by George Moore
My Fancy was sharp at both ends, and as if she were not heavy enough in her planks Mr. Williams had paved her with great stones, which, he said in answer to Percy’s question, would keep her steady in the Sound. For we may meet a whirlpool or two, though the tide is not running yet. We shan’t be long getting you over, he added. Once outside of the ness we shall catch a wind or two. An almost unfulfilled prediction this was, for although a languid air filled the sails, the sheets were never taut. The oars were out, and it was these that carried them over within sight of the boiling Sound under cliffs towering hundreds of feet above the sea and about whose base the sea prowled like a savage beast, though the day was well-nigh windless. Of landing-places there seemed to be no sign, and they sailed along the rocks watching the whirlpools. You see, the tide has begun to run, but that’s nothing to what it will be in a couple of hours’ time, said Mr. Williams. On our return, we shall have to make for the open sea to get above the ness, he added, words not very explicit to Hugh and Percy, who had no mind to give to them, so anxious were they to catch sight of the cove into which the boat might be run. It came at last, no more than a little gravel shore between high rocks up which they passed skilfully enough, but the boat being so heavy a little wading had to be done through the surf. But there’ll be no hurt in that, said Mr. Williams as he led them up a steep path to the door of the farmer’s house, for he was bound to ask for leave to walk over the land. But the farmer had gone away to his fields, and the English language was unknown to the old Welsh woman in charge. Out of whose toothless gums issues a Welsh more fluent than Williams’s, Percy remarked to Hugh, who begged him to restrain his criticism, the Welsh being very proud of a knowledge of their language.
The old woman could not tell whither the farmer had gone, or Mr. Williams could not understand her, and going in search of him they came upon the farmyard, a vast mire in which stood three or four empty byres with sagging roofs and broken doorways, a dismal spectacle from which they withdrew. And it seeming to them that to await the farmer’s return would be trying their patience, Hugh proposed a visit to St. David’s hermitage to Mr. Williams, who assured them that only a little heap of rubble remained of it, and they agreed to follow him towards the cliffs, where, he said, they would see the seals playing in the surf a thousand feet below them. On their way thither they would meet the farmer in one of his fields, as likely as not; and they looked into many divided by stone walls with barbed wire on top. A defence against what? asked Percy as he descended a half-bank, half-wall, with a large rent in the seat of his breeches, which Mr. Williams assured him the farmer’s wife would be glad to put a stitch in when they returned, enough to take him home without indecency or ridicule up the long street of St. David’s. But if I get caught again, said Percy. You mustn’t do that, Mr. Williams replied, and he held the next barbed wire out of Percy’s way; and they continued to make their way through fields barely cultivated, with here a little corn and there some green stuff, cabbages or turnips, for feeding sheep. But where were the sheep? And whilst thinking of these they came upon a deserted bungalow, a handsome place, with carved chimney-pieces and, peeping through the bow windows, they listened to Mr. Williams extolling a scheme for the refurnishing of the bungalow, extending it a little, perhaps, with a view to the entertainment of paying guests, to which the farmer might or might not consent. We are nearing now, Mr. Williams said, the cliffs at the bottom of which we shall see the seals at play; and they came to a cliff of such great height that neither Percy nor Hugh dared to approach it lest their heads should whirl in a dizziness and they fall over. A drop of a thousand feet it must be to the beach, Hugh said, and to watch seals three hundred yards away we should need a glass.
Not having a glass it behoved them to turn back, and whilst Hugh was asking Mr. Williams to tell them of the hermitage and all he knew of the Saint and why the robber had murdered him, they were suddenly accosted by the farmer, who began to rate Mr. Williams soundly for taking visitors over his island without having had the courtesy to ask for permission to do so, saying: You know well enough that I never refuse; but before walking over a man’s land it is only polite to — These gentlemen, Mr. Williams began, but he did not get further than the word gentlemen, for the farmer broke in again and so fiercely that Mr. Williams turned to Hugh and said: Now, Mr. Monfert, will you tell Mr. Evans how it happened that he should find us here and not waiting at his house? It seemed to Hugh that it was not fair of Williams to throw the blame upon him in this way, if not the blame at least the task of explaining to this almost violent man why they had come upon the island; and so he shifted the blame back upon Mr.
Williams, saying that he and his friend had come over with him and that he thought Mr. Williams understood the manners of the island, what might be done and what should not be done, to which Mr. Evans listened, Hugh thought, sympathetically, certain that he was not mistaken when Mr. Evans began to tell that the island was to be sold and that he had no right to show anybody over it without an order from the solicitor. I have too much land as it is, Hugh said, to think of buying more; and at these words the farmer became affable, even friendly, and they talked together of how much money could be made out of the rabbits which were to be seen scampering in all directions. The cost of trapping rabbits and the exporting of them — the lack of a proper ferry boat, was related, as well as the price of sheep, which in the last year had fallen from five pounds a wether to three. And to remove any lingering suspicion adrift in Mr. Evans’s mind regarding Percy, Hugh referred to the taking of notes (Mr. Evans had used these words), and assured him that Percy had not put pencil to paper. We do draw, but we have not done any drawings and will not do any without your permission. What should we draw? Percy asked. Not seals, for we have seen none. And when Mr. Evans had talked of the caverns, into which, Mr. Williams said, he would have the pleasure of taking them, and of the young seals that might be caught if they wished to make a pet of one, the talk wandered back to the island, to the price that it would fetch at the auction, not more than three thousand pounds, perhaps not even that.
Now, Hugh, for two thousand five hundred you can have a place whither nobody can come to worry you, and you, Mr. Evans, would have the most indulgent landlord in Europe. And he, sir, would have the best tenant in Wales. On this expression of goodwill they became so friendly that Hugh was already beginning to hear his mother’s protest against the ownership of the island, and himself saying: But, mother, the island is bought; it is mine. The bungalow, you see, sir, is in good repair. You will have rabbit-shooting and the best in the world. What do you say, Percy, Hugh asked. Two thousand pounds, or two thousand five hundred, for a retreat from Wotton Hall.... Well, sir, a matter like this cannot be decided in a minute, and what I would say to you is this: if you have a liking for my island, stop here for a week to think it over. Mr. Williams will bring food, clothes, blankets, and a couple of mattresses from the village, and any other things you may want. But tonight? asked Hugh, amazed at the adventure in which he found himself. To-night, sir, you will have to sleep in my house or on the hillside. Why not on the hillside, interrupted Percy, to-night and every night we are here, if the weather remains as it is? But our dinner and breakfast? said Hugh. Oh, we will cook our own food in the bungalow, Percy replied; it will be mostly fish. Now, Hugh, what do you say? And Hugh, seeing that Percy was bent upon remaining on the island, could not bring himself to say: No. You must start now or remain for the night, said Mr. Williams, for such wind as there is is against us, and it will be only by steering the boat close under the cliffs that we shall get clear of the whirlpools raging in the Sound. And to double the ness from which we started, he continued, we shall have to row out very far indeed to sea. If we miss it — well, we shall have to return through the Sound and land you by the lighthouse pier. If you remain, we shall be back again in the morning with a stock of furniture, bedding, chairs and tables, frying-pans and cups and saucers, and a good hamper of food — marmalade and jam, bread and sausages, enough to las
t you a week, for you’ll be fishing and will catch enough for a change of diet. Let’s stay; it will be such fun, Percy whispered, and amazed at his own courage Hugh consented. Mr. Williams shook their hands, and soon after they saw the twain plying their oars, keeping close under the cliffs out of the sway of the current, and it was not till the boat passed out of sight and hearing that the lads ceased to wave their handkerchiefs, returning then to the stead, where they met a warm welcome, tea and griddle cakes, and where talk was prolonged till that gentle weariness, which comes of a long day spent in the open air stole over them, and their host said: You’re beginning to think of the blankets; these are what I have. And with these, Percy answered, we shall lie among the bracken cosy, like rabbits. Once more Evans and his wife protested that they had beds to offer them; Hugh might have accepted, for he doubted that sleep would come to him under the stars, and it was for Percy’s sake that he followed the farmer to a sheltered coign where the bracken grew thick and tall. Anon the stars came out large and plentiful, and they lay asking each other the names of the different planets and constellations till at last Hugh heard Percy breathing like one asleep. He is asleep, he said; I must not speak again lest I wake him. A long day awaits us; I too must sleep if I can.
His fear was, as has been said, that the stars would keep him awake. It is true that he could not sleep, but the stars were not to blame. He was kept awake by a feeling which had been growing deeper day by day ever since he started out on this excursion, a feeling that he was beginning to think was happiness. All he remembered was unhappiness, in his childhood with his mother at Wotton Hall, in his boyhood at Stanislaus College, where he could make no way with his lessons, and again at Wotton Hall when he found himself at variance with his mother. He had often asked whether his unhappiness was within or without himself, never finding an answer, for we cannot easily dissociate ourselves from the circumstances in which Fate has placed us. But now, in a sheltered coign of an almost desert island, among the bracken, it seemed as if he had come into the happiness that was his by right. A fish is happy in the water, a bird in the air, he said, and I have come into the circumstance in which I can be, perhaps, as happy as they. A sort of music seemed to fill him, a vague but intense emotion akin to music, and it was in this mood of rapture that he fell asleep. How long he had been asleep he could not tell, nor what had awakened him; but his sleep had been deep for his mind was a blank, and he sat up, frightened, trying to collect his thoughts, remembering very slowly that he was camping out with Percy on Ramsey Island. And whilst he watched a large star that purple and blue clouds swept over, leaving the star to shine as brilliantly as before, a cold, raw wind crept up from the ruffling sea, bringing with it a sleepy gull, just risen from a roost below. To resume his eternal fishing, Hugh said, and sank back among the bracken, eager to recapture sleep. It often seemed to him that he was on the verge of dropping off, but the illusory dimness cleared and anon he was wide awake, looking forward to the afternoon that he and Percy would spend together out in the bay fishing or visiting the great caverns they had heard of. The farmer in whose rugs he was lying returned to him and all the talk about the island, which he might buy for two thousand pounds, three at the most, and which would be a refuge always for him and Percy. But with the word refuge there came to him a feeling as uneasy as the wind that stirred in the clefts, and he cried: — Has that happiness which was once so real that I could hear it, almost see and touch it, gone? He tried to put back his thoughts, but thoughts will not he put back and very soon he was saying: I cannot abandon my mother, leaving her in Wotton Hall; she has been a good mother to me according to her lights; I must go back. And then all the misery began again, and feeling himself to be lonelier than the island he was upon, he cried: Why, why is my share of happiness so small? I ask for so little, and that little somehow is kept back. Again sleep fell upon him, but so lightly that he knew not whether he slept or waked, and then raising himself on his elbow he looked over the bracken to watch Percy sleeping. How calmly he sleeps, always sure of himself, he said; a painter priest, a Fra Angelico of our time. All things return to us; and he offered up a prayer that a great aspiration again catch flower in the Catholic Church.
His thoughts passed into reverie, almost into dreams, and his consciousness of himself was merged into mere sensation in the face of the brightened sky, the great star still blazing unquenched and the earth returning into shapes again of shore and cliff and field. Once more he looked over the ferns. Percy was still sleeping, and he began to think again of the young priest in Percy till a thought suddenly came, awakening him from his half-slumber. Why should not he, too, take Orders, thereby escaping from Wotton Hall and bringing twenty-five thousand a year to the Catholic Church to help religious art? Whosoever came forward with a statue or a picture, whosoever planned a New Church or a Cathedral, would be a beneficiary under his will. There was music too, the restoration of the Plain Song and the Polyphonic music of the sixteenth century. All these things he could do with his money; the money that he thought was but a hindrance would be — His thoughts again melted into reveries, from which he was startled by Percy calling to him. Would he tell Percy of the thoughts that had come to him between sleeping and waking? Yes; but he must wait for some quiet evening hour when the work of the day was done and Percy could give ear to his project to take Orders. It must remain a secret between them, and he asked himself if he could trust a chatterbox like Percy to keep a secret. Percy’s voice again interrupted his thoughts, and he answered him that they might expect the arrival of the boatmen in an hour or more. Let us go down to the landing-stage and wait for them, Percy said, and they went and sat in the glittering September morning watching the raging Sound and the pale, cloudless skies that had not changed for many weeks. No break in the weather will happen, Hugh thought, till we leave the island. Here come the boatmen, said Percy, bringing food and blankets, mattresses too, which we shall not need, for though the nights are warm the dews are heavy; among the bracken we shall be better in our blankets. Now come and let us help to drag the boat ashore. If he is not drawing he must be always doing something, Hugh said to himself, and they went down together to help the boatmen. And the morning passed away setting up their table and kitchen in the deserted bungalow. The boatmen were hired for attendance upon them all the day, and in the afternoon Mr. Williams proposed that they should visit the caves where the seals bred. No one has ever been through them, he said, and he warned Hugh of the roaring of the great bull seals at the approach of the boat, afraid lest they should be robbed of their young.
VII
The sun was setting amid cries of innumerable sea-fowl when they returned home under a great arch of sky, the sea extending like a mirror before them, with clusters of islands lying beyond Ramsey Island, some mere rocks, the roosts of sea-gulls, others let out to a few cottiers, those to the right belonging to — (Mr. Williams told the owner’s name) and those further away to — (an other owner was mentioned). And in answer to Percy, in whose imagination had risen a picture of life on those lonely island coasts, Hugh said: The folk are well enough in their islands, where they have pure air to breathe and the sea is at their doorways to feed them. If they migrated, which they do, unfortunately, to the mainland, they would drift into the slum of a large town, to fall to drinking, and — Hugh stopped abruptly, not liking to mention other sins that the folk might commit if they left their shores; but the sudden silence was not noticed by Percy, who seemed to have forgotten him. Of what are you thinking, Percy? Of the fisherman, Percy answered, we saw examining his nets, saying the seal had been through them. I was thinking of a shieling by the sea with two old fishermen in it mending their nets, unsuspicious of the value of the casket that the seal had no use for. Caskets, you see, Hugh, have come up from the sea many a time, and it seems to me that the incident might be the beginning of a story, one which I would like to illustrate with drawings. Let us think of what would happen to the happy fishermen. Hugh mentioned a number of events, but as none see
med to please Percy but those he invented himself, Hugh promised to give his mind to the task, and they returned up the steep path to watch the boatmen pulling at the oars in the midst of the boisterous Sound. It is seldom that a sailing ship ventures in that Sound, said Percy. A strong wind would be needed to make way against such a tide: six miles an hour, or eight is it? and that is why sails do not come this way, I suppose. But what a lovely evening! Words died on their lips and they stood at gaze before a glasslike sea scattered with dark islands, an almost cloudless arch of sky rising above them, and in their hearts a wonderment, almost a fear. Again they fell to talking of the baby seal they had stolen, of the fishing that awaited them, of the wild goats they had not yet seen, till the time came to lie down in the bracken and watch the day waning and the night descending, still and warm. It came with stars so beautiful that it seemed a pity to leave them, but sleep took them unawares, the night passing without their knowing it, and when they awoke there was no long waiting for the boatmen, who came and took them to the further side of the island, where they might bathe in safety so long as they did not venture far from the boat. A little adventure this bathing was, Percy going into the water from the bow of the boat, long, thin, and frail, and so beautiful in his slimness that Hugh bethought himself of some early Italian sculpture imbued with the Greek spirit, or a late Greek figure retaining some of the old Greek tradition, like the youth known as the Narcissus, advancing towards a pool of water to admire his beauty in it. And the bathing over, the nets were let down; the sails filled and the boat moved through the still water, making for the headland, it being the intention of the boatmen to fish round the western shore, bringing the boat up the Sound, not raising the nets till they reached their harbourage on the eastern side.
