A Shadow's Bliss

by Patricia Veryan

  The dearest voice in the world… she had come to him!… Why hadn't Falcon and Morris kept her away? This monster would be as like to order her death as his own! Trying to see clearly, aware that the cruel hands had eased somewhat, Jonathan peered about. She stood facing that angry mob, straight and tall and proud, her face smeared with mud, her garments torn, her hair hanging in wet clumps, yet beautiful still in the flickering glow of the flames.

  The crowd had quieted. Someone exclaimed, "She's here! Miss Jennifer's safe!"

  She cried ringingly, "I'm safe because Jack saved me from—"

  Green bellowed, "She's bewitched!"

  Wally Pughill shouted, "She's been ill-wished!"

  "The woman's possessed," howled Silas.

  Jennifer stretched out her hands. "Don't listen to them. Lord Green does not mean to restore the mine, but—"

  "She wants to stop me restoring the mine," roared Green. "She wants to deny you all the chance for a decent life again! She's as evil as he is! To the fire with both of 'em!"

  But he had reckoned without the loyalty of Cornish folk to their own. He offered hope to those who had lost all hope, but it was a hope they'd not seize at such a cost. This was the gentle lady who had brought them jellies and broths when sickness came, whose kindness was legendary, who had tried to teach their children. Muttering, they drew back.

  Jonathan shouted, "Miss Jennifer speaks truth. Let me up!"

  Green blustered and threatened, but Pughill was silent now, and Blary allowed Jonathan to get to his feet. He cried unevenly, "There's no… tin in the mine! Green has brought his own men to—"

  "Enough!" boomed his lordship, and with a wave of his arm brought his own men to move eagerly towards Jonathan.

  A woman screamed, "Look! See there! The Lady! 'Tis the Lady!"

  All heads turned. And there, on the very edge of the cliff some half mile northward, stood a tall graceful figure lit by an eerie glow, and wearing a hooded blue cloak.

  Cries of fear and dismay rang out. Cold fingers crept down Jonathan's spine as he blinked at that distant unearthly figure. Jennifer slipped to his side. He put his good arm around her and edged back from the flames as a wild confusion erupted. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. Panicked villagers crossed themselves and sank to their knees; boys raced about wildly, suddenly discovering an urgent need for the protection of their fathers; the mercenaries, bewildered, strove to control the crowd; his lordship, momentarily stunned and having his fair share of superstition, gawked at the distant Lady, his unlovely jaw sagging.

  Jonathan drew his love back and back, urging her to run. His own effort was at best a halting stagger. Her arm tight about him, she said, "My darling, you're hurt! You can't get far!"

  "I've a chance now, thanks to you," he gasped. "Go on—I'll catch up."

  "You waste your breath. Come, try harder!"

  Green's bellow came to them. "Find them! A hundred guineas to the ones that catch them!"

  "That stupid hundred guineas," Jonathan muttered, and he pleaded, "I'll hide here. You fetch Falcon and Morris—they're—"

  Her eyes were clearer than his now. She said, "Too late, dear. He has called down more men. They're all about the village. I can see their torches far past Bridget Bay."

  He groaned his helplessness, then tensed as Holsworth's voice hissed, "Jack! Over here, man!"

  Together, they tottered to the door of the cottage. Holsworth ushered them inside, a blunderbuss hooked over his right arm, and his hook restored to his left. With a keen look at Jonathan, he said, "Brandy, Widder. He's far spent."

  Mrs. Newlyn, white-faced and trembling, hurried to them. Despite himself a cry escaped Jonathan as she took his arm. She ran for the brandy, and said, distressed, "My poor Jack, who came so bravely to rescue me. The arm's broke, Noah."

  Apprehensive, Jennifer exclaimed, "Oh, no! Are you sure?"

  Holsworth pulled up a chair and pushed Jonathan into it. "Never be pitying him, Miss Jennifer. Had he not charged Green, like a fool, he might have got clean away!"

  Gasping to the bite of the potent brandy, Jonathan said, "It was—worth it! I knocked out one of the brute's fangs!"

  "For which ye're now more crippled than me, when your lady needs all your strength!"

  "No, pray don't scold him, Mr. Holsworth," said Jennifer. "I'd not have him changed one whit."

  Jonathan said fervently, "You're the bravest girl in the whole world. But—oh, my dear, how I wish you'd not come."

  Mrs. Newlyn called from the window, "They're almost here, Noah!"

  Jonathan dragged himself to his feet. "Have you any weapons for me?"

  "Never mind that. With luck and the grace of God, ye'll not need 'em. Come!" Holsworth led them into his seldom used front parlour, pulled back the threadbare rug in front of the fireplace, inserted his hook into a decorative brass ring on the fender that edged the hearth, and tugged mightily. The entire outer area of the hearth folded back against the grate, disclosing narrow steps leading down into a cellar.

  Handing a candlestick to Jennifer, Holsworth waved them down. Jonathan lifted his left arm, and sweating with pain guided the useless hand into the front of his coat, then followed the ladies. It was a spacious cellar, full of barrels and kegs that were stacked neatly around the walls.

  "I should have guessed!" muttered Jonathan.

  Holsworth was lowering the trap, and arranging the rug carefully as it closed. "We'll hope they think I'm a poor housekeeper," he grunted.

  "What you are," Jonathan accused softly, "is a confounded free-trader! I wondered how you were able to live so well and buy all your supplies and tools."

  Unrepentant, the big man said with a grin, "Aye, well the Trade has been good to—"

  Jennifer gestured urgently, and blew out the candle. Scarcely daring to breathe, they waited. Jennifer stood very close to Jonathan, and his good arm went around her.

  There came the crash of the front door being kicked in, much shouting and thumping about of boots, glassware and china being smashed.

  "Your lovely French chiney," whispered the widow sadly.

  "May they rot!" growled Holsworth. Jonathan prayed that Green not decide to burn the cot-

  A loud voice said, "Il n'y a personne!"

  Mrs. Newlyn whispered, "What'd he say?"

  "There's nobody in," translated Jennifer.

  An exultant shout announced that the bottle of brandy had been discovered. In no time they were quarrelling over it. The beleaguered little group strained their ears, and heaved a collective sigh of relief when the boots went stamping off.

  After a period of quiet, Holsworth crept up the steps, and raised the trap very slowly. "They've gone!"

  They climbed into the shambles left by the mercenaries. Jonathan crossed to the front door and opened it a crack. He could hear angry voices from the village. The torches were moving from house to house. Slipping into the night, he saw a line of flickering lights at regular intervals, ringing the village from north to south and blocking off the path that led down to the beach.

  Borne on the rising wind came Green's familiar bellow. "Someone here is hiding them! Speak up, or we'll burn your damned village, a house at a time!"

  It was the thing Jonathan had feared. He went quickly back inside. "You heard?"

  Noah said, "Aye. We're fairly trapped. The cellar won't save us if they burn the house down."

  The widow said in a quavering voice, "Might we not creep out the back and up to the moors?"

  "I'm afraid they expect that," said Jonathan. "They've ringed the village with men and torches. We'd not get a mile. Our only hope is to make our way to the beach."

  "D'ye mean to fight our way through to the path?" asked Holsworth. "Small chance, Jack, but—" He ran to the window as screams pierced the night. Peering out, he exclaimed, "Lord above! There's three cottages ablaze! All right, let's try for the steps!"

  Jonathan said curtly, "Pointless. We'd never reach the… We must go down the cliff." He heard their
shocked gasps and went on, " 'Tis a desperate chance, and we'll likely all be killed. But if we stay here, we'll die by fire."

  Holsworth stammered, "Are ye gone d-demented? I couldn't climb down that stone face! How on earth can you expect the ladies to attempt such a feat?"

  "We're not going to climb. We're going to ride your ark down, Noah."

  Silence.

  He thought, "They think I'm really crazy,' and went on, "I know it sounds mad, but I saw it done once in India. There's mud everywhere; exceeding slippery mud. And the storm has torn away a section of the cliff under the waterfall. If we can push the ark that far, she might slide down."

  Holsworth exclaimed indignantly, "And break all our necks!"

  "Very well. Show me a better way."

  Gripping her hands nervously, Jennifer said, "I'd sooner take the chance than die here."

  "S-so would I," gulped the widow.

  Holsworth argued, "But—they'll see us!"

  "The men in Roselley may not," said Jonathan. "They'll be dazzled by their fires. The guards around the village likely will, but they'll take a few minutes to get here through the mud, and by that time, God willing…"

  A minute later they were all out in the windy darkness. To the south, the sky pulsed red with leaping flames, the glow illumining the enraged and heartsick villagers who were held at bay by the blunderbusses and muskets of Green's hirelings.

  His lordship's bellow reached them. "They're in that stupid schoolhouse, I'll wager! Fire it next!"

  Jonathan murmured, "Thank heaven we put her up on the platform, Noah! Let's see if the wheels will turn in this muck."

  Hampered by his injured arm, he managed to push at the platform, while Noah hauled the thick ropes at the bow, but although both men strove with all their might, the ark moved not an inch. Jennifer and Mrs. Newlyn ran to help. From the corner of his eye, Jonathan saw several distant torches begin to wave frantically. Gritting his teeth, he exerted every ounce of his strength, and heard Jennifer's gasping little grunts as she strove beside him.

  And then, with a sudden lurch, the ark was moving.

  "Alleluia!" gasped Jonathan, and as a gust staggered them, added, "Oh, for a sail!"

  But they had no need of a sail. Once started, the wheels turned fairly easily, and the unwieldy ark bumped and swayed and moved towards the break in the cliff down which the little stream still flowed.

  A howl rang out behind them, followed by the crack of a musket.

  "We're seen!" panted Holsworth.

  "Out—of range," gasped Jonathan. "Pull, Noah!"

  And after a second, "She's sloping down," Holsworth screamed. "Get in quick, or she'll go over without us!"

  Jonathan all but thrust Jennifer into the teetering ark. Holsworth ran to assist Mrs. Newlyn, and Jonathan handed her up, gave her plump derriere an unceremonious shove, then clambered in after her.

  The ark lurched, tilted, and left the platform behind. Noah's hook shot over the side. Jonathan grabbed his arm and heaved, and head-first the big man tumbled in. The ark slid and bumped and skidded down the shallow track the water had worn year after year in its journey to the beach. The occupants were tossed about helplessly. Jonathan fought to protect Jennifer, and she clung to him, trying to shield him also.

  It sounded as if the ark was being battered to pieces. Expecting it to turn over at any second, or to crash against some outcropping and hurl them all to their deaths, Jonathan had the sudden eerie sense that they were no longer in contact with a solid surface, but flying through the air. The next instant they crashed down again with a force that sent them all tumbling. Jennifer was torn from his grasp. He heard her scream, and then he was hurled against the side and into forgetfulness.

  Chapter 15

  Something was tickling Jennifer's cheek. She thought it should be removed, and heard her name spoken in a prayerful sob. It came to her that she lay with her head in Johnny's lap, and she enquired with mild indignation, "Why do you allow a little crab to walk about on my face?"

  "Thank heaven!" he gulped, sending the small crab about its business. "I have never been… so afraid! My—Jennifer, I—I cannot lift you. Are you much hurt?"

  She considered that, and replied that she was sure she must be one large bruise. Full awareness returned then, and she sat up and looked about her. They were on the beach, the ark lying on its side, battered, but far from demolished. Awed, she said, "We are alive? I cannot believe it! My poor dear—how is your arm?"

  He was sure it was damaged beyond repair, but said in a steadier voice that it was not as bad as he'd expected.

  Holsworth hurried to them, the widow on his arm. Peering at Jonathan, he thrust a flask at him. "Take a good swig, Jack. Ye likely have the need." His voice was muffled, and he was limping markedly. He told them he'd suffered a broken nose and a wrenched knee, Mrs. Newlyn was obviously much shaken, and said she was sore all over, but insisted she had taken no serious hurt, and was only grateful that they all were alive.

  "If we hope to stay alive," said Jonathan, feeling stronger as he returned the flask, "we must get on!"

  Holsworth explained as they hobbled along the beach that they'd been so fortunate as to end their journey in a tidal pool. "I think you won't recall, Johnny, but the ark ploughed through the water which eased our—er, arrival before she foundered." Glancing back at the wreckage, he sighed. "She was a good ship, Johnny man!"

  "Good!" said Jonathan. "She was superb! I can scarce believe she… still…" He gave a gasp and stopped speaking, his eyes very wide as he gazed at the tall cloaked figure that was moving toward them.

  Holsworth whipped his head around, yelped, and crossed himself. Jennifer uttered a faint shocked cry, and the widow started babbling muddled incantations.

  A familiar voice drawled, "There's nought like an impressive entrance."

  Incredulous, Jonathan exclaimed, "Falcon? How—on earth… 7'

  Morris came up. "Who's dead?"

  Falcon said, "Impossible as it seems, I think they survived their suicidal jaunt. Did you find a boat?"

  "There's one tied up at the dock," Morris answered. 'The tide's going out, but we'll be able to use it, if we hasten."

  The battered little group hastened as best they might, and Falcon said, "I hope you can row, Armitage. Be damned if I can."

  Jennifer said, "His arm's broken."

  "Poor planning," sighed Falcon.

  The irrepressible Morris suggested, "We could ask dear old Hibbard. D'you suppose—?"

  They all laughed, and nobody mentioned the line of torches moving rapidly along the top of the cliffs towards the castle steps, or the second line to the south of them where Green's bullies were coming down the cliff path.

  Later, Jonathan had no very clear recollection of their journey, save for the peculiar circumstance of the moon shining up at him. He realised after a puzzled interval that the moonlight was reflecting in the tidal pools. This seemed hilarious, and his arm wasn't so horribly painful now. 'I must,' he thought contentedly, 'be very drunk.'

  They were on the dock, and then he was sitting in a large rowing boat beside Joe Taylor. Morris was at one oar, and Falcon's unorthodox valet, Tummet, had materialised from somewhere and was manning the other.

  Jonathan crooned softly,

  "Oh, when I was a sailor,

  a sailor, a sailor.

  Oh when I was a sailor

  A jolly life had we!

  What with rum at sea

  And gin on the shore

  Little cared I

  If I seldom had—"

  A hand was clapped over his mouth.

  Morris gave a snort of mirth.

  Falcon said sternly, "He's properly lushy! You were fools to fill him with brandy."

  Holsworth said, "If ye'd seen his arm—"

  From out of the darkness a voice hailed: "Wie is daar?"

  Morris whispered, "Save us all! Dutch now!"

  Falcon dashed an icy wet handkerchief at Jonathan's face and shouted, "Captain
Jonathan Armitage of His Majesty's Royal Navy, and troops following. Prepare for boarding party!"

  Jonathan shook the cobwebs from his brain and heard someone exclaim a dismayed "Maledictions!" followed by a flurry of agitated chatter.

  Falcon hissed, "Are you sober, Armitage? You'll have to bluff this."

  "I'm—almos' sober," said Jonathan, striving. "Has anyone a letter? A notice? Something written?"

  They came alongside to the accompaniment of a good deal of commotion aboard the vessel.

  Falcon handed him a folded paper. "I've this letter is all."

  "It'll have to—serve. With luck they cannot read English."

  Jennifer said softly, "They do not lower a ladder."

  "And I'm not waiting," said Morris. "Row along to the anchor chain."

  The boat slid along. When the anchor was reached, Holsworth took the oar, and Morris seized the chain and was up it, hand over hand.

  On the ship, a man was howling for the sails officer to come and deal with "some pig of an English officer, with his men most fast coming!"

  Falcon followed Morris and seconds later a rope ladder was slung over the side.

  Morris grinned down at them and called cheerfully, "All aboard!"

  Tummet helped Jonathan to the rungs. "You'd best go first, sir."

  The climb was another challenge, but he was over the rail at last, and facing a small Frenchman who came running while pulling on a coat and with a stocking cap all askew on his mop of dark hair.

  "You—off my capitaine's vessel will go!" he screamed, his face red with anger. "Where your uniform is? You 'ave ze look of ze officer naval—jamais! Depart!"

  "Silence!" Jonathan thrust Falcon's letter at him, and by the light of the lamp which a very dishevelled and unshaven sailor brought, he saw it was the note that had been in Falcon's book at Breton Ridge. "As you see," he said in the loud voice of authority, " 'Tis an order demanding instant cooperation of all ship's masters sailing British waters. You will note the royal signature—'G'."

  The international crew members peered uneasily at the letter. Behind them, Morris grinned broadly. Very conscious of the torches and muffled shouts that drew ever nearer, Jonathan noted that Taylor was aboard, leaning against the rail, and that Jennifer was helping Mrs. Newlyn, with Tummet following, carrying the birdcage.