by Bram Stoker
The Coming of Abel Behenna
The little Cornish port of Pencastle was bright in the early April,when the sun had seemingly come to stay after a long and bitterwinter. Boldly and blackly the rock stood out against a background ofshaded blue, where the sky fading into mist met the far horizon. Thesea was of true Cornish hue--sapphire, save where it became deepemerald green in the fathomless depths under the cliffs, where theseal caves opened their grim jaws. On the slopes the grass was parchedand brown. The spikes of furze bushes were ashy grey, but the goldenyellow of their flowers streamed along the hillside, dipping out inlines as the rock cropped up, and lessening into patches and dots tillfinally it died away all together where the sea winds swept round thejutting cliffs and cut short the vegetation as though with anever-working aerial shears. The whole hillside, with its body of brownand flashes of yellow, was just like a colossal yellow-hammer.
The little harbour opened from the sea between towering cliffs, andbehind a lonely rock, pierced with many caves and blow-holes throughwhich the sea in storm time sent its thunderous voice, together with afountain of drifting spume. Hence, it wound westwards in a serpentinecourse, guarded at its entrance by two little curving piers to leftand right. These were roughly built of dark slates placed endways andheld together with great beams bound with iron bands. Thence, itflowed up the rocky bed of the stream whose winter torrents had of oldcut out its way amongst the hills. This stream was deep at first, withhere and there, where it widened, patches of broken rock exposed atlow water, full of holes where crabs and lobsters were to be found atthe ebb of the tide. From amongst the rocks rose sturdy posts, usedfor warping in the little coasting vessels which frequented the port.Higher up, the stream still flowed deeply, for the tide ran farinland, but always calmly for all the force of the wildest storm wasbroken below. Some quarter mile inland the stream was deep at highwater, but at low tide there were at each side patches of the samebroken rock as lower down, through the chinks of which the sweet waterof the natural stream trickled and murmured after the tide had ebbedaway. Here, too, rose mooring posts for the fishermen's boats. Ateither side of the river was a row of cottages down almost on thelevel of high tide. They were pretty cottages, strongly and snuglybuilt, with trim narrow gardens in front, full of old-fashionedplants, flowering currants, coloured primroses, wallflower, andstonecrop. Over the fronts of many of them climbed clematis andwisteria. The window sides and door posts of all were as white assnow, and the little pathway to each was paved with light colouredstones. At some of the doors were tiny porches, whilst at others wererustic seats cut from tree trunks or from old barrels; in nearly everycase the window ledges were filled with boxes or pots of flowers orfoliage plants.
Two men lived in cottages exactly opposite each other across thestream. Two men, both young, both good-looking, both prosperous, andwho had been companions and rivals from their boyhood. Abel Behennawas dark with the gypsy darkness which the Phoenician mining wanderersleft in their track; Eric Sanson--which the local antiquarian said wasa corruption of Sagamanson--was fair, with the ruddy hue which markedthe path of the wild Norseman. These two seemed to have singled outeach other from the very beginning to work and strive together, tofight for each other and to stand back to back in all endeavours. Theyhad now put the coping-stone on their Temple of Unity by falling inlove with the same girl. Sarah Trefusis was certainly the prettiestgirl in Pencastle, and there was many a young man who would gladlyhave tried his fortune with her, but that there were two to contendagainst, and each of these the strongest and most resolute man in theport--except the other. The average young man thought that this wasvery hard, and on account of it bore no good will to either of thethree principals: whilst the average young woman who had, lest worseshould befall, to put up with the grumbling of her sweetheart, and thesense of being only second best which it implied, did not either, besure, regard Sarah with friendly eye. Thus it came, in the course of ayear or so, for rustic courtship is a slow process, that the two menand woman found themselves thrown much together. They were allsatisfied, so it did not matter, and Sarah, who was vain and somethingfrivolous, took care to have her revenge on both men and women in aquiet way. When a young woman in her 'walking out' can only boast onenot-quite-satisfied young man, it is no particular pleasure to her tosee her escort cast sheep's eyes at a better-looking girl supported bytwo devoted swains.
At length there came a time which Sarah dreaded, and which she hadtried to keep distant--the time when she had to make her choicebetween the two men. She liked them both, and, indeed, either of themmight have satisfied the ideas of even a more exacting girl. But hermind was so constituted that she thought more of what she might lose,than of what she might gain; and whenever she thought she had made upher mind she became instantly assailed with doubts as to the wisdom ofher choice. Always the man whom she had presumably lost became endowedafresh with a newer and more bountiful crop of advantages than hadever arisen from the possibility of his acceptance. She promised eachman that on her birthday she would give him his answer, and that day,the 11th of April, had now arrived. The promises had been given singlyand confidentially, but each was given to a man who was not likely toforget. Early in the morning she found both men hovering round herdoor. Neither had taken the other into his confidence, and each wassimply seeking an early opportunity of getting his answer, andadvancing his suit if necessary. Damon, as a rule, does not takePythias with him when making a proposal; and in the heart of each manhis own affairs had a claim far above any requirements of friendship.So, throughout the day, they kept seeing each other out. The positionwas doubtless somewhat embarrassing to Sarah, and though thesatisfaction of her vanity that she should be thus adored was verypleasing, yet there were moments when she was annoyed with both menfor being so persistent. Her only consolation at such moments was thatshe saw, through the elaborate smiles of the other girls when inpassing they noticed her door thus doubly guarded, the jealousy whichfilled their hearts. Sarah's mother was a person of commonplace andsordid ideas, and, seeing all along the state of affairs, her oneintention, persistently expressed to her daughter in the plainestwords, was to so arrange matters that Sarah should get all that waspossible out of both men. With this purpose she had cunningly keptherself as far as possible in the background in the matter of herdaughter's wooings, and watched in silence. At first Sarah had beenindignant with her for her sordid views; but, as usual, her weaknature gave way before persistence, and she had now got to the stageof acceptance. She was not surprised when her mother whispered to herin the little yard behind the house:--
'Go up the hillside for a while; I want to talk to these two. They'reboth red-hot for ye, and now's the time to get things fixed!' Sarahbegan a feeble remonstrance, but her mother cut her short.
'I tell ye, girl, that my mind is made up! Both these men want ye, andonly one can have ye, but before ye choose it'll be so arranged thatye'll have all that both have got! Don't argy, child! Go up thehillside, and when ye come back I'll have it fixed--I see a way quiteeasy!' So Sarah went up the hillside through the narrow paths betweenthe golden furze, and Mrs. Trefusis joined the two men in theliving-room of the little house.
She opened the attack with the desperate courage which is in allmothers when they think for their children, howsoever mean thethoughts may be.
'Ye two men, ye're both in love with my Sarah!'
Their bashful silence gave consent to the barefaced proposition. Shewent on.
'Neither of ye has much!' Again they tacitly acquiesced in the softimpeachment.
'I don't know that either of ye could keep a wife!' Though neithersaid a word their looks and bearing expressed distinct dissent. Mrs.Trefusis went on:
'But if ye'd put what ye both have together ye'd make a comfortablehome for one of ye--and Sarah!' She eyed the men keenly, with hercunning eyes half shut, as she spoke; then satisfied from her scrutinythat the idea was accepted she went on quickly, as if to preventargument:
'The girl likes ye both, and mayhap it's
hard for her to choose. Whydon't ye toss up for her? First put your money together--ye've eachgot a bit put by, I know. Let the lucky man take the lot and tradewith it a bit, and then come home and marry her. Neither of ye'safraid, I suppose! And neither of ye'll say that he won't do that muchfor the girl that ye both say ye love!'
Abel broke the silence:
'It don't seem the square thing to toss for the girl! She wouldn'tlike it herself, and it doesn't seem--seem respectful like to her--'Eric interrupted. He was conscious that his chance was not so good asAbel's in case Sarah should wish to choose between them:
'Are ye afraid of the hazard?'
'Not me!' said Abel, boldly. Mrs. Trefusis, seeing that her idea wasbeginning to work, followed up the advantage.
'It is settled that ye put yer money together to make a home for her,whether ye toss for her or leave it for her to choose?'
'Yes,' said Eric quickly, and Abel agreed with equal sturdiness. Mrs.Trefusis' little cunning eyes twinkled. She heard Sarah's step in theyard, and said:
'Well! here she comes, and I leave it to her.' And she went out.
During her brief walk on the hillside Sarah had been trying to make upher mind. She was feeling almost angry with both men for being thecause of her difficulty, and as she came into the room said shortly:
'I want to have a word with you both--come to the Flagstaff Rock,where we can be alone.' She took her hat and went out of the house upthe winding path to the steep rock crowned with a high flagstaff,where once the wreckers' fire basket used to burn. This was the rockwhich formed the northern jaw of the little harbour. There was onlyroom on the path for two abreast, and it marked the state of thingspretty well when, by a sort of implied arrangement, Sarah went first,and the two men followed, walking abreast and keeping step. By thistime, each man's heart was boiling with jealousy. When they came tothe top of the rock, Sarah stood against the flagstaff, and the twoyoung men stood opposite her. She had chosen her position withknowledge and intention, for there was no room for anyone to standbeside her. They were all silent for a while; then Sarah began tolaugh and said:--
'I promised the both of you to give you an answer to-day. I've beenthinking and thinking and thinking, till I began to get angry with youboth for plaguing me so; and even now I don't seem any nearer thanever I was to making up my mind.' Eric said suddenly:
'Let us toss for it, lass!' Sarah showed no indignation whatever atthe proposition; her mother's eternal suggestion had schooled her tothe acceptance of something of the kind, and her weak nature made iteasy to her to grasp at any way out of the difficulty. She stood withdowncast eyes idly picking at the sleeve of her dress, seeming tohave tacitly acquiesced in the proposal. Both men instinctivelyrealising this pulled each a coin from his pocket, spun it in the air,and dropped his other hand over the palm on which it lay. For a fewseconds they remained thus, all silent; then Abel, who was the morethoughtful of the men, spoke:
'Sarah! is this good?' As he spoke he removed the upper hand from thecoin and placed the latter back in his pocket. Sarah was nettled.
'Good or bad, it's good enough for me! Take it or leave it as youlike,' she said, to which he replied quickly:
'Nay lass! Aught that concerns you is good enow for me. I did butthink of you lest you might have pain or disappointment hereafter. Ifyou love Eric better nor me, in God's name say so, and I think I'm manenow to stand aside. Likewise, if I'm the one, don't make us bothmiserable for life!' Face to face with a difficulty, Sarah's weaknature proclaimed itself; she put her hands before her face and beganto cry, saying--
'It was my mother. She keeps telling me!' The silence which followedwas broken by Eric, who said hotly to Abel:
'Let the lass alone, can't you? If she wants to choose this way, lether. It's good enough for me--and for you, too! She's said it now, andmust abide by it!' Hereupon Sarah turned upon him in sudden fury, andcried:
'Hold your tongue! what is it to you, at any rate?' and she resumedher crying. Eric was so flabbergasted that he had not a word to say,but stood looking particularly foolish, with his mouth open and hishands held out with the coin still between them. All were silent tillSarah, taking her hands from her face laughed hysterically and said:
'As you two can't make up your minds, I'm going home!' and she turnedto go.
'Stop,' said Abel, in an authoritative voice. 'Eric, you hold thecoin, and I'll cry. Now, before we settle it, let us clearlyunderstand: the man who wins takes all the money that we both havegot, brings it to Bristol and ships on a voyage and trades with it.Then he comes back and marries Sarah, and they two keep all, whateverthere may be, as the result of the trading. Is this what weunderstand?'
'Yes,' said Eric.
'I'll marry him on my next birthday,' said Sarah. Having said it theintolerably mercenary spirit of her action seemed to strike her, andimpulsively she turned away with a bright blush. Fire seemed tosparkle in the eyes of both men. Said Eric: 'A year so be! The manthat wins is to have one year.'
'Toss!' cried Abel, and the coin spun in the air. Eric caught it, andagain held it between his outstretched hands.
'Heads!' cried Abel, a pallor sweeping over his face as he spoke. Ashe leaned forward to look Sarah leaned forward too, and their headsalmost touched. He could feel her hair blowing on his cheek, and itthrilled through him like fire. Eric lifted his upper hand; the coinlay with its head up. Abel stepped forward and took Sarah in his arms.With a curse Eric hurled the coin far into the sea. Then he leanedagainst the flagstaff and scowled at the others with his hands thrustdeep into his pockets. Abel whispered wild words of passion anddelight into Sarah's ears, and as she listened she began to believethat fortune had rightly interpreted the wishes of her secret heart,and that she loved Abel best.
Presently Abel looked up and caught sight of Eric's face as the lastray of sunset struck it. The red light intensified the naturalruddiness of his complexion, and he looked as though he were steepedin blood. Abel did not mind his scowl, for now that his own heart wasat rest he could feel unalloyed pity for his friend. He stepped overmeaning to comfort him, and held out his hand, saying:
'It was my chance, old lad. Don't grudge it me. I'll try to make Saraha happy woman, and you shall be a brother to us both!'
'Brother be damned!' was all the answer Eric made, as he turned away.When he had gone a few steps down the rocky path he turned and cameback. Standing before Abel and Sarah, who had their arms round eachother, he said:
'You have a year. Make the most of it! And be sure you're in time toclaim your wife! Be back to have your banns up in time to be marriedon the 11th April. If you're not, I tell you I shall have my banns up,and you may get back too late.'
'What do you mean, Eric? You are mad!'
'No more mad than you are, Abel Behenna. You go, that's your chance! Istay, that's mine! I don't mean to let the grass grow under my feet.Sarah cared no more for you than for me five minutes ago, and she maycome back to that five minutes after you're gone! You won by a pointonly--the game may change.'
'The game won't change!' said Abel shortly. 'Sarah, you'll be true tome? You won't marry till I return?'
'For a year!' added Eric, quickly, 'that's the bargain.'
'I promise for the year,' said Sarah. A dark look came over Abel'sface, and he was about to speak, but he mastered himself and smiled.
'I mustn't be too hard or get angry tonight! Come, Eric! we played andfought together. I won fairly. I played fairly all the game of ourwooing! You know that as well as I do; and now when I am going away, Ishall look to my old and true comrade to help me when I am gone!'
'I'll help you none,' said Eric, 'so help me God!'
'It was God helped me,' said Abel simply.
'Then let Him go on helping you,' said Eric angrily. 'The Devil isgood enough for me!' and without another word he rushed down the steeppath and disappeared behind the rocks.
When he had gone Abel hoped for some tender passage with Sarah, butthe first remark she made chilled him.
&n
bsp; 'How lonely it all seems without Eric!' and this note sounded till hehad left her at home--and after.
Early on the next morning Abel heard a noise at his door, and on goingout saw Eric walking rapidly away: a small canvas bag full of gold andsilver lay on the threshold; on a small slip of paper pinned to it waswritten:
'Take the money and go. I stay. God for you! The Devil for me!Remember the 11th of April.--ERIC SANSON.' That afternoon Abel wentoff to Bristol, and a week later sailed on the _Star of the Sea_ boundfor Pahang. His money--including that which had been Eric's--was onboard in the shape of a venture of cheap toys. He had been advised bya shrewd old mariner of Bristol whom he knew, and who knew the ways ofthe Chersonese, who predicted that every penny invested would bereturned with a shilling to boot.
As the year wore on Sarah became more and more disturbed in her mind.Eric was always at hand to make love to her in his own persistent,masterful manner, and to this she did not object. Only one letter camefrom Abel, to say that his venture had proved successful, and that hehad sent some two hundred pounds to the bank at Bristol, and wastrading with fifty pounds still remaining in goods for China, whitherthe _Star of the Sea_ was bound and whence she would return toBristol. He suggested that Eric's share of the venture should bereturned to him with his share of the profits. This proposition wastreated with anger by Eric, and as simply childish by Sarah's mother.
More than six months had since then elapsed, but no other letter hadcome, and Eric's hopes which had been dashed down by the letter fromPahang, began to rise again. He perpetually assailed Sarah with an'if!' If Abel did not return, would she then marry him? If the 11thApril went by without Abel being in the port, would she give him over?If Abel had taken his fortune, and married another girl on the head ofit, would she marry him, Eric, as soon as the truth were known? And soon in an endless variety of possibilities. The power of the strongwill and the determined purpose over the woman's weaker nature becamein time manifest. Sarah began to lose her faith in Abel and to regardEric as a possible husband; and a possible husband is in a woman's eyedifferent to all other men. A new affection for him began to arise inher breast, and the daily familiarities of permitted courtshipfurthered the growing affection. Sarah began to regard Abel as rathera rock in the road of her life, and had it not been for her mother'sconstantly reminding her of the good fortune already laid by in theBristol Bank she would have tried to have shut her eyes altogether tothe fact of Abel's existence.
The 11th April was Saturday, so that in order to have the marriage onthat day it would be necessary that the banns should be called onSunday, 22nd March. From the beginning of that month Eric keptperpetually on the subject of Abel's absence, and his outspokenopinion that the latter was either dead or married began to become areality to the woman's mind. As the first half of the month wore onEric became more jubilant, and after church on the 15th he took Sarahfor a walk to the Flagstaff Rock. There he asserted himself strongly:
'I told Abel, and you too, that if he was not here to put up his bannsin time for the eleventh, I would put up mine for the twelfth. Now thetime has come when I mean to do it. He hasn't kept his word'--hereSarah struck in out of her weakness and indecision:
'He hasn't broken it yet!' Eric ground his teeth with anger.
'If you mean to stick up for him,' he said, as he smote his handssavagely on the flagstaff, which sent forth a shivering murmur, 'welland good. I'll keep my part of the bargain. On Sunday I shall givenotice of the banns, and you can deny them in the church if you will.If Abel is in Pencastle on the eleventh, he can have them cancelled,and his own put up; but till then, I take my course, and woe to anyonewho stands in my way!' With that he flung himself down the rockypathway, and Sarah could not but admire his Viking strength andspirit, as, crossing the hill, he strode away along the cliffs towardsBude.
During the week no news was heard of Abel, and on Saturday Eric gavenotice of the banns of marriage between himself and Sarah Trefusis.The clergyman would have remonstrated with him, for although nothingformal had been told to the neighbours, it had been understood sinceAbel's departure that on his return he was to marry Sarah; but Ericwould not discuss the question.
'It is a painful subject, sir,' he said with a firmness which theparson, who was a very young man, could not but be swayed by. 'Surelythere is nothing against Sarah or me. Why should there be any bonesmade about the matter?' The parson said no more, and on the next dayhe read out the banns for the first time amidst an audible buzz fromthe congregation. Sarah was present, contrary to custom, and thoughshe blushed furiously enjoyed her triumph over the other girls whosebanns had not yet come. Before the week was over she began to make herwedding dress. Eric used to come and look at her at work and the sightthrilled through him. He used to say all sorts of pretty things to herat such times, and there were to both delicious moments oflove-making.
The banns were read a second time on the 29th, and Eric's hope grewmore and more fixed though there were to him moments of acute despairwhen he realised that the cup of happiness might be dashed from hislips at any moment, right up to the last. At such times he was full ofpassion--desperate and remorseless--and he ground his teeth andclenched his hands in a wild way as though some taint of the oldBerserker fury of his ancestors still lingered in his blood. On theThursday of that week he looked in on Sarah and found her, amid aflood of sunshine, putting finishing touches to her white weddinggown. His own heart was full of gaiety, and the sight of the woman whowas so soon to be his own so occupied, filled him with a joyunspeakable, and he felt faint with languorous ecstasy. Bending overhe kissed Sarah on the mouth, and then whispered in her rosy ear--
'Your wedding dress, Sarah! And for me!' As he drew back to admire hershe looked up saucily, and said to him--
'Perhaps not for you. There is more than a week yet for Abel!' andthen cried out in dismay, for with a wild gesture and a fierce oathEric dashed out of the house, banging the door behind him. Theincident disturbed Sarah more than she could have thought possible,for it awoke all her fears and doubts and indecision afresh. She crieda little, and put by her dress, and to soothe herself went out to sitfor a while on the summit of the Flagstaff Rock. When she arrived shefound there a little group anxiously discussing the weather. The seawas calm and the sun bright, but across the sea were strange lines ofdarkness and light, and close in to shore the rocks were fringed withfoam, which spread out in great white curves and circles as thecurrents drifted. The wind had backed, and came in sharp, cold puffs.The blow-hole, which ran under the Flagstaff Rock, from the rocky baywithout to the harbour within, was booming at intervals, and theseagulls were screaming ceaselessly as they wheeled about the entranceof the port.
'It looks bad,' she heard an old fisherman say to the coastguard. 'Iseen it just like this once before, when the East Indiaman_Coromandel_ went to pieces in Dizzard Bay!' Sarah did not wait tohear more. She was of a timid nature where danger was concerned, andcould not bear to hear of wrecks and disasters. She went home andresumed the completion of her dress, secretly determined to appeaseEric when she should meet him with a sweet apology--and to take theearliest opportunity of being even with him after her marriage. Theold fisherman's weather prophecy was justified. That night at dusk awild storm came on. The sea rose and lashed the western coasts fromSkye to Scilly and left a tale of disaster everywhere. The sailors andfishermen of Pencastle all turned out on the rocks and cliffs andwatched eagerly. Presently, by a flash of lightning, a 'ketch' wasseen drifting under only a jib about half-a-mile outside the port. Alleyes and all glasses were concentrated on her, waiting for the nextflash, and when it came a chorus went up that it was the _LovelyAlice_, trading between Bristol and Penzance, and touching at all thelittle ports between. 'God help them!' said the harbour-master, 'fornothing in this world can save them when they are between Bude andTintagel and the wind on shore!' The coastguards exerted themselves,and, aided by brave hearts and willing hands, they brought the rocketapparatus up on the summit of the Flagstaff Rock. Then they bur
nedblue lights so that those on board might see the harbour opening incase they could make any effort to reach it. They worked gallantlyenough on board; but no skill or strength of man could avail. Beforemany minutes were over the _Lovely Alice_ rushed to her doom on thegreat island rock that guarded the mouth of the port. The screams ofthose on board were faintly borne on the tempest as they flungthemselves into the sea in a last chance for life. The blue lightswere kept burning, and eager eyes peered into the depths of the watersin case any face could be seen; and ropes were held ready to fling outin aid. But never a face was seen, and the willing arms rested idle.Eric was there amongst his fellows. His old Icelandic origin wasnever more apparent than in that wild hour. He took a rope, andshouted in the ear of the harbour-master:
'I shall go down on the rock over the seal cave. The tide is runningup, and someone may drift in there!'
'Keep back, man!' came the answer. 'Are you mad? One slip on that rockand you are lost: and no man could keep his feet in the dark on such aplace in such a tempest!'
'Not a bit,' came the reply. 'You remember how Abel Behenna saved methere on a night like this when my boat went on the Gull Rock. Hedragged me up from the deep water in the seal cave, and now someonemay drift in there again as I did,' and he was gone into the darkness.The projecting rock hid the light on the Flagstaff Rock, but he knewhis way too well to miss it. His boldness and sureness of footstanding to him, he shortly stood on the great round-topped rock cutaway beneath by the action of the waves over the entrance of the sealcave, where the water was fathomless. There he stood in comparativesafety, for the concave shape of the rock beat back the waves withtheir own force, and though the water below him seemed to boil like aseething cauldron, just beyond the spot there was a space of almostcalm. The rock, too, seemed here to shut off the sound of the gale,and he listened as well as watched. As he stood there ready, with hiscoil of rope poised to throw, he thought he heard below him, justbeyond the whirl of the water, a faint, despairing cry. He echoed itwith a shout that rang into the night. Then he waited for the flash oflightning, and as it passed flung his rope out into the darkness wherehe had seen a face rising through the swirl of the foam. The rope wascaught, for he felt a pull on it, and he shouted again in his mightyvoice:
'Tie it round your waist, and I shall pull you up.' Then when he feltthat it was fast he moved along the rock to the far side of the seacave, where the deep water was something stiller, and where he couldget foothold secure enough to drag the rescued man on the overhangingrock. He began to pull, and shortly he knew from the rope taken inthat the man he was now rescuing must soon be close to the top of therock. He steadied himself for a moment, and drew a long breath, thathe might at the next effort complete the rescue. He had just bent hisback to the work when a flash of lightning revealed to each other thetwo men--the rescuer and the rescued.
Eric Sanson and Abel Behenna were face to face--and none knew of themeeting save themselves; and God.
On the instant a wave of passion swept through Eric's heart. All hishopes were shattered, and with the hatred of Cain his eyes looked out.He saw in the instant of recognition the joy in Abel's face that hiswas the hand to succour him, and this intensified his hate. Whilst thepassion was on him he started back, and the rope ran out between hishands. His moment of hate was followed by an impulse of his bettermanhood, but it was too late.
Before he could recover himself, Abel encumbered with the rope thatshould have aided him, was plunged with a despairing cry back into thedarkness of the devouring sea.
Then, feeling all the madness and the doom of Cain upon him, Ericrushed back over the rocks, heedless of the danger and eager only forone thing--to be amongst other people whose living noises would shutout that last cry which seemed to ring still in his ears. When heregained the Flagstaff Rock the men surrounded him, and through thefury of the storm he heard the harbour-master say:--
'We feared you were lost when we heard a cry! How white you are! Whereis your rope? Was there anyone drifted in?'
'No one,' he shouted in answer, for he felt that he could neverexplain that he had let his old comrade slip back into the sea, and atthe very place and under the very circumstances in which that comradehad saved his own life. He hoped by one bold lie to set the matter atrest for ever. There was no one to bear witness--and if he should haveto carry that still white face in his eyes and that despairing cry inhis ears for evermore--at least none should know of it. 'No one,' hecried, more loudly still. 'I slipped on the rock, and the rope fellinto the sea!' So saying he left them, and, rushing down the steeppath, gained his own cottage and locked himself within.
The remainder of that night he passed lying on his bed--dressed andmotionless--staring upwards, and seeming to see through the darkness apale face gleaming wet in the lightning, with its glad recognitionturning to ghastly despair, and to hear a cry which never ceased toecho in his soul.
In the morning the storm was over and all was smiling again, exceptthat the sea was still boisterous with its unspent fury. Great piecesof wreck drifted into the port, and the sea around the island rock wasstrewn with others. Two bodies also drifted into the harbour--one themaster of the wrecked ketch, the other a strange seaman whom no oneknew.
Sarah saw nothing of Eric till the evening, and then he only lookedin for a minute. He did not come into the house, but simply put hishead in through the open window.
'Well, Sarah,' he called out in a loud voice, though to her it did notring truly, 'is the wedding dress done? Sunday week, mind! Sundayweek!'
Sarah was glad to have the reconciliation so easy; but, womanlike,when she saw the storm was over and her own fears groundless, she atonce repeated the cause of offence.
'Sunday so be it,' she said without looking up, 'if Abel isn't thereon Saturday!' Then she looked up saucily, though her heart was full offear of another outburst on the part of her impetuous lover. But thewindow was empty; Eric had taken himself off, and with a pout sheresumed her work. She saw Eric no more till Sunday afternoon, afterthe banns had been called the third time, when he came up to herbefore all the people with an air of proprietorship which half-pleasedand half-annoyed her.
'Not yet, mister!' she said, pushing him away, as the other girlsgiggled. 'Wait till Sunday next, if you please--the day afterSaturday!' she added, looking at him saucily. The girls giggled again,and the young men guffawed. They thought it was the snub that touchedhim so that he became as white as a sheet as he turned away. ButSarah, who knew more than they did, laughed, for she saw triumphthrough the spasm of pain that overspread his face.
The week passed uneventfully; however, as Saturday drew nigh Sarah hadoccasional moments of anxiety, and as to Eric he went about atnight-time like a man possessed. He restrained himself when otherswere by, but now and again he went down amongst the rocks and cavesand shouted aloud. This seemed to relieve him somewhat, and he wasbetter able to restrain himself for some time after. All Saturday hestayed in his own house and never left it. As he was to be married onthe morrow, the neighbours thought it was shyness on his part, and didnot trouble or notice him. Only once was he disturbed, and that waswhen the chief boatman came to him and sat down, and after a pausesaid:
'Eric, I was over in Bristol yesterday. I was in the ropemaker'sgetting a coil to replace the one you lost the night of the storm, andthere I saw Michael Heavens of this place, who is a salesman there. Hetold me that Abel Behenna had come home the week ere last on the _Starof the Sea_ from Canton, and that he had lodged a sight of money inthe Bristol Bank in the name of Sarah Behenna. He told Michael sohimself--and that he had taken passage on the _Lovely Alice_ toPencastle. 'Bear up, man,' for Eric had with a groan dropped his headon his knees, with his face between his hands. 'He was your oldcomrade, I know, but you couldn't help him. He must have gone downwith the rest that awful night. I thought I'd better tell you, lest itmight come some other way, and you might keep Sarah Trefusis frombeing frightened. They were good friends once, and women take thesethings to heart. It would not do to
let her be pained with such athing on her wedding day!' Then he rose and went away, leaving Ericstill sitting disconsolately with his head on his knees.
'Poor fellow!' murmured the chief boatman to himself; 'he takes it toheart. Well, well! right enough! They were true comrades once, andAbel saved him!'
The afternoon of that day, when the children had left school, theystrayed as usual on half-holidays along' the quay and the paths by thecliffs. Presently some of them came running in a state of greatexcitement to the harbour, where a few men were unloading a coalketch, and a great many were superintending the operation. One of thechildren called out:
'There is a porpoise in the harbour mouth! We saw it come through theblow-hole! It had a long tail, and was deep under the water!'
'It was no porpoise,' said another; 'it was a seal; but it had a longtail! It came out of the seal cave!' The other children bore varioustestimony, but on two points they were unanimous--it, whatever 'it'was, had come through the blow-hole deep under the water, and had along, thin tail--a tail so long that they could not see the end of it.There was much unmerciful chaffing of the children by the men on thispoint, but as it was evident that they had seen something, quite anumber of persons, young and old, male and female, went along the highpaths on either side of the harbour mouth to catch a glimpse of thisnew addition to the fauna of the sea, a long-tailed porpoise or seal.The tide was now coming in. There was a slight breeze, and the surfaceof the water was rippled so that it was only at moments that anyonecould see clearly into the deep water. After a spell of watching awoman called out that she saw something moving up the channel, justbelow where she was standing. There was a stampede to the spot, but bythe time the crowd had gathered the breeze had freshened, and it wasimpossible to see with any distinctness below the surface of thewater. On being questioned the woman described what she had seen, butin such an incoherent way that the whole thing was put down as aneffect of imagination; had it not been for the children's report shewould not have been credited at all. Her semi-hysterical statementthat what she saw was 'like a pig with the entrails out' was onlythought anything of by an old coastguard, who shook his head but didnot make any remark. For the remainder of the daylight this man wasseen always on the bank, looking into the water, but always withdisappointment manifest on his face.
Eric arose early on the next morning--he had not slept all night, andit was a relief to him to move about in the light. He shaved himselfwith a hand that did not tremble, and dressed himself in his weddingclothes. There was a haggard look on his face, and he seemed as thoughhe had grown years older in the last few days. Still there was a wild,uneasy light of triumph in his eyes, and he kept murmuring to himselfover and over again:
'This is my wedding-day! Abel cannot claim her now--living ordead!--living or dead! Living or dead!' He sat in his arm-chair,waiting with an uncanny quietness for the church hour to arrive. Whenthe bell began to ring he arose and passed out of his house, closingthe door behind him. He looked at the river and saw the tide had justturned. In the church he sat with Sarah and her mother, holdingSarah's hand tightly in his all the time, as though he feared to loseher. When the service was over they stood up together, and weremarried in the presence of the entire congregation; for no one leftthe church. Both made the responses clearly--Eric's being even on thedefiant side. When the wedding was over Sarah took her husband's arm,and they walked away together, the boys and younger girls being cuffedby their elders into a decorous behaviour, for they would fain havefollowed close behind their heels.
The way from the church led down to the back of Eric's cottage, anarrow passage being between it and that of his next neighbour. Whenthe bridal couple had passed through this the remainder of thecongregation, who had followed them at a little distance, werestartled by a long, shrill scream from the bride. They rushed throughthe passage and found her on the bank with wild eyes, pointing to theriver bed opposite Eric Sanson's door.
The falling tide had deposited there the body of Abel Behenna starkupon the broken rocks. The rope trailing from its waist had beentwisted by the current round the mooring post, and had held it backwhilst the tide had ebbed away from it. The right elbow had fallen ina chink in the rock, leaving the hand outstretched toward Sarah, withthe open palm upward as though it were extended to receive hers, thepale drooping fingers open to the clasp.
All that happened afterwards was never quite known to Sarah Sanson.Whenever she would try to recollect there would become a buzzing inher ears and a dimness in her eyes, and all would pass away. The onlything that she could remember of it all--and this she neverforgot--was Eric's breathing heavily, with his face whiter than thatof the dead man, as he muttered under his breath:
'Devil's help! Devil's faith! Devil's price!'
