The Twisted Sword: A Novel of Cornwall 1815

by Winston Graham

  At least for the next few years it did not look as if the Poldarks would want for a loaf of bread. Nor the miners either; Ross would see to that. In a county – indeed in a country – where there was as yet nothing to see of the expected post-war boom, Nampara and its surrounding villages were a small enclave living a notch or two above the poverty line.

  On the 30th January Demelza waited early upon her closest and dearest friend. The years had not dealt quite so kindly with Caroline Enys as with Demelza, who Lieutenant Phillips had already concluded must be Ross’s second wife. Always thin, Caroline had become somewhat gaunt, but the sharp acerbic intelligence of her face compensated for the loss of bloom.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘so that explains it. I thought from the hectic flush that Hugh Bodrugan had risen from his bed and was pursuing you with lecherous suggestions. And what have you decided?’

  ‘Nothing yet,’ said Demelza. ‘Or almost nothing. We shall give him the answer at noon.’

  ‘Oh, come. I think it’s yes, is it not? Who’d turn down such an offer? The freedom of Paris, at England’s expense! A splendid three or four months living in the most sophisticated and brilliant city in the world!’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ said Demelza. ‘I do not speak a single word of the language. I should be lost!’

  ‘I’ve yet to see you lost anywhere, my dear. These apprehensions do you no credit. What does Ross feel?’

  ‘He says he will not go without me.’

  ‘Very proper. So your answer will come soon.’

  Demelza moistened her lips. ‘Supposing I said I should not go without you.’

  There was a pause. Caroline laughed. ‘That would be very improper. But spoken like a true friend. I fancy Dwight would have a word or two to say about it!’

  ‘Well, last year we talked – you know we did – you know we did! – of all going to Paris together when the war was over. Why should you not both come now to keep us company? Dwight has all these scientific friends he wishes to see and while the men were busy we – we could see something of Paris together. It would be lovely!’

  Caroline wrinkled her eyebrows at the window panes, which were still glistening with rain. ‘I’ll not deny it’s an enticing prospect. But do you not say you will have to leave very shortly?’

  ‘If we are going – yes…”

  There was a footstep and the door opened and Dwight came in.

  ‘Demelza!’ he said, ‘I have just seen Ross and know you are all well, so this is not a call for help. So early in the morning it’s a wonder my wife is dressed to receive you.’

  Twenty-five years of ministering to sick people had given his always serious face a sombre look, but it lit up in the company of friends. His own health had never been reliable since the ordeal of his internment in France and, as Caroline said tetchily, he was never above catching an infection from the vulgars he attended. He drove himself hard but had long ago in the prison camp become convinced that the mind and the will could overcome many of the weaknesses of the body. Although he had made his life contentedly in this remote corner of the south-west and seldom left it, his reputation had grown, and he corresponded with many of the advanced thinkers of the day.

  ‘Well, it’s not a call for help in the normal sense,’ said his wife.

  He kissed Demelza. She said: ‘You have seen…?’

  ‘Ross, yes. I was coming back from Mingoose where Agneta was in an epilepsy. Yes, he told me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Of your invitation. And that you must reply to it by noon.’

  Caroline said: ‘They are going, of course! They could not possibly turn down such an opportunity! But Demelza wants us to go too.’

  ‘So does Ross.’

  ‘Dwight!’ said Demelza, beaming. ‘So you will come? So you will both come?’

  Dwight put down his bag, touched his wife’s shoulder affectionately as he walked past.

  ‘You’re wet,’ said Caroline accusingly.

  He warmed his hands at the fire. ‘It’s what we have discussed, isn’t it? Promised ourselves … But for me it can’t be just so immediate. For an absence of perhaps six weeks – two months? – I must find someone more clever than Clotworthy to see to my flock. There is a young man from Exeter who I think might come down, but it cannot be arranged on the instant. I said to Ross we would come at Easter. That is quite early; Good Friday is March the 24th.’

  ‘Easter!’ Demelza said in disappointment.

  ‘I know it is not as agreeable as it would be if we all travelled together. But I understand from Ross that if he accepts you must leave next week. That would be impossible for us. Also, Ross will have time to come to terms with his work in Paris and by Easter will probably be much freer of his leisure. And we shall be travelling as private citizens; you will be there in a semi-official capacity. When we come we shall see what we can of you – every moment that we can of you! – and then, for once perhaps, Demelza will be able to show Caroline round!’

  There was silence except for the sound of Horace the Third chewing on a bone.

  ‘It is not what I wanted,’ said Demelza.

  Caroline leaned forward and patted her hand. ‘It is not what I wanted; but for once – just for once – I think Dwight may be right. Easter will be a lovely time for us all!’

  Demelza pulled at a twist of dark hair which was still damp from the rain. ‘Dwight, is it safe in Paris for children?’

  He turned from the window, exchanged a glance with Caroline. ‘How am I to answer that? There are hazards everywhere. I do not suppose that Paris is less law-abiding than London.’

  ‘It was not of those hazards that I was most particularly thinking.’

  Nor was Dwight but he had been hoping to avoid the thrust of the question. At that moment Mrs Myners came in with the hot chocolate Caroline had ordered, so there was a further breathing space.

  When Mrs Myners had gone he said: ‘D’you mean as to health? Well, there are hazards everywhere. There has been an outbreak of cholera in Plymouth this month.’

  ‘But not in Nampara,’ said Demelza.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. It was all very long ago, but Dwight had once attended Demelza and her first daughter for the morbid sore throat which had then been raging through the county, and Julia had died.

  ‘I can’t advise you on this, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘Many thousands of children live and grow up in towns and come to no hurt. Have you discussed it with Ross?’

  ‘No. Nor never could I.’ When Caroline looked at her inquiringly Demelza pulled at her drying curl again. ‘’Tis not for me to shift the responsibility. Or to put a fear in his mind.’

  Caroline handed a cup of chocolate to Dwight, who carried it to Demelza.

  Caroline said brightly: ‘Shall we be taking Sophie and Meliora?’

  Caroline too had lost her first child. But it was like her to rush this fence while Demelza was present. It was a measure of her friendship.

  Dwight said: ‘Of course.’

  II

  Ross said: ‘My reply to the Earl of Liverpool is confidential, of course, and I do not know how far you are privy to the message you brought me.’

  ‘Nothing as to the content of the message, sir,’ said Hubert Phillips. ‘I know I must carry back your answer with all speed. I hope to deliver it late on the 3rd.’

  ‘It will be a hard and disagreeable journey for you. The sea passage is usually far more comfortable and just as fast, but contrary winds can sometimes embay a vessel a week and then all the advantage is lost.’

  Phillips buckled on his belt. ‘This is my first visit to Cornwall. It must be surpassing lovely in the summer.’

  ‘It is nice in the winter,’ said Demelza, ‘when it is not raining.’

  ‘I had an uncle who had been in these parts as a young man. He talked often of the mines. It is good to see two working. Both on your land, sir?’

  ‘One. But they both belong to me.’

  ‘They a
re always called Wheal, aren’t they? What does it mean?’

  ‘Not always, but usually. It is from the Cornish, huel, meaning a hole.’

  Phillips bowed over Demelza’s hand. ‘I’m greatly obliged, ma’am, for your hospitality. And for everything. Even my cloak is beautifully dry.’

  ‘’Fraid it won’t stay so very long,’ she said. ‘Though the wind has shifted and there is a break in the cloud. In an hour or two—’

  Phillips smiled. ‘Alas, I must not wait. But it has been a pleasure and an honour meeting you both. And your two beautiful children.’

  One of their two beautiful children was leaning against the panelling near the door, hands behind back, one toe raised so that her heel was on the floor, staring at Hubert Phillips with considerable interest and admiration. During his brief stay Isabella-Rose had been less noisy and boisterous than usual. Now she followed the trio out to the front door and the waiting horse.

  Phillips took the reins from Matthew Mark Martin and mounted. He took off his hat, and they raised their hands in farewell as he moved slowly away up the valley.

  Demelza had been right. A streak of washed blue sky, almost indistinguishable from cloud, was making its appearance over the sea. Smoke from the newly coaled Wheal Leisure was drifting before the wind, hiding the good news.

  They went back into the parlour, leaving Bella still gazing after the horseman as he grew smaller in the distance. Ross crouched, poking up the fire. The new blaze flickered over his strong bony features. Demelza stood beside him, for a moment saying nothing. When he straightened up she was looking at him with her most serious, darkest gaze.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it is done.’

  ‘It is done.’

  He took her hand, which came into his easily. ‘In the next week we shall be busy.’

  ‘Have you said a week?’

  ‘I promised I’d wait on him on the 11th or 12th.’

  ‘Oh, there will be that much to arrange! Could I come later with the children?’

  ‘I’d prefer not. I’d be happier if we travelled through France together.’

  ‘So would I! … But do you not think you will be several days in London?’

  ‘There was some sense of urgency in Liverpool’s message. I’m at a loss to know why.’

  She said: ‘I am at a loss to know why they will not leave us in peace! Must it not have cost a lot to come from London, post all the way?’

  ‘A shilling a mile. One and threepence, perhaps. At two hundred and eighty miles it adds up, I agree.’

  ‘All the same,’ Demelza said after a moment, ‘I am proud for you that they would not.’

  ‘Would not what?’

  ‘Leave you in peace.’

  ‘And not at all happy for yourself? Do I take an unwilling woman to Paris?’

  ‘I think when it comes I will enjoy it. It is just the coming that fills me with the mulligrubs. But anyway, is there not that in the Bible: “Whither thou goest I will go”?’

  ‘A dutiful wife, eh?’

  ‘Did you say dutiful or beautiful?’

  ‘Lieutenant Phillips clearly thought the latter. Incidentally, I believe Bella was taken with him too.’

  ‘I was not taken with him,’ Demelza said. ‘His eyes were too close together.’

  He put his arm round her. ‘Well, we talked around it long enough last night … I could have wished we could have left Jeremy here or that Ben could have had longer to prove himself.’

  ‘Well, Zacky’s in better health.’

  ‘Yes, Zacky’s in better health. And I don’t think Ben will go overboard again. We must send word to Clowance. And Verity.’

  ‘I think if I had time I would better prefer to ride over and see them.’

  ‘You saw them both at Christmas…’

  ‘But did not mention this possibility to them, as you know. If I am going to France for maybe three months I would like to see Clowance again before I left.’

  ‘I think she should come here. You’ll have all your work cut out to pack and be ready for next Monday and for all the preparations and arrangements that will have to be made, without going off for a day visiting Clowance in Penryn.’

  ‘Well, if she can manage it, ’twould certainly be better. My dear life, my heart is beating already!’

  ‘I hope so, or I shall be sending for Dr Enys.’

  ‘Ross, isn’t it a pity that they cannot come at the same time!’

  Ross saw Isabella-Rose in the doorway of the room and smiled at her. ‘Bella, come in. We have plans for your future.’

  ‘Ooh? Goody! What’s on? Tell me quick.’

  ‘Mrs Hemple’s Academy for Young Ladies. You know of course that it has been arranged that you should start there on the 17th of this month.’

  Bella curled her lip. ‘Oh yes. A pack of girls … But what is changed? I can see by your face that something is changed!’

  ‘Something is changed,’ said Ross.

  His face was so sombre that Bella giggled at it. ‘Well, Papa, now I know it is good.’

  ‘Only time will tell. But you will not now be going to Mrs Hemple’s until September.’

  Bella uttered a squeak of joy. For a girl with her powerful vocal chords it showed some deep emotion. ‘Pa-pa-a-a! What! Ma-ma! How delicious! Do you mean I don’t go to a school at all – not until September. Glory, glory be!’

  ‘On that we’ve not yet decided,’ said Demelza, ‘but it so turns out that your father has been invited to spend the next three months in Paris, and it seems probable that we shall be going with him.’

  Isabella-Rose jumped a foot in the air. ‘Paris! In France, you mean? Where they have the guillotine! Papa, Mama, how wonderful you both are!’

  Half strangled in a wild hug, Demelza looked at Ross and began to laugh. Ross laughed. They all laughed. Teasing her daughter, Demelza flung her arms round Ross’s neck and hugged him in the same way. Somehow in Bella’s enthusiasm all apprehensions seemed to be dissolved.

  ‘Will you take me to see the guillotine, Ross?’ Demelza asked; ‘’Tis something I’ve always wished to see!’

  ‘I believe it is still there,’ said Ross, ‘but has not been so busy of late.’

  Bella said: ‘Oh, and there will be theatres and exhibitions and dances and balls. And no schooling! I already have a little grounding in French. Think how much better I shall speak it by September!’

  Attracted by the noise, little Henry had toddled out of the kitchen, with Mrs Kemp in tow. Seeing their laughing faces, he too began to laugh. Disentangling herself from the others Demelza picked him up and kissed him.

  ‘Harry,’ she said; ‘Harry, will you come too?’

  Mrs Kemp had not advanced beyond the door, but stood wiping her hands on her apron.

  ‘Come too,’ said Henry cheerfully. ‘Come too. Kempie come too.’

  Demelza exchanged a glance with Ross.

  Henrietta Kemp – though no one ever dared to call her by her Christian name – was a woman in her mid-sixties. She had originally been with the Teagues as a nursemaid and had first come to Nampara as a casual piano teacher for Demelza who, being still in her teens, had thought of Mrs Kemp even then as an old woman. She had moved in to live in Nampara during Clowance’s childhood and had stayed on, with only a few absences, as a sort of general handywoman who could look after the children when necessary, teach them their letters, watch over them in their rare illnesses, and stand in for Demelza when she was not there. She was a tight, ageless, dour little woman, Cornish to the backbone though genteelly educated. She came from Mount Ambrose, near Redruth. No one had ever seen or heard of Mr Kemp, but it was rumoured that at a very early stage in their married life he had been ‘lost at sea’. She looked and behaved like a natural spinster, was a practising Wesleyan, but did not allow her disapproval for the casual lack of discipline in the Poldark household to sour her love for the children – or for her first pupil.

  Her first pupil was thinking ‘out of the mouths of babes and suck
lings’. She thought, I cannot say anything yet without a private word with Ross first. I cannot saddle him with another person to pay for – and yet, is not the country paying? Is it not natural that the wife of a British envoy should bring a governess to look after the children?

  ‘Yes, my lover,’ she said to Henry, who, having enjoyed the embrace, was now wriggling to get down. You’re coming with us, aren’t you? We’re going across the sea.’

  ‘The sea!’ chanted Isabella-Rose. ‘The sea, the glorious sea. Mrs Kemp, we’re going to France, to France, to France! Je suis, tu es, il est. Nous sommes, vous êtes, ils ont!’

  ‘Ils sont,’ Mrs Kemp corrected. ‘Bella, please do not shout so. Shall I leave Henry with you, Mrs Poldark?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Demelza. ‘Ross—’

  Ross held up his hand. ‘Mrs Kemp,’ he said, ‘I have been invited to go to Paris for three months. I am taking my wife and children. I feel – we all feel – that it would be most suitable if you came with us.’

  Mrs Kemp fumbled with her apron. Although she seldom sullied them with housework, she had gnarled hands which might have spent years scrubbing floors.

  ‘My goodness gracious! Where? Paris, did you say?’

  ‘Paris.’

  ‘My blessed life. In France, you mean? That wicked place?’

  ‘That wicked place. Yes. We shall be leaving a week today. Would you kindly think it over? Mrs Poldark will be able to answer your queries. I can give you – we can give you – twenty-four hours to make up your mind.’

  Chapter Three

  I

  On the same day in late January that Demelza perceived the young man riding down the rainy valley to disturb her peace of mind, Clowance Carrington, her elder daughter, had a young and disturbing visitor of a different sort.

  She had been out for a solitary ride on Nero. Stephen was home – not at sea, that is – but was off on some business of his own. Not that he was secretive about much; he talked to his wife incessantly about his hopes and his plans, so she bore this temporary withdrawal of confidence without any sense of injustice.