The Black Moon (14 page)

'Who, Paine? God knows. No one knows who is alive
or dead in France today.' There was silence.

Ross said: `I fear I
m
ust refuse.'

Daniell closed the snuff-box and dabbled his nose with a fine but plain cambric handkerchief. Outside some doves were cooing. It was a pleasant sound coming through the open window on the warm August afternoon.

Ross said: `I appreciate your thought and the thought of your friends in inviting me; and in refusing I trust I shall not incur a risk of being considered either ungracious or, sanctimonious. But I cannot bring myself to judge my fellow men.'

`One simply interprets the laws of the land.'

`Yes, but that involves passing judgment. And although I now try to abide by the law, and hope to continue to do so, there have been occasions in the past when I have challenged its validity
-
and there may be occasions in the future when I shall do so again. Not perhaps on my own behalf. I do not personally expect to be without a roof, or to work in life-destroying conditions, or to become crippled with phthisis at thirty, or to see my wife starve or my children crawling naked on the floor of a hut. I do-not expect to be subjected to the temptation of -
stealing firewood to keep warm
or a hare to warm my family's belly. But often in these cases the law makes no allowances for the circumstances in which the crime was committed. It did not there my servant was concerned, and so he went to prison for two years and there died. I am no revolutionary in the Jacobin sense. I believe in the laws of property. I do not like thieves. But the sentences are too severe. If a man came before me accused of trespass and trapping ra
bbits on someone's property, I
would be unable to
avoid asking myself if, in his
circumstances, I should not have done the same. And if I
should have done the same, how can I condemn him?'

`All justice is not blind and brutal.'

`By no means.'

`You would not presumably feel this way about a man who kills another, or who rapes a girl, or who sets fire to a hayrick-'

`Certainly I do not, b
ut they are matters more often dealt with by the higher courts.'

`So for the smaller offences which came before you
,
you could perhaps temper justice with leniency.'

`And fight all my fellows on the bench? Could I see eye
to eye with Hugh
Bodrugan on sentencing a poacher? It would be the start of another civil war!'

Daniell bit his lip and looked up at t
he tall rather gaunt man by his
bookcase. `Serving as a magistrate
, as you'll appreciate, is not
all sitting in judgment on one's fellows. A magistrate wields power in the country both for good and ill. He has much to do wit
h rates and taxes and the uses
they are put to. Building roads, repairing bridges, dredging canals. Much of the administration of the country. An energetic man such as yourself would have many opportunities for service. It would be a pity to turn down the opportunity of doing so much good for fear of doing a little harm.'

Ross shook his head and smiled. `You argue very graciously, Mr Daniell. I wish I could be as gracious in my refusal. If I thought that the men with whom I would be
sharing the bench were in any
way like-minded or even open to argument I might think otherwise. If the laws of the land were becoming more liberal and more lenient I would be happy to try to interpret them. But just now, under the threat of what happened in France, we are going ever backwards. The very talk of leniency, of liberal ideas, of reform, of bettering the conditions of the poor, is tantamount to treason. One is stamp
ed a Jacobin and condemned as a
traitor. Last week a man was hanged in London for taking £1.15.0 out of a shop. Now there is imprisonment without trial. If we speak too forthright in public, none of us is free of the risk. Oh, I know,' he went on, as Daniell was about to speak, `I know very well the excuse, and in some measure I understand it and condone it. But already it has gone too far, further I think than is justified by the public good or in consideration of public safety. In order to defeat a tyranny overseas I believe we are in danger of creating a tyranny ourselves. Do you not see that, holding these opinions as I do, it would be a grave mistake on my part to accept your offer?'

Daniell sighed and stood up. `I understand your reasons. I still think they are not adequate rea
sons. It is for men of liberal
ideas to try to interp
ret the law and to help, to run
the country, not to withdraw and leave it to the harsher spirits. These emergencies will pass. The good governance of the country must continue. However, so be it. Shall we rejoin the ladies? I see them coming up from the river.'

They walked out to
gether, through the hall and on
to the terrace. No one was there yet, except a servant setting another table for tea. In this river valley they were sheltered.

from the. wind, and a great peace` brooded over.
the scene.. The three women made a colourful splash
of heliotrope, ochre and rose-pink against the green background Demelza had taken off her jacket, and her silk blouse glinted in the sun.

`Of course you know,' said Ralph-Allen Daniell. `Or perhaps you do not. Perhaps it is something I should say at this stage . . tell you. Since the need for a new man in your district is really somewhat urgent, a new man will be found. Certainly the other name will now go up. That is if, as I assume, you are quite adamant in your decision . . .' He waited but Ross did not speak. `We shall have to offer this seat on the bench elsewhere, and the most obvious, indeed the only other candidate of appropriate standing, is George Warleggan.'

Demelza waved her scarf. Ross did not wave hack.

`An admirable choice,' he said, his voice betraying only a little of his feelings. `Warleggan has all the qualities that I lack.'

`And lacks many of the qualities that you have. I think it a pity, Captain Poldark Well, my dears, did you enjoy your stroll?'

They stayed until nine, drinking tea and munching biscuits and sweet cakes and talking amiably of this and that. Daniell offered them a bed, apologizing for not having included this in his invitation, but they politely refused, and after a pleasant leave-taking rode back up the valley and joined the turnpike road to Truro. They were in the Red Lion Inn by eleven, where Gimlett had
already arrived bearing clean
sheets and to make sure the room was clean and properly prepared for them and that there was adequate service and accommodation for their hor
ses. Except for ticketings, it
was the first time Ross had been in the inn since the occasion of his brawl with George three years ago, when in a last flicker of anger he had pushed the innkeeper to the gro
und as well; but the little man
was clearly pleased to see his important client and to let bygones be bygones. Ross tried to be as gracious as he could over their light supper, but he was somehow now quite in the mood to unbend convincingly. Demelza, who had thoroughly enjoyed her day, could not understand him, and it was not until they were alone together in the bedroom that he told her of, the offer Ralph-Allen Daniell had made and of his reply;
`Oh, Ross,' she said

`What do you mean? Oh. Ross!'

`Well, I know how you feel and I'm glad that's how you feel;
but it do seem such a pity.'

`A pity that I have these feelings?'

'No. A pi
ty that you had to
refuse because of them. I think . . . tis wrong that you should not m
ix more with your own folk and
and be a person of importance amon
g them. This was a chance to be
. I want you to have the respect you are entitled to.'

`Which you think I
now don't receive. Thank you.'

`Ross, don't get teasy with me. I am sorry if what I've said is not pleasing to you. Of course whatever you think is best for yourself, I accept that. But a person has a rightful place in the world, and yours is
-
is in some such position. You are by birth a squire and
-
and seeing to the law is what squires do. It grieves me that you had to refuse.'

`You'd think
better of me if I were some pot—
bellied liver-grown stinking old lecher like your bed-friend Hugh Bodrugan who drinks himself under the table six times weekly and has a ready hand for any woman's skirt or blouse which happens to be conveniently within reach. You'd admire my position in the world then? You'd think this showed me to be a person of importance?'

`No, Ross, it would not; and you know I did not mean that.
And you
know too that Hugh Bodrugan has never been my
bedfellow. Nor has my
skirt or blouse ever been conveniently in reach for him.'

`Would you like me to be a hypocrite, fawning on people who have power so that a little may come my way? So 'that I may strut and crow on my own little dung-hill? Would you like me to be pompous, arrogant, blown up with my own conceit, seeing myself as a little god dispensing judgment on other lesser creatures? Would you like-.'

`Please, Ross, unfasten this button. My blouse has been tight all day. I think, I believe I shall not be able to wear it again until after November.'

He looked at the back of her neck, at the wisps of hair curling on the pale skin. He undid the three buttons and turned in furious irritation away. They spoke no more until they were both undressed and in bed. Ross put out two candles and left one burning. It was smoky, and the smoke curled upwards like
a wisp of her hair. He tried to
control his unreasoning resentment.

`St you think I did wrong,' he said.

`How can I say? How 'can it be wrong to do what you believe is right?'

He had not told her of the man likely to be appointed in his place.

`It was a splendid party,' she said. `But that Frenchman
…’

'Ralph-Allen Danielle is to be High Sheriff of Cornwall next year. Did you not hear them say it at the dinner table?'

'No. What is that? It sounds that impressive.'

`Maybe they were vetting us - see
ing how you could behave
and that I did not wear a tricolour as a cravat. Valletort is the Lord Lieutenant's son, you know. Old Mount Edgcumbe. Did you like him?'

`I hardly spoke to him
- I liked his wife. If that is high society, then I think I liked it, Ross. Better than what I've seen before.'

`Yes, it is a cut above the Assembly Ball. There is a stage at which the possession of money justifies itself by enabling - its possesor to become urbane, cultured, refined and elegant. When this happens there is probably no better society in the world.'

`I hope
'

`What?'

"That we shall be in it again sometime!

`I do not imagine my refusal of this office will endear me to them. Those we met today are the progressives, who in better times would be the reformers, who pride themselves on openness of mind. But I suspect that at this juncture even they will tend to reason that who is not for them is against them. It is a tendency in time of stress and war. At present the landed gentry of England are seeing bloody revolution behind every drawn shutter.'

`Oh, well . . .' She gave a little philosophic shrug. `... we have so much to be thankful for. It is not important. You have brought the list of what we are going to buy tomorrow?'

`Yes. It is a foot long.'

`Good. Then let us think of that, Good night, Ross.'. `Good night.'

He snuffed out the final candle. The only light then was from the lantern in the passage slanting in under the illfitting door. From downstairs came a loud murmur, occasionally interspersed by shouts, from the tap-room;
They'
both
lay quiet,.. thinking their own thoughts. And both knew that, however much they bought tomorrow, however extravagant in their purchases they became, the events of today had taken the savour out of it.,

George received the inv
itation in September by letter,
and, after a suitable delay, replied saying he would be pleased to accept the Lord Chancellor's appointment.

He had hoped for something like this but had thought it probable that he would have to wait until either Horace Treneglos or, Ray Penvenen died. He h
ad only been living at Trenwith
a year; nor was he permanently in residence, though he had stayed deliberately longer here than convenience dictated. He had wanted to be accepted in the district, but often he had fancied himself cold-shouldered by people like the Bodrugans and the Trevaunances. This appointment was an important evidence of acceptance. Money talked. Money would soon talk before breeding.

It was the more pleasing because three years ago
his father had tried to get him
elected a Capital Burgess of the city of Truro and had failed. His father was both a burgess and a magistrate, and had been of real value to the town; he had also been a constant, ready and vocal supporter of Viscount Falmouth, in everything that that gentleman projected; but when George's name
came up to fill a vacancy his
lordship had put someone else forward, and that was that. Ho
wever hard the Warleggans tried
to be nice to the Boscawens, the Boscawens were never quite nice enough in return. The reason was perfectly clear, though the Warleggans only partly perceived it. Lord Falmouth controlled the borough and the corporation. As an aristocrat with enormous landed possessions he was used to the deference of people like Hick and Cardew and the other members of the corporation. Such men did not presume to friendship. But it was not so easy to extend the same sort of patronage to a man who owned five hundred acres and a house
- nearly as big as Tregothnan, as well as the bigges
t house in Truro, and had such
substantial banking, smelting and mining interests as to put him among the richest in the county. So Lord Fal
mouth had decided that one Warleggan on the corporation - was sufficient for the time being.

This success in a country district, therefore, where prejudices and cliquishness among the older families were at their strongest, was a signal advance. And it owed nothing to his commercial power in Truro. It warmed him though.

Of course he hid his pleasure from Elizabeth, telling her casually at supper one night, saying he had quite forgotten to mention it before.

She said: `Oh, I'm glad. Francis used to complain of it as a nuisance, but I used to think an interest in other people's affairs took him out of his own.'

Her tone, as
casual as his but genuinely so, nettled him. Naturally to her and her like it did come as a 'matter of course
’
. Jonathan had beco
me a magistrate when his father
died: there was no achievement in it, it w
as simply the boring duty of
a gentleman.

`Yes, well, they will have to do with me when
I
am here. They must know we shall be in Truro a large part of the winter.'

`Have you yet settled on a date to return?'

`We have nothing social until the 5th October. I would have
thought the end of this month, if that is convenient to you.' 'I shall be glad of the change.' `Why?'

`Why?' She, looked' up at him.
`Should I not
be? The weather has broken and shows no sign of picking; up. Last year, being with child, I was
not able to enjoy things in
a normal way. Now I look forward to seeing my friends - and yours the concerts, the card parties, the balls. It is a change of scene.'

He bent to his meal again, satisfied by what she said. Ever since they married he had felt some reluctance in her to stay at Trenwith, and he had often wondered if there were more behind it than he \knew. Of course before they married he had promised her a life at Cardew, but when it, came to the point his father had not been prepared to vacate the, house. In his effort to convince her that marriage to him offered everything she wanted, George had been guil
ty of one or two exaggerations,
of which this was the greatest. Elizabeth had tried to hide her disappointment, but it was more evident now since Valentine was born. George always suspected that this desire to leave Trenwith was in fact a
desire to put more di
stance between herself and Ross
Poldark.

This was their only meal alone. Two years of marriage had seen subtle changes in the relationship which the birth of Valentine had accentuated. George had deeply desired only one woman in his life,
and his achievement of this end
had brought him immense gratification. He had taken Elizabeth with all the passion in his nature, and to his particular delight had found her responding in a similar way; for he was
not to know that there
was more reactive anger than genuine passion in the response. The immediate consequence was that both put out more emotion than it would have been their normal nature to do, and fusion was exceptional for them both. But Elizabeth's early pregnancy had been an excuse to descend from these summits, and they had never been scaled again. George in his nature was cold, and Elizabeth no longer had to prove anything to herself. Since Valentine's birth she had not refused him, but it was a proposal and an acquiescence, not a mutual need.

They were both aware of this. George knew what happened to some women temporarily after they had borne a child. He knew how it had been between her and Francis after the birth of Geoffrey Charles. That it had not been so after the birth of Valentine gave him satisfaction. In any case for the time being he was content. The possession of Elizabeth was almost enough on any, terms. The emotional demands upon himself were the less. And Elizabeth was content with this damping down of a relationship she was not sure she had ever wanted.

But in spite of this cooling in a physical sense, there was little lack of amity in their daily dealings. From the very first days of their marriage George had been gratified by the degree to which Elizabeth was prepared to identify her interests with his
-
even in her hostility towards the Poldarks, of
Nampara. When he married her h
e had thought her as frail and beautiful as a butterfly; marrying her ministered to his protective as well as his possessive instincts. But while he still saw her as both physically frail and beautiful, he had found her possessed of a good brain, a common sense as level as his own, an ability to manage a household without his assistance and an interest in his career
which never failed to surprise
him. It was not an accident that she had survived for nearly two years as a widow and run this big
house ,with no help, n
o
man and no
money.

The only point at issue between them of late had been,
as usual Geoffrey Charles. Elizabeth expected him to spend the autumn with them in Truro, but George argued that if he were likely to go away to school in a year or so it would be better for him to learn to be without his mother for periods of time. Leaving him at Trenwith in the charge of his governess and his uncle and aunt would be a gentle way of severing the tie. Personally Elizabeth saw no reason to
sever
the tie as yet-she saw no reason in fact why he should ever go away to school
-
but after a good deal of rather
tight
argument, in which much was felt but little said, she eventually yielded.

So Geoffrey Charles was to stay. After supper that night Elizabeth came on Morwenna sewing in the winter parlour.

`Oh, Morwenna, there is something I had intended to have mentioned to you. It is true, is it, that you have been riding on Hendrawna Beach?'

The girl put down the needle work she was doing, She needed no glasses for this close work. `Yes. Did Geoffrey Charles tell you?'

'He did not volunteer, the information. I found sand in his pocket and asked him.'

`Yes,' said Morwenna. `We have been several times. Was that wrong?'

`Not wrong. But straying further afield than I have the fancy for you doing.'

`I'm sorry. It is in fact less far than we ride the other way. But it you do not wish us to, we need not go there again.'

'How do you get on? Do you go through Nampara land?' 'No. `I thought from what you said you'd not like us to
do that, so we go round by Marasanvose and through the
sandhills which I believe belong to Mr Treneglos.' 'Keigwin goes with you?'

`Oh, yes. Though sometimes Geoffrey Charles has a fancy
to walk and then we walk on alone.'

`He is a strong-willed boy. You must not let him get the
upper hand of you.'

Morwenna, smiled. `I do not think he does, Elizabeth. But
he is not so much strong-will
ed as
persuasive.'

Elizabeth smiled too and put a hand to turn the handle of
her
old spinning-wheel. She had not used it for over a year. Morwenna said: `There is a holy well among the low
cliffs
about a
half way along the beach. If you have not
seen
it
’

`I have not seen it.'

`Geoffrey Charles would greatly wish to take you
there,
I know. And beyond that are some caves which are quite fantastical. It is like going into a great abbey. But all dripping water. Very eerie and strange. Why do you not ride with us one day, Elizabeth?'

Morwenna's eyes had an unusual brilliance, Elizabeth thought. Perhaps it was some trick of the candlelight.

She said : `Some day, perhaps. Next summer. But now the days are drawing in and there is the risk of strong tides I would feel better pleased if you did not go on another beach this year.'

`We are very careful.'

`I would prefer you not to have to take that sort of care.'

`Very well, Elizabeth. Geoffrey Charles will be greatly disappointed, but whatever you say, of course, we will do.'

There was something vaguely combative in the words which contrasted with Morwenna's normal quietness of tone. Elizabeth's sharp perception picked it up, but she did not feel there was anything she could really query. Geoffrey Charles, she thought, had also been secretive. If necessary she would get the-secret out of him.

Morwenna turned again to her needlework. Very eerie and fantastical: that was what the day had been. A meeting with Drake at ten
-
he had somehow got off work
-
a brilliant morning with clouds building up for afternoon rain; a mile walk along the shi
ning ochre sand-soft today from
some freak of the tide so that their footsteps were left in a deep track behind them; Geoffrey Charles running to and from the edge of the water laughing with delight at its lick on his bare feet; the two young adults walking more gravely and talking together, laughing togethe
r sometimes at Geoffrey Charles,
as if seeking excuse and common ground for expressing their pleasure at being alive and in each other's company; their approach to the great caves, not so long since vacated by the sea and still a-drip with water; the wide pool at the mouth of them, and Geoffrey Charles pulling up his trousers as far as he could and splashing through it; of Drake's offering to carry her and her refusal, instead going behind a rock and taking off boots and stockings, then walking skirtheld through graspingly cold water over the knees and safely to the other side; the scraping of tind
er to make a light,
the
smoking tallow candles on old miners' hats Drake had brought for them, the exploration through slithering seaweed and among driftwood and the flotsam of the tide ever further and deeper into the echoing reaches of the caves. She was always afraid of enclosed places, and this was no exception; and she was afraid of the great white surf roaring not so far away, lest the tide might turn treacherously and cut-them off. But the fear added to the excitement and was bearable because it could be shared among them, and particularly with him. It was not a situation, her, attraction for this rough young carpenter, that she could accept or be content with in rational moments; but nothing, no prohibition of class or creed, could have prevented her absorbed enjoyment of the morning
.

Elizabeth had said something.

`I'm sorry. I was dreaming. Excuse me.'

`As the autumn comes on, I would advise you not go far afield, even with Keigwin as your escort. The village folk are law-abiding, and in any case know you and respect you; but the harvest has failed and that must lead to more poverty and distress. And the further you stray the more likely it would be that some harm would befall you. Indeed, as the bad weather comes it would be safer not to take Geoffrey Charles out of the bounds at al
l. Remember, this is his first
year of comparative freedom, and we should not overdo it.'

They had not overdone it, surely, that morning, though the morning had not ended with the exploration of the caves. After they had come out i
nto the air again the sun had been a hot eye burning them
- the sky a meridian blue, with a ridge of cloud creeping up from, the north as black as a black sheep's fleece; and Drake had stripped to his trousers and gone jumping into the heavy wave
s that rumbled on the sand. Not
to be outdone, Geoffrey Charles, ignoring Morwenna's protests, had stripped himself of everything and gone in naked. Morwenna had followed to the edge and had stood there watching them while the bubbling froth swirled and ebbed about her legs. Afterwards they had lain drying behind a rock in the hot sun, Geoffrey Charles for decency's sake covered by his undershirt. Had they overdone it? Was such exquisite pleasure forbidden and wrong?

`Morwenna!' said Elizabeth sharply.

`I am indeed sorry, Elizabeth; I was thinking. Forgive me again.'

`I was saying that I hope while I am away that you will
keep him closely to his,
studies. In a
year or so, Mr War
leggan is determined to
send him away to school, perhaps to Bristol, or even as far as London. It is essential therefore that he keeps attentive to his work, particularly to his Latin.'

`I will do my best to keep him at his studies,' said Morwenna.