The Four Swans

by Winston Graham

  ‘My dear Poldark, it is gratuitous of you to take this personally! How do you think I feel? The matter of sentence or pardon was laid quite unfairly on my shoulders at Bodmin. It was a most disagreeable decision I had to come to! Indeed the whole affair has been a worry and concern to me that has done my sleep no good, I assure you! If—’

  ‘Why not, then, let us both command an easier conscience?’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By initiating a petition for Hoskin’s reprieve. We still have five days. A movement begun from the top is the only one which could have due effect. There is ample time. Many a man has been reprieved at the foot of the scaffold.’

  They continued to stare at each other. Basset’s lips tightened again but he did not speak.

  Ross said: ‘It’s a difficult time to be merciful, I know. Men have recently been hanged for mutiny in the navy – and rightly so. Men like their ringleader Parker, while prating of freedom, would be the first to impose a rigid rule more onerous than the one they seek to overthrow. But the earlier mutinies were mutinies against unbearable conditions, and the Admiralty, who have been so stupid over so many things, had the wisdom to treat the early mutineers lightly. This riot – these riots in Cornwall, I believe, have nothing of the later type of mutiny in them and everything of the earlier. Empty bellies and dead fires and sick wives and wasting children are powerful advocates of unlawful riot. I do not believe Sampson or Barnes or Hoskin are anything but willing to abide by the law of the land. Their grievance is not against you or against me or against such others as are put in authority. Their grievance is against merchants and millers who grow fat in trade while the majority starve. To reprieve the one condemned man now would be no sign of weakness but would convince everyone that justice had been better served.’

  Basset had turned away, and it was as if he had turned not merely his face but his mind away from the arguments that had been put to him.

  He said: ‘You talk of these men being patriotic, Poldark. Did you know that last month a Patriotick Club was formed in Camborne? Its members are all young men, I understand, and all wear buttons they have obtained directly from France engraved with the words Liberty and Equality. They have a song which they sing which praises the Revolution and all that it stands for. Mind that, all that it stands for, in perfidy and tyranny and bloodshed. Moreover, any French victory on land or sea is hailed with acclaim, any English one with disgust. Nor are they content to keep their views to themselves! They go out among the miners, among the poor, spreading their gospel of sedition and unrest. I happen to know that they were in touch with the leaders of this riot. Were no such clubs, no such people in existence, who knows what might be done . . . Not now.’

  The sky was darkening. Instead of dispersing as they had often done this summer, the clouds were gathering and looked like rain.

  Ross said: ‘I respect your view, my Lord. Things have come to such a pretty pass that no one can say with any certainty which is the right or the wrong attitude to take. But what – surely what created the revolution in France was the degrading poverty of ordinary people compared with a licentious court and a weak government which was also a cruelly severe one. Here we now have conditions of poverty and distress scarcely more favourable than in the France of 1789. This is why Pitt’s Bill looked such a beacon of hope, and why it is, in my view, such a tragedy that it should have been withdrawn. But in any event our government is not weak. Need it – is it even politic – that it should seem severe?’

  ‘We have not been severe in condemning one man. We have been merciful in reprieving two.’

  ‘It’s a way of looking at it.’

  Basset was becoming nettled. ‘Do you consider yourself in a position to pass judgement on the judges?’

  ‘The last thing I feel entitled to do is pass judgement on anyone. That is what would have made me such a poor magistrate. But it is not judgement as such I am thinking of. It is clemency – in the narrowest sense – and wisdom – in a wider.’

  Basset pursed his lips. ‘Who was it said – some great justiciar, I believe – that all men who are engaged in judgement upon others should be devoid of anger, of friendship, of hatred, and of soft-heartedness. That is what, in my way, I try to be. I am sorry you find me lacking.’

  ‘I did not say that—’

  Basset said: ‘I’m sure you speak from conviction. You know I do. We must differ . . . Ah, my dear, come and join us. Captain Poldark is just leaving.’

  Chapter Three

  I

  On his way home Ross caught sight of Sam Carne doing something in the cramped little chapel near Wheal Maiden, so he got off his horse and went in. Sam was alone, and Ross was able to tell him that any reprieve for John Hoskin was now unlikely.

  Sam said: ‘Thank ee, brother. Twas very brave of ee to try. I did not know you was going to try. I’ll tell Peter tomorrow. But I think he know tes likely that his brother will hang.’

  Ross glanced at Sam, a little surprised at his resigned tone. Life and death were cheap in the mining districts, and especially so to Sam who spent so much of his spare time helping the sick.

  Sam said: ‘Peter wish to go, and I shall go along of him.’

  ‘With him? Where? To Bodmin?’

  ‘Yes. At first I tried to tell him no, but really tis right that John’s family should be there.’

  ‘But why you? You’re not of the family.’

  ‘Peter is my partner, and I shouldn’t wish for him to walk all that way there and back alone.’

  ‘What of his parents?’

  ‘Peter’s mother and father will be there day before, hoping see him. The others will make their way separate.’

  Ross glanced round the bare little meeting house with its forms and primitive chairs, and its bible on the table by the window.

  ‘It’s to be Tuesday. Do not forget you have a wrestling match on Thursday.’

  ‘No,’ said Sam. ‘I haven’t forgot.’

  ‘D’you think you will win?’

  ‘I don’t rightly know. I’m more used to wrestling with the spirit within us.’

  ‘How much did you ever do?’

  ‘A fair lot. But I haven’t been in a ring, not since I were reconciled with God.’

  ‘Would you not be well advised to get some practice?’

  Sam smiled. ‘Thank ee, brother, but where would I get it?’

  ‘I could try you with a few falls.’

  ‘You used to wrestle?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  Sam considered their respective situations. ‘I do not believe twould be seemly.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that.’

  ‘Well, thank ee brother, maybe twould be of assistance to me. I’ll think on it.’

  ‘Think on it soon. You have a few days only.’

  When Ross got home he told Demelza the result of his visit to Tehidy.

  ‘It’s not to be wondered at,’ she said. ‘And he won’t thank you for going, Ross. He thought he was being generous pardoning two, and it will not please him to be thought harsh after all.’

  ‘Everyone,’ Ross said, ‘seems a little less concerned than I do. Am I more tender hearted for others or only tender because of my own conscience?’

  ‘We are not – untender.’ she said. ‘Not so. But maybe we are more – resigned. When a man is condemned to death we accept it, though it’s sad to do so. We know we cannot change it. You hoped to change it – so it’s more of a – a disappointment. You feel you have failed. We don’t feel that because we never hoped to succeed.’

  Ross poured himself a stiff brandy. ‘I am less and less enamoured of my own part in the affair. It was ill done. And less and less happy at thinking I am fighting the French by commanding a troop of Volunteers. If the French come, well and fine, we may make some good use of ourselves. But if the French do not come we are more likely to be used to put down insurrection here!’

  ‘Are you in favour of insurrection, then?’

  He made an impatient g
esture. ‘How can I expect you to understand when I cannot clearly explain it to myself? My loyalties are hopelessly at cross-purposes one with another.’

  ‘Sometimes mine are too,’ said Demelza from the heart.

  ‘And George becomes more impossible every time I meet him! A year or so ago I felt that our enmity was on the wane. Each year we got older and a little more tolerant, and it seemed to me that, so long as we avoided each other, our indifference would gradually improve.’

  ‘Isn’t that the trouble?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, since you started knowing Lord de Dunstanville better it hasn’t been quite so easy to avoid each other.’

  Ross finished his brandy and poured another one. ‘It is possible I shall be seeing less of de Dunstanville in the future. That certainly would be my choice.’

  ‘Can I have one?’

  He looked up. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. I thought you preferred port.’

  ‘Port is for parties,’ said Demelza. ‘And when I’ve had one I badly want more. I don’t very much favour the taste of brandy, so it does no harm.’

  He got her a glass and poured some for her. ‘It’s odd that by refusing Basset’s offer to fight Truro I have seen more of George – and a very bumptious George – than I would otherwise ever have done. Perhaps,’ he added satirically, ‘I should have become a Member of Parliament just to have seen less of him!’

  Demelza made a face over the brandy. ‘Would not your loyalties have been even more at cross-purposes then?’

  He looked at her, a little nettled that she had taken his sarcasm seriously. ‘You told me before that you think I would make a bad Member.’

  ‘I didn’t say bad,’ she said. ‘Uneasy.’

  ‘Well, I am uneasy now and have to live with it. You have to live with it too.’

  ‘Do not tear yourself apart, Ross. You can’t re-make the world.’

  ‘You should say that to your brother, who thinks to redeem us all.’

  She sipped again, thoughtful, herself on edge. ‘Yet he isn’t uneasy. It’s a difference in a person. He seem to have few doubts.’

  ‘I wish he had not chosen to try to redeem George’s gamekeeper by wrestling with him. I’m committed to a hundred guineas on the result.’

  ‘Judas! How did that happen?’

  Ross told her.

  ‘It’s not of course Tom Harry that Sam is trying to redeem,’ said Demelza.

  ‘No, so I gather. Did you ever see Sam wrestle?’

  ‘No, he was too young when I left home. Eleven or twelve. But I hope now he win, if only to save our money!’

  ‘I hope he wins to spite George. And in any event Tom Harry is a loustering oaf. Sam seems to have no idea that he should make any sort of preparation for this event, so I have told him to take a few falls with me over the next days.’

  ‘Ross! You cannot!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘When was the last time you wrestled?’

  ‘You should know. When I threw your father through that window some while ago.’

  ‘Some while ago! Thirteen years! It’s impossible, my love, you would injure yourself!’

  Ross came as near as he could to a sneer. ‘You don’t think of injuries to Sam.’

  ‘Well, he’s almost a boy! And he don’t matter so much to me. No, you must not. Promise me you will not!’

  ‘I cannot for I have promised him.’

  Demelza went across and helped herself to a second tot of the drink she didn’t like. ‘Dear life, I don’t know what to do with you: you’re always in trouble. Ross, don’t think I’m trying to coddle you, it is not that at all, you are fit and strong and have put on no weight, but have a thought, please, for the knowledge that you were about Sam’s age when you fought Father, and now are no longer so young.’

  ‘I am about your father’s age when he fought me, and he was not easy to overcome. I am just the right sort of opposition for Sam.’

  ‘I wish you would go and fight Tom Harry yourself!’ Demelza exclaimed in vexation. ‘Then you’d be happy, and I could nurse your broken bones in a better cause!’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Ross, ‘we could have a father’s contest to follow between George and myself. That really would be worth a few broken bones.’

  Demelza gulped her drink. ‘Well, look, now we have another small problem. Today Caroline called.’

  ‘Is that a problem? How is she?’

  ‘Better. It was some stomach ailment. She stayed about an hour.’

  Ross waited. He was aware now that something of importance to Demelza was afoot and that she had been wanting to speak of it ever since he came home and that she was nervous about it.

  ‘So?’

  ‘Hugh Armitage is sick, and Lord Falmouth has written to Dwight asking him to make an examination. So he is going tomorrow and Caroline is going with him and they are dining there.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear it, but how does it immediately affect us?’

  ‘Well, Hugh enclosed a note to Caroline asking if she could persuade us – that is you and me – to accompany them. He says he has a special wish to see us both again if – if we’re not circumstanced with prior engagements – that’s how he put it. He says, can we not ride with the Enyses?’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Caroline and Dwight are leaving at ten tomorrow so that he can make his examination before dinner, and they should be back by six.’

  A page of the Sherborne Mercury crackled as Ross turned it over.

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I said I would ask you and leave her know.’

  ‘What is wrong with Hugh? Is it his eyes?’

  ‘Not that altogether. But he’s much troubled with headaches and a low fever.’

  Ross stared at the close-printed newspaper. ‘I’m afraid we cannot go. I’ve meetings with Henshawe; and Bull is coming over. In any event I don’t want to go. My last meeting with George Falmouth was not of the easiest, and he expressly disobliged me by ignoring my request to put in a good word for Odgers.’

  Demelza set down her glass and sucked one of her fingers. ‘Very well then. But I think I should send word to Caroline tonight. It would be more – polite.’

  ‘How have you left it?’

  ‘I said I would send a note if we were not going. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.’

  Ross hesitated, struggled with himself. ‘I suppose you could go.’

  She looked at him and blinked. ‘How could I go without you? It would hardly be seemly.’

  ‘There’d be nothing unseemly if you went with Dwight and Caroline. I suspect it is you that Armitage really wants to see again.’

  Demelza shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know that I could go just with them.’

  ‘Well, I see no reason, but it’s for you to decide.’

  ‘No, Ross . . . really it’s for you to decide, not me. I don’t – I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Well.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘If I tell you to go it may be incautious on my part. If I tell you not to go it will be unfeeling.’

  ‘It need not be. I can well make some excuse. They would understand. But why would it be incautious of you to tell me to go?’

  ‘I do not know how far your feelings have become involved.’

  Demelza stared soberly out of the window. The summer sunburn had tinted her pale skin. ‘I don’t know myself, Ross, and that is the honest truth. I only know . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘His feelings for me.’

  ‘And that matters?’

  ‘It matters. How can it help but? . . . If he’s really ill, then it seems – perhaps there is reason to go. But I am your wife, Ross, to the – the last day. No other.’

  After a moment Ross said: ‘There’s not really room for two men in a woman’s heart, is there? Not in the way that counts.’

  Demelza said: ‘Or room for two women in a man’s?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

 
‘Isn’t it reasonable to ask?’

  They were on the brink then of much more; but Jeremy’s arrival, flinging back the door and rushing into the room with some plan he had for Sawle Feast day, cut it off short. Nor was anything more said until they were in bed that night, and by then the tension between them, while not disappearing, had eased.

  Ross said: ‘You haven’t sent word to Caroline?’

  ‘No. I didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘I think you should go. Why ever not? If I cannot trust you now, when could I ever?’

  Demelza winced. ‘Thank you, Ross. I shall be – be well chaperoned. Caroline is not of a mind to let me stray.’

  ‘Be not of a mind yourself. As you know, I think well of Hugh, and can hardly dislike him for admiring you – as long as that is all. No man wants his wife to be a woman that other men don’t desire.’

  ‘No, Ross.’

  ‘But every man wants his wife to be a woman that other men don’t get. Remember that, will you?’

  ‘Yes, Ross.’

  ‘I trust Dwight will be of aid to him. I shall hope for good news.’

  ‘Jane can see for your dinner, I suppose,’ Demelza said, still doubtful, though not altogether for the right reasons.

  ‘She has before. Bull will share it with me, by the way.’

  ‘There is that special pie I made. Don’t forget that.’

  Silence fell. The evenings had drawn in and the luminous lights of June had left the sky.

  ‘On that question that you put to me before Jeremy exploded on us,’ he said suddenly.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Is there room for two women in a man’s heart? The answer is no – not in the exclusive way I meant it. I never told you . . . a year or so ago I was up at Sawle Church about Agatha’s stone and I met Elizabeth returning from the Odgers’. I walked as far as Trenwith with her and we talked of things.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘No matter. What we talked of doesn’t affect what I have to say now. It was the first time I’d seen her alone since – well, for years. I think at the end of the meeting we had come a little nearer accord than since – since she married George. She’s still a beautiful creature, a woman of a sweet nature, kind and honest and far too good for that fellow she has married. I say all this to you deliberately for it is my view of her.’