Jeremy Poldark (19 page)

Later that night a coach drew up outside the
largest of the town houses in Princes Street, Truro, and a chilled and yawning
postilion got down to open the carriage door for George Warleggan. George got
out, ignoring, his servants, and walked slowly up the steps. Finding the door bolted;
he pulled irritably at the bell. Another sleepy footman let him in, took his
hat and cloak and stared after him as he mounted the handsome staircase. There
was no look of sleep in George's eyes.

At the top of the first, flight he hesitated,
saw a light under his uncle's door, and went across. Cary was in a shabby old
dressing gown and a nightcap but was working over his accounts by the light of
two candles. When he saw who had come in he took off his steel spectacles and
put down his pen. Then he blew out one of the candles, since less light would
be needed for talking

"We expected you yesterday. Did you have to
lie there the night?"

"The trial did not come on until today -
and was not over until four.' Then one had to eat."

Cary breathed through, his nose and eyed George.
"I should have stayed another night.' A wonder you did not break your
axles in the dark or flounder in a bog."

We did once, but came out with some effort. I
was not prepared to spend another night in a dirty noisy inn, with indifferent
service and no curtains to the bed" George went over to a decanter on the
table and poured himself a drink. He sipped it, aware that Cary was still
watching him.

"Well," said Cary, "I assume you
are not here at this time of night for the pleasure of my company?"

He got off," George said; "the
accursed ignorant jury disregarded all the evidence and found him not guilty
because they liked the colour of his eyes."

“On all counts?"

“On all counts. So the judge gave him a lecture,
telling him to be a good boy in future, and then he was discharged."

Cary sat perfectly still. His little brown
bright eyes were fixed on the single unwavering candle flame." “Was it not
even suggested that he had murdered Matthew? I tell you, that should have been
the charge!"

“And I tell you, my dear uncle, it would not
have held for a moment. Matthew was found drowned. There was not an atom of
proof and we could not have manufactured it. As it was, the evidence we tried
to strengthen in our own way was of little value. Some of it, even, was of
advantage to the other side.'That man Paynter. I must see Garth in the
morning...."

"And what of the other things" said Cary.
" His misdeeds in the past It is little more than twelve months. since he
broke in Launceston gaol and took out a prisoner - and nothing done about it.
And then soon after he was helping that murderer Daniel to escape. Does all
that count for nothing?"

George took his glass over to a chair and sat
down. He studied the colour of the wine. The law, as you should know deals in
one thing at a time. It also deals only in past convictions, not past
suspicions. The judge had the facts before him, but he had no chance of using
them. We are thwarted, dear Cary, and must accept our defeat." It was as if
George was salving his own frustration by taunting the other man.

There was a rap at the door and Nicholas Warleggan
came in. He was more properly ready for the night, in a flowing gown and a
black skullcap.

Well, Father," said George in ironical
surprise," I thought you were at Cardew."

Your mother went alone. I heard the carriage
stop. Well, what was the result?"'

"He was acquitted of all charges and now no
doubt is back at Nampara sleeping the sleep of a free man."

"The man responsible for Matthew's
disgrace," Cary said,”and later for his death.”

Nicholas Warleggan glanced sharply at his
brother. "There is always the danger of a suspicion becoming an obsession.
To George he said "So your efforts have been useless. I have been most
uncomfortable about it all through."

George still twirled his glass round by its
'stem. "Your conscience gets ever more restive on our account. My dear
uncle, why do you buy cheap wine? I call that economy very unsuitable.

"It is perfectly palatable to me,"
said Cary. "If you do not like it; you need not drink it."

George glanced at his father. "What have we
done but exert pressure which would assist the law? Of course we shall drop it,
for there is nothing more to do. Is there, Cary?"

"I shall not relax my efforts in any
way," said Cary, scarcely opening his mouth. " Poldark is in deep
water financially. We can yet see him in prison or drive him out of the
county."

"In other words," said George, "
there are more ways than one of killing a cat. You cannot blame us, Father, if
we take an interest in his mine."

“I have no objection whatever to any proper
business move," said Nicholas, padding across the room. "'I have no
love for any of the Poldarks - arrogant, overbred, indolent squireens. If you
can purchase the outside shares in his mine, by all means do so: it is one of
the most profitable for its size in the county. But retain a sense of
proportion. In a few years, George, with my prestige and your ability we shall
be in a position where the Poldarks will not be worth our notice - they are not
in fact even now. It's not becoming to our position or dignity this feud "

“You have no thought for Matthew," said
Cary sharply.

“No, in that respect I have not. He was morally
at fault and brought his troubles on himself."

“Did you see Pearce yesterday?" asked.
George.

Cary sniffed. "Yes. He says Mrs. Jacqueline
Trenwith is not prepared at present to dispose of the shares. I don't like
Pearce. He quibbles. He thinks he can run with the hare and hunt with the
hounds.”

" We can cure him of that. His convictions
wear away very easily. Sit down, Father; you walk about as if the house were on
fire."

No, I'll go to bed," said Nicholas. "I
must rise early in the morning."

"While I was in Bodmin," George said,
"I also had a brush with Francis Poldark. We chanced to meet, and he being
then sober but anxious to amend the condition, I invited him to an inn where we
drank together. But once in the inn he grew offensive and tried to pick a
quarrel with me."

"What did he say?"

"He accused me quite openly of being behind
this charge against his cousin, of trying to ruin his family in any underhand
way I could, of behaving in the ill-bred manner he would expect of the grandson
of a blacksmith - who still lived in, a hovel near St. Day because the family
of Warleggan was ashamed to own him."

There was silence in the room except for Cary's
breathing. Nicholas Warleggan's neck had gone a dull red.

Cary said: "And you sat there and allowed
that to pass?"

George looked at his hands. "With these I
could have broken his back. But I've had better things to do with my life than
learning to be a pistol shot, and I had no intention, of allowing a weakling
like Francis to dictate my behaviour."

"Quite right," muttered Nicholas.
" It was the only way to act. But I'm perplexed that he should have done
this. Only last year he was at bitter loggerheads with his cousin ..."

"That, I think, is what troubles him,"
George said pleasantly. "It doesn't lie easy on his conscience."

"And how did you leave him?" said
Cary. " In polite enmity."

Cary made an angry gesture, shutting one of his
account books with a snap. “All his finances, are in our hands. We can break
him: tomorrow financially, which is the better way. .."

George hunched his shoulders. " No.... We.
can't do that. At least not so obviously. For the moment I intend to make no
move at all."

"Why not? You care nothing now for his good
will." "Not his good will," said George, getting up. "But
there is another person to consider."

Ac the autumn lengthened and winter came in Ross
made a determined effort to set aside the troubles and anxieties that were pact
and accept in earnest the life of a small farmer squire with a mining interest
the life he had abandoned with regret only two years ago. But although he had
left the happy routine with reluctance, he couldn't recapture, the pleasure by
simple means of a return to it.

Also some chill had come upon his relations with
Demelza. Her thoughts were not as open to him. Dating strangely from his
acquittal, the laughter had gone, and the instant understanding. He tried more
than once to break down this new reserve but failed, and the failure left its
mark on his own responses.

Although he was thankful enough to be free of
the menace of the assizes, the lesser but still serious danger of his own approaching
bankruptcy kept him company most days. Even a sale of all his shares in Wheal
Leisure would not balance his debt. A proud man, he hated indebtedness of any sort:
He still hated the memory of the trial. Although he had probably gone. free as
a result of his change of front at the last moment, he constantly despised
himself for having made it.

A few weeks after the trial Verity wrote

My dear Cousin Ross,

I am writing you this time instead of Demelza
because what I have to say is perhaps a little more to you than to her, though
of course you may let her read this if you wish.

First may I say again, thank God for your
deliverance - and in that prayer, Andrew truly and sincerely joins. I know how
wicked it, was that the charge was ever brought against you, and in that
respect acquittal was no more than your right. Yet there is the deepest cause
for thankfulness in each one of your friends that there was no miscarriage of
Justice - and the true hope that any embitterment which the arrest caused in
you has been salved by this happy Outcome.

While I was in Bodmin I saw Francis twice. The
first time he called at the inn and, although he was somewhat the worse for drink,
I felt that he had come to see me in the intention of making up the Quarrel
between us; but when it came to the Point he, had not the words and so went
away unsatisfied. Therefore after the trial I sought him out and spoke to him
again.

This second meeting confirmed the other opinion
formed at the first that something is gravely wrong with him. He is
frighteningly bitter in the way you are sometimes, Ross. Yet not like you,
because I think he is more likely to do a mischief to himself than to others.

I know you and Francis have quarrelled, but I
have very strongly the Feeling that he wishes to be reconciled. I don't know
what was the full cause of the quarrel except that of course it began as a
result of my elopement with Andrew. I feel doubly concerned for the outcome.
If he makes some further approach to you I beg you to be accommodating if not
for his sake then for mine, who still love him in spite of all his faults. It
may be that you could help him back to a proper balance.

I don't like developments in France. It is
unwholesome for a King to be led into Paris as if he were a, prisoner, and
there is much Feeling here about it. Try not to speak too openly in favour of
liberty and freedom, Ross, for one can be so misunderstood. One is snapped up
at the first mention of such things by people who only twelve months ago were
all in favour of reform You will think this letter is quite a Lecture.

We went to Gwennap yesterday at the invitation
of one of Andrew's friends. A dreadful place and bleak as a desert with
hillocks of cinders; and large engines creaking and groaning.. All the whims
are worked by mules, and poor impish, half-starved children hang over them
flogging them round without respite. Steam and vapour hung over the scene like
a pall. One wonders how Wesley dared to go there. Being even halfway home gave
me a decided twinge.

I hear my stepson may be
back
in
England this summer - a mere twelve months after, his ship was
due. I hope to meet him then.

My dearest love to you both, Verity

In December Demelza was making rushlights with
Mrs. Gimlett, an employment that needed some practice and skill. The rushes had
been cut in October and put in water so as to prevent drying or shrinkage.
After they, were stripped they had been laid out on the grass to whiten and
"take the dew " for a week, and then dried in the sun. The last treatment
was to dip the rushes in scalding fat so that when withdrawn it congealed
about the stem. Last, year she had bought six pounds of grease from Aunt Mary
Rogers for two shillings, but this year, in the desperate need for the smallest
economy, she had saved her own fat, even the scummings of her bacon pot, and
was hoping it would do as well.

These small economies were the only way she
could make some contribution to the general need. Sometimes, too, in this quiet
December she had got Ross’s dinghy out and rowed twenty or thirty yards
offshore where she had been able to catch mackerel and skate enough for the
whole household. Ross did not know of this, and Gimlett was impressed to help
her and sworn to secrecy. To-day the kitchen was full of the sputterings of the
grease, and some of the smoke and steam of the process, when, there came a rat-tat
on the front door which she knew to be the knock of a stranger.

Jane Gimlett went to the door and reappeared
after a minute hastily wiping her greasy hands.

"If you please, mistress, it is Sir Hugh
Bodrugan. I asked him into the parlour. I hope twas the right thing to
do."

Sir Hugh had been calling irregularly for the
last eighteen months but she had not seen him since the trial. The thought came
to her that if she went in to him like this with spots, of grease on her face:
it might cure him of his interest. But vanity and a sense of her own low
beginnings were too strong. She flew upstairs and made quick repairs.

When she went in he was sprawling in Ross's best
chair examining the silver duelling pistols, which he had taken down from the
wall; he was wearing a red hunting coat and brown corduroy breeches and, since
she-had last seen him, a new wig. He got up and bowed over her hand.

"Y'r servant, ma'am. Thought I'd call and
refresh our friendship. Pleasant time we had in Bodmin, but a shade
inconclusive" The bawdy twinkling black eyes met her own as he
straightened up. They were almost on a level, she slightly the taller.

Maybe you looked on it different from me, Sir
Hugh. I found it exhausting."

He laughed. "Well, ye've got a husband no
one expected you to have. I trust he appreciates the escape. And I trust he
appreciates you."

Oh, we appreciate each other, Sir Hugh. We are
very happy, I assure you."

A shadow of discontent passed across his face.
"But not above helping a neighbour in distress, eh?"

"'In distress," she said, looking away
from his bold glance. "I didn't know baronets was ever in distress.''

"Oh yes," he said with a thick
chuckle. "They are mortal like other men. Liable to all the ills and
disappointments and all the temptations, as you, must know."

She went to the table at the side. " Can I
offer you port, sir, or is brandy, more to your fancy?"

Brandy, please. It lies easier on the
stomach."

As she poured out the drink she knew he was watching
her and was sorry that her frock was a cheap one, though she knew well enough
that he was not really interested in her frock:

He came over for the glass and took it with his
left hand, putting his arm round her waist as he did so. After a moment they
were seated again, he gulping at his glass, she on the edge of a chair at a
discreet distance and gently sipping.

" Tis not that sort of distress, I
trust" she said gravely..

" It well could be, ma'am, it well could
be."

"Then I fear I have no cure for, you."

"You have it, miss, but withhold it, being
hardof heart. However at this instant that's not the distress - I seek your aid
for. It's my mare Sheba"

She stared at him over the rim of her glass, the
dark wine making some added glimmer in the dark of her eyes. " Sheba? What
is wrong and what can I do for you?"

"She's sick, with some infernal fever that
she can't throw off. Her eyelids are swollen and she has a racking cough. She
can barely walk, and her knee joints crack at every movement as if they were
dry sticks."

I'm sorry to hear it," she said, putting
out one slipper and then, as he glanced down, withdrawing it. "But
why
do
you come to me? Sir Hugh blew through his lips. "Why do I
come to you?

Because I was consulting Trevaunance on the
problem this morning, and he says you cured a pedigree cow of his when all the
farriers had failed! That's why. Is that not a good reason?"

Demelza blushed ,and finished her port. As she
did so she heard a horse outside and Ross dismounted at the door. Gimlett ran
past the window to lead Darkie to the stables.

"It was mostly a matter of good fortune,
Sir Hugh. It so happened”

"All cures are good fortune one way or
another, but everyone hasn't the honesty to, acknowledge it. Trevaunance was
telling me that you're learned on herbs and gypsy lore. If you."

" Oh no,” Demelza began. At that juncture
Ross came in.

He looked surprised and not too pleased to see
the thickset hairy-baronet sprawling in his chair and talking to Demelza in
such a familiar manner. He had never quarrelled with Sir Hugh, but had never
liked him.. Also, as a result of his visit to Truro, he had his own affairs
very much on his mind, and he had only half his attention to spare for an
unexpected visitor.

" Sir Hugh has called----" Demelza
began.

" My mare Sheba is ill, Poldark, and I've
called to solicit your wife's good offices. She's been ailing; for more than
two weeks - Sheba, I mean - and Connie's in the greatest of a passion over it;
she swears it, is the grooms fault., Anyway, it ain't natural for the mare to
be ill so long and she but six years old. Treneglos was saying one of his had
it and died of it! We can't afford to lose her. It ain't natural at all."

Ross dropped his riding gloves on a chair and
poured himself some brandy. "How can Demelza help you?"

" Well, I hear she's a rare hand with herbs
and spells and suchlike. Trevaunance only told me this morning, or I should
have been over before. Damn it, the farriers have no more, idea than the man in
the moon!"

" The farriers" Ross began.

" I was just saying to Sir Hugh," Demelza
said hastily, " that Sir John was putting too much store on a little advice
I gave him back in August month. It was, no more'n a word I dropped about his
sick cow, and she grew better by accident."

"Well, come over and drop a word about my
sick mare, and see if she gets better by accident. Cod, it will do no harm
surely."

Demelza hesitated, opened her mouth to speak.

"After all," said Sir Hugh, "it
is no more than repaying one good turn with another. We're neighbours and
should do what we can, to be neighbourly : - that's what I thought at Bodmin.
Come yourself, Poldark, if you've the mind. Connie'll victual you well enough,
I'll say that for her. We dine at three. I shall expect you tomorrow,
what?"

"I'm sorry," Ross said. ` I have
business which will keep me at the mine all day. Perhaps we can arrange one day
next week."

Demelza got up to refill Sir Hugh's glass. Maybe
I could go, Ross?" she said gently. Not to dine, but just for half an hour
to see the mare. I can do naught, of course, but if Sir Hugh really wants it
and nothing less will satisfy him .. '

Bodrugan took the drink. "That suits me
fine. I'll expect you any time after eleven. And anything you want - medicines,
plasters, clysters, herbs - just say the word. I'll have a groom ready to ride
to Truro."

After a few more sentences Ross went upstairs,
but Sir Hugh was not hurrying. He finished his brandy and took a third, while
Demelza wondered how Jane was managing the rushlights. At length he left,
stocky, authoritative and vigorous - squeezed Demelza's hand lengthily,
climbed on his big horse and cantered across the bridge and up the valley.

She went into the kitchen and found Jane had
finished the job and was cleaning up the mess. After about ten minutes , she
heard Ross come down again, and she followed him-back into the parlour.

"Did you eat in Truro? We've some pie
left." "I ate in Truro."

She glanced at him, took, in his bleak
expression, thought it a criticism of her attitude towards Sir Hugh.

We're neighbours, Ross. You couldn't expect for
me not to receive him."

Who? Oh, Bodrugan." Ross lifted an eyebrow.
"I suppose you will not go tomorrow.

“Of course I'll go,” she said, a faint edge on
her voice. "I promised, didn't I?"

He said with irony “D'you really suppose he
wants you to cure his mare? I had a greater regard for your intelligence than
that"