Warleggan (42 page)

'And your mine? It's really paying?'

'We can't compute
yet what the returns will be.' `My uncle has been ill. Do you know if he
's better?' `At the moment, yes
',
She turned, her finges still holding the curta
in. He noticed the little amber
specks in her eyes. `Yes, I loved Dwight, if that's any joy to you. It's no joy to me, for I know we could not have been happy. I came to London with my uncle that day because I was vastly angry, piqued, disappointed - all the feelings you'd suppose. I did not know then that Dwigh
t
had been doing what he did for you - to help you. I knew that he had gone
into Sawle, answering a medical
call at the last
moment from someone who needed
him more than I did. The fact that afterwards he had involved himself in some scuffle with the preventive men an
d got himself knocked about and
arrested did not really make the import
ant difference which you seem
to imagine. His going to see the Hoblyn girl was a - a symptom, a symbol. That is what you don't unde
rstand and what he surely –must
-
At least I tried to tell
him in my letter. Captain Poldark
-
Ross, as you say I must call you
-
did you see anything of Dwight during those
last weeks when we had arranged
to elope and live in Bath?'

`I suppose I did. I don't remember.'

`Well, he behaved as if he were preparing to do, something shameful an
d underhand. Oh, yes, he was in
love with me in his way,
and that made him set a bright
front on it; bu
t underneath he was miserable!
He thought he hid it from me, but it was plain to see. He was leaving his charge, his people, his cures, leaving them disgracefully, deserting them at dead of night and going to live in a fashionable and wealthy city. He may have had reasons for feeling that way
-
I don't say,
if it is the right attitude or the wrong attitude
-
but there could have been no happiness in it for me. You think me a fickle and, capricious woman; but in fact I'm not quite so, featherbrained as you suppose. At least I could see that we should
have a miserable future if he
spent the rest of his life blaming himself for the desertion and trying not to blame me! It is true; don't shake your head, it is true'

`Yes, I see it I'm not denying that. I didn't know. I didn't know it
all. And you explained all this
to Dwight in a letter?'

`As much as I was able.'

Ross took a turn about the room, and for a while neither
of them spoke.

He said
: `The desertion as you call it was especially difficult for Dwight because of his affair with another woman
years ago, a patient-'

`Yes.- Keren Daniel. I know about her.'

'I am not defending him, but I suppose that gave him a bad
background for any later move which might look a trifle
sordid to himself. There would not be wanting people who
would say he had married you for your money.'

`Oh, 'people ! ; If you spend your life, thinking what people
will say, you will not stir from your own fireside.'

`I entirely agree. And in principle I'm sure Dwight would.
But he's a deeply sensitive and punctilious person. I see his
point; and I see, yours now.... But if you both loved each
other, surely there was some other way out of the mess?

'
For me to live with him
in three rooms at the Gatehouse, with my uncle kicking up a rumpus a few miles away
and everyone in
the district knowing of it?'

'No.... But would it. not have been better to, see him, when
he had travelled all that way to speak to you?'

She looked at Ross with a little deprecating expression. `I'm
not made of iron, though no doubt you think that also.'

'No,', said Ross. `I don't think so. I find you more and,
more
a woman after my own heart.'

With a swift-flushing
colour she said: `I believe I shall
have a proposal from you yet.'

`You may shortly; have a proposal from me of a different
nature. Do you still love Dwight?'

`Extravagantly!

`No.' He put' his hand on. 'her arm. `Tell, me, Caroline. She shook her head. 'I find this a very embarrassing interview.
’

`Dwight will be in Plymouth all this week and part of next.
If you
travelled with
me when I return on Thursday.
' She stared at him blankly, angrily. `You must be mad '
’
Am I? It depends what you feel for him.' `It depends not at all on that
’

`Then on what? You could be in Plymouth Sunday. Don't you suppose it worth a final meeting? You've never talked over
it sensibly together, in the presence of a third party, have
you?'

`It's seldom possible to be sensible on such occasions!

'I doubt that. Anyway, it's your last chance of seeing him! "I don't think you should appeal to my sentiment' 'We
ll, you cannot ignore the facts
!
’
'That's just what you are doing. The facts have not changed
since we separated. There's no better way out
now than then.' `But they have
changed. You are not making him leave his
friends in Sawle.' He's doing it of his own free will. I didn't
understand before why
'he thought that so necessary.
I do now.
If you meet him now, he will be free of all those associations.' `And tied to the Navy.'

`Yes. There's
no comfortable escape to Bath.
The facts have changed, both for the better and for the worse. They should be worth reconsidering.'

For a moment she seemed to waver. Then she shook her head emphatically. `Impossible. '

Only one person can make it impossible and that is yourself.'

`Yes .
you're right ! You're wholly right, Ross. I have spoken as if all the weakness, all the shortcomings, were on his side. Do you think I've not had time enough since to look into my own?' What happened, the way it happened, showed me up to
myself. Do you know what it's
like
- when your anger and bitterness are so great that you can only hurt yourself
-
and go on hurting yourself for ever and ever, it seems, so that there's no escape. That hasn't changed. The possibility of its happening again hasn't changed.'

'Why
not?'

'Well, it
may have lessened, but it doesn't disappear, How can it? If I had brought a different understanding to his feel
ings, I should be a different
per
son. I am not a different person
-
I'm only myself. Not only did I expect too much of him, but he expected too much of me. I know less of married life than you, but I should have thought it the worst way to begin. The break went both ways
-
and very
deep. I haven't
such a plenitude of courage to hurt myself again, and him too.'

There
was silence for a time. She said: 'Nor would what you
think
come out of a single meeting. I have done too much
of
it already-arriving to turn his life upside down and then leave again. Let him go-in peace.'

Ross took out his purse and unfolded a piece of, paper. `Here is my draft. Your banker will send a receipt'

She took the paper. He did not like his defeat at all; not-one bit.

He said : 'There's one other thing I should tell-you. Your uncle is not altogether better. Dwight
tells me the disease is held in
check, but it's not probable that he will improve much from his present condition. When Dwight is safe at sea, I think you s
hould come down
!
’

'Very well.'

The life had temporarily gone out of her, in a way he had not known before; the emotion had tired her. She asked him to meet her uncle and aunt that evening, but he refused, making the excuse
of pressure of business. As he
was leaving he said
`If you should change your mind before Thursd
ay, you'll find me at the Mitre
in Hedge Lane. It is just off Leicester Fields,'

`Very well,' she said again. `But I cannot' And he went out into the crowded street.

While Ross was away Demelza ha
d an unpleasant experience. She
received an invitation to tea from Mrs. Frensham, Sir John's sister, who was visiting him again; and, it being a fine day and Darkie in Truro, she decided to walk. The shortest way took you along the clif
f
dipping
into Sawle and across the shingle, then up the other side skirting Trenwith land by way of the cliffs until you came to Trevaunance

On this journey Garrick decided to accompany her. It was funny about Garrick. You could walk to the end of the combe of an evening and he wouldn't
lift an eyebrow from his after
rabbit sleep; but if you were going anywhere, he knew instantly and it was the hardest thing
in the world to
get started without him.

He followed perseveringly close
beside her all the way, grumbling only now and then in his throat. By now he was ten but bore his years like his
great size lightly. His
black astrakhan
coat looked more than ever as
if the moths had been at it, he had lost several necessary teeth in several unnecessary fights, and he could not see much out of one eye; but these were the ravages of battle not of time. Demelza sometimes suspected; that he was developing a middle-aged
outlook. He had learned
to distinguish between a rabbit, which had to be galloped after b
efore it escaped, and a tossed
bone, which lay where it fell until one came up with it. And he no longer disappeared for days on wild rampages of his own. Jeremy loved him dearly and pulled
him about
into improbable postures.

When he strayed from her today, she did not call him, knowing that after a snuffle down some promising ho
le he would be back soon enough and there was nothing
he could hurt on this scrubland. When she heard the shot, her mind had been far away and it too
k a few
seconds for her to relate it to the
savage yelping which followed.
Then she saw Garrick down, rolling on the ground, and she ran across the heather towards him, alarm and anger hardly fledged. In his anguish as she knelt down
he bit her wrist,
but she forced his jaws ,open and tried to see where he had been hit. A part of one ear had been shot away; a piece hung loose; blood was dripping over his eyes and terrifying him. But there seemed nothing else.

There was a crackle of dry wood behind her and a
voice said: `That your dog, Mrs
?''

She looked up
. A strange man, rough-dressed,
carrying an old fowling piece under one arm. Another man of the same sort was coming over the heather.

`Did you
fire that gun?'

'Aye, Mrs. Looks as if I only nicked
'
is.... '

She got to her feet, blazing. `Nicked him! You might have killed him! Judas God, you should: be put in prison! What' right's you to be fir
ing your piece without looking i
f there's people about! Here, Garrick! Here, boy!' Garrick had jumped away from her and was running round, shaking his head then rolling over trying to stop the pain.

The man wiped a hand across his now. `Just obeying orders, Mrs. You'd no right to be on private land.'

"Private land! This is public land! Orders! Who
se
orders? What are you talking about?'

The second man had come up. He was
another big fellow,
older than the first, and there was a family resemblance.

`All right, Tom, I'll 'andle this. This b
e
private land you're on, Mrs., and all dogs straying are shot.
-
You ask whose orders. This is Trenwith land right to the sea-'

'Never!
’

'Oh, yes 'tis. And there's another thing. There's been too much sheep worrying of late

`Garrick doesn't do th
at sort of thing! You did ought
to know it's young dogs-'

`E's cutting a fine caper, now,' said Tom, snickering `Fair old dance he's doing, edn'e'

'So would you, you great fool!
I'll report you to Mr. Warleggan! I'm Mrs. Poldark, Mrs. Warleggan's cousin, and I'll see she hears of this!'

Tom went on snickering. 'Oh
, aye, we've heard tell of you, Mrs. a
bi
t like your dog, ain't you: bit
of a mixed breed, eh?'

If there was, a characteristic for which Garrick was noted, it was his obstinacy rather, than his intelligence; but at this moment he chose to show his insight into the situation by going for Tom's leg. Tom shouted and jumped away and swung his musket and missed. The other man stepped back and Demelza rolled to Garrick and in the confusion they were slow in seeing the horseman who was coming towards them across the heather. Trouble was saved by Demelza capturing Garrick, and then the older man said
`Here's Mr. Warleggan now. He'll
see for you his self,
Mrs. Damnation take that great
mongrel
They waited, all breathing sharply, for the arrival of the man who was to settle the di
spute.. To hide the pain in her
wrist, Demelza bent trying to help the dog.

George came slowl
y. The ground was dangerous for
riding, and he had no intention of being thrown. When he recognised Demelza, he took off his hat.

‘
Mrs. Poldark in person. Were you about to call on me?'

`Far from it!' said Demelza, wishing her face would cool; 'I have an invitation to tea at Trevaunance House and was walking there when
these two impudent louts first
shot my dog and then insulted me! Look at my skirt! And they've sorely wounded my dog! I don't know what they think they're
at!
Judas and
my gloves too
! 'Tis nothing less than disgraceful-' 'There's some mistake,' George said. `They took you for a trespasser, which of course you are. But they exceeded: their
instructions
am not-a trespasser! This has been open, land ever since I came here

`Francis was o
ver
-
indulgent, Poachers and gipsies stray wherever they choose--:'

`Do I look like a poacher?
- If I came within twenty feet of your window, I should not expect to be treated with such rudeness! Do you mean you support these men?'

`The Harrys were
obeying orders. But perhaps they have, been overzealous. . .'

`Overzealous! ...' Demelza suddenly perceived; that George was
not going
to help her. `If that's
how you feel,
then there's no more to say.'

`I think your dog' will recover. It will teach him not to stray.'

Trembling with anger, Demelza bent to pick up her other glove. `We shall be poor neighbours, George.'

`Your husband has, already shown himself to be that'

She moved to go: on her way, but young Tom Harry put, out a hand like
a plate. 'Not that road, Mrs.'

Demelza looked up at George. For a moment she could not, believe that he would not allow her to go on after all this
was said
, Then she realised that even his permission now would be an insult. In any case
she was in no
fit state to go visiting. She whistled to Garrick and he came lolloping back, still shaking his head and keeping well
clear
of the men.

`Have a care, George,' she could not refrain from saying; `I might send Ross to visit you.'

It was strange how Ross was always George's weak link. She saw that there was a mark on his face, under his chin, which had not been there before.

`If he comes on my property again, he'll be dealt with.'

‘
it will take more than two clodhoppiug bullies to do it!'

'Ere, you keep
your insults to yourself, Mrs.
' said Tom
Harry. `Else we'll send you ‘ome
with a clip out o' your ear,
`Hold your tongue, Harry!' said George sharply.

She turned and left them; to retire with dignity is a hard and bitter thing, especially with three men staring after you and no doubt tallying behind their hands, When she got home,
she
wrote an apology to Mrs. Frensham and in the evening sent it with John Gimlett, telling him to go by way of the villages.

Dwight Enys was lodged at the Rising Sun, in one of the narrow streets off the Barbican. He had arrived in Plymouth to find the Travail much farther from being fully commissioned than he had expected. Captain' Harrington, was still in Portsmouth; the crew was barely a quarter of its full complement; and the first officer
-
a black-browed, long-jawed Welshman called Williams - said they were pitifully short of stores. Travail was a friga
te of 86o tons burden, 46-guns, nine-and twelve-pounders, and
her full complement was 314. When. Dwight went below into what were to be his quarters, he found all Williams's gloomy views confirmed; His own tiny cabin next to the
common wardroom
was adequate enough, but the ship's medicine chest was bare of supplies and the stench below decks was already hard to be borne. It was his instinct to set about cleaning things up right away; but a feeling that it would be untactful to initiate any move without the permission of the captain sent him mute ashore.

He decided for the time being to stay ashore, although he made a daily visi
t to the ship, and for the next
week spent much time wandering about the seaport, himself idle and restless and depressed. He kept thinking of Caroline and of his own failures and the con
stant futility which had dogged
his efforts to make a recognisable and , satisfactory pattern of his life. He knew that this act of his in going to sea would be regarded
by most of his profession as
a monumentally silly one. The pay was poor, the life arduous
, his standing when he came out
nil. It might be patriotic to serve one's country; there were easier ways. What he had seen so far of the crew was the pick, the volunteers, from whom would be selected the Petty officers, the top-men. The remaining three-quarters would either be pressed men or debtors, rogues and ne'er-do-wells, the sweepings of jail and port. It would be on such material, lice-ridden, diseased, that he would work for the next two years. For weeks on end it would be a monotonous round of purges and vomits, of rough-and-ready treatment with the minimum of
medicinal scope. If there was
an action, it would become a sudden blood-bath of brutal and hasty
‘
surgery' in nightmare conditions deep in the heart of t
he ship by the light of a swing
ing lantern. Was this-what he sought from life
, this confined and disciplined
escape? At least it was what he had chosen. He was not prepared yet to regret it.

On the Sunday, Dwight
receive a
letter from Ross saying he was staying at the Fountain Inn overnight, having business in the town; would Dwight take dinner with him?

Dwight was surprised
and pleased. We had had more than enough of his own company and had thought himself without a friend in the place. About six he walked over, and Ross was waiting for him in the front parlour of the inn.

Whe
n they had greeted each other,
Dwight said 'This is pleasant and unexpected of you. When did you arrive in the town?'

'This
morning. I slept at Ashburton. When do you sail?'

'Heaven knows. Not before Christmas it now seems certain. Wow did you know where to find me?'

"Sent a boatman out to the Travail.' Ross eyed his fried speculatively. 'A handsome uniform, that. At least it must be some satisfaction to look the part. I've ordered dinner in a private room tonight; I thought it would be more comfortab
le. And what Is your impression of the Navy up
to now?'

'That everything is done in a very haphazard way,' said Dwight, following the other upstairs. 'It is plain that this lack of method must be an illusion, for: th
ey always produce the results; but at
present I can't see how. Travail
was to be one of a squadron
of three for patrol work in the Channel; but the other two left last week. I suppose when Warrington does arrive, he will have fresh instructions from the Admiralty.
’

‘
You're staying in very regal style, Ross: It must be a rare pleasure to have money in your pocket again'

They had come into the private r
oom where a servant was tending
the crackling fire and a table, was set for dinner for two. The curtains were drawn, and the warmth and comfort of the roo
m contrasted with Dwight's bare
lodgings.