collar turned up almost to the
eyes, incommoded his legs, and only by clutching at his patient steed's
mane did he avoid a fall.
The house stood alone, and its solitary situation was a source of
satisfaction to the traveller. A light within, and a full moon without,
gave him a reasonable assurance that the riding-officer was at home.
Accordingly he hitched the bridle to a hook placed for that purpose in
the wall beside the door, and knocked. Mr. Polwhele was a bachelor, and
it happened that the woman who was housekeeper, cook, and housemaid in
one, had gone into the village, so that he opened the door himself.
"Well?" he said, peering at the close-wrapped figure that stood on the
threshold.
"'Tis I, Maister Polwhele," said the man, at the same time turning down
his collar.
"Doubledick!" exclaimed the astonished officer. "Well, of all the----!
You'd be safer in France, my man."
"Iss, maybe; but I be come home, and I'd like a word with 'ee, Maister."
"Well, there's no warrant out for your arrest, so I suppose you----;
yes, come in. I don't understand this at all."
Doubledick followed the riding-officer into the room where he had been
reading. He carefully shut the door behind him, offered Mr. Polwhele a
pinch of snuff, and took one himself, then sat down rather stiffly.
Half an hour later he emerged from the house, remounted his horse, and
rode away, not northward in the direction of his home, but eastward
along a bridle path across the moor. In a quarter of an hour, however,
he turned to the left, skirted the village, passing about midway between
it and the church, and continued for some time in the same direction.
Then once more he struck to the left and came by-and-by to the
high-road, at a point between the Towers and the Dower House. He turned
into the drive leading to the latter, but instead of reining up at the
front entrance, he passed round the house to the back, and having again
awkwardly dismounted, he rapped on the kitchen door.
"Oh, 'tis you, Maister Doubledick," said Susan, when she opened to him.
"Folks said you'd gone away."
"So I had, my dear; but I be back-along, as you can see wi' yer pretty
eyes. Now tell me, be the Maister to home?"
"Yes, he be in his room, rayther poorly."
"And be he alone?"
"Yes, but 'tis not for long, folks say. We'll have a mistress afore
long, and i hope she be likeable, that I do."
"Well, now, that's new news, to be sure. And who be the woman?"
"She bean't 'zackly a woman. 'Tis Sir Bevil's darter, seemingly, and
she be a maid younger nor I, they say."
"So she be, to be sure. Dear life! And I never heerd o't. Here's a
shillin' for your news, to buy 'ee a fairin'."
"Thank 'ee, Maister Doubledick, but I shan't need un for a fairin'. I'm
to have a fine gown o' silk, only think o't!"
"A present from Maister John, I s'pose?"
"No; 'tis to be from Sam Pollex, that young boy as lives up at Towers.
Didn't 'ee know what a treasure he found?"
"What was it, my dear?"
"Why, he and young Squire were rummagin' in some cave yonder--I don't
know 'zackly wheer--and they come upon boxes full o' silks and satins,
all the colours o' the rainbow. Young Sam be goin' to gie me enough for
a gown--a kind young feller, that he is."
"Well, then, if ye don't mind, my dear, I'll take back that shillin',
seein' as ye're so well purvided, and gie 'ee a groat instead. Bean't
no good to waste money, be it? And now, will 'ee tell yer maister I be
come for a word wi' un?"
Susan went away with a cloud upon her face.
"Maister will see 'ee," she said when she returned. "Take yer groat,
Maister Doubledick; some day ye may need it more nor I."
Doubledick pocketed the coin with a chuckle, and followed her along the
passage to her master's room.
"This is amazing, Doubledick," cried Trevanion, when the door was shut.
"I never expected to see you again."
"Hee! hee! Rusco bean't fitty for everyone, Maister John," replied the
innkeeper, with a meaning look. "Ye be took bad, the maidy says."
"Oh, 'tis nothing but a fit of the dismals. How in the world did you
get away?"
"It do seem a miracle to 'ee, I s'pose. Why, fust man I seed when they
put me on quay was a old friend o' yourn--leastways, 'a used to be sech.
He be a good friend o' mine, too, 'cos I did un a good turn a while ago.
He don't speak our Christian tongue very well, poor soul, but I made un
understand a mistake had been made wi' me, and he showed his true
friendship by bringing me over to Megavissey. I rid over from there,
and plaguey stiff I be in the jints."
"But you're in great danger; don't you know that? You made a terrible
bungle of the job, my man."
"True, but them above had a finger in it. I bean't sorry as I've seed
Rusco, not I. And as to danger, well, Maister John, I'll speak to 'ee
as a friend. The feller I named--no, to be sure, I didn' name un, but
'tis all one--the Frenchy do seem to be mizzy-mazy in his head. He
telled to I of a feller called Robinson, and seemed to have got it in
his furrin noddle that 'twas the same name as Trevanion, or fust cousin
to 't. He axed a tarrible lot of questions about un, wheer he lived,
and what he did wi's days and nights, and seemed to I as if he'd got a
rod in pickle for un. Jown me if I didn' think 'a wanted to make a call
on this Robinson feller, and 'ud be tarrible wisht if 'a didn' find un
to home."
Doubledick kept his eyes fixed upon Trevanion's face, but if he had
expected to see any sign of uneasiness, he was disappointed.
"I take no interest in your friend or what he wants," said Trevanion.
"I am more concerned about you, Doubledick. You're not safe here, you
know."
"That's what I've come to see 'ee about," returned the innkeeper. "But
truly I be a bufflehead; I ought to ha' named un to 'ee, in course I
ought. His name is Delarousse, Maister. And to tell 'ee the truth,
thinkin' he was a bit over coorious in the questions he axed, I telled
un a thing or two as wer a trifle crooked, I did. I telled un how this
Maister Trevanion as he thought was Robinson was often away from home,
and how 'a dwelt in a big house on the cliff called the Towers. He axed
I if the Towers was near the top of a hill, and I telled un 'twas a
goodish bit away, Maister Robinson--Trevanion, I mean--havin' come into
the property. Thinks I to myself, if he comes to Polkerran one fine day
a-caprousin' and makin' a stoor, 't'ud be just as well he went up-along
to Towers and showed his tantrums to the cussed folk theer. What do 'ee
say to that, Maister John?"
"You are talking a deal of nonsense, Doubledick," was the answer.
"Don't you understand that as soon as 'tis known you are back in the
village you'll be arrested for kidnapping Penwarden?"
"Oh, ay, that's what they say, is it? But don't 'ee think, now, we
could persuade the officers o' the law to leave me bide?"
"Quite impossible. Penwarden and my young cousin will swear to you, and
there has been such a stir about the matter that Sir Bevil or the Vicar
will sign the warrant the moment they hear of your arrival."
"Maybe. But money do make the mare to go, Maister, and seems to I, if
so be you'd help, we med put a clapper on evil-speakin' tongues.
A-course 't 'ud need a pretty big sum to do it proper, but theer, what's
that to 'ee, rollin' in money as you be? And I know well ye'll put yer
hand in pocket to help a poor feller in a quag, purticler as he've done
summat for 'ee, in Polkerran and Rusco both."
"I'll be hanged if I do," cried Trevanion, at last shaken out of his
composure. "You made a wretched bungle of a simple job, and you'll have
to take the consequences."
"Good now! I like to hear a man speak fine and brave, but I hev a brave
mouth-speech o' my own." Doubledick's tone was as smooth and
deferential as it had been throughout the conversation, but an onlooker
might now have observed that he was beginning to show his teeth. "Zacky
Tonkin, now," he proceeded: "I reckon he'd be fain to know why
Delarousse warn't no longer the feller to do trade with: that bit o'
knowledge med be worth payin' for. And Sir Bevil: iss sure, his darter
be a nesh young female----"
"Confound you! What do you mean by that?" cried Trevanion.
"Ah! little small birds do carr' little small seeds, they do. High
persons like Sir Bevil be mighty purticler when 'tis question o' lawful
matrimony."
Trevanion, red with anger, rose from his chair and came towards
Doubledick threateningly.
"Ah! dear life!" continued the innkeeper, unflinchingly, "and there be
Mounseer Delarousse, too, thankful for what I done for him. It did vex
me tarrible to mizzle un; but a word can put that right, and let un know
the true dwellin' o' that coorious feller Robinson. In course his
grudge agen Robinson bean't nothing to I, but he do seem tarrible sour
and rampageous. Howsomever, let every man fight his own battles. Now
I'll go home-along, and I wish 'ee well, Maister."
He rose, took his hat, and moved towards the door.
Trevanion looked after him for a moment irresolutely, then stretched his
hand towards the bell-rope.
"Stay, Doubledick," he said, "you must take a thimbleful before you go."
"Not for me, Maister," replied the innkeeper, with a virtuous expression
of countenance.
"Nonsense, man. It won't poison you. You have read me quite wrongly,
my friend. Did ever a man take offence so easily! You've come badly
out of my little test, but I'll overlook it. I've a deal more patience
than you.... Susan, bring the decanter and glasses. Hot, Doubledick?"
"Well, I don't mind if it be, this chilly night. But 'tis gettin'
latish; it must be only a nibleykin, Maister."
"Now, Doubledick," said Trevanion, as they sipped their liquor, "I'm not
the man to refuse to help a friend, even if he shows himself only a
fair-weather friend after all."
"I knowed it," cried Doubledick heartily. "A little small voice inside
telled me ye were only a-tryin' me, and 'ud show yerself in yer natural
true colour at last. Well, Maister, ten pound won't do it; no, King's
servants do hev high notions, be-jowned to 'em. Twenty? I be afeard it
wouldn' go far. 'Tis well to do a thing handsome when 'tis to be done.
Fifty? Iss, a man can do summat wi' fifty. Fifty pound 'll keep a
many tongues quiet, and I'll be dazed if I don't snap my fingers at
justices, sheriffs, hangmen, and constables, if I do hev fifty pound to
my hand."
Trevanion rose and went to a cabinet in a corner of the room. Unlocking
it, he opened a drawer, standing with his back to Doubledick. There was
a sound of rustling paper.
"'Tis a monstrous sum," he said, half turning.
"Ah, 'tis, to be sure," said Doubledick feelingly, "but King's officers
do hev' a tarrible big swaller."
"Well, here you are," said Trevanion, recrossing the room. "I'm not the
man to refuse a friend."
"So ye said afore. Thank 'ee. 'Tis atween us two, in course; my mouth
is shet. But there's another thing, Maister. Did 'ee know as old Joe
and young Dick brought a heap o' silks and satins out o' the old mine?"
"The deuce they did!" cried Trevanion in astonishment. "Where did they
get them from?"
"That I can't say. But old mine do belong to 'ee, surely."
"It does. Whatever they have found is my property. How do you know
this, Doubledick?"
"The little small birds, Maister. Well, I've telled 'ee for yer good."
"I'll not forget it. Egad, they shall hear from me."
When Doubledick left the house a few minutes later, he carried the
bundle of crisp white notes snug in his breast-pocket. He said good-bye
very cordially to his host, and, mounting his horse, rode boldly along
the highway and down the hill to the inn.
Most of the smugglers had returned to their homes, but Tonkin, Nathan
Pendry, and one or two more still remained in the inn-parlour, with
their legs stretched out towards a genial fire, their long churchwarden
pipes filling the room with clouds of smoke. Mrs. Doubledick had gone
to bed. No other visitors were to be expected at this hour, and the
company would let themselves out at their own time. The woman was torn
between hope and fear. Tonkin had learnt in Roscoff that Doubledick had
left with Delarousse; and Mrs. Doubledick was relieved to know that her
husband had escaped the miseries of confinement in a French prison; but
she was troubled lest he should fall into equally rigorous hands at
home.
Doubledick entered the room quietly.
"Well, neighbours all," he said behind their backs, "a man's home be the
fittiest place for un, I b'lieve."
The men sprang up in amazement, grasped his hand, smote him on the back.
"What did I tell 'ee!" said Tonkin. "Didn' I say neighbour Doubledick
was a clever feller, and 't 'ud take a deal o' cleverness to get over
he?"
"Ye did, there's no denyin' it," said Simon Mail. "Ah, neighbour
Doubledick, you was born wi' noble intellects."
"But you be a terrible bold feller," said Pendry. "There'll be a warrant
out for 'ee, and ye'll be carr'd to Trura jail, as sure as I be alive."
"If 'tis to be, 'tis; and rayther would I be jailed in Cornwall than in
France," replied Doubledick. "But I won't be jailed nowheer, I b'lieve,
and I'll tell 'ee why. Theer was only two as seed me--Joe Penwarden and
the young tom-holla at the Towers. Well, they dussn't swear to me."
"Why not, neighbour?" said Pendry.
"Because they been up to jiggery theirselves, hee, hee!"
"Speak yer meanin' plain, for the sake o' poor simple I," said Mail.
"Hee, hee! I mind I telled old Joe he'd hev to answer for pickin' and
stealin', and so 'a woll. Do 'ee know, neighbours, they brought out o'
well a noble store o' raiment, purple and fine linen, as pa'son says?"
"Never!" ejaculated Pendry and Mail together, Tonkin smoking in silence.
"Iss, 'tis true as Gospel. They brought out silks and satins and who
knows what all, and look 'ee, friends, that be thievin'!"
"I don't know about that," said Tonkin.
"But I do know," said Doubledick positively. "We hain't used the well
for ten year, we all do know that. Last time 'twas only 'bacca and
brandy--not a bale o' silk or passel o' lace. Well, then, this stuff
bein' buried in the earth, or we'd ha' found it, I reckon it had been
theer ever since the landfall, hunderds o' years ago, in yer grandfer's
days, Zacky. See then, the true owner o't, arter all this time, be the
owner o' the land, and that's Maister John--would ha' been Squire till
three months ago. Hee, hee! They ha' stole Maister John's proputty."
"I've heerd tell o' what clever folks call treasure trove," said Mail,
"and that belongs to King Jarge."
"King Jarge ha' got quite as much as he can do with up-along to Lunnon,"
said Doubledick, "and I don't care who the man is, they silks and satins
do belong now to Maister John. Well, do 'ee think they wicked robbers
will hev the impedence to swear agen a honest free-trader like me?
They'll never do it. Maister John will claim the goods and threaten 'em
wi' the law, and that'll be enough to keep their mouths shet, trust me."
"How did this wonderful bit o' knowledge come to 'ee neighbour, you
bein' away and all?" asked Mail.
"Ah! little birds, Simon, little small birds," replied Doubledick with a
knowing look.
"Then maybe you do know another 'mazin' bit o' news," said Pendry.
"Maybe I do. Tell to me, and then I'll tell 'ee."
"Why, young Squire this very day did save young Jake from bein'
drownded, didn' he, Zacky?"
"Iss, fay," said Tonkin, "and I went up-along to-night to say thank 'ee,
as a true Cornishman oughted. And I tell 'ee what, friend, we been all
wrong about Squire informin' and all that. I axed un plain, man to man,
and he telled me I oughter be ashamed to think sech a thing, and I
believe un."
"But did he deny it?" asked the innkeeper.
"Well, no, I couldn' go so far as to say that."
"Ah, Zacky, you be a simple plum-baked feller, to be sure. Ye don't
know the windin's and twistin's o' these high gentry. Plain simple
souls like 'ee don't know what eddication do for a man. That young whelp
of Squire's do go to pa'son and larn all the wisdom and cleverness of
ancient men of old; 'a can twist 'ee round his finger, I b'lieve."
Tonkin looked troubled. Doubledick had such a reputation for
knowingness that his opinion carried weight.
"Well, time will show," said Tonkin. "I tell 'ee one thing, that I
won't hev a hand no more in anything agen Squire, not till I do know
sartin-sure. What do 'ee say, Nathan?"
"Iss, I say the same. Let's be sartin-sure, that's what I say," replied
Pendry.
Doubledick puffed his scorn of such simple-mindedness.
"Well, I be tired, neighbours," he said. "Riding a-hoss-back from
Megavissey hev well-nigh scat me in jowds" (by which he meant, broken
him in pieces), "and I yearn for my bed. We'll see what we will see, I
b'lieve."
The company broke up. The fishers went their way; Doubledick closed the
door behind them, and raked out the fire. Before he ascended to his
bedroom he locked his bundle of banknotes in a strong box which he kept
under the stairs, and might have been heard chuckling gleefully.
Next morning the inn was early besieged by a crowd of fishers who had
heard of Doubledick's return, and were agog to learn all the
circumstances from his own lips. A little later the newly-imported
miners arrived, and, later still, as the news travelled farther,
farmers, millers, and dairymen flocked into the village. Doubledick
rubbed his hands with glee at the trade he was doing. Except to his
intimates, he explained very little. To the questions of the others he
replied only by nods and winks, and they at last ceased to interrogate
him, remarking one to another that he was a real knowing one; nobody
could get round him; "a wonderful feller, truly, for see how soon he hev
slipped away from France, wheer many a good man hev rotted in prison
since these 'nation wars began."
There were many who expected that before the day was out Doubledick
would be arrested and carried before Sir Bevil, and a throng of idlers
hung about the inn in anticipation of this exciting event. But no
constable, soldier, or sheriff's officer appeared, and at nightfall the
innkeeper's reputation was higher than ever.
Two men believed that they knew the reason of the authorities'
forbearance. John Trevanion fondly supposed that the banknotes with
which he had parted had found their way into the pockets of Mr. Mildmay,
Mr. Polwhele, and Joe Penwarden. In those days the bribery of revenue
officers was not infrequent. Tonkin, on the other hand, suspected that
the Squire had persuaded Penwarden not to prosecute, in order to
consolidate the better feeling between the village and the Towers to
which Dick's rescue of Jake had given birth. The actual reason was
known to four men alone: the revenue officers, Penwarden, and Doubledick
himself.
About midday Sam Pollex came rushing up to the Towers from the village
with the news of Doubledick's return.
"Nonsense," said Dick; "he wouldn't dare show his face again."
"Name it all, Maister, didn' I see un with my own eyes?" cried Sam.
"There he be, down-along at his kiddly-wink, more bustious nor ever, or
may I never speak again."
Dick hastened instantly to the little white cottage on the cliff, where
Penwarden had again taken up his abode.
"Joe," he cried, bursting in like a whirlwind, "Doubledick is back!
Come with me to the Parsonage; we'll get a warrant for his arrest."
Penwarden was eating his dinner. He conveyed a piece of fish to his
mouth without showing any sign of surprise.
"Back, is he?" he said. "Ah, well! Rusco warn't good for his health,
seemingly."
"It would suit him better than Truro jail. Come along; there's just
time to get to the Parsonage and back before my dinner."
"Not for a old ancient feller like me."
"Well, I'll go alone then; but they'll want two witnesses, I believe,
before any justice will commit him."
"They will, I believe, but I won't be one. No, I couldn' bring myself
to 't."
"What on earth do you mean?" cried Dick in amazement. "'Tis your duty
to bring the villain to justice."
"Villain he is, and I'd crack his skull as soon as look at him. But as
to duty--I knows my duty, Maister Dick, and my duty is to let un bide.
Besides, never could I face the stoor of appearin' in a court o'
justice. Theer'd be lawyer fellers in wigs and gowns, axin' me this,
that, and t'other till I wouldn' know whether I pitched on my head or my
heels. But I'd fain fetch un a crack on the nuddick, so as 'a couldn'
stir for a fortnight."
"Oh, well, of course 'tis your business," said Dick, somewhat offended.
"If you don't prosecute him, I suppose he'll go free. 'Tis no concern
of mine."
And he returned to the Towers, and told his father that old Joe hadn't
so much spirit as he thought.
Two hours before, Penwarden had received a visit from Mr. Mildmay and
Mr. Polwhele. When they informed him that Doubledick had returned, he
started up, seized his hat, and declared with great vehemence that he
would go straight along to the Parsonage and get Mr. Carlyon's warrant
for the villain's arrest. The revenue officers had much ado to appease
him, and only when Mr. Mildmay made a strong appeal to his sense of duty
as an old Navy man did he agree to the inactive course proposed.
"If 'tis a matter of duty to the King, as ye say, sir," he remarked, "I
reckon I do know my duty as well as any man. Hain't I served with Lord
Admiral Rodney? Not a man of us but did what he bid at once, or he'd
ha' knowed what for. Did I ever tell 'ee how the Lord Admiral spoke to
me special one day?"
"Well now, let me see," said Mr. Mildmay, who had heard the story a
score of times. "Did you ever hear it, Polwhele?"
"In Jamaica, wasn't it, Joe?" said the riding-officer, who having been
on the coast ten times as long as Mr. Mildmay, had probably heard the
story ten times as often.
"No, 'twas on Plymouth Hoe, sir. I was cruisin' theer one day when who
should I see beatin' up but Lord Admiral Rodney, convoyin' two handsome
females--ah! as clippin' craft as ever I seed. While I was standin' by,
all of a sudden he put up his helm and steered right across my bows.
'Get out of the way, you cross-eyed son of a sea-cook!' says he, and the
two females laughed like a brook in June. Ah! 'tidn' every common
mariner as could say he'd been spoke to special by sech a fine
man-o'-war as Lord Admiral Rodney."
"You're right, Joe," said Mr. Mildmay. "No admiral at all, let alone a
great man like Rodney, ever spoke to me, worse luck. Well then, you'll
let matters rest, old fellow, and you won't be sorry for it."
"But I may crack un over the skull if he gets in my way, I s'pose?"
"Well, yes, but not too hard; dead men tell no tales, you know."
"I'll mind o' that, and not gie un a whole broadside. Dear life! What a
mix-up of a world it is, to be sure?"