CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH
Sir Bevil Intervenes
Soon after breakfast next morning Dick and Sam went down to the shore tolaunch their boat for a day's fishing. The post to which it was mooredbeing close under the cliffs, they did not come in sight of it untilthey reached the foot of the winding path. Then Sam, who was walkingahead, uttered a cry.
"What is it?" asked Dick, hurrying on.
"Scrounch it all, look 'ee, Maister Dick!"
The boat lay on the white sand, but it was a navigable vessel no longer.It had been sawn across in three places. The old craft, which hadwithstood for forty years the battering of innumerable waves and themore insidious attacks of time, and in which three generations ofTrevanions had sailed upon the deep, would be launched no more. Itwould henceforth serve no useful end except as firewood.
Dick felt first a pang of grief, then a surge of bitter rage. Hisenemies could not have chosen a more galling or vindictive means ofwreaking their ill-will. They had dealt with the boat as the smugglers'craft were dealt with when captured by the revenue officers. Dick sawin their act a subtle indication of the thoroughness with which theyidentified him with the Government men. It said: "You have joined therevenue officers; very well, we treat you as they treat us." He had nodoubt that the destruction of the boat and the firing of the tool-housewere parts of one scheme.
"The cowards!" he exclaimed, "to do behind our backs what they durst notdo to our face."
"'Tis a miserable, dirty deed," agreed Sam. "We must tell of it to thehigh powers."
"Much good that will be!" cried Dick bitterly. "We can't tell who didit; Sir Bevil will only instruct Petherick, and he is too much of a foolever to find out, if he wanted to, which is unlikely. We can donothing, Sam."
"How can we go fishing now?" said Sam gloomily. "'Tis takin' the breadout of our mouth, that's what it is. They mean us to starve, thewretches."
The loss of the boat was indeed a serious blow to the family at theTowers. The principal source of their food supply was cut off. In thepresent state of war between them and the villagers it would beimpossible to borrow a boat, and the only place from which the boyscould now fish the sea was the head of the jetty, where they would comeinto awkward contact with the hostile fishermen.
Dick examined the segments, with a lingering hope that even now oldReuben, who had so often patched and caulked the boat, might be able torepair it. But the destroyers had done their work only too well; heturned away without a word, and gloomily wended his way homeward.
As he walked towards the house, he saw a horseman riding down the roadtowards the village. At a second glance he recognised him as Sir BevilPortharvan. When he reached home his father told him that Mr. Polwhelehad ridden over to Portharvan House very early, and informed Sir Bevilof the night's occurrence. That gentleman had never been on more thanspeaking terms with Squire Trevanion; it is not easy for a wealthy manto be cordial with one who has gone down in the world and yet retainshis pride. Sir Bevil disapproved of the Squire's attitude to hiscousin, which seemed to him the outcome of sheer envy. But he wassufficiently loyal to his class to be greatly incensed at the criminalaction of which the riding officer told him, and he promised to exerthis influence as a magistrate to prevent any further proceedings of thesame kind.
He rode to the Towers, learnt the particulars from the Squire's lips,and, having coldly expressed his sympathy, went on. As he came to theDower House it occurred to him to see John Trevanion, whom he had metoften of late, and ask him to use his efforts to put down thepersecution. Trevanion's attitude was admirably correct. Heacknowledged that he was on bad terms with the Squire; deplored thebreach, which was not of his making; and promised to let it be known inthe village that he disapproved of such violent measures as the peoplehad recently taken. That was as much as he could do. Sir Bevil wentaway feeling that John Trevanion was an excellent fellow, and regardinghis own errand even more in the light of a troublesome duty than he haddone before.
From the Dower House he went straight to the inn, which was the focus ofthe village life, and the place from which his views would radiate withevery man who left it after drinking his ale, cider, or brandy. Reiningup at the door, he called Doubledick forth.
"Good mornin', yer honour," said the innkeeper, rubbing his handsdeferentially as he obeyed the great man's command.
"Look here, Doubledick," said Sir Bevil bluntly, "I've heard of whatwent on at the Towers last night. That sort of thing won't do, youknow; it must be stopped, and you can tell your customers I say so.Free-trading is all very well, but arson is an ugly word and a hangingmatter; and, egad! if any man is caught playing such low tricks, andbrought before me, he'll get no mercy, I promise you. Make that clear,will you?"
"Iss sure, Sir Bevil," replied the innkeeper. "'Twas a cruel deed, theSquire bein' so cast down and all. I'll tell the folks yer very words,sir, that I will."
"That's right. I saw Mr. John Trevanion on the way down, and he agreedwith me, so there will be an eye on the village nearer than mine."
"Oh, if you seed Maister John, Sir Bevil, 'tis as good as seein' theLord High Constable o' the county, I warrant 'ee. Folks think a deal o'Maister John, they do."
A keener observer than Sir Bevil might have detected a spice of irony inDoubledick's remark. But the baronet was satisfied, and after yieldingto the innkeeper's invitation to take a glass to help him on hishomeward journey, he rode off with the comfortable sense of having donehis duty.
When Dick went to the Parsonage that afternoon for his usual lesson, hetold Mr. Carlyon all that had happened. On the next Sunday the vicarpreached an excellent sermon from the text, "Cursed be he that removethhis neighbour's landmark," which the women listened to withoutunderstanding, the men going to sleep as usual.
The loss of the boat caused something like consternation among theinmates of the Towers. The Squire could not afford to buy a new one; howwas the necessary fishing to be carried on? This problem taxed the witsof Dick, who lay awake for two nights pondering and puzzling. Then thethought came to him, why not build a boat? He had never attempted sucha ticklish piece of work, but he was pretty handy with tools, and theidea of setting his wits against the machinations of the enemy fixed hisresolution.
He remembered sorrowfully that with the burnt tool-house had perishedhis tools and the carpenter's bench at which he had been accustomed towork. But he could borrow the necessary implements from Petherick, thesexton, who did all the repairs required at the church and theParsonage. There was no lack of timber in the planking of the ruinedportion of the Towers. The most formidable obstacle was his absoluteignorance of the art of boat-building, but a means of overcoming thatsoon suggested itself.
The Polkerran fishers obtained their boats from St. Ives, fifteen orsixteen miles away. A tramp of that distance was nothing to a healthylad, so, early one morning, taking some bread and cheese in a wallet,and telling no one of his intention, Dick set off. It was a rawNovember day; the road was wet and muddy, and as Dick passed under thetrees along the route his face and neck were bespattered by thedrippings from their bare boughs. But he made light of such ordinarydiscomforts of winter; the swinging pace at which he walked set hisblood coursing, and by the time he arrived at St. Ives his whole bodywas in a healthy glow. He entered an inn and moistened his dry farewith a glass of ale, then found his way to the principal boat-builder'syard, and stood looking on as the workmen sawed and planed and hammered.The builder had no secret to guard; his yard was open to any one whocared to visit it. He gave Dick a friendly greeting; the men threw aglance at him, and went on with their work and their gossip asunconcernedly as though he were not there.
Having spent several hours thus, strolling through the town to warmhimself while the men were at dinner, he set off in the afternoon on hislong tramp homeward, going over in his head the details of theoperations he had witnessed. Next day he appeared in the yard at thesame time. The mast
er-builder himself was absent, and there was a shadeof surprise in the men's expression of face as they saw him enter; but,as before, they paid no attention to him, and showed neither interestnor curiosity.
On the third day, however, when he again made his appearance, theirrustic stolidity was penetrated at last.
"Mornin' to 'ee, sonny," said the foreman builder, a cheerful-lookingveteran of sixty; "you be as regular as church-clock, to be sure."
Dick smiled and returned the man's greeting.
"You will know a boat from keel to gunwale," continued the foreman.
"That's what I've come for," said Dick.
"Well, now, think o' that!"
"Didn't I tell 'ee so, gaffer?" remarked one of the men.
"True, you did, and a clever seein' eye you have got, Ben."
"And _I_ said 'a was not a common poor man," said another. "That's what_I_ said, bean't it, Ben?"
"Iss, fay, they was yer very words."
"Well, sir," said the foreman, "seein' that these clever fellers haveseed so far into ye, maybe you'll tell what's your hidden purpose inlookin' at we."
"I'm learning how to build a boat," replied Dick.
"Good now! You never thought o' that, Ben, clever as ye be, I warrant'ee. Well, sonny--sir, I mean--I've been nigh fifty year larnin' tobuild a boat, and I bean't done larnin' yet."
"That's bad news, because I want to build one in a week or two."
"Well, I won't say but you can make some sort of a tub in the time, but'twill be a wambly figure o' fun, and be very useful for givin' ye asea-bath. Ha! ha!"
"There's no harm in trying, though," said Dick, good-humouredly."Perhaps if you'd let me try my hand I might pick up a notion or two."
"I don't mind if I do. Just set they thwarts in the splines; that's alittle small job, and we'll see how 'ee do set about it."
Dick stripped off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded toperform the task given him, the foreman watching him critically thewhile.
"Not so bad," he said when the job was finished. "I won't say butMaister will cuss when he do see it, but 'tis not so bad for a youngfeller; what do 'ee say, my sonnies?"
The men left their work and inspected Dick's, twisting their necks,pressing their lips together, and showing other marks of solemnconsideration. They pronounced the work pretty good, and declared theywouldn't have believed it.
The foreman gave Dick other little jobs to do, and being more pleasedwith the lad's handiness than he had admitted, he took pains to instructhim. Dick learnt about ribs and splines; how to steam the ribs and givethe necessary "flare"; the difficulty of getting the planking to "fly"to a true curve without "shramming"; and many other technical detailswhich dashed his hope of being able to build a boat in a week.
"Don't 'ee go and set up for a boat-builder, though," said the foremanpleasantly. "Maister will werrit if he do think the bread 'll be tookout of his mouth."
"No fear of that," replied Dick laughing. "I only want to build a boatfor myself, to replace an old one I lost."
"Well, I will say 'tis a right good notion to build one yerself insteado' buyin' one, though 'twouldn't do for we if everybody was so handy."
Dick's journeys to and fro between Polkerran and St. Ives extended overten days. His absences greatly puzzled Sam, but Dick gave noexplanation until he felt that he had learned enough to make a start,and decided to visit the boat-builder's no more. He was not so foolishas to suppose that he had mastered the trade, but believed he knewenough to enable him to construct a boat that would serve his simplepurpose. Then one morning he set Sam to collect a number of soundplanks from the floors and wainscoting in the unused rooms at theTowers, and having borrowed from Petherick the tools necessary tosupplement those that Reuben had, he began his task.
Day by day for a fortnight the lads worked steadily, using thedilapidated stables for their workshop. Occasionally the Squire andReuben stood by and criticised; old Penwarden, too, looked in andoffered a more or less impracticable suggestion. Once when Dick was ata loss how to proceed, he trudged to St. Ives to consult the foreman.
"What, Maister, has she sunk a'ready?" said the man with twinkling eyes,as Dick entered.
He obtained the information he desired, and within a few days afterwardsthe boat was finished. Nobody at the Towers, except her makers, believedthat she would float. How to get her down to the water was at first abaffling problem. She was too heavy and cumbersome to be carried downthe cliff-path by the boys, and they would not seek assistance from thevillagers. It was Mr. Carlyon that solved the difficulty. He suggestedthat the boat should be conveyed on a farmer's wagon to a dell aboutfour miles northward, where a stream flowed into the sea. This was doneearly one morning, the farmer, a friend of the Vicar's, being bound tosecrecy. They launched the boat on the stream, and Sam gave a whoop ofdelight on seeing that she rode fairly upright. With a couple of sparesculls from their nook on the Beal, they pulled her out to sea, and Dickwas pardonably proud of his handiwork when she proved quite seaworthy,if somewhat lumbering.
"She's not very pretty, but she's strong," he said to Sam, "and that isall we need trouble about."
During the weeks in which Dick had been thus occupied, no furtherannoyance was suffered from the villagers. Sir Bevil's warning hadapparently taken effect. Penwarden reported that two more seriouschecks had been given to the smugglers. Once they had been interruptedin the act of running a cargo at Lunnan Cove, some miles to the south,and a hundred tubs had been seized by Mr. Mildmay. A few days later,the cutter had gone in chase of a lugger in a stiff gale, and theseamanship of the smugglers being at least equal to that of the King'smen, the quarry had escaped. But her crew, not daring to run the cargowhile the revenue officers were on the alert, had sunk the tubs, whichwere always carried ready slung to meet such an emergency, in fivefathoms of water beyond St. Cuby's Cove. In their hurry, however, thework was not done so carefully as usual, with the result that one of thetubs was chafed off the sinking rope, drifted about, and next morningwas descried by Penwarden from the cliff. He informed Mr. Mildmay. Theshallow water along the shore was systematically searched, and the wholecargo was hooked up by means of "creeps," as the grapnels were called.Rumour, reaching the Towers by way of the Parsonage, said that on boththese occasions Tonkin was the freighter, so that his loss by thesuccessive failures was probably not far short of L300.
Tidings came, also, by the local carrier, of renewed activity on thepart of the _Aimable Vertu_ in the Channel. A revenue cruiser hadfought an action with her off the Lizard, and was worsted, her commanderbeing wounded, and the vessel only escaping by running in shore toshallow water, where the privateer could not follow. The authorities,already deeply incensed by the escape of Delarousse from Plymouth, werefurious at this recurrence of his depredations, and had offered a highprice for information of his movements, and a still higher reward to anyofficer who should capture him.
For a few days Dick laid up his new boat, when fishing was done, in themouth of the little stream on which he had launched it, tramping backwith Sam over the four miles to the Towers. But this became irksome,and he tried to think of some means of keeping the craft nearer homewithout running the risk of its destruction by the smugglers. After agood deal of anxious consideration he hit upon the idea of building ashed for it on the beach at the foot of the cliff.
"Jown me if I see the good o' 't," said Sam, when Dick explained hisplan. "They'll break into the shed, or fire it, if they want to, andwe'll lose our boat and our labour too."
"But I've thought of a way of preventing that, Sam. They won'tinterfere with it in daylight: 'tis only the night we need fear. Well,we'll make 'em give us warning of any trick they play."
"I don't see how, unless they be born fools."
"They're not fools: far from it: but they might be a trifle sharper inthe wits, perhaps. If it comes to scheming, I think we can beat 'em,Sam. We'll build the shed close under the house. Now listen. We'llmake the door to open outward
s, and tie a strand of sewing thread to thebottom, running it through hooks along the wall and out at the back ofthe shed. There we'll tie it to a fishing-line, and round a pulley upto the cliff-top, taking care to keep it off the rock by making it runthrough notches in sticks of wood. At the top we'll have anotherpulley, and at the foot of the house wall another, and so carry it intomy bedroom. There we'll fasten it to a weight--a poker will do; whichwe'll sling up beside the window. We'll put a tea-tray underneath it,d' you see? so that if the shed door is pulled open the thread willbreak, the poker will fall, and make such a clatter that we are bound tohear it all over the house."
Sam broke into laughter.
"Ha! ha! it do mind me of the old 'ooman and little crooked sixpence,"he cried. "Do 'ee mind, Maister Dick? 'Cat began to kill the rat, ratbegan to gnaw the rope,' and so on till th' old 'ooman got home at last.My life, 'tis a noble notion! What a headpiece you have got, to besure! But, scrounch it all, won't they see the line?"
"I don't think so. 'Tis so much the colour of the rock that it willescape notice."
"True. But s'pose we do hear a clatter-bang. That won't stop 'em fromhauling out the boat, and we couldn' get down the cliff in time to saveher."
"I'd thought of that. We'll fix up a booby-trap over the door."
"Never heerd o't. What be a booby-trap?"
"'Tis a thing that Mr. Carlyon told me of, a trick he used to play whenhe was a young fellow at college. You fix above the doorway somethingthat will tumble down when the door is opened, and come plump on thehead of any one entering. That will stagger them, and while they arerecovering their wits we shall have time to run down. You may be surethey'll run away before we get to them, for if we recognize them they'llhave Sir Bevil to reckon with."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Sam. "That 'ud be a funny sight to see. We'll do it,Maister Dick, and 'tis my wish I bean't too sleepy to tumble up whenthey tries their tricks."
It was a full day's work, from daybreak to long past sunset, to erectthe shed from materials carefully prepared beforehand. Dick felt thenecessity of completing the apparatus before another day dawned, lesttheir proceedings should be spied from a passing boat and reported inthe village before they were ready. He obtained permission from hisfather to remain out, telling him frankly what his purpose was, butwithout giving details, and toiled on, by the light of a screenedlantern, until the whole contrivance wis finished. The booby-trapconsisted of a pail nicely balanced on a bar running across the shed,and filled with water deeply coloured with indigo. It was connected bya thread with a loose board in the floor beneath, so that a trespasserstepping across the threshold would snap the thread, cause the pail toturn on its axis, and receive its contents on his head.
"The parson used flour, he told me," said Dick, "but 'tis too good towaste on those rascals."
"Ay, and a dousin' will make 'em cuss more," said Sam. "Oh, 'twillgrieve me tarrible if I be asleep!"
Three days passed. Apparently the shed had not been discovered by thevillagers. The boys tested their invention and found it successful.They took the boat out each morning, and restored it to its place whenthe day's fishing was done, fastening the door from the inside,connecting it with the booby-trap, and leaving the shed by a small door,just large enough to crawl through, at the back.
On the third evening Mr. Carlyon came to the Towers to join theTrevanions in a game of whist, as he did frequently during the wintermonths. It was a still, clear night, with a touch of frost in the air;but the cold did not penetrate to the Squire's room, where a blazingwood fire threw a rosy radiance on the panelled walls, and woke smilingreflections in the glasses and decanters that stood on a table near thatat which the party of four were absorbed in their game. The house wasquiet; Reuben and Sam had retired to rest, for the Vicar would need noattendance when he mounted his cob to ride home.
The Squire was in the act of shuffling the pack, when suddenly thesilence of the house was shattered by a tremendous crash in one of therooms above. Mrs. Trevanion pressed her hand to her side; the Squiremissed his cast, and let the cards fall to the floor; Mr. Carlyon putdown the glass which he had just raised to his lips, so hastily that thefluid spilled on the baize. Dick sprang up.
"'Tis the alarm!" he cried. "They are at my shed!"
He dashed out of the room, to meet Sam in shirt and breeches tumblingdown the stairs. Dick seized a cutlass hanging on the wall, Sam theparson's riding-whip, and throwing open the door they sallied out intothe night.
"It dinged me out of a lovely dream," said Sam. "Dash my buttons, 'twasa noble noise."
They scampered along the cliff to the zigzag path. Meanwhile the Squirehurriedly explained the matter to the astonished Vicar.
"Bless my life, I must go too," cried Mr. Carlyon. "The impudence of thescoundrels! Is this the result of Sir Bevil's intervention? Comealong, Squire; bring your pistols. Man of peace as I am, I will giveyou absolution if you wing one of those fellows!"
The two hastened forth less than a minute after the boys. Both wereactive men, in spite of their years, and they scrambled down the pathwith no more stumbles than were excusable in elderly gentlemen a littleshort in the wind. Before they got to the bottom they saw a boat justpulling off from the shore, and the boys knee-deep in water, trying togive a parting salutation with their weapons to the disturbers of thepeace. Sam had the satisfaction of hearing a bellow from the man in thestern of the boat as the whip-thong slashed his face; but Dick's cutlasswas not long enough for effective use, and in a few seconds themarauders were out of reach.
The four met on the beach and hastened up towards the shed. To theirsurprise the door was only half open.
"They must have heard the noise," said Dick. "My window is open. Idaresay they waited to see what it meant, and then heard us coming down,for when we got to the foot of the path they were beginning to shove theboat off."
"The neatest contrivance I ever heard of. I congratulate you on youringenuity," said the Vicar heartily. "But we may as well see that thevillains have done no mischief."
As he spoke he pulled the door fully open, and before Dick could checkhim, set his foot on the threshold. Instantly there was a splash; theworthy man gasped and spluttered, and came out with a spring, shakinghis head like a dog emerging from a bath.
"God bless my soul!" cried the Squire, looking with amazement at thedark shower pouring from his friend on to the sand. "What on earth isthis?"
"Ho! ho!" laughed Sam, prancing with delight, his veneration for theChurch quite eclipsed by his joy at a fellow mortal's misadventure. "Iha' seed it arter all. Ho! ho!"
Dick, overwhelmed with dismay, shook Sam by the arm and bade him besilent. What excuse, what reparation could he make to the venerablegentleman who had suffered so untoward an accident?
"I didn't think--I tried to--I'm dreadfully sorry, sir," he stammered.
"Ha! ha!" came the parson's rolling laugh. "'Pon my life, he's an aptpupil, Squire. The young dog! Ha! ha!"
"Explain this--this--" began the Squire angrily.
"This booby-trap, Squire," cried Mr. Carlyon. "'Tis I am the booby. Itaught Dick, in a reckless burst of confidence, how we young rantipolesat Oxford used to deal with each other--and our tutors too, I'm bound tosay. I wish I hadn't. But, you young rascal, I told you that we usedflour: what is this horrible stuff?"
"Only a solution of indigo, sir; it won't do you any harm," replied poorDick.
"Won't do me any harm? Only make me black and blue, eh? Ha! ha! I'mglad 'tis no worse. But 'tis a thousand pities those ruffians escapedthe shower. Well, well, the rain falls on the just and the unjust,we're told, and----bless me, Squire, it takes me back forty years, whenwe had rigged up a trap for a freshman, and it toppled on the reverendhead of the dean himself. Ha! ha!"
"Ha! ha!" laughed the Squire, his vexation giving way to his sense ofhumour.
"Ho! ho!" roared Sam. "Drown me if it bean't the----"
"Shut up!" growled Dick. "Why must you laugh at
the Vicar in thatidiotic way?"
"'Cos he laughs at hisself," said Sam, highly aggrieved. "I wouldn'laugh at him with his nightgown on in church, not I; but when he be justlike a simple common man, daze me if I can keep it in."
The two elders were now climbing the path. Dick stayed to retie thethread, though he did not expect that the marauders, after the alarmthey had had, would make a second attempt that night. Having closed thedoor, he accompanied Sam up the cliff, greatly relieved when he heard,far above, the Vicar's hearty laugh, as he related to the Squire sundryother pranks and escapades of his younger days.
The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of Eighteen Hundred and Four Page 11
