CHAPTER THE TWELFTH
Penwarden Disappears
As Dick hoped, the scare given to the enemy by his prompt sally from theTowers proved effectual; no further attempt was made to interfere withthe boat. Rumours of the contrivance for giving an alarm spread amongthe villagers, and Mr. Carlyon, without revealing his own misadventure,took care to explain to Petherick, sexton, beadle, and constable, thatthe intruders would have suffered material damage if they had had thecourage to enter the shed. Petherick duly reported this, as the parsonintended, adding on his own account that the young monkeys had inventedan instrument of torture for all who dared to molest them. The parson'shousekeeper discussed with Petherick a strange stain upon her master'sstock, and Petherick himself, despatched one day to the Truro perruquierwith a parcel carefully tied, was amazed when the tradesman, opening itin his presence, revealed a wig, not iron grey, but mottled blue incolour. These matters were a topic of conversation in Polkerran for manya day, and there were some who offered explanations, and some who shooktheir heads and looked profoundly wise, but discreetly held theirtongues. The truth was never known outside the Towers, Dick threateningSam with excommunication if he breathed a word of it.
One Wednesday, early in December, the boys set out a little before dawnto fish. The air was cold and misty; trickles of condensed moisture randown their faces and necks, and little pools formed on the rims of theirhats. The exercise of rowing warmed them, and the discomfort, alwaysless to their seasoned skins than it would have been to a townsman and alandlubber, was forgotten altogether when the fish rose freely to theirbait. They made a good catch after two hours' work, and turned to rowback in order to carry the fish home in time for early breakfast.
They had come nearly a mile from shore, and were pulling hard, the windblowing off the land against them, when all at once, some distanceastern, there loomed out of the mist a three-masted vessel ofconsiderable size.
"Look, Sam," said Dick, "isn't that the same craft we saw following thesmack that night?"
"'Tis so," replied Sam; "the night Maister John come home-along. I saidhe landed from the smack, you mind; you said 'a didn't; and I don't carewho the man is, but I know I be right."
"Pull away, Sam. We don't want to be seen. It may be the Frenchprivateer we've heard about, and we ought to tell Mr. Mildmay orPenwarden."
"True, and there's money if she's catched. Would they gie us a bit o't,think 'ee?"
"I daresay. There! She has vanished into the mist again. Do you knowif the cutter is in the harbour, Sam?"
"She warn't yesterday. Maister Mildmay is busy down coast. I'd lieverold Joe got the money than he."
They saw no more of the vessel, even from the top of the cliff. Mr.Trevanion was interested in their news, and agreed that it shouldcertainly be imparted to Penwarden or Mr. Polwhele, Mr. Mildmay beingabsent.
Dick remembered that the old exciseman had probably been up all night.He sympathised with him in his arduous duty of watching all through thelong hours of darkness, in fair or foul weather, frost or rain. At dawnof day Penwarden was accustomed to take a "watch below," as he calledit, until noon, priding himself on requiring no more than four or fivehours' sleep. At noon an old woman from the village came to get hisdinner and tidy up, leaving when her work was done, his other mealsbeing prepared by himself. Dick decided not to awaken Penwarden untilhe had had his sleep out, but to seek Mr. Polwhele, whose house stood onthe cliff half-a-mile on the further side of the village. Dick wentthere by a roundabout way, to avoid meeting the fisher-people and theirsour looks. The riding-officer was much surprised at the news hebrought.
"'Tis a risky thing on the part of Delarousse, if 'tis indeed he," saidMr. Polwhele; "and why he should come here I can't tell, for Polkerranis not worth powder and shot."
"Maybe to arrange for running a cargo," said Dick.
"I don't think that, for 'tis whispered that the folks here do not dealwith him any longer. I can't think 'tis he, but I will run up my signalto warn Mr. Mildmay, if he can see it through the mist. Thank 'ee forthe news. Perhaps you will tell Penwarden, and ask him to keep an eyelifting."
Dick promised to do so, and returned home.
Shortly before twelve, the time when Penwarden was usually moving aboutagain, Dick walked up to the cottage to inform him of the strangevessel. He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. Thinking thatthe old man was lying later than usual after a tiring night's duty, Dickfelt loth to rouse him, and resolved to wait a while, walking up anddown before the cottage, beating himself for warmth's sake. Now andthen he stopped to listen at the door, but there was no sound fromwithin, nor indeed without, except the booming of the surf, the whistleof the wind impinging on the cliff edge, and the screams of gulls whichhad not yet flown inland to seek their winter sustenance in theneighbourhood of farms. The mist cleared off, and not a sign of thevessel was to be seen on the horizon.
"Old Gammer Oliver is late, too," thought Dick. "Perhaps Joe told hernot to come at her usual time."
He took a book from his pocket, and read it, still walking up and down.But he soon tired of this; the hour for the midday meal at the Towerswas drawing on; and he would have returned but for his promise to Mr.Polwhele.
"I ought to have hammered hard on the door at once," he said to himself."Tired as he must be, he would not mind being disturbed in this case."
He shut up his book, slipped it into his pocket, and strode brisklytowards the cottage, about thirty paces distant. No smoke was risingfrom the chimney; nothing was audible but the wind rustling the leavesof a laurel bush, and causing the bare tendrils of last year's creeperto scratch against the wall. The sudden scream of a gull wheeling itsflight above the roof made Dick start and look round uneasily. Therewas nothing living, on four feet or on two, in sight.
He came to the door, and, hesitating no longer, rapped smartly upon it.Neither voice nor movement answered him. Again he knocked, with greaterenergy, calling the old man by name. The perfect silence when hisknuckles ceased their tattoo alarmed him. Joe always locked the doorwhen he left the cottage by day, and locked and bolted it when heretired at night. Still, it was a natural act to turn the handle, andDick, when he did so, almost laughed, for the door opened, revealing thedark little passage, on one side of which was the bedroom, on the otherthe kitchen and sitting-room in one. Of course, the old fellow had goneout.
But as Dick stood on the threshold and his eyes became accustomed to thedimness within, this comforting reflection gave way to surprise andapprehension. Half-way down the passage Penwarden's hat lay on thefloor. Near it was a bundle of bulrushes which he had brought back froma voyage in his sea-going days; it usually stood against the wallbeneath a portrait of Rodney. Beyond, the glass of a case enclosing astuffed John-Dory was broken to splinters, which glinted from the stonefloor. The passage presented a strange contrast to its usual neat andtidy appearance.
"Joe!" Dick called.
His voice reverberated; there was no other sound. He entered the passageand opened the door of the kitchen. It was empty; nothing was indisorder; a kettle stood on the hob; on the table lay a mug, a knife,and a plate holding a few crumbs of bread, witnesses to the old man'ssupper. Dick turned about, crossed the passage, and halted for a momentat the bedroom door, seized by the shaking thought that Joe had beentaken ill in the night--was perhaps dead. He called, rapped, and, withquivering nerves, entered. The blind was down, so that he couldscarcely see; but there was the bed, empty, the bedclothes disturbed.He pulled up the blind. The cold light of the winter sky flooded theroom, and he saw things that filled him with alarm. A chair wasoverturned; fragments of a pipe and a tinder-box lay beside the bed; athin hair rug was creased into the shape of billows; on one of the whitedeals was a dark red stain. The appearance of both room and passagepointed to a struggle. The stain was the fresh mark of blood.
What had become of the old man? Dick felt the answer to his unspokenque
stion. Excisemen had many enemies; sometimes they lost their lives,not merely in open fight with the smugglers, but by insidious attack.Mr. Mildmay had told of ambushes, midnight assaults, torture, brutalmurders. Such incidents were almost unknown in the west country; thefair fame of Cornishmen had not been sullied as that of the men of Kentand Sussex had been. But what more likely than that the bitterill-feeling rife in the village, which had lately vented itself againstthe inmates of the Towers, should now have sought a new victim inPenwarden? If the smugglers were prepared to go such lengths againstthe Trevanions, towards whom their hereditary loyalty had forgenerations been akin to the Scottish clansman's devotion to his chief,they would scarcely be disposed to spare a humble old seaman, to whomthey attributed the heavy losses they had recently suffered.
These thoughts ran through Dick's mind in a moment. That Penwarden hadsuffered violent handling he could not doubt. He must at once reportthe disappearance. He hurried from the room, closing the door, and inthe passage met Gammer Oliver, as she was called, the old woman who camedaily from the village.
"Oh, Maister Trevanion!" she exclaimed, "you did give me a turn."
"Mr. Penwarden is not here; something has happened to him. You don'tknow anything about him?"
"Do 'ee say it? Lawk-a-deary, and me so late and all! My darter wastook bad this morning, or----"
"Do you know anything about him?" repeated Dick.
"Not a mossel, sir. I hain't seed the gaffer since I gied un his dinneryesterday. Save us all! What a moil and muddle things be in!"
"Yes, I don't know what has happened. Tidy up, and bring the door-keyto the Towers. I am going now."
He hastened home, and told the Squire what he had discovered, and whathis suspicions were. Mr. Trevanion, often supine and sluggish in mattersconcerning himself, was energetic enough when he heard of wrong orinjustice suffered by others.
"This is scandalous!" he exclaimed. "Do you go at once and find Mr.Polwhele, Dick. I will hurry to the parson. Stay, I'll give Sam a notefor Sir Bevil; we must raise a hue and cry after the old man. Where isMildmay, I wonder?"
"Mr. Polwhele was going to signal to him, sir," said Dick.
"That's right. He must watch the coast. I've heard of the wretchesshipping off to France preventive men who make themselves troublesome.'Tis ten to one they will serve Penwarden so; that vessel you saw mayhave come for that purpose."
Within a few minutes the three active members of the household had gonetheir several ways. Dick hastened for the second time to see theriding-officer. As he went he came to a resolution. The smugglers, itwas clear, were determined on pursuing their policy of persecution. Allwho opposed them, or whom they supposed to be their opponents, wouldhave to reckon with their remorseless animosity, which might expressitself in open violence or deeds of stealth as necessity demanded. Itwas to be war, and, as events were shaping themselves, war between thevillage and the Towers. Well, the war should be fought out. Thequarrel had been forced on the Trevanions; they had not willinglydeparted from their neutrality; but matters had now gone so far that toremain neutral was impossible, and Dick resolved to take once for allthe side of the law. He anticipated some difficulty in bringing hisfather to adopt the same attitude; but at the present moment the Squirewas so indignant with the smugglers that, even if he was not ready tothrow himself into active opposition to them, he might not forbid Dickto do so. Feeling that at such a crisis all quiet work at his books wasimpossible, Dick determined to beg Mr. Carlyon to release him, and todevote himself heart and soul to the contest, whether of wits orweapons. The first object must be the rescue of Joe Penwarden.
Mr. Polwhele was still at home.
"This is a new thing, 'pon my life," he said, when Dick had told him histidings. "Till now the villains have been only on the defensive; totake the offensive means there's a new spirit working in 'em. D'youthink, now, that your father is right, and John Trevanion is the manbehind?"
"I don't want to say what I think, Mr. Polwhele," replied Dick."Whether he is or not, we must put a stop to it. I can't do much, butwhat I can do I will."
"I'm glad to hear it. The curious thing is that John Trevanion has butlately been here. One of the fishers had told him of the strangevessel, and he came for the same purpose as you, to ask me to signal toMr. Mildmay. He said it was scandalous that the Frenchman should beallowed to cruise at large."
"Do you think she came to ship Penwarden away, sir? That is my father'sidea."
"'Tis a notion, now, but not likely, unless John Trevanion came here tothrow me off the scent. You saw no small boat pulling to the ship, didyou?"
"No, sir."
"Then I think the Squire is wrong. Now, seemingly, Mr. Mildmay has notseen my signal, but he must be somewhere off the coast. As soon as 'tisdark I will show a light with my telescope lantern; that will fetch him;and if you are ready to join hands with us, I will bring him to theTowers and we'll hold a council of war. Will the Squire agree to it?"
"I don't know. I'll ask him, and if you'll meet me at six o'clock onthe bridge yonder, I will tell you what he says."
When the Squire returned from his visit to the Parsonage, Dick openedhis mind to him. At first Mr. Trevanion shrank from definitelycommitting himself to the cause of the revenue officers, but when Dickpointed out that his position could scarcely be worse than it was, andthat the Trevanion influence might still have some weight with thebetter-disposed among the village folk, he consented to theriding-officer's proposal.
"The vicar is coming over this evening," he said. "We shall at any ratehave all the wisdom of the parish."
At half-past six there met in the Squire's room, Mr. Mildmay, theriding-officer, Mr. Carlyon, and Dick. They drew their chairs to thefire; the elder men lit their churchwarden pipes, and, with glasses ofsteaming toddy at their elbows, proceeded to discuss the situation.
"I have a note from Sir Bevil," said the Squire. "He is sending to Trurofor assistance. What shape that may take I don't know."
"The shape of a constable or two, probably," said Mr. Polwhele, "and ifthey are no better than Petherick, they won't help us much."
"Petherick shall cry the village to-morrow," said the Vicar. "Being ajustice as well as parson, I have written out a proclamation, summoningall good and true men to give information that will lead to thediscovery of Penwarden, dead or alive."
"I don't believe they'd murder him," said Mr. Mildmay, "or they wouldn'ttake the trouble to spirit him away. A crack on the head would be amuch simpler matter."
"What do you suppose is their object in kidnapping him?" asked theVicar.
"Either to hold him while they run a specially valuable cargo, or toship him to France and keep him permanently out of their way. A fool'strick; for he's bound to be replaced, though we'd find it hard to get abetter man, old as he is."
"And foolish in another way," added the riding-officer. "They ought toknow that a deed of that kind will only stir up the rest of us. Iwouldn't give much for their chances of running a cargo yet awhile."
"Nor for shipping him," said Mr. Mildmay. "I'll swear they haven't doneit yet. My boats were up and down the coast all last night. One ofthem spied that rascally privateer putting in towards St. Cuby's Cove inthe mist this morning, but she sailed away, and though I gave chase, shegot off. To-night we'll have the boats patrolling for miles; I defy 'emto slip through us."
"When did they seize him, d'you suppose?" asked the Squire.
"In the early morning, I think, Father," said Dick, "before it waslight. The blood stain was quite fresh. They must have hidden himsomewhere; they wouldn't carry him away in the daylight, in case someone saw them."
"That wouldn't trouble them, bless you," said Mr. Mildmay. "AllPolkerran and most of the folk around are hand-in-glove with them. Theycould count on the silence of everybody but a few ranters andpsalm-singers, who would either be abed and asleep, or going about theirbusiness."
"I don't agree with you, Mildmay," said the Sq
uire. "They would have topass this house on the way to the village, and they know very well thatDick and young Sam are early birds; they wouldn't risk meeting them.No; 'twas done in the dark, depend on it."
"That might be if they took him to the village, but we don't know that,"retorted Mr. Mildmay. "No doubt there are any number of undergroundcellars and secret passages in the village: 'twas in some such placethat fellow Delarousse was hidden while the dragoons were searching theinn, you may be sure. But those are not the only possiblehiding-places. What with nooks, caves, and adits in the abandonedmines, we might search for a month of Sundays and not find the poorfellow."
"But they won't hold him long, surely," said Dick. "What a trouble itwould be to guard him and feed him!"
"True; they would expect to be able to ship him soon. If they areplanning a run, and find we're too watchful for them, I'll be boundthey'll let him loose before long, and we'll find him one fine morningback again."
"Dick speaks of guarding and feeding," said Mr. Carlyon. "May not thatgive us a clue? It seems probable, as Mr. Mildmay suggests, that he isnot in the village. If he is elsewhere, somebody must leave the villageto carry food to him, and a vigilant watch would detect the fellow."
"Bless my life, parson," said Mr. Polwhele, "you don't know theserascals. They're as wary as otters and as slippery as eels. I'llwarrant they'd slip us in broad daylight, and as to the darkness ofnight, why, a regiment of soldiers wouldn't be large enough to net 'em."
"Well, to be practical," said the Squire. "You, Vicar, as a justice,can give Mr. Polwhele a warrant of search. You may unearth him in thevillage, and I should begin with the inn; Doubledick's name suits him.With the coast closely watched by Mr. Mildmay's men, the kidnapperscannot ship him. Sir Bevil will raise the hue and cry in theneighbourhood inland, and 'tis such a serious matter that I doubtwhether any of the yeomen would connive at it. The name of _habeascorpus_ would scare them out of their wits. I'm inclined to think withMr. Mildmay that the rascals will let him loose in a day or two whenthey see what a stir they have made; but of course we must not rely onthat, but do our best to ferret him out."
"Very well summed up, Squire," said the Vicar. "We cannot do moreto-night; and, as 'tis not late, perhaps you and these gentlemen wouldfavour me with a rubber. Polwhele trumped my trick last time," headded, under his breath.
"With all my heart," cried the Squire. "Dick, bring the cards, and askReuben to fry some pilchards. All work and no play, Mr. Mildmay, youknow----"
The gentlemen were nothing loth to spend an hour or two in this way.They had supper at eight; the officers then left to attend to theirnocturnal duties; and as Mr. Carlyon remained to play piquet with theSquire, Dick went to bed early, resolving to take some independent stepsin the morning.
The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of Eighteen Hundred and Four Page 12
