‘What? You don’t know, zur?’ His soft local accent mostly turned S sounds into Z. ‘And you the new owner?’
‘I am indeed the new owner, and no, I don’t know,’ said Eric, with some irritation. ‘I know little about Rosmorwen, as I never expected to inherit it.’
‘But Master Harrison knew all about it, zur,’ said Meddick.
‘I daresay, but he died before he could tell me,’ Eric said.
‘It’s tin, zur. There’s tin been found on the land.’
‘Tin?’
‘They London folk – Guild of Bronzesmiths or some such – always looking out for sources for tin, they are. Or so we was told. Some of them have made theirselves into a … a what-do-you-call-it?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Eric. ‘What do you call it?’
‘A consortium, zur, yes, that’s it. And they’ve hired these prospectors to go round to likely places in this here county of Cornwall. They come here and I give them permission to look – well, it ’ud make the place worth a lot more if they found aught. Master Harrison wouldn’t have to put money into getting the mine producing; this consortium thing’d do that. They’d work the mine and put money into it and claim the profits but they’d pay for using the Rosmorwen land. I wrote to Master Edmund Harrison about it all. I write a good letter, zur, it’s one reason why I was took on to look after this place. Well, they tried panning in our liddle stream, and yes, there was tin there; then they had a look at some rocks stickin’ out of the hill, at the foot. Then they got all excited, like and now they’ve started a tunnel. Not got very far yet but they do zay the lodes are good.’
‘Lodes?’ I said.
‘Marks on the rock, like. Zigns there do be tin there.’
‘I see,’ said Eric. ‘All right, Meddick. Feed us, if you please.’
When Meddick had gone, Eric said: ‘Tin! I had no idea of that. I expect Meddick’s letter is among Edmund’s papers. George didn’t show them to me and I didn’t think of asking to see them! Tin would make an immense difference to the value of this place. I know about this. With silver, landowners don’t get anything – it all goes to the crown – but with tin, whoever owns Rosmorwen would be paid for the use of the land and if the land were sold, it would command a very good price. Not that I have the right to sell it,’ he added moodily. ‘It has to revert to George after me. Pity. I wonder if I can negotiate with him. We might share the proceeds … if there really is a worthwhile amount of tin, of course. Well, well!’
The food that the Meddicks produced was simple but good: mutton ham and fresh bread with butter and quince preserves and some thick yellow cream, and a choice of ale or mead, tasting of honey, to wash it all down.
After that, Sybil and I looked round the house and met the two women who helped Kerenza and were evidently the mother and daughter from the village family that Eric had mentioned. They were a bustling pair, with strong local accents, and to his amusement, they both addressed Eric as me handsome.
None of the rooms in the house were large and most were both dark and poky. However, they were also clean, and there seemed to be ample bedlinen. Rooms had been made ready for us and it looked as though our stay would be reasonably comfortable.
The weather was warm and the air was soft. Eric at first wanted to go out to the diggings that evening but it wasn’t long before the effects of the meal – and probably the mead – had us all yawning, and at last he said he would put off visiting the mine until morning.
I slept deeply that night and I daresay we all did. In the morning, Harry begged to be allowed to see the mine and I too was curious. I put on the old dress I used for travelling, which had no farthingale and was not too generous in the skirts, and put Harry into an old shirt and breeches. Meddick recommended that though the weather was still warm, we should all take cloaks.
‘Likely you’ll want zummat over your mouths if you’m goin’ into any old mine,’ he said. ‘Dusty, that’s what mines are.’
Sybil, Tessie and Dale all decided against coming, but Harry and I set out with Eric. We found half a dozen men busy about the site, tough-looking local miners in leather hose and shirtsleeves, except for two who had dispensed with any clothing at all above the waist, apart from a coating of sweat mixed with rock dust. They all had a vague resemblance to the Meddicks. They had made themselves at home in a rough and ready way, since there was a cooking fire, over which a pot of something savoury was heating, and a water barrel stood nearby, with some pewter cups on a bench alongside.
When we arrived, a cartload of broken rock, pulled by two strong horses, was just leaving the site, presumably to be smelted somewhere else. A foreman came to greet us, distinguished from the rest by a sleeveless leather jerkin over his shirt. He introduced himself as Ninian Tremaine and seemed pleased to see Eric.
‘Heard you’d arrived, zur.’ He had a husky, gravelly voice. ‘Allus best to have the owner takin’ an interest. Want to see how far we’ve got? All of you?’ He looked doubtfully at me and Harry.
‘Yes, please!’ said Harry.
‘Harry and I will both come,’ I said. ‘I should like to. Unless there’s any danger. Is there?’
‘No. We’ve shored his sides up proper.’ It took me a moment to realize that his referred to the mine. ‘My men know their business and take care of theirselves. We’ve not got far in, anyhow. This way.’
They had delved straight into the side of the hill. ‘It’s called lode mining,’ Tremaine said. ‘In the past, gettin’ at the tin’s been mostly pannin’ for it in rivers, or sometimes diggin’ open trenches, but in late years, there’s been interest taken in traces of tin where trenches aren’t any use. Like here – we found lodes on the outcrops outside at the foot of the hill and that told us that there’d likely be tin inside. No good trenchin’ from above, so we’re makin’ a tunnel and the signs are good. Very good!’
‘Where do you crush and smelt the ore?’ Eric asked knowledgably.
‘Not here, zur. There be a place a mile towards Penzance – it serves another mine as well as this one. No point buildin’ new blowing houses as we call them when there’s one so handy. Cheaper to hire time there. Now, over here …’
He showed us an outcrop beside the tunnel entrance and the dark marks in the rocks which were apparently the sign that tin was present. Then, after pausing to make way for a perspiring miner who was wheeling out a barrow-load of broken rock, he led the way inside.
It was a low tunnel and Eric and I had to bend our heads to get in. It was dark, but Tremaine took down a candle lantern that was hanging by the entrance and lit it from the cooking fire. He went ahead of us to light the way. Harry was excited and kept saying: ‘Oooh!’ I felt a little nervous, even though there were stout timber supports on either side.
There were more dark lodes, long blue-black streaks in the walls of the tunnel. ‘Likely, they could lead for miles,’ Tremaine told us. ‘But we’re gettin’ good ore already.’ He began to talk technicalities to Eric, explaining how the smelting was done, recommending him to inspect the blowing house.
‘Not a place for ladies or children, but the next cartload will be settin’ off soon and you and I can go together. Three teams of horses we’ve got, though only two work at the same time. We’re always needin’ horses for this or that little errand, so each team has a rest from carting rock every third day and gets used for other things. My men are all lodged in Black Rock and some have their families with them …’
I lost the rest of what he was saying, on account of the sound of hammering from the far end of the tunnel, which grew louder as we came nearer. We came in sight of a rock face, where several perspiring men were working with picks. The air here was full of dust and Harry started to cough. So did I. Eric and Tremaine looked as us in concern.
‘You’d better not come any further,’ Eric said to me anxiously. ‘I want to see the miners at work and then I’m going to the blowing house with the next cart, but I don’t think this is a good place for either you or
Harry.’ He then coughed as well, and Tremaine said: ‘Best put a fold of your cloak over your nose, zur.’ Eric did so.
‘I agree,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen enough. Come, Harry.’
‘But I want to go to the blowing house with Master Lake! I want to see what happens to the bits of rock.’
‘They’re smashed to smaller bits, washed, and then what’s left is heated to make the tin run out,’ said Tremaine. ‘Nothing very special, young master. You go with your ma, now. Blowing houses b’ain’t no places for younglings, ’cept when they’m learnin’ their dad’s trade. Off you go.’
‘Come along, Harry,’ I said.
He grumbled, but obeyed. I didn’t need a lantern to see our way out, for the entrance wasn’t far away and beyond it was the sunlight. I got us both out into the open air and thankfully took deep breaths of it. Well, I had seen a tin mine. It was interesting but I didn’t particularly want to see another one. Harry, of course, was full of questions, most of which I couldn’t answer.
‘Master Lake will tell you all about it when he comes back to the house,’ I said, steering my son on to a path across a field of oats. ‘It’s no use asking me! Come along, Harry.’
FOURTEEN
A Shape Half Seen
It rained that afternoon and Harry, excited after our visit to the mine, fretted at being kept indoors. When, near the end of the afternoon, the rain ceased, he evaded Tessie and slipped out of the house.
‘Oh, let him go,’ Eric said, when I protested that this was a strange place to him, that he didn’t know his way about and might get lost. ‘He’ll come to no harm. I expect he’s gone towards the mine, but the miners won’t let him get into any trouble. I’ll go out later and fetch him in.’
We were all in the parlour, which was less bleak now that it was populated. Eric and I were passing the time with a game of chess, since the rain had discouraged him from going round the farm. Sybil and Dale were working at embroidery and Tessie was patching the elbows on one of Harry’s shirts.
We had already begun to talk about the journey back. Eric said that tomorrow, weather permitting, he would spend the day looking at the crops and the stock and the day after that he would devote to studying the farm’s accounts, but we might start for home the day after. Presently, as he had said he would, he went out to fetch Harry and brought him in, flushed and laughing. He had been playing with a couple of lads, the sons of two of Tremaine’s miners.
‘They were having a contest with some home-made bows and arrows,’ Eric said cheerfully. ‘Shooting at a bit of a boulder. All good fun and no harm in it.’ I said I hoped he hadn’t made a nuisance of himself and Tessie tut-tutted, but Eric shook his head at us. ‘He’s a boy. Don’t coddle him!’
Evening fell and we had supper. Afterwards, we dispersed for various purposes. Tessie saw Harry to bed, Joseph and Brockley went out to the stable to settle the horses for the night; Eric said something about going to the stable as well, and disappeared, while I joined Sybil and Dale in the parlour for a last cup of mead before we retired.
We gathered for breakfast the next morning, but Eric wasn’t there. We were wondering why not, when Kerenza Meddick came to say that she had knocked on his bedchamber door to call him, had received no answer and had ventured to look inside, and his bed had not been slept in.
Ten minutes after that, Master Tremaine, white-faced, was at the door, to report that part of the roof and one side of the mine had fallen in, and that a foot, in a boot, was sticking out from the rubble.
Meddick, Brockley and I went with Tremaine to the mine. Tremaine looked askance at me but I said firmly: ‘If Master Lake is – not here – then I am in charge of this household. I ought to come with you and I intend to,’ and Brockley said: ‘Madam has seen unhappy sights in her time, Master Tremaine. She is a woman of some experience. You need have no fears for her.’
Tremaine shrugged. We collected cloaks and outdoor shoes and made our way to the site of the disaster.
Tremaine had already set his men to clear the rubble. It was an ugly sight; a pile of destruction where there had so lately been order and efficiency. The pathetic boot and the two or so inches of leg sticking out from the tangle of fallen rock were stained with dried blood. I and my companions stood back and waited. Tremaine joined his miners, who had already made considerable progress. It was not very long before between them they brought the victim out. And yes, it was Eric.
He had fallen face down and his handsome features were not much marked. There were contusions on nose and forehead but no more than that; otherwise, his face was just dirty. But the back of his head had been smashed. It was a ghastly mass of blood and bits of shattered rock, and his body had been crushed and flattened under a slab which took six straining, cursing men to shift it. From what lay beneath, I turned my head away, sickened.
They laid poor Eric on the grass. Tremaine himself had carried the mangled shoulders and supported the damaged head. Some of the men were still busy with the rockfall, where something seemed to have caught their attention. One of them called for Tremaine, who hurried back to the mine. He returned looking grim.
‘They’ve found one of the roof supports, lyin’ flat. I tell ’ee, that there support was a solid piece of seasoned oak, thick as a man’s body and strong as steel, and jammed in firm. It never come down on its own! My men know what they’re about. They’ve shored up trenches and tunnels afore this, time and again and never had an accident. He was safe, this mine was. I’d never have let anyone – certainly not you, ma’am – near him if I’d had any doubt, any doubt at all. If that there support come down, it were made to come down. Might be done with a rope and a horse.’
‘Why did he come out to the mine on his own, without telling anyone?’ Brockley asked, puzzled. ‘What brought him here? It must have been quite late last evening; he was at supper.’
‘He had a note,’ said a youthful voice, startling us all and causing us to turn round sharply. Harry, overwhelmed by curiosity, had once more evaded Tessie and come uninvited down the hill to join us. Brockley and I instinctively stepped between him and the dreadful remains on the grass.
‘What are you doing here, Harry?’ I demanded. ‘You know you shouldn’t be.’ He was getting too much for Tessie, I thought. As soon as we got home, I would arrange that tutor.
‘What’s all this about a note?’ said Brockley.
‘I saw it come. Master Lake was walking across the courtyard – he must have been to the stable, to see his horse, I suppose,’ said Harry. ‘Tessie had put me to bed, but I wasn’t sleepy and I got up again and looked out of the window. Master Lake was coming back towards the house, when a boy came in at the gate and spoke to him and handed him a note. He read it and sent the boy away and then he came inside and I heard him come upstairs at a run, and then I heard him go down again. He came up for a cloak, I think – he was swinging it round him while he went to the gate. He went out. It must have been the note that made him go.’
‘Why didn’t you say so this morning when we were all wondering where he was?’ I asked indignantly
‘Tessie’s always telling me not to bother the grown-ups, and she gets cross if I get out of bed after she’s seen me into it. But I wanted to know what had happened and … is that Master Lake? There … on the grass …’
Despite our precautions, he had glimpsed the body. Curiosity and excitement had collided with hideous reality and suddenly his small face – the dear small face that was already so very like the face of his father, Matthew de la Roche, with whom I had known little happiness but oh, so much passion – suddenly it was contorted with shock and distress. His mouth shook and he began to cry.
‘Hush,’ I said, going to him. ‘Hush. I’ll take you back to the house. Don’t look at … Master Lake.’
‘Is he dead?’ Harry whimpered.
‘Yes, dear. He is. He was … caught in a fall of rock. It must have been very quick. I don’t suppose he knew much about it.’
Harry looked at Tre
maine at this point, and Tremaine nodded reassuringly. He said: ‘Ma’am, we will make Master Lake decent and bring him up to the house. You had best go ahead of us. This will take a little while.’
Brockley and Meddick stayed to help the miners. I took Harry back to the house. He was pale and quiet, holding my hand as he used to do when he was younger. At the house, Tessie and Sybil both came out to meet us. Tessie was inclined to scold her nursling but I said: ‘Take Harry to his room and give him something hot to drink. He has had a shock. Master Lake is dead.’
‘What? How?’ gasped Sybil.
‘It was an accident with a collapsed mine roof. He’ll be brought back soon but …’
Tessie understood. Harry was not to see. She took him away at once. I called Kerenza and told her to make a warm, soothing posset for Harry. I told Sybil and Dale about the note that Harry had mentioned and Sybil said: ‘We should find that if we can. I wonder if it’s in Master Lake’s room.’
‘We’d better look,’ I said.
We went upstairs. The Meddicks had given the new owner the master bedchamber, and Eric’s room, at the front of the house, with a window in one of the spiky gables, was just a little larger than the others. There was a clothes press and a washstand and next to the tester bed was a small table, where a candlestick stood with a tinderbox beside it.
On the table was a piece of folded paper. Sybil pounced at once. ‘This is it!’
We gathered round to read it.
Master Eric Lake, Greetings. Please come at once to the Rosmorwen mine. One of my men thinks he has found signs there of copper, which would add greatly to the value of the mine. However, I am not sure. I think I should show you and that we must discuss it, only it should not be bruited about for the moment. For this reason, I suggest that you come alone and say nothing to any as yet. I don’t like to start possibly groundless rumours. I will meet you there. Best not leave this note about. I advise destroying it. Tremaine.
A Deadly Betrothal Page 12
