CHAPTER VI

SQUIRE AND PARLIAMENTARIAN

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

Squire Vivian was riding at a smart pace on the solid roads. He was fond

of horse-back riding, but long ago, having given up riding after the

hounds, he was constrained to solace himself by daily trips over the

turnpike. This was not exercise, however. He must see his old friend,

Sir James Lanyan, about one or two things, and so, after a hasty lunch

and a word of instruction to the steward, he mounted his fast-pacing cob

and was off. His thoughts were not very pleasant as he started forth. He

was thinking of the conversation he had had with Parson Trant just a

short time before.

"The lad is guilty," he muttered, and then there was silence save for

the rapid hoof strokes.

"He shall smart for it. The traitor's cub!"

The squire compressed his lips and the frown on his ruddy features boded

ill to Ande Trembath. Then pleasant thoughts gained the upper hand. He

had reached the confines of his estate and the fields and woods of

Lanyan Hall stretched on either side of the highway. There were round

hillocks nodding like Indian chieftains with their proud headgear, downs

alive with cattle and sheep, farmhouses of stone--as short and thick-set

in appearance as the sturdy farmers that occupied them. Yes, thought

Squire Vivian, with a smile, these shall belong to Alice when she

marries young Richard. My Lady Alice sounds as good as any other name

with a Lady attached to it. The pleasant expression passed and a worried

look came in its place. He was thinking of the Parson's disapprobation

of young Richard. The vale was passed and Lanyan moor, as wild and

uninviting as his thoughts--Lanyan moor, a high rough land of a few

miles in extent, covered with a rank, rough grass, extended on either

side. Under the influence of his surroundings and pressed by his

thoughts, the squire spurred the cob into a gallop and after a few

minutes the gables and tower of Lanyan Hall greeted his vision. It was a

stately mansion, built partly in the Queen Anne style and partly in the

style of previous times, one side being built during the Crusades, of

Cornish moor-stone that lent a heavy warrior-like appearance to the

whole structure.

The owner, Sir James Lanyan, a son of that Lanyan whose agitation in

certain quarters of the government had produced the confiscation of the

Trembath estates, like his grandfather, had devoted considerable time to

politics and had been twice in Parliament; but failing of re-election he

had turned the strength of his ambitious mind to the rebuilding of his

fortunes, which were sadly shattered by the schemes and speculations of

his grandfather.

His grandfather, in cooperation with Sunderland, the Premier of that

time, had been unduly interested in the South Sea Bubble; but though

Sunderland cleared his skirts in the gigantic swindle, Sir James, Sr.,

was entrapped. His estates were heavily mortgaged and his private

fortune ruined. He died of a broken heart, bequeathing to Sir Richard,

Sr., his son, the ancestral hall and its liabilities.

Sir Richard, Sr., was a rogue, with very little ability. Casting about

by hook or crook to retrieve his father's reverses, he thought he saw an

opportunity in the reputed treason of Squire Andrew Trembath. His

covetous eye surveyed the rich farms and woods adjoining his own, and

so, with the outward reason of loyalty to King George, and the inward

hope of profit, he turned the keen eyes of government authorities upon

the matter.

The name of the Stuart and France were still to be dreaded. The first

tendency in that direction must be crushed and an example made. The fiat

went forth, the estates were confiscated, but Sir Richard, Sr., instead

of receiving them or even a money reward, received a flattering letter

from London, a ribbon of honour and a star. With a muttered oath he

flung the bauble from him and ground the letter under his heel. He knew

what all men were to know in time, that neither Newcastle nor Pitt were

as free-handed as Walpole.

The present Sir James, a son of Sir Richard, Sr., had inherited the

bold, daring, scheming ambition of his grandfather, and was in every way

superior to his father, Richard. At first, a great Parliament man, he

gradually lost power with the electors, or rather they lost interest in

him; then he turned his attention to the task in which both his father

and grandfather had laboured in vain.

On the day mentioned, the squire rode up the drive-way and with a sigh,

for the gallop had wearied him. He slipped from the saddle, gave the cob

into the hands of a servant, and mounting the veranda, raised the rapper

and sent a peal through the old house that speedily brought to the door

a footman, clad in green livery. By him he was ushered into the main

living room--a large hall, its walls curiously and artistically panelled

in wood. Here he reposed himself in a large armchair by the open

fireplace and awaited, musingly, the coming of Sir James.

Yes, thought the squire, a fine old place--a fine old place--and my

Allie will be one of the first of Cornwall. Then he mused on.

There was a sound of a soft tread on the floor behind him, and a smooth,

liquid baritone voice broke the reverie.

"Well, my old friend, so you have decided to return my call."

The squire almost leaped to his feet, for, lost in his thoughts, the

voice startled him.

"Zounds! Sir James, you come in like a spirit."

Perhaps there were not two men in the whole kingdom of such a contrast

as Sir James and the squire of Trembath Manor. The latter was a perfect

picture of the gentleman of the olden school. His hair, silvery white,

curled in ringlets over his forehead. His face was a sturdy English

one, smooth, round, rubicund and pleasant, and yet with a dignity

peculiarly its own. He was stoutly built and as he stood switching his

Wellington boots with his riding whip, a close student would say, "Here

is a man easily imposed upon, but when that imposture stood revealed

what a hot, indignant enemy he would make!"

Honesty, frankness, integrity, were stamped all over the old squire's

frame.

Sir James was just the opposite in many respects. He was tall, dark, and

sallow of countenance. A hooked nose, like the beak of an eagle,

overhung a mouth that was firm and thin-lipped. His eyes, that were the

strangest feature about him, were dark and had an unsteady, shifting

light in them. He was clad in the conventional broadcloth tail-coat and

trowsers of the same material. A man of the world, having felt the pulse

of national life, he was generally cool, calm, and self-possessed.

With the remark above mentioned, he came forward and his own pale, slim

hand was grasped by the strong, brown one of the squire.

"Welcome to Lanyan Hall. It is not often we have the pleasure of

entertaining such an old friend of the family; and how are all things at

the Manor? Mistress Alice, is she well?"

"My Allie is tolerable well, but of her--more anon. It is of other

matters, not so well, in which I want your advice."

"Ah--and what is wrong? The rents not paid, failure of your tin mine,

or has Midnight Jack been making some depredations on your hen roosts or

sheep-folds?"

"Well," rejoined the squire, as he once more seated himself beside the

fire, his friend having done likewise, "as to Wheal Whimble tin mine,

things are moving steadily, but the new shaft is costing a heap of

money. The rockmen dull six or seven jumpers before they can make much

of an impression in drilling a hole, and though they receive ten pounds

a foot, yet say they can't make a living. I don't see how I am going to

come out of it. As to rents, they have all been paid but Farmer

Samson's, but quite a few of his sheep were taken with the murrain, and

one must give a man a chance when he's honest."

"And about Midnight Jack?"

"As sturdy a knave as ever lived, but he and his gipsy band have left

the neighbourhood some time ago. I suspected him of stealing a sheep and

threatened to have him hanged if he showed nigh the place. He knows well

enough not to fool with me. I don't think we shall ever be annoyed with

him again. There has been, though, some unknown miscreant lurking around

the estate. I do not mind so much when a sheep is stolen, I can

reprimand a man and threaten him as I did Midnight Jack, but when

property is wilfully destroyed and faithful retainers killed--it is too

much," and the squire flushed, angrily.

"Why, there has been no murder?" said Sir James, startled out of his

ordinary self-possession.

"Aye, as good as a murder," rejoined the squire, and he related with

flushed countenance and angry voice the incidents of the morning.

The master of Lanyan Hall interrupted him midway by asking him to the

study, where they could talk at their leisure. They arose and passed

from the main hall to a side apartment fitted up in elaborate style.

There, surrounded by tomes of learning and every mark of ease and

comfort, the squire and his friend were soon discussing the former's

grievances and suspicions.

"Now, what I want to know is this, what does the law allow a man to do

in such circumstances? You, Sir James, are well versed in law, have been

to Parliament and can advise me. I confess I cannot find anything about

it in the statutes."

"Well, the only thing you can do, having nothing but suspicion, is to

have a private interview with the lad and worm a confession out of him,"

said Sir James, and there was a scarcely perceptible little smile of

amusement that lingered around the lips of Lanyan.

"I am pleased to find out that I have acted wisely, for that was exactly

my plan," said the squire, flushing with gratified vanity to think that

his views and the learned parliamentarian's coincided. "And now what are

your plans for reelection to Parliament?"

"Reelection. Plans--none at all, friend Vivian."

"Why, you are certainly going to stand for the section, are you not?"

"No, I think not; my interest is not strong enough with the classes. To

tell the truth, squire, I am heartily disgusted with Tory principles,

and were it not for the name I would become a Liberal."

"What! what!" said the squire aghast; "you jest, Sir James!"

"Jest! Not at all. It is this way. It matters not what talents a person

may possess, he must stand in with a few of one's brother notables

before election is possible. Our elections are nothing but a humbug. We

have no representative house; the House of Commons does not represent

the nation."

"Why, Sir James, you did not talk this way formerly, and I am

exceedingly sorry to see one of our most distinguished parliamentarians

so inveterately opposed to the system."

The master of Lanyan Hall said nothing in reply. Indeed he was inwardly

debating with himself how far he should trust his honest friend with his

own plans and schemes. The fact was that Sir James had lost his

influence with the electors and saw no hope but in an extended

franchise; he was politician enough to see that the times were getting

riper and riper for reform. There was more hope of election for him in

the future than at the present; he must bide his time. Now it was not

any great affection for the people that induced him to take this stand.

His political creed was James Lanyan--how can he become great and

powerful, a creed dominant among politicians of all times.

"Well, we must talk of that more anon. There is another matter pressing

on my mind," said the squire, and with a little reluctance he began the

topic. "Young Master Richard has been paying some attentions to my

Allie, and it is a matter that we fathers ought to talk about. There is

nothing dearer to my life than my Allie, and I am anxious to see her

settled in life before I leave the earth; but then you, Sir James, and I

ought to have some understanding before matters go any farther. Our

estates lie adjoining. What better thing than that they should be united

after you and I pass away. I thought it better, though, to speak to you,

so that we might have a clear understanding." The old squire fastened

his clear, honest eyes on the master of Lanyan. The latter was silent

and there was a gleam in the shifty light of his eyes as he thought.

Then he spoke.

"A good thing, no doubt, if there are no objections on your part."

The master of Lanyan stretched out his hand which was grasped heartily

by the squire.

"It's a compact," said the former.

"Aye, a compact," affirmed the latter.

There was a tap at the door and a servant entered to announce tea in the

hall. Squire and parliamentarian adjourned their informal meeting and

emerged from the study.

[Illustration: "It's a compact," said the former.]

Ande Trembath: A Tale of Old Cornwall England · 第 6 / 32 章