For Demelza the heat had gone out of the day. ‘But even if you are short sighted, there must be naval work ashore, or . . .’
‘Not with this verdict over me. They think I have a short time.’
‘A short time?—’
‘Oh, it is all dressed up in the Latin tongue like ribbons on a maypole, but what emerges is their opinion that there is something amiss behind the eyes and that in six months or so I shall be following in Milton’s footsteps, though without a suitable share of his talent.’
III
Hugh said: ‘Is this the season for the young to be born?’
‘Not usually for this kind. Most seals have the young now, yes, but these – these are usually born later – September or October. Or that’s what I’ve noticed. I don’t really belong to know much about them.’
‘And the breeding season?’
‘Much the same. You should hear them then – they go on and make such a noise.’
‘Demelza, do not look so sad, or I shall regret having told you.’
‘How can I be anything else?’
‘Perhaps they’ll be wrong. Doctors know very little even these times. And today is fine; remember what Dryden said.’
‘Why did you tell me, then? Why?’
‘Because no one else yet knows – I have kept it from my family – and I had to tell someone – and you are my closest friend.’
She studied and perceived the tensions and the bitterness under his bantering tone. ‘That makes it worse.’
‘Explain to me more about this cave.’
‘It’s just over there. No more’n a quarter of a mile. If you use your left oar. It’s – a big cave. There used to be a mine that drained into it in the olden days but it’s been dead for half a century or more. Later in the year tis crowded – the rocks are crowded with seals. Now – I’d expect some – it is just luck.’
‘Please. I am sorry I said anything now.’
‘Would you expect me to be joyful and act as if nothing had happened?’
‘No . . . I’m sorry. I was selfish in not realizing what it would mean to you. I am – very flattered.’
‘Don’t be. It is not to flatter you that I am upset.’
He shipped his oars and took a deep breath. ‘So . . . but it must not spoil today. Of course I should have written, told you. But look – look at me, listen to me . . .’
‘Well . . .’ She raised her eyes.
‘We live in an uncertain world,’ he said gently. ‘At its best life is short. Tomorrow the French or the Dutch may land, and ravage and kill and burn. Next week the cholera may come in in a ship at Padstow or Falmouth. Or the smallpox rage. Six months! Even if they’re not wrong there’s still six months. What would those naval mutineers now waiting trial give for six months of life and laughter? “Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.” Can’t I persuade you to forget what I’ve told you – or at least to ignore it?’
‘Well, it’s easier said than done.’
‘Smile at me, please. When I saw you first you didn’t smile all through dinner, and it was not until we went down to the lake afterwards . . . It was like someone spilling diamonds.’
‘Oh, nonsense, Hugh.’
‘Come, please. Just a little one. I’ll not row you till you do.’
‘I can row myself,’ said Demelza.
‘That would be mutiny on the high seas and I have no convenient yard-arm.’
Demelza smiled uncertainly and he gave a little whoop of joy.
‘Quiet!’ she said. ‘You’ll scare them. They scare easy and then you’ll never see one for all your trouble.’
‘Seals?’ said Hugh. ‘Ah, yes, was that what we came out to see?’
He unshipped his oars, and, obeying her instructions, began to paddle towards the cliffs.
The sun was overhead and shadows were at their shortest. Because of the angle of the coast to the sun the face of the cliff was sunlit, and even when they were ten feet from the rocks they were still in full light. Demelza again wanted to take the oars, for she knew they had to approach the cave from an angle so as not to disturb their quarry. But he still rowed. Already ten or a dozen great cow seals had slithered off the rocks as they approached.
On the rocks near the mouth of the cave was the wreck of a ship. Most of it had been pounded to pieces long ago, but a few spars and the bow had become wedged where they were protected from the weight of the waves, and seaweed hung from them like shrouds from a corpse. Opposite it was a strip of fine sand no more than thirty feet across with sharply shelving sides.
They could hear the hooting coughs of the seals, and now and then a strange moaning wail which might have come from a human throat in distress, as if long-drowned mariners were hiding in the cave. Here, in spite of the calmness of the weather, one was conscious of a rise and fall of the sea, not so much a wave as the breath of an ocean.
‘I don’t think we’ve disturbed them,’ Demelza said, as they came round the corner.
At the entrance of the cave, sunning themselves on the rocks, were a score or more of grey seals, some large, some half grown. Hugh stopped rowing and the boat drifted slowly towards them. At first it seemed that the mammals did not notice the intruders, then that they were merely curious and not at all alarmed. The eyes of one after another settled on the dinghy. Their faces were human, or half human, and old-young, childish and whiskered, innocent yet worldly wise. One of them gave a curious hooting sound, and a small one, its calf, responded with a whiskery bleat. Another yawned. Mixed noises came from inside the cave.
Demelza said in a low voice: ‘I hear tell they’re awful fond of music. Sometimes, they say, Pally Rogers comes out here with his flute and they all gather round his boat.’
They had drifted a little too near one cow, and she rose, curving her back upwards, and threw herself farther up the rocks with a series of convulsive jerks. The sun was too warm for her to want to take to the sea.
‘I wish my aunt were here,’ said Hugh. ‘And the children. Yet I would be a little concerned lest, if this group took suddenly to the water, they might upset the boat.’
‘It’s possible.’
‘You can swim?’
‘. . . I could keep afloat, I b’lieve.’
After a few moments he said: ‘I’m sorry they’re not here for they’d be enchanted. But I’m happy they’re not here because I am enchanted.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Oh, not with the seals, though I never thought I should see them so well, and thank you for bringing me. My enchantment is in spending the morning with you.’
‘Well,’ said Demelza uncertainly. ‘The morning is half gone, so I think we should just go into the cave a little and then start home.’
The dinghy had come to a stop and was grating against a seaweedy rock. Just then the ocean breathed again and Hugh had to make a sudden movement with an oar to prevent danger. This was enough for the seals. One after another they dragged their fat sleek bodies laboriously across the rocks with their forepaws and slid and dived and belly-flopped into the sea. For a few moments all was commotion; heads and bodies swirled and snorted close beside the boat; it rocked and lurched, and the quiet rock-strewn sea was a-boil with little waves. Then as quickly as it had begun the storm died, the boat settled and they were left gazing at the empty rocks, in silence except for a disturbed seagull crying.
Demelza laughed and wiped the splashes of sea water from her face and frock.
Hugh said: ‘You had the worst of that!’
‘Twill help cool me. I don’t think we have scared the greybeards in the cave. But go cautiously and not too far in.’
Around them the sea was an iridescent blue pierced by the black shadows of the rocks, but at the mouth of the cavern where the sun was not falling it turned to a limpid jade green which lit up the roof of the big cave with a dim reflected light. As they went into this world the light faded, and, peering after the bright sun, they could just see that the cave went far back
into the distant darkness. But not far to their left was a branch cave with a pebbly beach littered with driftwood, seaweed and cuttle-fish bones. On this beach great dark shapes lay. Hugh put his oars down to slow their movement as twenty or more grey faces peered at them, older than those they had seen outside, fiercer, more burdened down with the knowledge of good and evil, of the search for life and inevitable death.
One of them set up a terrible low moaning in the dark. It was a cry out of the wind and the waves, yet it seemed to have humanity in it as well as the sea. It was a cry without enmity but without hope. Then suddenly they moved: an avalanche of flapping forms seemed to launch itself in an attack on the boat. The dinghy lurched wildly, was half swamped in foamy water, was bumped and pitched and tossed amid a frenzy of magnified bellows and grunts; and it crashed hard against the rock wall of the cave. Then once again it began to settle and they stared at the great shiny grey creatures swivelling and turning in the water as they rushed out to sea.
IV
The show was over. Hugh paddled back into the sunshine. There was six inches of water in the dinghy, but he peered over the side where they had struck the rock and there was no damage except a few dents in the stout planking. They were both wet and they were both laughing. Not a seal was in sight.
‘More than ever,’ he said, ‘I’m relieved we did not bring Mrs Gower. Do you invite all your friends to this delightful experience?’
‘I’ve never been in the cave myself before!’ she said.
He laughed again. ‘Well, I’m glad we ventured. But I suppose if we had lost the boat there was no way back?’
‘I b’lieve we could have climbed.’
He frowned as he peered up at the cliffs. ‘I’m used to climbing to the trees, but I shouldn’t have fancied that. I am sorry you’re so wet.’
‘I am sorry you are so wet.’
He peered around. ‘That strip of sand. We can get the water out of the boat. Otherwise you would have wet feet all the way home.’
‘It’s not important. I shall catch no chill.’
But he rowed towards the beach and jumped ashore. As she followed him the ocean breathed again and lifted the dinghy with ironical gentleness so that it was aground with no effort at all. Forgetting his views on her frailty, he allowed her to help him turn the boat until the water was drained out. Then they both sat on the sand looking at their clothes and allowing them to dry off in the sun.
He said: ‘Demelza.’
‘Yes.’
‘I wish you’d let me make love to you.’
‘Jesus God,’ she said.
‘Oh, I know it is – ill of me to say such a thing. I know it is both unfair and indiscreet of me even to utter such a thought. I know it looks as if I am trading on this kindness you are doing to me in an unforgivable way. I know it seems – must seem – utterly despicable of me to attempt, or even to think of attempting, the virtue of a woman married to the man who saved me from prison. I know all that.’
She said, stumbling over the words: ‘We had better start for home now.’
‘Give me five minutes – if only sitting here with you.’
‘To say what more?’
‘Perhaps to explain a little of what I feel – so that you shall not think too harshly of me.’
She crumbled the fine sand in her hand. Her head was down and her hair fell forward over most of her face. She had kicked off her shoes, and her feet were sunk in the sand.
‘I cannot think harshly of you, Hugh, even though I cannot understand how you can say it, especially today.’
He brushed the water off his shirt. ‘Let me explain about one thing first. You think this is a terrible thing, asking you to be disloyal to Ross. And on the narrowest terms it is. But – how can I try to make it more clear? By giving love you do not diminish it. By loving me you would not destroy your love for Ross. Love only creates and adds to itself, it never destroys. You do not betray your love for Ross by offering some of your love to me. You add to it. Tenderness is not like money: the more you give to one, the more you have for others. You feel something for me, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then tell me – could you have felt as much for me, as much warmth and understanding, if you had not loved Ross?’
‘Maybe not. I don’t know.’
‘Love is not a possession to hoard. You give it away. It’s a blessing and a balm. You know the parable of the loaves and the fishes? It is always misunderstood. Christ was distributing spiritual bread. That was why there was enough for five thousand. It’s the miracle that is occurring all the time.’
‘Five loaves of love,’ Demelza said; ‘what were the two small fishes?’
‘You’re very hard, Demelza.’
‘No, I am not very hard.’
One of the greater black-backed gulls swept quite low overhead, his wings temporarily flicking across the sun. Two more screamed high in the cliffs above. The heat of the day had drained the sky of colour. There seemed to be no air at all in the cove.
Hugh said: ‘You said that you could not understand me asking this, especially today. I ask it today only because there is no other day, and never will be another day. Not because of any frailties I am likely to succumb to but because of plain circumstance. There will never be another such day. You may think I am – unfairly – asking you to do this out of pity. You are right. But not – not at all out of pity for a man who may be losing his sight. Out of pity for someone who loves you as he loves Heaven and thinks to be kept for ever outside the gates of paradise.’
Demelza stirred almost irritably. ‘That’s not true, Hugh! There’s no paradise in love! It’s – you’re thinking in the wrong way. Love – the sort you’re asking me for – is of the earth, earthy. Beautiful, maybe – sometimes it be like a gold mine that one digs into. But of the earth – earthy. Tis all wrong to speak of paradise. Love may be the nearest human beings can get – but it is still outside the gates – for it is human – easily lost – animal in the way it work, though more, much more than animal. Oftentimes it – uplifts, transports . . . but – but it should not be mistaken. It is a – a terrible mistake to pretend it is something quite different.’
There was silence. He looked at her with his dark sensitive eyes.
‘So you think I have been using the wrong arguments. You think my reasoning is specious?’
She looked back at him through her hair and smiled. ‘I don’t know what that means. But I think so.’
‘How then – if you wished to be persuaded; how would you advise me to set about it?’
‘But I don’t wish to be persuaded.’
‘Is there any risk?’
‘Not risk. Risk is the wrong word.’
‘Hope, then.’
‘Not hope, neither. But, Hugh, you must know that I am troubled by you, moved – and it is not pity. I wish – I only wish it was.’
‘I am glad it is not.’
‘All those pretty words you spoke about love being – what is the word? – divisible. Can I ask you if you think other things are divisible too – such as loyalty – such as trust?’
He knelt up, sat back on his heels. The great damp splashes on his cambric shirt were drying.
‘No,’ he said humbly. ‘There you have me beat.’ He shook his head. ‘There you have me beat.’
She began to trace figures in the sand. Her heart was beating as if there was a drum inside her. Her mouth was so dry she could not swallow. The nakedness of her body inside her frock seemed to have suddenly become more apparent to her, seemed to flower. She gave a slight groan which she tried to suppress altogether but could not quite.
He sat back looking at her, a foot away from touching her. ‘What is it?’
‘Please let us go.’
‘May I just then kiss you?’
She raised her head and pushed her hair back. ‘It would be quite wrong.’
‘But you will permit it?’
‘Perhaps I cannot stop you.’
/> He moved towards her, and knew the moment he touched her that something had won his battle for him. He took her face in his hands, held it like a cup to be drunk from, and then kissed her. With a serious unsmiling mouth he touched her eyelids, her cheeks, her hair, and sighed, as if for the moment her acceptance were all and there was no further desire in him.
‘Hugh—’
‘Don’t speak, my love, don’t speak.’
He put his left hand to the nape of her neck, supporting it, until slowly she leaned against it and so lay back in the sand. Then, fumbling, with his right hand, he began to undo the buttons of her frock.
BOOK THREE
Chapter One
I
Ross was away three nights, not one. He stayed the first with Verity, as arranged; the second, defence meetings with various gentlemen having left many matters unresolved, he spent at Pendennis Castle on the rocky promontory overlooking Falmouth harbour as the guest of its governor, John Melville. Governor Melville came barely to the top button of Ross’s waistcoat and dressed in a scarlet uniform and a square cocked hat, which he wore even at meals. The stump of his left arm hung in a black silk sling, so that an orderly had to cut up his food, and the socket of his right eye was covered with a black silk patch and satin ribbon. He strutted as if he were on parade and barked his orders like a little terrier. Not quite Ross’s type, but it made a pleasant change from the lackadaisical attitude of most of the amateur officers whose business it was to organize the defence of the country. The following day he took Ross to see the ever-growing French prisoner-of-war camp at Kergillack, near Penryn. This now held upwards of a thousand men, a great many of them sailors; and Ross was interested to see how it compared with the horrors of Quimper. Many of the men were under canvas, and in this fine hot weather were looking sunburnt and healthy enough, and the food was just adequate; but it would be a bleak spot on the top of the hill in the winter when the gales were roaring.
They rode on then to see Mr Rogers at Penrose and supped there. With the long evening fading and a four-hour ride as the alternative, Ross was about to accept the invitation to sleep there, when a messenger came on a lathery horse with a request from Lord de Dunstanville that they should all proceed at once to Tehidy on a matter of vital national emergency. It was in the minds of all sitting at the table that the French had landed somewhere and they must raise the countryside; but the messenger explained it concerned grievous riots which were taking place in Camborne, and Lord de Dunstanville needed all aid to contain them.
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