The King's General Part 31

Cornish soil. It lasted but a week, but for those who died and suffered it lasted for eternity. The battles were west of Truro, so we at Menabilly smelt no powder; but every road and every lane was guarded, and not even the servants ventured out of doors.

That first evening a company of soldiers, under the command of Colonel Robert Bennett, our old neighbour near to Looe, rode to Menabilly and made a perfunctory search throughout the house, finding no one present but myself and Gartred. He little knew that had he come ten minutes earlier he would have found the greatest prize of all.

I can see Richard now, his arms folded, seated in the dining chamber with the empty chairs about him, deaf to all my pleading.

"When they come," he said, "they shall take me as I am. Mine is the blame. I am the man for whom my friends now suffer. Very well then. Let them do their worst upon me, and by surrendering my person I may yet save Cornwall from destruction!"

Gartred, with all her old cool composure back again, shrugged her shoulders in disdain. "Is it not a little late now in the day to play the martyr?" she suggested. "What good will your surrender do at this juncture? You flatter yourself, poor Richard, if you think the mere holding of a Grenvile will spare the rest from imprisonment and death .I hate these last-minute gestures. These sublime salutes. Show yourself a man and escape, the pair of you, as Bunny did."

She did not look towards d.i.c.k. Nor did I. But he sat there, silent as ever, at his father's side.

"We will make fine figures on the scaffold, d.i.c.k and I," said Richard; "my neck is somewhat thicker, I know, than his, and may need two blows from the axe instead of one."

"You may not have the pleasure, nor the parade, of a martyr's execution," said Gartred, yawning, "but instead a knotted rope in a dank dungeon. Not the usual finish for a Grenvile."

"It were better," said Richard quietly, "if these two Grenviles did die in obscurity."

There was a pause then, for all our thoughts to stab the air, unspoken; and then d.i.c.k spoke, for the first time since that unforgettable moment in the gallery.

"How do we stand," he said jerkily, "with the Rashleighs? If my father and I are found here by the enemy, will it be possible to prove to them that the Rashleighs are innocent in the matter?"

I seized upon his words for all the world like a drowning woman.

"You have not thought of that," I said to Richard. "You have not considered for one moment what will become of them. Who will ever believe that Jonathan Rashleigh and John, too, were not party also to your plan? Their absence from Menabilly is no proof. They will be dragged into the matter, and my sister Mary also. Poor Alice at Trethurfe, Joan at Maddercombe, a legion of young children. They will all of them, from Jonathan in London to the baby on Joan's knee, suffer imprisonment, and maybe death into the bargain, if you are taken here."

It was at this moment that a servant came into the room, much agitated, his hands clasped before him.

"I think it best to tell you," he said, "a lad has come running across the park to say the troopers are gathered together at the top of Polmear Hill. Some have gone down toward Polkerris. The rest are making for Tregaminion and the park gates."

"Thank you," said Richard, bowing. "I am much obliged to you for your discretion."

The servant left the room, hoping, I dare say, to feign sickness in his quarters when the troopers came. Richard rose slowly to his feet and looked at me.

"So you fear for your Rashleighs?" he said. "And because of them you have no wish to throw me to the wolves? Very well then. For this once I will prove Accommodating. Where is the famous hiding palce that four years ago proved so beneficiai to us all?"

I saw d.i.c.k flinch and look away from me towards his father.

"d.i.c.k knows," I answered. "Would you condescend to share it with him?"

"A hunted rat," said Richard, "has no choice. He must take the companion that is thrust upon him."

Whether the place was rank with cobwebs, mould, or mildew, I neither knew nor cared. At least it would give concealment while the troopers came. And no one, not even Gartred, knew the secret.

"Do you remember," I said to d.i.c.k, "where the pa.s.sage led? I warn you, no one has been there for four years."

He nodded, deathly pale. And I wondered what bug of fear had seized him now, when but an hour ago he had offered himself, like a little lamb, for slaughter.

"Go, then," I said, "and take your father. Now, this instant, while there is still time."

He came to me then, his new-found courage wavering, looking so like the little boy who loved me once that my heart went out to him.

"The rope," he said, "the rope upon the hinge. What if it has frayed now, with disuse, and the hinge rusted?"

"It will not matter," I said. "You will not need to use it now. I shall not be waiting for you in the chamber overhead."

He stared at me, lost for a moment, dull, uncomprehending, and I verily believe that for one brief second he thought himself a child again. Then Richard broke the spell with his hard clear voice.

"Well?" he said. "If it must be done, this is the moment. There is no other method of escape."

d.i.c.k went on staring at me, and there came into his eyes a strange new look I had not seen before. Why did he stare at me thus, or was it not me he stared at but some other, some ghost of a dead past that tapped him on the shoulder?

"Yes,"he said slowly, "if it must be done, this is the moment...."He turned to his father, opening first the door of the dining room. "Will you follow me, sir?" he said to Richard.

Richard paused a moment on the threshold. He looked first at Gartred, then back at me again.

"When the hounds are in full cry," he said, "and the coverts guarded, the Red Fox goes to earth."

He smiled, holding my eyes for a single second, and was gone, after d.i.c.k, on to the causeway.... Gartred watched them disappear, then shrugged her shoulders.

"I thought," she said, "the hiding place was in the house. Near your old apartment in the gatehouse."

"Did you?" I said.

"I wasted hours, four years ago, searching in the pa.s.sages, tiptoeing outside your door," she said.

There was a mirror hanging on the wall beside the window. She went to it and;. stared, pulling her veil aside. The deep crimson gash ran from her eyebrow to her chin, jagged, irregular, and the smooth contour of her face was gone forever. I watched her eyes, and she saw me watching them through the misty gla.s.s of the little mirror.

"I could have stopped you," she said, "from falling with your horse to the ravine. You knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes," I said.

"You called to me, asking for the way, and I did not answer you."

"You did not," I said.

"It has taken a long time to call it quits," she said to me. She came away from the mirror and, taking from her sack the little pack of cards I well remembered, sat down by the table, close to my wheeled chair. She dealt the cards face downwards on the table.

"We will play patience, you and I, until the troopers come," said Gartred Grenvile.

35.

I doubt, if Colonel Bennett had searched all Cornwall, could he have found a quieter couple, when he came, than the two women playing cards in the dining hall at Menabilly. One with a great scar upon her face and silver hair, the other a hopeless cripple.

Yes, there had been guests with us until today, we admitted it. Mr. Rashleigh's son-in-law, Sir Peter Courtney, and my own brother, Robin Harris. No, we knew nothing of their movements. They came and went as they pleased. Mr. Trelawney had called once, we understood, but we had not seen him. Why was I left alone at Menabilly by the Rashleighs? From necessity, and not from choice. Perhaps you have forgotten, Colonel Bennett, that my home at Lanrest was burnt down four years ago, by your orders, someone told me once? A strange action for a neighbour. And why was Mrs. Denys from Orley Court near Bideford a guest of mine at the present season? Well, she was once my sister-in-law and we had long been friends.... Yes, it was true my name had been connected with Sir Richard Grenvile in the past. There are gossips in the West Country as well as at Whitehall. No, Mrs. Denys had never been very friendly with her brother. No, we had no knowledge of his movements. We believed him to be in Naples. Yes, search the house, from the cellar to the attics; search the grounds. Here are the keys. Do what you will. We have no power to stop you. Menabilly is no property of ours. We are merely guests, in the absence of Mr. Rashleigh....

"Well, you appear to speak the truth, Mistress Harris," he said to me on the conclusion of his visit (he had called me Honor once, when we were neighbours near to Looe), "but the fact that your brother and Sir Peter Courtney are implicated in the rising that is now breaking out, abortively, praise heaven, at Helston and Penzance, renders this house suspect. I shall leave a guard behind me, and I rather think, when Sir Hardress Waller comes into the district, he will make a more thorough search of the premises than I have had time to do today. Meanwhile--" He broke off abruptly, his eyes drifting, as if in curiosity, back to Gartred.

"Pardon my indelicacy, madam," he said, "but that cut is recent?"

"An accident," said Gartred, shrugging, "a clumsy movement and some broken gla.s.s."

"Surely--not self-inflicted?"

"What else would you suggest?"

"It has more the appearance of a sword cut, forgive my rudeness. Were you a man, I would say you had fought a duel and received the hurt from an opponent."

"I am not a man, Colonel Bennett. If you doubt me, why not come upstairs to my chamber and let me prove it to you?"

Robert Bennett was a Puritan. He stepped back a pace, colouring to his ears.

"I thank you, madam," he said stiffly. "My eyes are sufficient evidence."

"If promotion came by gallantry," said Gartred, "you would still be in the ranks. I can think of no other officer in Cornwall, or in Devon either, who would decline to walk upstairs with Gartred Denys."

She made as though to deal the cards again, but Colonel Bennett made a motion of his hands.

"I regret," he said shortly, "but whether you are Mrs. Denys or Mrs. Harris these days does not greatly matter. What does matter is that your maiden name is Grenvile."

"And so?" said Gartred, shuffling her cards.

"And so I must ask you to come with me and accept an escort down to Truro. There you will be held, pending investigation, and when the roads are quieter you will have to leave to depart to Orley Court."

Gartred dropped her cards into her sack and rose slowly to her feet.

"As you will," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You have some conveyance, I presume? I have no dress for riding."

"You will have every comfort, madam." He turned then to me. "You are permitted to remain here until I receive further orders from Sir Hardress Waller. These may be forthcoming in the morning. But I must ask you to be in readiness to move upon the instant, should the order come. You understand?"

"Yes," I answered. "Yes, I understand."

"Very good then. I will leave a guard before the house, with instructions to shoot on sight, should his suspicions be in any way aroused. Good evening. You are ready, Mrs. Denys?"

"Yes, I am ready." Gartred turned to me and touched me lightly on the shoulder. "I am sorry," she said, "to cut my visit short. Remember me to the Rashleighs when you see them. And tell Jonathan what I said about the gardens. If he wishes to plant flowering shrubs he must first rid himself of foxes...."

"Not so easy," I answered. "They are hard to catch. Especially when they go underground."

"Smoke them out," she said. "It is the only way. Do it by night; they leave less scent behind them.... Good-bye, Honor."

"Good-bye, Gartred."

She went, throwing her veil back from her face to show the vivid scar, and I have not seen her from that day to this.

I heard the troopers ride away from the courtyard and out across the park. Before the two entrance doors stood sentries, with muskets at their sides. And a sentry stood also at the outer gate and by the steps leading to the causeway. I sat watching them, then pulled the bellrope by the hearth for Matty.

"Ask them," I said, "if Colonel Bennett left permission for me to take exercise in my chair within the grounds."

She was back in a moment with the message that I feared.

"He is sorry," she answered, "but Colonel Bennett gave strict orders that you were not to leave the house."

I looked at Matty, and she looked at me. The thoughts chased round my head in wild confusion. "What hour is it?" I asked.

"Near five o'clock," she answered.

"Four hours of daylight still," I said.

"Yes," she answered.

From the window of the dining hall I could see the sentry pacing up and down before the gates of the south garden. Now and then he paused to look about him and to chat with his fellow at the causeway steps. The sun, high in the southwest, shone down upon their muskets.

"Take me upstairs, Matty," I said slowly.

"To your own chamber?"

"No, Matty. To my old room beyond the gatehouse."

I had not been there in all the past two years of my stay at Menabilly. The west wing was still bare, untouched. Desolate and stripped as when the rebels had come pillaging in '44. The hangings were gone from the walls. The room had neither bed, nor chair, nor table. One shutter hung limp from the farther window, giving a faint crack of light. The room had a dead, fusty smell, and in the far corner lay the bleached bones of a rat. The west wing was very silent. Very still. No sound came from the deserted kitchens underneath.

"Go to the stone," I whispered. "Put your hands against it."

Matty did so, kneeling on the floor. She pressed against the square stone by the b.u.t.tress, but it did not move.

"No good," she murmured. "It is hard fixed. Have you forgotten that it only opened on the other side?"

Had I forgotten? It was the one thing that I remembered. "Smoke them out," said Gartred. "It is the only way." Yes, but she did not understand. She thought them hidden somewhere in the woods. Not behind stone walls three feet thick.

"Fetch wood and paper," I said to Matty. "Kindle a fire. Not in the chimney, here against the wall."

There was a chance, a faint one, G.o.d knew well, that the smoke would penetrate the cracks in the stones and make a signal. They might not be there, though. They might be crouching in the tunnel at the farther end, beneath the summer house, not having come up to the b.u.t.tress cell....

How slow she was, good Matty, faithful Matty, fetching the dried gra.s.s and the twigs. How carefully she blew the fire, how methodically she added twig to twig.

"Hurry," I said. "More wood, more flame."

"Patience," she whispered. "It will go in its own time."

In its own time. Not my time. Not Richard's time.... The room was filled with smoke. It seeped into our eyes, our hair; it clung about the windows. But whether it seeped into the stones we could not tell. Matty went to the window and opened the crack two inches farther. I held a long stick in my hands, poking helplessly at the slow sizzling fire, pus.h.i.+ng the sticks against the b.u.t.tress wall.

"There are four hors.e.m.e.n riding across the park," said Matty suddenly, "troopers, like those who came just now."

My hands were wet with sweat. I threw away my useless stick and rubbed my eyes, stung and red with smoke. I think I was nearer panic at that moment than any other in my eight and thirty years.