The Miller's Dance (18 page)

‘
I
have given him exercises to do. For the voice. For the calf muscles.'

Caroline took a sip of illegal claret. 'You may spoil his church voice.
’

'May well. And do no good otherwise. But...'

'Have you spoken to his brothers?'

Dwight paused, spoon over pudding. 'No. But it is a good thought. I'll try John sometime. He is the most responsible of the three.'

'Who knows?' said Caroline. 'You may make a man of him yet.'

'Well, it pleasures him to try. That he should
want
to do something to help himself is half the battle. If he sets his mind on something - as I am sure he has never done before in all his life - who knows what may be the result?'

Their manservant had coughed behind his hand. 'If you please, sur, there be two young men asking to see you, sur, just arrived at the door. Medical I think tis, sur.'

'Did they give a name?'

'Yes, sur, Mr Paul Kellow and Mr Stephen Carrington.'

'Paul!' said Caroline. 'This is strange. Shall we not ask them in for a glass of wine?'

'If it is medical,' Dwight said, rising from his chair, 'perhaps I should see them first. Will you excuse that? Then if they are so minded they
can drink with us afterwards.'

Downstairs in the hall the two young men were seated on chairs, looking fatigued. Paul had a stained bandage round his head and another round his right wrist; Stephen had a leg held stiffly in front of him.

After a few minutes mud-stained and bloodstained clothes lay on the dispensary floor.

Dwight said: 'You came all the way from Plymouth like this?'

'Not in one day,' said Paul. 'We left Plymouth yesterday and slept at Falmouth. We had to go to Penzance today to
p
ick up our ponies, and as there is no coach on that road we ad to travel by wagon; and so we have rid home this evening. It has been a sore ride.'

'Well,' said Dwight, wiping his hands. 'This musket wound of Carrington's is the most in need of attention; but the ball passed through the fleshy part of the thigh and there is only a slight inflammation. Musket balls, if they don't carry anything in with
them
, are usually sterile. I'll dress it and you can see how it is tomorrow. When was
the
wound made?'

'Monday eve,'
said Stephen.'Paul's injuries too.' 'His are not serious,' said Dwight. 'Those heavy bruises and cuts on the head will in all likelihood give you no
trouble after a couple of days' rest. This sprained wrist also ... You have been in a fight?'

Stephen laughed. 'That's what ye might call it, I reckon. I'll give Plymouth a wide berth in future.'

'Amen,' said Paul.

Dwight wrapped up a piece of bandage and put it away.

'We was up in Plymouth on business, Dr Enys,' said Stephen. 'Simple, innocent, honest, commercial business, when we meet some gentlemen who strove to persuade us to join His Majesty's navy.'

'Press gang?'
said Dwight.

'Press gang. Correct in the first instance. Well, Dr Enys, that was not in my mind, nor in the mind of Mr Paul Kellow here. They said yes and we said no; and this disagreement led to a show of arms and a show of resistance. Hence these wounds we've suffered. Hence His Majesty be short of two sailors, such as he would greatly have liked. But I dare swear that certain members of the Press Gang are also suffering bruises and injuries as well.'

Dwight laughed. Now that they had been somewhat cleaned up, there was an air of gaiety about these young men, as if their adventure, now
the
danger was past, had stimulated them. That or something else.

‘I’l
l give you a mixture of Peruvian bark,' he said. Take it three times a day until the wounds are healed. In the meantime, my wife would wish you to drink a glass of canary with us.'

IV

It had in fact been a desperate and bloody encounter.

Stephen had taken Paul with him, not so much for the twelve pounds he was able to 'borrow' from the cash-box as because Paul was well known in certain quarters in Penzance, and if Stephen's
bona fides
were called in question Paul could no doubt find people to vouch for him, and this might be in other ways than for the colour of his gold. When in fact, after standing for half an hour in the dusty parlour of the Union Hotel with two dozen other assorted men of varying degrees of respectability, the lifeboat had been knocked down to them, something still had to be done beyond paying for the vessel. Arrangements had to be made either for her semi-permanent storage in the harbour area -with payment in advance - or she had to be taken elsewhere, to some more lively port where there would be a better chance of a quick re-sale.

'The weather was good,' Stephen said, telling it all later to Clowance. 'There was this lull after the gales, so I looked around. One or two likely lads were hanging about the harbour, hands in pockets, holes in breeches, chewing plug. So I say to Paul, the place to sell this vessel is Plymouth. They'll build up
the
deck, rig her out, and she'll be useful for all manner of work. Someone will snap her up there, I say, it's just a morning's sail for us, or a few hours' muscle if the breeze takes off. And you've friends in Plymouth too, Paul, I say, who'll know the ropes. These likely lads, they'd not be above crewing for a guinea. If there's no change in the sky by morning... So he says, why not? and this is what we did.'

'And you re-sold her?'

‘I
t took near on four days - longer'n I'd expected - to find
the
right interest. But we did in the end. Two youngsters went with us; as it turned out we had no need to row; I paid them a guinea each and their fare home. They were full of joy. Did not stay, of course. Took wagons back to Penzance next day, so
they
came to no harm. No harm at all. Wish it'd been the same with us, but oh, well, it has worked to nobody's disadvantage as it has turned out.'

'How did you become involved with the...'

Stephen's face clouded, then he grunted and smiled. Fundamentally an honest man - that is, honest in his personal relationships — he had no wish to tell Clowance anything but the stark truth; yet he knew he must tell it with tact.

I
reckon I was to blame. More to blame, that is, than Paul. When we'd been paid the money and counted it and made sure it was all there and settled up and rubbed our hands with glee, I say to Paul, avast, we'll travel home in style, let's book on one of your rivals and go home first thing in the morning. So we went round to the Royal Hotel and found the
Self-Defence
was leaving at eight a.m. for Truro, with connections to Hayle and beyond.-We'll go the whole way, I say, and spend another night maybe at Penzance, I say, pick up our ponies and ride home! So Paul says, agreed. Did you know they've given up almost the same routes, him and his father and their partners?'

'What routes?'

'Those we took home.'

'Well, no, I didn't.
’

'Well, it is the same except that their coaches started from Torpoint. The route hasn't paid, and Paul was watchful to see how their rival worked from Plymouth. It is Paul's view that passengers prefer to go aboard at Plymouth and cross the river on the coach; sooner that
,
than cross for themselves and board a coach starting from the other side. That's as maybe, and it
don't concern me, except that Paul wanted to spend the night at the Royal and the evening there too, talking to folk and finding out what he could. Well, you know me - or do you? I hope so, m'dear. I've never disguised from you that I do things on the impulse of the moment, like - small bit reckless - unruly, as you might say. And I was happy at the deal I'd done! So though I was content to lie at the Royal I thought
the
evening would be tedious and I better preferred an inn I'd heard tell of in Plymouth Dock. I thought to go and have a mug of ale, and so Paul agreed.'

'And find two girls?' Clowance suggested.

Because in fact that never had been in his mind he was able to look more shocked. 'As God's my judge! If you've no better reeling for me than that!'

'A little,' said Clowance, patting his hand, but feeling warmer, more reassured for his indignation.

'Well... we were there no more than an hour when the door burst open and seven or eight press men rushed in. Two officers. For a couple of minutes all was riot, but the gang had muskets and it looked a lost cause. Can you imagine how I felt?'

'Go on,
’
she said quietly.

But here he had to go carefully. His mind went over the memory of that scene. The low-raftered taproom, the mugs and glasses on the bar, the two sweating tapsters, a one-legged man on a stool in the corner playing his accordion, two mangy dogs that had crept in, a group of sailors from a frigate, a blind man
keeping t
ime to the sing-song with his empty mug, two drunks in a corner asleep on the sawdust; noise and smoke and heat and the untuneful voices. And then the sudden invasion, the snapping off of the song, the shouts, the quick rush round the taproom to cut off escape, the officers' voices, shouted commands; two or three scuffles, one involving Paul who shoved back at one of the pres
s gang, protesting he was a gentl
eman, and got beaten over the head for it.

'Go on,' she said again.

I
never been pressed. You know that, Clowance, don't you. Though more than once I been near. I never been caught — not ever since that first time with the apples. It is not a pretty feeling to be caught. Now here was I, this night of all nights, with a bag of gold in me pocket — half of it belonging to
you,
half of it taken unnecessary and in me pocket with the rest. And... you waiting; that was worst of all.
You
waiting. If I gave in this t
ime I lost all!'

He winced as he moved his leg.

'When I was aboard the
Unique
we was always fair game then. The men who sail in privateers are most often the best sailors, see. The Navy never picks up landlubbers if it boards a privateer. I tell you, we would often dread the sight of a British frigate more than we would a French. But I've never been
caught.
Now... Well, the inn was crowded -
luckily for us. It took time to line up the men they'd captured, see what they'd got in their net. Behind me was the door out of the taproom into the parlour beyond. One sailor with a musket guarded it. You know that knife I carry?'

She stared at him, wide-eyed.'Yes...'

it doesn't need to be opened, you know, it is on a spring as it draws out of its sheath. Well, I had to give it to him... Paul was next me nursing his broken head, but as the sailor
went down I pushed Paul ahead of me through the door. The others of the gang couldn't shoot, else they'd have hit the other men in the room. We went through that door and the room beyond like death was after us. As it was. They started shooting when we got out -
1
got this then; twas lucky it did not stop me running. That part of the town, by the river, is a maze of alleys. We turned and twisted, no breath left. Tis funny how you're not a coward till you start to run. Then your liver turns to water... It did to me, all those years ago, running from the pit. I felt as if I was running away from that coal-pit all over again...' Stephen shifted his position once more. 'They did not follow far - else they would have lost the rest of their haul. Somehow we found our way to a pump'. I tore a piece off me shirt, stopped the bleeding, tied it; Paul was not so noticeable then as he is now - the cuts and bruises have come out - we patched ourselves up, decided to brazen it out and claim our room at the hotel. Nobody noticed. Wednesday we caught the coach. I'll confess I was relieved to see the end of Plymouth. They might well have searched and found us.'

Clowance got up, went to the window, then turned and looked at him from a greater distance. Nearness to him always distorted her judgment.

'And the sailor?'

'Which one?'

'The one you ...'

'Oh, it was but a light jab. He was already starting to climb upon his feet before I slammed the door in their faces.' She said: 'You should never have gone!' 'To Penzance? To Plymouth? Or to the tavern?' 'What am I to answer to that?'

'Clowance, m'love, it is in me nature to take risks. I was brought up rough - as you know. Life for me has always been - a fight. A sort of a fight. If a cat grows up wild, tis hard to tame it. Do you badly want to tame me?'

She shrugged,
I
'm not sure.'

He smiled at her, showing his broken eye tooth. But his look warmed her. There was no fight in him so far as she was concerned.

'Being pressed is always a risk a man runs who lives in a port. Especially a seaman. That I should have thought more closely about. I promise I'll think more closely next rime.'

'Is there to be a next time?'

'Maybe not. Not likely,
is it, when I've got so much to lose?' 'You did this time.'