Jeremy Poldark (28 page)

Ross said: "I've been talking to Dwight
about Francis."

“Oh?"

"Dwight tells me that Francis's quarrel
with George Warleggan was over me."

How does he know?"

"They shared a bedroom in Bodmin. Francis
wanted to do away with himself. It all bears out what Verity wrote in her
letter - and much more besides."

She said: "I'm glad we made it up at
Christmas. So am I now."

As they turned to plough across the sand she
said:'" I'd like to put my feet in the water."

It would freeze your vitals at this hour."

“My vitals feel peculiar enough," said
Demelza. " Perhaps I'd better leave them be."

That day Ross went to Truro and heard that the
shares had sold. They had been bought by Mr. Coke, and had fetched their price.
The newcomer, the unknown Mr. Coke, was now the largest shareholder in the
mine. It was a wrench at the last, hearing they had irrevocably gone. On his
way home he made a detour to call at Trenwith.

He found Francis beside the lake, sawing up a
tree. The occupation came strangely to him. Fate would never make Francis
anything but what he had been born.

"I always dislike the burning of ash,"
Ross said as he dismounted. "One feels it has grown for better things.

Perhaps that's why it resents the saw,"
said Francis, whose face had coloured more at sight of Ross than from the
exertion. There was no ease between them yet. "Elizabeth's indoors, I
think, and will be glad of a visitor. I'll follow in two or three
minutes."

" No, it's you I want to see. We can talk
here." "Any excuse to stop." Francis wiped his hands. " How
is Demelza?"

"Well enough, thank you. Better than last
time", `What can I do for you, Ross?"

Ross tethered Darkie to a sapling and sat on a
piece of the fallen tree. He picked up a thin branch and began to trace
thoughtful squares and circles in the sandy gravel of the path. "Have
Ellery and Pendarves found you buried treasure yet?"

"... Hardly so much as that. There's a
likely place where my land abuts on the head of Sawle Combe. But it would be
right on Choake's front door,, and he would squeak at that. Also the signs are
for tin and I've still a special attachment for copper."

"I'm opening Wheal Grace," Ross said.

" What? You don't mean it? That's cheerful
news What made you change your mind?"

" Circumstances. We hope to start in three
months. It's a gamble, of course."

Francis put on his coat. "You're going to
follow the Trevorgie workings?"

"Henshawe and I have. been down; several
times. God knows who did all that work but the place is honeycombed. It's
mostly shallow but even so the lower level is flooded and we haven't been able
to explore it So we expect to put up an engine. We reckon there's enough ore in
the shallow levels to make the venture worth while”

Who is investing the money?"

“I am. I've sold half my shares in Wheal Leisure
and can realise six hundred pounds."

Ross began to puff off his gloves. They had both
been carefully mended by Demelza, and for a moment he looked at them with
distaste at the thought of the necessity for darning.

`D'you see anything of George these days?"
he asked.

I haven't seen him since September. Our quarrel
was not the sort that is likely to be made up."

"Not ever?"

Francis looked at him. "I can't answer for
what may happen in heaven."

"This feud," Ross, said carefully,
between' George and me is one which it can be to nobody's advantage to join. It
would be particularly to your detriment to take up more than - say-a neutral
attitude. Although he's made no move against you up to now, he, could do so any
time."

"My dear Ross, my attitude has gone far
beyond the neutral. You may not welcome me as a fellow standard-bearer, but
I'm afraid there's no choice,"

Darkie stamped her foot and whinnied.

You've told me more than once," Ross said,
"about this money you're saving to invest in, a mine. How much was it: six
hundred pounds or thereabouts?"

There was a sharp silence.

"Thereabouts.''

“With twelve hundred pounds we could do a great
deal. " “Yes?”

“It could be."

" You're suggesting-we should go into
partnership?" Yes."

"There's nothing at all I'd like better.
But it's rather taken my, breath away. Are you sure you want that?"

" If I'd not wanted it I shouldn't have
suggested it."

"No.. . God, it's a strange world."
Francis wiped his forehead again, put the handkerdhief away, wriggled the saw
out of the half-sawn log.

"It may be a fight," said Ross.
"You would do better to keep out. George has a long arm." “To the
devil with George."

“If this prospers, then I want no outsiders who
can dispose of their shares just as and when they please. But you may well
lose your money."

" I like a gamble: But if anyone had told
me six months ago . . "

One can gamble on a man as well as on a
nine." Francis stirred the shavings with his foot. "I can't. guarantee
the mine... "

" If you feel like that, that's all that
matters." I feel like that...."

"Forget the past," Ross said.
"Take this proposition or leave it on its merits."

"I take it, of course. Come up: to the
house and we'll seal the contract In a glass of good brandy."

As they walked along they did not speak at all.
Ross's proposal had astonished Francis and excited him; but he was not easy in
his mind. Two or three times he glanced at his cousin, and almost at the door
of the house he stopped.

"Look Ross I"

" What?"

"Don't think I don't want this. It could mean
a lot to me. But before we go any further there's something it's necessary to
tell you. If it were not for your offering this - this thing it wouldn't be in
me to blurt it out.. But now.. .”

“The proposition shouldn't go forward until you
know ..." Ross stared at his embarrassed face. " Is it something that
is past?"

“Oh, God, Yes. But all the same , "

"If it's past, then forget it. I don't
think I want to hear what you may be going to tell me."

Francis flushed. "If that's the case, I
don't think I want to hear it myself."

They stared: at each other.

Francis said: " The Poldarks, then."
Ross nodded slowly.

The Poldarks."

Widow Tregothnan's kiddley in Sawle was crammed
to the doors.

Two unmistakable signs that a cargo had been successfully
run in the neighbourhood were a relaxation in the tension of day-to-day' living
and an increase of drunkenness. Money was temporarily easier, and gin and nun
were cheap. The little subwave of prosperity ran right through the villages,
beginning among the men concerned in the run and losing its height and momentum
the further it spread from them.

Sally Tregothnan - a loud, laughing woman of
forty-odd was herself behind the counter that - served-- as a bar, and giving
as good as she got. The four public houses in the village were enjoying their
fair share of trade, but Widow Tregothnan's was the meeting place of the
choicer spirits. The widow was often known, as Sally Chill-Off. She was not
supposed to sell anything stronger than beer, but there had never been a moment
in the village's history when she had, not been prepared to add a little
something to her ale "to take the chill off," even when her customers
were on their beam ends. So prosperity brought her a roaring trade. Among those
present tonight were Ned Bottrell, Jud Paynter, Charlie Kempthorne, Paul
Daniel, Jacka Hoblyn and Ted Carkeek. Men like Pally Rogers and Will Nanfan,
though they were ringleaders in the trade, frowned on drink for themselves as
contrary to their Methodist principles.

Jud Paynter was at his happiest. He had gin at
his elbow, gin in his stomach and an audience.

" Now then," he said, "now then,
if you d'want to know what tis like to stand up in a court o' law an' speak the
words o'-truth an' have the judge an' jury am all the lawyers listening
-openmouthed, I'll tell ee. There they was, jury row on row like sparrows on a
branch, lawyers in their black nightshirts like they was ready_ to leap, into
bed, fancy dories wi' parasols, the whole darned, danged, blathering boiling of
'em, mused together cheek to cheek. Twas some handsome sight, I tell ee."

" Go on," said Sally Tregothnan.
" Go-on."

" Tes true. Without a word of a lie: When
first I stood up there and looked around, I was sweatin' like dung. But when I
got goin' I give 'em a fair proper talking to, as if I was the shepherd and
they was the sheep. Damme, twould've done ye all a power o' good to have
'eard'n

" Reckon you did oughter have been a
preacher," said Charlie Kempthorne, winking at Ned Bottrell.

Jacka Hoblyn drained his glass and looked at Jud
from under his heavy brows. " I'm sick and tired of hearing all this
spudder. Tis over and done with these pretty many months and there's no more to
it. Who knows what you was like in the court when there's nobody but you to
tell us?"

"I'm tellin' ee," Jud said, showing
his two teeth indignantly. " If ye've got ears to hear, I'm telling ee.
Here was I, say this pot, and there was Judge, say Paul Daniel, but not
grinning like a ram's cat; and there was Ross Poldark in the dock, say Jacka
Hoblyn, but not squattin' down like a hen wi' the cluck; and judge says to me,
` Mester Paynter,' he says, says he, `did this man do wrong or no?' an' I says
to him I Say. `Judge,' I says, `this man once done wrong by me but I aren't one
to carry a grudge where it don't belong to be carried, for who d'know
betterer'n Jud Paynter what the Good Book d'say, which is if the Lord do strike
thee upon one eye turn thou the other and let'n 'ave a good clunk at that too.
So tis fair to say that I'm speakin' the honest truth an' no word of a lie when
I d'tell ee this man, Jacka Hoblyn, Ross Poldark I d'mean, is as innocent as a
new-dropped babe in its first wettels. Grudge," I says, `I've no judge
against ee or any man living, or dead. I b'lieve in all as tes written for all
to read. Thou shalt not move thy neighbour's landmark. Nor shalt thou covet thy
neighbour's wife, nor his mate, nor his hoss, nor his axe, nor anythink that is
his.' "

" Here, mind where you're sweeping wi' your
great hands " said Sally Tregothnan.

So I goes on till nigh every soul to be seen has
melted into hot tears, hardened sinners and doxies alike. Then the grudge turns
to the court an' opens up his arms like a-huer that's seen the pilchards an'
'e says, ` My friends, my friends, my friends, my friends, my friends, my
friends ...' " Jud paused and groped for his glass, found it, and carried
it along a winding lane to his lips.

Stuff an' nonsense," said Jacka Hoblyn in a
disagreeable voice. "No judge never said nothing of the sort."

"'Old hard, me dear," whispered Paul
Daniel. "Give 'im a bit more rope an' who knows but what he'll 'ang
hisself."

But Jud had lost track of his remarks. ; He
tried hard to put his glass down until at length Sally took it from him. He
mopped, his forehead with his coat sleeve and looked round with a glassy eye.
He began to sing in a broken quavering tenor.

" There was an old couple an' they was
poor. Tweedle, tweedle, go-twee. They lived in a sheep shed without any door.
By the side of an elmin tree."

"Dear Jakes, it is more than I can
stomach," said Hoblyn. "Sitting up there like an Aunt Sally at a
Christmas fair."

Charlie Kempthorne coughed as he moved
surreptitiously nearer to Jacka. Smoke and drink still touched up his chest at times.
"I seen Rosina out this morning," he said confidentially. " She's
growing away into a 'andsome girl."

" Eh?" said Jacka, staring at him
suspiciously.

She'll be wedding soon, I suppose? Though maybe
there'll be some as is put off like wi' that leg, on account of 'er walking
lipsy."

Jacka grunted and finished his drink. Charlie
blinked and glanced at the other man's heavy brow.

Twouldn't do for 'er to live an' 'die a maid,
just on account of being clecky in one leg."

She's but seventeen," said Jacka, filling
his pipe.

There's many a young rip'll be coming after she
afore long."

Maybe an olderer sort of person
would
be
more fitty like," said Kempthorne, licking his lips.

"An' this old couple," sang Jud,
"'ad got no gold. Tweedle, tweedle, an’ - twee. So they was feelin' fair
bedoled. In the lewth of the elmin tree"

Now me," said Kempthorne, " just for
instance, as you might say: I aren't doin' so dusty out o' my sailmaking an'
suchlike. Gettin' a little nest egg together. Mind, I got two childer, one of
----'

Aye," said Jacka, poor little brats."

"There's naught amiss with them that
growin' up won't cure. What they need more'n aught else is a woman's 'care.
I've had a thought for Mary Ann Tregaskis but..”

If she'd 'ave you." When he was in his
first drink was not the time for Jacka Hoblyn's nature to show at its most
agreeable.

Well, that's as may be. I 'aren't asked her. But
there's many as would jump at the chance. I got a bit o' ground back of
Andrewartha's for swedes, an' I shall be havin' a litter of veers next month.
An' sailmaking's maybe not all I shall do with the needle afore' I'm through. I
got me ten yards o' black velveteen in to Redruth last week, cheap, at two
shillings the yard, and I've a mind to cut it out and make it up as breeches in
a genteel way; twould sell to folk aiming to be gentry if not to the gentry
themselves. And there's other things I got, picked up here an' there, that'd
maybe surprise you”.

" Yes" said Jacka, pouring another
drink.

"Yes. An' I 'ad the thought twould fit in
very well for a girl as is 'andy with a needle to fix up with a man who's 'andy
the same way, like. I 'ad that thought."

`` You 'ad, eh?" said Jacka, and stared,
appraisingly at Kempthorne: He brooded for a minute. " How old are you,
Charlie? Nearly so old as me, I reckon."

" I'm only thirty-nine," said Charlie.

" And d'you spit blood still?"

"Nay, I've not done that for near on two
year. Look, Jacka, I tell ee, I'm getting on in the world, and, there's many a
maid could do worse ..."

" Maybe, the maid would have some" to
say 'bout that herself."

Nay, Rosina's an easy-natured sort o' girl - takes
after her mother. An' you, Jacka, o' course. An' you. She'd do what her dad
thought right, I'm sure of it.”

Aye," growled Jacka, "maybe she would.
Maybe that's the way she's been brought up. But I aren't one for doing things
in haste - except when there's need for haste.. And there'd better not be
now."

"No haste at all! Just think around it in
your leisure, like. And maybe I'll drop in an' see Rosina now and then if tis
all the same to you, just to see how the land, lays ..."

" Now, this old couple," sang Jud, was
poddlin' around. Tweedle, tweedle, go-twee; when they seen a long-cripple come
out o' the ground. From under the elmin tr-tree...."

Later, that night Jud made his stumbling way
home towards Grambler under the hasty light of a half-moon rushing through high
white clouds. The air had turned keen, and if April had not been well advanced
one might have expected frost. Jud was still in a jovial mood, though not
untinged with forebodings about the eternal damnation nation of the world: Now
and then he forgot it and went on with his interminable song, for which there
always seemed to be a new verse; now and then he stumbled over a rut or a stone
and consigned the world to the hell-fire and brimstone from which he'd long
been trying to save it.

But it was after one of his rarer quiet periods
that he heard the footsteps behind.

Time had partly lulled the fears of autumn and
Christmas, and tonight the drink had warmed him and given him courage; all the
same he turned quickly, his hackles up and reaching for his knife. It was the
lonely stretch just before you reached the first cottage of Grambler; gorse
bushes and heather and a few wind-contorted trees.

There were two men, and in the half-darkness he
realised with a sinking feeling that they were strangers; one was tall, wore
an, old hat pulled low over his eyes.

"Mister Paynter," said the short man,
and Jud thought he had heard that voice somewhere before.

"What d'ye want?

Nothing partic'lar. Just a little talk."

I don't want no talk. Keep yer distance or I'll
slit you wi' this knife:"

Oh, indeed. Quite a warrior now, eh?' More of a
warrior than you were last September."

I don't know what yer mean, Jud said anxiously,
backing away. "Tes all foreign to me."

"What, don't remember getting some money on
the cheap, like, eh? Just thought you could tell as many lies as you liked and
get away with it, eh? Clever, aren't you? ' Smart. All right, Joe, let 'im 'ave
it."

The little man sprang forward and Jud's knife
flashed in the moonlight, but before he could turn, the tall man lifted a heavy
bar he carried and crashed it down with great violence upon Jud's head. There
was a rush of moonlight and then his knees gave way and he fell forward into
the enduring dark.

When Prudie heard that her husband had been
murdered she gave a piercing, scream and rushed out in the early morning light
to greet the cortege that wormed through the village towards her. Two old
scavengers, Ezekiel Scawen and Sid Bunt, had found the body in the ditch beside
the road, and some miners had brought a board and were, carrying him on his
last journey home. Whether the attackers had intended to make it a killing job
or whether the savage blow and the night's exposure had together proved too
much for a constitution weakened by years of drinking no one would ever know.
Robbery was generally believed to be the motive, and two crippled sailors
working their way along the coast to St. Ives were set on and might have been
roughly handled if they had, not been able to prove they had spent the whole
night in the lowly house of the Rev. Clarence Odgers.

Ross wouldn't let Demelza go over, but he went
himself and conveyed his sympathy to Prudie. In a queer way Jud had become an
institution, not merely in the neighbourhood but in his life. Though they saw
little of each other these days, Ross had always been aware of Jud's existence,
grumbling, drunken, and self-righteous in his blundering hangdog way. The
district wouldn't ever be quite the same without him. He said something of
this to Prudie, who sniffed into a red duster that had been Jud's and confessed
to Ross her suspicion that Jud's death was a result of something that had
happened at Bodmin, because he'd never been easy in his mind since then -
always he'd seemed to be expecting something. Now it had come with a
vengeance. Ross didn't speak, but stood staring thoughtfully out of the window,
considering the possibility. After waiting hopefully for some response, Prudie
gave it up and said, Well, dear life, whatever was at the root of it, she
didn't know how she'd ever make out now he was gone. And her cousin from
Marasanvose, who'd come over for company, sniffed in a corner and wiped her
nose on her sleeve.

They, had put the body in the lean-to shed that
communicated with the single-story two-roomed shack by way of the back door,
and after staring at his old servant for a moment or two, Ross returned to the
two sniffing women and said they must tell him if there was any way in which he
could help.