Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts Part 12

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It seems she was a foreign lady of birth, bearing letters commendatory to the Court of Lisbon."

"That was his story of it," Master Porson a.s.sented. "I was below and busy with the cargo at the time, and knew nothing of her presence on board until we had cleared the harbour."

"And at this moment she is a guest of Mr. Milliton's at Pengersick?"

pursued Sir Nicholas, still with his eyes upon mine. I bowed, feeling mightily uneasy. "It is most necessary that I should take her evidence--and Mr. Milliton's. In all the statements received by me Mr. Milliton bears no small part: his house lies at no distance from Gunwallo Cove: and I have heard much of your Cornish courtesy.

It appears to me singular, therefore, that although I have been these four days in his neighbourhood no invitation has reached me to visit his house and have audience with him: and it argues small courtesy that on coming here to-day in full expectation of seeing him, I should be fobbed off with a deputy."

"Though but a deputy," I protested, "I have my Master's entire confidence."

"No doubt," said he drily. "But it would be more to the point if you had mine. It is imperative that I see Mr. Milliton of Pengersick and hear his evidence, as also this Lady Alicia's: and you may bear him my respects and say that I intend to call upon him to-morrow."

I bowed. It was all I could do: since the truth (for different reasons) could neither be told to him nor to the others. And the truth was that for two days my Master and the strange lady had not been seen at Pengersick! They had vanished, and two horses with them: but when and how I neither knew nor dared push inquiries to discover. Only the porter could have told me had he chosen; but when I questioned him he looked cunning, shook his head, and as good as hinted that I would be wiser to question n.o.body, but go about my business as if I shared the secret.

And so I did, imitating the porter's manner even before Dame Tresize, the housekeeper. But it rankled that, even while instructing me--as he did on the eve of his departing--in the part I was to play at Clowance, my Master had chosen to shut me out of this part of his confidence.

And now on the road home from Clowance I carried an anxious heart as well as a sore. To tell the truth--that my Master was away--I had not been able, knowing how prompt Saint Aubyn and G.o.dolphin might be to take the advantage and pay us an unwelcome visit. "And indeed," thought I, "if my Master hides one thing from me, why not another? The stuff may indeed be stored with us: though I will not believe it without proof."

The Commissioner would come, beyond a doubt. To discover my Master's absence would quicken his suspicions: to deny him admittance would confirm them.

I reached home, yet could get no sleep for my quandary. But a little before the dawning, while I did on my clothes, there came a knocking at the gate followed by a clatter of hoofs in the courtyard; and hurrying down, with but pause to light my lantern, I found my Master there and helping the strange lady to dismount, with the porter and two sleepy grooms standing by and holding torches. Beneath the belly of the lady's horse stood her hound, his tongue lolling and his coat a cake of mire.

The night had been chilly and the nostrils of the hard-ridden beasts made a steam among the lights we held, while above us the upper frontage of the house stood out clear between the growing daylight and the waning moon poised above the courtlege-wall in the south-west.

"Hey! Is that Paschal?" My Master turned as one stiff with riding.

His face was ghastly pale, yet full of a sort of happiness: and I saw that his clothes were disordered and his boots mired to their tops.

"Good luck!" cried he, handing the lady down. "We can have supper at once."

"Supper?" I repeated it after him.

"Or breakfast--which you choose. Have the lights lit in the hall, and a table spread. My lady will eat and drink before going to her room."

"'My lady'?" was my echo again.

"Just so--my lady, and my wife, and henceforward your Mistress.

Lead the way, if you please! Afterwards I will talk."

I did as I was ordered: lit the lights about the dais, spread the cloth with my own hands, fetched forth the cold meats and--for he would have no servants aroused--waited upon them in silence and poured the wine, all in a whirl of mind. My Mistress (as I must now call her) showed no fatigue, though her skirts were soiled as if they had been dragged through a sea of mud. Her eyes sparkled and her bosom heaved as she watched my Master, who ate greedily. But beyond the gallant words with which he pledged her welcome home to Pengersick nothing was said until, his hunger put away, he pushed back his chair and commanded me to tell what had happened at Clowance: which I did, pointing out the ticklish posture of affairs, and that for a certainty the Commissioner might be looked for in within a few hours.

"Well," said my Master, "I see no harm in his coming, nor any profit.

The goods are not with us: never were with us: and there's the end of it."

But I was looking from him to my Mistress, who with bent brows sat studying the table before her.

"Master Paschal," said she after a while, as one awaking from thought, "has done his business zealously and well. I will go to my room now and rest: but let me be aroused when this visitor comes, for I believe that I can deal with him." And she rose and walked away to the stair, with the hound at her heels.

A little later I saw my Master to his room: and after that had some hours of leisure in which to fret my mind as well over what had happened as what was likely to. It was hard on noon when the Commissioner arrived: and with him Master Porson. I led them at once to the hall and, setting wine before them, sent to learn when my Master and Mistress would be pleased to give audience. The lady came down almost at once, looking very rosy and fresh. She held a packet of papers, and having saluted the Commissioner graciously, motioned me to seat myself at the table with paper and pen.

Sir Nicholas began with some question touching her business on board the _Saint Andrew_: and in answer she drew a paper from the top of her packet. It was spotted with sea-water, but (as I could see) yet legible. The Commissioner studied it, showed it to Master Porson (who nodded), and handing it back politely, begged her for some particulars concerning the wreck.

Upon this she told the story clearly and simply. There had been a three days' tempest: the s.h.i.+p had gone ash.o.r.e in such and such a manner: a great part of the cargo had undoubtedly been landed. It was on the beach when she had left it under conduct of Mr. Milliton, who had shown her great kindness. On whomsoever its disappearance might be charged, of her host's innocence she could speak.

My Master appearing just now saluted the Commissioner and gave his version very readily.

"You may search my cellars," he wound up, "and, if you please, interrogate my servants. My livery is known by everyone in this neighbourhood to be purple and tawny. The seamen can tell you if any of their a.s.sailants wore these colours."

"They a.s.sure me," said Sir Nicholas, "that the night was too dark for them to observe colours: and for that matter to disguise them would have been a natural precaution. There was a wounded man brought to your house--one Gil Perez, the boatswain."

"He is dead, as you doubtless know, of a bite received from this lady's hound as he was attacking her with a knife."

"But why, madam"--the factor turned to my Mistress--"should this man have attacked you?"

She appeared to be expecting this question, and drew from her packet a second paper, which she unfolded quietly and spread on the table, yet kept her palm over the writing on it while she answered, "Those who engage upon missions of State must look to meet with attacks, but not to be asked to explain them. The mob at Dunquerque pursued me upon a ridiculous charge, yet was wisely incited by men who invented it, knowing the true purpose of my mission." She glanced from the Commissioner to Master Porson. "Sir Nicholas Fleming--surely I have heard his name spoken, as of a good friend to the Holy Father and not too anxious for the Emperor's marriage with Mary Tudor?"

The Commissioner started in his chair, while she turned serenely upon his companion. "And Master Porson," she continued, "as a faithful servant of His Majesty of Portugal will needs be glad to see a princess of Portugal take Mary Tudor's place. Eh?"--for they were eyeing each the other like two detected schoolboys--"It would seem, sirs, that though you came together, you were better friends than you guessed.

Glance your eye, Master Porson, over this paper which I shall presently entrust to you for furtherance; and you will agree with Sir Nicholas that the prudent course for both of you is to forget, on leaving this house, that any such person as I was on board the _Saint Andrew._"

The two peered into the parchment and drew back. "The Emperor--" I heard the Commissioner mutter with an intake of breath.

"And, as you perceive, in his own handwriting." She folded up the paper and, replacing it, addressed my Master. "Your visitors, sir, deserve some refreshment for their pains and courtesy."

And that was the end of the conference. What that paper contained I know as little as I know by what infernal sorcery it was prepared.

Master Porson folded it up tight in his hand, glancing dubiously at Sir Nicholas. My lady stood smiling upon the both for a moment, then dismissed me to the kitchens upon a pretended errand. They were gone when I returned, nor did I again set eyes upon the Commissioner or the factor. It is true that the Emperor did about this time break his pledge with our King Henry and marry a princess of Portugal; and some of high office in England were not sorry therefore. But of this enough.

As the days wore on and we heard no more of the wreck, my Master and Mistress settled down to that retirement from the world which is by custom allowed to the newly married, but which with them was to last to the end. A life of love it was; but--G.o.d help us!--no life of happiness; rather, in process of days, a life of torment. Can I tell you how it was? At first to see them together was like looking through a gla.s.s upon a picture; a picture gallant and beautiful yet removed behind a screen and not of this world. Suppose now that by little and little the gla.s.s began to be flawed, or the picture behind it to crumble (you could not tell which) until when it smiled it smiled wryly, until rocks toppled and figures fell askew, yet still kept up their pretence of play against the distorted woodland. Nay, it was worse than this: fifty times worse. For while the fair show tottered, my Master and Mistress clung to their love; and yet it was just their love which kept the foundations rocking.

They lived for each other. They neither visited nor received visits.

Yet they were often, and by degrees oftener, apart; my Master locked up with his books, my Mistress roaming the walls with her hound or seated by her lattice high on the seaward side of the castle. Sometimes (but this was usually on moonlit nights or windless evenings when the sun sank clear to view over our broad bay) she would take up her lute and touch it to one of those outlandish love-chants with which she had first wiled my Master's heart to her. As time went on, stories came to us that these chants, which fell so softly on the ears of us as we went about the rooms and gardens, had been heard by fishermen riding by their nets far in the offing--so far away (I have heard) as the Scillies; and there were tales of men who, as they listened, had seen the ghosts of drowned mariners rising and falling on the moon-rays, or floating with their white faces thrown back while they drank in the music; yea, even echoing the words of the song in whispers like the flutter of birds'

wings.

When first the word crept about that she was a witch I cannot certainly say. But in time it did; and, what is more--though I will swear that no word of Gil Perez' confession ever pa.s.sed my lips--the common folk soon held it for a certainty that the cargo saved from the _Saint Andrew_ had been saved by her magic only; that the plate and rich stuffs seen by my own eyes were but cheating _simulacra_, and had turned into rubbish at midnight, scarce an hour before the a.s.sault on the Portuguese.

I have wondered since if 'twas this rumour and some belief in it which held Messrs. Saint Aubyn and G.o.dolphin from offering any further attack on us. You might say that it was open to them, so believing, to have denounced her publicly. But in our country Holy Church had little hold--scarce more than the King's law itself in such matters; and within my memory it has always come easier to us to fear witch-craft than to denounce it. Also (and it concerns my tale) the three years which followed the stranding of the _Saint Andrew_ were remarkable for a great number of wrecks upon our coast. In that short time we of our parish and the men of St. Hilary upon our north were between us favoured with no fewer than fourteen; the most of them vessels of good burden. Of any hand in bringing them ash.o.r.e I know our gentry to have been innocent.

Still, there were pickings; and finding that my Master held aloof from all share in such and (as far as could be) held his servants aloof, our neighbours, though not accepting this for quittance, forbore to press the affair of the _Saint Andrew_ further than by spreading injurious tales and whispers.

The marvel was that we of Pengersick (who reaped nothing of this harvest) fell none the less under suspicion of decoying the vessels ash.o.r.e. More than once in my dealings with the fishermen and tradesmen of Market Jew, I happened on hints of this; but nothing which could be taken hold of until one day a certain Peter Chynoweth of that town, coming drunk to Pengersick with a basket of fish, blurted out the tale.

Said he, after I had beaten him down to a reasonable price, "Twould be easy enough, one would think, to spare an honest man a groat of the fortune Pengersick makes on these dark nights."

"Thou lying thief!" said I. "What new slander is this?"

"Come, come," says he, looking roguish; "that won't do for me that have seen the false light on Cuddan Point more times than I can count; and so has every fisherman in the bay."

Well, I kicked him through the gate for it, and flung his basket after him; but the tale could not be so dismissed. "It may be," thought I, "some one of Pengersick has engaged upon this wickedness on his own account"; and for my Master's credit I resolved to keep watch.

I took therefore the porter into my secret, who agreed to let me through the gate towards midnight without telling a soul. I took a sheepskin with me and a poignard for protection; and for a week, from midnight to dawn, I played sentinel on Cuddan Point, walking to and fro, or stretched under the lee of a rock whence I could not miss any light shown on the headland, if Peter Chynoweth's tale held any truth.

By the eighth trial I had pretty well made up my mind (and without astonishment) that Peter Chynoweth was a liar. But scarcely had I reached my post that night when, turning, I descried a radiance as of a lantern, following me at some fifty paces. On the instant I gripped my poignard and stepped behind a boulder. The light drew nearer, came, and pa.s.sed me. To my bewilderment it was no lantern, but an open flame, running close along the turf and too low for anyone to be carrying it: nor was the motion that of a light which a man carries.

Moreover, though it pa.s.sed me within half-a-dozen yards and lit up the stone I stood behind, I saw n.o.body and heard no footstep, though the wind (which was south-westerly) blew from it to me. In this breeze the flame quivered, though not violently but as it were a ball of fire rolling with a flickering crest.

It went by, and I followed it at something above walking pace until upon the very verge of the head-land, where I had no will to risk my neck, it halted and began to be heaved up and down much like the p.o.o.p-light of a vessel at sea. In this play it continued for an hour at least; then it came steadily back towards me by the way it had gone, and as it came I ran upon it with my dagger. But it slipped by me, travelling at speed towards the mainland; whither I pelted after it hot-foot, and so across the fields towards Pengersick. Strain as I might, I could not overtake it; yet contrived to keep it within view, and so well that I was bare a hundred yards behind when it came under the black shadow of the castle and without pause glided across the dry moat and so up the face of the wall to my lady's window, which there overhung. And into this window it pa.s.sed before my very eyes and vanished.

I know not what emboldened me, but from the porter's lodge I went straight up to my Master's chamber, where (though the hour must have been two in the morning or thereabouts) a light was yet burning.

Also--but this had become ordinary--a smell of burning gums and herbs filled the pa.s.sage leading to his door. He opened to my knock, and stood before me in his dressing-gown of sables--a tall figure of a man and youthful, though already beginning to stoop. Over his shoulder I perceived the room swimming with coils of smoke which floated in their wreaths from a brazier hard by the fireplace.

Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts Part 12

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