CHAPTER THE FIFTH
St. Cuby's Well
To see another eat when oneself is hungry, or sleep when oneself iswakeful, is surely very trying to the temper, except to thosehappily-constituted individuals who are incapable of envy. DickTrevanion was as generous-hearted a boy as you could wish; but as thetime went by, unmarked by anything but the slow rise of the boat and thequick dwindling of the candle in the lantern, he looked at Sam's openmouth with impatience, listened to his untuneful solo with dislike, andfelt a deplorable desire to kick him. He had no watch, and bethoughthimself that it might be as well, when he got home, to test the durationof a candle, so that if he were ever in such a predicament again hemight at least have a clock of King Alfred's sort. Every now and thenhe snuffed the coarse wick, and when the tallow had sunk almost to thesocket, he substituted another candle-end that he happened to have inhis pocket. Beyond this he had nothing to employ him.
But by-and-by, as the roof of the vault came nearer to him with thegradual lifting of the boat, an idea struck him. Why not use the boatas a raised platform for the ladder, and so contrive to examine anadditional ten or twelve feet of the walls? The ladder!--it wasfloating on the surface of the water, heaving simultaneously with theboat as the tide gently rippled in.
"Wake up, Sam!" he called.
Sam snored on.
"Wake up!" cried Dick again, leaning over and pinching the sleeper'snose.
Sam struck out with his fist, as any honest English boy would have done,without opening his eyes. But at a third call he roused himself, sat up,and rubbing those heavy organs vigorously, sighed like a furnace, andthen said sleepily:
"Why, where be I?"
"In dreamland, I should think," replied Dick, laughing. "Wake up! Iwant you to hold the ladder against the wall while I climb again."
"In twelve feet o' water! Not me; I bean't growed enough for that.'Tis work for a giant."
"Not on the ground, of course; in the boat, I mean."
Sam looked dubious.
"Won't it wamble? And if you tumble you'll sink us."
"Well, we can try. Take hold of the end of the ladder floating by you,and I'll paddle close to the wall."
On lifting the ladder, they found that its top came within a few feet ofthe roof. But when Dick began to climb, he descended in a hurry, forthe ladder being of necessity set up at an angle, every upward stepdrove the boat from the wall towards the middle of the cave.
"Be-jowned if we can do it!" cried Sam. "That there openin' will be thedeath o' me."
Dick was at a loss. There was no way of keeping the boat in a fixedposition. Even if he dropped the anchor and it held in the sandybottom, the boat would still have a range of movement that altogetherprohibited the success of his plan. He looked gloomily at Sam; it wasvexatious to be baulked when achievement was so near. Sam, with hishands on the sides of the ladder, was gazing up its length, his eyesgradually converging as they travelled higher, until they seemed almostto be looking at each other. All at once they reverted to their naturalposition, and he cried:
"I've got a noble thought, I do b'lieve."
"What's that?"
"Why, 'tis as easy as anything. See that place, Maister Dick, up aloftthere, where the wall goes in summat?"
"Well, what then?"
"I'll show 'ee. You'd never ha' thought of it, 'cos you was lookin'down instead o' lookin' up."
He drew down the ladder until its whole length lay along one side of theboat.
"Look 'ee here," he said. "We'll take the anchor, and fix it upright inmiddle of the ladder, lash it to the top rung, do 'ee see?" He suitedthe action to the word. "There! Now 'tis a hook, or a clutch, orwhatever name you like to gie un. We'll lift un again till it hooks onthat ledge; then it will hang free, and you can climb as easy asclimbing trees."
"A capital notion, Sam," cried Dick.
"I said it was, purticler for a poor mazy stunpoll of a feller like me."
"You're a genius if it works out. The thing is to try it."
Raising the ladder to its former position, they moved it along the faceof the wall until one fluke of the anchor held firmly to the ledge ofrock, as they proved by exerting a considerable downward strain.
"This is splendid," said Dick. "Now to go up."
"Ah, don't 'ee take the lantern with 'ee this time. I don't want no morecracks on the nob, and if it fell again, 't 'ud get soused in the water,and then we'd be in darkness."
"You're right. I'll take the candle out and stick it in my hat as theminers do. I must have a light, of course."
"I reckon you must, if you be goin' to find that openin'," said Sam,sceptical to the last.
Dick stuck the lighted candle into the band of his hat, stepped out ofthe boat, and began to climb, Sam watching his progress and offeringbits of cautionary counsel. In a few seconds, when Dick's headprojected above the anchor, he saw that the ledge of rock, extending forsome distance on both sides, was the floor of a roughly rectangularfissure, which penetrated the earth much as the tunnel below penetratedthe cliff. It ran upwards. The smoky light from the candle did notreach far, but Dick, peering over the ledge, was unable to see any solidbackground to the fissure.
"I've found the opening!" he said.
"What do 'ee say?" called Sam. "Yer voice sounds all a mumble and arumble."
Clinging firmly to the ledge with both hands, Dick lowered his head andrepeated the words.
"Now yer satisfied, then," said Sam. "Better come down afore the candlegoes out."
"No. I'm going on."
"But chok' it all, you won't leave me all alone! I'm not afeard, not I;but if there be three or four seals a-comin' home by-and-by, I can'tfight 'em all."
"You must come up too when I've looked a little farther."
"But you can't climb on to the ledge without summat to hold to. MaisterDick, think of yer feyther and mother, and what I'm to say if 'ee fallsand breaks yer neck, and I take 'ee home a gashly corp."
"Don't talk rubbish. I shan't fall if you don't worry me. I'm notgoing to sit for hours longer in the boat till the tide goes down, sohold your tongue till I am safe aloft."
Leaning well forward, he carefully lifted his foot to the next rung,then to the next, watching the anchor to see that it was not displacedby his movements. Then he got one knee on the rocky shelf, stretchedhis arms in front of him, and with a sudden movement heaved his body onto the ledge and fell flat, his feet projecting into space. He crawledalong on hands and knees until his boots disappeared from Sam's view,and stood up within the dark entrance of the fissure.
"I'm up, Sam," he called, his voice reverberating hollowly in the vault.
"Then I be comin' too," cried the boy.
"Not yet. You must wait a little until I see where the opening leadsto. I'll come back for you presently."
He turned his face to the opening and went in. Dim as the light was, herecognised almost at once that he was at the end of a mine adit. Withina few paces the fissure narrowed to a dwarf tunnel, through which a tinystream trickled, disappearing, not over the ledge into the cave, butinto a fissure in the wall of rock. There was space for only twopersons to pass abreast, and as Dick proceeded, he had to bend his headto avoid striking the roof. He was about to explore further, when heremembered that the candle in his hat could not last more than a fewminutes, and to advance in the dark would be foolhardy. He had no morecandles, and supposed that Sam had none, so that it seemed as if he mustpostpone further exploration. But returning to the ledge, he saw alight in the cave.
"You've got some more candle-ends, then?" he cried.
"One, that I've just fished up out of my pocket along with a bit ofstring, some bait, a bit o' pudden that I'd forgot--can't eat it now,hungry as I be, 'cos 'tis all tallowed--and a green penny."
"I want the candle, Sam; mine's going out. Can you pitch it up?"
"I can, but it 'ud only fall back into the water and go t
o the bottom."
"Wait. I've a bit of string in my pocket. I'll let it down; tie thecandle on."
"I must do it, I suppose. Iss, you shall have it, and I'll be left inthe dark, but I'm not afeard--not very."
In a minute Dick had the fresh candle in his hat-band, and once moreentered the tunnel.
It was very damp, and Dick guessed from the trickling stream at his feetthat the adit had been designed, when the mine was in operation, todrain the upper workings. How long ago this was he had no idea. Itmust have been long before old Reuben's time, or the man would have hadmore definite knowledge than he actually possessed, and the existence ofthe opening would have been known as a fact instead of being a merefragment of village tradition.
Dick went on. In some parts the tunnel was almost impassable with earthand rocks that had fallen in. Step as cautiously as he might, every nowand then the rattle of loose earth displaced by his movements caused acold shiver to run down his back. What if there should be a fall behindhim which would cut off his retreat to the cave? The tunnel ought tolead to an opening to the air above, but the way might be blocked, andthe possibility of being entombed was daunting. But having come so farDick was unwilling to give in. The peril might be purely imaginary.Plucking up his courage, he hastened his steps, and after a few minutescame to an enlargement of the tunnel. To his left a second gallery randownward at a sharp angle with that in which he was; no doubt this alsoled to some point of the shore. Still advancing, he saw, with somesurprise, that the passage was strutted in places, and much freer fromobstructions than the portion he had already traversed. About a hundredyards beyond the transverse gallery, however, his progress was suddenlychecked: the whole width of the tunnel was filled with a mass of rocks,stones, and loose earth. A few seconds' examination sufficed to showthe impossibility of proceeding farther in this direction; accordinglyhe retraced his steps and, a few yards away, came to another passage, tofind, however, after twenty or thirty paces, that he was again broughtto a stop.
This time the obstruction was of a different nature. It was a rough doormade of stout wooden beams, closed with a heavy bar resting in sockets.He lifted the bar and pulled the creaking door, which came towards himfor an inch or two, and then stuck. To open it fully he had to removefrom the floor a number of planks and beams, which appeared to be theparts of a broken windlass. Having got the door open and passedthrough, he found himself in a square chamber that smelt very damp andclose, though, on looking upwards, he could see no roof. He concludedthat he was at the bottom of a deep shaft. But it had not the look of amine shaft, which, so far as Dick's experience went, was alwaystimbered. The walls here were cased with stone, moss-grown and damp.
Near the doorway he caught sight of a staple of rusty iron let into thewall; a little above this, a second of the same kind; and at the sameinterval above the second, a third. Looking up the wall, he perceivedthat similar staples projected from the stonework as far up as theflickering light of his candle revealed. Their shape, and the intervalsbetween them, indicated that they were steps by which the wall could beclimbed. And then it flashed upon him suddenly that he was in anancient well, known as St. Cuby's Well, though who St. Cuby was nobodyknew except, perhaps, Mr. Carlyon, deeply learned in the antiquities ofhis county. The upper end of the well-shaft opened on the cliff, abouta quarter-mile from the cottage of old Joe Penwarden, the exciseman. Itwas covered by the ivy-grown ruins of a small oratory, whither in timeslong past the faithful had come to have their children baptised in thewater of the holy well, to drink of it for the cure of their diseases,and to offer up vows and repeat prayers before the sacred cross.
Strange as it may seem, Dick's first impulse, when the identity of hiswhereabouts flashed upon him, was to dash through the doorway andscamper with all imaginable speed back to the cave. He was not moresuperstitious than other boys of his age; but in those days, before oldbeliefs and fancies had undergone the cold douche of science, peoplewere credulous of omens and spells, blessings and curses, beneficentinfluences and the evil eye. From St. Cuby's Well the aroma of sanctityhad long since departed; according to village tradition, a murder ofpeculiar horror had once been committed there; and now it was shunned asa plague spot. No pilgrims came to kneel beneath the sacred roof; nochildren ever played hide and seek among its picturesque ruins;everybody, from the Squire downwards, avoided it, and at night not a manwould have ventured within a hundred yards of its unhallowed precincts.Stories were rife of apparitions seen there; it was these ghosts ofwhich Ike Pendry had spoken to John Trevanion on the night when he hadovertaken the trudging pedestrian on the high road.
Dick, of course, had no belief in ghosts, and regarded the stories withas much intellectual contempt as his father gave to the witch's couplet.But his imagination was subject to impressions which his reason scorned;and in the gloom of the well-shaft, which the yellow rays of his candlerendered more awful than complete darkness could have been, these vagueconceptions of murder, sacrilege, and midnight hauntings possessed hismind so completely as at first to overwhelm his common-sense. But heresolutely crushed down these figments of his imagination, told himselfthat such evil traditions might probably be traced to no more realorigin than the failure of the spring of water, and decided to go backfor his companion and put an end to their captivity by climbing up theiron steps to the surface of the cliff.
"Oh, I am glad to see 'ee," cried Sam, as his young master's headappeared at the brink of the ledge. "I bean't afeard, not I, but 'twas'nation dark, and I felt a queer wamblin' in the inside o' me, 'cos I'mtarrible hungry, I reckon."
"Well, come along. I've found the way out. The opening leads to St.Cuby's Well, and we can climb to the top in no time."
"St. Cuby's Well! Dash my bones if I go within a mile o't. Dead men'sbones, and sperits o' darkness--no, never will I do it."
"Stuff and nonsense!" cried Dick, as stoutly as if he had never felt theleast tremor on his own account. "I've seen no bones, and the spiritshaven't laid a hand on me. Those silly tales only frighten children."
"And females. Ah, 'tis a pity the mistress won't let me take eggs andthings to the Dower House. What I could tell to that nice young femalewi' the hole in her rosy cheeks! How they'd go yaller and white whenshe heerd my tale of blood, and ghosteses in night-gowns, and all theother things o' darkness! Ah, 'twas to be, I s'pose: she'll hear itfrom some one else, and I shan't get the credit of it."
"No; she'll hear that you were too much of a baby to face 'em, andshe'll despise you, instead of thinking well of you as she does now."
"Don't say it, Maister Dick," cried the boy. "Scrounch me if I lose myfame in that miserable way. I'll come, if you'll stand by me, and holdmy hand if we hears a noise, and use your finest language to the speritsif they meddle wi' us. I've heerd tell that the Lord's prayer saidback'ards will tarrify 'em out of their wits, but I reckon yer head'sfull of ancient heathen words that go straightfor'ard, and won't put 'eeto such a tarrible tax as turnin' religion topsy-turvy."
This was said as Sam climbed with deliberate care up the ladder. Hegained the ledge more easily than Dick had done, having the help ofDick's hand.
"Can we get there afore candle's out?" he said anxiously, when theystood side by side.
"If we make haste," replied Dick, taking off his hat and looking at theinch-and-a-half of candle left, and the mass of tallow that lay on thebrim like a small lake of lava. "We can fetch the boat at low-tideto-morrow."
They hurried on, and, Dick knowing the way, reached the shaft in muchquicker time than when he had come alone. Sam got behind him at thedoorway, peering under his armpits with wide eyes, and taking muchcomfort when he saw nothing but mossy walls.
"I'm downright shamed o' folks that believe in such gammut," he said,valiantly following Dick into the chamber.
"Well, now we'll climb up. It must be after sunset, or we should see aglimmer of light at the top. I'll go first."
"No, I'd better go first," said Sam hastily, looking r
ound withsomething of his former air of timorous expectation. "You see, if yougo first, the brim of yer hat will shet out all the light, and I'll missmy footing and be nawthin' but scattered members. But if I go first, do'ee see, and you come close behind me--but not close enough to set mystockings afire--the light will be ekal betwixt us two. Do 'ee see mymanin', Maister Dick?"
"Quite plain. I don't mind. We'll try one or two of the staples first,to make sure they are firm in the stonework, and then you can mount, andas your hind foot leaves one step, my fore hand will clutch it."
The staples stood the test of pulling, first by Dick, then by Sam, whoalso tried them, on the plea that he had more muscle. Then Sam began toclimb, followed closely by Dick. After an ascent of perhaps a hundredfeet, the former declared that he felt a whiff of fresh air, andimmediately afterwards the candle flame was blown out. Looking up pastSam's fore-shortened body, Dick saw one star in the clear dark vault ofthe sky, and in a few seconds they were both standing on the groundbeside the well-head, cooled by the breeze that blew through the ruinedwalls of the chapel from the sea. The roof had gone long ago; grassgrew on the floor, and ivy twined itself in and out of the mullionedwindows.
"There!" said Dick. "We are safe, you see. All that talk of ghosts ispure balderdash."
The darkness and the weird associations of the spot combined to make himset his tone of voice to a murmur. At that moment there fell upon theears of the boys, as they stood side by side to recover breath aftertheir climb, a low sound from somewhere beyond the walls, but not faraway. It was like that of a person speaking in hollow, mournfulaccents. Sam caught Dick by the arm; Dick heard his teeth chatter.
"'Tis he!" whispered the trembling boy. "'Tis the ghost! Oh! let mehide myself afore he see I."
Dick did not reply. He was, it must be confessed, sufficientlystartled. The sound ceased; but in a moment or two it recommenced, nowbeing somewhat louder. Dick was in two minds, now thinking that hewould run, now wondering whether he had not better stay. The slowdroning still approached, and at last he caught articulate words:
"A-deary me! A-deary me! The world's a-cold, a bitter place for----"
The next words were indistinguishable.
"Hark to him!" whispered Sam. "He be in mortal pain, and I do feel thatleery all down the small o' my back."
Dick sniffed, and sniffed again. Then he said:
"Ghosts don't smoke, Sam--at any rate, not tobacco. I'm going to see."
"How do 'ee know?" whispered Sam, still holding him by the arm. "Iwon't be so much afeard of him if he do be smoking bacca, but it may besummat else. It do smell rayther strong for a livin' man."
He followed Dick as he groped his way over fragments of masonry andthrough close-woven masses of ivy and weeds, until they came into theopen. The night was very dark. The first thing they saw, at a distanceof about twelve yards, was a small red glow, which brightened and fadedat intervals. Drawing nearer to it cautiously, they perceived at themoments of greatest brightness that it lit up for an instant a grizzledchin, a sunken mouth, a quite ordinary nose, a ruddy face with a blackpatch over one eye, and a black hat over all.
"'Tis old Joe Penwarden," said Dick, in a tone that expressed surprise,relief, and a shame-faced consciousness.
"So 'tis, I do believe," cried Sam. "Be-jowned if 'a didn't ought to belocked up for playing such gashly tricks on poor souls."
"Avast there! Stand, in the King's name!" cried the old man, hearingtheir voices.
"So we will, so we will," said Sam. "Don't 'ee be afeard, maister; webean't ghosteses, but just common mortals like yerself."
"Oh! 'tis you, Maister Dick," said Penwarden, as the boys came up tohim. "'Pon my life, I was skeered for about a second and a half, neverexpectin' to see mortal men in this old haunt. What be 'ee doin' atthis time o' night, in such a place, too?"
"What time is it, Joe?" asked Dick.
"Time all young things like lambs and birds and boys were abed andasleep. 'Tis past ten."
"Lawk-a-massy, if I didn't think it by the terrible emptiness in myinside," cried Sam, feelingly. "Come home-along, Maister Dick; I bemortal afeard as Feyther will send me to bed wi'out any supper."
"Wait a bit," replied Dick. "Where do you think we've been, Joe?"
"Not night-fishing, for ye've got no tackle. Nor rabbitin', for ye'vegot no snares. Ah, well! Ye med as well tell me first as last, for Ibe no good at guessin'."
"We've come up St. Cuby's Well."
"Come up, you say; but you must go down afore ye come up. I wouldn'tlike to say I don't believe 'ee."
"That would be very unfriendly. The truth is, Joe, we were down in thecave and got shut in by the tide, and to pass the time away we climbedup over a ledge and found ourselves in an old adit, and went along ittill we came to the well-shaft. There are iron steps in the wall, andup we came."
"Well, if that bean't the queerest thing I've heerd for many a day. Whowould ever ha' thowt it!"
"Didn't you know there were steps down the well side?
"Never heerd tell o' sech a thing."
"But haven't you seen it for yourself? I was thinking that, perhaps,you being here now, you knew all about it, and the idea did cross methat you might be the ghost people talk about, though to be sure youdon't look like one."
"Bless 'ee, I've never set foot inside they walls. Sometimes of a nightI come ramblin' round to smoke a peaceful pipe and meditate on the dayso' my youth afore I turn in, but as for goin' inside--no, I've neverthowt o't."
"Was 'ee afeard you med see the ghost, maister?" asked Sam, rejoicing tothink that he had a fellow in timorousness.
"Well, no. A ghost is a sperit, they say, and I reckon I've got enoughmuscle in my aged arm to fend off a thing as has got no body."
"Still, you was talkin' to yerself as if ye was in great pain andsorrer. 'A-deary me,' 'ee said; I heard 'ee twice; and then 'theworld's a-cold,'--and I s'pose 'ee felt the need o' takin' a comfortin'pull at yer pipe, for I heerd no more."
"It do show how young small chickerels like 'ee may be mistaken.Whenever I talk like that I be feelin' warmish and contented; rememberthat, young Sam, and don't traipse about spreadin' false reports aboutme. Moreover, don't 'ee tell nothing of yer climbing up the well, for'a don't want the village rampin' round, spoilin' my peacefulness. St.Cuby's ghost hev his uses, and long may he walk."
"Very well, Joe," said Dick, "we'll say nothing about it. There havebeen no runs yet, I suppose?"
"No; 'tis early days for that. 'Tis true as Mr. Mildmay was called offMorvah way to-day. Maybe they'll try a run there to-night. But it won'tbe long afore we have trouble here, I reckon, for the pilchurs are latethis year, and when they're late, smugglin' is early, 'cos the men gettired o' doin' nothing."
"Well, we had better be going. I usually tell Mother when I expect tobe late, fishing or what not, and she'll wonder what has become of me.Are you coming our way, Joe?"
"Not yet, sir. I've a bit more meditation to get through first."
"What do you meditate about?" asked Dick.
"About my days o' youth, when I was a nimble young feller and served theKing afloat. Ah! they were days, they were. Lord Admiral Nelson be afine little chap, but nothing to the admiral I served with."
"Who was that?"
"Lord Admiral Rodney. Never shall I forget the time he spoke to me:yes, lord as he was, he did so. It do warm me of a cold night to thinkof it. Not every simple mariner could say he'd been spoke to ashore bysech a high person as a admiral."
"What did the lord high admiral say to 'ee?" asked Sam, much impressed.
"Well, 'twas on Plymouth Hoe, and the admiral was walking with twohandsome females, showing 'em Drake's Island; Drake was another mariner,you must know, as lived about a thousand year ago, seemingly. Well, Iturned round to look at the great man, and that moment he changed hiscourse, put up his helm, ye may say, and ran across my bows. 'Get out o'the way, you cross-eyed son of a sea-cook!' says he to me. Ah! neve
rshall I forget it, nor the tinkly laugh o' they fine females. 'Twas agreat honour to be spoke to special by Lord Admiral Rodney, a finefeller of a man."
"I don't wonder it keeps you warm," said Dick, laughing. "Good-night,Joe."
"Good-night to you, sir. And young Sam, mind 'ee o' what I said."
"Make yourself easy, maister," returned Sam. "Oh, dear, what a thing it'ud be to tell the maidy at the Dower House if on'y Squire warn't socruel!"
"What are you mumblin' about?"
"Nawthin', Maister Penwarden. I were on'y thinkin' to myself what a loto' folk 'ud be mazed if they knowed what sorrerful things ye do say whenyer happy."
The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of Eighteen Hundred and Four Page 5
