Jamie! said Judith, now in serious alarm; we ought not to be here. It is not safe. Do do come away at once.
Why, what is there to harm us?
My dear, do come away. She turned to retrace her steps, but Jamie stopped her.
Not that way, Ju! I have another by which to get out. Follow me still.
He led the way up the steep rubble slope, and the light fell fuller from above. The cave was one of those into which when the sea rolls and chokes the entrance, the compressed air is driven out by a second orifice.
They reached a sort of well or shaft, at the bottom of which they stood, but it did not open vertically but bent over somewhat, so that from below the sky could not be seen, though the light entered. A narrow path was traced in the side, and up this Jamie and the dog scrambled, followed by Judith, who was most anxious to escape from a place which she had no doubt was one of the shelter caves of the smugglers perhaps of Cruel Coppinger, whose house was not a mile distant.
The ascent was steep, the path slippery in places, and therefore dangerous. Jamie made nothing of it, nor did the little dog, but Judith picked her way with care; she had a good steady head, and did not feel giddy, but she was not sure that her feet might not slide in the clay where wet with water that dripped from the sides. As she neared the entrance she saw that hartstongue and maidenhair fern had rooted themselves in the sheltered nooks of this tunnel.
After a climb of a hundred feet she came out on a ledge in the face of the cliff above the bay, to see, with a gasp of dismay, her brother in the hand of Cruel Coppinger, the boy paralyzed with fear so that he could neither stir nor cry out.
What! exclaimed the Captain, you here? as he saw Judith stand before him.
The puppy was barking and snapping at his boots. Coppinger let go Jamie, stooped and caught the dog by the neck. Look at me, said the smuggler sternly, addressing the frightened boy. Then he swung the dog above his head and dashed it down the cliffs; it caught, then rolled, and fell out of sight certainly with the life beaten out of it.
This will be done to you, said he; I do not say that I would do it. She he waved his hand toward Judith stands between us. But if any of the fifteen to twenty men who know this place and come here should chance to meet you as I have met you, he would treat you without compunction as I have treated that dog. And if he were to catch you below you have heard of Wyvill, the Preventive man? you would fare as did he. Thank your sister that you are alive now. Go on that way up the cliff. He pointed with a telescope he held.
Jamie fled up the steep path like the wind.
Judith, said Coppinger, will you stand surety that he does not tell tales?
I do not believe he will say anything.
I do not ask you to be silent. I know you will not speak. But if you mistrust his power to hold his tongue, send him away send him out of the country as you love him.
He shall never come here again, said Judith, earnestly.
That is well; he owes his life to you.
Judith noticed that Cruel Coppingers left arm was no more in a sling, nor in bands.
He saw that she observed this, and smiled grimly. I have my freedom with this arm once more for the first time to-day.
CHAPTER XIII
IN THE DUSK
Kicking along, Mr. Menaida, old man? asked Mr. Scantlebray, in his loud, harsh voice, as he shook himself inside the door of Uncle Zachies workshop. And the little uns? Late in life to become nurse and keep the bottle and pap-bowl going, eh, old man? Hows the orphings? Eating their own weight of victuals at twopence-hapenny a head, eh? My experience of orphings isnt such as would make a man hilarious, and feel that he was filling his pockets.
Sit you down, sir; youll find a chair. Not that one, theres a dab of arsenical paste got on to that. Sit you down, sir, over against me. Glad to see you and have some one to talk to. Here am I slaving all day, worn to fiddlestrings. Theres Squire Rashleigh, of Menabilly, must have a glaucous gull stuffed at once that he has shot; and theres Sir John St. Aubyn, of Clowance, must have a case of kittiwakes by a certain day; and an institution in London wants a genuine specimen of a Cornish chough. Do they think Im a tradesman to be ordered about? That Ive not an income of my own, and that I am dependent on my customers? Ill do no more. Ill smoke and play the piano. Ive no time to exchange a word with any one. Come, sit down. Whats the news?
Its a bad world, said Mr. Scantlebray, setting himself into a chair. Thats to say, the world is well enough if it warnt for there being too many rascals in it. I consider its a duty on all right-thinking men to clear them off.
Well, the world would be better if we had the making of it, acquiesced Mr. Menaida. Bless you! Ive no time for anything. I like to do a bit of bird-stuffing just as a sort of relaxation after smoking, but to be forced to work more than one cares I wont do it! Besides, it is not wholesome. I shall be poisoned with arsenic. I must have some antidote. So will you, sir eh? A drop of real first-rate cognac?
Thank you, sir old man I dont mind dipping a feather and drawing it across my lips.
Jamie had been so frightened by the encounter with Cruel Coppinger that he was thoroughly upset. He was a timid, nervous child, and Judith had persuaded him to go to bed. She sat by him, holding his hand, comforting him as best she might, when he sobbed over the loss of his pup, and cheering him when he clung to her in terror at the reminiscence of the threats of the Captain to deal with him as he had with Tib. Judith was under no apprehension of his revisiting the cave; he had been too thoroughly frightened ever to venture there again. She said nothing to impress this on him; all her efforts were directed toward allaying his alarms.
Just as she hoped that he was dropping off into unconsciousness, he suddenly opened his eyes, and said, Ju.
Yes, dear.
Ive lost the chain.
What chain, my pretty?
Tibs chain.
The pup had been a trouble when Jamie went with the creature through the village or through a farm-yard. He would run after and nip the throats of chickens. Tib and his master had got into trouble on this account; accordingly Judith had turned out a light steel chain, somewhat rusty, and a dog collar from among the sundries that encumbered the drawers and closets of the rectory. This she had given to her brother, and whenever the little dog was near civilization he was obliged to submit to the chain.
Judith, to console Jamie for his loss, had told him that in all probability another little dog might be procured to be his companion. Alas! the collar was on poor Tib, but she represented to him that if another dog were obtained it would be possible to buy or beg a collar for him, supposing a collar to be needful. This had satisfied Jamie, and he was about to doze off, when suddenly he woke to say that the chain was lost.
Where did you lose the chain, Jamie?
I threw it down.
Why did you do that?
I thought I shouldnt want it when Tib was gone.
And where did you throw it? Perhaps it may be found again.
I wont go and look for it indeed I wont. He shivered and clung to his sister.
Where was it? Perhaps I can find it.
I dropped it at the top on the down when I came up the steps from from that man, when he had killed Tib.
I wont go and look for it indeed I wont. He shivered and clung to his sister.
Where was it? Perhaps I can find it.
I dropped it at the top on the down when I came up the steps from from that man, when he had killed Tib.
You did not throw it over the cliff?
No I threw it down. I did not think I wanted it any more.
I dare say it may be found. I will go and see.
No no! Dont, Ju. You might meet that man.
Judith smiled. She felt that she was not afraid of that man he would not hurt her.
As soon as the boy was asleep, Judith descended the stairs, leaving the door ajar, that she might hear should he wake in a fright, and entering the little sitting-room, took up her needles and wool, and seated herself quietly by the window, where the last glimmer of twilight shone, to continue her work at a jersey she was knitting for Jamies use in the winter.
The atmosphere was charged with tobacco-smoke, almost as much as that of the adjoining workshop. There was no door between the rooms; none had been needed formerly, and Mr. Menaida did not think of supplying one now. It was questionable whether one would have been an advantage, as Jamie ran to and fro, and would be certain either to leave the door open or to slam it, should one be erected. Moreover, a door meant payment to a carpenter for timber and labor. There was no carpenter in the village, and Mr. Menaida spent no more money than he was absolutely obliged to spend, and how could he on an annuity of fifty pounds.
Judith dropped her woolwork in her lap and fell into meditation. She reviewed what had just taken place: she saw before her again Coppinger, strongly built, with his dark face, and eyes that glared into the soul to its lowest depths, illumining all, not as the sun, but as the lightning, and suffering not a thought, not a feeling to remain obscure.
A second time had Jamie done what angered him, but on this occasion he had curbed his passion and had contented himself with a threat nay, not even that with a caution. He had expressly told Jamie, that he himself would not hurt him, but that he ran into danger from others.
She was again looking at Coppinger as he spoke; she saw the changes in his face, the alterations of expression in his eyes, in his intonation. She recalled the stern, menacing tone in which he had spoken to Jamie, and then the inflexion of voice as he referred to her. A dim surmise a surmise she was ashamed to allow could be true rose in her mind and thrilled her with alarm. Was it possible that he liked her liked she could, she would give even in thought no other term to describe that feeling which she feared might possibly have sprung up in his breast. That he liked her after all she had done? Was that why he had come to the cottage the day after his accident? Was that what had prompted the strange note sent to her along with the keg of spirits to Uncle Zachie? Was that the meaning of the offer of the choice of all his treasures? of the vehemence with which he had seized her hand and had kissed it? Was that the interpretation of those words of excuse in which he had declared her his queen? If this were so, then much that had been enigmatical in his conduct was explained his interference with the valuers for dilapidations, the strange manner in which he came across her path almost whenever she went to the rectory. And this was the signification of the glow in his eyes, the quaver in his voice, when he addressed her.
Was it so? could it be so? that he liked her? he Cruel Coppinger Cruel Coppinger the terror of the country round liked her, the weakest creature that could be found?
The thought of such a possibility frightened her. That the wild smuggler-captain should hate her she could have borne with better than that he should like her. That she was conscious of a sense of pleased surprise, intermixed with fear, was inevitable, for Judith was a woman, and there was something calculated to gratify feminine pride in the presumption that the most lawless and headstrong man on the Cornish coast should have meant what he said when he declared himself her subject.
These thoughts, flushing and paling her cheek, quickening and staying her pulse, so engrossed Judith that, though she heard the voices in the adjoining apartment, she paid no heed to what was said.
The wind, which had been fresh all day, was blowing stronger. It battered at the window where Judith sat, as though a hand struck and brushed over the panes.
Hot or cold? asked Uncle Zachie.
Thanky, neither. Water can be got everywhere, but such brandy as this, old man only here.
You are good to say so. It is Coppingers present to me.
Coppinger! his very good health, and may he lie in clover to-morrow night. Hes had one arm bound, Ive seen; perhaps he may have two before the night grows much older.
Mr. Menaida raised his brows.
I do not understand you.
I daresay not, said Scantlebray. Its the duty of all right-minded men to clear the world of rascals. I will do my duty, please the pigs. Would you mind just another drop?
After his glass had been refilled, Mr. Scantlebray leaned back in his chair and said:
Its a wicked world, and, between you and me and the sugar dissolving at the bottom of my glass, you wont find more rascality anywhere than in my profession, and one of the biggest rascals in it is Mr. Cargreen. Hes on the side against the orphings. If youve the faculty of pity in you, pity them first, because theyve him agin em, and, secondly, because theyve lost me as their protector. You know whom they got in place of me? I wish them joy of him. But they wont have his wing over them long, I can tell you.
You think not?
Sure of it.
You think hell throw it up?
I rather suspect he wont be at liberty to attend to it. Hell want his full attention to his own consarns.
Mr. Scantlebray tipped off his glass.
Its going to be a dirty night, said he. You wont mind my spending an hour or two with you, will you?
I shall be delighted. Have you any business in the place?
Business no. A little pleasure, maybe. After a pause, he said, But, old man, I dont mind telling you what it is. You are mum, I know. It is this the trap will shut to-night. Snap it goes, and the rats are fast. You havent been out on the cliffs to-day, have you?
No bless me! no, I have not.
The Black Prince is in the offing.
The Black Prince?
Ay, and she will run her cargo ashore to-night. Now, Im one who knows a little more than most. Im one o your straightforard uns, always ready to give a neighbor a lift in my buggy, and a helping hand to the man that is down, and a frank, outspoken fellow am I to every one I meet so that, knocking about as I do, I come to know and to hear more than do most, and I happen to have learnt into what cove the Black Prince will run her goods. Ive a bone to pick with Captain Cruel, so Ive let the Preventive men have the contents of my information-pottle, and they will be ready to-night for Coppinger and the whole party of them. The cutter will slip in between them and the sea, and a party will be prepared to give them the kindliest welcome by land. That is the long and short of it and, old man, I shall dearly love to be there and see the sport. That is why I wish to be with you for an hour or two. Will you come as well?
Bless me! exclaimed Mr. Menaida, not I! You dont suppose Coppinger and his men will allow themselves to be taken easily? Therell be a fight.