The Miller's Dance (22 page)

‘
I
doused meself wi' brandy,' said Stephen. 'When you have a flesh wound it is better to be in a drunken stupor than to stay feelingpain all night.'

'You snored, I know that. God, how you snored! Well, I finished your botde and still did not sleep. You see, I never was a pirate
, used to thrusting with his cutl
ass...'

'Hold your gab,' said Stephen.

'... and even then I felt more than a
little
miscomfortable about the prospect of pursuit. So when dawn came I got up and sat in a chair by the window. This looked out of the back on to the yard, where the coach was stationed that we were to join at eight. There were three coaches there, but I knew the
Self-Defence
we'd booked on by its gold trim. At seven the ostlers were out seeing to the horses. At seven-thirty the messengers came carrying two steel boxes. These were put into the safe box under the guard's seat and
p
adlocked in. After they'd got their receipt the messengers
l
eft and the coach was harnessed and driven round to the front door of the hotel for the passengers to begin boarding.' Jeremy said: 'What is especial about that?'

Paul grunted.
'Well, that's all it is, really.' Emma Hartnell came in.

'Like to wet the other eye, would ee? Come 'long, Mr Poldark, not keeping up wi' your friends, eh?'

Jeremy drained his mug. There we are. That satisfactory?'

She laughed and went out, the three glasses clinking. 'What do you suppose was in the boxes?' Stephen asked. 'Money, of course.' 'Why of course.'

'The shape and size of 'em. The way they were carried. And they were both marked
Devon & Cornwall Bank.'
'Did you see how far they came?' Truro.
’

'You never spoke of it at the t
ime.'

'Most of the journey I conjected that my head was about to lift off. It is only since I have been thinking back on it...'

'What for?' Jeremy asked ironically. 'Going to turn highwayman?'

Paul shrugged. 'Of course ... No, I was just surprised, that's all, thinking of all that money - and not in a mail coach either.'

'Why was it not being sent by mail coach?' Stephen asked.

That puzzled me at first. One of the two men who met the coach at Pearce's Hotel I know by sight. I've seen him in Warleggan's Bank. He's called Blencowe.'

'Well,' said Jeremy. 'Warleggan's Bank and the Devon & Cornwall Bank are now in partnership. It was in the paper last year. I expect now and then they send money back and forth. Though why by that coach ... I mean why by the
Self-Defence...'

'Ah,' said Paul, 'that is not so hard to explain. Warleggan's have put money into it. Didn't you know? Into the company, I mean. The
Self-Defence
and three other coaches were started a couple of years ago by Fagg, Whitmarsh, Fromont, Weakley & Co., but last November they ran into difficulties when the recession grew worse, and Warleggan's bailed them out. So all the Warleggans are doing is patronizing their own firm.'

‘
Well, I don't see much edge to your story,' said Stephen. 'Mail coach or private firm, there s surely little risk. Is that what you're thinking about, the risk? This is a law-abiding county, ain't it? Highwaymen keep to the prosperous lanes. And there were three men aboard: two coachmen and an armed guard! A light post coach no doubt travels faster than the mail coach - and by day at that.'

'All the same,' Paul said, 'to Hell with the Warleggans. It is since they breathed money into the concern that it has been undercutting us. You know the results. Or you do, Jeremy, for not long ago I told you of them. That line, that service, we abandoned in February.'

Emma came back, carrying the three glasses on a tray. The noise in the taproom had died down, and she looked as if she might be willing to stand and gossip; but seeing the preoccupation on the faces of the three young men she put the glasses down, winked cheerfully at Jeremy and went out again.

There was a pause while all of them drank deeply, and when conversation resumed it was about local matters.

But presently, almost absentl
y, Stephen said: 'Any idea how much cash there might be in the boxes?'

'On the coach, you mean? Oh ... some of it would probably be paper. As for the rest, it depends whether it was silver or gold, doesn't it. But the size of the boxes and the way the men were carrying them... It must have been an amount. One thousand, two thousand, who knows?'

Stephen whistled. 'Phew...'

‘I
t's no good, Stephen,' Jeremy said with bitter amusement. 'Don't forget you're marrying into a respectable family. You can't do any of this privateering on land, you know. Else you might find yourself accidentally swinging from a tree.'

'A risk he already runs,' Paul pointed out.

'And you. And you
,' said Stephen,
I
have read somewhere that it is the law that if one man commits a crime in the company of another, the other is held equal in blame.' He turned to Jeremy. 'You may have your jest, Rat's bane. All the same, if there was a way,
I
do not think I should turn it down out of a sense o' piety. Would you?
Would
you,
now. We could all do w
ith money. You've told me your
self-'

I
know what I've told you,' said Jeremy sharply, for he had not said anything to Paul about Cuby, lest he spread it to his sister.

‘
Well, then.'

‘
Well, then,' mocked Jeremy,
I
could do with money. But not on those terms.'

‘
Nay,
’
said Stephen. 'You're right. Not on those terms.'

'What terms?' asked Paul. 'D'you mean moral terms? Would you argue that taking money from a bank is as wicked as robbing widows and orphans?'

They both looked at him.

'No,' said Jeremy eventually. 'There may be many degrees of wrongdoing. But it doesn't make any of 'em right.'

The conversation from being barely more than casual had shifted its ground. More responsible than anything said was Paul's dark face.

'You'd do something if you
could?'
Jeremy asked incredulously, is that it, Paul? D'you mean it?'

I
don't
know.
Maybe. There's so much injustice in the world, inequality. Money is always in the wrong hands. Fortunately the opportunity does not arise. At least I suppose it is fortunate. I cannot pretend I would not be tempted.'

'Oh, so would I,' said Stephen. 'Two thousand pounds! For half that I could buy a privateer, equip her, crew her. There's so much to be picked up off the French coast. I know.'

Jeremy said: 'This whole discussion is witless ... Let's drink to some practical idea.'

'Amen,' said Stephen, leaning back with a sigh. 'You can set your mind at rest so far as one thing goes, Jeremy. I'll not turn highwayman. I might have done to gain Clowance. But that's all gained. I made a little money this month legitimate. There's naught illegal about buying and selling. I'm sorry about the pressgang, but who was to know that that would happen? Anything legitimate I'll be glad to try ...'

Paul took a long draught of his ale. 'Damme, one can't help wondering, though.' 'What?'

'Of course I agree with
Stephen. No black masks for me. But ideas, once they've started, they won't leave you alone.' 'What ideas?'

I
know coachmen. I've been dealing with them for years. I know how they like their liquor. Some of 'em can hardly sit their seats by the time the journey is half done. I can't help wondering, just wondering, if the coachmen and the guard of the
Self-Defence
ever get down together - at Torpoint, or at Liskeard, or at St. Austell. If they ever go in to the inn together. And if so, who guards the coach.

I

Ross left for London on May
23.
George Canning had written:

This has been a great tragedy. As you know, Perceval and I have for some time been estranged and I confess to have had bitter disagreements with his policy; but in truth he was a man with whom one could
not
be at variance
personally;
and our rivalry has been a rivalry of Circumstances which neither of us could command - certainly not one of choice, still less of enmity. His greatness lay perhaps not in his breadth of Mind but in his shining Integrity; and I doubt if any other politician of our generation would have been so sincerely mourned. Not one of the speakers, and I was among them, could give a dry utterance to our sentiments in the House the following day.

As you ma
y by now have heard, the grief o
f his colleagues has not been matched in the North. The starving Mobs everywhere have rejoiced at his death, blaming him for all the bitter Privations they have been suffering, and his Assassin is exalted as a hero. The drums and revolutionary flags have been out, and only a strong show of troops and militia can hope to prevent a general Rising.

In the same month, ignoring the advice of Cambaceres and Talleyrand that he should not fight
Russia while 'the Spanish Ulcer' was still festering, Napoleon Buonaparte turned his back on the smaller and unimportant problems provided by Wellington, and travelled to Dresden where, with Marie Louise, he held court and obtained the submission of the various kings and princes of Europe. Then with 600,000 men, he marched on Russia. Four weeks later, when he was approaching the River Niemen, the United States declared war on En
gland, not knowing that the British Government had
just revoked the Orders-in-Counci
l which provoked the war. After a pause to regroup, the French crossed the Niemen, and four days after that occupied Vilna, from which the Russians had already fled. How much further would they go?

Meanwhile the delicate.
contre-danse
in the English House of Commons was taking its course with due ceremony an
d total lack of urgency. The acti
ng Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, had got nowhere with all his days of negotiation and consultation, so after a defeat in the House he resigned, whereupon the
Prince Regent sent for Lord Well
esley. Wellington's elder brother had had the idea of inviting some of
the
simmering and disgruntled Whigs to join him in another 'Government of all the Talents', but since they were of the view that all the talents reposed in their own ranks and anyhow now thoroughly distrusted any administration which did not give them authority over the Prince, they refused. Then Lord Moira had a shot, with equal lack of success; though for a few brief days it looked as if he would succeed not only in forming a government but in offering-Canning a position in it that he considered worthy of his gifts.

But at the last all was frustration and failure again; and in weakly desperation the Regent invited Lord Liverpool back to try once more. The Lords Grey and Granville and other leading Whigs suspected this was not desperation at all but part of a wickedly calculated manoeuvre of the Prince's to get what he had really wanted all
the
time - a continuation of Perceval's ailing and ramshackle administration which would contrive to dodge the Catholic question and yet pursue
the
war with some show of vigour.

In the middle of all this consultation and hedging and backing Ross found himself more and more uncomfortable yet more and more involved.

It seems, love [he wrote to Demelza], I must always be making an excuse not to re
turn; yet it is no excuse, for I
truthfully feel I cannot desert George at this juncture. Now that he has failed to accept Liverpool's offer he justifies his refusal, in private, so endlessly that I perceive he is already regretting it. Much as I regard him, I confess an impatience with him now. Even the Prince Regent, who once so much disliked him, appealed to him to sink his differences with Castlereagh and others and accept Liverpool's offer - but all to no avail.

Well ... however long-winded, this is my Swan Song. I do not believe an Election can be long delayed when Parliament reassembles, and after that the great and the good George will see less of me, I swear, than the rich and wicked George spinning his webs in Cornwall.

I have seen the Prince a half-dozen times, and he is always very courteous to me, though I fear the one time we met last year I was not as courteous as I should have been to him. They say that after the accident to his Ankle while dancing he has had to take
250
drops of laudanum a day, and also hemlock, just to get three hours sleep!

I received Jeremy's letter last week reporting a failure to find any Quality Ore in Wheal Leisure. You must tell him - or leave him read this letter - that it is very Early Days as yet. I have known one mine near East Pool where the Venturers prospected for two years before they struck profitable ground. Of course we could not sustain that — and sometimes now I wonder whether my decision was wise to keep the majority of shares in the two families; it bears heavy, but you know my reason.

Time is racing on, and I h
ave already been away too long.
I hope Jeremy behaves in a sensible way in all things; and take care also, please, for yourself and your Third Man. I do not as you know wear my heart on my sleeve in family matters, and no doubt Compliments and Love Tokens from me have fallen upon you as thick as snowflakes in a hot summer; but all the same I charge you to be circumspect in all things regarding your general health and safety. Preferably do not climb trees - even little ones; do not attempt to carry the spinet under your arm; nor argue with the cows; nor fall off your horse; nor leap up the stairs more than four at a time. All these things are
Inadvisable.

In due
course I shall be with you. Unti
l then I subscribe myself your Ever Faithful if Frequently Absent, Husband.'

II

On a Thursday in July, Stephen, parting from Clowance as the short darkness began to fall, said he would see her on Saturday as usual. He had taken to riding, and on these long summer evenings there was nothing they enjoyed more than galloping across the beach to the Dark Cliffs and back. This could be at some tides a hazardo
us undertaking, and twice recentl
y they had had to dismount and lead their horses up across the sandhills and past Mingoose before they reached home.

'What of tomorrow?' Clowance said,
gently
stroking Nero's sweaty neck.

'Dearest, ye know we never meet on Fridays.'

'Tomorrow the tide will be just right. We can walk through it as it recedes and have a glorious gallop back.'

'Yes. Yes, I imagine. But twill be little different on Saturday.'

'We shall have to wait then for the tide to go.' '... We could leave an hour later.' She said: 'Are you going to see Violet?' Stephen's horse rattled its bridle and snorted. He said: 'Yes.'

‘
Why do you not miss it for a week?'

'She is mortal sick, Clowance.'

I
know. But she has been sick a long time. This Friday arrangement is claiming something she has no real right to. Go Sunday morning.'

'She will be expecting me tomorrow.'

'And that is 'more important than meeting me?'

'No. Of course not. But it has become a sort of-of a pact.'

'Do you think she has a right to any sort of pact?'

'Of a certainty not. But it is just that I have - promised -every Friday.'

Clowance sat her horse, fair hair blowing in the inevitable breeze.

'Then I will come with you.'

There was another silence. Stephen said: 'Dear heart, you should know what I feel about you. If you don't, I have been sadly lacking in conveying me feelings. But when I go see Violet Kellow it is - something different. Of course I don't
love
her. But it has been a sort of pretence - make believe -that I do. It is - a joke. She don't even believe it herself. But she pretends to believe it-just like I do. So we meet Fridays. I sit for an hour or so talking, holding her hand, cheering her up. She's a dear soul - in a brittle way. Soon she's going to break...'

Clowance said: 'So you will not allow me even to come with you - so that you can protest your undying devotion. I would clearly be in the way.'

Stephen hesitated. 'Yes, me dear, you would,' he said at length.

As she was about to turn her horse he caught at the bridle.. 'Clowance, show a mite of sense! Ye're too big a person to feel that way! Violet is mortal sick. It is not as if I was carrying on wi' some village girl, Beth Nanfan or the like. Even -'

'How do I know you're not?'

He stared at her. 'You trying to pick a fight with me, dear heart?'

'No, but I would like to see this straight. I would like —' 'No matter what ye'd like, ye'll never see it straight if you've no trust in me at all!' 'Well, there are still rumours enough.' 'Such as what, do you suppose?'

'You go to the kiddleys
-
especially Sally Chill-Off s. You go to the Nanfans'. It seems to me you go anywhere there's a chance of a village girl.'

She tried to get her bridle free but he held it very firm. Nero rolled his eyes and snorted and was not happy with this restraint from outside. Stephen's horse was also trying to back away.

Stephen said: 'Listen to me: I don't go back on friends, whoever they may be! Nanfans was very kind to me while I lived with 'em, and still are. Beth's a nice pretty girl and I like her. But
so do I like Will and Char, her father and mother. D'you think they'd be friends along of me if I was carrying on with their daughter while being promised to you? And as for Sally's... there's folk in there I've come to know over mis last year or so - including old Tholly, who's a rogue if ever there was one; but he was a friend of your
grand father's
Never stops talking of the Old Cap'n, as he calls him. Regular devil he must've been.'

Nero, either prompted or on his own initiative, tossed up his head and nearly unseated Stephen, who lost his hold. But Clowance could see his face in the half dark.

'Specially with women,' he said. 'Your grandfather was a devil with women, according to old Tholly. No woman was safe, Tholly said. There was so many wronged husbands, it's a blamed wonder old Joshua ever died in his bed. That's what Tholly says.'

Clowance's temper flared,
I
don't know what Tholly says and I don't care! If my grandfather was a devil with women and you seem so much to admire him, perhaps you had better go follow his example!'

She dug her heels into Nero and galloped through the gate towards the stables. Stephen began to follow her, and called her name but she would not look back. As Matthew Mark Martin came running out to help her dismount Stephen cursed under his breath and turned his horse away. He began to make his way up the track past Mellin Cottages to his lonely home at the Gatehouse.

III

When he reached Fernmore the following evening he wondered if this weekly visit was really worth a row with Clowance. Yet he was angry and resentful towards her for what he saw as her arrogance, and his resentment was the greater for still feeling, in spite of the engagement, a niggling sense of inferiority which was an insult to his manhood. All the same, were the Kellows
that
important to him? Daisy anyway was in Truro today visiting her aunt, Mrs Choake; Paul was in Falmouth with his father; and Mrs Kellow only waited to see him upstairs before asking if Stephen would 'see to' Violet for a few minutes while she called on Mrs Odgers, the parson's wife. Although no one could be more devoted to Violet than her mother, she clearly saw Stephen as a regular and reliable visitor whose arrival was a chance for taking a welcome break.

However, Violet was the main object of his call. He went up the stairs, and Violet was looking better. Last week she had looked sick to death, but she was lively today, better coloured, and the sore on her mouth had disappeared. It crossed Stephen's mind that perhaps Clowance was not altogether mistaken in supposing that Violet had been - and by implication would be - sick a long time.

Yet once they got talking together he perceived that Violet's cheerfulness was surface-rooted.

It began with the usual banter. 'Stephen, my pet, we are alone at last! You have come to claim your rights as a bridegroom!'

'That's for sure, old darling.' He kissed her.
I
told your mother not to come back for two hours. That should be long enough, shouldn't it? Shall I draw the curtains?'

‘
Please.
’

He laughed and held her hand. 'You look five times the girl you was last week. Been taking your turnip broth regular? Before I know where I am we shall be walking the beach together!'

She shook her head. 'You know that could .never happen now. You've sold your soul to another. However much