The Loving Cup (10 page)

'Are you thinking that a privateer out of Falmouth would be more to your taste?'

Stephen looked at Jeremy and half grinned. 'Not exactly, like. I have a mind to invest in the pilchard fishing. Or in a roundabout way, like, that's what it'll amount to. An
d no one can say - not even the
Poldark family can say there is aught illegal in that.'

'Well, tell us all about it,' said Paul, it is clear that you are dying to.'

‘I
don't think it matters what my family thinks,' Jeremy said, 'if you -'

'It still matters to him what Clowance thinks,' said Paul. 'Eh?
...
Well, I'll say in f
ront of her brother that she's a
handsome girl and a good catch. I'd try the water myself if she gave me half a hope of finding it tepid. If you marry Daisy, Jeremy, we could maybe have a double relationship.'

Jeremy's race was quite expressionless. 'What is this scheme you have, Stephen?'

Stephen was sorting through a few documents left in his bag. He looked up. 'Earlier this summer I was in St Ives -fishermen there - we were talking this way and that: d'ye know what they got for their pilchards last year? I'll tell you. Fifteen shillings a hogshead. As one of them said: it did not pay for the salt and the nets. And that in a sore year - when food was bitter scarce all over the county. But d'ye know what some others got? I'll
give you a guess. They got 15s
-
a hogshead - more than a dozen times as much. Same quality fish caught in the same type of boats.'

Paul said: 'This is a riddle?'

'No. Just that some were more enterprising than others. They sold 'em in their natural markets.' 'Spain?'said Jeremy. 'Italy in this case.'

'What d'you mean - they ran the blockade?'

'Just that. The French can't patrol all the ports they own, any more than we can patrol all the high seas.'

Jeremy fingered his bag but again did not untie the cord. He was still reluctant to handle die money, to touch it

"Was it one of the export firms - like Fox's of Falmouth— who broke the blockade?'

..
'Nay. As well you might guess. Too scared for their vessels. Nay, twas little men - in their own boats - taking a three month trip and coming home with gold in their pockets - chiefly from St Ives and - they said - Mevagissey and Fowey. Not a dozen in all. But not one was stopped.' 'And you propose ?'

'To do it on a bigger scale this year. Likely it will be the same conditions—a glut of fish; no one to buy 'em—farmers taking 'em at knock-down prices and using, them for manure in their fields. I reckon I can just about afford to furnish o.ut a couple of vessels, make 'em suitable for such cargo, buy the pilchards after curing, pay over the market price to get the best, send the vessels out, maybe go with one of 'em; make a handsome profit that way.'

Paul was listening with his head on one side as if to hear something more behind the words.

'Are you serious?'

'No one's forcing ye to believe me.'

'And what have you done about it so far?'

'Nothing. Yet.'

'And when shall you start?
’

'I shall be at St Ives on Tuesday week bidding for the
Chasse Maree.'

'What's that in Heaven's name?'

'A French prize. She's not big, but big enough - about 80 ton. Fir built. Equipped in every way. She's called a fishing boat - and been used as one, ye can see - but her lines are clean. No doubt she's been used for deep sea work - with the speed to bring her catch in while tis still fresh. But I can see marks on her decks where guns have been fitted. I reckon she's been used for a little privateering now and then. She'll suit for the work I want.'

'What will she take?' "

'What, carry?'

'Yes.'

'Well, it will need a little more careful working out than I have yet been able to do; but I would suspect two hundred and twenty-five to two hundred and fifty hogsheads. In that neighbourhood.'

'Um
.' Paul nodded his head. 'If you make a gross profit of £8 a hogshead
...
You've your crews topay and feed - but still
...
It looks handsome enough. What do you think, Jeremy?'

‘I
think it is likely to take more than three months to sail, say, to Genoa and back. And shall you expect to come home in ballast?'

'I had thought to bring back salt and wine.'

'Both contraband,' said Paul. 'You said you were turning over a new leaf.'

'So I am, so I am. No one in Cornwall even pretends to disapprove of contraband, as you call it. Even Captain Poldark, even Dr Enys, they were both engaged in it once upon a
time
.'

Paul laughed. "Well, yes, I suppose it is "turning over a new leaf for a man wanted for two hanging offences.'

Stephen said harshly: 'Never forget, Paul, that you're wanted for one of 'em, and maybe the first one as well. Accessory's the word they use!'

'Now,, now,' Jeremy said quietly. 'Remember: "when thieves fall out..."'

After a moment Paul said: 'Oh, we're not falling out that bad. A little jesting, eh? I'm grateful to Stephen for what he did in Plymouth Dock. Else I might be a pressed man in the navy.'

Jeremy took a candle and went to put his sack back under the tarpaulin at the distant end of the shaft. He returned with a small metal cup. It had been in one of the bags they had taken from the strong boxes and was of silver, but tiny, little more than three inches b
road, with its two handles, by
two and a half inches high. Engraved round the rim were the words:
Amor gignit amor
em.

'And what shall we do with this?'

There was a pause.

'Melt it down,' said Paul.

‘I
t is so light,' Jeremy said, 'it would hardly pay for the firing.'

'Throw it in the sea,'said Stephen.

‘I
t would seem a pity. But I expect you're right.'

Stephen said. 'You're not
touching
your share, Jeremy. I can see that.'

'Have no fear. I will in due course.'

'Come in as my partner. I'm having a fishing vessel built too. A small drifter type of about sixty ton. I put the order in last week. This war cannot last for ever; nor can the conditions we can make use of this year. I say, make the most of 'em. Then when it's over, trading by sea won't end. It will
expand.
Folk who've two or three vessels in commission can use
those
conditions too. And legitimate if need be. If I buy the
Chasse Marie
.
I shall be stretched right for money. Yours would come in very handy. We could start an exporting line: Carrington and Poldark. Carrington
&
Co. if you don't fancy it being publicly known. Why not sail to Italy with me this autumn? It will be an adventure, more surely than just going to the Scillies.' 'I'll think on it,' said Jeremy.

II

Later the same day Geoffrey Charles was walking beside the old pond of Trenwith when he saw a small procession wending its way up the weed-grown drive. In the lead by a few paces on an elderly mare was a thin dark man; behind him on two ponies a dark woman in a long grey linen riding cloak and a girl of about twelve, hair in pigtails, bare legs showing under a dimity skirt.

Geoffrey Charles had been linking his wife, but he lifted both hands to squint into the sun - then he let out a whoop.

'My love, forgive me, it is Drake!'

He leapt across a narrow angle of the pool, splashed through a few feet of shallow mud and ran towards the convoy. As he neared it, the dark man saw him, called to his ladies and slid out of the saddle.

The men met equidistant from their respective wives. They stopped a few feet apart, then grasped hands. After a moment Geoffrey Charles took the other by the biceps, laughed, and kissed him on both cheeks.

'Drake, Drake, Drake, Drake, Drake!' he said, his voice breaking and tears in his eyes. 'So-o
..
.-After all these years! I can scarcely believe it!'

'Geoffrey Charles! I can scarce believe it neither! Indeed I can hardly think tis you, though, you're looking brave an' happy. My dear, you sent for me!'

'Indeed.' They broke from their affectionate clasp and Geoffrey Charles took a dozen giant strides to help the lady as she dismounted. 'Morwenna.
Ma foi! Ma petite!’
He
took her in his arms and gave her a smacking kiss which knocked her glasses askew. 'And how is my governess? Blooming, it seems! What pleasure to see you again! And Loveday
...'
He went to the second pony and kissed the girl as he lifted her down. 'My dear, you have grown so much -grown so much!' Drake Carne said: in wisdom and in stature and in God's esteem.' But he said it with a little smile that took the starch out of it.

'You still pursue that outl
andish Methodism?' 'After a fashion. But we take in small doses - not like Sam.'

'All things should be taken in small doses,' said Geoffrey Charles, 'except friendship and love. Come, Amadora, don't hang back, come and meet my dear friends. Drake, Morwenna, this is my wife, my dearly loved and honoured wife, whom I have brought to Cornwall specially to meet you.'

They shook hands,
Drake bowing over th
e hand, Love
day dropping a curtsy. All was conversation, laughter, chatter as they walked the horses slowly towards the front door. Drake had put on weight; one could not see the bones of his shoulder blades through his jacket any more; his hair had thinned but was still raven black; his face had more colour, but perhaps that was just the zest of the arrival. Morwenna seemed unchanged; short-sighted, shy, withdrawn, just as he remembered her seven years ago when he called in at Looe, just as he remembered her when she first came as his governess nineteen years ago. Loveday had the fine skin and dark hair of both her parents, but was of an age when child charm had gone and the looks of adolescence were yet a little way off.

At the front door Geoffrey Charles produced a whistle. Its shrilling brought a young man trotting round from the back, who raised his eyebrows and grinned at Drake.

'Well, I'll be darned,' said Drake. 'Tis young Tredinnick! But gracious knows whether tis Jack or Paul.'

'Jack, sur. Paul's still wi'your brother, sur.'

‘I
do not have servants as such,' Geoffrey Charles explained,
‘
as yet; I have helpers to whom I pay what they consider a reasonable fee. Jack is here to help.'

'Aye, sur; that we all do, sur. Glad to see ee, Mr
Carne
. An' Mrs
Carne
too. And Miss
Carne
, I s'pose.'

'Please to come in,' said Amadora, to Morwenna. 'Geoffrey Charles have so often spoke. This is the way. But you have known this house. You shall remember it well.'

'I am so happy for you, Mrs Poldark,' Morwenna said. 'For you both.' She looked round the small entrance hall as she entered it. She gave a little shiver.

'You feel cold? When you shall have ridden so far?'

'No, no. Far from cold,' said Morwenna.
‘
Very far from cold.'

They ate together in the winter parlour, which the young Poldarks were at present using as a dining room; the first night in the great hall had been for fun, for love, for excitement, for the sexual challenge; after that, when they came down to earth, it was too big for two.

Everyone on best behaviour, everyone so obviously wanting to do and say the right thing, Geoffrey Charles more hearty than natural, Morwenna, never a conversationalist, making a tremendous effort to join in, only Loveday excusably silent. Morwenna had wanted to get up and help Maud Tredinnick, Jack's wife, who waited at table; Amadora concerned for the cooking of the food, which was being do
ne by Ann Bottrell, Ned Bottrell’
s wife from Grambler; but to each stirring at the table Geoffrey Charles was adamant. They should sit and wait properly and it should be done. And it was done. And the wine going down with the food was gradually relaxing nerves, easing tensions, making the genuine goodwill flow more naturally.

'We shall give a big party,' Geoffrey Charles said. 'A very big party. I had thought at first it should be a house-warming, when everyone should come to welcome us home. Until we saw 'the home'. Then it became quite clear that if we did not wish to run the risk of some guest disappearing through the floorboards or a nervous lady finding a rat anxious to share her fruit syllabub, we should have to wait. So now it may become a house-cooling party - held perhaps a week before we leave. Or a middle-of-the-stay party when we have not grown tired of you all or outlasted our welcome. How long can you remain, Drake?'

'Here? Oh, I dunno. Did you wish for us to stay very long?'

'So long as you can. So long as you are happy here. You know how much I would have liked you both - you all - to make this your permanent home, to have cared for it while we were away, to have shared it with us when we eventually return for good. That is all now a cloud-cuckoo dream, I suppose? You are firmly tooted in Looe?...'