Demelza (41 page)

At six three dragoons and a civilian rode down the narrow track of Nampara Combe. Nothing like it had ever been seen before.

Demelza was the first in the house to sight them and she flew into the parlour, where Ross was sitting thinking over his quarrel with Francis.

He said: 'No doubt they are making a social call.'

'But why come here, Ross, why come here? D'you think someone has told on us?'

He smiled. 'Go change your dress, my dear, and prepare to be the lady.'

She fled out, seeing through the half-open front door that the civilian was Constable Jenkins. Upstairs she hurriedly changed to the sound of clopping hooves and the distant rattle of accoutrements. She heard them knock and be shown in; then the faint murmur of voices. Anxiously she waited, knowing how gentle Ross could be or how much the opposite. But there was no uproar.

She turned her hair here and there with a comb and patted it into place. Then she peeped behind the curtain of the window, to see that only one of the soldiers had entered. The other two, in all the splendour of black and white busbies and red coats, waited with the horses.

As she went down and reached the door there was a sudden tremendous burst of laughter. Heartened, she went in.

'Oh, my dear, this is Captain McNeil of the Scots Greys. This is my wife.'

Captain McNeil looked enormous in his red and gold coat, dark gold-braided trousers and spurred shiny boots. On the table stood a huge busby and beside it a pair of yellow gauntlet gloves. He was a youngish man, plump, well groomed, with a great sandy moustache. He set down the glass he was holding and bowed over her hand military fashion. As he straightened up his keen brown eyes seemed to say: 'These outlandish country squires do themselves well with their womenfolk.'

'You know Constable Jenkins, I think.'

They waited until Demelza had taken a chair and then sat down again. 'Captain McNeil has been describing the amenities of our inns,' said Ross. 'He thinks the Cornish bugs have the liveliest appetite.'

The soldier gave a softer echo of his tremendous laugh. 'Nay, I wouldn't say so much as that. Perhaps it is only that there are more of 'em.'

'I have offered that he should come and stay with us,' said Ross. 'We are not rich in comfort but neither are we rich in crawlers.' (Demelza blushed slightly at Ross's use of her old word.)

'Thank ye. Thank ye kindly.' Captain McNeil twisted one end of his moustache as if it was a screw that must be fastened to his face. 'And for old times' sake I should be uncommon pleased to do so. It terrns out, mistress, that Captain Poldark and I were both in a summary affray on the James River in 'eighty-one. Old campaiguers together as ye might say. But though here I would be near the scene of the merrder, I'm much too far from the contraband we picked up this noon, and contraband was what I was sent into this part to find, ye see.' He chuckled.

'Indeed,' said Demelza. (She wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by a man with a moustache like that.)

'Hrr - hmm,' said Constable Jenkins diffidently. 'About this murder...'

'Och, yes. We mustn't forget…'

'Let me fill your glass,' Ross said.

'Thank ye. ... As I was explaining to your husband, mistress, this is but a routine inquiry, as I understand he was one of the airly finders of the body. Also it is said the wanted man has been seen in this neighbourhood...'

'Really,' said Demelza. 'I had not heard it.'

'Well, so the constable says.'

'It was rumoured so, ma'am,' Jenkins said hastily. 'We don't know where it come from.'

'So I made this call to see if ye could advise me. Captain Poldark has known the man since boyhood and I thought perhaps he would have some notion of where he might be lairking.'

'You might search for a year,' said Ross, 'and not exhaust all the rabbit holes. All the same I do not imagine Daniel will linger. I think he will make for Plymouth and join the Navy.'

Captain McNeil was watching him. 'Is he a good sailor?'

'I have no idea. Every man here has some of the sea in his blood.'

'Now tell me, Captain Poldark: are there overmany places on this coast where a boat may be launched?'

'What, a naval boat?'

'No, no, just a small boat which would be handled by one or two men.'

'In a flat sea there are half a hundred. In a steep sea there isn't one between Padstow and St Ann's.'

'And what would ye call the present?'

'To-day it is moderate, dropping a little, I fancy. It may be feasible to launch a boat from Sawle by tomorrow evening. Why do you ask?'

Captain McNeil screwed up his moustache. 'Are there overmany suitable boats about whereby a man could make his escape, d'you imagine?'

'Oh, I see your point. No, not that one man could handle.'

'Do ye know anyone with a suitable boat at all?'

'There are a few. I have one myself. It is kept in a cave in Nampara Cove.'

'Where d'you keep the oars, sur?' ventured Constable Jenkins.

Ross got up. 'Can I persuade you to stay to supper, gentlemen? I will give the order now.'

The blacksmith was a little nervous at this favour, but Captain McNeil rose and declined. 'One day I'll call again and we'll have a lively crack over old times. But I should appreciate the favour of being shown the cove and cliffs if ye can spare the time now. I have a notion that it would help me one way or another. If ye can shoot at two birds with the one ball as ye might say.

'Well, there is no hurry,' said Ross. 'Try this brandy first. I trust you will be able to tell from the flavour whether or not duty has been paid on it.'

The soldier broke into his great good-humoured laugh. They chatted a while longer and then the captain took his leave of Demelza. He clicked his heels and bowed low over her hand, so that the soft whiskers of his moustache tickled her fingers. For a second he looked at her with bold admiration in his brown eyes. Then he picked up his gloves and his great busby and clanked out.

When Ross came back from showing him the cove and cliffs Demelza said: 'Phew, I'm that glad it turned out that way. And you were so good. No one would have dreamed you knew anything. What a nice man. I should not mind so much being arrested by him.'

'Don't underrate him,' Ross said. 'He's a Scotsman.'

CHAPTYER EIGHT

HEAVY WINDLESS RAIN set in as night fell.

At ten, when the tide was nearly full, Ross went down to the cove and saw that the swell had dropped. There could not have been a more favourable night; the darkness was like extra eyelids squeezing away the thought of sight.

At midnight two men waited inside the roofless engine house of Wheal Grace. Paul Daniel, with an old felt hat, and a sack over his shoulder, Ross in a long black cloak that came to his ankles and made him look like a bat. Presently in the depths of the pit there flickered a light.

With the ceaseless drum of the rain in their ears, falling on their hats and bodies and on the long wet grass, they waited and watched.

As he neared the top the light went out. His head and shoulders showed above the rim on the shaft and he clambered out and sat a moment on his haunches. The rain drummed on the grass.

'I thought twas near morning,' he said. 'What of the tide?'

'It will do.'

They set off down the valley to the house.

'There's money in that mine,' said Mark. 'To keep from going off my head - I went all over.'

'Someday perhaps,' said Ross.

'Copper…I've never seen a more keenly lode. An' silver lead.'

'Where?'

'On the east face. Twill be underwater most times…'

The parlour light showed brightly, but Ross made a detour and came up against the library wall. Then he groped for the door and they were inside in the darkness. There was some scraping and then a candle burned in the far corner - in the corner where Keren had acted and danced.

A meal was set on a table.

Mark said: 'Tes dangering you needless.' But he ate rapidly while the other two kept watch.

With the lighted parlour as a decoy, Demelza was sitting in the darkness of the bedroom above keeping watch up the valley. After the visit of the soldier Ross was taking no chances.

Very soon Mark was done. He looked terrible tonight, for his strong beard was half an inch long and the heavy rain had washed streaks down the dirt of his face.

'There's this,' said Ross, putting forward a parcel of food, 'and this.' An old coat. 'It is the best we can do. You will need all your efforts to be out of sight of the land by morning, for there's no breeze to help you.'

Mark said: 'If thanks would bring things for ee… But listen…'

'Tell me on the way down.'

'I been thinking of my house, Reath Cottage, that I builded for she. You won't - you won't let it fall down?'

'No, Mark.'

'There's stuff in the garden. That's for you, Paul. It has yielded well.'

'I'll see for it,' said Paul.

'And,' said Mark, turning his eyes on Ross, 'and there's one thing else. It's... You'll see she's buried proper? Not in a pauper's grave… She was above that…

'I'll see to it,' Ross told him.

'There's money under the bed in the cottage. It'll be enough to pay... I'd like a stone…'

'Yes, Mark. We'll see it's done right.'

Mark picked up his things, the food, the coat.

'Keren on the stone,' he said indistinctly. 'She never liked Kerenhappuch. Keren Daniel. Just Keren Daniel…'

They set off for the cove. The rain had not put out the lights of the glowworms. The sea was quieter tonight, grumbling and hissing under the steady downpour. It was not quite so black here; the white fringe of surf was faintly phosphorescent, easing the night's dark weight. They left the stream and moved across the soft sand. They were within a few yards of the cove when Ross stopped. He put out a hand behind and drew Paul level.

'What is that?' he breathed.

Paul put down the mast and stared. He had very sharp eyes, well used to dark places. He bent a little and then straightened.

'A man.'

'A soldier,' said Ross. 'I heard the creak of his belt.' They squatted.

'I'd best go,' said Mark.

'Nay, I'll quiet him,' said Paul. 'They're soft enough under their tall hats.'

'No killing,' said Ross. 'I will do it…'

But the elder Daniel had gone. Ross crouched in the sand, pulling the mast towards him. Mark began to mutter under his breath. He would have given himself up. Ross thought: McNeil has strung his men out all along the cliffs. Shooting at two birds. This way he may either pull in the murderer or some free traders. But if he's watching all points between here and St Ann's his men will be widely spaced.

Creep forward.

A sudden sharp challenge. They rushed forward. The musket exploded, flat and loud, in the mouth of the cave. A figure sank on to the sand.

'All right,' said Paul, short of breath. 'But a damnation noise.'

'Quick, the boat!'

Into the cave; Ross flung in the mast and the sail; Mark groped for the oars.

'I'll get them; you launch her!'

The brothers began to slide the boat through the soft sand. Twice it stuck. Then they had to drag the stirring figure of the soldier aside. Ross came with the oars, thrust them in, put his weight to the boat and it went sliding down towards the sea.

The sound of boots striking rock somewhere, and shouts. Men were coming.

'This way!' shouted a voice. 'By the cave!'

Reached the sea. The fringe of surf might show them up.

'Get in!' Ross said through his teeth.

'Rullocks!' said Mark.

Ross took them from his pocket, passed them to Mark; one fell in the sand. They groped: found it: Mark was in: pushed off. A wave broke among them and swung the boat; nearly capsized; back in shallow water. Mark got the oars out.

'Now!'

The noise they were making. Men were running towards them. A musket was fired. Straighten up; waves were malevolent; shove again together! The boat suddenly came to life, floated off into the blackness. Paul fell on hands and knees in the surf, Ross caught his shoulders, hauled him to his feet. A figure came up and grasped his cloak. Ross ducked as a musket exploded in his ear. He knocked the soldier flat upon the sand. They ran along the beach. Figures were after them as they turned in towards the stream. Ross stopped short and hit at a figure running past him. The man rolled into the stream. Then he changed his course and began to climb up among the bracken that stood four feet high along the side of the combe. They could seek him all night here. Unless they could light a torch they were helpless.

He lay flat on his face for a few minutes gaining his breath, listening to men shouting and searching. Was Paul safe? He moved again. Another danger existed and must be met.

This way it was farther to Nampara. You climbed through the bracken until it gave way to open ground and patches of gorse, then you struck the west corner of the long field and, keeping in the ditch at the side of it, made your way down the hill to the back of the house.

This he did. The Gimletts had been in bed hours, so he slipped in through the kitchen, peeped into the parlour and blew the candles out, quickly mounted the stairs to his bedroom.

Demelza was by the north window but was across the room as soon as his footsteps creaked at the door.

'Are you safe?'

'Ssh! Don't wake Julia.' While he told her what had happened he was pulling off his long cloak, dragging his stock from his neck.

'Soldiers! Their…'

He sat down suddenly. 'Help me, my dear. They may call on us.' She fell on her knees and began to unlace the tall boots in the dark.

'I wonder who gave you away, Ross? Could it have been Dwight Enys?'

'Heavens, no! Sound reasoning on the part of the charming McNeil.'

'Oh, Ross, your hands!'

Ross stared closely at them. 'I must have cut the knuckles when I hit someone.' Then his fingers closed over Demelza's. 'You're trembling, child.'

'So would you be,' she said. 'I've been sitting up here alone in the dark; and then those shots…'