Jeremy Poldark (21 page)

Elizabeth said : " Francis will have told
you of the estrangement between ourselves and our cousins?" I know of it,
yes."

"Do you think Ross is, settled down after
all his trouble?”

I always feel," Dwight said, "that
Ross is like a volcano. He may be quiet forever or erupt tomorrow."

He caught a look in her eyes which seemed to
show agreement. He went on: "Demelza I've seen less of than before.
(Which was true enough. Sometimes indeed it might have been that Demelza was
trying to avoid him, though he could think of no reason.)”

“Where's Geoffrey Charles?" said Aunt
Agatha. "Where's the boy ...?"

"Would you think," Elizabeth said,
"that they were happy together?"

"... He's going to be a tartar," said,
the old lady.' "Not seven yet and up to all manner o' saucy tricks. I'd
give him a good nooling. No cheeil's right without a stick to his back once in
a while."

Dwight said " Perhaps I should answer that
if I knew the answer."

"She was good to us last year,"
Elizabeth said. "Without, her one or more of us might have died. Would you
take her a message from, me? Tell her - would you say that we once spent a
happy Christmas together at Trenwith and say that we should like them to come
again this year. Impress it on her, would you, that we really want them, need
them? D'you mind doing this for me?"

"Of course I will."

"Perhaps you'd join us yourself. We shall
have no special attraction to offer you, but - "

He thanked her, said he would be delighted, and
took his leave. On his way out he saw Francis coming in, walking up the drive
from the direction of the main gate. They didn't directly pass each other, but
Francis raised an ironical finger to his forehead. He was roughly dressed and
his boots were caked in mud, but he looked better than when last Dwight had
seen him.

The short day was closing, and it would be dusk
before he reached Grambler. The sullen sea was already blurred where it could
be glimpsed between the declivities of the land. 'The damp mild pall of clouds
drifted across from the, coast in infinite deepening layers of brown like
forerunners of the long night.

As he came out on the main' track above Grambler
he saw a squat bowlegged figure tramping ahead. It was Jud Paynter, and in a
hurry. He glanced behind nervously: at the sound of a horseman, but his
aggrieved face cleared when he saw who it was.

"Evening, Paynter." Dwight was riding
past when Jud raised his hand.

" Handsome. weather we're 'aving, Mester
Enys. Proper job for the time o' year. Twill pass the winter away."

Dwight replied conventionally, then he slackened
his reins to move on again.

" Mester Enys."

" Yes."

" I s'pose tes axing more'n you could do to
keep; aside of me till we get to Grambler."

" Not if there's some good reason. It's
only half a mile.

"Alf a mile can be a cant of a way. Aye,
an' thur's reason, sure 'nough Thur's a couple o' great men inching up behind me,
and I aren't taking to the notion at all. No, not me. Not Jud Paynter. I aren't
aiming to be churched just yet. See any sign of 'em, did ee?"

What d'you mean?"

" What I d'say, that's what. Just in St.
Ann's I am, about me ordinary, proper, reasonable, human, respectable, decent,
fair an' honest business when first I seen the two of 'em eyeing me as if I was
a green goose ready for the Christmas pot. Ullo, I says. Footpaths, I says. Or
some such, I says. I'd best be off home, else they'll likely slit me throat
when I aren't looking. Tes a crying shame," Jud went on, " what the
country's coming to. Can't stir outside your own front door wi'out blackguards
lying in wait. Tedn right. Tedn proper. Tedn fair."

" Do they suspect you to be carrying
money?"

" Me" said Jud, startled. I aren't carrying
money. Not more'n a few pence to buy an honest glass o' rum"

Why should anyone try to rob you, then? Why, not
me? My horse alone would be the better prize."

Jud shrugged. "There you are. Tes the way
of things. Maybe they think there'd be more of a dido if you was ditched. Nay.
Tes the widows an' orphans, that's what the bad men d'go for."

Which are you?" Dwight asked.

" Who, me?" said Jud. " Why, II
been an orphan ever since me mother and father died."

They made slow progress, Dwight having
difficulty in keeping his horse in check, Jud panting along grumbling behind:
Dwight had a pot of ointment to deliver in the village, so he left that and was
just overtaking Jud again when he reached his shack. Prudie was at the door.

So, there ye are, you splatty old pig," she
said,' and then she recognised the horseman. "Avnoon, Dr. Dwight,"
she added sheepishly.

" Good day to you, Prudie. You must be glad
to see, your husband safely home."

"Home, an? I ain't 'ad sight or sound of
him these pretty many days. Reckon he b'long to think he can go off an' come
back just when he e'take the fancy. Dirty old gale.

"You know where I been," said Jud.
"Know it fine an' well. Earning money, I been, to keep ee, in lazy
idleness. And Doctor e'know just so well as you, though he may pretend
elsewise."

Dwight said: "A good run?"

" Twas none so poor."

"Was that why the men were following
you?"

" What men?" demanded Prudie, wiping
her swollen red nose on her sleeve.

Jud looked. uneasy while Dwight explained.

"Tes naught to do wi' the trade," he
said. "Tes just as I told ee. Footpaths looking, for some poor 'elpless
old man to rob. I tell ee tes a bad business when law and order e'go for
naught."

"Well," said Prudie, "I can't
suppose what's amiss with 'im. Ever since he come 'ome from that trial he's
been like this-scared to go abroad after dark, 'e is. Scared of 'is own shadow
oft times, I reckon. Say 'bo' to him an' he'll run like a meader."

Tedn true Tedn right I I aren't afraid of
nothing except what tis natural to be afraid of. An' I aren't no meader, see,
so, there!"

Be as it will, tis somethin' to do wi' that
trial, said Prudie. "Dear knows what tis, but you was there, Dr. Dwight,
my son, an' mebbe you can guess. Like as not Jud was tidely when he went in the
stand, an' t is a mystery to me how he wasn't locked away there and then!"

But what has that to do with his being afraid
now?"

That's what I been saying till I'm swelled out
wi' saying it," Jud stated violently. "'What you got t’eat, wife? I'm
leary enough without all this slack-jaw. Ef ye paid more heed to yer cooking
and less to yer talkin the worle'd be a sight betterer place. There's no peace,
not in the home nor out of it!"

Dwight took the hint and began to move on.
Prudie's voice followed him like an organ with all the stops pulled out. Law or
no, tis on account o' something to do wi' that there trial. You can't fox me,
ole man. All the time, soon as it go dark, you're hoppin' and dodging like a
flea on a hot plate. Thur's somethin' behind it, an' I'll get to the root of un
yet"

Dwight's last view was of Jud going grumpily
into the cottage, and Prudie's threats and warnings blew-after him through the
wide dusk.

The brooch fetched seventy pounds. The
pawnbroker said prices had come down since they bought it; also there was not
the sale for expensive jewellery in Cornwall. Ross said it was as much as they
could reasonably expect. Demelza's horse, Caerhays, fetched thirty-five
guineas, and the carpet ten. Ross said the frock was not to be sold. Very well,
he should go to prison and she would never wear it again and the moths would
get at it and it would go out of fashion, and it was too big already about the
waist because she had lost weight and he should go to prison; but the frock was
not to be sold. Demelza took a warmth and comfort from that.

Then they started on the farm stock. They sold
their two year-old colt, Sikh, for ten guineas, and their two best cows for
fourteen guineas apiece. It was not a good time of year for disposing of farm stock.
Ross sold with the bitter consciousness that the people who bought his animals
would be able to dispose of them in three months' time at a profit. They got
two pounds, twelve shillings and sixpence each for two month-old heifer calves.
Without oxen, ploughing would be almost impossible; so there could be no
economy there. They sold their pigs and almost all their, poultry. Jane Gimlett
was in tears, and Jack Cobbledick only just avoided them. With some twenty-five
pounds still to be got Ross went round his farm. Of all his livestock, built up
carefully over seven years, he now had one cow, due to calf in April, one
horse, his team of oxen, a half dozen chickens and a few ducks. It was while
they were on this tour that Dwight arrived with Elizabeth's invitation

Tell them ..." said Ross, and stopped, the
anger swelling, "that we are so busy savouring' the sweets of ---“

Tell them," said Demelza hastily. "But
it isn't for Dwight to be our messenger, is it? Shall you accept for yourself,
Dwight?"

"I think so.. Christmas isn't a great deal
of pleasure spent alone."

There are worse alternatives," said Ross.

After a minute Dwight added: "Of course I
should enjoy it better at Trenwith if you were there...:'

" Complimentary but inaccurate.''

"I'll take the chance",

“There's no chance to take."

The awkward silence was broken by Garrick, who
suddenly appeared and came bounding Across the yard like a monstrous French
poodle, wagging his stump and showing a lolling red tongue. As usual he had no
respect for the decencies; Dwight had to duck out of the way, and Ross came off
with a couple of muddy paw marks on the front of his shirt.

The trouble with Demelza," Ross said,
brushing himself, "is that she adopts strange animals and then doesn't sufficiently
tame them. We had Sir Hugh Bodrugan over the other day."

Dwight laughed. "Sir Hugh has never shown
any special ambition to lick my face.''

“Not yours perhaps."

"Oh, Ross," Demelza said, "why
could we not go to Trenwith?"

Ross looked at his empty yard. "D'you seriously
ask that?"

"I know I should not; but ... it is a pity
to think too much in the past:"

How fail when it so much influenced the present?
"Tell them that we will come when Verity and Blarney are invited and not
before."

"I don't think it will be very long before
that happens, said Demelza. "Verity and Francis were reconciled at
Bodmin."

" We can all be reconciled together,
then."

After a minute Demelza said: " That's what
I should like too. But if we were to make the first move

Ross thought, Oh, God, what if my bankruptcy is
Francis's fault (and the chances are it would have happened in any case),
perhaps Demelza is right. She often is. Reconciliation is what Verity wants.
And Demelza wants it. And Elizabeth. The last thought wakened in him a desire, almost
a need, to see Elizabeth again. He'd never got over his attachment, it was
something fundamental, a weakness if you liked, overlooked but still there.

Well," he said, "we'll think it over.
At this present moment twenty or thirty pounds is more important than all the
Christmas reunions. Perhaps you'd like to take out a mortgage on my property,
Dwight. It would have to be a third mortgage and bear interest at a hundred per
cent. There's nothing like moneylending for bringing in a fair return."

"You may have ten pounds, which is all I
own. It could go to no better cause."

" Nor is it yet a lost cause, though we
have moments of doubt. D'you remember Tregeagle, who had to drain out Dozmare
Pool with a sea shell? Mine's the opposite task."

They moved on. Dwight began to talk about his
discovery of scurvy in Sawle, and this occupied them until they returned to the
house, where John Gimlett was working on a library window, repairing the rusty
hinge of a shutter.

If you're short of turf we can let, you have some,"
Ross said. "There's enough stacked for two winters almost"

Garrick, having shown his overflowing affection,
had galloped off again, but at this stage he was seen returning carrying
something in his mouth. It proved to be the hindquarters of a rabbit which he
laid at Demelza's feet.

"Go away" said Demelza in disgust
"Horrid dog! Take it away!"

Ross picked up the corpse and heaved it across
the stream, the dog bounding in hot pursuit.

" I wonder what Garrick would be worth in
the open market," he said. "One overgrown mongrel. Carnivorous.
Fights bulls and guards babies. Trained to sit on seedlings and scratch up
flowers. Good crockery breaker. Suffers sometimes from bad breath. Results
guaranteed."

Dwight laughed. As they went into the house he
said "Shall you be able to keep the Gimletts?"

" They won't leave. We can feed them, and
that's all they want for the time. And I can't work the farm without
Cobbledick."

Seriously," Dwight said, "my ten
pounds is yours if it's any use."

"Seriously," said Ross, " it will
have to be the clock, Demelza, and a few bits of furniture. Then there's my
father's pistols and the old telescope.”

So it has all come round like in a circle,
thought Demelza. Three years since we spent Christmas at Trenwith. And just
such another day, cloudy and quiet. Then I was that frightened I hardly knew
what I was saying. Scullery-maid going to visit the gentry. Now it's all
changed. Nervous in a way, but not that way. They're poor. Just as poor as we and
Francis is working on his own land, and Elizabeth .. '. Elizabeth has lost her
terrors, and is full of gratitude to me for what took place last Christmas.
Dear Verity isn't there. But I've no fear of doing the wrong thing, or making a
fool of myself. Yet I'm not near so happy as then. And the queer thing is I'm
expecting another child, and again hiding it from Ross, though for a different
reason and it's just about four months forward, the same as last time.

D'you remember," she said, "when we
were walking this way before? Garrick kept following on and laying down when we
spoke to him, just as if for once he was going to do as he was told."

"Yes," said Ross.

" And you remember we met Mark Daniel and
he took Garrick by the ear and marched him home:. D'you ever hear anything of
Mark now, Ross?"

" I don't know how he's faring with all
this upset, but Paul, saw him last in Roscoff."

" Don't you think it would be safe enough
for him to come home?"

"No. If things get too bad in France he
should go to Ireland or America; but there'd be no peace of mind for him here,
even under an assumed name."

Last time there had been Verity at the door to
greet them To-day Demelza noticed the weeds growing in the drive, the grass
rank under the trees, the patched-up window and the unpainted gate leading to
the orchard. Tabb let them in, and the old faded Trenwiths, in their dresses
and, cloaks of crimson and amber, stared coldly over the ringing empty hall. As
they took off their cloaks Elizabeth came out of the winter parlour.

Demelza was surprised to see her wearing the
frock of startling crimson velvet with the cascades of fine lace winch, she had
worn at Julia's christening: There had been no suggestion that, this was to be
a party, and Demelza, feeling that any display in the present circumstances
would be looked on as bad form by these well-bred people, had come in her afternoon
dress.

So she's still interested in Ross, thought
Demelza, with a sharp twinge, and any gratefulness to me won't make the least
difference, I might have known. Nevertheless she went forward with a smile on
her face and was graciously welcomed. Too graciously, she at once thought. It
didn't ring true, like the sick Elizabeth of twelve months ago. What a fool
I've been.

Francis was not there to welcome them, but when
they had taken off their cloaks he came out of the big parlour, He was a little
hesitant at this first proper meeting, and the two men eyed each other for a
second.

Francis said: ",Well, Ross so you
came." “I came."

"It's - a good thing, I think. I'm glad,
anyway."

He put out his hand rather tentatively. Ross
took it, but the clasp was not a long one.

Francis said “We were always good friends in the
past.”

"The best way," Ross said, "is to
forget the past."

"I'm very willing. It's a bitter
subject."

That said, the reconciliation formally made,
there seemed nothing to add to it, and so the constraint grew up again.

"Did you walk here?"

" Yes." A sore point, with Caerhays
sold. " I see Odgers is getting some repairs done to Sawle Church at
last."

"To the roof only. It has rained in so
persistently these last few months that often the choir have had to sing with
water dripping down their necks. I wish the damned steeple would fall down. It
always persuades me I'm drunk, when I get to the northwest of it.

"Someday perhaps, when a Poldark is rich
again, we shall be able to do something about it."

“I think the church will have fallen down
naturally before then."

My dear," said Elizabeth, linking Demelza's
arm, "I was afraid you would never bring him. If he makes up his mind
there's seldom much prospect of changing it But perhaps you are clever enough
to know how to set-about it."

"I'm not clever," said Demelza. Indeed
I'm not, she thought. Can I
hold my
own this week end, like I did three
years ago? This time I haven't the heart. I'm too miserable and sick in mind to
want to fight for him if he doesn't want me.”

"My father and mother will be here for
dinner," said Elizabeth. " Also Dwight Enys. I'm afraid we shall have
no visitors after. You remember last time, George Warleggan and the Trenegloses
turned up and you sang those enchanting songs."

I haven't seen the Trenegloses for ages,"
said Demelza, as they went into the big parlour:

"Ruth is expecting her first child next
month; There'll be great excitement if it is a boy. They, say old Mr. Horace Treneglos
is already planning for his first grandson. There's not a lot of money about
these days but when a family has been in existence more than six hundred years
. Of course, ours is older."

" What, the Poldarks?"

Elizabeth smiled. "No. I'm sorry. I meant
my own family. We have records back to 971. Ross, it's like old times to see
you in this room."

" It's like old times to be here,"
said Ross enigmatically.

"And old times," said Francis,
bringing a wineglass across,

“is precisely what we are doing our best to
forget. Here's to new times, I say. If there are any, then they can be no worse
than what's gone, and good riddance." He smiled into Demelza's eyes.

Demelza slowly shook her head, smiling back.
"Old times were good to me," she said.

It wasn't the sort of meal they'd had before,
either, though it was the best put on for two years. They had ham and fowls and
a leg, of mutton, boiled, with caper sauce, and afterwards batter, pudding and
currant jelly and damson tarts, and black caps in custard, and blancmange

Demelza had never met Elizabeth's father and
mother, and she was astonished at them. If keeping records since 971 made you
look like that, then she'd rather have an ancestry that was decently forgot.
Mr. Chynoweth was thin and wiry, with little pompous mannerisms that surprised
because they claimed too much. Mrs. Chynoweth was a dreadful sight, corpulent,
with one eye discoloured and a swollen neck. Not having seen her before her
illness, Demelza, couldn't imagine where Elizabeth had got her ravishing looks.
It didn't take long either to discover that they were people with a grievance.
Something had gone wrong with their lives and they resented it as a personal
affront. Demelza preferred old Aunt Agatha any day, for all her whiskers and
her dribbling chin. You couldn't answer her back, but her conversation had
vitality and point. It was a. pity someone didn't write down her Flow of
memories, before she died and they were all gone, lost forever in yesterday's
dust.

After dinner, to Demelza's, horror, though she
should have remembered this was the routine, the women went off on their own,
leaving the men over the port; and in any nightmare Demelza could not have
chosen three more fearful companions than Elizabeth in her present mood Aunt
Agatha and Mrs. Chynoweth.