BrtWtrtiiiliMUSWl!)lMltlMMa)l<|i>WtliMIIMM iiwiiiw ' w.i)i ]i ii>i » i i w i KMW!iii MHiw ^^ I ;««1|B|||4«M.||| *lll«^^ll«p«\1^ uiller ouch THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES A SPANISH MAID A SPANISH MAID BY L. QUILLER COUCH AUTHOR OF "man," ETC. ETC. j^^^ ^tia fork DODD MEAD & COMPANY LONDON: SERVICE & PATON 1898 /IDs ICeacber 6254G4 CHAPTER I. THE afternoon sun glared down upon the plain and upon the one rough tent which alone broke the even stretch of the ground. All around lay silence and a dry, dazzling desolation as if the world were dead and the sun had come here to gloat upon his own superior longevity. East, west, north, south, as far as an eye could see, the bare land stretched until it met the wonderful, radiating sky, with never a mound or a hillock to cast a shadow or shut the view. Nothing but the solitary tent, and, at the back of that tent, a woman — dead. There were no comforts here for the easing of death ; not the commonest aids or simplest reliefs. A pair of unskilful hands, guided by a mad, overcharged heart, had raised this gibbose shelter to the end that death might at least come under cover, and the last throes be hidden from the merciless face of the scorching, A I 2 A SPANISH MAID unabashed sun overhead. A tumbled layer of gaudy shawls formed the deathbed, and one shawl of vivid scarlet covered the rigid body to the waist, but the bloodless features were bare, as were the ivory hands crossed saint-like on the breast. The face of the dead woman was finely cut and handsome, framed on either side with loose waves of jetty hair, but the curved nostrils, the curling lip, the set chin left the silent declaration that the heart of her had held tumults — passion, love, anger — as plainly as if the words had been written across her features. Such a woman — such a woman as this still shape had been — must have grasped the beaker of Life with both hands fiercely, and have drunk to the depths of rapture and pain, in reckless, uncalculating draughts, never in cautious sips. God would not match those features to a placid life. But now the tumult and the fierceness were over. Death had put out the fire from her eyes, had smoothed the passion lines from her face, had wrested away the wild power of her will, and had left only a wonderful calm. At the door of the shelter stood a living figure — the figure of a girl, white and tense ; her eyes fixed on the sunny Spanish plain stretching away before her, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Only in her small brown hands was there any sign of life, as they gripped and A SPANISH MAW 3 loosened one another in a monotony of anguish, leaving ten bloodless spots each time the fingers' tension was relaxed. And this hving face at the door, in spite of soft curves and young bloom, was as the face of the dead woman upon the gaudy bed within ; holding the same possibilities, the same elements of passion — restraint unknown, calm impossible. And the hours passed on. The day colours on the plain became dyed in the flush of sunset and still the girl stood there, motionless except for the ceaseless grip of her hands. By-and-bye a slow dimness fell on everything and the still figure grew indistinct in the doorway beneath the paling sky. Inside the tent the shadows deepened to blackness, except where the faint light, creeping through the doorway, lay on the motionless form on the shawls. At length a large uneven moon rose up on one side of the sky, and a musical call in the far distance sent its echoes across the silent plain. The sound roused the girl to the realisation of the pain which had been swelling in her heart. She turned from the outside world with a sob, and faced round ; but the contrast from the brightness of the moonlight to the shadowy tent struck on her heart with a great stab of desolation and falling on her knees by the dead woman, a wailing. 4 A SPANISH MAID childish moan broke from her^the moan of a young thing yearning to be comforted. But the cold, passionless face gave back no sympathy. There was no comfort to be given ; nothing but desolation and an unspeakable future. When the moon, rising higher, threw a broad white shaft through the doorway, it lighted a strange scene. The girl had ceased her moaning. For an hour or more she had knelt there with the misery surging into full life in her heart. Passionately, despairingly, she had implored some word or token from the cold, unresponsive lips. " Mother ! My mother ! " she had sobbed beseechingly, her cry rising to an anguished wail. " My mother ! all that I love ! speak to me again ! Tell me again, must I do it ? Say once more that you loved me best, and I will even go to him. Oh my mother ! my beloved ! " But no response had come from the dead lips. Then, at length, as her cry rang unanswered, and the silence mocked at her misery and her undesired worship, all the evil in her — a thick sediment — rose in defiance. She realised that she was alone, that the mother who had claimed and accepted all her adoration had left her to misery and loneliness ; and she raved at the dead woman so impotent and so indifferent. " Go back to that devil and his tribe ? Go back and A SPANISH MAID 5 be of his people ? Go back to be a tortured slave ? I will not go ! " She rose from the ground. Her eyes flashed, and a spot burned on each cheek as if seared with a pointed iron ; her small hands were clenched, and the last remnants of love and mourning went dying from her heart. The girl was changed utterly. " You are dead," she cried, in hard contempt, " I have to live ; and the wide-stretched plains of Spain are too narrow to hold me and — my chief." She quivered with her rage ; and then, with a swift, cruel movement, she snatched a soft, scarlet scarf from beneath the head of the dead woman she had caressed so passionately a short hour before, and winding it round her own dark face and shoulders, turned from the still form without another look or word of parting, and ran from the tent, out into the moonlight and across the solitude of the plain. For an hour or more there was silence. The soft thud of the girl's retreating feet had died quickly away in the distance, and no living ear was there to conjure back their echoes. The plain was bright and shadowless as at noon, and the dead woman lay unmolested on her bright draperies, white, and wonderfully beautiful in the broad stream of moonlight which fell upon her. At length, away across the plain, at the back of the 6 A SPANISH MAID shelter, a dark mass grew slowly out of nothingness — a dark mass which gradually drew nearer and nearer, and, in so doing, lengthened, and curved, and advanced, as some strange and gigantic serpent ; and then, as the night minutes passed, this serpent, drawing yet nearer, took shape, and showed itself to be a slowly- marching line of men and beasts, wending their way onwards across the plain. Nearer still they came, a tribe of Spanish wanderers, strong-built and swarthy, with heavily-burdened mules bearing their food and few possessions, and a handful of dark-skinned women following in their train. Suddenly the foremost figure halted; his eyes had sighted the unusual presence of the little tent upon the broad white stretch of the plain before him. Wheeling about, he uttered a clear, musical call which rang out weirdly in the stillness, and at the sound of it the long line of wanderers came to a standstill. There was a trampling of hoofs, a short confusion of voices, and then the leader, giving over his mule to the care of the man nearest him, advanced alone. A swarthy, sinewy man he was, of enormous height, in well-worn velvet, with a broad silken sash bound about his waist. He came with a steady, swinging stride, with the notes of a wild, solemn-sounding chant upon his lips, with careless courage in his heart, to A SPANISH MAID 7 seek chance booty. Then, placing his hand upon the gleaming handle of his knife, he held aside the curtain of the tent and stooped to enter the doorway. What he saw there seemed to startle him, for he uttered a sharp cry of wonder, and stepping quickly back, tore the loose curtain from its supports that the full light might fall on all. But when this was done, when the cold moonlight shone down unshadowed, a sudden power seemed to hold him still and rigid, and there were many moments of absolute silence. Then suddenly, the man leaned forward with horror and amazement graven deep upon his face, and another subdued cry broke from him. His starting eyes held fear in them, and recognition. And suddenly he knew that the search of years had come to an end. It was no spirit-fancy, no trick of the brain. The still, white woman on the bed was real — and dead ! As the man realised it his hand grew weak upon his knife, and his tongue clave dry to his mouth; and then an anger which had blazed in his heart for years was deadened for a while. In time, as he stood and looked down upon the woman, some of the deadened anger blazed back to fierce Ufe again, but mingling with it came the fire of another mighty passion — a passion older than his wrath — it was his love ! And he gripped the handle of his knife again as the two passions fought in his heart. 8 A SPANISH MAID He had hunted her so long, with vengeance in his heart and curses on his lips, to repay those old days when she had tricked and foiled him, maddened and bewitched him, stabbing his very soul with jealousy till he hated her as fiercely as he had loved her, yet holding him, strong man as he was, enthralled in her power even while he longed to kill her. This dead woman had played a cruel, one-sided game, until that day — the day on which his turn began, the birthday of Teresa. Then he had returned her pain for pain, unsparing, illimitable. How he had gloried in it ! How she had winced and fought when he had tortured the child ! How her fury had eased his fever of pain ! But she had baulked him again, and the fever was but fiercer when she stole her child and fled from him. To-night it seemed to him that that flight belonged to some long past age, it rose so far away in his memory. Ever since that day he had followed, seeking her with his implacable anger seething ceaselessly in his heart. And now he had found her, within reach of his hand. He might seize her if he would, and crush her in his grip; he might clutch at her rounded throat, or strike her across her curling lips. But she was white and dead and unresisting. Even as he looked his anger ebbed away ; he forgot her fickle heart and her wild witcheries. He forgot the child who had basked in the love which A SPANISH MAID 9 had been held back from him, and he stood staring down at the still face, and the night hours wore on, and the lines about his rigid mouth grew softer; and at last he stooped and smoothed her icy forehead with his hard, brown hand ; and then he kneeled, all trembling, and clasped his arms about the stiffening body. The moon, which had looked so long upon the white woman on her scarlet bed, turned her gentle face away and left the scene dim and unwitnessed. And the night passed silently. At length the cheery young dawn, ignorant of the moon's mercy and less considerate, came to take her place, looking with a rosy face athwart the plain, on living and on dead alike. As his warm flush rested on the woman's face, giving to it a fictitious glow more ghastly than its own pallor, the man raised the body from its resting-place, and taking it in his arms as if it were a sleeping child, bore it away from the ruins of the shelter he had torn from it, to the waiting tribe in the distance. " You did not call," said the man who stepped forward to meet him. " I did not need you," answered the chief. " You have found her ? " the brown-skinned men and women questioned eagerly, noting his burden. lo A SPANISH MAID " I have found her," he replied tersely. " Does she submit ? " they demanded. *' She is dead," he declared. " Dead ! " they cried in amazement. " Dead ! And the girl — Teresa ? " But he was laying his burden with rough care upon the ground and did not heed them. " The girl, Teresa, what of her ? " they persisted. " Teresa, Teresa ! " he murmured absently, " I had forgotten Teresa." Then, rousing himself, the evil light came back into his eyes. "We will seek her by-and- bye," he promised. CHAPTER II. " TXT'E will seek her by-and-bye." ^ ' The ear of Teresa's imagination heard the words and gauged the value of the note which ran through them ; also, she could see the evil light in those eyes, and could feel again the stinging lash and the pointed goad ; and she knew that the seeking would be relentless. The moon had looked down upon her flight ; and the pink dawn which struck across her mother's face as she lay under the eyes of her captor, fell on the girl hurrying westward from the pursuit of the one living being she feared. Others she could trick and cajole — she had done so a hundred times — but there could be neither tricks nor cajoleries with the father who stood to her in lieu of devil. He knew them all and acted according to that knowledge. She might have been some spirit of evil — this girl, Teresa — as she hurried on her way; her lithe body curving forward in her impatience, her dark eyes burn- ing, the gaudy shawl wound about her, demanding II 12 A SPANISH MAID rather than pleading for food at the villages through which she passed. And the peasants, as they looked into her face, read something in her imperious eyes which taught them either charity or terror, for they gave her what she asked and ventured no question in return. To the length of her journey she paid no heed, nor did she note the morning give place to noonday and noonday to evening; the night itself was but a hindrance, nothing more. At last, one morning, when the darkness had rolled back from the land, her eager eyes looked on the wonderful welcome of the sea, bordering the horizon and melting into the mist of the sky above it ; and her heart-beats came hurrying with her gladness as she gazed and gazed, and scented the brine of it in the breeze. In spite of her long tramp, with its scant meals and grudged baitings, her lids were wide and her steps light as she reached the crowded, evil-smelling town and stood upon the bustling quay. It was still early morning, but the sun was wide- awake now, and as he turned his great hot face on his cloud-pillow he rolled back the thin pink mist curtain from over the waters, and opened his blazing eyes upon the world, gilding all the masts, and ropes, and limply- hanging sails at anchor in the bay. It was all a wonderful sight to the girl of the plains, and she sank A SPANISH MAID 13 on to a rough stone bench, unnoticed by the chattering, chaffering men and women round about her, and looked out beyond the harbour. This was what she had come for. This was why she had toiled on through heat, and glare, and darkness. To reach the sea, and sail, and sail, away to some other land — some far-distant land — where that pursuing devil could never find her. And she must not rest, nor loiter; even now he was hurrying nearer to her; each moment meant a closer step. But though, in truth, there were the ships, she who needed them so sorely was yet helpless on the shore, without money or a friend ; and as she sat, and looked, and thought, she realised her extremity, and her pulses beat fever-fast, and her temples throbbed. As she sat there chafing, gripping her hot hands and breathing quick breaths, with her desperate, darting eyes she noted, apart from all the other craft, a strange, dark, square-rigged vessel, lying at anchor in the distance ; and, as she noted it, her eyes became riveted, so curious a ship it was — almost graceful, yet almost evil. To Teresa it seemed, all suddenly, that, from this ship, invisible arms reached out to hold her, to draw her, and she watched and watched until it seemed as if her soul's welfare were entangled in its cordage. As the last traces of the morning mist melted into the sky, she 14 A SPANISH MAID could see that many men were moving on the deck, and that then a boat was lowered and lay for some minutes heaving on the water. After a while two figures clambered down the vessel's side, and stepping into the boat pushed it off, then a strip of daylight showed between boat and vessel, and the boat drew slowly and silently towards the quay. The two men at the oars pulled with long, indolent strokes, and Teresa, watching, forgot her fears and her weariness, and all the noise and strangeness of the scene about her, as the boat moved across the wonderful blue of the waters toward the dull green stone-work of the quay. There, having made fast their ropes to the iron ring, the men stepped out, and climbing the steep, tide- washed steps, mingled with the noisy, bargaining crowd. Teresa, leaning forward on her bench to watch them as they came in view, drew back with a quick gasp of horror as she looked upon them closely. She had never seen men such as these before. Unlike the swarthy Spaniards she had always looked upon, these men were small and ghastly, with lank, colourless hair, and pale faces, clear and swelled as the faces of drowned persons. For many minutes her eyes followed them as they passed and repassed silently in the throng, staring before them with pale, abstracted eyes which seemed A SPANISH MAID 15 to focus nothing. And then a quick decision came to Teresa. There was no time now to spare for the weighing of right against wrong ; she could think of no better chance ; and, without a moment's hesitation, she rose from the bench and walked away from the busy sailors and the chafferers, and stole down the slimy green steps to the boat which lay moored at the foot of them. Then she stepped into it and looked about her. Above she could hear the voices of the people, gossiping and bargaining, exchanging their news and their wares with equal readiness for fresh details and current coin respectively. Around lay the heaving sea, blue and sparkling. At a distance, apart from the ordinary busy craft, loomed the strange black vessel with its curious rigging. And there in the boat she stood alone, rocking gently at the foot of the dark steps and considering of her course. As the girl paused, her eyes fell upon some dark sail- cloth lying up in the boat's bow, and again her decision was swift. Glancing hurriedly upward to note that she was unobserved, she crawled to the bow and drew the sail-cloth lightly over herself, and lay there motionless, painfully conscious of the leaping pulses which beat in her throat and ears. Before half-an-hour had passed, the white-faced oars- i6 A SPANISH MAID men came down the steps again to their boat, and, loosing her, silently took their places at the rowlocks. They brought nothing with them from the town, and they said no word to one another, but they gripped their oars and pulled slowly away from the quay towards the vessel outside the harbour. They had not glanced towards the sail-cloth in the bows, and Teresa strove to check the rise and fall of her breast as she lay gasping under the weight of it. When she reckoned that the distance to the ship must be well-nigh covered, she softly bared her face and looked about her. The vessel was near now, and here and there at the sides she could see men moving and working intently, and she guessed that they were preparing for departure. The men in the boat heard none of her careful movements, but pulled steadily on unconscious of the freight aboard. Suddenly she spoke, and her voice was high and imperious. The men as suddenly ceased their rowing, and, turning slowly, looked at her. Their awful faces struck a chill at her heart, and as their pale, unearthly eyes met hers, she shivered in the hot sunshine; but the wild, hurrying thought of the man who was pursuing her, brought with it a sharp intolerance of her own weakness. " I wish to cross the sea," she declared, the com- manding power in her eyes rivalling the anger now t) A SPANISH MAID 17 gleaming in theirs. " I wish to sail to another land. Your vessel will soon be on its way, and I desire to sail in it." Her words which began so imperiously trailed off into a note of pleading, as the strength of her will recognised a still stronger will in these terrible men ; but when she had ceased there was silence. The paUid brows of the men were scowling ; a narrow line of clenched teeth showed from between their lips, but they uttered no sound. Then suddenly they started to their feet, and with gripped hands stood before her, and the boat swayed perilously, and the girl's heart thumped as if to choke her. She had been in desperate straits and disinclined to cavil at any means which could bring her to a stranger-land, but between the ever-present terror which was so surely following her across the plains, and these ghastly men who faced her with death in their eyes, she quivered for a moment as with some bodily sickness, her heart shrank small, and she felt that the touch of these clear, white fingers would throw her shrieking into madness. With her eyes riveted on the eyes which glared back into hers she crouched in the bows, while the silence seemed most awful, and, in it, her own words struck back on her ears, and echoed and hung upon the hot air. B i8 A SPANISH MAID Then, with a hellish look on his face, the nearer man started forward to seize her; his swelled hand clawed the air and almost clutched her ; but with one dominant instinct impelling her — to escape that touch — she sprang back quickly and turned to jump from the boat into the water as it gently lapped against the prow. In an instant the second man had gripped his fellow by the shoulder, and again they stood in silence with but their attitudes rearranged — one pallid man in the grip of the other, the girl with her foot on the edge of the swaying boat ready to plunge, and the hot morning sun shining merrily down on all. As they stood, in this wise, waiting for Fate to dictate the next move, a mournful wail came to them across the waters. The men turned their eyes towards the dark ship, and they noted that she was ready to heave anchor and move upon her way. Then again they turned and looked back at the stretch of sea to be retraced if they were to rid themselves of this girl. And the quay was far, and the ship was near ; and, grinding their teeth in silent rage, they took their oars again and pulled swiftly towards the vessel. In this fashion Fate dictated ; and the girl's future moved a step closer. Whether in rehef or terror she must go forward now in the power of the men she had thought to cajole ; and she crouched again in the bow jn silence. A SPANISH MAID 19 When the boat reached the high, black side of the ship the men cHmbed swiftly up to the deck leaving Teresa to follow as she could. At the top of the ladder many faces were gathered to confront her — sullen, amazed, resentful faces — but she was there, on their deck, with a stretch of sea on every side, and, despite their anger, they were forced to let her be ; there was no time now for the bandying of words. The light winds springing up were not to be wasted for a girl's whims ; and the anchor was raised, the sails flapped, then slowly swelled in the capricious breeze, and the square-rigged vessel glided slowly over the waters, with the silent, white-faced crew to guide her on her way. And the Spaniard stood alone and apart, with an alert look, half-fear, half-triumph in her dark eyes. That white-faced crew chilled her very blood when they moved near to her, but she was free, she had escaped, she was sailing to other lands ; and the voyage could not last for ever. Some dark, unhallowed souls, it has been told, roam ever, accursed and void of peace, over the broad, deep waters of the world, crying aloud in some rare periods, out of their unbearable anguish, but more often sailing on, with stern and pallid faces, betraying by no sign, nor cry, nor tremor the agony scorching in their 20 A SPANISH MAID veins and tearing their souls. So did this dark, evil- seeming ship, with its deathlike crew, move slowly over the face of the ocean, silent and awful, as a floating casket of Death's trophies, a group of lost, tortured souls ; but for that one figure of Uving discord, a spot of garish brilliance, crude against the gloomy pallor — glowing, half-triumphant; standing out as a spirit quick with evil, in a company of still, enduring sin. Time was unheeded on board the black ship. Night and day went unregarded. On, and on, and always on, over an endless waste of waters. And when the fervid shores of Spain had suddenly faded from sight came no more shores, no signs of life nor means of living ; nothing but boundless, heaving water. Always water, always silence ; always a gloomy, unseen presence, as of Death, hovering in the air. And the past lengthened, and the future drew nearer, as the ship moved on, and in the present there sat that vivid figure upon the dark deck, reckless, yet half-fearful. And the pale men passed and repassed her as they went about their work ; and she saw that they hated her, and she knew that if a finger's touch from their clear hands should fall upon her she must shriek in terror. Yet, so long as the finger's touch did not fall upon her, nor the eyes do more than glower, she laughed at their awesome faces, and her own eyes glittered A SPANISH MAID 21 cruelly as she filled in the grave of the one tenderness her heart had ever known — the love for her mother — and buried it for ever. And the sky above, and the waters below, were just two wide, unbounded stretches of changeless blue. "I dream — in very truth, I dream," the girl would murmur, "and yet this is no dream." And at length, after a spell of time — moments, or days, or hours — of strange unreality, Teresa rose from the coil of black ropes on which she had rested, and, tossing aside her fear, kept only the recklessness. A wild heed- lessness possessed her. She paced the deck lightly, to and fro, to and fro, spreading her hands to the empty air, singing gay snatches of the passionate wander- songs she had learned from her mother. It pleased her to hear her own full notes, from defiant rise to mournful cadence, cut the great silence, to stretch her limbs in protest of her Uberty. It gave her courage ; and with the courage came pleasure, as she noted the angry amazement of the crew as they gazed upon her. But even as she noted it, a sudden wild change rolled across the sky and fell upon the water. The strange spell of peace which her voice had broken passed away. A fierce anger seemed to fill the air, tearing the sky and lashing the sea. The ship heaved and lurched 22 A SPANISH MAID as it met the boiling waves ; the foam seethed round about its prow. Across the heavens flamed a jagged line of fire, fearful and continuous. The masts creaked and shivered ; the loose canvas billowed and struck with cracks as of pistol shots, then was rent with a tear- ing moan as of a human voice in anguish. And the wind roared, and boomed, and wailed; and the merry sun shrouded his face in awe. Teresa, with her lithe arms still outstretched, the mocking smile in her eyes and her gay song yet in her throat, stood suddenly still in unutterable wonder, half-fancying that some mad chorus had clashed forth to swell her song. But in a moment the sense of danger overwhelmed her, and she ran from side to side of the ship in a panic of fear, crying aloud for help and comfort in her terror. But as she faced the silent men a yet greater terror fell upon her — terror of a fate crueller and more sure than wind, or waves, or fire ; for a row of fierce, implacable, white faces met her eyes, and hatred, fury, and threat of death came towards her in every silent breath. For a moment she stood, blanched and cowering, with her heart all weak and small in her shivering body, as she looked into the unyielding eyes and read the strength of their determination. She had forced her way to their ship; she had A SPANISH MAID 23 defied and ignored them ; she had paced their silent decks in her noisy insolence, her eyes flashing, her arms waving, and her wild songs surging to the sea and sky. And the sea and sky had answered her evil incantations with anger and vengeance. Were they, this hopeless vessel's hopeless crew, to suffer the wrath of Heaven for her sinfulness as well as for their own? Were they to be swept from their one small foothold by the blasphemous mockery of an unbidden demon? They glared and snarled at her with their pale eyes and swelled, clear lips, and looking back at them she seemed to read her doom. " Ah ! " she shrieked in terror, as her heart grew faint and her limbs rigid, " let me go from you ! Let me go!" At the sound of her voice they rushed towards her, and then, in the horror and dread of their touch her heart beat again madly ; again she moved her lips to shriek, but her voice seemed to have died, and she staggered back, frenzied and desperate, to the ship's side. But there, against a coil of cordage, lay a keen- bladed hatchet, and, in an instant, she had seized it, and was cleaving the air wildly, brandishing it in the desperate faces now closely confronting her. But scorn- ful of one girl's puny strength, they closed upon her, their lank hair blowing in the gale, their ghastly features 24 ^ SPANISH MAID lighted by the flames which shot across the sky. The strength against the girl was overwhelming, but her mad fear forced her to attempt defence, and raising the hatchet high to her head she brought it down heavily upon the arm stretched first to clutch her. Then, above the roar and tumult of the storm her shrieks rose again, wild and panic-stricken, for the shock of the blow came thrilling back through her arteries. The deck shook as if its timbers were tearing asunder ; and with glaring, dilated eyes she saw that the gaping wound which the steel had left upon the outstretched arm was white and bloodless as the outer skin. Then, still shrieking, Teresa felt the cold, thick hands fasten upon her, gripping her arms and congealing her surging blood. The horror of it turned her faint and cold, impotent to resist the strength ranged against her, unable even to spring to the waves which rose to the deck to meet her. And the tempest raged, and the black ship rolled, as the dumb sailors dragged the Spaniard to the side to hurl her down into the seething waters. But, as they raised her in their arms, a scorching glare of light blazed upon them all, searching the very hearts of the passionate men ; and the ghastly remembrance of a terrible past raged in them. With one impulse they stayed their hands; the girl swayed back, and there A SPANISH MAID 25 fell on all things — sea, sky, and ship — a breathless pause. For a full minute it seemed that the whole world had died, and the men stood rigid, as fearful of the death as of the living presence of the Spaniard. Then again the hurricane tore across the sky ; the spell was broken ; and again the sailors gripped the girl, and, binding her with ropes, carried her shrieking to the hold. And the lightning shivered " across the sky, and the waters raged, and the dark ship flew before the roaring wind. CHAPTER III. ^ I "^HE fury of the storm was tremendous as it swept -*- over the point of Western England on that black September night, and Landecarrock village felt it in full measure. The wind tore, wailing, round the weather- stained church upon the cliif ; it bent the slanting tomb- stones yet lower to the earth. It bowed and buffeted the stunted trees which had battled bravely with so many storms before this night, snapping their weaker boughs with no measure of mercy. It shrieked angrily through the one narrow street; it deafened the quick ears of Peter Ludgven, the coastguard, as he struggled along the rugged cliff path, with his face turned seawards, sometimes crawl- ing on hands and knees round a more sheltered corner into the full blast of the hurricane and the drenching rain, sometimes sinking beside a broken hillock to draw a few breaths with some regularity ; and it soughed with angry, wailing sobs about the coastguard's cottage, where Mary Ludgven, his wife, sat at the uncurtained, rain-washed 26 A SPANISH MAID 27 window, pale and heavy-lidded with anxiety, and strained her eyes through the lattice into the wild darkness outside, rocking the cradle with her foot the while ; the slow, rhythmic movement belying the quick throbs of her troubled heart; for, in this bare end of the land, men had been hurled down from the cliff to the sea by the power of gentler storms than this. Peter Ludgven's wife was a calm, brave woman, but to watch and wait inactive comes near to heroism when there is love in the heart. As the night wore on it seemed to her ears that, above the shriek of the wind, she could hear shrieks of human voices, rising in wild calls or wailing in dire need. A great fear rose swelling in her throat and drained the blood from her lips, and again and again she left the cradle-side and went to the door. And then the sudden blast which met her would make her stagger with its strength, and pulHng the door close behind her, she would stand, all trembling with anxiousness, outside upon the doorstone. If the fibres of the ears could break with the tension of listening Mary Ludgven would have been a deaf woman from that night. Hearing was a treacherous sense in such a hurricane, but she stood and battled with the gale and with her own agony of mind, and the rain beat down and drenched her. At length came a lull, and, in spite of straining ears, she could hear 28 A SPANTSH MAID nothing of the voices which had drawn her from her small son's side in the face of Peter's wishes, and she went back to the warm kitchen and again sat by the uncurtained window with eyes turned to the storm, and with white face and gripped hands endured the pain of waiting. But the night hours wore away at last, and with the dawn the shrieks of the wind grew fainter, dying into sobs, first passionate, then quite gentle. The morning light showed a grey and sullen sky ; the sea was grey and sullen, too, dashing high and foamy up the straight, dark cliffs. But across the storm - clouds in the east there broke a bar of wonderful metal - bright glory. The air was fresh, and smelling sweet of sodden turf and rain-drenched thyme ; the garden paths were strewn with torn leaves and broken twigs ; the summer greenery, which had withstood the storm's buffetings, hung all wet and shining from the rain ; and the little pink monthly roses over the porch were storm-faint, and washed, and drooping, when Peter Ludgven, drenched to the skin, and ruddy with the rough treatment of the gale, came safely home to his wife. "You never ought to a-married me, Peter," she said, quietly, with a beautiful, glad light in her eyes. " I'm too fearsome for a coastguard's wife." " I couldn't help it, Mary Ludgven," he protested. A SPANISH MATD 29 laughing, as he took her, baby and all, into his strong arms, " an' now 'tis too late." '"Twas a most terrible night, Peter," she half- whispered, her head resting against his shoulder. " We haven't had nothin' like it since we was married. An' I sat there by the window most all the time, waitin' for the mornin's light to come, an' all afraid what 'twould show when 'twas here. I b'leeve if anythin' had a- happened — oh, my dear, my dear " she broke off in little sobbing laughs. "Come, Mary, 'tisn' so bad as all that my dear. Here'm I come back to 'ee all safe an' sound. 'Tis you'm most like to be leavin' me to live a widder- man, I'm thinkin'," he declared cheerily. " You'm weak with watchin'. Now I'll be off to slip out of my wet things, an' then I'm ready for what's smellin' so good over there on the peats." Mary Ludgven frowned a quick, smiling frown of self-condemnation as she moved from Peter's arms and seated the baby in his cradle. " Here'm I crakin' an' cryin' when you'm starvin' with cold an' hunger," she exclaimed. "But I didn't forget 'ee so bad as all that \ breakfast will be ready by time you'm in your dry things." In the comfort of the breaking sunlight, and the food, and cheerful kitchen, together with the sight of Peter 30 A SPANISH MAID at the other end of the table, and the baby contentedly chewing his fists in the cradle, Mary Ludgven forgot some of the suspense of the night hours, and ate and smiled till a flush of colour came back to her cheeks, and her hands ceased from trembling. "You must take a rest, now, Mary," urged Peter, as he followed her up the steep, wooden stairs with his son, Zel — short for Ezekiel — in his arms. "Rest!" she laughed, "with that flaygerrying child calling out to be washed an' dressed ! " And she caught him from his father's hold, and tossed him till he crowed and chuckled in as thorough a manner as his pleasure and his breath would allow. "You'll be dyin' with sleep before long," he pro- tested. " No ; cold water's best for me now. I couldn't keep still if I was paid to." And when her face was all wet and rosy with the cold spring water, and the drops hung on her fair, silken hair, Peter kissed her laughingly, for she re- minded him, he said, of the hedges and gardens when the storm was safe over. And then she left him to the sleep he had earned, and went downstairs to her daily work. As she moved about her stone -flagged kitchen, singing softly to the small son who sat in his cradle A SPANTSH MAID 3 1 and ignored everything but the string of empty cotton reels which he strove to wind about his own pink toes, a hand gently lifted the latch and the door opened. " Hist ! Mary," came a whisper, " Peter back all right?" Mary looked up from her big brown basin of flour, and saw 'Zekiel — her brother — at the open door-latch, with a look of quick enquiry on his handsome, boyish face. "Yes, Peter's back, safe and sound, thanks be. Come in, 'Zekiel, an' shut the door ; you mustn' keep the boy in that draught." " 'Twas a night ! " remarked 'Zekiel, as he did as he was bidden and crossed over to the open hearth, heaving that sigh of admiration paid to excessive fury by the simple-minded. " I was just goin' down to the beach to see if there's anythin' to be seen ; 'tisn' likely nothin's the worse for such a gale as that. I thought I'd just look fore to see if Peter had a-got back." " He's up restin' now a bit. He's had a tryin' time, lately. People hereabouts ain't so clean-handed as they'd have folks believe ; and 'tisn' no child's-play coast- guardin', I can tell that much." "No, that's truth," agreed 'Zekiel, as he leaned over 32 A SPANISH MAID the cradle and pinched his nephew's pink toes with his own brown fingers. " Well, I'll be off," he said at length, as Mary freed her hands of flour, and turned to stir the peats. "But, if Peter's restin', you might so well come along with me an' have a look at the sea; 'tis grand now, sure enough, an' the air is mild as milk." Mary glanced slowly from the clock in the corner to the sunlight on the garden. " I don't mind if I do," she said. " I don't feel like sleepin' at all. You mind Zel while I put the bread to rise, an' then I'll come." To the high point of the sloping cliff they mounted and stood on the wet, green turf to watch the spumy waters beneath as they seethed and dashed over the face of the rocks ; and the sun brightened everything with his great morning smile, as if he delighted to look merrily upon another's fury. After watching the waters for some minutes, 'Zekiel left his sister's side and strolled along close to the edge of the cliff; while she, resting after the quick walk from the cottage, looked away over the sea; and then, forgetting the grandeur of it all, looked back again at the white stones marking the coastguard's uneven cliff path, and thought of Peter. Mary Ludgven had been born and bred in Lande- A SPANISH MAID 33 carrock, had followed its manners and abided by its fashions, and birth and breeding, manner and fashion, had done well for her, for she was a beautiful woman. A veritable Madonna she looked, standing there with the wild, torn sky above her, the roaring water below, and the morning sun and the morning mist making almost a halo about her — a peaceful figure in the midst of the signs of past tumult. A large, fair woman with a grave, contented face, her golden hair parted over her broad, white forehead, her smooth cheeks slightly pale from the anxious night-watch^ but with a faint colour creeping back to them ; her eyes as wells of colour, deep and tranquil. The gown she wore was of dark blue woollen stuff, and knotted about her shoulders was a loose black kerchief, leaving her white throat bare; and in her arms she held her little son. Presently, back over the short, sodden turf came 'Zekiel, hurrying towards her, calling to her as he came and pointing out to sea. Her eyes followed the direction of his hand, and then she saw, looming through the sunny mist, a large, dark, square-rigged ship, and she shivered, as with an ague, as her eyes fell upon it. "A queer-lookin' craft," panted 'Zekiel, as he reached her side. " I don't know as ever I saw such a riggin' before." 34 A SPANISH MAID They stood and watched the dark ship, and a strange unreality in the sight seemed to rob them of words. The high, dark bows and oddly-shaped sails had loomed so suddenly through the mist, and were coming so perilously near the rocks ; yet the vessel was neither wrecked nor drifting, and no signal for aid or information came from her crew. " Look, look ! " cried Mary, suddenly, in a harsh whisper. And 'Zekiel looked, and again they stood there silent, their eyes riveted on the ship below. What they saw was quickly over and past, but the strangeness and cowardice of it seemed to scorch deep into their brains, as if they had been looking on at the scene for hours in wonder and growing rage. The tall, gloomy ship drew nearer and nearer, until, as Mary and 'Zekiel looked down on her, she seemed to be almost underneath the cliff on which they stood, and they saw that about her deck moved a ghastly-faced crew, busy casting anchor and lowering a boat. When this was done a slight scarlet figure was dragged, struggling and shrieking, upon the deck, fighting and beating with clenched hands till held and pinioned by the sailors who lifted it, still struggling and shrieking, over the vessel's side, and lowered it to the boat which lay tossing on the yet angry sea. Several other figures, clambering down swiftly to the boat loosed the rope and A SPANISH MAID 35 began to pull straight towards a little spit of sand to the left of the cliff on which the watchers stood. There was something of anger and of horror in the eyes and hearts of Mary and 'Zekiel as they watched the boat's course, and saw the scarlet figure held writhing in the arms of the sailors. " Is it a mazed woman they'm bringin' ashore ? " gasped 'Zekiel, in a hoarse, strained voice. But when the boat grated on the line of shingly beach the rowers made no attempt to land and seek aid from the village in their need, whatever it might be. Lifting the fighting, furious figure with some rough handling, they flung it from them on to the beach as one would fling a bale of wool, and above the roar of the breakers came the wild shrieks again and again, as the creature sprang up and clung to them, clutching and tearing in its fury. But again they flung it back with cruel, white hands, and, pushing the boat off from the beach in haste, rowed quickly back towards the ship. The cruelty and cowardice of the end of this scene sent the blood seething hot and quick in 'Zekiel's veins, and he tore along the cliff till he reached the narrow foot- path leading to the beach below and clambered down it recklessly. But he reached it too late to lay hands upon the boat's crew, for the whole scene had taken but a few moments in the acting, and a stretch 36 A SPANISH MAW of foamy breakers already lay between boat and shore. There, on the sand, however, face downwards, lay the scarlet form, crying aloud, and clutching and tear- ing at the sand and shingle in a passion of baffled fury. 'Zekiel's heart was full and his fists eager against the brutes whose savage work he had watched, and within him welled a great sympathy toward the castaway. Hurrying to it in its grief, he knelt upon the shingle and raised it in his arms. "Don't 'ee, don't 'ee, my dear," he began in passionate consolation. And then his voice died, and words would not come ; he sat back on his heels and his arms trembled round about their burden, but he neither rose nor loosened his clasp. She was so wonderful, this creature which he held in the hollow of his arms. She was so beautiful with a beauty he had never dreamed of. Her eyes, with the fury still blazing in them, looked back into his eyes ; her long, black hair fell back from her face and his fingers were wound in its meshes ; her red lips were parted in the end of rage and the beginning of wonder, and one warm, brown arm lay against his trembling hand. For many minutes he knelt there, and the roar of the breakers was in his ears, booming and thundering. A SPANISH MAID 37 Half-consciously he longed for the roar to cease ; it was surging in his head and deafening him ; the volume of sound was swelling and crashing maddeningly. For a moment the beach on which he knelt seemed to rise and sway, and a thin mist floated between his eyes and the eyes which flashed back at him. And then it seemed that the silence he had longed for had come. A great pause seemed to have fallen on every- thing. He heard nothing; an absolute peace seemed to surround him, and he knelt there as if spellbound, looking down on the wonderful face of the stranger-girl who lay in his arms. And, as he looked, his boyish face changed; the youngness and the brightness of it seemed to pass from his to hers, and as her angry eyes softened and smiled up at him with a languorous pleasure, his eyes grew hard and eager. The sudden shriek of a lonely sea-bird roused him at length ; he started, and the roar and thunder of the sea came back to his ears. Then the stranger-girl lowered her dark-fringed lids slowly over her smiling eyes, and, drawing his gaze from her face, 'Zekiel remembered her wrongs and looked out over the waves. But the evil ship which he had thought to see was invisible; between his eyes and it there had dropped a thick, white curtain of mist. Ship, and boat, and crew had vanished utterly, and as far as eye 38 A SPANISH MAID could see, the waves and the land were lonely, and dim, and desolate. Mary Ludgven, watching and waiting on the cliff above, saw at last two figures coming slowly up the cliff path towards her, a boy half-leading, half-supporting a girl — 'Zekiel and the castaway. And even as she watched, all eager to help and comfort the sufferer, her eyes noted suddenly that the boy's face had changed, had grown older; the roundness was gone, and the young, careless glance from the eyes ; and, with a curious shock of wonder, she realised that 'Zekiel was no longer her boy-brother. But the eyes of the girl at his side were glowing with ardent youth. " What is it, 'Zekiel ? What does it all mean ? " she cried as she went towards them. " Devilment ! " said 'Zekiel slowly, with his eyes still resting on the girl's beauty. "Are you hurted?" asked Mary of the stranger. But the stranger only smiled sadly and slowly shook her head. "Bring her along home, 'Zekiel; she's bruised and shaken. I can't make out such doin's. Come home an' let us tell Peter 'bout it all." And turning their faces from the shrouded sea they went down the hill in silence. A SPANISH MAID 39 "What outlandish bem' have 'ee got there, Mary Ludgven ? " Over the low cob wall which separated Betty Higgins's back garden from the path, leaned Ann Vitty, Betty's grandmother, gossiping with her favoured cronieS; Luke Tregay and Daniel Laskey, who leaned against the outer side and slanted towards her from their sticks, as loosely-staked heliotropes towards their sun. This cob wall was Ann Vitty's saloft, where she and Luke Tregay met to talk over old times and new manners, and hailed the passers-by with cheery garrulity, enduring the proofs of their degeneration from the former state of things for the sake of their tidings of the latter. Here, too, mild-eyed Daniel Laskey, sexton, joined them, and added to the pleasantness of the meeting by his intelligent silence. It was Ann Vitty's thin, sharp voice which greeted Mary as she neared the corner by the big fuchsia bush. "Well, 'tis 'Zekiel's jetsam," answered Mary, trying to smile back at the three old faces. " Jetsam ! " cried Luke Tregay ; " queer jetsam that! What be 'ee goin' to do with it now you've a-got it?" "I dunno what to do," confessed Mary. "We dunno yet who the maid is, or where she comes from. 40 A SPANISH MAW but we'm goin' to take her home an' tell Peter. He'll know what's best to be done." " Take her home ! " repeated Ann Vitty, looking the stranger up and down with a dubious glance as she passed on slowly, leaning on 'Zekiel's arm. "'Tisn' no business of mine, for sure, but, if you ask me, I should say ' Don't 'ee.' As a figger-head, now, she wouldn' come amiss, but as comp'ny in your own house, I say, I wouldn' if I was you." " Wreckage of that sort never did nobody no good," remarked Luke Tregay, " not to my knowledge." "But life's life, Luke," protested Mary, with rather a wan smile. " Maybe, maybe," he allowed, with some hesitation, *' but sometimes we'd be as well pleased if 'twasn'." " I didn' know there was wrecks," remarked Ann Vitty. "We never heard no tidin's of 'em." " No, 'tisn' no wreck," Mary explained ; " 'tis a sort of castaway matter, I'm thinkin'; only me an' 'Zekiel saw it. But I must be hurryin' on, for 'twas a wicked deed, sure enough, and the maid mus'n' lack a welcome." " H'm," ejaculated Daniel Laskey, looking con- templatively at the dandelion root he had been boring with his stick ; but Ann Vitty and Luke Tregay clothed their forebodings in more forcible language A SPAmSH MAID 41 as they watched the three figures along the path and up the Httle hill to the coastguard's cottage. The comments of Ann Vitty and Luke Tregay roused Mary Ludgven to a realisation of the coldness and scant welcome which lay in her own heart, and she tried to say some kindly and comforting words now and again to the shivering girl as they walked back to the little whitewashed home on the side of the hill, but all the while her heart was heavy with an unaccountable fear as she glanced from the stranger to 'Zekiel, and saw his flushed cheeks and set lips ; and she shrank with an unreasoning presentiment of ill from the vivid, alluring face of the girl who leaned so closely upon the boy's protecting arm. CHAPTER IV. TT was when 'Zekiel had placed his wonderful living ■'- jetsam in Peter's roomy chair before the blazing peats that he first realised the barrier which rose between himself and her. Taking the bright shawl from her shoulders, all damp with sea-water, he pleaded, in a voice which fell strange on Mary's ears, "Tell us of the brutes who served 'ee so." But the girl, smiling back at him, opened her lips for the first time since he had raised her from the sand, and spoke in quick, tripping syllables which were to him as strange and incomprehensible as the notes of some foreign bird; carrying no meaning to him, but the one hard fact that between him and her stood an unscaleable barrier — the barrier of an unknown tongue. He stood dumb before the bitter irrevocableness of it, with pain and a sharp hopeless- ness weighing at the corners of his lips. This sudden limitation of his joy seemed unjust and unendurable. 42 A SPANISH MAW 43 A sense of impotence and a new half-realised misery swelled in his heart and robbed him of words. But the girl, laying her hand on his arm, smiled again into his eyes with a smile which seemed to need no words, and some of the bitterness of circumstance melted for a while. And Mary, bringing warm food and heaping the peat upon the hearth, felt as if the whole scene must be a dream from which she would suddenly awake — but a long, long dream which had been with her for dull, weary hours ; and when she strove to rouse her- self and think of the old, ordinary life, or of the stormy night and the relief of the morning, it seemed to her that those things had happened years ago, and had become dim and faded in her mind. A dogged war was being fought out in her heart — reason against instinct, humanity wrestling with revulsion — and she forced her hands towards hospitality that they might not take the stranger and thrust her out from her doorway and from the sight of the eager boy at her side. But the stranger knew nothing of this war, or made no sign of the knowledge, as she sat in the glow of the peats, drinking hot broth and shedding soft glances on Mary, and 'Zekiel, and little Zel, with a fine impartiality. When Peter came down the stairs, cheerful from 44 A SPANISH MAID his sleep, and damp-haired and glowing from his sousing in cold water, he stood at the foot in wonder- ment at the unexpected scene before him, and looked at his wife with questions in his eyes. Step- ping quickly towards him, Mary, in low and pitiful tones, told of what had happened ; dwelling on the cruelty of the sailors and the helpless plight of the castaway with a warmth and eagerness unusual to her quiet tongue, as if by convincing others of the girl's wrongs and necessity she might touch the core of her own humanity. And the girl herself, seeming to divine the meaning of the words, laid down her spoon, and with one hand resting lightly on 'Zekiel's arm to stay his generosity, looked up at the coastguard with a mingling of pleading and confidence in her big eyes. For some moments Peter stood looking back at her in silence, while Mary glanced from one to the other with a strange unrest at her heart; then he went over to the girl, and, taking her brown little hand in both his own, said slowly: "You'm welcome." For reply the stranger only looked up at him pathetically and shook her head. And 'Zekiel finished the tale which Mary had begun, telling of that which, to him, seemed the saddest part of all — the bafifling, incomprehensible language. A SPANISH MAW 45 Again Peter looked at the girl, this time in rueful silence, running his fingers through his damp curls in the stress of his perplexity ; but his was never a desponding nature, and in time his courage brought him some inspiration. Standing before her, drawn to his full height, and with an eagerness on his face which commanded her whole attention, he looked about for some object on which to begin his plan ; finally, pointing to his wife, he pronounced in two broad, distinct syllables her name, " Ma — ry." Again and again he said it, and after a while a quick compre- hension leaped to the girl's eyes, and laughingly she repeated, with a short, babyish accent, " Ma — ri. Ma — ri, Ma— ri." Peter chuckled with satisfaction and persevered, for this was a brave beginning. With a slow, waving forefinger, and a solemn nod of his head at each syllable, he pointed to his brother-in-law, and pronounced '"Zekiel." And now the girl smiled broadly, and his second success was equal to his first. Then, with his big hand flat upon his own blue jersey, he gave her, "Pe — ter," with slow distinctness, and she echoed the name without a hesitating letter; while Mary and 'Zekiel marvelled at the brilliance of the mind which could conceive such a notion, and felt many degrees more comfortable. When Peter had finished this, his first lesson in 46 A SPANISH MAID the intricacies of his mother-tongue, the stranger-girl rose from her chair, and smiHng trustfully upon them all, tapped her own breast lightly with the broth spoon. "Teresa, Teresa, Te — re — sa," she said, turning from one to the other. And they repeated "Te — re — sa," with slow, clumsy tongues, till, appar- ently satisfied, she sank back into her chair with a pleased sigh and yielded her attention once more to her broth and to 'Zekiel's importunity. For a while longer Peter looked at her, with his whole brain twisted to the shape of questions which could bring no answers ; then he crossed to the window and looked thoughtfully out over the geraniums on the ledge to the storm-battered garden beyond. His heart was big enough to welcome half-a-hundred cast- aways into his home and give them pity for their hard lot, but it was the right and the wrong of the matter which began to trouble him. "She'd fret herself mazed," he decided mournfully. " Cast out 'pon a strange spot, took to a strange house, and kept by a lot of strange folk ; with' no manner of means of goin' back home again ! An' how can I set about her goin' back home again, when I don't so much as know her ABC? Law ! " he declared awesomely, " Babel would have drove me mazed in no time." Up the hill path towards the cottage two figures were A SPANISH MAID 47 moving, an old man and a little girl, sauntering as folks will saunter in those parts of the land where timepieces are mainly kept for ornament, and the winding of them is considered as encouraging a reckless waste of mechanism. The old man had somewhat the look of an ascetic Romish priest, slender bodied and clean-shaven of face ; but the old grey waterproof coat which he wore loose, its long skirts waving in the breeze, made a most unpriestlike garment, and the mild eyes and placid lines about the mouth pointed to a less severe creed than that of Rome. With one hand he now and again Hfted his broad-brimmed hat from his brow, as if for ease and the play of the breeze ; in the other hand he carried a little tin box. The child at his side was fair- faced and demure, and wore a cloak of grey duffel, hooded round her small grave features. A particularly prolonged wave of the grey coat skirts caught Peter's wide abstracted gaze, and brought it back to a nearer focus, and, with the quickness of the man who knows the value of tide turns, he hurried out of the door and along the garden path to meet the wearer. " Passon, sir," he appealed, " will 'ee be so good as to come 'fore to my house. I'm put about a brave bit over a matter of — of — ^jetsam." The old man smiled, a mild, slow smile, as he turned in at the gate, 48 A SPANISH MAID " Coastguarding brings its troubles to you, it seems, as well as to your natural enemies, the villains," he re- marked. " Ursula, my dear, better follow me." As he came in at the doorway the parson lifted his broad, soft hat. ' Good-day, Mary — I may still call her Mary, Peter ? Good-day, 'Zekiel. Ah ! " With the intuition of the man who has lived among wrecks and finds no cargo surprising, his eyes fell on Teresa. " The wreckage, Peter?" he queried. Then, bowing to the stranger with a certain courtHness, " Good-day, madam," he said. " Passon," declared Peter, " that's what I wanted to tell 'ee about. Her don't know what you'm saying. Her can't make 'ee out. Her can't make none of us out when we talks to her. Her's foreign, sir." " Ah ! indeed, indeed. Poor maid ! poor maid ! But I have heard nothing of a wreck ; no sound awoke me, no word reached me." Teresa gave her empty basin and spoon into 'Zekiel's hands, and resting her dark head on the cushions of Peter's chair, looked up with smiling interest at the parson's mouth as he shaped his words. "No, sir, there wasn' no wreck," said Peter. "'Zekiel can tell 'ee the story best, for 'Zekiel was there to see it. To my mind it's a black bit of business." " I can tell 'ee what I seed, sir," cried 'Zekiel, A SPANISH MAW 49 turning to the parson, "but I can't tell 'ee why 'twas done." His hands clenched themselves unconsciously as he recalled the work of the morning. Ursula stepped softly to the cradle side, where Zel — left for the first time without an audience — was keeping up a continuous murmur of soft, sleepy protests. Teresa turned her eyes from the parson's mouth to 'Zekiel's, and all waited for the " black " story. "I was standing on the chff," he went on, "looking out towards the Dinnis Rock. There was a bit of mornin' mist about, but, as far as eye could see, there wasn' a sail, or a mast, or an oar above water. Then, all to once, through the mist, there showed out a big, ugly-looking black ship ; an' so curious-looking she was I called out to Mary, an' we watched her together." The parson laid his little tin box on the table and crossed one forefinger on the other as he listened. Ursula had sunk on her knees by the cradle, and was rocking it gently as she smoothed Zel Ludgven's fat arm, he having merged his protests into dream-coos. The others looked at 'Zekiel's, tense face and waited, as he paused before the thought of the ship's ugly work. "Soon," he went on, "she slid out of the fog an' came runnin' in, closer than ever I've seed a vessel run in before, an' her crew cast anchor an' lowered a boat. D 5o A SPANISH MAID An' then, up from somewhere down below, they dragged this poor maid, an' all cryin', an' sobbin', an' strugglin' as she was, they hauled her down into the boat an' held her there, gripped as if she'd been a wild thing. An' so they pulled for Averack Cove. An' when I'd a-thought they was goin' to land an' ask help from Landecarrock for some poor mazed soul, they dragged her up from the bottom of the boat an' heaved her on to the shingle as if she'd a-been a log. An' when she rose an' cried for help an' mercy they beat her down again, an' then they pulled away from Averack beach with never a word for her, nor a morsel of food, nor a penny-piece. An' the faces of 'em was gashly. An' I ran down the cliff path more as if I was flyin', an' there I found the maid, an' " the anger slid out of his voice suddenly and his words slowed into an unconscious, spoken caress, " an' she wasn' no mazed woman at all." " Dear me ! dear me ! " murmured the parson dreamily. "These signs of racial " "An' the ship?" asked Peter, with sudden re- collection of his calling. "When I looked up again," said 'Zekiel, with a certain shamefacedness in his truth-telling, "the fog had a-dropped to the very breakers, an' the boat an' the ship was gone." " Most curious! Most curious!" remarked the parson. A SPANISH MAID 51 "And tell me, Ezekiel, were there no points in the vessel's rigging, or in the dress or bearing of the crew by which you could determine the nationality ? " "No, sir, I didn' never seem to have seen the like before." " It is a curious and interesting study," mused the parson aloud, as he clasped his thin hands beneath his coat skirts and slowly paced the small kitchen, "the different forms, and lines, and curves by which the different countries betray their several tastes, and traits, and progress in civilisation. The opulent East, for instance, displaying in everything, from its archi- tecture to its most trivial manufacture, those curves " "Curves!" interrupted 'Zekiel hotly, "they was devils ! " The parson started from his musings. "Devils are not without curves," he affirmed, with his mild smile, " if all we are told is true. If," he continued, turning to Teresa, " the maiden would speak again, I might gather from her accents some hint of her nationality, or from the formation of her words some clue to the race from which she springs. But I fear she will not use a language with which I am familiar." "Teresa, Teresa," said Peter, appealing to the girl, " talk to the parson some ; do 'ee now, co'." 52 A SPANISH MAID " Madam," ventured the parson, " I would ask you to speak a few words to me." The girl looked from one to the other. Then, seeing that they waited as for an answer to a question, she broke once more into her quick, soft syllables, smiling the while, until her long, black eyes were almost closed. "Ah," sighed the parson, smiling back indulgently in the face of it, "it is neither Greek, nor Latin, nor Hebrew; nor is it, I conjecture, of Teutonic origin. In all probability the maiden is of Gaelic extraction. It is a curious and interesting fact," he continued, turning his gentle eyes on Peter, "that to a close student of the races there would be but slight difficulty in classifying the nationality of ninety out of a hundred human beings, by a short, I might almost say a cursory, observation of the features. To my but imperfectly trained eye this maiden in question appears to have more kinship with the southern Euro- pean peoples — say Italy, or Spain, or Portugal — than with any African or Asiatic tribes." " 'Tis a pity for her, poor thing ! " murmured Mary, "to be so far from home." But 'Zekiel looked at the girl with no agreement in his eyes. " In the course of the coming week," continued the A SPANISH MAID 53 parson, "I shall be travelling into Haliggan on a small matter of research, and, while there, I will endeavour to meet with some person fluent in foreign languages who could give us aid. In the meanwhile if I, myself, can relieve or aid in any way, come, or send, without hesitation to the Parsonage, and I shall be pleased to do all in my power." " Thank 'ee, passon, thank 'ee," replied Peter, know- ing well the honesty underlying the old man's formal words. "Of the perpetrators of the unholy deed we will say but little at present ; the sin is theirs and will not go unpunished ; but a sharp look-out when the fog has cleared somewhat more, and as full communication as is possible along the coast, might, perchance, accelerate that punishment. Meanwhile, my grand-daughter and I will continue our walk to the cairn, where we were taking a few tools and a frugal meal with us." He beamed, as he lifted his Httle tin box from the table. " If, as I have long suspected, there should be tracing or inscription at the base of the cross beside it, the rains of last night will have served to assist me in my search." "You'll pardon my stoppin' 'ee, sir," said Peter. "I am pleased, Peter, pleased that you did so. A father to my people first, an antiquarian afterwards, is 54 A SPANISH MAW what I would be; and this is a most curious and in- teresting incident. Good-day ! good-day. Ursula, my dear, we will proceed upon our way." Ursula, lifting her sober little face from the cradle, met Mary's grateful, troubled eyes, and blushed at the thought of her own monopoly of younger Ludgven, then, rising from her knees, she smiled gently on them all, and, with a half-fearful glance at the stranger- girl, followed the parson out into the sunshine again. When the garden gate had closed with its customary click the husband and wife each looked into the face of the other. " What do 'ee think of it, Mary ? " asked Peter, seeing the new anxiety in Mary's eyes as they two stood apart by the little flower-bedecked window. " I dunno, Peter, I dunno. 'Twas a wicked business, sure enough ; but her eyes burn so queer ; an' look at our 'Zekiel, he's like another creature ! " Peter, turning to look again at the couple by the hearth, saw 'Zekiel, the boisterous, outspoken, light- hearted fisher-boy, kneeling grave-faced and compassion- ate before the stranger-girl lying back languorously in the big chair, more as a knight of the Middle Ages paying homage to his lady, than a clumsy village boy striving to discover, without the aid of language. A SPANISH MAID 55 whether or no the pile of peat and gorse blazed too fiercely for the maid's comfort. " She's got a mortal pretty face — a mortal pretty face," said Peter slowly. " An' our 'Zekiel's struck down by her black eyes," he added, with a laugh. " To my mind he's fairly mazed about the maid already. But don't 'ee fret, my dear, he'll be right again afore his beard's full grown," Yet his own eyes grew suddenly serious. "'Tis truth, she's got a mortal pretty face," he murmured, as he turned away towards the door. Mary knew that he spoke truly ; the girl's fairness was beyond denial. But a load lay at her heart, unanalysed, scarcely realised, but a load, nevertheless; and she turned away from the m.aid's fair face, and bent over her cradle and sighed a heavy sigh. And 'Zekiel and the stranger, in the shine of the glowing peats, looked and smiled and went on looking, and found an eloquence in silence. CHAPTER V. ' 'TT EKIEL was mazed. ^—^ For the first time, since the red cow from Trelean church-town felt enterprise and walked eleven miles to sup on Landecarrock cabbages, the village was of one mind ', and its one mind declared that 'Zekiel Myners was mazed. Peter had said it that first day when he looked across his kitchen at the boy and the girl beside his hearth and saw them smiling upon each other, but he went his way and awaited the recovery with good- humoured tolerance. The fisher-boys agreed with Peter, and they laughed loudly and they jested freely when the knowledge came upon them, for 'Zekiel's whole-heartedness had been a weekly affront to them. Countless were the Sunday afternoons he had sat with his fellows on the bit of cob wall by the " look-out," the corner round which all the lovers passed on their way to Ten-Men's-Mound, there to decorate the hillocks with their several presences, and do their weekly wooing till 56 A SPANISH MAID 57 the time was come to pass down again and think of sustenance; and, on these countless Sunday afternoons, he had watched his line of company slide off one by one, some shamefacedly, some with a gallant air, to meet a maid and swell the irregular double file which slowly chmbed the hill ; and he had flung banter at their heels as he turned to sprawl more at ease on the space which they had left, and had found ample entertainment in his own thoughts or in the company of the one or two lovers who chanced to be unmatched or forsaken for the while. Now they found consolation in his surrender, and they watched and enjoyed his worship of the strange maid who draped her body in outlandish garments and spoke no single word clear to their under- standing. But the jests were kindly, and they also waited for the end of the mazedness, for with them these love-fevers usually ran a course, and the course was not limitless. Mary Ludgven, too, saw 'Zekiel's mazedness, but she saw in it more than the common lad's love-sickness. To her eyes the boy seemed to be as one lying under a spell. She saw his face grow old; she saw the lines drawn deeper and deeper about his mouth by the sharp point of his passion ; she saw his unrest, and the hunger which starved the old content from his eyes ; she felt that he was bowing heart and soul before the witcheries from 58 A SPANISH MAID which she could only shrink, and the worship seemed unnatural and horrible to her as the worship of a child for some vile god. And 'Zekiel — 'Zekiel did not dally to find a softer word than "mazedness." " Mazedness " was as good a word as " love," as he had learned to recognise love in the pranks and ponderous gambollings of the pairs who rounded the corner by the " look-out " on Sunday afternoons. If that poor, common preference was *' love," " love " was no word for the wonderful thing which was overfilling his heart — the tearing pain, the blazing joy, which was no mere mad South passion crushing down obstacles, nor the dogged affection of a Northerner, plodding, and bearing, and hoping ; it was neither, with the elements of both. A great, clear, fierce fire, scorching and comforting, dropping balm on his heart as it seared it, forcing a great, voiceless cry from his soul; a passion restrained, a longing held back by reverence, a worship fired by impulse ; an overwhelming, unutterable, incomparable force, which he joyed in, and endured, and suffered, and hugged close in his big, boyish heart, and would not have parted with if he could. The emotion had its drawbacks. It was even apt to harass the mortal who inspired it; while, as to the scene in which it was lived through, that spot became A SPANISH MAID 59 haunted by a spirit of discomfort and unrest, and the dwellers in it in time chafed under the innovation, and could give but scant sympathy; for they brought common-sense to bear upon the agitation, with the result that it received but a small meed of toleration while it stirred the present. The haze of time was needed to tone down the recollection of the discomfort and bring a mild compassion. So 'Zekiel, to friends and kinsfolk, was simply " mazed 'bout the furrin' maid " ; and they looked at his haggard face and thought and called him "fool for his pains." For all this 'Zekiel cared nothing. Teresa was the world for him ; nothing else mattered — nothing, except the language which balked him and shut him from her understanding; and, with a fine courage, he faced that, and set himself the task of teaching the words which should draw the girl close to him by-and-bye. " Speak to me, sweetheart. Speak with me heart to heart." That was 'Zekiel's prayer, but for two months he did not utter it, though through every minute of those two months he craved desperately to hear plain English words from the girl's tongue, and see the light of understanding in her eyes ; and the desire gripped at his throat sometimes, almost choking him, and his own 6o A SPANISH MAID heart grew over-big with all that he would say to her. But the pain was useless ; it accomplished nothing. He had no charmed wand to strike his own words with a soft blow upon her understanding. It could only be brought about slowly and by labour. So he strove to crush his heart back to some degree of patience ; and, every day when work was done, he would change his sea-stained clothes for his bettermost homespun and jersey, and, leaving his little lodgment under Betty Higgins' eaves, would climb the hill to Peter Ludgven's cottage, where Teresa was still sheltered, that he might struggle on with the teaching of his own broad syllables to her lilting tongue. And the pleasure of it ! The gladness of a new word mastered — a whole sentence achieved ! Each word was a separate victory. But even into the midst of the triumph there would creep the heart-sickness, and the craving for the time of her proficiency. Teresa, looking so often into her teacher's eyes, must have learned from them that other knowledge, too — the teaching he forced back from his tongue — but she did not resent it and she did not check it. Week after week she took his time, and his labour, and his homage, and gave him smiles for payment. Week after week, too, she lived placidly on Peter Ludgven's bounty, without a question or a scruple, content, too, to all seeming. A SPANISH MAID 6i until, as time passed by, the autumn sun passed with it, and each chilly day became a trial, and she shivered, and her red lips drooped pathetically. Mary, seeing this, pitied her, and piled peats on her hearth in reckless fashion, and hoped for a merciful winter ; soon, too, she forsook her cushioned chair by the ingle, and spoke of the greater comfort of a straight-backed chair when one must needs rock a cradle. So Teresa rested her languid Hmbs on Mary's cushions before the warmth of Mary's creating, and Mary took some comfort to herself from this small straining of the truth. She felt that it was good to be able to perform some tangible bit of hospitality ; it eased the compunction in her heart, and softened her self-reproach that she could not take kindly to the maid whom 'Zekiel had set his heart upon. " Speak with me, sweetheart ! Speak with me heart to heart ! " It was on a grey, misty November afternoon that 'Zekiel spoke his prayer aloud, and then poured out a torrent of quick, passionate love words, most of which were still meaningless to the girl. But Teresa was pettish and shivering that day. There was a touch of east in the wind and the sky hung low over the sea; her blood ran slow and her temper was short; and when the boy put out his big hands to clasp hers she 62 A SPANISH MAID frowned, and at his rough touch and the grasp of his hardened palm, she shrank back with a petulant cry of distaste. She had never been capricious with him before, and this freak came as a blow in the face to him. He looked at her with wonder-wide eyes, and all in absent-mindedness stroked her little hand again. At that second touch she sprang back in anger, and, catching up her shawl from the settle, she twined it about her hastily and ran from him out into the cold, damp air. 'Zekiel's heart contracted with a sharp pain. The girl's way humiliated him and cut him to the quick. For a moment he stood quite still and knew what despair meant, and faintly felt what it would mean for him if the girl went out of his life again. Then " 'Tis her waywardness," he thought; "she isn' like Lande- carrock maidens, an' I wouldn' have her be." And he followed after her quickly that he might try to wipe out his offence. She was running along the road towards the sea, flying fast before him, her dark hair blowing about her shoulders, her red shawl waving in the wind. Then up the cliff hill she turned, still fleet and unwavering, until she reached the turfy level, the spot where 'Zekiel had stood to watch the black ship and her crew the morning after the storm. Here she stopped, breathless, panting, A SPAmSH MAID 63 with the colour flooding in her cheeks, and 'Zekiel came up to her and took her gently by the arm to ask forgiveness for his unknown fault. But she still shrank from his touch, and turned from him, and looked away towards the sea. Then there came back to him the remembrance of the day when she had first come into his life, when he had first set eyes upon her and held her in his arms. "What did it mean?" he thought wildly. "Why did they serve her so ? " Teresa, too, turned her eyes from the horizon back to Averack beach and shivered, and, looking at her, 'Zekiel saw in her face something which was new to him. " Tell me of it ! " he cried, pointing down to the shingle where the black boat had grounded. " Tell me of the devils who served 'ee so." Many of his words were clear to her, and the pleading maddened her ; she only remembered the desertion, not the welcome, and she hated the remembrance. She turned on the boy furiously; her brows lowered and grew ugly, and she pushed him from her. "No, no, no ! " she cried, and her voice was not quite tuneful now. " No, no, no ! " Then she flung away from him again and ran, hurrying and stumbling, down the hill she had but just climbed. And her face was ablaze with anger and her eyes blinded by her rage-tears. 64 A SPAmSH MAID " He is cruel ! He drives me mad ! " she cried, breaking into her own passionate mother-tongue. " He will not have me forget ! He will never have me forget !" Then, suddenly, came back an echo to her ears — an echo of her angry words. " He will never have me forget ! He will never have me forget ! " And then came a short, pleasant laugh, and then a question : " Is remembrance so terrible, signorina ? " Teresa, rushing along with tear-blinded eyes, in her heedless rage saw nothing but a sudden, indistinct figure which seemed to rise before her, and then she felt a shock which sent her reeling. Putting out her hands to save herself she found them held by other hands, and then an arm steadied her as she was wheeling to the ground. The hands were firm, the arm was muscular, the voice was cheerful, and hands, arm, and voice belonged to a man — a young man — and the manner of his support was close and sturdy. In another moment Teresa was safe and her footing sure, and the tears were on her cheeks now, leaving her eyes clear, but she still clung to the strong arm. " You are from Spain ?" she panted excitedly. "You know my language ! You are one of us ! " " I am from Spain," the young man answered, smiling carelessly into her eager face, "and I know your language, but I am not one of you." A SPANJSH MAW 65 " But you are a friend in this icy land of strangers," she insisted. "You have felt the sun ; you have seen a blue sky. You can warm my cold heart with words, and melt for me the chill of these sullen persons and their black days." " I can do many things," he answered lightly, " when I have learned why Spanish maids come tumbling from the very skies into my arms. 'Tis a new fashion in Landecarrock since I last lived here." She listened to his careless, laughing words mocking her eagerness, but the arm was still holding her, and the hold was firm. She sighed a deep sigh then, part of self-pity for her own past loneliness, part of pleasure in the consolation here close to her — a fellow-creature who smiled on her, and understood her, and who could admire even while he mocked. Then to them both came 'Zekiel, with his nostrils strained and his hair dishevelled by the wind, and halting suddenly, as if shocked into stillness, he looked from Teresa to the man, with hunted eyes. It was' then that the stranger slowly loosened the arm which held the girl, and, looking with laughing eyes at 'Zekiel, greeted him with an outstretched hand. "'Zekiel, 'Zekiel, is this what you have been doing while I have been a-roaming? Hunting poor Spanish maidens till they rush to the very arms of strangers E 66 ^ SPANISH MAID for protection? Ah, 'Zekiel, you have, in good truth, been growing quickly, while I have been but dreaming of it." " Master Humphrey ! Back home again ! Spanish maiden!" gasped 'Zekiel. "Is it true. Master Hum- phrey ? Is she sure enough a Spanish maiden ? " "Spanish, I vow, by the colour and tongue of her. But we Englishmen must learn to forget old battles in these days; we must bury old quarrels, and for- swear chasing Spaniards now. And a woman, too, 'Zekiel ! To chase a woman ! Lord, what a change in English manners ! " " I didn' go for to do it, Master Humphrey. 'Tis true we hold no great love for the Spaniard, but I didn' go for to chase the maid with any manner of hate towards her, rather " 'Zekiel coloured hotly, and, after trying to face the laughing eyes, flinched, and looked upon the ground. " Rather with a manner of — of hve, 'Zekiel ? Folks say we have strange ways of proving our devotion here in these parts, and, forsooth, you seem to have found a way of your own. At times, 'tis said, we're slow, with but ice where blood should be; but of such faults I'll hold you innocent, I swear. And the maid herself, does she approve this fashion for the storming of her heart ? " A SPANISH MAW 67 " The maid ! — the maid ! " cried 'Zekiel in his pain ; "the maid's hard put to it to make out so much as a word I say. 'Tis Hke to a great stone wall, that foreign talk of hers. I've a-bruised my very heart an' soul in tryin' to pull it down ; an' how can /, just a fisher- boy, climb over it ? " '"Love! love! love! Love will find out the way,'" sang Master Humphrey. But there lay no manner of comfort in platitudes for 'Zekiel. Only a new pain was born to him as he turned towards Teresa and saw her, still flushed and panting, with her eager eyes fastened on Master Humphrey's face. " Teresa ! " cried 'Zekiel, with a sharp note of anguish in his voice. But Teresa did not move; it was as if she did not hear him. " Teresa," Master Humphrey repeated softly in her own Southern words, " Teresa — a gleaner ; 'tis a pleasant name." And Teresa drew near to him, as if he had com- manded her, and she laid her hands upon his arm as a little child would lay them, and her eyes still showed her pleasure. Master Humphrey looked back at her in silence for a moment, and then he laughed amusedly, as one 68 A SPANISff MAID who realises that he it is who makes the third of a trio. "Good-day, good-day!" he cried. "This is my fine fashion of hurrying to the Parsonage as I pro- mised Dame Tellam I would. I must see you all again soon, 'Zekiel, and hear Landecarrock tidings." And 'Zekiel stood and watched him go, and then he moaned ; and to look forward seemed a blank and dreary work. Then he turned to Teresa, and he saw that she, too, was looking after Master Humphrey ; and her eyes were shining and held a look that made him wince and draw his breath back over his lip, as children do when they cut themselves and will not cry. "Come 'long home," he pleaded, with the sharp pain-note still in his voice. " Come 'long home, co'." He knew that he must move her eyes from that comely figure strolling up the hill, or he should speak some mad words ; and a senseless, great tremor of relief shook him when she stirred and slowly faced him. There was no anger for him in her eyes now, but he knew that the satisfaction which lay in them was none of his causing. And it was in silence that they turned and walked side by side back to Peter Ludgven's hearth, CHAPTER VI. TTT^HEN Master Humphrey reached that point of ' ^ the hill where the road branched off to the Parsonage, he turned and looked back at 'Zekiel and the girl — two distance-dwarfed figures walking, with a wide space between them along the level, past Ann Vitty's fuchsia bush — and the sight, in some undefined way, made him feel suddenly older than he need have felt, and seemed to show no reason for the feeling. In the three years which had passed since Master Humphrey had grown weary of his loneliness and had started on his travels, 'Zekiel, it was true, seemed to have grown from slings, and surreptitious games of span-farthing, to be sweetheart-high, and, in the sight of this growth, may have lain the explanation of Master Humphrey's consciousness of age. Be that as it might, when he turned after a while and faced the hill again, a thoughtful mood had fallen upon him. He walked slowly, and when he reached the low wall round 6'J 70 A SPANISH MAID about the churchyard, he stopped and rested there, in the face of all Dame Tellam's wishes, and looked reflectively across the bare, wind-swept spot. Daniel Laskey was tending graves a little way off, bowing over his work with the obeisance which seventy years is apt to force upon the shape. Master Hum- phrey's eyes rested compassionately on the old man, and he realised that Daniel, too, had grown older, though the churchyard in which he toiled and spent his strength, keeping it neat and prim as a bride would keep her best room, was scarcely fuller than it had been three years before. On a flat tombstone, hard by Daniel, sat another figure — a big, unshapely man, with a loose, smiling mouth, who played with knuckle-bones, and broke the damp, grey silence with an occasional foolish laugh, according to the interest of the game. This was Sam'le Laskey, Daniel's son, aged fifty-two. And Master Humphrey, watching him as he played so foolishly and so contentedly upon the old lichened slab, saw that Sam'le, at least, had grown no older with the years that had passed, and a new pity for Daniel stirred in him, for Master Humphrey had lived three travelled years since last he had looked upon father and son, and he had begun to understand some of the hard things which may befall a man. And he pulled a dried grass stem and chewed it A SPANISH MAID 71 absently as he contemplated the two at their ordinary game of life. There was an old tale told in Landecarrock, that, when Daniel Laskey had been a boy, he had gone away and married a girl who had died before her " teens " had power to weary her. But Daniel never told the tale himself; he only came quietly back to Landecarrock with a silly-faced baby in his arms, long before he had turned twenty, and, renting the cottage down by the boat-sheds, bought a cradle and a few odd things, and settled himself again upon his native soil, being recognised as a widow -man from that day. For more than fifty years since then he had worked from early Monday till late Saturday, and had kept food and firing in the house, enough for two ; but if the villagers expected Daniel to lavish love upon his heir, they were disappointed, for Daniel Laskey and Sam'le, his son, walked separate ways from the time of Sam'le's "feeling his feet," and were never seen to interchange a word in pleasantness or in wrath as far back as any one could stir a memory. Landecarrock folks supposed that Daniel provided clothing for Sam'le, because Sam'le wore clothing, and, undoubtedly, he did not provide it for himself, having never done a stroke of work in his life, except once or twice in mistake for 72 A SPANISH MAID play ; but no one ever saw the purchase made (which is saying much for Daniel's secretiveness), and Daniel kept his own counsel. Sam'le, it is true, had sometimes been questioned on the matter in his younger days, but, as he told a different tale to each questioner — thereby causing some friction in the village until the questioners had come together and aired their authority and faced its value — they remain mystified. It was Sam'le's way to hover about his father as he worked, at such times as the rest of the village had gone a-fishing out at sea, but this seemed to be because he hated solitude, not because he was affectionate. And Daniel bore with him in silence ; and only once in all the fifty -odd years — on that summer Sunday evening when Sam'le inadvertently loosed all the boats from their moorings while the village was at worship, and came with slack lips and mildly wondering eyes to the church to tell of it — only on that one occasion had Daniel been known to volunteer a word on the subject of his son. " ' He that begetteth a fool doeth it to his sorrow ; and the father of a fool hath no joy,' " he said grimly, as he stood by the water and watched the men chasing their boats round the point by means of Builder Belovely's great smack; then he spat as though the taste in his mouth was bitter, and then he turned and went into his A SPANISH MAW 73 cottage, leaving Sam'le to the mercy of the boatmen on their return, and the womenkind meanwhile. Master Humphrey smiled as the old tale drifted through his mind ; then, after a while, having no graves to tend or knuckle-bones to play with, he grew chilly in the raw air and rose to go upon his way. But at that moment, round the corner of the church came a tall, lean figure, carrying a plummet in one hand, and a note-book in the other, and Master Humphrey cleared the hedge at a bound and hurried forward to meet it. " Parson," he cried, with all his cheerfulness returning, " I was wanting you ; I was on my way to you. Say you're glad to see me home again ! " Parson Swayn, dropping his plummet and misplacing his index-finger in his note-book, gripped the hand held out to him, and beamed upon the young man. " Humphrey ! my dear Humphrey ! I almost imagine that my eyes must be deceiving me ! Truly, I am overjoyed to see you home once again. But so sudden, so unpretentious a return ! I have heard no word of the expectation " "All my fault, sir, all my fault, and I have had to bear much scolding for it," confessed Master Humphrey. "To tell truth, I turned babyish, and all suddenly wanted my home. The longing gripped me as I stood 74 A SPANISH MAID one morning in the busy street of a dirty Spanish town, and I turned about and came swiftly as sails and horses could bring me. 'Twas but at dawn this morning that I galloped in at my own gates and shocked half Dame Tellam's love away by the sudden and undignified manner of it. She, it was, who com- manded me to come and report myself to my parson ; for the thought of Squire Humphrey Harle being in Landecarrock after three years roaming, and no one a whit more awed or the wiser for it, was gall and wormwood to the old lady." "Something more than Dame Tellam's urgings brought you up the hill, I trust," ventured the parson, smiling his gentle smile. "That's truth, sir, for I was eager to look on you and the little maid, Ursula ; and I gladly left the dame in peace to move the linen coverings from the chairs and tables (her true reason for sending me upon my way, I told her), that I might come to set my own eyes upon you both. How does little Ursula fare, parson ? " "Little Ursula is little Ursula no longer, in one sense of the word," replied the parson. "'Tis true she is of small and delicate growth, but, remember, she has slipped from twelve to fifteen years since last you saw her. You will find us older, Humphrey — all A SPANISH MAID 75 older. And " he added, with a smile, half-humorous, half-pathetic, "we tend toward antiquatedness without gaining interest as antiquities." " The antiquatedness is more to my taste," protested Master Humphrey. " Boy, thou wert ever a Vandal. But come, I will not entertain my guest entirely upon common ground. We will go to my room where, no doubt, we shall find the little housekeeper, Ursula, who will give us a cup of her China tea-drink for our refreshment." The "parson's room," to which he led Master Humphrey, was the pride of Landecarrock. Every man in the village — not to speak of some women and children — felt that he, or she, had helped to make it what it was. And they knew that it was like no other room in the land. The first stone of it had been placed, under the parson's watchful eyes, one year, long ago, when the village had been mourning under the stress of storm and wreck, and the very fish had deserted the sea ; and the village blessed the parson, and went to work with fresh hearts strengthening their unskilled hands. And the parson stood by them with a treasure destined for every inch, and a tale for every treasure. And every Landecarrock man straightened his back and felt proud when he looked upon it finished, for it is not given to all men to 76 A SPANISH MAID accomplish fine art in the intervals of fish-catching, and the experiment was new enough to be altogether pleasant ; nor was there any carping art critic to be reckoned with in those days and parts, to take the bloom from the plum of their content. On the outside, the parson's room was but a rough, twelve-sided building, made of unshaped granite blocks, with lancet windows and a domed roof. But it was on the inside that the parson and his men looked and felt proud ; for there was gathered together all the treasures of stone, and marble, and gold, and gem which the parson himself had sought for, or bargained for, or accumulated ; and the twelve walls and the domed roof were encrusted with beauty. Round the base of the building the coarser treasures were placed — granite slabs with strange inscriptions, crosses and carved stones dug from the earth or saved from an extreme destiny in the walls of pig-styes or cow- sheds. Above these shone marbles and porphyries of wonderful colour and fine polish ; and from these again rose a rainbow-like gHtter of quartz, and spar, and gem, and mineral, from jetty black to dazzling white, from royal purple to delicate amethyst, from deepest emerald to palest sea-green, from an umber which glowed to a sparkling amber, with gold and silver, tin and copper, corals and fossils, flints and A SPANISH MAID tj shells, diamonds which had lain in the Cornish earth, and amethysts which had lain by the Cornish sea. And they glittered, and flashed, and gleamed in sunlight by day and in the light of the big lamp which hung from the roof by night. To Ursula, who had grown up in it, this room seemed no wonder ; it was beautiful, indeed, but she knew of many such in another land. The land in question, however, was fairyland, and of such a spot the parson and his men knew no geography. But with these twelve wonderful walls around her, and the wild, lonely land outside, Ursula found it no hard matter to live half her life in fairyland and weave fresh tales to meet her limitations. On this November afternoon she sat on a straight- backed oak chair before the hearth, with a little table beside her on which were set the cups and saucers — white delf, blue starred — which had served for her dolls before those treasures were laid in the old chest for a long, long sleep some years ago, but which now served for the China tea which she and the parson drank together every afternoon. Ursula looked less of a child now than on that day when the Spanish girl had come to Peter Ludgven's cottage. The big duffel cloak had hidden the air of womanliness which became her so well, and the hood 78 A SPANISH MAID had covered the soft fair hair drawn Ughtly back from her dreamy Uttle face. To-day, as she sat waiting in the firelight beside her tea-table, she looked so serious and demure in her little grey gown with the white 'kerchief about her shoulders, that the parson seemed right in assuring Master Humphrey that she was " little Ursula" no longer. She was dreaming of the ways and the doings of that gracious, glorious land — that land which was not Arabia, nor Persia, nor India, nor Algeria, which was like them all, rich, gorgeous, tropical, and yet different, more fanciful, nebulous, unreal — which was, in fact, fairyland. She was wondering in what manner the chief of all those imaginary, yet intensely real, personages, the gallant hero-fairy prince-knight, would sail to Landecarrock — for that he would reach those shores in due time, she felt sure — when the door opened, and Agrimony, her little maid, put in her curly head. " Mistress Ursula, if you please, the pot boils, and the master is nearing home with a stranger by his side." And Agrimony's face was wreathed in smiles. "A stranger!" exclaimed Mistress Ursula, starting from her day-dream, and flushing quickly at the rare news of such a coming, seeming, as it did, to answer to her wonderings. " A stranger ! Of what " But Agrimony was gone, and her little mistress A SPAN/SI/ MAID 79 stood with her hands clasped and her breath coming fast, waiting for the coming of the unknown. "Ursula, dear child, I have brought a stranger to you," announced the parson, as he crossed the room followed by Master Humphrey. The colour flooded Ursula's face, and for a moment she closed her eyes in her exquisite agitation. When, however, she looked up and saw the laughing face she knew so well, a great disappointment shook her, and her voice held the vibration as she faltered : " Humphrey ! " But at once, on the shock of the pain, came the shock of the pleasure. The real event was so good, the imaginary could wait, and " Humphrey ! " she cried again, all-joyous. '* I think you were not glad to see me. Mistress Ursula?" ventured Master Humphrey. " Oh yes, indeed, indeed," she protested ; then, in strict truthfulness added, " now." " Did you look to see some other friend ?" "I looked," she faltered. "I looked to see " Then she met the laughing eyes again and pride gave her courage. " I can wait for others ; there is time enough for any other," she declared with a pretty gravity. "It is you whom I know I am glad to see." So A SPANISH MAID Agrimony, bringing in the pot, set it on the hearth, and handed the little inlaid tea chest to Mistress Ursula whose little hands were trembling. And Agrimony noted the trembUng, and she noted also the light in Master Humphrey's eyes as he looked at his playfellow and realised that twelve and three make fifteen. And then Agrimony passed out again into the passage-way which led to the house itself, and being there, she laughed softly, yet merrily. But Agri- mony was often laughing when there seemed but small reason for the act. CHAPTER VII. " IVyr ASTER HUMPHREY'S home agen!" 'Zekiel •^^■^ announced that same evening, as he sat at his sister's ingle and looked into the red heart of the peat-clods. " Master Humphrey — home ! " repeated Mary Ludgven amazed. " Goodness me ! Then 'twas sudden, I'll be bound, for I saw Dame Tellam down to Pecket's farm only yesterday forenoon, an' she didn' make no mention of it." She was sitting on a low, wooden chair beside Teresa, with Zel on her lap, curling his bare toes in the warmth of the fire, his day garments all slack about him, buttons and strings being allowed some relaxation in view of the imminence of bed-time. " Poor young gentleman ! " she went on musingly. " I often think 'tis a lonesome life for him down in that great empty house, not a soul of his own family to care whether he's livin' or dyin', an' all his fine friends enjoyin' of themselves far away from these parts." " He'd best marry," said 'Zekiel, " if 'tis company 82 A SPANISH MAID he's wantin'. And 'twould be a good thing for Lande- carrock as well as for himself." "He's a bit young to marry and settle yet awhile, I'm thinkin'," Mary hazarded. " A bit young ! No one's too young who's a mind to it an' a-plenty to live on." 'Zekiel's voice was protesting, and his eyes left the peat flame which had seemed to hold them, and rested on Teresa's face as she sat opposite to him with the firelight glancing on her, now lighting her with a red shine and again leaving her indistinct in shadow. " 'Tis true the old squire was but a boy when he married," allowed Mary, " an' he was happy enough, folks say, but I'm thinkin' Master Humphrey is made of different stuff to what the old squire was, with a likin' to see the world in his own way." " To my mind, a young squire with money, an' wits, an' a great empty house, an' a sight of people on his land, ought to get married," declared 'Zekiel hotly. "You'm set on havin' the young master settled," laughed Mary, as she gently smoothed Zel's feet and looked into the blaze. And 'Zekiel drew back into the shadow of the settle- arm, for he knew that his face was eager with his words. He knew, too, that Master Humphrey's loneliness and A SPANISH MAID 83 his people's comfort were nothing to him then ; but the squire's face was handsome, and his own heart was heavy. " I'm thinkin'," spoke Mary slowly, after a long pause, "that maybe Master Humphrey would be like to know the words that Teresa talks. He's travelled in a powerful sight of lands, folks say, and 'twould be a good thing for the poor maid to find some livin' soul to make known her troubles to. P'raps Peter might tell him 'bout the matter, for he's a kindly young gentleman to speak with, an' has a good heart with all his laughin' ways." " He knows most tongues, I make no doubt," 'Zekiel agreed, with bitterness in his voice which was hateful to him but would not be curbed ; " he's got the luck, has Master Humphrey." But he did not tell Mary of that first meeting on the hill, somehow he could not fit the words to it. And then it seemed that the pause had made the telling impossible. " My precious ! 'tis bye-low time," cooed Mary to her boy, as she caught him tightly to her and rocked him to and fro. " I must be goin', too," said 'Zekiel, rising as he spoke. " Goin' ! " Mary exclaimed, turning to him in surprise ; for 'Zekiel's hours by her hearth had lengthened as 84 A SPANISH MAID the days had shortened. "Whatever are 'ee goin' for ? " "Well," stammered 'Zekiel, "I dunno — but maybe — I'd best be off." " Better bide till Peter comes," said Mary, pitying the pain on his face. Then she rose with Zel in her arms, and climbed slowly up the white wooden stairs humming a lullaby to her boy's drowsy objections as she went. 'Zekiel stood for a moment, irresolute, twisting his knitted cap, then he turned to Teresa and held out his hand to bid her good-night. But Teresa's passion was over. Perhaps the new twist in her life had touched her with generosity, or perhaps she noted that, in the kindly firelight, 'Zekiel's face was wonderfully comely, and his roughness seemed but an admirable strength, or perhaps her selfish heart was penitent. Whichever reason held good, when 'Zekiel held his hand to her she caught it with both her own, and hfting her alluring face to him, all tender and petitioning, she drew him gently to the chair which Mary had left, and her warm fingers lingered about his own for a long moment after their sweet force had ceased. Then she smiled as a sorry child might smile, and then she turned from him and looked into the fire, pensive. But 'Zekiel talked no more of leaving. A SPANISH MAID 85 "What did I do to 'ee," he murmured passionately, " to make 'ee angry ? I didn' think when I learned 'ee to say * No,' that 'twould be for the like of that." She turned to him again. "No? No?" she re- peated slowly, with a question in each word. Then with an impulsive gesture she smoothed the hand she had shrunk from, and smiling graciously, "Ah! it will be * Yes ! Yes ! Yes ! ' " she softly promised. And the fire burned low and clear, and the knitted cap lay upon the floor, and the lullaby overhead grew fainter and fainter until it died away. And in the kitchen scarcely a word was spoken, but the girl's hand lay upon the boy's, and, in the glorious silence which fell for an unreckoned spell, the boy's still tongue recorded a more triumphant joy than shouts from a thousand throats could have told ; and when Mary came softly down the stairs again from the crib of her sleeping boy, 'Zekiel had not yet said his "Good-night," the cut of its syllables would have murdered his short happiness — his exultation — the strength of which was no stronger than a girl's whim could shatter, the length no longer than the letter's difference between her "Yes" and "No." Mary stood a while and looked from the shadow of the stairway across at the figures in the firelight, and the gaunt, eager-faced man seemed a stranger in her eyes, but the girl-child at his side made her shudder. 86 A SPANISH MAID "Is the maid stealing all the youngness from his face for her own?" she thought wildly. "Is she flesh and blood same as us ? Or is she some bewitched thing come in to us from the sea?" Then her own injustice lashed her. " Oh, 'tis me that's wicked ! Poor maid ! poor, friendless maid ! " "All in darkness you folks?" The voice was Peter's, coming in, cheerful and ordinary, with a rattle of the door latch and a clatter of his thick boots on the stones, striking at Mary's nervous fancies and bringing her thoughts back to common-sense and supper. So she moved quickly about her kitchen, with some answering cheerfulness, forcing back her fears as she lighted the candles and began to set the table. And Peter, after throwing a tangle of gorse upon the hearth, rested on the settle and spread his great hands to the blaze, " An' how 'bout the lessons, 'Zekiel ; do 'em go forward ? " he asked with a sly chuckle. 'Zekiel leaned his chin on his hand and looked gravely into the leaping flame of Peter's raising. " 'Tis a terrible thing is a foreign tongue," he answered slowly. " 'Tis worse than oceans of water, or leagues of land, for gettin' to the other side of." "I've a-heard," declared Peter with a laugh, "that 'tis bad for a teacher to go puttin' too much heart in his work ; 'tis apt to clog the head." A SPAmSH MAID 87 " 'Tis apt to break the heart, I'm thinkin'," murmured 'Zekiel. " Master Humphrey's home, Peter," interrupted Mary, coming forward to hft a saucepan from the hearth. "Yes, I've been a-talkin' with him," said Peter. "I met him on the hill a while ago, light-hearted as ever. He don't seem to sober down much with his travels, ii we may go by the looks of him." "We've been thinkin', 'Zekiel an' me," continued Mary, "that maybe he would be so kind as to speak with Teresa in her own words, an' hear what she's got to tell — all about where she conies from, an' who's her folks, an' the like of that — for, I make no doubt, he'll have an understandin' of what they talk over in those parts." Peter looked across at Teresa with the laugh on his lips still, which had been spent, so far, on 'Zekiel ; and Teresa, who caught the words " Master Humphrey," and remembered, knew that they were talking of the happy- faced stranger-man and of herself, and her eyes glowed as they met Peter's. The coastguard looked at her long and steadily and his face slowly changed and grew grave. " 'Tis a powerful pretty face ! " he murmured, " a powerful pretty face ! A man " The words trailed off into silence, but still he sat and looked, and. 88 A SPANISH MAID without stirring a muscle, the girl held his will, and her own eyes were inscrutable. " Peter ! " It was Mary's voice, low and trembling, as she saw the fixed look in her man's eyes, and, shuddering at the spell which seemed to lurk in the girl's lashes, came to lay her hand upon his shoulder. "Peter, come 'fore to supper now, my dear; 'tis all ready." And Peter's thoughts were too far away to hear that her voice was not the voice of a happy woman. "P'raps Master Humphrey will be able to help her back home to her own folks " she went on bravely, but a crash from 'Zekiel's fist upon the table slaughtered the end of her sentence, and brought Peter back to his senses. "Hullo, 'Zekiel ! What's wrong with you?" " I didn' go for to do it," muttered 'Zekiel confusedly. " I wasn' thinkin'." "You'm a bit heavy-handed when you'm light of mind, then. What was you a-saying', Mary, before he let his fingers fall ? " "That maybe Master Humphrey would be able to help Teresa to get back home to her own folks." "Maybe he would," Peter agreed quietly, "an' maybe 'twould be for the best that she should go, poor young maid ! Come," he added, in his own A SPANISH MAID 89 cheerful voice, as he roused himself, and rose from the settle, "let's get to supper. I'm mortal hungry. Come, 'Zekiel, draw 'fore your chair; we'll give 'ee the run of your teeth to-night, if you've a mind to try the power of 'em." 'Zekiel drew forward his chair at Peter's bidding, but the "run of his teeth" that night was inconsider- able. His hunger lay in his heart, and, in such a case, it is the guest who pays the price, not the host. When 'Zekiel had at last said " Good-night," and had closed the door between himself and Teresa's re-born graciousness, he turned to the dim, still night, and the keen air seemed to whip at his eyelids and wake him from a dream. He stood still and bore it for a while and then he turned and walked slowly down the hill. But when he neared Betty's cottage it seemed impossible that he should go in, and shut himself between four little walls, and make-believe that he wanted to sleep. The imprisonment looked hateful as he thought of it, and he felt as if he should never sleep again. Instead of walking on down the street, he passed along by the back garden, and then struck upwards, and climbed the cliff hill until he stood again where he and Teresa had stood that after- noon. 90 A SPANISH MAID " What's the good of it all ? " he questioned, and his boy-heart seemed bursting with his passion and despair as he flung himself down on the short grass. "What's to be the end of it all ! Can a man fall on the ground and pray a maid to give herself to him when he can't so much as give her the time of day in words plain to her understandin'? Why did she ever come nigh these parts? Why did I go down the cliff an' look upon her face ? " Then he paused, for the passion in his heart beat at his throat as if to stun the words for traitors. But, in time, solitude and the night helped the boy to be more god-like. As he lay there, with the great dark dome over him, and the slow " plash ! plash ! " of the sea sounding in his ears, the pain ebbed away from him, as if drawn by the out-going tide, leaving only an indistinct sadness as its scar. For many minutes he lay there with his brain empty of thought, either of trouble or joy — a motionless body with a blanched mind — only conscious that, in the wash of the waves there was a great peace, and that to move might be to bring back pain. So the minutes passed away and he feared to stir. It was the bark of a dog which roused him at last, and he sat up and gripped his hands round his knees, A SPANISH MAID 91 and waited for the back flow of the misery ; but in mercy the turn of that tide was slow. He was feeling the soothing, the wonderful great peace, which lies in the hollow of the hand of Night, and his heart was as a palimpsest from which she had wiped the old pain- words away, and on which, for a while at least, were written only letters spelling patience and a wonderful gratitude. "I'm glad she came," he thought slowly. "I was lyin' when I said I wasn'. I'm glad she came ; an' I'm glad 'twas me as first went to her. I've a-held her in my arms, an' 1 can bear what's to come." Again came the sharp bark of a dog, and this time it was closer to his ear. Turning his face inland 'Zekiel saw through the dimness the wriggling body of a small, white animal, with the dark form of a man following close behind it. " Any one there ? " inquired a voice sharply. "'Tis only me. Master Humphrey; me — 'Zekiel Myners." " Hullo, 'Zekiel ; you coastguarding, too ? " " No, sir ; only watching the water a bit before I go back home." " Dreaming, 'Zekiel ? " " No, sir ; I dunno as I was." Master Humphrey came and sat down on the turf by 92 A SPANISH MAID 'Zekiel's side and tapped the ashes from his pipe, while the white dog sat sturdily on his haunches and looked out towards the sea, whining now and again as he felt the keenness of the night breeze. " Much been happening in these parts since I was here last ? " asked Master Humphrey, as he slowly filled his pipe again. " No, sir ; nothin' much to speak of. Just a few of the old people died ofiF, and a few young ones come, an' a brave many stormy days an' nights, but they happen along every year ; 'tisn' no news to tell of a storm." " And Mary — is she all safe and sound ? " " Mary's all right, sir, bless her heart ! Married since you left Landecarrock, an' she's got a fine boy of her own, sir, too. She's livin' up at the new cottage on the hill, she an' Peter, an " 'Zekiel hesitated, " an' the stranger." " What stranger is that ? " Master Humphrey asked, a trifle indifferently. " Her you saw with me to-day, sir. Her you said was a Spanish maid." " Ah yes, I was forgetting." There was fresh interest in Master Humphrey's voice now. " However did she get to Landecarrock of all places in the world ? Where does she spring from, and what is she doing here ? " "Ah, Master Humphrey, that's more'n we can tell. A SPANISH MAID 93 Who the maid is, an' where she comes from, is things we don't know ; they'm as far from us now as they was the day she came to us, more'n two months ago." " But who brought her ? Why does she stay ? " " Nobody brought her, sir, not as they'd bring a livin', breathin' human bein'. She was thrown out down there on Averaclc beach like as if she was so much jetsam, an' 'twas there I found her." "What does it mean, 'Zekiel? Has Landecarrock learned new ways ? I don't understand. They didn't do these things, you must remember, before I went away." "Nobody doesn' understand, sir. 'Tis as strange to us Landecarrock folks as 'tis to you. But I'll tell 'ee from the beginning, sir, if you've a mind to hear." And there, on the same spot, his wild eyes conjured up the scene again, and in a low, passion-charged voice he put it into words, and made Master Humphrey see it, too. And the tale was so real and the boy's heart so full, and his words so wonderful that it seemed as if the black ship lay again under the cHff waiting for her boat to do its work, and that they could almost hear her straining hawsers, and the water lapping against her sides, with only the blackness of the night hiding her from their eyes. "An' that's every word we know," declared 'Zekiel when his tale was told. "There, on Averack beach, 94 A SPANISH MAID I come upon her, an' me an' Mary brought her back home." " 'Tis a strange tale, 'Zekiel," said Master Humphrey musingly. " What does the girl herself say about it ? " "That's the worst bit of all, sir. She doesn' say nothin', or we never get to know nothin', for we can't none of us make out a word she talks." There was a pause when 'Zekiel had finished speaking, while Master Humphrey fell to thinking of the face of the girl who had stumbled into his arms a few hours before. She seemed, in very truth, to have the knack of banishing every-day modes of thought and action he decided, and he smiled unconsciously. 'Zekiel, too, was remembering the afternoon's meeting, and the throbs of the old pain stirred again at his heart. It was then that with the suffering a new thought came swiftly to him, and his face grew hot in the dark- ness and his hands quivered. Twice he tried to speak, but the weight of his words shackled his tongue. •' Master Humphrey," he broke out at last, " I'm wonderin', would you be so kind as to do a great thing for me — a real big thing ? " There was awe in his voice, and Master Humphrey's first impulse was to laugh at him for his solemn way ; but somehow, when 'Zekiel, stirred from his ordinary respect, laid a shaking hand upon his squire's sleeve, and A SPANISH MAID 95 leaned towards him in a great earnestness, he felt that a laugh would be a cruelty, and he answered gravely. " I'll do anything I can to help you, and do it gladly, you may be sure of that, 'Zekiel." " Learn me her talk, sir," he cried. " Learn me so that I can speak with her. I'd slave, an' slave, an' slave ! Oh, Master Humphrey, if only I could get to her through those cursed, heathenish words ! If only I could ! " "Ah," thought Master Humphrey, "that's how it is with him, poor 'Zekiel ! " But' aloud he said cheerfully, as if the learning of a language were a mere bagatelle, " Learn you ! Of course I will. Spanish talk isn't altogether child's play, but come to me when you've an hour or so to spare and we'll try. You're too strong a fellow to be beaten by a lot of heathenish words." " 'Twould be a mighty thing for me, sir. You don't know how mighty a thing 'twould be," said 'Zekiel, his voice deepening to indistinctness as he tried to steady it. " I think I do," Master Humphrey thought a while later, as he and his little white dog walked slowly back to big, lonely Pensallas in the valley. CHAPTER VIII. T%yr ASTER HUMPHREY sat before the fire in the -*-*-^ small terrace room. He always came to an anchorage in the small terrace room when he lived at Pensallas alone. He had tried very often to live in the bigger rooms as he had done when the old squire was alive, but he always drifted away from them in about half- an-hour and found himself back again in the small terrace room. He thought, when he troubled to think of it at all, that it was because the smaller room was about the only one which was not lined with family portraits. Master Humphrey admired his family's portraits as some folks admire their family tree, because it is their family tree, and not as a specimen of arboriculture — the portraits might not be of Greek-god pattern, but they were of his ancestors. He also reverenced them, because he had begun life reverencing them. But the family portraits made Master Humphrey feel lonely now, they were so many, all paint and canvas together, 96 A SPAN/SI/ MAID 97 and he was one to himself; he felt that he almost owed them an apology for being alive and intrusive, and the desolate feeling lowered his spirits. There- fore, finding the truth of the saying, that " one is never so lonely as in a crowd," he avoided the crowd and left it to itself in silence and darkness. On this evening, the second since he had galloped back from his wanderings, he lounged before his fire with his feet stretched to the warm stone coping round the hearth, fitting them to the hollows worn long ago by resting cavaliers or Elizabeth's adventurer-seamen, as they told of their past successes and failures, and hatched more for the future. His head rested on the flamboyant patterned damask of his favourite chair, and his eyes were turned upwards in lazy con- templation of the carving on the over-mantel, where the fruits and grains of the earth twined themselves sociably into a wreathing display of plenty with a fine disregard of seasonableness, while thin clouds of tobacco smoke rose as incense to the little painted gods sprawling across the ceiling. Dame Tellam was treading about the room, piling, with her own hands, fresh logs upon the hearth, and lighting the candles on the mantelpiece; for an extra gossip with the boy, grown man, was worth a risk of dignity. "Am I forgiven, nurse, for scaring you out of your G 98 A SPANISH MAID wits — dropping from the skies into your linen-covered rooms?" asked Master Humphrey at the end of a long, spiral whiff of smoke. Dame Tellam had been Master Humphrey's nurse in the days when he had been too young to revolt against such a functionary, and though promoted many years ago to housekeepership, she was always " nurse " to him in private and when her dignity could not suffer, as he was always "Master Humphrey" to her. But, indeed, he was " Master Humphrey " to most folks in Landecarrock, for they found it hard to believe that the " darin' little mortal," who had so often scuttled secretly from Pensallas down to the waterside, defying and cajoling them all by turns, was now a man grown and their own squire. " Yes, Master Humphrey, I don't bear no malice, in heart. Women-folks do like things to be all fitty when anybody comes, but, bless your soul ! I've grown to expect 'ee when I see 'ee now, sir, an' the coverin's was all clean as new pins, so I wasn' ashamed. An' if your dinner wasn' such as I could have wished it, why, I knew 'twas nobody's fault but your own, sir, an' that's a brave bit of comfort to a woman's mind." Master Humphrey chuckled. " I was always a graceless scamp, nurse, and I verily believe you were glad to see I hadn't changed my A SPANISH MAID 99 ways. But, to tell truth, I was tired of roaming for a while, and I wanted to see how the old place was looking. You know the feeling I get? I used to have it just the same when I was a little man in frocks — must drop everything and run home to see how some- body, or something, was looking." " I mind it well, sir, and I hope as how you find the old place to your mind after your long spell in foreign parts ? " "The old place is all right," said Master Humphrey, with a smile and a half-sigh, "but I see some changes about here and there." " 'Twould be a wonder if you didn', sir." " The boys and girls have grown up, nurse. Have I grown as fast as they have?" " You ain't one for agein' fast yourself, sir ; but boys an' maids will grow, no matter whether you turn your head the other way or no ; an' then comes the courtin', an' the marryin' — plenty of that, sir, do what you will." " Pretty Mary Myners married, fancy that ! " said Master Humphrey meditatively. " I knew Peter wanted her. Good Peter, he deserved her. But 'Zekiel, nurse — what has happened to 'Zekiel ? " " He's mazed, sir — mazed, an' nothin' else ! An' all on account of that foreign maid as he got from the sea," loo A SPANISH MAID " He was telling me of her yesterday. It's a strange tale ! " "Strange! Master Humphrey, 'tis worse than strange; an' I say as no good '11 ever come of it. There's somethin' about that maid that — well, I don't know what 'tis — but it gives me the shivers. I declare to goodness, if I meet that maid in the village, an' she turns them great burnin' eyes on me, I feel for all the world as if my bones was turned watery an' wouldn' so much as bear my weight; an' if I've got a thing in my hand — from a basket of eggs to my Bible — I'm like to drop it an' stand glarin' at her like a great conger. 'Tis as if she'd draw the heart out of a body, an' make it forget everythin', be it errands or God. I can't abide the maid; an' that poor lad 'Zekiel has gone ten years older since he picked her up." "You see, she's different from the maidens he's known hereabouts all his hfe," protested Master Humphrey. "Thanks be to the Lord ! you'm right, sir. I wouldn' have our village maids goin' about in that there heathenish dress, an' with them great black eyes for whatever. No, sir; Landecarrock maids are clear- skinned and modest-eyed, as a rule, an' content with a decent, sober petticoat an' bodice ; but they didn' seem to suit 'Zekiel Myners, howsoever."