The Angry Tide (31 page)

Neither of th
em after that time ever referred to Osborne Whitworth or to his untimely death. The carved stave found beside the clergyman's body might, Rowella thought, be not dissimilar to the one that had disappeared from their kitchen; but she did not ask to see it, nor to see the constables who were conducting the inquiry. Although she thought her husband's brutality towards her outrageous, she appre
ciated that it was not altogethe
r without provocation, and, once in a while, as the incidents receded and became part of the past, she allowed herself to warm towards him for the unexpected violence of which he had found himself capable. He was after all a man of passion, carefully though he generally hid it.

The third Chynoweth, who had been widowed by that same carved stave, was in church on the other si
de with her pachydermatous moth
er-in-law. She was equally inscrutable, but whereas no one had ever known precisely what
Rowella
was thinking since she was old enough to think at all, Morwenna in her teens had been as open as the day, warm in immediate response, ingenuous and impulsive; and only life since her marriage had altered her nature. Now her eyes were no mirror of her soul; they were filmed, vacant, uninterested. The quicksilver had come off the back of the mirror. Since Mr Whitworth's death she had become completely dominated by her mother-in-law. She did what she was told, lisdessly but obediently, as she had come to this service today. It mattered not. Only one thing mattered. Mr Whitworth's return to her room that last month had not been without result. She was again with child. Another little
Ossie
was on the way.
After the service was over, the general congregation dispersed, but the governors and subscribers were to attend a dinner at the Red Lion Inn, which was to begin at 3.30. Dwight said he could not stay, and Ross was for going too, but Basset had so far given him no indication of any banking decision and he felt he must remain. So Dwight changed his mind and stayed with his friend. It was fortunate he did, for
he was placed next to Elizabeth
, with Ross opposite but one place down, and George on Elizabeth's right, almost within speaking
distance. Ross had Miss Cathlee
n Basset, Lord de Dunstanville's sister, on one side and a man
called Robert Gwatkin on the oth
er. However, in doing justice to all the dishes served, and in having to talk above the hubbub of voices, there was little time for enmity or constraint, and the meal passed well enough. The difficulty came at half past five when the ladies - what there were of them - retired,
leaving gaps, which here and the
re men moved to fill, and the port and brandy went round and now and then brief silences fell as the wine circulated and was poured, and repletion halted talk.

In one of these pauses Gwatkin said: 'I hear you're returning to politics, Mr
Warleggan
.' It was difficult to tell, in the present company, whether the remark was mischievous or innocent.

George turned his head
an
inch or so. 'I shall represent St Michael when Parliament reassembles.'

'Has Wilbraham resigned, then?'

'No, Howell.'

'I hadn't heard.'

'It has not occurred yet.'

Gwatkin circled his brandy in the glass. 'It's good to know more local gentry
are
to represent us. Too often folk
are
nominated and sit in our name when they know nothing of Cornish needs.'

'I believe these pocket boroughs
are
very expensive to maintain,' said the man on Gwatkin's other side. 'Tisn
't just the expense of buying 'e
m, sir; the voters band themselves together and demand this, that and the other before
they'll elect your man. Then, by
God, if you're not careful there's an appeal to the Commons and you have your electio
n made void because of bribery
'

'- What Burke said,' a voice came across the table, cutting their exchange. 'What Burke said, sir! He said that Republicanism in France will be killed by a popular general's sword! And it may not be long afore that happens. Now Buonaparte's failed
at
Acre he'll not be content to stay long in Egypt. There's matters in France he'll want to attend to!'

'To say no
thing of attending to Josephine’
came the reply. There was a general laugh.

'- But the Presbyterians
are
all in Belfast’
came another fragment. 'And they're republicans to a man. A
nd the reason they keep the Cath
olics down is not because the latter
are
heretics but because they support despotism!'

'The
Ulster men are not republican in a French way -

'I never said that - I never said that. But they don't like being under the English heel and they don't like corruption in politics. No taxation without rep
resentation is their cry. And we
know where
that
came from!'

Gwatkin said: 'And you, Captain Poldark, how have you enjoyed your first year at Westminster?'

'Enjoyed,' Ross said slowly. 'That is not an appropriate word. I think I have learned a little. Yawned a littie. Thought I was of use and then thought again.'

'Do you find it corrupt?'

'What is not?'

'Oh dear! This cynicism, sir!'

'Politics
are
of their nature unclean’
said the other man.

Ross drain
ed his glass, dabbed his lips. ‘I
don't know that there is much to choose between politics and other forms of power. Westminster has everything, from the highest ideals to the lowest. What has this town got except the same? In lesser quantity but not in lesser degree.'

'Well, sir, if you refer to politics here -'

'Politics or business. I was thinking then of business.'

'- three million of'em’
said a voice. T tell you, sir, there are three million Catholics in Ireland, or nigh on
that
, and all but a small favoured minority, all reduced lower than the beasts in the field!'

'Heretics to a man!'

'Oh, yes, agreed; but I tell you there's not a negro in the West Indies who has not more to eat in a day than some of those people in a week.'

'That could be said of English labourers. You don't need to go overs
eas.' This was Ralph-Allen Danie
ll
. 'The war has brought the extre
mcst poverty, so that many a man has to choose between crime and starvation.'

'Oh dear’
said
the
first ma
n, 'now I do not know whether we
speak sedition or patriotism!'

Gwatkin said to Ross: 'You talk of business in the town, sir? Do you suppose it to be corrupt? And if so, in what way?'

Ross hesitated, accepted the port decanter as it was passed round, helped himself and handed it on to Dwight. 'This bank failure which has occurred. It was not failure caused by any improvidence on the bank's part but was induced from outside by corrupt power, corruptly employed. Creatures usually hidden under stones emerged to bring this about. Venom is attributed to snakes; but human venom when evidenced in this way makes the rattlesnake seem as blameless as a blind worm.'

Ross felt the warning pressure of Dwight's foot as Dwight handed the port across the empty space to George. Gwatkin was looking startled.

'I live a little out of town and therefore am perhaps out of touch. But I don't understand. Whom
are
you referring to?'

'- But he was murdered!' said a voice. 'Quite clearly, in my opinion. A sedate and sober young cleric like Whitworth! He could never have come off his horse unaided! And a stick in the clearing and a torn cloak!... All the same I'm
not sure I agree with you, Danie
ll, on the causes for the increase in crime. I believe much of it would cease if more of the rogues were strung up!'

'I feel sorry for the young widow. She's pretty enough, but I doubt she'll find a husband again with three children to rear and little money to recommend her.'

'There's money in the family -
his
family - though I imagine tis well tied up.'

With an effort Ross said: 'I refer to those amongst us on whom the obloquy rests. If you do not know their names, Mr Gwatkin, I suggest you ask among the traders of this town; and they will tell you - unless they should be too afraid, lest lying anonymous letters may be circulated about
them.'

George
Warleggan
said: 'Egad, i
t all seems to me
very much a storm in a tea-cup. This trying to find scapegoats for a perfectly normal business failure. I appreciate your loyalty to a friend, Ross; but as often happens with you, it has blinded you to the facts.' He yawned, putting a hand back to his mouth. 'And the facts
are
Harris Pascoe was a silly old man who had no business to have charge of large sums of money belonging to others. If he had ever been capable of it he was long past it, for he allowed Nat Pearce to embezzle large sums of trust money that -'

'You li
e,' said Ross.

There was a moment's pause. Fortunately few had heard, for other talk was still proceeding. But before George could reply or Ross could say more a manservant coughed - and coughed again -behind them.

'Begging your pardon, sirs. Dr Enys, sir. Begging your pardon, Mr Warleggan.' George whirled round and stared at him. 'What is it?' 'Begging your pardon, sir. It's Mrs Warleggan. She's fainted.'

A month passed. Summer light flowed in the sky, and the hay at last was got in. Here and there a few fields still stood and waited, cut and stooked round
the
edges but not yet to the centre, so that they looked like embroidered handkerchiefs. Seagulls called, standing on gateposts, or walked in the fields like ungainly aldermen,
the
wind ruffling their tail coats. Summer clouds drifted like bruises across the sky.

The French were reeling back everywhere
. The Austrians, with a re-consti
tuted army, had defeated them at Magnano. and now came word that the Russians, under the brilliant, eccentric Suvarov, had swept the French before them and entered Milan. The population greeted him with acclaim: a deliverer to save them from their deliverers. A Russo-Turkish fleet had captured Corfu. The French abandoned Naples and began a slow retreat north. All Buonaparte's great conquests were at hazard.

Men's thoughts were turning full circle - from the prospect of a French invasion of England to the prospect of an English invasion of France - or one of her subjugated allies. Few if any more armies were to be sent to garrison the West Indies and to
the
in their thousands of the tropical plagues - negro regiments were to be raised for that, with emancipation as the ultimate reward for recruits: this in
the
teeth of bitter opposition from the planters. The young British army was to train and stay at home, ready for more local and more important adventures.

Elizabeth's fainting fit had been unfortunate for her plan. But worse was to follow, for she developed regular morning sickness; and although she had lied to Dwight when he asked her the obvious question, she could not conceal her sicknesses from George, who had Behenna in daily until, to save further examinations and inquiries, she confessed her condition. George of course was as delighted as she thought he would be. He too wanted a girl (which comforted her, for it showed he had finally accepted Valentine). More than ever she became the prized possession, to be looked after, to be guarded, for she carried the sacred seed.

Her disappointment at not being able to cheat him over dates was not long-lived, for George was so completely at ease with the situation that she forgot her doubts and fears. Indeed he accepted her being with child as a natural bloom upon his present good estate. David Howell had applied f
or the stewardship of the Chilte
rn Hundreds and a new member would have to be found for one of the scats at St Michael. Mr George
Warleggan
had so presented himself, and the writs would soon be cried. Almost certainly he would be returned without the necessity of an election. George had already taken a house in King Street, Mayfair for the winter months. Elizabeth might even have her child in London.

Only one occurrence in late June clouded his horizon.

It had been a long time coming, and it had only come as a result of delicate negotiation and an almost endless weighing of the advantages and disadvantages.
Twice Ross had been called to Te
hidy, on the last occasion when the rest of the banking partners were present. Twice he had visited Basset uninvited. In the intervals he had ridden about the county a great deal, assembling his own forces, gauging their weight - or lack of it - careful never to bluff - swallowing the occasional snub or rejection in a manner quite foreign to his nature, tenaciously refusing to accept defeat when defeat seemed most likely, taking obstacles as they came and taking time to overcome them.
Demelza
had never seen him so determined or so resolute.

On the last Friday in June the
Mercury
carried an announcement which was later repeated in a scries of handbills circulated throughout the business community of central Cornwall. It was to the effect that as from July 1, 1799, Basset, Rogers & Co., Bankers
, of Truro, incorporating Pascoe
's Bank, of the same town, would change its name to The Cornish Bank and would trade as before. Partners in the
new bank were listed as Baron de
Dunstanville of Tehidy, Mr J
ohn Rogers, Mr H. Mackworth Prae
d, Mr He
nry Stackhouse, Mr Harris Pascoe
and Captain R. Poldark.

The final name had been added virtually at the last minute, but, since
the suggestion came from Lord de Dunstanville
, nobody disagreed. Even Ross, to whom it came as much of a surprise as anybody and who certainly had his doubts, did not voice them. As John Rogers said to Mr S
tackhouse
, who had not been at the very last meeting: 'Of course he'll bring no
money.
Nor never
will.
He's not the type to - accumulate. But it's a good name to have. And he's becoming a personality in the county. One never knows quite why this happens, eh? Not so much what a man docs. More a matter of character.'

_{Book Three}