LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 SHINING FERRY
 
 
 HES1 l.k MARVIN
 
 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Bv "Q" 
 
 /// 
 
 LONDON 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 
 27 PATERNOSTER ROW 
 
 1905
 
 S3 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by " Q," in the United States of America
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 
 CHAP. 
 I. 
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 II. 
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 
 
 1 1 
 
 III. 
 
 rosewarne's PILGRIMAGE 
 
 26 
 
 IV. 
 
 ROSEWARNE's PENANCE. 
 
 35 
 
 V. 
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHI 1' 
 
 50 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE RAFTERS .... 
 
 . 67 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL . 
 
 81 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 VIII. HESTER ARRIVES 
 
 IX. MR. SAMUEL'S POLICY . 
 
 X. NDNCBY .... 
 
 XI. ill. .1 l.r I I A' I Ml I.I) . 
 
 XII. THE OPENING DAY 
 
 XIII. TOM l REV \1111 
 
 XIV. MR. SAM I . IMOUS 
 XV. MVKA IN I'l IOB V I. 
 
 IOI 
 
 1 10 
 
 1 18 
 
 131 
 145 
 
 '53 
 
 165 
 
 »74
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 CHAT. 
 
 XVI. AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 
 
 XVII. PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 
 
 XVIII. RIGHT OK FERRY 
 
 XIX. THE INTERCEDERS 
 
 XX. AN OUTBURST . 
 
 XXI. MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 
 
 XXII. CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 
 
 XXIII. HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTE 
 
 XXIV. THE RESCUE 
 XXV. BUT TOM CAN WRITE . 
 
 XXVI. MESSENGERS 
 
 XXVII. HOME 
 
 FACE 
 I8 7 
 
 205 
 215 
 229 
 243 
 253 
 270 
 283 
 297 
 312 
 327 
 
 339
 
 BOOK 1
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL 
 
 JOHN ROSEWARNE sat in his counting-house 
 at Hall, dictating a letter to his confidential 
 clerk. The letter ran — 
 
 " DEAR Sir, — In answer to yours of the 6th inst, 
 I beg to inform you that in consequence of an 
 arrangement with the Swedish firms, by which 
 barrel-staves will be trimmed and finished to three 
 standard lengths before shipment, we are enabled to 
 offer an additional discount of five per cent, for the 
 coming season on orders of five thousand staves and 
 upwards. Such orders, however, should reach us 
 before the fishery begins, as we hold ourselves free 
 to raise the price at any time after ist July. A con- 
 signment is expected from the Baltic within the next 
 fortnight." 
 
 The little clerk looked up. His glance inquired, 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 " Wait a minute." His master seemed to be re- 
 flecting ; then leaning back in his chair and gripping
 
 2 SHINING FERRY 
 
 its arms while he stared out of the bow-window 
 before him, he resumed his dictation — 
 
 " I hope to be in Plymouth on Wednesday next 
 and that you will hold yourself ready for a call 
 between two and three in the afternoon at your 
 office." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," the clerk interposed, " but 
 Mr. Samuel closes early on Wednesdays." 
 " I know it. Go on, please — 
 
 " I have some matters to discuss alone with you, 
 and they may take a considerable time. Kindly let 
 me know by return if the date suggested is incon- 
 venient." 
 
 " That will do." He held out his hand for the 
 paper, and signed it, " Yours truly, John Rosewarne," 
 while the clerk addressed the envelope. This con- 
 cluded their day's work. 
 
 Rosewarne pulled out his watch, consulted it, and 
 fell again to staring out of the open window. A 
 climbing Banksia rose overgrew the sill and ran up 
 the mullions, its clusters of nankeen buds stirred 
 by the breeze and nodding against the pale sunset 
 sky. Beyond the garden lay a small orchard fringed 
 with elms ; and below this the slope fell so steeply 
 down to the harbour that the elm-tops concealed 
 its shipping and all but the chimney-smoke of a 
 busy little town on its farther shore. High over 
 this smoke the rooks were trailing westward and 
 homeward. 
 
 Rosewarne heard the clank of mallets in a ship- 
 building yard below. Then five o'clock struck from
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL 3 
 
 the church tower across the water, and the mallets 
 ceased ; but far down by the harbour's mouth the 
 crew of a foreign-bound ship sang at the windlass — 
 
 Good - bye, fare - ye - well — Good - bye, fare - ye - well ! 
 
 The vessel belonged to him. He controlled most 
 of the shipping and a good half of the harbour's 
 trade. As for the town at his feet, had you examined 
 his ledgers you might fancy its smoke ascending to 
 him as incense. He sat with his strong hand resting 
 on the arms of his chair, with the last gold of daylight 
 touching his white hair and the lines of his firm, 
 clean-shaven face, and overlooked his local world and 
 his possessions. If they brought him happiness, he 
 did not smile. 
 
 He aroused himself with a kind of shake of the 
 shoulders, and stretched out a hand to ring, as his 
 custom was after the day's work, for a draught of cider. 
 
 " Eh ? Anything more ? " he asked ; for the little 
 clerk, having gathered up his papers, had advanced 
 close to the corner of the writing-table, and waited 
 there with an air of apology. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir— the 28th of May. I had 
 no opportunity this morning, but if I may take the 
 liberty "— 
 
 "My birthday, Benny? So it is; and, begad, I 
 believe you're the only soul to remember it. Stay a 
 moment " — 
 
 He rang the bell, and ordered the maidservant to 
 bring in a full jug of cider and two glasses. At the
 
 4 SHINING FE11RY 
 
 signal, a small Italian greyhound, who had been await- 
 ing it, came forward fawning from her lair in the 
 corner, and, encouraged by a snap of the fingers, 
 leapt up to her master's knee. 
 
 " May God send you many, sir, and His mercy 
 follow you all your days ! " said little Mr. Benny, 
 with sudden fervour. Relapsing at once into his 
 ordinary manner, he produced a scrap of paper and 
 tendered it shyly. " If you will think it appropriate," 
 he explained. 
 
 "The usual compliment? Hand it over, man." 
 Mr. Rosewarne took the paper and read — 
 
 "Another year, another milestone past; 
 Dear sir, I hope it will not be the last : 
 But more I hope that, when the road is trod, 
 You find the Inn, and sit you down with God." 
 
 " Thank you, Benny. Your own composition ? " 
 
 " I ventured to consult my brother, sir. The idea 
 — if I may so call it — was mine, however." 
 
 Mr. Rosewarne leant forward, and picking up a 
 pen, docketed the paper with the day of the month 
 and the year. He then pulled out a drawer on the 
 left-hand side of his knee-hole table, selected a packet 
 labelled " Complimentary, P. B." — his clerk's initials 
 — slipped the new verses under the elastic band con- 
 taining similar contributions of twenty years, replaced 
 the packet, and shut the drawer. The little grey- 
 hound, displaced by. these operations, sprang again to 
 his knees, and he fell to fondling her ears. 
 
 " I do not think there will be many more miles, 
 Benny," said he, reaching for the cider-jug. " But let 
 us drink to the rest of the way."
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL 5 
 
 "A great many, I hope, sir," remonstrated Mr. 
 Benny. " And, sir — talking about milestones — you 
 will be pleased to hear that Mrs. Benny was confined 
 this morning. A fine boy." 
 
 " That must be the ninth at least." 
 
 " The eleventh, sir — six girls and five boys : besides 
 three buried." 
 
 " Good Lord ! " 
 
 "They bring their love with them, sir, as the 
 saying is." 
 
 " And as the saying also is, Benny, it would be 
 more to the purpose if they brought their boots and 
 shoes. Man, you must have a nerve, to trust Provi- 
 dence as you do ! " 
 
 " It's a struggle, sir, as you can guess ; but except 
 to your kindness in employing me, I am beholden to 
 no man. I say it humbly — the Lord has been kind 
 to me." 
 
 Rosewarne looked up for a moment and with a 
 curious eagerness, as though on the point of putting 
 a question. He suppressed it, however. 
 
 " It seems to me," he said slowly, " in this question 
 of many children or few there's a natural conflict 
 between the private man and the citizen ; yes, that's 
 how I put it— a natural conflict. I don't believe in 
 Malthus or any talk about over-population. A nation 
 can't breed too many sons. Sons are her strength, 
 and if she is to whip her rivals it will be by the big 
 battalions. Therefore, as I argue it out, a good citizen 
 should beget many children. But now turn to the 
 private side of it. A man wants to do the best for 
 his own ; and whatever his income, he can do better
 
 6 SHINING FERRY 
 
 for two children than for half a dozen. To be sure, 
 he mayn't turn 'em out as he intended " — 
 
 Here Rosewarne paused for a while unwittingly, as 
 his eyes fell on the packet of letters in Mr. Benny's 
 hand. The uppermost — the business letter which he 
 had just signed — was addressed to his only son. 
 
 " — but all the same," he went on, " he has fitted them 
 out and given them a better chance in the struggle 
 for life. The devil takes the hindmost in this world, 
 Benny. I'd like to lend you a book of Darwin's — 
 the biggest book of this century, and a new gospel 
 for the next to think out. The conclusion is that 
 the spoils go to the strongest. You may help a man 
 for the use you can make of him, but in the end 
 every man's your natural enemy." 
 
 " A terrible gospel, sir ! I shall have to get along 
 with the old one, which says, ' Bear ye one another's 
 burdens.' " 
 
 " I won't lend you the book. 'Twouldn't be fair to 
 a man of your age, with eleven children. And after 
 all, as I said, the new gospel has a place for patriots. 
 They breed the raw material by which a nation 
 crushes all rivals ; then, when the fighting is over, 
 along comes your man with money and a trained 
 wit, and collars the spoils." 
 
 Mr. Benny stood shuffling his weight from one foot 
 to the other. " Even if yours were the last word in 
 this world, sir, there's another to reckon with." 
 
 " And meanwhile you're on pins and needles to be 
 off to your wife's bedside. Very well, man — drink up 
 your cider ; and many thanks for your good wishes ! " 
 
 As Mr. Benny hurried towards the wicket-gate and
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL 7 
 
 the street leading down to the ferry, he caught sight, 
 across the hedge, of two children seated together in 
 a corner of the garden on the step of a summer 
 arbour, and paused to wave a hand to them. 
 
 They were a girl and a boy — the girl about eight 
 years old and the boy a year or so younger — and 
 the pair were occupied in making a garland such 
 as children carry about on May-morning — two barrel- 
 hoops fixed crosswise and mounted on a pole. The 
 girl had laid the pole across her lap, and was binding 
 the hoops with ferns and wild hyacinths, wallflowers, 
 and garden tulips, talking the while with the boy, 
 who bent his head close by hers and seemed to peer 
 into the flowers. But in fact he was blind. 
 
 " You're late ! " the girl called to Mr. Benny. At 
 the sound of her voice, the boy too waved a hand 
 to him. 
 
 " It's your grandfather's birthday, and I've been 
 drinking his health." He beckoned them over to 
 the hedge. " And it's another person's birthday," he 
 announced mysteriously. 
 
 " Bless the man ! you don't tell me you've gone 
 and got another ! " exclaimed the girl. 
 
 Mr. Benny nodded, no whit abashed. 
 
 " Boy or girl ? " 
 
 " Boy." 
 
 " What is he like?" asked the boy. His blindness 
 came from some defect of the optic nerve, and did 
 not affect the beauty of his eyes, which were curiously 
 reflective (as though they looked inwards), and in 
 colour a deep violet-grey. 
 
 " I hadn't much time to take stock of him this
 
 8 SHINING FERRY 
 
 morning," Mr. Benny confessed ; " but the doctor 
 said he was a fine one." He nodded at the garland. 
 " Birthday present for your grandfather? " he asked. 
 
 " Grandfather doesn't bother himself about us," 
 the girl answered. " Besides, what would he do 
 with it?" 
 
 " I know — I know. It's better be unmannerly 
 than troublesome, as they say ; and you'd like to 
 please him, but feel too shy to offer it. That's like 
 me. I had it on my tongue just now to ask him to 
 stand godfather — the child's birthday being the same 
 as his own. 'Twas the honour of it I wanted ; but 
 like as not (thought I) he'll set it down that I'm 
 fishing for something else, and when it didn't strike 
 him to offer I felt I couldn't mention it." 
 
 "77/ ask him, if you like." 
 
 " Not on any account ! No, please, you mustn't ! 
 Promise me." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " I oughtn't to have mentioned it, but " — Mr. 
 Benny rubbed the back of his head. " You don't 
 know how it is — no, of course you wouldn't; some- 
 how, when a child's born, I want to be talking all day." 
 
 " Like a hen. Well, run along home, and some 
 day you shall ask us to tea with it." 
 
 But Mr. Benny had reached the wicket. It 
 slammed behind him, and he ran down the street to 
 the ferry at a round trot. He might have spared 
 his haste, for he had to cool his heels for a good ten 
 minutes on the slipway, and fill up the time in telling 
 his news to half a dozen workmen gathered there and 
 awaiting the boat. Old Nicky Vro, the ferryman,
 
 ROSEWARNE OF HALL 9 
 
 had pulled the same leisurable stroke for forty years 
 now, and was not to be hurried. 
 
 The workmen were carpenters, all engaged upon 
 the new schoolhouse above the hill, and returning 
 from their day's job. They discussed the building 
 as Nicky Vro tided them over. Its fittings, they 
 agreed, were something out of the common. 
 
 " 'Tis the old man's whim," said one. " He's all 
 for education now, and the latest improvements. 
 1 Capability ' — that's his word." 
 
 " A poor lookout it'll be for Aunt Butson and her 
 Infant School." 
 
 " He'll offer her the new place, maybe," it was 
 suggested. 
 
 But all laughed at this. " What ? with his notions ? 
 He's a darned sight more likely to offer her Nicky's 
 job, here ! " 
 
 Nicky smiled complacently, in his half-witted way. 
 " That's a joke, too," said he. He knew himself to 
 be necessary to the ferry. 
 
 He pulled on — still with the same digging stroke 
 which he could not have altered for a fortune — while 
 his passengers discussed Roscwarne and Rosewarne's 
 ways. 
 
 " 'Tis a hungry gleaning where he've a-reaped," 
 said the man who had spoken of capability; "but I 
 don't blame the old Greek — not I. 'Do or be done, 
 miss cluing and be done lor' — that's the world's 
 motto nowadays; and if 1 hadn't learnt it for my- 
 self, I've a .on in America to write it home. Here 
 we be all in a heap, and the lucky one levers himself 
 a-top."
 
 10 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Mr. Benny said good-night to them on the landing- 
 slip, and broke into a trot for home. 
 
 "'Tisn't true," he kept repeating to himself, almost 
 fiercely for so mild a little man. " 'Tisn't true, what- 
 ever it sounds. There's another world ; and in this 
 one — don't I know it ? — there's love, love, love ! "
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 
 
 JOHN ROSEWARNE fetched his hat and staff 
 from the hall, and started on his customary stroll 
 around the farm-buildings, with the small grey- 
 hound trotting daintily at his heels. 
 
 The lands of Hall march with those of far larger 
 estate, to which they once belonged, and of which 
 Hall itself had once been the chief seat. The house 
 — a grey stone building with two wings and a heavy 
 porch midway between them — dated from 1592, and 
 had received its shape of a capital E in compliment 
 to Queen Elizabeth. King Charles himself had 
 lodged in it for a day during the Civil War, and 
 while inspecting the guns on a terraced walk above 
 the harbour, had narrowly escaped a shot fired across 
 from the town where Essex's troops lay in force. 
 The shot killed a poor fisherman beside him, and 
 His Majesty that afternoon gave thanks for his own 
 preservation in the private chapel of Hall. In those 
 days, the porch and all the main windows looked 
 seaward upon this chapel across half an acre of green- 
 sward, but the Rosewarnes had since converted the 
 lawn into a farmyard and the shrine into a cow-byre. 
 
 Above it ran a line of tall elms screening a lane used 
 
 u
 
 12 SHINING FERRY 
 
 by the farm-carts, and above this again a great field 
 of arable rounded itself against the sky. 
 
 From the top of Parc-an-hal— so the field was 
 named — the eye travelled over a goodly prospect: 
 sea and harbour; wide stretches of cultivated land 
 intersected by sunken woodlands which marked the 
 winding creeks of the river; other woodlands yet 
 more distant, embowering the great mansion of 
 Damelioc ; the purple rise of a down capped by a 
 monument commemorating ancient battles. The 
 scene held old and deeply written meanings for 
 Rosewarne, as he gazed over it in the descending 
 twilight — meanings he had spent his life to acquire, 
 and other meanings born with him in his blood. 
 
 Once upon a time there lived a wicked nobleman. 
 He owned Damelioc, and had also for his pleasure 
 the house and estate of Hall, whence his family had 
 moved to their lordlier mansion two generations 
 before his birth. Being exiled to the country from 
 the Court of Queen Anne, he cast about for some 
 civilised way of passing the time, and one day, as he 
 lounged at church in his great pew, his eye fell on 
 Rachel Rosewarne, a gipsy-looking girl, sitting under 
 the gallery. This Rachel's father was a fisherman, 
 tall of stature, who planted himself one night in the 
 road as my lord galloped homeward to Damelioc. 
 The horse shied, and the rider was thrown. Rose- 
 warne picked him up, dusted his lace coat carefully, 
 and led him aside into this very field of Parc-an-hal. 
 No one knows what talk they held there, but on his 
 lordship's dying, in 1712, of wounds received in a
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 13 
 
 duel in Hyde Park, Rachel Rosewarne produced a 
 deed, which the widow's lawyers did not contest, and 
 entered Hall as its mistress, with her son Charles — 
 then five years old. 
 
 Rachel Rosewarne died in 1760 at the age of 
 seventy-six, leaving a grim reputation, which survived 
 for another hundred years in the talk of the country- 
 side. While she lived, her grip on the estate never 
 relaxed. Her son grew up a mere hind upon the 
 home-farm. When he reached twenty-five, she saddled 
 her grey horse, rode over to Looe, and returned with 
 a maid for him — one of the Mayows, a pale, submissive 
 creature — whom he duly married. She made the 
 young couple no allowance, but kept them at Hall 
 as her pensioners. In the year 1747, Charles (by this 
 time a man of forty) had the temerity to get religion 
 from the Rev. John Wesley. The great preacher had 
 assembled a crowd on the green by the cross-roads 
 beyond Parc-an-hal. Charles Rosewarne, who was 
 stalling the cattle after milking-time, heard the out- 
 cries, and strolled up the road to look. Two hours 
 later he returned, fell on his knees in the outer kitchen, 
 and began to wrestle for his soul, the farm-maids 
 standing around and crying with fright. But half an 
 hour later his mother returned from Liskeard market, 
 strode into the kitchen in her riding-skirt, and took 
 him by the collar. "You base-born mongrel!" she 
 called out. "You barn-straw whelp! What has the 
 Lord to do with one of your breed ? " She dragged 
 him to his feet and laid her horse-whip over head 
 and shoulders. Madam had more than once used 
 that whip upon an idling labourer in the fields.
 
 14 SHINING FERRY 
 
 She died, leaving the estate in good order and clear 
 of debt. Charles Rosewarne enjoyed his inheritance 
 just eleven years, and, dying in 1771 of angina 
 pectoris, left two married daughters and a son, 
 Nicholas, on whom the estate was entailed, sub- 
 ject to a small annual charge for maintaining his 
 mother. 
 
 In this Nicholas all the family passions broke out 
 afresh. He had been the one living creature for 
 whom Madam Rachel's flinty breast had nursed a 
 spark of love, and at fourteen he had rewarded her by 
 trying to set fire to her skirts as she dozed in her 
 chair. At nineteen, in a fit of drunkenness, he struck 
 his father. He married a tap-room girl from St. 
 Austell, and beat her. She gave him two sons : the 
 elder (named Nicholas, after his father), a gentle boy, 
 very bony in limb, after the fashion of the Rosewarnes ; 
 the younger, Michael, an epileptic. His mother had 
 been turned out of doors one night in a north-westerly 
 gale, and had lain till morning in a cold pew of the 
 disused chapel, whereby the child came to birth 
 prematurely. This happened in 1771, the year that 
 Nicholas took possession of the estate. He treated 
 his old mother even worse, being fierce with her 
 because of the small annual charge. She grew blind 
 and demented toward the end, and was given a room 
 in the west wing, over the counting-house. Nicholas 
 removed the door-handle on the inside, and the 
 wainscot there still showed a dull smear, rubbed by 
 the poor creature's shoulder as she trotted round and 
 round ; also marks upon the door, where her fingers 
 had grabbled for the missing handle. There were
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 15 
 
 dreadful legends of this Nicholas — one in particular 
 of a dark foreigner who had been landed, heavily 
 ironed, from a passing ship, and had found hospitality 
 at Hall. The ship (so the story went) was a pirate, 
 and the man so monstrously wicked that even her 
 crew could not endure him. During his sojourn the 
 cards and drink were going at Hall night and day, 
 and every night found Nicholas mad-drunk. He 
 began to mortgage, and whispers went abroad of 
 worse ways of meeting his losses ; of ships lured upon 
 the rocks, and half-drowned sailors knocked upon the 
 head, or chopped at with axes. 
 
 All this came to an end in the great thunderstorm 
 of 1778, when the harvesters, running for shelter to 
 the kitchen, found Nicholas lying in the middle of 
 the floor with his mouth twisted and eyeballs staring. 
 They were lifting the body, when a cry from the 
 women fetched them to the windows, in time to catch 
 a glimpse of the foreigner sneaking away under cover 
 of the low west wall. As he broke into a run the 
 lightning flashed upon the corners of a brass-bound 
 box he carried under his arm. One or two gave 
 chase, but the rain met them on the outer threshold 
 in a deluge, and in the blind confusion of it he made 
 off, nor was seen again. 
 
 Thus died Nicholas Rosewarne, and was followed 
 to the grave by one mourner only — his epileptic child, 
 Michael. The heir, Nicholas II., had taken the king's 
 shilling to be quit of his home, and was out in Phila- 
 delphia, fighting under Sir Henry Clinton. He re- 
 turned in 1780 with a shattered knee-pan and a 
 young wife he had married abroad. She died within
 
 16 SHINING FERRY 
 
 a year of her arrival at Hall in giving birth to a son, 
 who was christened Martin. 
 
 The loss of her and the ruinous state of the family- 
 finances completely broke the spirit of this younger 
 Nicholas. He dismissed the servants and worked in 
 the fields and gardens about his fine house as a 
 common market gardener. On fair-days at Liskeard 
 or St. Austell the ex-soldier, prematurely aged, might 
 have been seen in the market-place, standing as 
 nearly at " Attention " as his knee-pan allowed beside 
 a specimen apple tree, which he held to his shoulder 
 like a musket. Thus he kept sentry-go against hard 
 Fortune — a tall man with a patient face. Thanks to 
 a natural gift for gardening, and the rare fertility of 
 the slopes below Hall, he managed to pay interest on 
 the mortgages and support the family at home — his 
 sad-browed mother, his brother Michael, and his son 
 Martin. And he lived to taste his reward, for his son 
 Martin had a financial genius. 
 
 This genius awoke in Martin Rosewarne one Sunday, 
 in his fifteenth year, as he sat beside his father in the 
 family pew and listened to a dull sermon on the 
 Parable of the Talents. He was a just child, and he 
 could not understand the crime of that servant who 
 had hidden his talent in a napkin. In fault he must 
 be, for the Bible said so. 
 
 The boy spent that afternoon in an apple-loft of 
 the deserted chapel, and by evening he had hit on a 
 discovery which, new in those days, now informs the 
 whole of commerce — that it is more profitable to trade 
 on borrowed capital than upon one's own. 
 
 He put it thus : " Let me, not knowing the meaning
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 17 
 
 of a 'talent,' put it at £100. Now, if the good and 
 faithful servant adventured five talents, or £500, at 
 ten per cent., he made £50 a year. But if the servant 
 with one talent can borrow four others, he has the 
 same capital of £500. Suppose him to borrow at 
 five per cent, and make ten like the other, he pays 
 £20 of his profit in interest, and has thirty per cent, 
 left on the talent he started with." 
 
 " Father," said the boy that night at supper, " what 
 ought the wicked servant to have done with his 
 talent?" 
 
 " Parson told you that plain enough, if you'd a-been 
 listening." 
 
 " But what do you think ? " 
 
 " I don't need to think when the Bible tells me. 
 ' Thou wicked and slothful servant,' it says, ' thou 
 oughtest to have put my money to the exchangers, 
 and then I should have received mine own with 
 usury.' " 
 
 " That means he ought to have lent it ? " 
 
 " Yes, sure." 
 
 " Well, now," said the boy, nodding, " / think he 
 ought to have borrowed." 
 
 Nicholas stared at his son gloomily. "Setting 
 yourself up agcn' the Scriptures, hey? It's time you 
 were a-bed." 
 
 "But, father"— 
 
 The ex -soldier seldom gave way to passion, but 
 now he banged his fist down on the table. "Go to 
 bed!" he shouted. "Talk to me of borrowing! 
 Don't my shoulders ache wi' the curse of it?" 
 
 Martin took his discovery off and nursed it. By 
 2
 
 18 SHINING I'EUHY 
 
 and by another grew out of it : If the wicked servant 
 be making thirty per cent, against the other's ten, he 
 can afford for a time to abate some of his profit, lower 
 his prices, and, by underselling, drive the other lout of 
 the market. 
 
 He grew up a tall and taciturn lad, pondering his 
 thoughts while he dug and planted with his father 
 in the kitchen-gardens. For this from the age of 
 eighteen he received a small wage, which he carefully 
 put aside. Then in 1800 his uncle Michael died, and 
 left him a legacy of £50. He invested it in the 
 privateering trade, in which the harbour did a brisk 
 business just then. Three years later his father 
 suffered a stroke of paralysis — a slight one, but it 
 confined him to his room for some weeks. Mean- 
 while, Martin took charge. 
 
 " I've been looking into your accounts," he announced 
 one day, as soon as his father could bear talking to. 
 " Then you've been taking an infernal liberty." 
 " I see you've cleared off two of the mortgages — on 
 the home estate here and the Nanscawne property. 
 You're making, one way and another, close on .£500 
 a year , half of which goes to paying up interest and 
 reducing the principal by degrees." 
 " That's about it." 
 
 " And to my knowledge three of your tenants are 
 making from .£200 to ,£400 by growing corn, which 
 you might grow yourself. Was ever such folly ? 
 Look at the price corn is making." 
 
 " Look at the labour. How can I afford it ? " 
 
 " By borrowing again on the uncumbered property." 
 
 " Your old lidden again ? I take my oath I'll never
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 19 
 
 raise a penny on Hall so long as I live ! With blood 
 and sweat I've paid off that mortgage, and I'll set 
 my curse on you if you renew it when I'm gone." 
 
 " We'll try the other, then. Your father raised 
 £1500 on the Nanscawne lands, and spent it on cards 
 and ropery. We'll raise the same money, and double 
 it in three years. If we don't — well, I've made £500 
 of my ov/n, and I'll engage to hand you over every 
 farthing of it." 
 
 " Well," his father gave in, " gain or loss, it will fall 
 on you, and pretty soon. I wasn't built for a long 
 span ; my father's sins have made life bitter to me, 
 and I thank God the end's near. But if you have 
 .£500 to spare, I can't see why you drive me afield to 
 borrow." 
 
 " To teach you a lesson, perhaps. As soon as you're 
 fit for it, we'll drive over to Damelioc, and have a try 
 with the new owner. He'll jump at us. The two 
 properties went together once, and when he hears our 
 tale, he'll say to himself, ' Oho ! here's a chance to 
 get 'em together again.' He'll think, of course, that 
 you are in difficulties. But mind you stand out, and 
 don't you pay more than five per cent." 
 
 Here it must be explained that the great Damelioc 
 
 tates, after passing through several hands, had come 
 in 1 801 to an Irishman, a Mr. Eustatius Burke, who 
 had made no small part of his fortune by voting for 
 the Union. Mr. Burke, as Martin rightly guessed, 
 would have given something more than the value of 
 Hall to add it to Damelioc ; and so, when Nicholas 
 Kosewarne drove over and petitioned for a loan of 
 £1500, he lent with alacrity. He knew enough of
 
 20 SHINING FERRY 
 
 the situation to be thoroughly deceived. After Nans- 
 cawne, he would reach his hand out upon Hall itself. 
 He lent the sum at five per cent., and dreamed of an 
 early foreclosure. 
 
 Armed with ready money, the two Rosewarnes 
 called in the leases of their fields, hired labourers, 
 sowed corn, harvested, and sold at war prices. They 
 bought land — still upon mortgage — on the other side 
 of the harbour, and at the close of the great year 
 1 812 (when the price of wheat soared far above £6 
 a quarter) Nicholas Rosewarne died a moderately 
 rich man. By this time Martin had started a victual- 
 ling yard in the town, a shipbuilding yard, and an 
 emporium near the Barbican, Plymouth, where he 
 purveyed ships' stores and slop-clothing for merchant 
 seamen. He made money, too, as agent for most of 
 the smuggling companies along the coast, although 
 he embarked little of his own wealth in the business, 
 and never assisted in an actual run of the goods. 
 He had ceased to borrow actively now, for other 
 people's money came to him unsought, to be used. 
 
 The Rosewarnes, as large employers of labour, paid 
 away considerable sums weekly in wages. But those 
 were times of paper money. All coin was scarce, 
 and in some villages a piece of gold would not be 
 seen in a twelvemonth. Martin and his father paid 
 for labour in part by orders on their own shops ; for 
 the rest, and at first for convenience rather than 
 profit, they set up a bank and issued their own notes 
 — those for one or two pounds payable at their own 
 house, and those for larger sums by their London 
 agent. At first these notes would be cashed at once.
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 21 
 
 By and by they began to pass as ordinary tender. 
 Before long, people who possessed a heap of this 
 paper learnt that the Rosewarnes would give them 
 interest for it as well as for money, and bethought 
 them that, if hoarded, it ran the risk of robbery, 
 besides being unproductive. Timidly and at long 
 intervals men came to Martin and asked him to take 
 charge of their wealth. He agreed, of course. " Use 
 the money of others " was still his motto. So Rose- 
 warne's became a deposit bank. 
 
 To the end Nicholas imperfectly understood these 
 operations. By a clause in his will he begged his son 
 as a favour to pay off every penny of mortgage money. 
 On the morning after the funeral, Martin stuffed 
 three stout rolls of bank-notes into his pocket, and 
 rode over to Damelioc. Mr. Burke had for six years 
 been Lord Killiow, in the peerage of Ireland, and for 
 two years a Privy Councillor. He received Martin 
 affably. He recognised that this yeoman-looking 
 fellow had been too clever for him, and bore no 
 malice. 
 
 " I've a proposition to make to you, Rosewarne," 
 said he, as he signed the receipts. " You are a vastly 
 clever man, and I judge you to be trustworthy. For 
 my part, I hate lawyers " — 
 
 "Amen !" put in Martin. 
 
 " And I thought of asking you to act as my steward 
 at a salary. It won't take up a great deal of your 
 time," urged his lordship; for Martin had walked to 
 the long window, and stood there, gazing out over 
 the park, with his hands clasped beneath his coal- 
 tails.
 
 22 SHINING FERRY 
 
 "As for that, I've time to spare," answered Martin. 
 " Banking's the easiest business in the world. When 
 it's hard, it's wrong. But would you give me a free 
 hand ? " 
 
 " I cannot bind my brother Patrick, if that's what 
 you mean. When I'm in the grave he must act 
 according to his folly. If he chooses to dismiss 
 you"— 
 
 " I'll chance that. But you are asking a good deal 
 of me. Your brother is an incurable gambler. He 
 owes something like .£20,000 at this moment — money 
 borrowed mainly on post obits" 
 
 " You are well posted." 
 
 " I have reason to be. Man — my lord, I mean — he 
 will want money, and what's to prevent me adding 
 Damelioc to Hall, as you would have added Hall to 
 Damelioc ? " 
 
 " There's the boy, Rosewarne. I can tie up the 
 estate on the boy." 
 
 Martin Rosewarne smiled. " Your brother's is a 
 good boy," he said. " You can tie up the money with 
 him. Or you may make me steward, and I'll give 
 you my word he shall not be ousted." 
 
 Eustatius, first Lord Killiow, died in 1822, and his 
 brother, Patrick Henry, succeeded to the title and 
 estates. Martin Rosewarne retained his stewardship. 
 To be sure he made an obliging steward. He saw 
 that the man must go his own gait, and also that he 
 was drinking himself to death. So where a timid 
 treasurer would have closed the purse-strings, he un- 
 loosed them. He cut down timber, he raised mort- 
 gages as soon as asked — all to hasten the end. Thus
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 23 
 
 encouraged, the second Lord Killiow ran his consti- 
 tution to a standstill, and succumbed in 1832. The 
 heir was at that time an undergraduate at Christ- 
 church, Oxford, and already the author of a treatise 
 of one hundred and fifty pages on The Limits of the 
 Human Intelligence. On leaving the University he 
 put on a white hat and buff waistcoat, and made 
 violent speeches against the Reform Bill. Later, he 
 sobered down into a " philosophic " Radical ; became 
 Commissioner of Works ; married an actress in 
 London, Polly Wilkins by name ; and died a year 
 later, in 1850, at Rome, of malarial fever, leaving no 
 heir. Lady Killiow — whom we shall meet — buried 
 him decently, and returned to spend the rest of her 
 days in seclusion at Damelioc, committing all busi- 
 ness to her steward, John Rosewarne. 
 
 For Martin Rosewarne had taken to wife in 18 14 
 a yeoman's daughter from the Meneage district, west 
 of Falmouth, and the issue of that marriage was a 
 daughter, who grew up to marry a ship's captain, 
 against her parents' wishes, and a son, John, whom 
 his father had set himself to train in his own ideas of 
 business. 
 
 In intellect the boy inherited his father's strength, 
 if something less than his originality. But in temper, 
 as well as in size of frame and limb, he threatened at 
 first to be a throw-back to Nicholas, his great-grand- 
 father of evil memory. All that his father could 
 teach he learnt aptly. But his passions were his 
 i), and from fifteen 1m eighteen a devil seemed to 
 less tin- lad. II'- had no sooner mastered the 
 banking business than lie flatly refused to cross the
 
 il SHINING FERRY 
 
 bank's threshold. For two years he dissipated all 
 his early promise iti hunting, horse-breaking, wrest- 
 ling at fairs, prize-fighting, drinking, gaming, spark- 
 ing. Then, on a day after a furious quarrel at 
 home, he disappeared, and for another three years 
 his parents had never a word of him. 
 
 It was rumoured afterwards that he had enlisted, 
 following his grandfather's example, and had spent 
 at least some part of these wander-years as private 
 in a West India regiment. At any rate, one fine 
 morning in 1838 he returned, bringing with him a 
 wife and an infant son, and it appeared that some- 
 how he had exorcised, or at least chained, his devil. 
 He settled down quietly at Hall, where meanwhile 
 business had been prospering, and where now it put 
 forth new vigour. 
 
 It was John who foresaw the decline in agriculture, 
 and turned his father's attention from wheat-growing 
 to mining. He opened up the granite and china-clay 
 on the moorland beyond the town, and a railway line 
 to bring these and other minerals down to the coast. 
 He built ships, and in times of depression he bought 
 them up, and made them pay good interest on their 
 low prices. He bought up the sean-boats for miles 
 along the coast, and took the pilchard-fishery into his 
 hands. Regularly in the early spring a fleet sailed 
 for the Mediterranean with fish for the Spaniards and 
 Italians to eat during Lent. Larger ships — tall three- 
 masters — took emigrants to America, and returned 
 with timber for his building-yards, mines, and clay- 
 works. The banking business had been sold by his 
 father not long before the great panic of 1825.
 
 FATHERS AND CHILDREN 25 
 
 In this same year 1825 John lost his first wife. 
 After a short interval he sought and found a second 
 — this time a lady of good family on the shores of 
 the Tamar. She bore him a daughter, Anne, who 
 grew up to make an unhappy match, and died 
 untimely. The children at play in the garden were 
 hers. Her mother survived her five years. 
 
 As men count prosperity, John Rosewarne had 
 lived prosperously. He had a philosophy, too, to 
 steel him against the blows of fate, and behind his 
 philosophy a great natural courage. Nevertheless, as 
 he gazed across his acres for the last time — knowing 
 well that it might be the last — and across them to 
 Damelioc, the wider acres of his stewardship, his 
 eyes for one weak moment grew dim. He had 
 reached the stile at the summit of Parc-an-hal, and 
 was leaning there, when he felt a cool, damp touch 
 upon his fingers. The little greyhound, puzzled at 
 his standing there so long motionless, had reached 
 up on her hind legs, and was licking his hand 
 affectionately. 
 
 He frowned, pushed her off, and started to descend 
 the hill. Night was falling fast, with a heavy dew. 
 The children had left their play and crept to bed. 
 They never sought him to say good-night. 
 
 He returned slowly, leaning on his staff, went to 
 room, lit the lamp, and spent a couple of hours 
 with his papers. This had become his nightly habit 
 of late. 
 
 On Wednesday he arose early, packed a hand-bag, 
 crossed the ferry, and took train for Plymouth.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 rosewarne's pilgrimage 
 
 FROM the railway station at Plymouth' John 
 Rosewarne walked straight to Lockyer Street, 
 to a house with a brass plate on the door, and 
 on the brass plate the name of a physician famous 
 throughout the West of England. 
 
 The doctor had just come to the end of his morn- 
 ing consultations, and received Rosewarne at once. 
 The pair talked for five minutes on indifferent 
 matters, then of Paris, and the terrible doings of 
 the Commune — for this was the month of May 
 1 87 1. At length Rosewarne stood up. 
 
 " Best get it over," said he. 
 
 The doctor felt his pulse, took the stethoscope and 
 listened, tapped and sounded him, back and chest, 
 then listened again. 
 
 " Worse ? " asked Rosewarne. 
 
 " It is worse," answered the doctor gravely. 
 
 " I knew it. One or two in my family have died 
 in the same way. The pains are sharper of late, 
 and more frequent." 
 
 " You keep that little phial handy ? " 
 
 Rosewarne showed where it lay, close at hand in 
 his watch-pocket. 
 
 26
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PILGRIMAGE 27 
 
 " How long ? " he asked. 
 
 " A few months, perhaps." The doctor seemed to 
 hesitate. 
 
 " And you won't answer for that ? " 
 
 u With care. It is folly for a man like you to be 
 overworking." 
 
 Rosewarne laughed grimly. " You're right there, 
 and I've often enough asked myself why I do it. To 
 what end, good Lord ! But I'm taking no care, all 
 the same. Good-bye." 
 
 * Good-bye, my friend." The doctor did not re- 
 monstrate further. He knew his man. 
 
 From Lockyer Street Rosewarne walked to his 
 hotel, ordered a beef-steak and a pint of cham- 
 pagne, and lunched leisurably. Lunch over, he lit 
 a cigar, and strolled in the direction of the Barbi- 
 can. The streets were full of holiday-keepers, and 
 he counted a dozen brakes full of workers pouring 
 out of town to breathe the air of Dartmoor on this 
 fine afternoon. He himself was conscious of elation. 
 
 " I'll drink it regularly," he muttered to himself. 
 " It's hard if a man with maybe a month more to 
 live cannot afford himself champagne." 
 
 The air in Southside Street differed from that of 
 Dartmoor, being stuffy, not to say malodorous. He 
 rapped on the door of a dingy office, and it was 
 opened by his son, Mr. Samuel Rosewarne. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Sam?" he nodded, not offering to 
 hake hands. "All alone? That's right. I hope, 
 by the way, I'm not depriving you of a holiday?" 
 
 " I seldom take a holiday," Mr. Sam answered. 
 
 The old man eyed him ironically. Mr. Sam wore
 
 28 SHINING FERRY 
 
 a black suit, with some show of dingy white shirt- 
 front, relieved by a wisp of black cravat and two 
 onyx studs. His coat-cuffs were long and frayed, 
 and his elastic-side boots creaked as he led the way 
 to the office. 
 
 In the office the old man came to business at once. 
 " First of all," said he, with a nod toward the safe, 
 " I'd like a glance into your books." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," answered Mr. Sam, after a moment's 
 hesitation. He unlocked the safe. " Do you wish to 
 take the books in order? You will find it a long 
 business." 
 
 "Man, I don't propose to audit your accounts. If 
 you let me pick and choose, half an hour will tell me 
 all I want." 
 
 Well knowing that his son detested the smell of 
 tobacco, he pulled out another cigar and lit it. " You 
 can open the window," said he, " if you prefer the smell 
 of your street. Is this the pass-book ? " 
 
 For about three-quarters of an hour he ransacked 
 the ledgers, tracking casual entries from one to 
 another apparently at random. His fingers raced 
 through the pages. Now and again he looked up 
 to put a sharp question ; and paused, drumming on 
 the table while Mr. Sam explained. Once he said, 
 " Bad debt ? Not a bit ; the man was right enough, 
 if you had made inquiries." 
 
 " I did make inquiries." 
 
 " Ay, into his balance. So you pinched him at the 
 wrong moment, and pinched out nincpence in the 
 pound. Why the devil couldn't you have learnt 
 something of the man} He was all right. If you'd
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PILGRIMAGE 29 
 
 done that, you might have recovered every penny, 
 earned his gratitude, and done dashed good business." 
 
 He shut the ledger with a slam. " Lock 'em up," 
 he commanded, lighting a fresh cigar, " and come up 
 to the Hoe for a stroll. Where the deuce did you 
 pick up that hat ? " 
 
 "Bankrupt stock." 
 
 " I thought so. Maybe you've invested in a full 
 suit of mourning for me, at the same time ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Why not? The books are all right. You've 
 no range. Still, within your scope you're efficient. 
 You'll get to your goal, such as it is. You wear 
 a hat that makes me ill, but in some way you and 
 your hat will represent the survival of the fittest. 
 What's the boy like?" 
 
 " He ails at times, sir — being without a mother's 
 care. I am having him privately instructed. He has 
 some youthful stirrings toward grace." 
 
 Old Rosewarne swung round at a standstill. 
 " Grace ? " he echoed, for the moment supposing it 
 the name of a girl. Then perceiving his mistake, 
 he broke out into a short laugh ; but the laugh ended 
 bitterly, and his face twitched with pain. 
 
 "Look here, Sam; I'm going to leave you the 
 money. Don't stare — and don't, I beg, madden mc 
 with your thanks" — 
 
 " I'm sure, sir" — 
 
 "You'll get it because I can't help myself. There's 
 your half-sister's children at home; but of what use 
 to me is a girl or a blind boy? You are narrow 
 — narrow as the grave: but I find that, like the
 
 30 SHINING FERRY 
 
 grave, you are inevitable ; and, like the grave, 
 you keep what you get. For the kind of finance 
 that was the true game of manhood to your grand- 
 father and me, you have no capacity whatever. No, 
 I cannot explain. Finance? Why, you haven't 
 even a sense of it. Yet in a way you are capable. 
 You will make the money yield interest, and will 
 keep the race going. That is what I look to — you 
 will keep the race going. Now I want to speak 
 about that boy of yours. Do me the only favour 
 I have ever asked you — send him to a public school, 
 and afterwards to college, and let him have his fling." 
 
 Sam thought his father must have gone mad. 
 " What, sir ! After all you have said of such places ! 
 ' Dens of idleness,' ' sinks of iniquity ' — I have heard 
 you scores of times ! " 
 
 " I spoke as a fool. 'Twas my punishment, 
 perhaps, to believe it; but, Lord!" — he eyed his 
 son up and down — " to think my punishment should 
 take this form ! " He caught Sam's arm suddenly 
 and wheeled him about in face of a glass shop-front. 
 " Man, look at yourself! Make the boy something 
 different from tJiat\ Do what I'd have done for 
 you if ever you had given me a chance. Turn 
 him loose among gentlemen ; don't be afraid if he 
 idles and wastes money; let him riot out his youth 
 if he will — he'll be learning all the time, learning 
 something you don't know how to teach, and maybe 
 when his purse is emptied he'll come back to you 
 a gentleman. I tell you there's no difference in 
 the world like that between a gentleman and a 
 man who's not a gentleman. Money can't buy
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PILGRIMAGE 31 
 
 it ; and, after the start, money can't change or 
 hide it. The thing is there, or it isn't." 
 
 " Whatever the thing is," said Sam sullenly, " you 
 are asking me to peril my son's soul for it." 
 
 They had reached the Hoe by this time. John 
 Rosewarne dropped upon a bench and sat resting 
 both hands on his staff and gazing over the twinkling 
 waters of the Sound. 
 
 " Anne married a gentleman," pursued Sam. 
 
 " Ay, and a rake. A-ah ! " muttered the old man 
 after a moment, drawing a long breath, " if only that 
 boy of hers weren't blind ! But he doesn't carry the 
 name, whileyou " — He broke off with a savage laugh. 
 " What's that you said a moment ago ? — something 
 about immortal souls." 
 
 " I said there's a world beyond this, and " — 
 
 "Is there? That's what I'm concerned to know 
 just now. And you ? What are you proposing to 
 do when you get there ? " He withdrew his eyes 
 from the bright seascape and let them travel slowly 
 over his son. " You ! sitting there like a blot on 
 God's sunshine ! By what right should you expect 
 another world, who have cut such a figure in this 
 one? I have known love and lust, and drink and 
 hard work and hard fighting ; I have been down in 
 the depths, and again I have known moments to 
 make a man smack his hands together for joy to 
 be alive and doing. But you? What kind of man 
 arc you, you son of mine? What do you live for? 
 Why did you marry? And what did you and your 
 poor woman find to talk about?" 
 
 Whatever bullying Sam suffered, he had his revenge
 
 32 SHINING FERRY 
 
 in this — that he and no other man could exasperate 
 his father to weakness. He rubbed his thin side 
 whiskers now and muttered something about "an 
 acceptable sacrifice." 
 
 The old man jabbed viciously at the gravel with 
 his staff. " And your religion ? " he broke forth 
 again. "What is it? In some secret way it satisfies 
 you — but how? I look into the Bible, and I find 
 that the whole of religion rests on a man's giving 
 himself away to help others. I don't believe in it 
 myself; I believe in the exact contrary. Still there 
 the thing is, set out in black and white. It 
 upsets law and soldiering and nine-tenths of men's 
 doings in trade : to me it's folly ; but so it stands, 
 honest as daylight. When did you help a man down 
 on his luck ? or forgive your debtor ? You'll get my 
 money because you never did aught of the kind. 
 Yet somehow you're a Christian, and prate of 
 your mean life as an acceptable sacrifice. In my 
 belief you're a Christian precisely because Chris- 
 tianity — how you work it out I don't know — will 
 give you a sanction for any dirty trick that comes 
 in your way. When good feeling, or even common 
 honour, denies you, there's always a text somewhere 
 to oil your conscience." 
 
 " I've one, sir, on which I can rely — ' Be just, and 
 fear not.' " 
 
 "I'll test it. You'll have my money; on which 
 you hardly dared to count, eh? Be honest." 
 
 " Only on so much of it as is entailed, sir." 
 
 For a while John Rosewarne sat silent, with his 
 eyes on the horizon.
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PILGRIMAGE 33 
 
 " That," said he at length, " is just what you could 
 not count on." He turned and looked Sam squarely 
 in the face. " You were born out of wedlock, my 
 son." 
 
 Sam's hand gripped the iron arm of the bench. 
 The muscles of his face scarcely moved, but its 
 sallow tint changed, under his father's eyes, to a 
 sickly drab. 
 
 " Ay," pursued the old man, " I am sorry for you at 
 this moment ; but you mustn't look for apologies and 
 repentance and that sort of thing. The fact is, I 
 never could feel about it in that way. I was young 
 and fairly wild, and it happened. One doesn't think 
 of possible injury to someone who doesn't yet exist. 
 But that, I grant you, doesn't make it any the less an 
 injury. Now what have you to say ? " 
 
 " The sins of the fathers " — 
 
 " — are visited on the children : quite so. After- 
 wards we did our best, and married. No one knows ; 
 no one has ever guessed ; and the proof would be 
 hard to trace. In case of accident, I give you Port 
 Royal for a clue." 
 
 Sam rose and stood for a moment staring gloomily 
 down on the gravel. " Why did you tell me, then ? " 
 he broke out. " What need was there to tell ? " 
 
 His father winced, for the first time. " I see your 
 point. Why didn't I, you ask, having played the 
 game so far, play it out? Why couldn't I take my 
 secret with me into the last darkness, and be judged 
 for it — my own sole sin and complete? Well, but 
 there's the blind child. By law the house and home 
 te would be his. I might have kept silence, to be 
 3
 
 34 SHINING FERRY 
 
 sure, and let him be robbed ; but somehow I couldn't. 
 I've a conscience somewhere, I suppose." 
 
 " Have you ? " Sam flamed out, with sudden spirit. 
 "A nice sort of conscience it must be! I call it 
 cowardice, this dragging me in to help you compen- 
 sate the child. Conscience? If you had one, you 
 wouldn't be shifting the responsibility on to mine." 
 
 " You are mistaken," said his father calmly. " And, 
 by the way, I advise you not to take that tone with 
 me. It may all be very proper under the circum- 
 stances ; but there's the simple fact that I won't 
 stand it. You're mistaken," he repeated. " I mean 
 to settle the compensation alone, without consulting 
 you ; though, by George ! if 'tweren't for pitying the 
 poor child, I'd like to leave it to you as a religious 
 man, and watch you developing your reasons for 
 giving him nothing." 
 
 " And it was you," muttered Sam, with a kind of 
 stony wonder, " who advised me just now to let my 
 son run wild ! " 
 
 " I did, and I do." John Rosewarne stood up and 
 gripped his staff. " By the way, too," he said, " your 
 mother was a good woman." 
 
 " I don't want to hear anything about it." 
 
 " I know ; but I wanted to tell you. Good-bye." 
 
 He turned abruptly and went his way down the 
 hill. As he went, his lips moved. He was talking 
 not to himself, but to an unseen companion — 
 
 " Mary ! Mary !— that this should be the fruit of 
 our sowing ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 rosewarne's penance 
 
 BESIDE the winding Avon above Warwick bridge 
 there stretches a flat meadow, along the brink 
 of which on a summer evening you may often 
 count a score of anglers seated and watching their 
 floats ; decent citizens of Warwick, with a sprinkling 
 of redcoats from the garrison. They say that two- 
 thirds of the Trappist brotherhood are ex-soldiers ; 
 and perhaps if we knew the reason we might also 
 know why angling has a peculiar fascination for the 
 military. 
 
 Angling was but a pretext, however, with a young 
 corporal of the 6th Regiment, who sat a few yards 
 away on John Rosewarne's right, and smoked his 
 pipe, and cast frequent furtive glances, now along 
 the river path, now back and across the meadow 
 where another path led from the town. Each of 
 these glances ended in a resentful stare at his too- 
 near neighbour, who fished on unregarding. 
 
 " Is this a favourite corner of yours? " the corporal 
 asked after a while, with meaning. 
 
 " I have fished on this exact spot for thirty-five 
 years," answered John Roscwarne, not lifting his 
 eyes from the float. 
 
 36
 
 36 SHINING FEKKY 
 
 The corporal whistled. " Thirty-five years ! It's 
 queer, now, that I never set eyes on you before 
 — and I come here pretty often." 
 
 Rosewarne let a full minute go by before he 
 answered again. " There's nothing queer about it, 
 unless you've been stationed long in Warwick." 
 
 " Best part of a year." 
 
 " Quite so : I fish in Avon once a year only." 
 
 " Belong to the town ? " 
 
 " No ; nor within two hundred miles of it." 
 
 " You must think better of the sport than I do, 
 to come all that distance." 
 
 John Rosewarne lifted his eyes for the first time 
 and turned them upon the young man. 
 
 " What sport ? " he asked. 
 
 "Eh? Why, fishing, to be sure. What else?" 
 stammered the corporal, taken aback. 
 
 " Tut ! " said the old man curtly. " Here she 
 comes. Now, what are you going to do ? " 
 
 Without waiting for an answer, he bent his gaze 
 on the float again, and kept it fastened there, as a 
 pretty shop-girl came strolling along the river path. 
 She had taken off her hat, of broad-brimmed straw 
 with artificial poppies and cornflowers, and swung 
 it in her hand as she came. Her eyes roamed the 
 landscape carelessly, avoiding only that particular 
 spot where the corporal, as she approached, scrambled 
 to his feet ; then, her start of surprise was admirable. 
 
 " Oh, it's you ! Good-evening." 
 
 " Good-evening, miss." 
 
 "Why, whoever — ! It seems to me you spend 
 most of your time fishing."
 
 ROSE WARNED PENANCE 37 
 
 She paused, gathering in her skirt a little — and this 
 obviously was the cue for a gallant soldier. The 
 corporal began, indeed, to wind up his line, but with 
 a foolish grin and a glance at Rosewarne's back. 
 
 " It keeps beautiful weather," he answered at 
 length. 
 
 "/ call it sultry." She held out her hat with a 
 little deprecating laugh. " I took it off for the sake 
 of fresh air," she explained. Then, as he stood stock- 
 still, a flush crept up her cheek to her pretty forehead. 
 
 " Well, good-evening ; I won't interrupt you by 
 talking," she said, and began to move away. 
 
 " Come to think of it, it do look like thunder," the 
 corporal remarked to Rosewarne, staring after her 
 and then up at the sky. 
 
 "If you had eyes in your head, you'd have seen 
 that without her telling you. That cloud yonder has 
 been rising against the wind for an hour. Look you 
 along the bank, how every man Jack is unjointing 
 his rod and making for home. Go, and leave me in 
 peace ! " 
 
 He did not turn his head even when the corporal, 
 having packed together his gear, wished him good- 
 night and hurried after the print frock as it vanished 
 in the twilit shadows. One or two of the departing 
 anglers paused as they went by to promise him that 
 a storm was imminent and the fish had ceased 
 feeding, He thanked them, yet sat on — solitary, in 
 leaden dusk. 
 
 The scene he had just witnessed — how it called up 
 the irremediable past, with all the memories which 
 had drawn him hither, summer after summer ! And
 
 38 SHINING FERRY 
 
 yet how common it was and minutely unimportant ! 
 Nightly by the banks of Avon couples had been 
 courting — thousands in these thirty-five years — each 
 of them dreaming, poor fools, that their moment's 
 passion held the world in its hands. But the world 
 teemed with rivers ten times lordlier than Avon — 
 rivers stretching out in an endless map, with bridges 
 on which lovers met and whispered, with banks 
 down which they went with linked arms into the 
 shadows — 
 
 "Were I but young for thee, as I hae been, 
 We should hae been gallopin' doun in yon green, 
 And linkin' it owre the lily-white lea — 
 And wow gin I were but young for thee ! " 
 
 He had been young, and had loved and wronged a 
 woman, and bitterly repented. He had married her, 
 and marriage had killed neither love nor remorse. 
 The woman was dead long since: he had married 
 again, but never forgotten her nor ceased to repent. 
 She, a petty tradesman's daughter of Warwick, had 
 collected her savings and taken ship for the West 
 Indies, trusting to his word, facing a winter's passage 
 in the sole hope that he would right her. Until the 
 day of embarking she had never seen the sea ; and 
 the sea, after buffeting her to the verge of death, in 
 the end betrayed her. A gale delayed the ship, and 
 in the height of it her child was born. Rosewarne, 
 a private soldier, went to his captain as soon as she 
 was landed, made a clean breast of it, and married 
 her. But it was too late. She lived to return with 
 him to England ; but he knew well enough when she 
 died that her sufferings on the passage out, and the
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 39 
 
 abiding anguish of her shame, had killed her. A 
 common tale ! Men and women still go the way of 
 their instinct, by which the race survives. " All the 
 rivers run into the sea, and yet the sea is not full. 
 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be, 
 and that which is done is that which shall be done." 
 
 A tale as common as sunset ! Yet upon all rivers 
 and upon every bridge and willow-walk along their 
 courses the indifferent sun shines for each pair of 
 fools with a difference, lighting their passion with a 
 separate flame. The woman was dead ; and he — he 
 that had been young — sat face to face with death. 
 
 He leaned forward, oblivious of the clouded dusk, 
 with his half-shut eyes watching the grey gleam of 
 the river ; but his mind's eye saw the shadowy mead 
 behind him, and a girlish figure crossing it with feet 
 that seemed to faint, holding her back from doom, yet 
 to be impelled against their will. 
 
 They drew nearer. He heard their step, and faced 
 about with a start. An actual woman stood there on 
 the river path, most like in the dusk to that other of 
 thirty-five years ago ; but whereas she had worn a 
 print frock, this one was clad in total black. 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne " — she began ; but her words came 
 to a halt, checked by a near flash of lightning and by 
 what it revealed. 
 
 Ik: was in the act of rising — had risen, in fact, on 
 one knee — when a spasm of pain took him, and his 
 hand went up to his breast. For a moment he knelt 
 so, turning on her a face of anguish ; then sank and 
 dropped in a heap at her feet. 
 
 Quick a, thought she was down on her knees
 
 40 SHINING FERRY 
 
 beside him, and, slipping an arm beneath his head, 
 drew it upon her lap. While with swift fingers she 
 loosened his collar and neckcloth, a peal of thunder 
 rumbled out, and the first large raindrops fell splash- 
 ing on her hand. She recalled that last gesture of 
 his, and with sudden inspiration searched in his 
 breast-pocket, found and drew out a small phial, 
 uncorked it, and forced the liquid between his teeth 
 before they clenched in a second spasm. Two or 
 three sharp flashes followed the first. In the glare of 
 them her eyes searched along the river-bank, if haply 
 help might be near ; but all the anglers had departed. 
 Rosewarne's face stared up at her, blue as a dead 
 man's in the dazzling light. At first it seemed to 
 twitch with each opening of the heavens ; but this 
 must have been a trick of eyesight, for his head lay 
 quiet against her arm as she raised him a little, 
 shielding him against the torrential rain which now 
 hissed down, in ten seconds drenching her to the 
 skin, blotting out river and meadow in a sheet of 
 grey. It forced her to stoop her shoulders, and, so 
 covering him, she put out a hand and laid it over his 
 heart. Yes, it beat, though feebly. Once more she 
 picked up the phial and gave him to drink, and in a 
 little while he stirred feebly and found his voice. 
 
 " Rain ? Is it rain ? " he muttered. 
 
 "Yes ; but I can spread my skirt over you. It will 
 keep off a little. Are you better ? " 
 
 "Better? Yes, better. Let me feel the rain — it 
 does me good." He lay silent for a minute or so. 
 " I shall be right again in a few minutes. Did you 
 find the phial ? "
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 41 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Good girl. It was touch and go." By and 
 by he made a movement to sit up. " Let us get 
 home quickly. You can throw the rod into the 
 river. I shan't want it again." 
 
 But she stood up, and, groping for the rod, drew 
 the float ashore and untackled it, still in the hissing 
 rain. The storm, after a brief lull, had redoubled 
 its rage. The darkness opened and shut as with a 
 rapidly moving slide, the white battlements of Caesar's 
 Tower gleaming and vanishing above the castle 
 elms, and reappearing while their fierce candour yet 
 blinded the eye. The thunder-peals, blending, 
 wrapped Warwick as with one roar of artillery. 
 Rosewarne had risen, and stood panting. He grasped 
 her shoulder. " Come ! " he commanded. The girl, 
 dazzled by the lightning, puzzled by his sudden 
 renewal of strength, turned and peered at him. He 
 declined her arm. They walked back across the 
 sodden meadow to the town, over the roofs of which, 
 as the storm passed away northward, the lightning 
 yet glimmered at intervals, turning the gaslights to a 
 dirty orange. 
 
 At the summit of the High Street, hard by the 
 Leycester Hospital, they came to the doorway of a 
 small shuttered shop, over which by the light of a 
 street lamp one could read the legend, "J. Marvin, 
 Second-hand Bookseller." The girl opened the 
 door with a latchkey. An oil lamp burned in an office 
 at the back of the shop — if that can be spoken of as 
 a separate room which was, in fact, entirely walled off 
 with books laid flat and rising in stacks from the
 
 42 SHINING FERRY 
 
 floor. The place, in fact, suggested a cave or den 
 rather than a shop, with stalagmites of piled litera- 
 ture and a subtle pervading odour of dust and 
 decayed leather. The girl, after shutting the bolts 
 behind her, led the way cautiously, and, crossing a 
 passage at the rear of the shop, opened a door upon 
 a far more cheerful scene. Here, in a neat parlour 
 hung with old prints and mezzotints and water- 
 colours, a hanging lamp shed its rays on a China 
 bowl heaped with Warwickshire roses, and on a 
 white cloth and a table spread for supper. 
 
 " H'm ! " grunted Rosewarne, glancing in through 
 the doorway, while she lit a candle for him at the 
 foot of the stairs. " Your father and I used to sup 
 in the kitchen, with old Selina to wait on us." 
 
 " But since there is no longer any Selina ! I had 
 to pension her off, poor old soul, and she is gone to 
 the almshouse." 
 
 She handed him the light. 
 
 " Now, if you will go up to your room, I will fetch 
 the hot water, and then you must give me your change 
 of clothes. They shall be warmed for a few minutes 
 at the kitchen fire, and you shall have them hot-and- 
 hot." 
 
 " It seems to me that while all this is doing, you 
 will stand an excellent chance of rheumatic fever." 
 
 " Oh, I shall be all right," she announced cheer- 
 fully. " No — don't look at me, please. I know very 
 well that the dye has run out of these crapes, and 
 my face is beautifully streaked with black ! Can you 
 walk upstairs alone ? Very well. And if you feel 
 another attack coming, you are to call me at once."
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 43 
 
 She must have been expeditious ; for when he 
 came downstairs again he found her awaiting him in 
 the parlour, clad in a frock of duffel-grey, which, with 
 her damp, closely plaited hair, gave her a Quakerish 
 look. Yet the frock became her; the natural wave 
 of her hair, defying moisture, showed here and there 
 rebelliously, and her cheeks glowed after a vigorous 
 towelling. 
 
 Rosewarne drew from under his coat a bottle of 
 champagne, and set it on the table, where the lamp's 
 ray fell full on its gold foil. Her eyes opened wide ; 
 for he had always visited this house in his oldest 
 clothes and passed for a poor man. 
 
 " Since you insist upon the parlour," said he, " I 
 must try to live up to it." He produced a knife 
 from his pocket, with a pair 'of nippers, and began 
 to cut the wire. " Why are you wearing grey ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 She flushed. " This is my school frock. I have 
 only one suit of mourning as yet." 
 
 " And you sent away Selina. You wanted money, 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 " No," she answered, after a moment, meeting his 
 eyes frankly ; " at least, not in the way you mean. 
 The doctor's bills were heavy, and for years father 
 had done business enough to keep the roof over him 
 and no more. So at first there was — well, a pinch. 
 The books will sell, of course ; two honest men arc 
 already bidding for them — one at Birmingham and 
 the other at Bristol. But meanwhile I must pinch 
 a little or run in debt. I hate debt." 
 
 "And afterwards?" Roseu arne broke off sharply,
 
 44 SHINING FERRY 
 
 with a glance around the table. " But, excuse me, 
 you have laid for one only." 
 
 "If it is your pleasure, Mr. Rosewarne" — 
 
 " Say that I claim it as an honour, Miss Hester," 
 he answered, with a mock-serious bow. 
 
 She laughed, and ran off to the pantry. 
 
 "And afterwards?" he resumed, as they seated 
 themselves. 
 
 " Afterwards ? Oh, I go back to the teaching. I 
 like it, you know." 
 
 He brimmed her glass with champagne, then filled 
 his own. " You saved my life just now, Miss Hester ; 
 and life is good to look forward to, even when a very 
 little remains. I drink to your happiness." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " How old are you ? " 
 
 " I shall be twenty-five in August." 
 
 " And how long have you been teaching ? " 
 
 " Eight years." 
 
 " Ah ! is it eight years since I came and missed 
 you ? I remember, the last time we three supped 
 together — you and your father and I — I remember 
 taking note of you, and telling myself, ' She will be 
 married before I return next year.' Why haven't 
 you married ? " 
 
 It was the essence of Hester Marvin's charm that 
 she dealt straightly with all people. 
 
 " It takes two to make even that quarrel," she 
 answered, frankly and gaily. " Will you believe that 
 nobody has ever asked me ? " 
 
 " Make light of it if you will, but I bid you to 
 beware. You were a good-looking missie, and you
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 45 
 
 have grown — yes, one can say it without making you 
 simper — into a more than good-looking woman. But 
 the days slip by, child, and your looks will slip away 
 with them. You are wasting your life in worrying 
 over other folk's children. Those eyes of yours were 
 meant for children of your own. What's more, you 
 are muddling the world's work. Which do you teach, 
 now — boys or girls ? " 
 
 " Girls for the most part ; but I have a class of 
 small boys." 
 
 " And what do you teach 'em — I mean, as the first 
 and most important thing?" 
 
 Hester knit her brows for a moment before answer- 
 ing. " Well, I suppose, to be honourable to one 
 another and gentle to their sisters." 
 
 "Just so. In other words, you relieve a mother of 
 her proper duty. Who but a mother ought to teach 
 a boy those things, if he's ever to learn 'em ? That's 
 what I call muddling the world's work. By the time 
 a boy gets to school he ought to be ripe for a harder 
 lesson, and learn that life's a fight in which brains 
 and toil bring a man to the top. As for girls, one- 
 half of present-day teaching is time and money 
 thrown away. Teach 'em to be wives and mothers — 
 to sew and cook " — 
 
 " Does your supper displease you, Mr. Rose- 
 warne ? " 
 
 He set down knife and fork with a comical stare 
 around the board. 
 
 " Eh ? No— but did you really— ? " 
 
 Their ryes met, and they both broke into a 
 laugh.
 
 46 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " I should very much like to know," said Hester, 
 resting her elbows on the table and gazing at him 
 over her folded hands, " if you have treated life as a 
 fight in which men get the better of their neighbours." 
 
 He eyed her with sudden, sharp suspicion. 
 
 " You have at any rate a woman's curiosity," said 
 he. " When you wrote to me that your father was 
 dead, but that I might have, for the last time, my 
 usual lodging here, had you any reason to suppose 
 me a rich man ? " 
 
 " I think," answered Hester slowly, after a pause, 
 " that I must have spoken so as to hurt you some- 
 how. If so, I am sorry ; but you must hear now 
 just why I wrote. I knew that, ever since I was born, 
 and long before, you had come once a year and 
 lodged here for a night. I knew that you came 
 because my father was the parish clerk and let you 
 spend the night in St. Mary's Church ; and I know 
 that, though he allowed it secretly, you did no harm 
 there, else he would never have allowed it. Now he 
 is dead, and meanwhile I keep the keys by the parson's 
 wish until a new parish clerk is appointed. And so 
 I wrote, thinking to serve you for one year more as 
 my father had served you for many." 
 
 " I thank you, Miss Hester, and I beg your pardon. 
 Yet there is a question I need to ask, though you 
 may very properly refuse to answer it. Beyond my 
 name and address and my yearly visits, what do you 
 know of me ? " 
 
 " Nothing at all." 
 
 " You must have wondered why I should do this 
 strange thing, year by year ? "
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 47 
 
 " To wonder is not to be inquisitive. Of course 
 I have wondered ; but I supposed that you came to 
 strengthen yourself in some purpose, or to keep alive 
 a memory — of someone dear to you, perhaps. Into 
 what has brought you to us year after year I have no 
 wish at all to pry. But there is a look on your face 
 — and when children come to me with that look they 
 are unhappy with some secret, and want to be under- 
 stood without having to tell all particulars. A school- 
 mistress gets to know that look, and recognises it 
 sometimes in grown-up folk, even in quite old persons. 
 Yes, and there is another look on your face. You are 
 not strong enough to go alone to the church to-night, 
 and you know it." 
 
 " I am going, I tell you." 
 
 He had pushed back his chair, and answered her, 
 after a long pause, during which he watched her 
 removing the cloth. 
 
 " To-morrow you may have recovered ; but to- 
 night you are faint from that attack. If you really 
 must go, will you not let me go too, and take my 
 promise neither to look nor to listen ? " 
 
 "Get me the key," he commanded, and walked 
 obstinately to the door. But there his strength 
 betrayed him. He put out a hand against the jamb. 
 " I am no better than a child," he groaned, and turned 
 weakly to her. " Come if you will, girl. There is 
 nothing to see, nothing to overhear." 
 
 She fetched cloak and bonnet and found the great 
 keys. He and she stepped out by a back entrance 
 upon a lane Leading to the church. The storm had 
 parsed. Aloft, in a clear space of the sky, the moon
 
 48 SHINING FERRY 
 
 rode and a few stars shone down whitely, as if with 
 freshly washed faces. Hester carried a dark lantern 
 under her cloak ; but, within, the church was light 
 enough for Rosewarne to grope his way to his 
 accustomed pew. Hester saw him take his seat there, 
 and choosing a pew at some distance, in the shadow 
 of the south aisle, dropped on her knees. 
 
 Nothing happened. The tall figure in the chancel 
 sat motionless. Rosewarne did not even pray — since 
 he did not believe in God. But because a woman, 
 now long dead, had believed and had implored him 
 to believe also, that they two might one day meet in 
 heaven, he consecrated this night to her, sitting in 
 the habitation of her faith, keeping his gaze upon 
 that spot in the darkness where on a bright Sunday 
 morning a young soldier had caught sight of her and 
 met her eyes for the first time. Year after year he 
 had kept this vigil, concentrating his thought upon 
 her and her faith ; but never for an instant had that 
 faith come near to touching him, except with a senti- 
 mental pity which he rejected, despising it ; never 
 had he come near to piercing the well of that 
 mysterious comfort and releasing its waters. To 
 him the dust of the great dead yonder in the Beau- 
 champ Chapel — dust of men and women who had 
 died in faith — was dust merely, arid, unbedewed by 
 any promise of a life beyond. They had played 
 their parts, and great tombs and canopies covered 
 their final nothingness. This was the last time he 
 would watch, and to-night he knew there was less 
 chance than ever of any miracle ; for weariness 
 weighed on him, and the thought of coming anni-
 
 ROSEWARNE'S PENANCE 49 
 
 hilation held no terror, but only an invitation to be 
 at rest. 
 
 From the tower overhead the airy chimes floated 
 over Warwick, beating out a homely tune to mingle 
 with homely dreams. He sat on, nor stirred. 
 
 The June dawn broke, with the twittering of birds 
 in the churchyard. He stood up and stretched him- 
 self, with a frown for the painted windows with their 
 unreal saints and martyrs. His footsteps as he 
 walked down the aisle did not arouse the girl, who 
 slept in the corner of the pew, with her loosened hair 
 pencilling, as the dawn touched it, lines of red-gold 
 light upon the dark panels. Her face was pale, and 
 sleep gave it a childlike beauty. He understood, 
 as he stooped and touched her shoulder, why the 
 apparition of her on the river-bank had so startled 
 him. 
 
 " Come, child," he said ; " the night is over."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 
 
 A STRANGE impatience haunted Rosewarne on 
 his homeward journey ; an almost intolerable 
 longing to arrive and get something over — he 
 scarcely knew what. When at length he stood on 
 the ferry slipway, with but a furlong or two of water 
 between him and home, the very tranquillity of the 
 scene irritated him subtly — the slow strength of the 
 evening tide, the few ships idle at their moorings, the 
 familiar hush of the town resting after its day's busi- 
 ness. He tapped his foot on the cobbles as though 
 this fretful action could quicken Uncle Nicky Vro, 
 who came rowing across deliberately as ever, working 
 his boat down the farther shore and then allowing the 
 tide to slant it upstream to the landing-place. 
 
 " Eh ? So 'tis you ? " was Nicky's greeting. " Well, 
 and I hope that you've enjoyed your holiday — rpt 
 that I know, for my part, what a holiday means." 
 
 " It's time you took one, then," Rosewarne answered. 
 
 The old man chuckled. " Pretty things would 
 happen if I did ! 'Took a day off, one time, to marry 
 my old woman, and another to bury her, and that's 
 all in five- and -forty year. Not a day's sickness in all 
 that time, thank the Lord ! " 
 
 50
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 51 
 
 Rosewarne watched the old fellow's feeble digging 
 stroke. " I preach capability," he said to himself, 
 "and this is the sort of thing I allow!" His gaze 
 travelled from the oar to the oarsman. " You're 
 getting past your work, all the same," he said aloud. 
 " What does it feel like ? " 
 
 " Eh ? " 
 
 "To give up life little by little. Some men run till 
 they drop — are still running strong, maybe, when the 
 grave opens at their feet, and in they go. With you 
 'tis more like the crumbling of rotten timber : a little 
 dribble of sawdust day by day to show where the 
 worms are boring. What does it feel like ? " 
 
 " I don't feel it at all," Nicky answered cheerfully. 
 " Folks tell me from time to time that I'm getting 
 past. My own opinion is, they're in a greater hurry 
 to get to market than of yore. ' Competition ' — that's 
 a cry sprung up since my young days : it used to be 
 1 Religion,' and ' Nicholas Vro, be you a saved man ? ' 
 The ferry must ply, week-day or Sabbath : I put it 
 to you, What time have I got to be a saved man ? 
 The Lord is good, says I. Now I'll tell you a fancy 
 of mine about Him. One day He'll come down to 
 the slip calling 'Over!' and whiles I put Him across 
 — scores of times I've a-seen myself doing it, and 'tis 
 always in the cool of the evening after a spell of 
 summer weather — He'll speak up like a gentleman, 
 and ask, 'Nicholas Vro, how long have you been 
 a-working this here boat?' 'Lord,' I'll answer, 'for 
 maybe a matter of fifty year, calm or blow, week- 
 days and Sabbaths alike; and that's the reason your 
 Honour has missed me up to church, as you may
 
 52 SHINING FERRY 
 
 have noticed.' ' You must be middlin' tired of it,' 
 He'll say : and I shall answer up, ' Lord, if you say 
 so, I don't contradict 'ee ; but 'tis no bad billet for a 
 man given to chat with his naybours and talk over 
 the latest news and be sociable, and warning to leave 
 don't come from me.' ' You'd best give me over they 
 oars, all the same,' He'll say; and with that I shall 
 hand 'em over and be rowed across to a better world." 
 
 Rosewarne was not listening. " Surely, man, the 
 tide's slack enough by this time ! " he interrupted, his 
 irritation again overcoming him. " You needn't be 
 fetching across sideways, like a crab." 
 
 Nicky rested on his oars, and stared at him for a 
 moment. As if Rosewarne or any man alive could 
 teach him how to pull the ferry ! He disdained to 
 argue. 
 
 " Talking about news," said he, resuming his stroke, 
 " the Virtuous Lady arrived yesterday, and began to 
 unload this morning. You can see her top-m'sts 
 down yonder, over the town quay." 
 
 " Has Mrs. Purchase been ashore ? " Mrs. Purchase 
 was Rosewarne's only sister, who had married a 
 merchant skipper and sailed with him ever since in 
 the Virtuous Lady, in which she held a preponderance 
 of the shares. 
 
 " Came ashore this very afternoon in a bonnet 
 as large as St. Paul's, with two-thirds of a great 
 humming-bird a-top. She's balancing up the freight 
 accounts at this moment with Peter Benny. Indeed, 
 master, you'll find a plenty of folk have been in- 
 quiring for 'ee. There's the parson for one. To my 
 knowledge he've been down three times to ask when
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 53 
 
 you'd be back, and if you'd forgotten the School 
 Managers' meeting, that's fixed for to-morrow." 
 Uncle Nicky brought his boat at length to shore. 
 " And there's Aun' Butson in terror that you'll be 
 bringing in some stranger to teach the children, and 
 at her door half the day listening for your footstep, 
 to petition ee." 
 
 Somehow Rosewarne had promised himself that 
 the restlessness would leave him as soon as he reached 
 his own side of the water. He stepped ashore and 
 began to walk up the slipway at a brisk pace ; and 
 then on a sudden his brain harked backward to Uncle 
 Nicky's talk, to which a minute before he had listened 
 so inattentively. In his hurry he had let an oppor- 
 tunity pass. The old man had talked of death ; had 
 been on the point of saying something important, 
 perhaps — for all that concerned death and men's views 
 of death had become important now. He halted and 
 turned irresolutely. But the moment had gone by. 
 
 " Good-night ! " he called back, and resumed his 
 way up the village street. 
 
 Uncle Nicky, bending to replace a worn thole-pin 
 with a new one, dropped the pair with a clatter. In 
 all his experience Rosewarne had never before flung 
 him a salutation. 
 
 " And a minute ago trying to tell me how to work 
 the ferry!" the old man muttered, staring after him. 
 " The man must be ailin 
 
 As a hunted deer puts the water between him and 
 the hounds, Rosewarne had hoped to shake off his 
 worry at the ferry-crossing. But no; il dogged him 
 yet as he mounted the hill. Only, as a dreamer may
 
 54 SHINING FERRY 
 
 suffer the horror of nightmare, yet know all the while 
 that it is a dream, he felt the impatience and knew it 
 for a vain thing. All his life he had been hurrying 
 desperately, and all his life the true moments had 
 offered themselves and been left ungrasped. 
 
 Before the doorway of a cottage halfway up the 
 hill an old woman waited to intercept him — Aunt 
 Butson, the village schoolmistress. She was a spinster 
 well over sixty, and lodged with a widow woman, 
 Sarah Trevarthen, to whom the cottage belonged. 
 
 Rosewarne frowned at the sight of her. She wore 
 her best cap and shawl, and her cheeks were flushed. 
 Behind her in the doorway sat a young sailor, with a 
 cage on the ground beside him and a parrot perched 
 on his forefinger close against his cheek. He glanced 
 up with a shy, very good-natured smile, touched his 
 forelock to Rosewarne, and went on whispering to the 
 bird. 
 
 Aunt Butson stepped out into the roadway. " Good- 
 evening, Mr. Rosewarne, and glad to see you back 
 and in health ! " She dropped him a curtsey. " If 
 you've a minute to spare, sir" — 
 
 Confound the woman! — he had no minutes to 
 spare. Still frowning, he looked over her head at 
 the young sailor, Sarah Trevarthen's boy Tom, home 
 from his Baltic voyage in the Virtuous Lady. Yes, 
 it was Tom Trevarthen, now a man grown. Rose- 
 warne remembered him as a child in frocks, tumbling 
 about the roadway ; as an urchin straddling a stick ; 
 as a lad home (with this same parrot) from his first 
 voyage. Who, in a world moving at such a pace, 
 could have a minute to spare?
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 55 
 
 Aunt Butson had plunged into her petition, and 
 was voluble. It concerned the new schools, of course. 
 " She had taught reading, writing, and ciphering for 
 close on forty years. All the children in the village, 
 and nine-tenths of their parents for that matter, owed 
 their education to her. A little she could do, too, in 
 navigation — as Mr. Rosewarne well knew : enough to 
 prepare a lad for schoolmaster Penrose across the water. 
 Mr. Penrose would rather teach two boys from her 
 school than one from any other parish. Surely — 
 surely — the new Board wouldn't take the bread out of 
 an old woman's mouth and drive her to the workhouse? 
 She didn't believe, as some did, in this new-fangled 
 education, and wouldn't pretend to. Arithmetic up 
 to practice- sums and good writing and spelling — 
 anything up to five syllables — were education enough 
 to her mind for any child that knew his station in 
 life. The rest of it only bred Radicals. Still, let her 
 have a trial at least ; let them decide to-morrow to 
 give her a chance ; 'twould be no more than neigh- 
 bourly. Her ways might be old-fashioned ; but she 
 could learn. And with Mrs. Trevarthen to keep the 
 grand new schoolroom dusted — if they would give 
 her the job — and look after the fires and lighting" — 
 Rosewarne pretended to listen. The poor soul was 
 inefficient, and he knew it : beneath all her flow of 
 speech ran an undercurrent of wrath against the new 
 learning and all its works. Poverty — sheer terror of 
 a dwindling cupboard and the workhouse to follow — 
 drove her to plead with that which she hated worse 
 than the plague. He heard, and all the while his 
 mind was miles away from her petition; for some
 
 56 SHINING FERRY 
 
 chance word or words let fall by her had seemed for 
 an instant to offer him a clue. Somewhere in the past 
 these words had made part of a phrase or sentence 
 which, could he but find it again, would resolve all 
 this brooding trouble. He searched his memory — 
 in vain ; the words drew together like dancers in a 
 figure, and then, on the edge of combining, fell apart 
 and were lost. 
 
 Aloud he kept saying, "You mustn't count on it. 
 Some provision will be made for you, no doubt — in 
 these days one must march with the times." This 
 was all the comfort she could win from him, and the 
 poor old creature gazed after him forlornly when at 
 length he broke from her and went his way up the 
 hill. 
 
 He reached the entrance-gate. As it clashed behind 
 him, two children at play in the garden lifted their 
 heads. The girl whispered to the boy, and the pair 
 stole away out of sight. From the porch the small 
 greyhound caught sight of him, and, bounding to him, 
 fawned about his feet. In the counting-house he 
 found his sister closeted with Mr. Benny, and a pile 
 of bills on the table between. Mrs. Purchase rose 
 and greeted him with a little pecking kiss. She was 
 a cheerful body, by some five or six years his junior, 
 with a handsome, weather-tanned face, eyes wrinkled 
 at the corners like a seaman's, and two troubles in the 
 world — the first being that she had borne no children. 
 She shared her husband's voyaging, kept the ship's 
 accounts, was known to all on board as " The Bos'un," 
 and when battened under hatches in foul weather 
 spent her time in trimming the most wonderful
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 57 
 
 bonnets. Her coquetry stopped short at bonnets. 
 To-day indeed — the weather being warm — in lieu of 
 bodice she had slipped on a grey alpaca coat of her 
 husband's. 
 
 " Good-evening, John ! " She plunged at once into 
 a narrative of the passage home — how they had 
 picked up a slant off Heligoland and carried it with 
 them well past the Wight ; how on this side of Port- 
 land they had met with slight and baffling head- 
 winds, and for two days had done little more than 
 drift with the tides. The vessel was foul with weed, 
 and must go into dock. " You could graze a cow on 
 her for a fortnight," Mrs. Purchase declared. " Benny 
 and I have just finished checking the bills. You'd 
 like to run through them ? " 
 
 " Let be," said Rosewarne. " I'll cast an eye over 
 them to-night maybe." He stepped to the bell-rope 
 and rang for his jug of cider. 
 
 Some touch of fatigue in the movement, some 
 slight greyness in his face, caught Mrs. Purchase's 
 sisterly eye. 
 
 " It's my belief you're unwell, John." 
 "Weary, my dear Hannah — weary; that's all." 
 lie turned to the little clerk. "That will do for to- 
 night, Benny. You can leave all the papers as they 
 are, just putting these bills together in a heap. Is 
 that the correspondence? Very well ; I'll deal with it." 
 " In all my life I never heard you own to feeling 
 tired," persi ted Mrs. Purchase, as Mr. Benny closed 
 the door behind him. "You may take my word for 
 it, you're unwell ; been sleeping in some damp bed, 
 
 belike."
 
 58 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Rosewarne moved to the window and gazed out 
 across the garden. Down by the yew-hedge, where 
 a narrow path of turf wound in and out among beds 
 of tall Madonna lilies and Canterbury bells, the two 
 children were playing a solemn game of follow-my- 
 leader, the blind boy close on his sister's heels, she 
 turning again and again to watch that he came to no 
 harm. 
 
 " I wonder if that boy could be trained and made 
 fit for something?" mused Rosewarne aloud. 
 
 " Eh? Is it Clem ?" She had followed and stood 
 now by his elbow. " My dear man, he has the brains 
 of the family ! Leave Myra to teach him for a while. 
 See how she's teaching him now, although she doesn't 
 know it ; and that goes on from morning to night." 
 
 " Where's the use of it ? What's a blind man, at 
 the best ? " 
 
 "What God means him to be. If God means him 
 to do better — ay, or to see clearer — than other men, 
 'tisn't a pair of darkened eyes will prevent it." 
 
 " Woman's argument, Hannah. I take you on your 
 own ground — God could cure the child's eyes ; but 
 God doesn't, you see. On the contrary, God chose 
 to blind 'em. If I'd your religion, it would teach me 
 that Clem's misfortune was a punishment designed 
 — the sins of the fathers " — 
 
 " Ay, you're a hard man, like your father and mine. 
 Haven't I cause to know it? Hadn't she cause to 
 know it — the mother of that pretty pair ? " 
 
 " She made her bed." 
 
 " — And lies in it, poor soul. But I tell you, John, 
 there's a worse blindness than Clem's, and you and
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 59 
 
 father have suffered from it. I mean the blindness 
 of thinking you know God's business so much better 
 than God that you take it out of His hands. ' Punish- 
 ment,' you say, and ' sins of the fathers ' ? I'd have 
 you beware how you visit the past on poor Clem, or 
 happen you may find some day that out of the sins 
 of his fathers you have chosen your own to lay on 
 him." 
 
 Rosewarne turned on her with a harsh glance of 
 suspicion. No, her eyes were candid — she had 
 spoken so by chance — she did not guess. 
 
 Had he been blind all his life? It was certain that 
 now at the last his eyes saw the world differently, and 
 all things in it. Those children yonder — a hundred 
 times from this window he had watched them at play 
 without heeding. To-night they moved against the 
 dark yew-hedge like figures in a toy theatre, with- 
 drawn within a shadowy world of their own, celebrat- 
 ing a ritual in which he had no concern. The same 
 instant revealed their beauty and removed them 
 beyond his reach. Did he wish to make amends? 
 He could not tell. lie only knew it was too late. 
 The world was slipping away from him — these children 
 with it — dissolving into the shadow that climbed 
 about him. 
 
 Next morning he saddled his horse and rode. His 
 way led him past the new school-buildings ; and he 
 reined up for a minute, while his eyes dwelt on them 
 with a certain pride. As chairman of the new School 
 Board he had chosen the architect, supervised the 
 plans, and seen to it that the contractor used none
 
 60 SHINING FERRY 
 
 but the best material. The school would compare 
 with any in the Duchy, and should have a teacher 
 worthy of it — one to open the children's eyes and 
 proclaim and inculcate the doctrine of progress. 
 John Rosewarne was a patriot in his unemotional 
 way. He hated the drift of the rural population into 
 the towns, foreseeing that it sapped the strength of 
 England. He despised it too; his own experience 
 telling him that a countryman might amass wealth 
 if he had brains and used them. As for the brainless 
 herd, they should be kept on the land at all cost, to 
 grow strong, breed strong children, and, when the 
 inevitable hour came, be used as fighters to defend 
 England's wealth. 
 
 He rode on pondering, past uplands where the 
 larks sang and the mowers whetted their scythes ; 
 down between honeysuckle-hedges to a small village 
 classing itself in the head waters of a creek, asleep, 
 since all its grown inhabitants had climbed the hill to 
 toil in the hay-harvest, and silent but for a few cluck- 
 ing fowls and a murmur of voices within the infants' 
 school ; thence across a bridge, and up and along 
 a winding valley to the park gates at Damelioc. 
 Beyond these the valley narrowed to a sylvan gorge, 
 and the speckless carriage-road mounted under forest 
 trees alongside a river tumbling in miniature cascades, 
 swirling under mossy foot-bridges, here and there 
 artfully delayed to form a trout-pool, or as artfully 
 veiled by thickets of trailing wild roses and Traveller's 
 Joy. For a mile and more he rode upward under soft 
 green shadows, then lifted his eyes to wide daylight 
 as the coombe opened suddenly upon a noble home-
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 61 
 
 park, smooth as a lawn, rising in waves among the 
 folds of the hills to a high plateau whence Damelioc 
 House looked seaward — a house of wide prospect and 
 in aspect stately, classical in plan, magnificently fill- 
 ing the eye with its bold straight lines and ample 
 symmetries prolonged in terraces and rows of statues 
 interset with pointed yews. 
 
 The mistress of this palace gave him audience as 
 usual in her blue-and-white morning-room, from the 
 ceiling of which, from the centre of a painting, " The 
 Nuptials of Venus and Vulcan," her own youthful 
 face smiled down, her husband having for a whim 
 instructed the painter to depict the goddess in her 
 likeness. It smiled down now on a little shrunken 
 lady huddled deep in an easy-chair. Only her dark 
 eyes kept some of their old expressiveness, and her 
 voice an echo of its old full tone. 
 
 She asked Rosewarne a polite question or two con- 
 cerning his holiday, and they fell at once to ordinary 
 talk — of repairs, rents, game, and live-stock generally, 
 the hiring of a couple of under-keepers, the likeliest 
 tenant for a park-lodge which had fallen empty; of 
 investments too, and the money market, since Rose- 
 warne was her man of business as well as steward. 
 
 Lady Killiow trusted him absolutely ; but only 
 because she had long since proved him. He on his 
 part yielded her the deepest respect, both for her 
 sagacity in business and for the fine self-command 
 with which she, an actress of obscure birth, had put 
 the stage behind her, assumed her rank, and borne it 
 through all these years with something more than 
 adequacy. John Rosewarne, like a true Briton,
 
 62 SHINING FERRY 
 
 venerated rank, and had a Briton's instinct for the 
 behaviour proper to rank. About his mistress there 
 could be no question. She was a great lady to the 
 last drop of her blood. 
 
 His devotion to her had a touch of high chivalry. 
 It came of long service ; of pity for her early widow- 
 hood, for her childlessness, for the fate ordaining 
 that all these great possessions must be inherited 
 by strangers ; but most of all it was coloured by a 
 memory of which he had never dared, and would 
 never dare, to speak. 
 
 He had seen her on the stage. Once, in his wild 
 days, and not long before he enlisted, he had spent a 
 week in Plymouth, where she was acting, the one star 
 in a touring company. Night after night she had 
 laid a spell on him ; it was not Rosalind, not Imogen, 
 not Mrs. Haller, not Lady Teazle, that he watched 
 from the pit ; but one divine woman passing from 
 avatar to avatar. So, when the last night revealed 
 her as Lady Macbeth, as little could he condemn her 
 of guilt as understand her remorse. He saw her 
 suffering because for so splendid a creature nothing 
 less could be decreed by the jealous gods. It tortured 
 him ; and when the officer announced her death, for 
 the moment he could believe no less. "The queen, 
 my lord, is dead." " She should have died hereafter." 
 How well he remembered the words and Macbeth's 
 reply — those two strokes upon the heart, strokes of a 
 muffled bell following the outcry of women. 
 
 He was no reader of poetry. He had bought the 
 book afterwards, and flung it away ; it tangled him in 
 words, but showed him nothing of the woman he sought.
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 63 
 
 Yet to-day, as he stood before Lady Killiow dis- 
 cussing the petty question of a lease, the scene and 
 words flashed upon him together, and he grasped the 
 clue for which his brain had been searching yesterday 
 while he listened to old Mrs. Butson. It was Lady 
 Killiow who called the lease a " petty " one, and that 
 word unlocked his memory. " This petty pace — 
 
 "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
 To the last syllable of recorded time — 
 And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
 The way to dusty death." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Lady Killiow, lifting 
 her eyes to him in some astonishment — for he had 
 muttered a word or two — and meeting his fixed stare. 
 " You are not attending, I believe." 
 
 " Excuse me, my lady. It is true that I have not 
 been well of late — and that reminds me : in case of 
 illness, my son will post down from Plymouth. He 
 holds himself ready at call. If I may say it, you will 
 find him less of a fool than he looks." 
 
 Lady Killiow put up her hands with a little laugh, 
 half comfortable, half wistful. " My good Mr. Rose- 
 warne, I am a very old woman ! In a short while 
 you may do as you like; but until I am gone, please 
 understand that you cannot possibly fall ill." 
 
 He bowed with a grave smile. Of his mistress's 
 grateful affection he took away these light words 
 only : but they were enough. 
 
 II'- had thought by this visit to Damelioc to lay 
 his demon of restlessness ; had supposed this monthly
 
 64 SHINING FERRY 
 
 account of his stewardship, punctually rendered, to 
 be the business weighing on his mind. But no : as 
 he passed out through the park gates, the imp 
 perched itself again behind his crupper, urging him 
 forward, tormenting him with the same vague sense 
 of duty neglected and clamorous. 
 
 Towards evening it grew so nearly intolerable that 
 he had much ado to sit patiently and preside at the 
 School Board meeting, convened, as usual, in the great 
 parlour at Hall. All the Board was there : the Clerk, 
 Mr. Benny, and the six Managers ; two Churchmen, 
 three Dissenters, and himself — a Gallio with a casting 
 vote. He was used to reflecting cynically that these 
 opponents trusted him precisely because he cared 
 less than a tinker's curse for their creeds, and recon- 
 ciled all religious differences in a broad, impartial 
 contempt. But to-night, as Parson Endicott ap- 
 proached the crucial difficulty — the choice of a new 
 teacher — with all the wariness of a practised com- 
 mittee-man, laying his innocent parallels and bringing 
 up his guns under cover of a pleasant disavowal to 
 which the three Dissenters responded with " Hear, 
 hear ! " John Rosewarne listened not at all, nor to 
 the fence of debate that followed as Church and 
 Dissent grew heated and their friction struck out 
 the familiar sparks — "sectarian," " undoctrinal," 
 "arrogance," "broad-mindedness." At length came 
 the equally familiar pause, when the exhausted com- 
 batants turned by consent and waited on their chair- 
 man. He sat tapping his fingers upon the polished 
 mahogany, watching the reflected candle-lights along 
 its surface, wondering when these fretful voices would
 
 THE CLOSE OF A STEWARDSHIP 65 
 
 cease, these warring atoms release him to obey the 
 summons of his soul — still incomprehensible, still 
 urgent. 
 
 Their sudden hush recalled him with a start. He 
 had heard nothing of their debate. Slowly he lifted 
 his eyes and let them rest upon Mr. Benny, who sat 
 on his right, patiently waiting to take down the next 
 entry for the minutes. 
 
 " If you will trust me," he said, " I can find you a 
 teacher — a woman — whom you will all accept." 
 
 He had spoken without premeditation, and paused 
 now, doubtful of the sound of his own voice. The 
 five Managers were looking at him with respectful 
 attention. Apparently, then, he was speaking sense ; 
 and he spoke on, still wondering by what will (not 
 his own) the words came. 
 
 " If you leave her and the children alone, I think 
 her religion will not trouble you. She is accustomed 
 to boys, and teaches them to be honourable to one 
 another and gentle to their sisters." 
 
 He paused again and drummed with his fingers on 
 the table. He heard the voices break out again, and 
 gathered that the majority assented. Mechanically 
 he put the resolution, declared it carried, and closed 
 the meeting; as mechanically he shook hands with all 
 the Managers and wished them good-night. "And 
 Oil your way, Benny, you may tell the maids they 
 may go to bed. I'll blow out the candles myself." 
 
 When all had taken their leave he sat for a while, 
 still staring at the reflected lights along the board. 
 Then he arose and passed into his counting-house, 
 where an oil lamp burned upon his writing-table. 
 5
 
 66 SHINING FERRY 
 
 He took pen and paper and wrote, addressed the 
 letter, sealed it carefully, and leaned back in his 
 chair, studying the address. 
 
 " There is to-morrow," he muttered. " I can 
 reconsider it before post-time to-morrow." 
 
 But the restlessness had vanished and left in its 
 stead a deep peace. If Death waited for him in the 
 next room, he felt that he could go quietly now and 
 take it by the hand. He remembered the candles 
 still burning there, and stood up with a slight shiver 
 — a characteristic shake of his broad shoulders. As 
 he did so his eyes fell again upon the addressed letter. 
 He turned them slowly to the door — and there, 
 between him and the lights on the long table, a 
 vision moved towards him — the figure of a girl dressed 
 all in black. His hand went up to the phial in his 
 breast-pocket, but paused half-way as he gazed into 
 the face and met her eyes. . . .
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE RAFTERS 
 
 TWO children came stealing downstairs in the 
 early dawn, carrying their boots in their 
 hands, whispering, lifting their faces as if 
 listening for some sound to come from the upper 
 floors. But the whole house kept silence. 
 
 Their plan was to escape by one of the windows on 
 the ground floor. Tiptoeing along the hall to the 
 door of the great parlour, Myra noiselessly lifted the 
 latch (all the doors in the house had old-fashioned 
 latches) and peeped in. The candles on the long 
 table had burned themselves out, and the shuttered 
 room lay in darkness save for one long glint of light 
 along the mahogany table-top. It came from the 
 half-open doorway in the far corner, beyond which, 
 in the counting-house, a ghost of a flame yet trembled 
 in Rosewarnc's lamp. 
 
 Myra caught at Clem's arm and drew him back 
 into the hall. For the moment terror overcame her 
 — terror of something sinister within — of their grand- 
 father sitting there like Giant Pope in the story, 
 waiting to catch them. She hurried Clem along to 
 the kitchen pa sage, which opened out of the hall at 
 right angles to the front door and close: beside it.
 
 68 SHINING FERRY 
 
 The front door had a fanlight through which fell one 
 broken sunray, filtered to a pale green by the honey- 
 suckle of the porch ; and reaching it, she caught her 
 breath in a new alarm. The bolts were drawn. 
 
 After a furtive glance behind her, she peered more 
 closely, holding Clem fast by the sleeve. Yes, 
 certainly the bolts were drawn, and the key had 
 not been turned in the lock. Very cautiously she 
 tried the heavy latch. The door opened easily — 
 though with a creak that fetched her heart into 
 her mouth. 
 
 But there was no going back. Whatever might be 
 the explanation of the unbolted door, they were free 
 now, at large in the dewy morning with the world at 
 their feet. The brightness of it dazzled Myra. It 
 broke on Clem's ears with the dinning of innumerable 
 birds. 
 
 They took hands and hurried down the gravel path. 
 Did ever Madonna lilies, did ever clove carnations 
 smell as did these, lifting their heads from their 
 morning bath? Yet field challenged garden with 
 the fragrance of new-mown hay wafted down through 
 the elms from Parc-an-hal, that great meadow. 
 
 On the low wall by the garden-gate Myra found a 
 seat for Clem, helped him to lace his boots, and then 
 did on her own. 
 
 "What's the time?" Clem demanded. 
 
 " I don't know, but he'll be coming soon. It can't 
 be four o'clock yet, or we should hear Jim Tregay 
 knocking about the milk-pails." 
 
 The boy sat silent, nursing his knee, drinking in 
 a thousand scents and sounds. Myra watched the
 
 THE RAFTERS 69 
 
 great humble-bees staggering from flower to flower, 
 blundering among their dew-filled cups. She drew 
 down a lily-stem gently, and guided her brother's 
 hand so that it held one heady fellow imprisoned, 
 buzzing under his palm and tickling it. Clem 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 " Listen ! " 
 
 A lad came whistling up the road from the village. 
 It was Tom Trevarthen, and the sunshine glinted on 
 his silver earrings. 
 
 " Good -morning, missy! Good -morning, Master 
 Clem! I'm good as my word, you see; though be 
 sure I never reckoned to find 'ee up and out at this 
 hour." 
 
 " Myra woke me," said Clem. " I believe she keeps 
 a clock in her head." 
 
 " When I want to wake up at any particular hour, 
 1 just do it," Myra announced calmly. " Have they 
 begun the rafting ? " 
 
 " Bless your life, they've been working all night. 
 There's one raft finished, and the other ought to be 
 ready in a couple or three hours, to save the tide 
 across the bay." 
 
 " I don't hear them singing." 
 
 " Tisn't allowed. The Bo — your Aunt Hannah, I 
 mean — says she don't mind what happens to sea, but 
 she won't have her nights in harbour disturbed. Old 
 Hilly Daddo hadn't laid hands on the first balk before 
 he began to pipe, ' () for a thousand tongues to sing,' 
 starting on the very first hymn in the collection like as 
 if he meant to sing right through it. He; hadn't got 
 to 'music in the sinner's ears ' before the old woman
 
 70 SHINING FERRY 
 
 pushed her face overside by the starboard cathead, 
 nightcap and all — in that time she must ha' nipped 
 out of her berth, up the companion, and along the 
 length of the deck — and says she, ' I ben't no sinner, 
 William Daddo, but a staid woman that likes her 
 sleep and means to have it.' ' Why, missus,' says 
 Billy, 'you'll surely lev' a man ask a blessing on 
 his labours ! ' ' Ask quiet, then,' she says, ' or you'll 
 get slops.' Since then they be all as mute as 
 mice." 
 
 Myra took Clem's hand, and the three hurried 
 down the hill and through the sleeping village to the 
 ferry-slip, where Tom had a ship's boat ready. In 
 fifty strokes he brought her alongside the barque 
 where the rafters — twenty-five or thirty — were at 
 work, busy as flies. The Virtuous Lady had been 
 towed up overnight from her first anchorage to a 
 berth under Hall gardens, and a hatch opened in 
 her bows, through which the long balks of timber 
 were thrust by the stevedores at work in the hold 
 and received by a gang outside, who floated them oft 
 to be laid raftwise and lashed together with chains. 
 The sun, already working around to the south, gilded 
 the barque's top-gallant masts and yards, and flung 
 a stream of gold along the raft already finished and 
 moored in midstream. But the great hull lay as yet 
 in the cool shadow of the hillside over which the larks 
 sang. 
 
 Tom Trevarthcn found the children a corner on 
 the half-finished raft, out of the way of the workmen, 
 and a spare tarpaulin to keep their clothes dry ; and 
 there they sat happily, the boy listening and Myra
 
 THE RAFTERS 71 
 
 explaining, until Mrs. Purchase, having slept her 
 sleep and dressed herself (partly), emerged on deck 
 with a teapot to fill at the cook's galley, and, looking 
 over the bulwarks, caught sight of them. 
 
 " Hullo! You don't tell me that Susannah "—this 
 was the housekeeper at Hall — "allows you abroad 
 at this hour!" 
 
 Now the risk of Susannah's discovering their 
 escape and pursuing was the one bitter drop in 
 the cup of these truants' happiness. Susannah — 
 a middle-aged, ill-favoured spinster, daughter of a 
 yeoman-farmer, with whose second wife she could 
 not agree — scorned the sea and all sailors. Once, 
 as a girl, she had committed her ample person to 
 a sailing boat, and, thank God ! that one lesson had 
 been enough. Ships came and went under the 
 windows of Hall, but in the children's eyes they 
 and their crews belonged to an unknown world. 
 Things real to them were the farm and farm stock, 
 harvests and harvest-homes, the waggoners' teams, 
 byres, orchards, garden, and cool dairy. Ships' 
 captains arrived out of fairyland sometimes, and 
 crossed the straw-littered townplace to hold audience 
 with their grandfather ; magic odours of hemp and 
 pitch, magic chanty songs and clanking of windlasses 
 called to them up the hill ; but until this morning 
 they had never dared to obey the call. Had Clem 
 been as other boys — But, being blind, he trusted to 
 Myra, and Myra was a girl. 
 
 "Come aboard and have a drink of something 
 cordial!" continued Mrs. Purchase, holding the tea- 
 pot aloft. She walked forward and looked down
 
 72 SHINING FERRY 
 
 on the workers. " Now you may sing, boys, if 't 
 pleases 'ee." 
 
 " Thank'ee, ma'am," answered up Billy Daddo; " then 
 lev' us make a start with Wrestling Jacob, Part Two — 
 
 ' Lame as I am, I take the prey ' — 
 
 'tis a pleasant old tune and never comes amiss, but 
 for choice o' seasons give me the dew o' the mornin'." 
 He pitched the note in high falsetto, and after a 
 couple of bars five or six near comrades joined in 
 together — 
 
 " Speak to me now, for I am weak, 
 
 But confident in self-despair : 
 Speak to my heart, in blessings speak ; 
 
 Be conquer'd by my instant prayer ! 
 Speak, or thou never hence shall move, 
 
 And tell me if thy name is Love." 
 
 Billy Daddo's gang hailed from a parish, three 
 miles up the coast, noted for containing " but one 
 man that couldn't preach, and that was the parson." 
 Their fellow-labourers — the crew of the barque and 
 half- a -score longshoremen belonging to the port — 
 heard without thought of deriding. Though them- 
 selves unconverted — for life in a town, especially in a 
 seaport town, makes men curious and critical rather 
 than intense, and life in a ship ruled by Mrs. Purchase 
 did not encourage visionaries — they were accustomed 
 to the fervours of the redeemed. 
 
 " Tis Love! 'tis Love! thou diedst for me: 
 I hear thy whisper in my heart — ! " 
 
 " Brayvo ! 'tis workin' ! 'tis workin' ! Give it 
 tongue, brother Langman ! " cried Billy, as a steve-
 
 THE RAFTERS 73 
 
 dore within the hold broke forth into a stentorian 
 bass that made the ship rumble — 
 
 "The morning breaks, the shadows flee, 
 Pure universal Love thou art : 
 To me, to me thy bowels move, 
 
 Thy nature and thy name is Love ! " 
 
 Meanwhile young Tom Trevarthen had brought 
 the children under the vessel's side, and was helping 
 Clem up the ladder. Mrs. Purchase greeted them 
 with a kiss apiece, and carried them off to the cabin, 
 where they found Mr. Purchase eating bread and 
 cream. 
 
 Skipper Purchase, a smart seaman in his day and 
 a first-class navigator, had for a year or two been 
 gradually weakening in the head ; a decline which 
 his wife noted, though she kept her anxiety to herself. 
 She foresaw with a pang the end of their voyaging, 
 and watched him narrowly, having made a compact 
 with herself to interfere before he imperilled the 
 Virtuous Lady. Hitherto, however, his wits had 
 unfailingly cleared to meet an emergency. While 
 she could count upon this, she knew herself com- 
 petent to rule the ship in all ordinary weather. 
 
 " Help yourselves to cream," said Mr. Purchase, 
 after giving them good-morning. " Clever men tell 
 me there's more nourishment in a pound o' cream 
 than in an ox. Now that may seem marvellous in 
 your eyes?" lie paused with a wavering, absent- 
 minded smile. ""lis the most nourishing food in 
 the animal, vegetable, or mineral kingdoms, — unless 
 you count parsnips." 
 
 " T'cht ! " his wife put in briskly, banging down a
 
 74 SHINING FERRY 
 
 couple of clean teacups on the swing-table. " Chil- 
 dren don't want a passel o' science in their insides. 
 Milk or weak tea, my dears ? " 
 
 " I don't know," the skipper went on after another 
 long pause, bringing his uncertain eyes to bear on Clem, 
 " if you've ever taken note what astonishing things 
 folks used to eat in the Bible. There's locusts, and 
 wild honey, and unleavened bread — I made out a 
 list of oddments one time. Nebbycannezzar don't 
 count, of course ; but Ezekiel took down a whole 
 book in the shape of a roll." 
 
 Mrs. Purchase signed to Myra to pay no heed, and 
 engaged Clem in a sort of quick-firing catechism on 
 the cabin fittings, their positions and uses. The boy, 
 who had been on board but once in his life before, 
 stretched out a hand and touched each article as 
 she named it. 
 
 " The lamp, now ? " 
 
 Clem reached up at once and laid his fingers on it, 
 gently as a butterfly alights on a flower. 
 
 " How does it swing ? " 
 
 " On gimbals." 
 
 " Eh ? and what may gimbals be ? " 
 
 "There's a ring fastened here" — the boy's fingers 
 found it — " and swinging to and fro ; and inside the 
 ring is a bar, holding the lamp so that it tips to 
 and fro crossways to the ring. You weight the 
 bottom of the lamp, and then it keeps plumb upright 
 however the ship moves." 
 
 " Wunncrful memory you've got, to be sure — and 
 your gran'father tells me you can't even read ! " 
 
 " But he knows his letters," Myra announced
 
 THE RAFTERS 75 
 
 proudly ; " and when the new teacher comes he's 
 to go to school with me. Susannah says so." 
 
 " How in the world did you teach 'n his letters, 
 child ? " 
 
 " I cut them on the match-boarding inside the 
 summer - house, and he traces them out with his 
 fingers. If you go up you can see for yourself — the 
 whole lot from A to Ampassy ! He never makes 
 a mistake — do you, Clem ? And I've begun to cut 
 out ' Our Father,' but it's slow work." 
 
 " Did ever you hear tell ! " Mrs. Purchase turned 
 to her husband, who had come out of his reverie and 
 sat regarding Clem with something like lively interest. 
 He had, in fact, opened his mouth to utter a scriptural 
 quotation, but, checked on the verge of it, dropped 
 back into pensiveness. 
 
 At this point Mrs. Purchase's practised ear told 
 her that the stevedores were ceasing work, and she 
 bustled up the ladder to summon her crew to swab 
 decks. The old man, left alone with the children, 
 leaned forward, jerked a thumb after her, and said 
 impressively, " I named her myself." 
 
 " Who ? Aunt Hannah ? " stammered Myra, taken 
 aback. 
 
 " No, the ship. I named her after your aunt. 
 ' Who can find a virtuous woman ? ' says Solomon. 
 'I can,' says I; 'and, what's more, I done it: only 
 I changed the word to lady, as more becoming to one 
 of her haveage. Proverbs thirty-one, fourteen — turn 
 it up when you get home, and you'll find these 
 words: 'She is like the merchant ships, she bringeth 
 her food from ;i.i';u.' "
 
 7G SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Uncle," put in Myra breathlessly, " I want you to 
 listen for a moment ! Clem and I have run away this 
 morning, and by this time Susannah will have found 
 it out and be searching. If she sends down here, 
 couldn't you hide us — just for a little while? The 
 — the fact is, we've set our hearts on going with the 
 rafts. There's no danger in this weather, and Tom 
 Trevarthen has promised to look after us. I don't 
 dare to ask Aunt Hannah ; but if you could have a 
 boat ready just when the rafts are starting, and hide 
 us somewhere till then " — 
 
 Mr. Purchase did not seem to hear, but rose and 
 opened a small Dutch corner-cupboard, inlaid with 
 parrots and tulips, and darkly varnished. From it he 
 took a large Bible. 
 
 " I'll show you the text I was speaking of." 
 
 " But, uncle "— 
 
 " They'm washing-down already," said he, lifting 
 his head to the sound of rushing water on deck. 
 " Your aunt will be back in a moment, and 'tis time 
 for prayers." 
 
 Sure enough, at that instant the feet and ankles 
 of Mrs. Purchase appeared on the ladder. " Tide's 
 on the turn," she announced. " Keep your seats, 
 my dears ; the Lord knows there's no room to kneel, 
 and He makes allowance." She set a small packed 
 basket on the table, and turned to her husband. 
 " You'll have to pray short, too, if the children are 
 going with the rafts." 
 
 " Going?— Oh, Aunt Hannah ! " 
 
 " Why, I'd a notion you wanted to ! To be sure, 
 if I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and 'tisn' the first time;
 
 THE RAFTERS 77 
 
 but young Tom Trevarthen didn' seem to reckon so. 
 There, get your prayers over and cut along ; I'll make 
 it all right with your grandfather and Susannah." 
 
 Ah, but it was bliss, and blissful to remember ! 
 The rafts dropped down past the town quay, past 
 the old block - houses, past the ivied fort at the 
 harbour's mouth, and out to the open sea that 
 twinkled for leagues under the faint northerly breeze, 
 dazzling Myra's eyes. Tom Trevarthen grinned as 
 he tugged at an enormous sweep with two other men, 
 Methodists both, and sang with them and with Billy 
 Daddo, who steered with another sweep, rigged aft 
 upon a crutch — 
 
 " Praise ye the Lord ! 'Tis good to raise 
 Your hearts and voices in His praise " — 
 
 " Now what should put it in my noddle to take up 
 with that old hemn ? " asked Billy aloud, coming to a 
 halt at the close of the first verse and scratching his 
 head. " Tidn' one of my first fav'rites — nothing in 
 it about the Blood o' the Lamb — an' I can't call to 
 mind havin' pitched it for years. Well, never mind ! 
 The Lord hcv done it with some purpose, you may 
 be sure." 
 
 " I call it a very pretty hymn," said Myra, for he 
 seemed to be addressing her. " And isn't it reason 
 enough that you're glad to be alive?" 
 
 " But I hain't," Billy argued, shaking his head. 
 "You wouldn' understand it at your age, missy; 
 but as a saved soul I counts the days. Long after 
 I was a man grown, the very sound of ' He comes,
 
 78 SHINING FERRY 
 
 He comes ! the Judge severe/ or ' Terrible thought, 
 shall I alone,' used to put me all of a twitter. Now 
 they be but weak meat, as you might say. 'Ah, 
 lovely appearance of death' — that's more in my 
 line — 
 
 " Ah, lovely appearance of death ! 
 What sight upon earth is so fair? 
 Not all the gay pageants that breathe 
 Can with a dead body compare " — 
 
 " Don't ! " Myra put both hands up to her ears. 
 " Oh, please don't, Mr. Daddo ! And I call it wicked 
 to stand arguing when the Lord, as you say, put a 
 cheerfuller tune in your head." 
 
 " Well, here goes, then ! " Billy resumed " Praise 
 ye the Lord." At the fifth verse his face began to 
 kindle — 
 
 "What is the creature's skill or force? 
 
 The sprightly man, or warlike horse? 
 The piercing wit, the active limb, 
 
 Are all too mean delights to Him. 
 But saints are lovely in His sight, 
 
 He views His children with delight ; 
 He sees their hope, he knows their fear, 
 
 And looks and loves His image there." 
 
 " Ay, now," he broke out, " to think I didn' remember 
 that verse about children when I started to sing ! 
 And 'twas of you, missy, and the young master here 
 the dear Lord was thinkin' all the time ! " 
 
 He dropped his eyes and, leaning back against the 
 handle of the sweep, suddenly burst into prayer. 
 " Suffer little children, O dear Jesus ! suffer little 
 children. Have mercy on these two tender lambs, 
 and so bring them, blessed Lord, to Thy fold ! "
 
 THE RAFTERS 79 
 
 As his fervour took hold of him he left the sweep to 
 do its own steering, and strode up and down the raft, 
 picking his way from balk to balk, skipping aside 
 now and again as the water rose between them under 
 his weight and overflowed his shoes. To Myra, un- 
 accustomed to be prayed for aloud and by name, the 
 whole performance was absurd and embarrassing. She 
 blushed hotly under the eyes of the other men, and 
 glanced at Clem, expecting him to be no less per- 
 turbed. 
 
 But Clem did not hear. The two children had 
 taken off their boots, and he sat with the water 
 playing over his naked insteps and his eyes turned 
 southward to the horizon as if indeed he saw. With 
 his blind gaze fastened there he seemed to wait 
 patiently until Billy's prayer exhausted itself and 
 Billy returned to the steering; and then his lips 
 too began to move, and he broke into a curious 
 song. 
 
 It frightened Myra, who had never heard the like 
 of it ; for it had no words, but was just a sing-song — 
 a chant, low at first, then rising shrill and clear and 
 strong, and reaching out as though to challenge the 
 waters twinkling between raft and horizon. Through 
 it there ran a note of high courage touched with 
 tremulous yearning — yearning to escape yonder and 
 be free. 
 
 She touched his hand. So well she loved and 
 ur)> id him that even this strange outbreak she 
 
 could interpret, though it caught her at unawares. 
 For the moment h<- did not feel the touch; he was 
 far away. lie had forgotten her— alas I— with his
 
 80 SHINING FERRY 
 
 blindness. She belonged to his weakness, not to his 
 strength. For the while he dwelt in the vision of his 
 true manhood, which only his one infirmity forbade 
 his inheriting ; and she had no place in it. 
 
 He came back to reality with a pitiful break and 
 quaver of the voice, and turned his eyes helplessly 
 toward her. She answered his gaze timidly, as 
 though he could see her. She was searching his 
 eyes for tears. But there was no trace of tears in 
 them. He took the food she handed him from Aunt 
 Purchase's basket ; and, having eaten, laid his head in 
 her lap and fell asleep. 
 
 Slowly under the noonday heat and through the 
 long afternoon the two rafts moved across the bay, 
 towing each its boat in which the rafters would 
 return in the cool of the evening. 
 
 But the children did not return in them ; for on the 
 quay, where the balks were due, to be warped ashore 
 unlashed and conveyed inland to the mines, stood 
 Jim Tregay waiting with their grandfather's blood- 
 mare Actress harnessed in a spring-cart. How came 
 Jim here, at this distance from home? 
 
 " Been waiting for you these two hours ! " he called 
 to the children. " Jump into the boat there and come 
 ashore. You'm wanted at home, and to once ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 
 
 THEY landed and clambered into the spring- 
 cart. 
 " Nothing wrong at home, I hope ? " called Tom 
 Trevarthen from the quay's edge, as he pushed off to 
 scull back to the raft. 
 
 " Oh, this is Susannah's nonsense, you may be 
 sure ! " called back Myra. " I suppose she carried 
 her tales to grandfather, and he packed you off after 
 us, Jim Tregay? Well, you needn't look so glum 
 about it. Aunt Hannah gave us leave, and told Tom 
 to look after us, and we've had a heavenly day, so 
 Susannah may scold till she's tired." 
 
 " Hold the reins for a moment, Miss Myra, if you 
 please." Jim left the mare's head and walked down 
 the quay, holding up his hand to delay the young 
 sailor, who slewed his boat round, and brought her 
 alongside again. The pair were whispering together. 
 Myra heard a sharp exclamation, and in a moment 
 Tom Trevarthen was sculling away for dear life. 
 Jim ran back, jumped into the cart, and took the 
 reins. 
 
 "But what is he shouting?" asked Myra, as the 
 mare's hoofs struck and slid on the cobbles and the 
 6
 
 82 SHINING FERRY 
 
 cart seemed to spring forward beneath her. She 
 clutched her brother as they swayed past mooring- 
 posts, barrels, coils of rope, and with a wild lurch 
 around the tollman's house at the quay-head, breasted 
 the steep village street. " What's he shouting ? " she 
 demanded again. 
 
 Jim made no answer, but, letting the reins lie loose, 
 flicked Actress smartly with the whip. Even a child 
 could tell that no horse ought to be put at a hill in 
 this fashion. Faces appeared at cottage doors — faces 
 Myra had never seen in her life — gazing with a look 
 she could not understand. All the faces, too, seemed 
 to wear this look. 
 
 " What has happened ? " 
 
 At the top of the hill, on a smoother road, the mare 
 settled down to a steady gallop. Jim Tregay turned 
 himself half-about in his seat. 
 
 " From battle and murder and from sudden death — 
 good Lord, deliver us ! " 
 
 " Oh, Jim, be kind and tell us ! " 
 
 " Your grandfather, missy — the old maister ! They 
 found 'en in the counting-house this mornin' dead as a 
 nail ! " 
 
 Myra, with an arm about Clem and her disengaged 
 hand gripping the light rail of the cart, strove to fix 
 her mind, to bring her brain to work upon Jim's 
 words. But they seemed to spin past her with the 
 hedgerows and the rushing wind in her ears. A 
 terrible blow had fallen. Why could she not feel it ? 
 Why did she sit idly wondering, when even a dumb 
 creature like Actress seemed to understand and put 
 forth all her fieetness ?
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 83 
 
 " Who sent you for us ? Susannah ? " 
 
 " Susannah's no better than a daft woman. Peter 
 Benny sent me. He took down the news to Mrs. 
 Purchase, and she told him where you was gone. 
 He called out the horse-boat and packed me across 
 the ferry instanter." 
 
 Myra gazed along the ridge of the mare's back to 
 her heaving shoulders. 
 
 " Clem ! " she whispered. 
 
 " Yes," said the boy slowly, " I am trying to under- 
 stand. Why are we going so fast ? " 
 
 So he too found it difficult. In truth their grand- 
 father had stood outside their lives, a stern, towering 
 shadow from the touch of which they crept away to 
 nestle in each other's love. Because his presence 
 brooded indoors they had never felt happy of the 
 house. Because he seldom set foot in the garden 
 they had made the garden their playground, their 
 real nursery ; the garden, and on wet days the barn, 
 the hay-lofts, the apple-lofts, any Alsatia beyond the 
 rules, where they could run free and lift their voices. 
 He had never been unkind, but merely neglectful, 
 unsmiling, coldly deterrent, unapproachable. They 
 knew, of course, that he was great, that grown men 
 and women stood in awe of him. 
 
 When at length Jim Tregay reined up in the road- 
 way above the ferry, they found a vehicle at a stand 
 there, with a rough-coated grey horse in a lather of 
 sweat ; and peering over the wall from her perch in 
 the spring-cart, Myra spied Mr. Benny on the slip- 
 way below, in converse with a tall, black-coated man 
 who held by the hand a black-coated boy. As a
 
 84 SHINING FERRY 
 
 child, she naturally let her gaze rest longer on the 
 boy than on the man ; but by and by, as she led Clem 
 down the slipway, she found herself staring at the 
 two with almost equal distaste. 
 
 Little Mr. Benny ran up the slipway to meet the 
 children. His eyes were red, and it was with diffi- 
 culty that he controlled his voice. 
 
 " My dears," he began, taking Myra by the hand 
 and clasping it between his palms, " my poor dears, 
 a blow indeed ! a terrible blow ! Your uncle — dear 
 me, I believe you have never met ! Let me present 
 you to your uncle, Mr. Samuel, and your cousin, 
 Master Calvin Rosewarne. These are the children, 
 Mr. Samuel — Miss Myra and Master Clem — and, as 
 I was saying, I sent a trap to fetch them home with 
 all speed." 
 
 The man in black shook hands with the children 
 gloomily. Myra noted that his whiskers were black 
 and straggling, and that, though his upper lip was 
 long, it did not hide his prominent yellow teeth. As 
 for the boy, he shook hands as if under protest, and 
 fell at once to staring hard at Clem. He had a pasty- 
 white face, which looked the unhealthier for being 
 surmounted by a natty velveteen cap with a patent- 
 leather up-and-down peak, and he wore a black 
 overcoat, like a minister's, knickerbockers, grey 
 woollen stockings, and spring-side boots, the tags of 
 which he had neglected to turn in. 
 
 " You sent for them ? " asked Mr. Samuel sourly as 
 he shook hands, turning a fishy eye upon Mr. Benny. 
 " Why did you send for them ? " 
 
 " Eh ? " stammered Mr. Benny. " Their poor grand-
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 85 
 
 father, Mr. Samuel ! I could not have forgiven myself. 
 It was, after telegraphing to you, my first thought." 
 
 " I can't see with what object you sent for them," 
 persisted Mr. Samuel, and pulled at his ragged 
 whiskers. " Were they — er — away on a visit ? stay- 
 ing with friends? If so, I should have thought they 
 were much better left till after the funeral." 
 
 He shifted his gaze from Mr. Benny and fixed it 
 on Myra, who flushed hotly. What right had this 
 Mr. Samuel to be interfering and taking charge? 
 
 " We were not staying with friends," she answered, 
 "or paying any visit. Clem and I have never slept 
 away from home in our lives. We have been across 
 the bay with the rafts — that's all ; and Aunt Hannah 
 gave us leave." 
 
 He ignored her display of temper. " You've been 
 let run wild, you two, I daresay," he replied, in a 
 tone almost rallying. " I guess you have had matters 
 pretty much your own way." 
 
 Poor Myra ! This was the first whole holiday she 
 and Clem had ever taken. But how could she tell 
 him ? She gulped down her tears — she was glad he 
 had turned away without perceiving them — clutched 
 Clem's hand in silence, and followed down to the boat, 
 which Uncle Vro was bringing alongside. 
 
 As the party settled themselves in the sternshcets 
 Master Calvin fixed his pale, gooseberry-coloured 
 eyes on hers. 
 
 "You needn't show temper," he said slowly, with 
 the air of a young ruminant animal. 
 
 "I'm not showing temper I" Myra retorted in a 
 tone which certainly belied her.
 
 86 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Yes, you are ; and you've told a fib, which only 
 makes things worse." He smiled complacently at 
 having beaten her in argument, and Myra thought 
 she had never met such an insufferable boy in her 
 life. 
 
 He transferred his unblinking stare to Clem, and 
 for half a minute took stock of him silently. " Is he 
 blind," he asked aloud, "or only pretending?" 
 
 Myra's face flamed now. A little more, and she 
 had boxed his ears ; but she checked herself and, 
 caressing the back of Clem's hand, answered with 
 grave irony, " He tvas blind, up to a minute ago ; 
 but now, since seeing you, he prefers to be pretend- 
 ing. 
 
 Master Calvin considered this for almost a minute. 
 " That's rude," he announced at length decisively. 
 
 But meanwhile other passengers in the boat had 
 found time to get themselves at loggerheads. 
 
 " Your servant, Master Samuel ! " began old Nicky 
 affably, as he fell to his oars. " I hope I see 'ee well, 
 though 'tis a sad wind that blows 'ee here. Ay, 
 there's a prophet gone this day from Israel ! " 
 
 Mr. Samuel frowned. " Good-evening," he answered 
 coldly, and added, with an effort to be polite, " I seem 
 to know your face, too." 
 
 " He-he ! " Uncle Nicky leaned on his oars with a 
 senile chuckle. " Know my face, dost-a ? Ought to, 
 be sure, for I be the same Nicholas Vro that ferried 
 'ee back and forth in the old days, afore your father's 
 stomach soured against 'ee. Dostn't-a mind that 
 evening I put 'ee across with your trunks for the 
 last time ? ' Never take on, Master Sam/ said I — for
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 87 
 
 all the parish knew and talked of your differences — 
 ' give the old man time, and you'll be coming home 
 for the Christmas holidays as welcome as flowers in 
 May.' ' Not me,' says you ; ' my father's is a house o' 
 wrath, and there's no place for me.' A mort o' tide- 
 water have runned up an' down since you spoke they 
 words ; but here be I, Nicholas Vro, takin' 'ee back 
 home as I promised. Many times I've a-pictered 'ee, 
 hearing you was grown prosperous and a married 
 man and had took up with religion. I won't say that 
 years have bettered your appearance ; 'tisn't their 
 way. But I'd ha' picked out your face in a crowd 
 — or your cheeld's, for that matter. He features you 
 wonderful." 
 
 " I remember you now," said Mr. Sam. " You 
 haven't grown any less talkative in all these years." 
 He turned to Mr. Benny. " Your telegram was sent 
 off at nine-forty-five. Was that as early as pos- 
 sible?" 
 
 "I can say 'yes' to that, Mr. Samuel. Of course 
 I had to begin by quieting the servants — they were 
 scared out of their wits, and it took me some time to 
 coax them out of their alarm. Then, taking boat, 
 I rowed down to the post-office, stopping only at the 
 barque yonder, to break the news to Mrs. Purchase. 
 She put on her bonnet at once and was rowed ashore. 
 Twas from her, too, I learned the whereabouts of 
 Miss Myra and Master Clem ; for up at the house 
 they could not be found, and this had thrown Miss 
 Susannah into worse hysterics — she could only 
 imagine some new disaster. At first I was minded 
 to send a boat after them, but by this time the rafts
 
 88 SHINING FERRY 
 
 were a good two miles beyond the harbour, and Mrs. 
 Purchase said, ' No, they can do no good, poor dears ; 
 let them have their few hours' pleasure.' From the 
 barque I pulled straight to the post-office, and sent 
 off the telegram, and — dear me, yes — at the same 
 time I posted a letter. I had found it, ready stamped, 
 lying on the floor by my poor master's feet. It must 
 have dropped from his hand ; no doubt he had just 
 finished writing it when the end came." 
 
 " But why such a hurry to post it ? " 
 
 " It was marked ' Private and Immediate." 1 
 
 " For whom ? " 
 
 Mr. Benny hesitated. " You will excuse me, Mr. 
 Samuel " — 
 
 " Confidential ? " 
 
 " As a matter of fact, sir, when Mr. Rosewarne 
 marked his letters so I made it a rule never to read 
 the address. But this one — coming upon it as I did 
 —I couldn't help"— 
 
 "You prefer to keep the address to yourself?" 
 
 " With your leave, sir." 
 
 Mr. Samuel eyed him sharply. " Quite right ! " he 
 said curtly, with a glance at Uncle Vro ; but the old 
 man was not listening. 
 
 " Lord ! and I mind his second marriage ! " he 
 muttered. " A proper lady she was, from up Tamar- 
 way. He brought her home across water, and that's 
 unlucky, they say ; but he never minded luck. Firm 
 as a nail he ever was, and put me in mind of the nail 
 in Isaiah : ' As a nail in a sure place I will fasten 
 him, and they shall hang upon him all the glory of 
 his father's house, the offspring and the issue, all
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 89 
 
 vessels of small quantity, from the vessels of cups 
 even to all the vessels of flagons.' But the offspring 
 and the issue, my dears," he went on, addressing 
 Clem and Myra, " was but your poor mother. Well- 
 a-well, weak or strong, we go in our time ! " 
 
 As they landed and climbed the hill, Mr. Sam 
 spoke with Peter Benny aside. 
 
 " They may ask about that letter at the inquest. 
 You have thought of the inquest, of course ? " 
 
 " If they do, I must answer them." 
 
 " So far as you know, there was nothing in it to 
 cause strong emotion — nothing to account — ? " 
 
 " Dear me, no," answered Mr. Benny, staring at 
 him in mild astonishment ; " so far as I know, nothing 
 whatever." 
 
 After packing Susannah off to her room with a 
 Bible and a smelling-bottle, Mrs. Purchase had set 
 herself to reduce the household to order. "'Tisn't in 
 nature to think of death," confessed Martha the dairy- 
 girl, "when you'm worrited from pillar to post by a 
 woman in creaky boots." 
 
 Above and beside her creaky boots Aunt Hannah 
 had a cheerful, incurable habit of slamming every 
 door she passed through. It came, she would explain, 
 of living on shipboard where cabin was divided from 
 cabin cither by a simple curtain or by sliding panels. 
 Be tin' as it may, she kept the house of mourning re- 
 echoing that day "like a labouring ship with a cargo 
 of tinware," to quote Martha again, whose- speech 
 derived many forcible idioms from her father, the 
 mate of a coaster.
 
 90 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Nevertheless — and although it appeared to induce a 
 steady breeze through the house, rising to a moderate 
 gale when meals were toward — Aunt Hannah's pres- 
 ence acted like a tonic on all. She presented to 
 Mr. Sam a weather-ruddied cheek, receiving his kiss 
 on what, in so round a face as hers, might pass for the 
 point of the jaw. In saluting Master Calvin she had 
 perforce to take the offensive, and did so with equal 
 aplomb. After a rapid survey of some three seconds 
 she picked off his velveteen cap and kissed him accu- 
 rately in the centre of the forehead. 
 
 " I meant to do it on the top of his head," she 
 informed Myra later, " but the ghastly child was 
 smothered in bear's-grease. Lord knows that, as 
 'twas, I very nearly slipped in my thumb and kissed 
 that, as I've heard tell that folks do in the witness- 
 box." 
 
 Myra did not understand the allusion ; but from 
 the first she divined that her aunt misliked Master 
 Calvin and found that mislike consolatory. 
 
 " As for these two," the good lady announced, 
 indicating brother and sister, " I allow to myself 
 they'll be best out of the way till the funeral. I've 
 been through the clothes-press, and put up their 
 night-clothes and a few odd items in a hand-bag. 
 'Siah will be here at eight-thirty sharp, to take 'em 
 aboard with him. For my part, I reckon to sleep 
 here to-night and look after things till that fool 
 Susannah comes to her senses. And as for you, 
 Peter Benny, you'll stay supper, I hope, for there's 
 supper ready and waiting to be dished — a roast leg 
 of lamb, with green peas. It puts me in mind of
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 91 
 
 Easter Day," she added inconsequently. " You may 
 remember, Sam, that your poor father always stickled 
 for a roast leg of lamb at Easter. He was a good 
 Christian to that extent, I thank the Lord ! " 
 
 " And I thank you, ma'am," protested Mr. Benny, 
 " but I couldn't touch a morsel — indeed I couldn't, 
 though you offer it so kindly." 
 
 " To my knowledge, you've not eaten enough to-day 
 to keep a mouse alive. Well, if you won't, you won't ; 
 but I've been through the garden, and there's a dish 
 of strawberries to take home to your wife." 
 
 Mrs. Purchase could not know — good soul — that 
 in removing the two children to shipboard, to spare 
 them the ugly preparations for the funeral, she was 
 connecting their grandfather's death in their minds 
 for ever with the most delightful holiday in life. Yet 
 so it was. Punctually at half-past eight Mr. Purchase 
 appeared and escorted them on board the Virtuous 
 Lady ; and so, out-tired with their long day, drugged 
 and drowsed by strong salt air and sunshine and the 
 swift homeward drive, they came at nightfall, and as 
 knights and princesses come in fairy talcs, to the 
 palace of enchantment. As they drew close, its walls 
 towered up terribly and overhung them, lightlcss, for- 
 bidding; but far aloft the riding-lamp flamed like a 
 star, and Myra clapped her hands as she reached the 
 deck and peered down into a marvellous doll's-house 
 fitted with couches, muslin blinds, and brass-locked 
 Clipboards that twinkled in the lamplight. There 
 was a stateroom, too, with a half-drawn red curtain 
 in place of a door, and beyond the curtain a glimpse
 
 92 SHINING FERRY 
 
 of two beds, one above the other, with white sheets 
 turned back and ready for the sleepers — at once like 
 and deliciously unlike the beds at home. The chil- 
 dren, having unpacked their bag and undressed, knelt 
 down side by side as usual in their white nightrails. 
 But Myra could not pray, although she repeated the 
 words with Clem. Her eyes wandered among 
 marvels. The lower bed (assigned to Clem by 
 reason of his blindness) was not only a bed but a 
 chest of drawers. 
 
 " Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
 Look upon a little child ; 
 Pity my simplicity" — 
 
 Her fingers felt and tried the brass handles. Yes, a 
 real chest of drawers ! And the washstand folded 
 up in a box, and in place of a chair was a rack with 
 netting in which to lay their garments for the night ! 
 " God bless dear Clem, and grandfather " — What was 
 she saying? Their grandfather was dead, and pray- 
 ing for dead people was wicked. Susannah had once 
 caught her praying for her mother, and had told her 
 that it was wicked, with a decisiveness that closed all 
 argument. None the less she had prayed for her 
 mother since then — once or twice, perhaps half a 
 dozen times — though slily and in a terror of being 
 punished for it and sent to hell. " And Susannah, 
 and Martha, and Elizabeth Jane " — this was the 
 housemaid — " and Peter Benny, and Jim Tregay, and 
 all kind friends and relations" — including Uncle 
 Sam and that odious boy of his ? Well, they might 
 go down in the list ; but she wouldn't pretend to like 
 them.
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 93 
 
 " Ready, my dears ? " asked Uncle Purchase from 
 outside. " Sing out when you're in bed, and I'll come 
 and dowse the lights." 
 
 He did so, and stood for a moment hesitating, 
 scarcely visible in the faint radiance cast through the 
 doorway by the lamp in his own cabin. Maybe the 
 proper thing would be to give them a kiss apiece? 
 He could not be sure, being a childless man. He 
 ended by saying good-night so gruffly that Myra 
 fancied he must be in a bad temper. 
 
 " Clem ! " she whispered, after lying still for a while, 
 staring into darkness. " Clem ! " 
 
 But Clem was already sound asleep. 
 
 She sighed and turned on her pillow. She had 
 wanted to discuss with him a thought that vexed 
 her. Did folks love one another when they grew up ? 
 And, if so, how did they manage it, seeing that so 
 few grown-ups had anything lovable about them ? 
 Clem and she, of course, would go on loving each 
 other always ; but that was different. When one 
 grown-up person died, were the others really sorry ? 
 No one seemed sorry for her grandfather — no one 
 — except, perhaps, Peter Benny. . . . 
 
 For two days the children lived an enchanted life, 
 interrupted only by a visit to Miss de Gruchy, the 
 dressmaker across the water, and by a miserable 
 two hours in which they were supposed to entertain 
 their Cousin Calvin, who had been sent to play 
 with them. The boy — he was about a year older 
 than Myra — greeted them with an air of high im- 
 portance.
 
 94 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " I've seen the corp ! " he announced in an ogreish 
 whisper. 
 
 Myra had the sense to guess that if she gave any 
 sign of horror he would only show off the more and 
 tease her. She met him, therefore, on his own 
 ground. 
 
 " Well, you needn't think we want to, because we 
 don't ! " 
 
 " Oh, they'll show it to you before they screw it 
 down. But I saw it first ! " 
 
 For the next forty-eight hours this awful possibility 
 darkened her delight. For it was a possibility. 
 Grown people did such monstrous unaccountable 
 things, there was no saying what they might not be 
 up to next. And here, for once, was an ordeal Clem 
 could not share with her. He was blind. Alone, if 
 it must be, she must endure it. 
 
 She did not feel safe until the coffin had been 
 actually packed in the hearse and the long procession 
 started. To her dismay, they had parted her from 
 Clem. He rode in the first coach beside Aunt 
 Hannah and vis-a-vis with her Uncle Samuel and 
 Cousin Calvin ; she in the second with Mr. Purchase, 
 Peter Benny, and Mr. Tulse the lawyer, a large- 
 headed, pallid man with a strong, clean-shaven face 
 and an air of having attended so many funerals that 
 he paid this one no particular attention. His care- 
 less gentility obviously impressed Mr. Purchase, who 
 mopped his forehead at half-minute intervals and as 
 frequently remarked that the day was hot even for 
 the time of year. Mr. Benny was solicitous to know 
 if Mr. Tulse preferred the window up or down. Mr.
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 95 
 
 Tulse preferred it down, and took snuff in such pro- 
 fusion that by and by Myra could not distinguish the 
 floating particles from the dust which entered from 
 the roadway, stirred up by the feet of the crowd 
 backing to let the carriages pass. Myra had never 
 seen, never dreamed of, such a crowd. It lined both 
 sides of the road almost to the church gate — and from 
 Hall to the church was a good mile and a half; lines 
 of freemasons with their aprons, lines of foresters in 
 green sashes, lines of coastguards, of fishermen in 
 blue jerseys crossed with the black and white mourn- 
 ing ribbons of the local Benevolent Club ; here and 
 there groups of staring children, some holding tightly 
 by their mothers' hands ; here and there a belated 
 gig, quartering to give way or falling back to take up 
 its place in the rear of the line. The sun beat down 
 on the roof of the coach, drawing a powerful odour of 
 camphor from its cushions. For years after the scent 
 of camphor recalled all the moving pageant and the 
 figure of Mr. Tulse seated in face of her and ab- 
 stractedly taking snuff. But at the time, and until 
 they drew up at the churchyard gate, she was wonder- 
 ing why the ships in the harbour had dressed them- 
 selves in gay bunting. The flags were all half-masted, 
 of course ; but she had not observed this, nor, if she 
 had, would she have known the meaning of it. 
 
 In the great family pew she found herself by Clem's 
 side, listening to the lesson, of which a few words and 
 sentences somehow remained in her memory; and 
 again, as they trooped out, Clem's hand was in hers. 
 But to the ceremony she paid little attention. The 
 grave had been dug hard by the south-east corner
 
 96 SHINING FERRY 
 
 of the churchyard, close by a hedge of thorn, on the 
 farther side of which the ground fell steeply to a 
 narrow coombe. The bright sun, sinking behind the 
 battlements of the church tower, flung their shadow 
 so that a part cut across the parson's dazzling sur- 
 plice, while a part fell and continued the pattern on 
 the hillside across the valley. And while the parson 
 recited, high over the tower a lark sang. 
 
 Someone asked her if she wished to look down on 
 the coffin in its bed. She shrank away, fearing for 
 the moment that the trick of which she had stood in 
 dread for two days was to be played on her now at 
 the last. 
 
 But the mysterious doings of her elders were not 
 yet at an end, for no sooner had they reached home 
 again than she and Clem were hustled into the 
 parlour, to find Mr. Tulse seated at the head of the 
 long table with a paper in his hand, and Mr. Samuel 
 in a chair by the empty fireplace with Cousin Calvin 
 beside him. Aunt Hannah disposed herself between 
 the two children with her back to a window, and 
 Uncle Purchase, having closed the door with extra- 
 ordinary caution, dropped upon the edge of a chair 
 and sat as if ready to jump up at call and expel any 
 intruder. 
 
 Mr. Tulse glanced around with that quiet, well-bred 
 air of his which seemed to take everything for granted. 
 Having satisfied himself that all were assembled, he 
 cleared his throat and began to read. His manner 
 and intonation suggested family prayers ; and Myra, 
 not doubting that this must be some kind of post- 
 script to the burial service for the private consolation
 
 THE HEIRS OF HALL 97 
 
 of the family, let her mind wander. The word 
 " testament " in the first sentence seemed to make 
 this certain, and the sentence or two that followed 
 had a polysyllabic vagueness which by habit she con- 
 nected with the offices of religion. The strained look 
 on Aunt Hannah's face drew her attention away from 
 Mr. Tulse and his recital. Her ear had been caught, 
 too, by a low whining sound in the next room. By 
 and by she heard him speak her own name — hers 
 and Clem's together — and glanced around nervously. 
 She had a particular dislike of being prayed for by 
 name. It made her blush and gave her a curious 
 sinking sensation in the pit of the stomach. Her 
 eyes, as it happened, came to rest on her Uncle 
 Samuel's, who withdrew his gaze at once and stared 
 into the fireplace. 
 
 A moment later Mr. Tulse brought his reading to 
 an end. There was a pause, broken by someone's 
 pushing back a chair. She gazed around inquiringly, 
 thinking that this perhaps might be a signal for all 
 to kneel. 
 
 Her aunt had risen, and stood for a moment with 
 twitching face, challenging a look from Mr. Samuel, 
 who continued to stare at the shavings in the fire- 
 place. 
 
 Whatever Mrs. Purchase had on her lips to say to 
 him, she controlled herself. But she turned upon 
 Myra and Clem, and her eyes filled. 
 
 "My poof dears!" she said, stretching out both 
 hands. " My poor, poor dears ! " 
 
 Myra thought it passing strange that, if she and 
 Clem were to be pitied for losing their grandfather, 
 7
 
 98 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Aunt Hannah should have waited till now. She paid, 
 however, little heed to this, but ran past her aunt's 
 outstretched arms to the door of the counting-house. 
 Within, on the rug beside the empty chair, weak with 
 voluntary starvation, lay stretched the little grey- 
 hound, and whined for her master.
 
 BOOK II 

 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HESTER ARRIVES 
 
 HESTER MARVIN stood on the windy plat- 
 form gazing after the train. Her limbs were 
 cramped and stiff after the long night journey; 
 the grey morning hour discouraged her; and the land- 
 scape — a stretch of grey-green marsh with a horizon- 
 line of slate-roofed cottages terminated by a single 
 factory chimney — was not one to raise the spirits. 
 Even the breeze blowing across the marsh had an 
 unfamiliar edge. She felt it, and shivered. 
 
 She had been the only passenger to alight here 
 from the train, which had brought her almost all the 
 way from the Midlands ; and as it steamed off, its 
 smoke blown level along the carriage roofs, her gaze 
 foljowed it wistfully, almost forlornly, with a sense 
 of lost companionship. She knew this to be absurd, 
 and yet she felt it. 
 
 Between the chimney and this ridge: the train 
 
 passed out of sight; but still her gaze followed the 
 
 long curve of the metals across the marsh. They 
 
 stretched away, and with them the count!}' seemed 
 
 to expand and flatten itself, yielding to the sky an 
 
 altogether disproportionate share of the prospect — 
 
 101
 
 102 SHINING FERRY 
 
 at any rate in eyes accustomed to the close elms and 
 crooked hedgerows of Warwickshire. 
 
 She withdrew her gaze at last, and glancing up the 
 long platform spied her solitary trunk, as absurdly 
 forlorn as herself. A tall man — the stationmaster — 
 bent over it, examining the label, and she walked 
 towards him, glancing up as she passed the station 
 clock. 
 
 " No use your looking at him" said the station- 
 master, straightening himself up in time to observe 
 the glance. " He never kept time yet, and don't 
 mean to begin. Breaks my heart, he do." 
 
 " How far is it from here to Troy ? " 
 
 " Three miles and a half, we reckon it ; but you 
 may call it four, counting the hills." 
 
 "Oh, there are hills, are there?" said Hester, and 
 looking around she blushed ; for indeed the country 
 was hilly on three sides of her and flat only in the 
 direction whither she had been staring after the train. 
 
 The stationmaster did not observe her confusion. 
 " Were you expecting anyone to meet you, miss ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, from Troy. A Mr. Benny — Mr. Peter 
 Benny." She felt for the letter in her pocket. 
 
 The stationmaster's smile broadened. " Peter 
 Benny? To be sure — a punctual man, too, but 
 with a terrible long family. And when a man has 
 a long family, and leaves these little things to 'em — 
 But someone will be here, miss, sooner or later. And 
 this will be your luggage ? " 
 
 "Three miles and a half, you say? — or four at the 
 most?" Hester stood considering, while her eyes
 
 HESTER ARRIVES 103 
 
 wandered across to a siding beyond the up-platform, 
 where three men stood in talk before a goods van. 
 Two of them were porters ; the third — a young fellow 
 in blue jersey, blue cloth trousers, and a peaked cap — 
 was apparently persuading them to open the van, 
 which they no sooner did than he leapt inside. 
 Hester heard him calling from within the van and 
 the two porters laughing. " Four miles ? " She 
 turned to the stationmaster again. " I can walk 
 that easily. You have a cloak-room, I suppose, 
 where I can leave my trunk ? " 
 
 " I'll take it home with me, miss, for safety: that 
 is, if you're really bent on walking." He jerked his 
 thumb toward a cottage on the slope behind. " No 
 favour at all. I'm just going back to breakfast, and 
 it won't take me a minute to fetch out a barrow and 
 run it home. Whoever comes for your luggage will 
 know where to call. You'd best give me your hand- 
 bag too." 
 
 " Thank you, but I can carry that easily." 
 
 "The Bennys always turn up sooner or later," he 
 went on musingly. " If they miss one train, they 
 catch the next. Really, miss, there's no occasion to 
 walk. But if you must, and I may make so bold, 
 why not step over to my house and have a cup 
 <>f tea before starting? The kettle's on the boil, 
 and my wife would make you welcome. We've a 
 refreshment-room here in the station," he added 
 apologetically, "but it don't open till the ninc- 
 twenty-sevcn." 
 
 Ilestcr thanked him again, but would not accept 
 the invitation. He fetched the barrow for her trunk,
 
 104 SHINING FERRY 
 
 and walked some little distance with her, wheeling 
 it. Where their ways parted he gave her the 
 minutest directions, and stood in the middle of the 
 roadway to watch her safely past her first turning. 
 
 The aspect of the land was strange to her yet, 
 but the stationmaster's kindness had made it less 
 unhomely. The road ran under the base of a hill 
 to her left, between it and the marsh. It rose a little 
 before reaching the line of slate-roofed cottages ; and 
 as she mounted this rise the wind met her more 
 strongly, and with more of that tonic sharpness she 
 had shrunk from a while ago. It was shrewd, yet she 
 felt that it was also wholesome. Above the cottage 
 roofs she now perceived many masts of vessels 
 clustered near the base of the tall chimney. She 
 bent her head against the breeze. When she raised 
 it again after a short stiff climb, she looked — 
 and for the first time in her life — upon the open 
 sea. 
 
 It stretched — another straight line — beyond the 
 cottage roofs, in colour a pale, unvaried grey-blue ; 
 and her first sensation was wonder at its bare 
 simplicity. She rested her bag upon the low hedge, 
 and stood beside it at gaze, her body bent forward to 
 meet the wind. 
 
 For five minutes and more she stood there, so 
 completely absorbed that the sound of footsteps on 
 the road drew near and passed her unheard. A few 
 paces beyond they came to a halt. 
 
 " Begging your pardon, miss, but that bag is heavy 
 for you," said a voice. 
 
 She turned with a start, and, as she did so, was
 
 HESTER ARRIVES 105 
 
 aware of a scent about her, not strong, but deliriously 
 clean and fragrant. It came from a tuft of wild 
 thyme on which her palm had been pressing while 
 she leaned. 
 
 " Thank you, it is not heavy," she answered, in some 
 confusion. " I — I just rested it here while I looked 
 out to sea." 
 
 She knew him at once for the blue-jerseyed young 
 man she had seen in talk with the porters ; and 
 apparently he had prevailed, for he stooped under 
 the weight of a great burden, in which Hester 
 recognised a blackboard, an easel, a coloured globe, 
 and sundry articles of school furniture very cleverly 
 lashed together and slung across his shoulder by a 
 stout cord. He was smiling, and she smiled too, 
 moved perhaps by the sight of these familiar objects 
 in a strange land. 
 
 " If you'm bound for Troy, you may so well let 
 me carry it, miss. There's a terrible steep hill to go 
 up, and a pound or two's weight won't make no 
 difference to what I got here." 
 
 She had taken up her bag resolutely and was 
 moving on. The young man — it was most awkward 
 — also moved on, and in step with her. She com- 
 pressed her lip, wondering how to hint that she did 
 not desire his company. A glance told her that he 
 was entirely without guile, that he had made his offer 
 in mere good-nature. How might she dismiss him 
 and yet avoid hurting his feelings ? 
 
 " They argued me down at the station," he went 
 on. " Would have it the traps couldn' possibly be 
 in the van. But I wasn't going to have my walk for
 
 100 SHINING FERRY 
 
 nothing if I could help it. ' Give me leave to look,' 
 said I ; and I was right, you see ! " 
 
 He nodded his head as triumphantly as his burden 
 allowed. It weighed him down, and the stoop gave 
 his eyes, when he smiled, an innocent roguish slant. 
 Hester noted that he wore rings in his brown ears, 
 and somehow these ornaments made him appear the 
 more boyish. 
 
 " But what are you doing with a blackboard and 
 easel ? " she asked. 
 
 "They're for old Mother Butson. She lives with 
 my mother and keeps school. Tidy little outlay for 
 her, all this parcel ! but she must move with the 
 times, poor soul." 
 
 " Then hers is not a Board School ? — since she is 
 buying these things for herself." 
 
 " Board School ? Not a bit of it. You're right 
 there, miss : we're the Opposition." He laughed, 
 showing two rows of white regular teeth. 
 
 " Are you a teacher too ? " 
 
 She had no sooner asked the question than she 
 knew it to be ridiculous. A teacher, in blue jersey 
 and earrings ! He laughed, more merrily than 
 ever. 
 
 " Me, miss ? My name's Trevarthen — Tom Tre- 
 varthen : and I'm a seaman ; ordinary till last voyage, 
 but now A.B." He said this with pride : of what it 
 meant she had not the ghost of a notion. " A man 
 don't need scholarship in my way o' life ; but, being 
 on shore for a spell, you see, miss, I'm helping the 
 old gal to fight the School Board. 'Tis hard on 
 her, too."
 
 HESTER ARRIVES 107 
 
 " What is hard ? " Hester asked, her professional 
 interest aroused. 
 
 " Why, to have the bread taken out of her mouth 
 at her time of life. She sent in an application, but 
 the Board wouldn't look at it. Old Rosewarne, they 
 say, had another teacher in his eye, and got her 
 appointed — some up-country body. Ne'er a man 
 on the Board had the pluck to say ' Bo ' when he 
 opened his mouth." 
 
 " Rosewarne ? " Hester came to a halt. 
 
 "That bag is too heavy for you, miss. Hand it 
 over — do'ee now ! " 
 
 "Are you talking of Mr. John Rosewarne?" 
 
 " Ay, Rosewarne of Hall — he did it. If you was a 
 friend of his, miss, I beg your pardon ; but a raspin' 
 old tyrant he was. Sing small, you might be let off 
 and call yourself lucky ; stand up to 'en, and he'd have 
 you down and your face in the dust if it cost a fortune." 
 
 "Wait a moment, please!" Hester commanded, 
 halting for breath. They had reached a steep hill, 
 and the tall hedgerows shut out the sea ; but its far 
 roar sounded in her ears. She nodded toward the 
 bundle on his shoulders. " Are those things meant 
 to fight the new schoolmistress ? " 
 
 ' That's of it. The old woman has pluck enough 
 for a hunderd. But, as I tell her, she may get the 
 billet now, after all, since the old fellow's gone, and 
 Mr. Sam — they do say — favour, the Dissenters." 
 
 " I don't understand. ' Gone ' ? Who is gone ? " 
 
 " Why, i -Id Rosewarne. Who else ? " 
 
 ' Vou are not telling me that Mr. Rosewarne is 
 dead ? "
 
 108 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Beggin' your pardon, miss — but he's dead, and 
 buried last Saturday. There ! I han't upset you, 
 have I ? I took it for certain that everyone knew. 
 And you seeming an acquaintance of his, and being, 
 so to speak, in black " — 
 
 " But I heard from him only last Thursday — less 
 than a week ago ! " Hester's hand went to her pocket. 
 To be sure she possessed, with Rosewarne's letter, a 
 second from a Mr. Peter Benny, acknowledging her 
 acceptance of the post, and promising that she should 
 be met on her arrival, on the day and hour sug- 
 gested by her. But Mr. Benny's letter had been 
 cautiously worded, and said nothing of his master's 
 death. 
 
 The young sailor had come to a halt with her, 
 evidently puzzled, and for the fourth time at least was 
 holding out a hand to relieve her of her bag. 
 
 " No ! " she said. " You must walk on, please ; I 
 am the new schoolmistress." 
 
 It took him aback, but not in the way she had 
 expected. His face became grave at once, but still 
 wore its puzzled look, into which by degrees there 
 crept another look of pity. 
 
 " You can't know what you'm doing then, miss ; 
 I'm sure of that. They haven't told you. She's a 
 very old woman, and 'tis all the bread she has." 
 
 He stared at her, seeking reassurance. 
 
 " You are certainly right, so far : I have tumbled, it 
 seems, into mysteries. But for aught I know, I am 
 the new schoolmistress, and we are enemies, it seems. 
 Now will you walk ahead, or shall I ? " 
 
 Still he paused, considering her face.
 
 HESTER ARRIVES 109 
 
 " But if you knew what a shame it is ! " he stam- 
 mered. " And you look good, too ! " 
 
 With a movement of the hand she begged him to 
 leave her and walk ahead. But as she did so she 
 caught sound of hoofs and wheels on the road above. 
 They drew apart to let the vehicle pass, she to one 
 side of the road, the young sailor to the other. A 
 light spring-cart came lurching round the corner ; and 
 its driver, glancing from one to the other, drew rein 
 sharply, dragging the rough-coated cob back with a 
 slither on the splash-board, and bringing him to a 
 stand between them.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MR. SAMUEL'S TOLICY 
 
 HESTER'S letter accepting the teachership had 
 put Mr. Sam in something of a quandary. It 
 came addressed, of course, to his father, and 
 as his father's heir and executor he had opened it. 
 
 " ' Hester Marvin ' ? " He read the signature and 
 pondered, pulling his ragged whisker. " So that was 
 the name on the letter you posted ? " (No question 
 had been asked about it at the inquest.) 
 
 " That was the name, sir," said Mr. Benny. 
 
 " Who is she ? How did my father come to select 
 her?" 
 
 Mr. Benny had not a notion. 
 
 " By her tone, they must have been pretty well 
 acquainted," continued Mr. Sam, still pondering. 
 " She signs herself ' Yours very truly,' and hopes he 
 has been feeling better since his return. You know 
 absolutely nothing about her?" 
 
 " Absolutely nothing, sir." 
 
 "I wish" — Mr. Sam began, but checked himself. 
 
 What he really wished was that Mr. Benny had used 
 
 less haste in posting the letter — had intercepted it, in 
 
 short. But he did not like to say this aloud. " I 
 
 wish," he went on, " I knew exactly what the old man 
 
 no
 
 MR. SAMUEL'S POLICY 111 
 
 wrote ; how far it committed us, I mean." And by 
 " us " again, he meant the Board of Managers, upon 
 which he had no doubt of being elected to replace his 
 father. 
 
 " You may be sure, sir," answered Mr. Benny, " that 
 he made her a definite offer. My dear master was 
 never one to make two bites of a cherry." 
 
 " Well, we must let her come, and find out, if we 
 can, how far we're committed. Better write at once 
 and fix a date — say next Thursday. You needn't say 
 anything about my father's death. Just make it a 
 formal letter, and sign your own name ; you may add 
 ' Clerk of the School Board.' " 
 
 "Can I rightly do that, sir?" Mr. Benny hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 " Why not ? You are the clerk, aren't you ? As 
 clerk, you answer her simply in the way of business. 
 There's no need to call a meeting of the Board over 
 such a trifle; though, if you wish, I'll explain it 
 personally to the Managers. We may have a dozen 
 cases like this before we get into working order — 
 small odds and ends which require, nevertheless, to 
 be dealt with promptly. We must do what's best, 
 and risk small irregularities." 
 
 Mr. Benny, not quite convinced, fell to composing 
 his letter. Mr. Sam leaned back in his chair and 
 mused, tapping his long teeth with a paper-knife. He 
 wondered what kind of a woman this I [ester Marvin 
 might be, and of what religious "persuasion." In a 
 week or two he would succeed to his father's place 
 on the Board. There would be no opposition, and it 
 seemed to him natural and right that there should be
 
 112 SHINING FERRY 
 
 none. Was he not by far the richest man in the 
 parish ? Samuel Roscwarne studied his Bible de- 
 voutly ; but he did not seek it for anything which 
 might stand in the way of his own will or his private 
 advantage. When he came upon a text condemning 
 riches, for instance, or definitely bidding him to 
 forgive a debtor, he told himself that Christ was 
 speaking figuratively, or was, at any rate, not to be 
 taken literally, and with that he passed on to some- 
 thing more comfortable. He did not, of course, really 
 believe this, but he had to tell himself so ; for other- 
 wise he would have to alter his whole way of life, or 
 confess himself an irreligious man. But he was, on 
 the contrary, a highly religious man, and he had no 
 disposition to alter his life. 
 
 He hated the Church of England, too, because he 
 perceived it to be full of abuses ; and he supposed 
 that the best way to counteract these abuses was to 
 put a spoke in the Church's wheel wherever and 
 whenever he could. In this he but copied the ad- 
 versary — Parson Endicott, for example — who hated 
 Dissent, perceiving that it rested on self-assertiveness, 
 encouraging unlearned men to be opinionative in 
 error. Perceiving this, Parson Endicott supposed 
 himself to be combating error by snatching at every 
 advantage, great or small, which exalted the su- 
 premacy of his Church and left Dissent the worse 
 in any bargain. To neither of these men, both con- 
 fident in their " cause," did it occur for a moment to 
 leave that cause to the energy of its own truth. 
 
 The parson, however, was not likely to bring 
 forward an opposition candidate ; for that would
 
 MR. SAMUEL'S POLICY 113 
 
 conflict with a second principle of conduct, the principle 
 of siding with the rich on all possible occasions. By 
 doing this in his small way he furthered at once the 
 cause of stable government — that is to say, the rule 
 of the poor by the wealthy — and the cause of his 
 own Church, which (he fully believed) in these times 
 depends for existence upon mendicancy. Therefore 
 Mr. Samuel would certainly be elected ; and counting 
 on this, he felt sorry to have missed the chance of 
 giving the teachership, by his casting vote, to one of 
 his own sect — some broad-minded, undenominational 
 person who would teach the little ones to abhor all 
 that savoured of popeiy. To be sure, this Hester 
 Marvin might be such a person. On the other hand, 
 his father had been capable of choosing some Jew, 
 Turk, infidel, or heretic, or even papist. It remained 
 to discover, first, what kind of woman this Hester 
 Marvin might be ; and next, whether or not the 
 terms of her engagement amounted to a con- 
 tract. 
 
 " By the way," said Mr. Sam, as Mr. Benny sat 
 pursing his lips over the letter, "you take in a lodger 
 now and then, I believe?" 
 
 " Now and then," Mr. Benny assented, looking up 
 and biting the end of his quill. He did not under- 
 stand the drift of the question. " Now and then, 
 sir," he repeated; "when my wife's health allows." 
 
 "Then add a line, telling her she shall be met at 
 the station, and that you will put her up." 
 
 " But, Mr. Samuel, I could scarcely bring myself 
 to offer " — 
 
 'Tut, man ; you don't ask her to pay. I'll see to 
 8
 
 114 SHINING FERRY 
 
 that. Merely say that you hope she will be your 
 guest until she finds suitable lodgings." 
 
 " That is very kind of you, sir." 
 
 " Not at all." He reached out a hand for Mr. 
 Benny's letter, read it through, and nodded. " Yes, 
 that will do ; seal it up and let it go by next post. 
 My father had great confidence in you, Benny." 
 
 " He ever did me that great honour, sir." 
 
 " I hope we shall get on together equally well. I 
 daresay we shall." 
 
 " It comforts me to hear you say so, sir. When a 
 man gets up in years — with a long family depending 
 on him " — 
 
 " Of course, if this Miss Marvin should happen to 
 give you further particulars of my father's offer, so 
 much the better," said Mr. Sam negligently. 
 
 As the little man went down the hill toward the 
 ferry he was pounced upon by Mother Butson, who 
 regularly now watched for him and waylaid him on 
 his way home. 
 
 " Hold hard, Peter Benny — it's no use your trying 
 to slip by now ! " 
 
 " I wasn't, Mrs. Butson ; indeed, now, I wasn't ! " 
 he protested ; though indeed this waylaying had 
 become a torment to him. 
 
 " Well, and what have they decided ? " The poor 
 old soul asked it fiercely, yet trembled while waiting 
 for his answer, almost hoping that he would have 
 none. 
 
 Mr. Benny longed to say that nothing was 
 decided ; but the letter in his pocket seemed to
 
 MR. SAMUEUS POLICY 115 
 
 be burning against his ribs. He was a truthful 
 man. 
 
 "It don't lie with me, Mrs. Butson ; I'm only the 
 clerk, and take my orders. But I must warn you not 
 to be too hopeful. The person that Mr. Rosewarne 
 selected will come down and be interviewed. That's 
 only right and proper." 
 
 All the village knew by this time what had 
 happened at the last Board meeting. 
 
 "Coming, is she? Then 'tis true what I've heard, 
 that the old varmint went straight from the meetin' 
 and wrote off to the woman, and that the hand of 
 God struck 'en dead in his chair. Say what you 
 will " — the cracked voice shrilled up triumphantly — 
 " 'tis a judgment ! What's the woman's name ? " 
 
 "That I'm not allowed to tell you. And look 
 here, Mrs. Butson — you mustn't use such talk of my 
 poor dead master; indeed you mustn't." He looked 
 past her appealingly and at Mrs. Trevarthen, who 
 had come to her doorway to listen. 
 
 " I said what I chose to 'en while he was alive, 
 and I'll say what I choose now. You was always 
 a poor span'cl, Peter Benny ; but John Rosewarne 
 never fo'ced me to lick his boots. ' Poor dead 
 masterl' she mimicked. "Iss fay! — dead enough 
 now, and poor, he that ground the poor ! " At 
 once she began to fawn. "But Mr. Sam 'II sex; 
 justice done. You'll speak- a word for me to Mr. 
 Sam? He's a professin 1 Christian, and like as not 
 when this woman shows herself she'll turn out to be 
 some red-hot atheist or Jesuit. To bring the like 
 o' the}' here was jut the dirty trick that old heathen
 
 116 SHINING FERRY 
 
 of yours would enjoy. Some blasphemy it must ha' 
 been, or the hand o' God 'd never have struck 'en as 
 it did." 
 
 " Folks are saying," put in Mrs. Trevarthen from 
 the doorway, " that Sail here ill-wished 'en. But she 
 didn't. 'Twas his own sins compassed his end. Look 
 to your ways, Peter Benny ! Your master was an 
 unbeliever and an oppressor, and now he's in hell- 
 fire." 
 
 Mr. Benny put his hands to his ears and ran from 
 these terrible women. For the moment they had 
 both believed what they said, and yet old Rose- 
 warne's belief or unbelief had nothing to do with 
 their hatred. They gloated because he had been 
 removed in the act of doing that which would 
 certainly impoverish them. They, neither less nor 
 more than Mr. Sam and Parson Endicott, made 
 identical the will of God with their own wants. 
 
 Peter Benny as he crossed the ferry would have 
 been uneasier and unhappier had he understood Mr. 
 Sam's parting words. He had not understood them 
 because he had never laid a scheme against man, 
 woman, or child in his life. Still he was uneasy and 
 unhappy enough : first, because it hurt him that 
 anyone should speak as these old women had spoken 
 of his dead master; next, because he really felt 
 sorry for them, and was carrying a letter to their 
 hurt ; again because, in spite of Mr. Sam's reassuring 
 words, he could not shake off a sense of having 
 exceeded his duties by signing that letter without 
 consulting the Board ; and lastly, because in his 
 confusion he had forgotten his wife's state of health,
 
 MR. SAMUEL'S POLICY 117 
 
 and must break to the poor woman, just arisen 
 from bed and nursing a three-weeks'-old baby, that 
 he had invited a lodger. Now that he came to 
 think of it, there was not a spare bedroom in the 
 house !
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 NUNCEY 
 
 THE driver of the spring -cart was a brown - 
 skinned, bright-eyed, and exceedingly pretty 
 damsel of eighteen or twenty, in a pink 
 print frock with a large crimson rose pinned in its 
 bodice, and a pink sun-bonnet, under the pent of 
 which her dark hair curtained her temples in two 
 ample rippling bands. 
 
 " Why, hullo ! " She reined up. Hester and the 
 young sailor had fallen apart to let her pass, and 
 from her perch she stared down from one side of 
 the road to the other with a puzzled, jolly smile. 
 "Mornin', Tom!" 
 
 " Mornin', Nuncey ! " 
 
 " Sakes alive ! What be carryin' there 'pon your 
 back ? " 
 
 " School furnitcher." 
 
 The girl's eyes wandered from the bundle to 
 Hester, and grew wide with surmise. 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me you're the new school- 
 mistress ! " 
 
 "Yes, I'm Hester Marvin." 
 
 " And I pictered 'ee a frump ! But, my dear soul " 
 
 us
 
 NUNCEY 119 
 
 she asked with sudden solemnity, " what makes 'ee 
 doit?" 
 
 " Do what ? " 
 
 " Why, teach school ? I al'ays reckoned that a 
 trade for old persons — toteling poor bodies, 'most 
 past any use except to worrit the children." 
 
 " And so 'tis," put in the young sailor angrily. 
 
 " Han't been crossed in love, have 'ee? But there ! 
 what be I clackin' about, when better fit I was askin' 
 your pardon for bein' so late ? I'm sent to fetch you 
 over to Troy. Ought to have been here more'n a 
 half-hour ago ; but when you've five children to wash 
 an' dress an' get breakfast for an' see their boots is 
 shined, and after that to catch the hoss and put 'n 
 to cart — well, you'll have to forgive it. That's your 
 luggage Tom's carryin', I s'pose ? — and a funny 
 passel of traps school teachers travel with, I will say. 
 You must be clever, though ; else you couldn't have 
 coaxed Tom Trcvarthen to shoulder such a load. He 
 wouldn't lift his little finger for me." She shot this 
 unrighteous shaft with a mischievous side-glance, and 
 laughed. She had beautiful teeth, and laughing 
 became her mightily. 
 
 " But that is not my luggage." 
 
 " Not your luggage ! Then where — Hullo! have 
 you two been quarrcllin'? Well, I never! You can't 
 have lost much time about it." 
 
 " I left my trunk at the station," Hester went on, 
 flushing yet redder with annoyance. 
 
 "And this here belongs to Mother Butson," 
 declared Tom Trcvarthen, red also. "I'm fetchin' 
 it home for her."
 
 120 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Then take and pitch it into the tail of the trap ; 
 and you, my dear, hand up your bag and climb up 
 alongside o' me. We'll drive back to station, fetch 
 your trunk, and be back in time to overtake Tom 
 at the top o' the hill and give him a lift home. 
 There's plenty room for three on the seat — that is, 
 by squeezin' a bit." 
 
 " You're very kind, Nuncey," said Tom Trevarthen 
 sullenly. " But I'll not take a lift alongside o' she ; 
 and I'll not trouble you with my load, neither." 
 
 " Please yourself, you foolish mortal, you. But — 
 I declare ! You must have had a tiff ! " 
 
 " No tiff at all," corrected Tom, sturdily wrathful. 
 " It's despise her I do — comin' here and drivin' an 
 old 'ooman to the workhouse ! " 
 
 He turned on his heel and trudged away stubbornly 
 up the hill. 
 
 Nuncey gazed back at him for a moment over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Never saw Tom in such a tear in all my life," 
 she commented cheerfully. "Take 'en all the week 
 round, you couldn't find a better-natered boy. Well, 
 jump up, my dear, and we'll fit and get your 
 trunk. He may be cured of his sulks by time we 
 overtake 'en." 
 
 Undoubtedly Hester had excuses enough for feeling 
 hurt and annoyed ; yet what mainly hurt and annoyed 
 her (though she would not confess it) was that this 
 sailor and this girl had each taken her as one on 
 equal terms with themselves. She was a sensible 
 girl, by far too sensible to nurse on second thoughts 
 a conceit that she was their superior simply because
 
 NUNCEY 121 
 
 she spoke better English. Yet habit had taught her 
 to expect some degree of deference from those who 
 spoke incorrectly ; and we are all touchier upon our 
 vaguely reasoned claims than upon those of which we 
 have perfect assurance. 
 
 " J'p, Pleasant ! " Nuncey called to the grey 
 horse, flicking him lightly with the whip. The 
 ill-balanced trap seesawed down the slope, and soon 
 was spinning along the cliff-road, across which the 
 wind blew with such force that Hester caught at her 
 hat. 
 
 " Never mind a bit of breeze, my dear. And as 
 for the touch of damp, 'tis nobbut the pride o' the 
 mornin'. All for heat and pilchar's, as the saying is : 
 we shall have it broiling hot afore noon. Now I 
 come to think of it, 'tis high time we made our 
 introductions. I'm Nuncey Benny — that's short for 
 Annunciation. This here hoss and trap belongs to 
 my mother. She's a regrater when in health ; but 
 there's a baby come. That makes eleven of us. 
 You'll find us a houseful." 
 
 ' Your father was kind enough to offer me " — 
 began Hester. 
 
 " Iss," broke in Nuncey; "father's kind, whatever 
 else he may be. As for considerin' where to stow you, 
 that never crossed his head. You mustn't think, my 
 dear, that you bain't welcome. Only — well, I may so 
 well get it over soon as late — you'll have to put up 
 with a bed in the room with me. Shall you mind?" 
 
 "Of course I shall not mind," said Hester, con- 
 quered at once. 
 
 ' Well, that's uncommon nice: of you ; and I don't
 
 122 SHINING FERRY 
 
 mind tellin' 'ee 'tis the second load you've a-lifted off 
 my mind. For, to start with, I made sure you was 
 goin' to be a frump." 
 
 " But why ? " 
 
 Nuncey had no time to explain, for they were now 
 arrived at the stationmaster's cottage. The station- 
 master himself welcomed them at the door, wiping 
 his mouth. 
 
 " You'll step in and have a dish of tea, the both of 
 you. It'll take off the edge of the mornin'." 
 
 Nuncey declined, after a glance at Hester, and at 
 once fell to discussing the weather with the station- 
 master while he hoisted in the trunk. Two of Hester's 
 earliest discoveries in this strange land were that 
 everyone talked about the weather, and everyone 
 addressed everyone else as " My dear." 
 
 " Well, so long ! " said the stationmaster. " Wind's 
 going round wi' the sun, I see, same as yesterday. 
 We're in for a hot spell, you mark my words." 
 
 " So long ! " Nuncey shook the reins, and they 
 started again. " Is that how sleeves are wearin', up 
 the country?" she asked, after two or three glances 
 at Hester's jacket. 
 
 " They are worn fuller than this, mostly," Hester 
 answered gravely. " But you mustn't take me for an 
 authority." 
 
 " I can see so far into a brick wall as most. Don't 
 tell me ! You're one to think twice about your 
 clothes, for all you look so modest. Boots like yours 
 cost more than I can spend on mine in a month o' 
 Sundays ; iss, and a trifle o' vanity thrown in. You've 
 a very pretty foot — an' I like your face — an' your way
 
 NUNCEY 123 
 
 o' dressin', if you weren't so sad-coloured. What's 
 that for, makin' so bold ? " 
 
 " It's for my father." 
 
 "There now, I'm sorry! — Always was a clumsy 
 fool, and always will be. I thought it might be for 
 old Rosewarne, you bein' hand-in-glove with him." 
 
 " But I scarcely knew him. It was only just now 
 I heard the news " — Hester broke off, colouring 
 again with annoyance. What did these people mean, 
 that they persisted in taking for granted her com- 
 plicity in some mysterious plot ? 
 
 By and by, at the top of the hill, they overtook the 
 young sailor. 
 
 " Got over your sulks, Tom ? " inquired Nuncey 
 cheerfully. " If so, climb up and be sociable — there's 
 plenty room." 
 
 But Tom shook his head without answering, though 
 he drew close to the hedge to let the trap pass. It is 
 difficult to look dignified with a blackboard, an easel, 
 and a coloured globe on one's back. The globe ab- 
 surdly reminded Hester of a picture of Atlas in one 
 of her schoolbooks, and she could not help a smile. 
 A moment later she would have given all her pocket- 
 money to recall that smile, for he had glanced up, 
 glowering, and observed it. 
 
 Nuncey laughed outright. 
 
 " But all the same," she remarked meditatively as 
 they drove on, " I like the lad for 't. 'Tisn' everyone 
 would do so much for the sake of an old 'ooman 
 that never has a good word to fling at nobody, and 
 maybe spanked 'en blue when he was a tacker and 
 went to school wi' her. He's terrible simple; and
 
 124 SHINING FERRY 
 
 decent, too, for a sailor. I reckon there's a many 
 think Mother Butson hardly used that wouldn't crack 
 their backs for her as he's a-doing." 
 
 " He spoke to me," said Hester, "quite as if I were 
 doing a wickedness in coming — as if, at least, I were 
 selfish and unjust. And I never heard of this Mother 
 Butson till half an hour ago ! Do you think I'm un- 
 just?" 
 
 "Well," Nuncey answered judiciously, "if any 
 person had asked me that an hour ago, I'd have 
 agreed with Tom. But 'tis different now I've seen 
 your face." 
 
 Nuncey and the stationmaster were wise weather 
 prophets. Here on the uplands the grey veil of 
 morning fell apart, and dissolved so suddenly that 
 before Hester had time to wonder the miracle was 
 accomplished. A flood of sunshine broke over the 
 ripening cornfields to right and left ; the song of larks 
 rang forth almost with a shout ; beyond the golden 
 ridges of the wheat the grey vapour faded as breath 
 off a mirror, and lo ! a clear line divided the turquoise 
 sky from a sea of intensest iris-blue. As she watched 
 the transformation her heart gave a lift, and the past 
 few hours fell from her like an evil dream. The stuffy 
 compartment, the blear-eyed lamp, the train's roar 
 and rattle, the forlorn arrival on the windy platform 
 — all slipped away into a remote past. She had 
 passed the gates of fear and entered an enchanted 
 land. 
 
 As she looked abroad upon it she marvelled at a 
 hundred differences between it and her native Mid-
 
 NUNCEY 125 
 
 lands. It was wilder — infinitely wilder — than War- 
 wickshire, and at the same time less unkempt ; far 
 more savage in outline, yet in detail sober almost to 
 tidiness. It seemed to acknowledge the hand of some 
 great unknown gardener ; and this gardener was, of 
 course, the sea-breeze now filling her lungs and brac- 
 ing her strength. The shaven, landward-bending 
 thorns and hollies, the close-trimmed hedgerow, the 
 clean-swept highroad, alike proclaimed its tireless 
 attentions. It favoured its own plants, too — the 
 tamarisk on the hedge, the fuchsia and myrtle in 
 the cottage garden. As the spring-cart nid-nodded 
 down the hill towards Troy, the grey roofs of the 
 town broke upon Hester's sight beyond a cloud of 
 fuchsia blossoms in a garden at the angle of the 
 road. 
 
 So steep was the hill, and so closely these roofs and 
 chimneys huddled against it, that Hester leaned back 
 with a catch of the breath that set Nuncey laughing. 
 For the moment she verily supposed herself on the 
 edge of a precipice. She caught one glimpse of a 
 blue water and the masts of shipping, and clutched 
 at the cart-rail as the old grey began to slither at a 
 business-like jog-trot down a street so narrow that, 
 to make way for them, passers-by on foot ran hastily 
 to the nearest doorways, whence one and all nodded 
 ><1 naturedly at Nuncey. Of some houses the doors 
 were reached by steep flights of steps tunnelled 
 through the solid rock ; of others by wooden stair- 
 ways leading to balconies painted blue or green and 
 adorned with pot-plants — geraniums, fuchsias, lemon- 
 verbenas — on ledges imminent over Hester's head.
 
 126 SHINING FERRY 
 
 The most of the passers-by were women carrying 
 pails of water, or country folks with baskets of market 
 stuff. The whole street seemed to be cleaning up 
 and taking in provisions for the day, and all amid a 
 buzz of public gossip, one housewife pausing on her 
 balcony as she shook a duster, and leaning over to 
 discuss market prices with her neighbour chaffering 
 below. The cross-fire of talk died down as the dealers 
 dispersed, snatching up their wares from under the 
 wheels of the spring-cart, while the women took long, 
 silent stock of Hester's appearance and dress. Behind 
 her it broke forth again, louder than ever. 
 
 At the foot of the hill they swung round a corner, 
 and passing a public-house and the rails of the parish 
 church, threaded their way round two more corners, 
 and entered a street scarcely less narrow than the 
 other, but level. Here Nuncey drew up before an 
 ope through which Hester caught another glimpse of 
 blue-green water. They had arrived. 
 
 A grinning lad lifted out Hester's trunk and bore 
 it down the ope to a green-painted doorway, where a 
 rosy-faced, extremely solemn child stared out on the 
 world over a green-painted board, fixed across with 
 the evident purpose of confining him to the house. 
 Having despatched this urchin to warn his mother 
 that " the furriner was come," the lad heaved his 
 burden over the board, dumped it down inside with 
 a bang, and returned, still grinning amiably, to take 
 charge of horse and cart. 
 
 "If you want to know t'other from which in our 
 family," said Nuncey, " there's nothing like beginning 
 early. This is Shake."
 
 NUNCEY 127 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " 
 
 " Father had him christened Shakespeare, but we 
 call him Shake for short. It sounds more natural, 
 somehow. And this here is Robert Burns," she went 
 on, leading the way to the green -painted doorway 
 where the small urchin had resumed his survey of the 
 world beyond home. " That's another of father's in- 
 ventions ; but the poor cheeld pulled down the kettle 
 when he was eighteen months old and scalded hisself 
 all over, so he's gone by his full name ever since. 
 Mother ! " Nuncey called aloud, stepping over the 
 barrier. " Here's the new school-teacher ! " 
 
 A middle-aged, fair-haired woman, with a benign 
 but puzzled smile, appeared in the passage, holding 
 a baby at the breast. 
 
 " You're kindly welcome, my dear ; that is, if you'll 
 excuse my hair being in curl-papers. Dear me, 
 now ! " Mrs. Benny regarded Hester with a look of 
 honest perplexity. " And I was expectin' an older- 
 lookin' person altogether ! " 
 
 Hester followed her into a kitchen which, though 
 untidy and dim, struck her as more than passably 
 clean ; and it crossed her mind at once that its 
 cleanliness must be due to Nuncey and its untidi- 
 ness to Mrs. Benny. The dimness was induced by 
 a crowd of geraniums in the window and a large 
 bird-cage blocking out the light above them. A 
 second large bird-cage hung from a rafter in the 
 middle of the ceiling. 
 
 "And you've been travellin' all night? You must 
 be pinin' for a dish of t<-;i " — 
 
 1 lut here a voice screamed out close to Hester's car —
 
 128 SHINING FERRY 
 
 "What's your name? What's your name? Oh, 
 rock and roll me over, what's your darned name ? " 
 
 " Hester Marv — " she had begun to answer in a 
 fright, when Nuncey broke out laughing. 
 
 " Don't 'ee be afraid of 'en — 'tis only the parrot ; " 
 and Hester laughed too, recovering herself at sight 
 of a grey and scarlet bird eyeing her with angry 
 inquisitiveness from the cage over Mrs. Benny's 
 head. Her gaze wandered apprehensively to the 
 second cage by the window. 
 
 " Oh, he won't speak ! " Nuncey assured her. 
 " He's only a cat." 
 
 " A cat ? " 
 
 " Iss. He ate the last parrot afore this one, and 
 I reckon he died of it. Father had 'en stuffed and 
 put 'en in the cage instead. Just go and look for 
 yourself; he's as natural as life." 
 
 " I was thinkin' a ham rasher," suggested Mrs. 
 Benny, with her kindly, unsettled smile. " Nuncey, 
 will you hold the baby, or shall I ? " 
 
 "You give me the frying-pan," commanded 
 Nuncey, turning up her sleeves. " What's the matter 
 with you, Robert Burns? And what's become of 
 your manners?" she demanded of the urchin who 
 had followed them in from the passage, and now stood 
 gripping Hester's skirts and gazing up at her, as she 
 in turn gazed up at the absurd cat in the parrot's 
 cage. 
 
 " What great eyes she've got ! " exclaimed Robert 
 Burns in an awe-stricken voice. 
 
 "'All the better to see you with,' " quoted Hester, 
 laughing and looking down on him.
 
 NUNCEY 129 
 
 " That's in Red Riding Hood. She knows about 
 stories ! " The child clapped his hands. 
 
 " Well," put in Mrs. Benny, seating herself with 
 a sigh as the ham rasher began to frizzle, " you 
 may say what you like about education, but mothers 
 ought to thank the Lord for it. Sometimes, as 'tis, 
 I feel as if the whole world was on my shoulders, 
 and I can't be responsible for it any longer ; but 
 what would happen if 'twasn't for the school bell at 
 nine o'clock there's no knowing. You'd like a wash, 
 my dear ? " 
 
 " I should indeed," answered Hester. 
 
 " Sometimes I loses count," went on Mrs. Benny, 
 not pursuing her invitation, but standing with a far- 
 away gaze bent upon the geraniums in the window ; 
 " but there's eleven of 'em, and three buried, and five 
 at school this moment. I began with two boys — two 
 years between each — and then came Nuncey. There's 
 four years between her and Shake, but after that you 
 may allow two years to each again, quite like Jacob's 
 ladder." 
 
 " Lord bless 'ee, mother ! " interrupted Nuncey, 
 glancing up from the frying-pan, " she don't want to 
 be told I'm singular. She've found out that already. 
 Here's the kettle boilin' — fit and give her a cup of 
 tea, and take her upstairs. 'Tis near upon half-past 
 nine al ready, and at half-past ten father was to be 
 here to fetch her across to see Mr. Samuel — though, 
 for my part, I hold 'twould be more Christian to 
 put her to bed and let her sleep the forenoon out." 
 
 When Hester descended to breakfast Mr. Benny 
 9
 
 130 SHINING FERRY 
 
 had already arrived ; and he too could not help 
 showing astonishment at her youthful appearance. 
 
 " But twenty-five is not so young, after all," she 
 maintained, laughing. " I feel my years, I assure 
 you. Why are you all in conspiracy to add to 
 them ? " 
 
 " The late Mr. Rosewarne had given us no 
 particulars," began Mr. Benny. 
 
 " He wrote at length to me about the school and 
 his hopes for it." 
 
 " You knew him, then, Miss Marvin ? " 
 
 " He was, in a fashion, a friend of my father's. He 
 used to visit us regularly once a year. — But let me 
 show you his letter." 
 
 " Not on any account ! " Mr. Benny put up a 
 flurried hand. " It — it wouldn't be right." He said 
 it almost sharply. Hester, puzzled to know what 
 offence she had nearly committed, and in some 
 degree hurt by his tone, thrust the letter back in 
 her pocket.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 
 
 WELL?" Mr. Sam lifted his eyes from his 
 writing-table. 
 " Miss Marvin has arrived, sir, and is wait- 
 ing in the morning-parlour," Mr. Benny announced. 
 
 " Let her wait a moment. I suppose she takes 
 the line that we've definitely engaged her ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir, that she takes what you might 
 call a line ; but there's no doubt she believes herself 
 engaged. She talks very frankly, and is altogether 
 a nice, pleasant-spoken young person." 
 
 " You didn't happen to find out what my father 
 wrote to her ? " 
 
 " Of her own accord she offered to show me his 
 letter." 
 
 " Well, and what did it say? " 
 
 " I didn't read it, sir." 
 
 'You didn't read it?" Mr. Sam repeated in slow 
 astonishment. 
 
 "No, sir. I felt it wasn't fair to her," said Mr. 
 Benny. 
 
 Hi, employer regarded him for a moment with 
 sourly meditative eyes.
 
 132 SHINING FERRY 
 
 "You had best show her in at once," he com- 
 manded sharply. 
 
 He reseated himself, and did not rise when Hester 
 entered, but slewed his chair around, nodded gloomily 
 in response to her slight bow, and, tapping his knees 
 with a paper-knife, treated her to a long, deliberate 
 stare. 
 
 " Take a seat, please." 
 
 Hester obeyed with a quiet " Thank you." 
 
 " You have come, I believe, in answer to a letter of 
 my father's ? Might I ask you what he said, exactly?" 
 
 Hester's hand went towards her pocket, but paused. 
 She had taken an instant aversion from this man. 
 
 " My father," he went on, noting her hesitation, 
 " has since died suddenly, as you know. His affairs 
 are in some confusion, of course." This was untrue, 
 but Mr. Sam had no consciousness of telling a lie. 
 The phrase was commonly used of dead men's affairs. 
 " In this matter of your engagement, for instance, 
 I am moving in the dark. I can find no record of 
 it among his papers." 
 
 " I answered him, sir ; but my letter arrived, it 
 seems, after his death. Mr. Benny replied to it." 
 
 " Yes, to be sure, I saw your letter, but it did not 
 tell me how far the negotiations had gone." 
 
 " You are one of the Managers, sir ? " 
 
 " Well, not precisely ; but you will find that makes 
 little difference. I am to be placed on the Board as 
 my father's successor." 
 
 " The offer was quite definite," said Hester calmly. 
 " I would show you the letter, but some parts of 
 it are private."
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 133 
 
 " Now why in the world was she ready to show 
 it to Benny?" he asked himself. Aloud he said, 
 " You were a friend, then, of my father's ? Is it for 
 him, may I ask, that you wear mourning?" 
 
 " No, sir ; for my own father. Mr. Rosewarne and 
 he were friends — oh, for many years. I asked about 
 it once, when I was quite a girl, and why Mr. Rose- 
 warne came to visit us once every year as he did. 
 My father told me that it had begun in a quarrel, 
 when they were young men ; it may have been when 
 my father served in the army, in the barracks at 
 Warwick. I don't remember that he said so, yet 
 somehow I have always had an idea that the quarrel 
 went back to that time ; but he said that they had hated 
 one another, and made friends after a long time, and 
 that your father had the most to forgive, being in 
 the wrong. I remember those words, because they 
 sounded so queer to me and I could not understand 
 them. When I was eighteen, I went out to get my 
 living, and did not see Mr. Rosewarne for many years 
 until the other day, though he came regularly." 
 
 " The other day ? " Mr. Sam stared at her 
 blankly. 
 
 "On the 5th. Mr. Rosewarne always paid his visit 
 on the 5th of June." 
 
 " I don't understand you in the least. A minute 
 ■ you told me that your father was dead!" 
 
 ' Yes ; he died almost two months ago. But Mr. 
 Rosewarne wrote and asked leave to come, since it 
 for the last time." 
 
 " Your mother entertained him ? " 
 
 Hester shook her head. "I have no mother. He
 
 134 SHINING FERRY 
 
 came as my guest, and that evening — for he never 
 spent more than one night with us — we talked for 
 a long while. He knew, of course, that I was a 
 schoolmistress ; and he began to mock at some 
 things in which I believe very deeply. He did it 
 to try me, perhaps. I don't know whether he came 
 meaning to try me, or seeing me alone in the world, 
 and making ready to leave the old home, he suddenly 
 took this notion into his head. At any rate, I did 
 not guess for a moment ; and when he spoke scorn of 
 girls' teaching, I answered him — too hotly, I thought 
 at the time ; but it seems that he forgave me." She 
 rose. " I have told you all this, sir, because you say 
 you are in the dark. I am here because Mr. Rose- 
 warne offered me the post. But you seem disposed 
 to deny this ; and so in fairness I must consult a 
 friend, if I can find one, or a lawyer perhaps, before 
 showing you the letter." 
 
 " Wait a moment, please." Hester's story had held 
 a light as it were, though but a faint one, to an un- 
 explored passage in old Rosewarne's life; and to Mr. 
 Sam every unexplored corner in that life was now 
 to be suspected. " You jump to conclusions, Miss 
 Marvin. I merely meant to say that as my father's 
 executor I have to use reasonable caution. Might 
 I inquire your age? Excuse me, I know that 
 ladies "— 
 
 " I am twenty-five," she struck in sharply. 
 
 " Married, or unmarried ? " 
 
 " Unmarried." 
 
 " You will excuse me for saying that I am surprised. 
 A young person of your attractiveness " —
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 135 
 
 " Have you any more questions, sir?" 
 
 " Eh ? — ah, to be sure ! Qualifications ? " 
 
 Hester briefly enumerated these. He did not appear 
 to be listening, but sat eyeing her abstractedly, while 
 he rattled the point of the paper-knife between his 
 upper and lower teeth. 
 
 " Yes, yes — quite satisfactory. Religious views ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " 
 
 " Religious views ? " 
 
 " If you really think that a necessary question, I 
 was baptized and brought up in the Church of 
 England." 
 
 " Not a bigoted Churchwoman, I hope?" 
 
 " Not bigoted, I certainly hope," Hester answered 
 demurely. 
 
 " I feel sure of it," said Mr. Sam, rising gallantly. 
 "In the matter of so-called apostolic succession, for 
 instance" — 
 
 But here there came a tap at the door, and Eliza- 
 beth Jane, the housemaid, announced that Parson 
 Endicott had called. "Show him in," ordered Mr. 
 Sam promptly, and at the same time — having 
 suddenly made up his mind — he flung Hester an 
 insufferably confidential glance, which seemed to say, 
 " Never mind him ; you and I are in the same boat." 
 
 Parson Endicott suffered from shortness of sight 
 and a high parsonic manner. He paused on the 
 threshold to wipe his eyeglasses, adjusted them on 
 his nose, and gazing around the room, cleared his 
 throat as if about to address a congregation. 
 
 "Good-day, parson." Mr. Sam saluted him 
 amiably, still without rising. "You've come in the
 
 136 SHINING FERRY 
 
 nick of time. I have just been chatting with Miss 
 Marvin here — our new schoolmistress." 
 
 Hester divined that, for some reason, Mr. Samuel 
 had decided to accept her claim ; and that for some 
 reason equally occult he meant to give the clergy- 
 man no choice but to accept it. 
 
 " Indeed ? — er — yes, to be sure, I am pleased to 
 make your acquaintance, Miss Marvin," said Parson 
 Endicott mellifiuously, with a glance which seemed 
 to distinguish Hester kindly from the ordinary furni- 
 ture of the room. This was his habitual way of 
 showing cordial goodwill to his social inferiors, and 
 the poor man had lived to the age of fifty-six without 
 guessing that they invariably saw through it. Having 
 bestowed this glance of kindness upon Hester, he 
 turned to Mr. Sam with another, which plainly 
 asked how far (as one person of importance con- 
 ferring with another) he might take it that the 
 creature before them was a satisfactory creature. 
 
 " You're in luck's way," said Mr. Sam, answering 
 this look. " She's a Churchwoman." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Rosewarne " — Parson Endicott 
 pressed the finger-tips of both hands together, hold- 
 ing them in front of his stomach — " I am gratified 
 — deeply gratified ; but you must not suppose for 
 one moment — h'm — whatever my faults, I take 
 some credit to myself for broad - mindedness. A 
 Churchwoman, eh ? " — he beamed on Hester — " and 
 in other respects, I hope, satisfactory ? " 
 
 "Quite." Mr. Sam turned to Hester. "Would 
 you mind running over your qualifications again ? 
 To tell the truth, I've forgotten 'em."
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 137 
 
 Hester, with an acute sense of shame, again re- 
 hearsed the list. 
 
 " Quite so," said Parson Endicott, who had 
 obviously not been listening. He turned to Mr. 
 Sam with inquiry in his eye. " I think, perhaps — 
 if Miss Marvin" — 
 
 " I daresay she won't mind stepping into the next 
 room," said Mr. Sam, turning his back on her, and 
 calmly reseating himself. The parson glanced at 
 Hester with polite inquiry, and, as she bowed, 
 stepped to open the door for her. With head bent 
 to hide the flush on her cheeks, she passed out into 
 the great parlour. 
 
 Now the great parlour overlooked the garden 
 through three tall windows, of which Susannah had 
 drawn down the blinds half-way and opened the 
 lower sashes, so that the room seemed to Hester 
 deliciously fresh and cool. It was filled, too, with 
 the fragrance of a jarful of peonies, set accurately 
 in the middle of the long bare table ; and she stood 
 for a moment — her sight yet misty with indignant, 
 wounded pride — staring at the reflection of their 
 crimson blooms in the polished mahogany. 
 
 These two men were intolerable : and yet they 
 only translated into meaner terms the opinion which 
 everyone in this strange country seemed to have 
 formed of her. She thought of the young sailor, of 
 Nuncey, of Mr. Benny. All these were simple souls, 
 and patently willing to believe the best of a fellow- 
 creature ; yet each in a different way had treated her 
 with suspicion, as though she were here to seek her 
 own interests, and with a selfish disregard of others'.
 
 138 SHINING FERRY 
 
 The young sailor had openly and hotly accused her 
 of it. Nuncey and her father, though kind, and even 
 delicately eager to make her welcome, as clearly held 
 some disapproval in reserve — were puzzled somehow 
 to account for her. And she was guiltless She 
 had come in response to a plain invitation, thinking 
 only of good work to be done. No ; what she found 
 intolerable was not these two men, but the whole 
 situation. 
 
 She turned with a start. Something had flown in 
 through the open midmost window, and fallen with a 
 thud on the floor a few yards from her feet. 
 
 She stepped across and stooped to examine it. It 
 was the upper half of a tattered and somewhat grimy 
 rag doll. 
 
 To account for this apparition we must cross the 
 garden, to the summer-house, where Myra and Clem 
 had hidden themselves away from the heat with a 
 book, and, for the twentieth time perhaps, were lost 
 in the adventures of Jack the Tinker and the Giant 
 Blunderbuss. As a rule Myra would read a portion 
 of the story, and the pair then fell to acting it over 
 together. In this way Clem had slain, in the course 
 of his young life, many scores of giants, wizards, 
 dragons, and other enemies of mankind, his sister 
 the while keeping watch over his blindness, and call- 
 ing to him when and where to deliver the deadly 
 stroke. But to-day the heat disinclined them for 
 these dramatic exertions, and they sat quiet, even on 
 reaching the point at which Jack the Tinker, his friend 
 Tom, the good - natured giant, and Tom's children,
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 139 
 
 young Tom and Jane, fare forth with slings for their 
 famous hunting. 
 
 " ' They soon knocked down as many kids, hares, 
 and rabbits as they desired. They caught some 
 colts, placed the children on two of them and the 
 game on the others, and home they went.' " 
 
 Myra glanced up at Clem, for this was a passage 
 which ever called to him like a trumpet. But to-day 
 Clem spread out both hands, protesting. 
 
 " ' On their return, whilst waiting for supper, Jack 
 wandered around the castle, and was struck by seeing 
 a window which he had not before observed. Jack 
 was resolved to discover the room to which this 
 window belonged ; so he very carefully noticed its 
 position and then threw his hammer in through it, 
 that he might be certain of the spot when he found 
 his tool inside the castle. The next day, after 
 dinner' — 
 
 " Wait a moment, Clem dear ! " 
 
 " Oh, but we must ! " Clem had jumped to his 
 feet. 
 
 " It's too dreadfully hot. Very well, then ; but 
 wait for the end. 
 
 " ' The next day, after dinner, when Tom was 
 having his snooze, Jack took Tom's wife Jane with 
 him, and they began a search for the hammer near 
 the spot where Jack supposed the window should be; 
 but they saw no signs of one in any part of the 
 walls. They discovered, however, a strangely 
 fashioned worm-eaten oak hanging- press. They 
 carefully examined this, but found nothing. At 
 last Jack, striking the back of it with his fist, was
 
 140 SHINING FERRY 
 
 convinced from the sound that the wall behind it 
 was hollow. He and Jane went steadily to work, 
 and with some exertion they moved the press aside 
 and disclosed a stone door. They opened this, and 
 there was Jack's hammer lying amidst a pile of 
 bones, evidently the relics of some of old Blunder- 
 buss's wives, whom he had imprisoned in the wall 
 and left to perish there ! ' " 
 
 Myra shut the book with a slam, and, groping 
 beneath the seat of the summer-house, found and 
 handed to Clem the torso of an old rag doll, which, 
 because it might be thrown against a window without 
 breaking the glass, served as their wonted substitute 
 for the Tinker's hammer. 
 
 " O-oh ! " cried Myra, clutching at Clem and draw- 
 ing him back from the sudden apparition in the 
 window ; and so for a dozen seconds she and Hester 
 stared at one another. 
 
 " Good-morning ! " 
 
 " Good-morning ! " Myra hesitated a moment. 
 " Though I don't know who you are. Oh, but yes 
 I do ! You're the new teacher, and it's no use your 
 pretending." 
 
 "Am I pretending?" asked Hester. 
 
 " Yes ; but I know what to do." The child nodded 
 her head defiantly and made an elaborate sign of the 
 cross, first over Clem and then upon the front of 
 her own bodice. " That's against witches," she 
 announced. 
 
 "Please don't take me for a witch!" It was 
 absurd, but really Hester began to wonder where
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 141 
 
 these misunderstandings would end. The look, too, 
 on the boy's face puzzled her. 
 
 " I always wondered," said Myra, unmoved, " if the 
 new teacher would turn out a witch. Witches always 
 start by making themselves into young and beautiful 
 ladies ; that's their trick. Whoever heard of a teacher 
 being a young and beautiful lady ? " 
 
 "Well," answered Hester, between a sigh and a 
 smile, "a compliment's a compliment, however it 
 comes. I am the witch, then ; and who may you be ? 
 — Hansel and Grethel, I suppose? I don't think, 
 though, that Hansel really believes me a witch, by 
 the way he's looking at me." 
 
 " He isn't looking at you at all. Come away, 
 Clem ! " She led the boy away by the hand, which 
 he gave to her obediently, but left him when half-way 
 across the turf and came swiftly back. " He wasn't 
 looking at you. He's blind." 
 
 " Ah, poor child ! I am sorry — please tell me 
 your name, and believe that I am sorry." 
 
 "If you were sorry, you'd go away, and not come 
 teaching here." Myra delivered this Parthian shaft 
 over her shoulder as she walked off. At the same 
 moment Hester heard a door open in the room 
 behind her, and Parson Endicott came forth from the 
 counting-house. 
 
 " Ah — er — Miss Marvin " — He paused with a lift 
 of his eyebrows at the sight of the rag doll in Hester's 
 hand. She, on her part, felt a sudden hysterical 
 desire to laugh wildly. 
 
 " It — it isn't mine !" she managed to say in a faint 
 voice and with a catch in her throat.
 
 142 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " I had not supposed so," Parson Endicott answered 
 gravely. " I came to tell you, Miss Marvin, that Mr. 
 Samuel Rosewarne and I have agreed to recognise 
 your claim. By so doing we shall be piously ob- 
 serving his father's wishes, and — er — I anticipate no 
 opposition from my fellow-members on the Board. 
 The school — you have already paid it a visit, per- 
 haps? No? It will, I venture to think, exceed your 
 expectations. The school is furnished and ready. 
 I suggest — if the other Managers consent — that we 
 open it formally on Tuesday next, with a short 
 religious service, consecrating, so to speak, your future 
 labours. Yours is a wonderful sphere of usefulness, 
 Miss Marvin ; and may I say what pleasure it gives 
 me to learn that you are a Churchwoman. A regular 
 communicant, I hope?" 
 
 Hester was silent. She disliked this man, and saw 
 no reason to be hurried into making any confession 
 to him. 
 
 " It is a point upon which I am accustomed to lay 
 great stress. In these days, with schismatics on all 
 hands to contend against, it behoves all members of 
 the true Church to show a bold and united front." 
 He leaned his head on one side and looked at her 
 interrogatively. " Do you play the harmonium ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 But at this point Mr. Sam thrust his head out 
 through the counting-house doorway, and the parson 
 coughed discreetly, as much as to say that the answer 
 might wait. 
 
 " Well, Miss Marvin," said Mr. Sam jocosely, " we've 
 fixed it up for you between us ! "
 
 HESTER IS ACCEPTED 143 
 
 Hester thanked them both briefly, and wished 
 them good-day. 
 
 " She dresses respectably," said the parson, when 
 the two were left alone. " I detect a certain earnest- 
 ness in her, though I cannot say as yet how far it is 
 based on genuine religious principles." 
 
 " She is more comely than I expected," said Mr. Sam. 
 
 At the ferry Hester found Nuncey awaiting her 
 with a boat-load of the Benny children. 
 
 " I reckoned you'd be here just - about - now," 
 Nuncey hailed her. " Come'st along for a bathe wi' 
 the children ! I've a-brought a bathin' suit for 'ee." 
 
 " But I can't swim," Hester answered in alarm, and 
 added, as she stepped into the boat, " Nuncey, don't 
 laugh at me, but until to-day I had never seen the 
 sea in my life." 
 
 Nuncey looked her up and down quizzically. "And 
 I've never seen Lunnon ! Never mind, my dear; 
 'tisn' too late to begin. There's none of this crew 
 knows how to swim but me and Tenny here," she 
 pointed out a boy of eleven or twelve. " We'll just 
 row out to harbour's mouth ; there's a cove where we 
 can put the littlest ones to paddle. And after that 
 I'll larn 'cc how to strike out and use your legs, if 
 you've a mind to. It'll do 'ee good to kick a bit, I'll 
 wage, after a dose of Mister Sam. Well, and how 
 did you like 'en ? " 
 
 'I didn't like him at all." I Fester almost broke 
 down. "Please, Nuncey, be good to me! It — it 
 see ryone was banded against me to-day, to 
 
 think badly of me."
 
 144 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Be good to 'ee ? Why, to be sure I will ! Sit 'ee 
 down and unlace your boots, while me and Tenny 
 pulls. Care killed the cat — 'cos why? He wouldn't 
 wash it off in salt water." 
 
 They rowed down past the quays and out beyond 
 the ancient fort at the harbour's mouth. On the 
 opposite shore a reef of rock ran out, and on the 
 ridge stood a white wooden cross, " put up," so 
 Nuncey informed her, " because Pontius Pilate landed 
 here one time." Beyond this ridge they found a 
 shingly beach secluded from the town, warmed by 
 the full rays of the westering sun. There they un- 
 dressed, one and all, and for half an hour were 
 completely happy. To be sure, Hester's happiness 
 contained a fair admixture of fright when Nuncey 
 took her hand and led her out till the water rose more 
 than waist-high about her. 
 
 " Now trust to me ; lean forward, and see if you 
 can't lift your feet off the ground," said Nuncey, 
 slipping a hand under her breast. Hester tried her 
 hardest to be brave, and although no swimming was 
 accomplished that day, the trial ended in peals of 
 laughter. She splashed ashore at length, gleeful, 
 refreshed in body and mind, and resolved to make 
 herself as good a swimmer as Nuncey, who swam like 
 a duck.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE OPENING DAY 
 
 IT often happens, when a number of persons meet 
 together for some purpose in itself unselfish, 
 that there prevails in the assembly a spirit 
 of its own, recognisably good, surprising even the 
 pettiest with a sudden glow in their hearts, and a 
 sudden revelation that the world is a cheerfuller place 
 than in their daily lives they take it for. This 
 cheerful congregational spirit I take to flow from a 
 far deeper source than the emotion, for example, 
 which a great preacher commands in his audience. 
 It may be — indeed, usually is — accompanied by very 
 poor oratory. The occasion may be trivial as you 
 please ; that it be unselfish will suffice to unlock 
 the goodness within men, who, if often worse than 
 they believe, and usually than they make believe, are 
 always better than they know. 
 
 This spirit prevailed at the school opening, and 
 because of it Hester felt happy and confident during 
 the little function, and ever afterwards remembered 
 it with pleasure. For the moment Church and 
 Dissent seemed to forget their meannesses and 
 jealousies. The morning sun shone without ; the 
 bree/.e played through the open windows with a 
 10
 
 146 SHINING FERRY 
 
 thousand hedgerow scents ; the two score of children 
 ranged by their desks, fresh-faced and in their cleanest 
 clothes, suggested thoughts innocent and deep as 
 the gospel story ; and if Parson Endicott was long- 
 winded, and Mr. Sam spoke tunelessly and accom- 
 panied his performance on the bones, so to speak 
 — that is, by pulling at his knuckles till the joints 
 cracked — consolation soon followed. For third and 
 last came the turn of the Inspector, who had halted 
 on his progress through the county to attend a 
 ceremony of the kind in which he took delight. He 
 had lately been transferred from the Charity Com- 
 mission to this new work, and it fell to him at a time 
 when the selfish ambitions die down, and in their 
 place, if a man's heart be sound, there springs up a 
 fatherly tenderness for the young, with a passionate 
 desire to help them. Hester could not guess that 
 this grave and courteous gentleman, grey -haired, 
 clean shaven, scholarly in his accent, neat even to 
 primness in his dress, spoke with a vision before him 
 of an England to be made happy by making its 
 children happy, that the roots of the few simple 
 thoughts he uttered were watered by ideal springs — 
 
 " I will not cease from mental fight, 
 
 Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, 
 Till we have built Jerusalem 
 
 In England's green and pleasant land." 
 
 Simple as the thoughts were, and directly spoken, the 
 children gazed at him with set faces, not appearing to 
 kindle with any understanding ; and yet, after the 
 manner of children, they were secreting a seed here 
 and there, to germinate in their dark little minds later
 
 THE OPENING DAY 147 
 
 on, as in due time Hester discovered. She herself, 
 seated at the harmonium, felt a lift of the heart and 
 mist gathering over her sight at the close of his quiet 
 peroration, and a tear fell as she stretched out her 
 hands over the opening chords of the " Old 
 Hundredth." All sang it with a will, and Parson 
 Endicott with an unction he usually reserved for 
 " The Church's One Foundation." 
 
 With a brief prayer and the benediction the 
 ceremony ended, and while the elders filed out the 
 Inspector walked over for a few words with Hester. 
 
 " Ever since I learnt your name, Miss Marvin — 
 excuse me, it is not a common one — I have been 
 wanting to ask you a question. I used to have 
 an old friend — Jeremy Marvin — who lived at War- 
 wick, and found for me some scores of old books 
 in his time. I was wondering " — 
 
 " He was my father, sir." 
 
 " Indeed ? Then, please, you must let me shake 
 hands with his daughter. Yes, yes " — with a glance 
 down at her black skirt — " I heard of his death, and 
 with a real sense of bereavement." 
 
 " I have addressed and posted many a parcel to you, 
 sir, in the days before I left home to earn my living." 
 
 "And you weren't going to tell me that? You 
 left me to find out — yes, yes; 'formidable Inspector,' 
 and that sort of thing, eh ? I'm not an ogre, though. 
 Now this little discovery has just put the finishing 
 touch to a delightful morning ! " 
 
 Hester, encouraged by his smile, laughed merrily, 
 and so did he ; less at the spoken words than because 
 of the good gladness brimming their hearts.
 
 148 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " But tell me," he went on, becoming serious again, 
 " if a child, out of shyness, hid from you a small 
 secret of that sort, you would be sorry — eh ? And 
 you would rightly be sorry, because by missing that 
 little of his entire trust you had by so much fallen 
 short of being a perfect teacher." 
 
 " And two of these children," thought Hester, with 
 a glance at Clem and Myra, "solemnly believe I am a 
 witch ! " 
 
 As the Inspector went down the hill towards the 
 ferry, he overtook another and older acquaintance 
 in an old college friend. This was Sir George 
 Dinham of Troy, who had attended the ceremony 
 uninvited, and greatly to the awe of everyone 
 assembled — the Inspector and Hester alone excepted. 
 Indeed, his presence had bidden fair at the start to up- 
 set the proceedings ; for Parson Endicott and Mr. Sam 
 had both approached him hat in hand, and begged 
 him, not without servility, to preside. This proposal 
 he had declined with his habitual shy, melancholy 
 smile, and shrunk away to a back row of the audience. 
 In his great house over Troy he lived a recluse : a 
 scholar, a childless man, the last of his race, rarely 
 seen by the townsfolk, of whom two-thirds at least 
 were his tenants. He had heard of the Inspector's 
 coming, and some ray of remembered affection had 
 enticed him forth from his shell, to listen. Now, at 
 the sound of the Inspector's footstep on the road 
 behind him, he turned and waited, leaning on his 
 stick. The two men had not met since a Com- 
 memoration Ball when young Dinham led his friend
 
 THE OPENING DAY 149 
 
 proudly up to a beautiful girl, his bride that was to be. 
 She died a bare six weeks later ; and from that day 
 her lover had buried himself with his woe. 
 
 " George ! " 
 
 " How d'ye do, Jack ? I had to turn out to listen, 
 you see — ecce quani sempiterna vox juventutis ! You 
 have improved on your old debating style, having, as 
 I gather, found belief." 
 
 The Inspector flushed. " Ah, you gathered that ? " 
 
 " Yes, I haven't lost the knack of understanding 
 those I once understood. Not that it needed any- 
 thing of the sort. Man, you were admirably straight 
 — and gentle, too — you that used to be intolerant. 
 You mustn't think, though, that I'm convinced; I 
 can't afford to be." 
 
 "You mean—?" 
 
 " I mean that, if you are right, I ought to be a sun 
 worshipper, and sit daily at dawn on top of my tower 
 yonder, warming my hands against the glow of chil- 
 dren's faces, trooping to school. Whereas the little 
 beggars run wild and rob my orchards, and I don't 
 remember at this moment my parish schoolmaster's 
 name." 
 
 The Inspector bethought him of the broken bridge 
 in his friend's life — the bridge by which men cross 
 over from self into love of a new generation — and 
 was silent. 
 
 " But look here," Sir George went on, " the fun was 
 your preaching the doctrine in that temple. You 
 didn't know the man who built it. He died a week 
 or two ago; a man of character, I tell you, and a big 
 fellow, too, in his way."
 
 150 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " I have heard of this Rosewarne. All I know of 
 him is that he's to be thanked for the best-fitted 
 school, for its size, in all Cornwall. I'm not talking 
 of expense merely ; he used thought, down to the 
 details. When you begin to study these things, you 
 recognise thought, down to the raising or lowering 
 of a desk, or the screws in a cupboard. You don't 
 get your fittings right by giving carte blanche to a 
 wholesale firm." 
 
 "Of course you don't. But what, think you, had 
 the man in view? I tell you, Jack, you are a fossil 
 beside him. You talk of making good citizens, quite 
 in the old Hellenic style. Oh yes, I recognised the 
 incurable Aristotle in your exhortation, though you 
 did address it to two score of rustic British children. 
 But, my dear fellow, you are a philosopher in a 
 barbarian's court, and your barbarian has been read- 
 ing his Darwin. Where you see a troop of little 
 angels " — 
 
 " Non Angeli sed Angli" the Inspector put in, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Where you behold a vision, then, of little English 
 citizens growing up to serve the State, he saw a horde 
 of little struggle-for-lifers climbing on each other's 
 backs ; and these fellows — that son of his, and the 
 parson — will follow his line by instinct. They don't 
 reason ; but Darwin and the rest have flung them on 
 the scent of selfishness, and they have a rare nose for 
 self. Struggle-for-life or struggle-for-creed, the scent 
 is the same, and they're hot upon it." 
 
 " Think of these last fifty years of noble reform. 
 Is England going back upon herself — upon the spirit,
 
 THE OPENING DAY 151 
 
 for instance, that raised Italy, freed the slave, and 
 cared for the factory child ? " 
 
 " To be sure she will. She has found a creed to 
 vindicate the human brute, and the next generation 
 — mark my words — will be predatory. Within 
 twenty years we shall be told that it is inevitable 
 the weak should suffer to enrich the strong ; we shall 
 accept the assurance, and our poets will hymn it 
 passionately." 
 
 " If that day should ever come, we can still die 
 fighting it. But I trust to Knowledge to do her 
 own work. You remember that sentence in the 
 Laws, ' Many a victory has been and will be suicidal 
 to the victors, but education is never suicidal ' ? Nor 
 will you persuade me easily that the new mistress up 
 yonder" — the Inspector nodded back at the school 
 building — " is going to train her children to be little 
 beasts of prey." 
 
 "The girl with the Madonna face? No; you're 
 right there. But the Managers will find a short 
 way with her; she'll go." 
 
 " She turns out to be the daughter of an old friend 
 of mine, Marvin of Warwick, the second-hand book- 
 seller." 
 
 " Marvin ? Jeremiah Marvin ? Why, I must have 
 received his catalogues by the score." 
 
 "Jeremy," his friend corrected him. "He was 
 christened Jeremiah, to be sure, and told me once 
 it was the handiest name on earth, and could be 
 made to express anything, ' from the lugubrious, sir, 
 to the rollicking. In my young days, sir,' — for he 
 had been a soldier in his time — ' I was Corporal
 
 152 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Jerry. Corporal Jerry Marvin ! How's that for a 
 name ? Jeremiah I hold in reserve against the blows 
 of destiny or promotion to a better world. But 
 Jeremy, sir, as I think you'll allow, is the only wear 
 for a second-hand bookseller.' A whimsical fellow ! " 
 
 " He is dead, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, he died a few weeks since ; and poorly-off, 
 I'm afraid. He had a habit of reading the books 
 he vended. Look here, George" — the Inspector 
 halted in the middle of the roadway — " I want you 
 to do me a favour, or rather, to promise one." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " I want you to promise that, if these fellows get rid 
 of Miss Marvin, you will see that she suffers no harsh 
 treatment from them. I can find her another post, 
 no doubt ; but there may be an interval in which you 
 can help." 
 
 " Very well," Sir George answered, after a pause. 
 " I can manage that. But they'll eject her, you may 
 bet."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 
 
 WHEN the company had departed Hester 
 arranged her small troop at their desks — 
 boys and girls and "infants" — and made them 
 a speech. It was a very short speech, asking for their 
 affection, and somehow she found herself addressing 
 it to Myra, whose dark eyes rested on her with a 
 stare of unyielding suspicion. On hearing that the 
 two children were to attend the Board School, Aunt 
 Purchase had broken out into vehement protest, the 
 exact purport of which Myra did not comprehend. 
 But she gathered that a wrong of some kind was 
 being done to her and (this was more important) to 
 Clem, and she connected it with the loss of their 
 liberty. Until this moment she had known no 
 schooling. Her grandmother in stray hours had 
 taught her the alphabet and some simple reading, 
 and the rest of her knowledge she had picked up 
 for herself. She well remembered the last of these 
 stray hours. It fell on a midsummer evening, three 
 years before, when she and Clem — then a child of 
 four — had spent a long day riding to and fro in the 
 hay waggons. Now Mrs. Rosewarne for the last (c\v 
 years of her life, and indeed ever since Myra could 
 
 15:j
 
 154 SHINING FERRY 
 
 remember, had been a cripple, confined to the house 
 or to her small garden, save only when she entered 
 an ancient covered vehicle (called " the Car ") and 
 was jogged into Liskeard to visit her dressmaker, or 
 over to Damelioc to attend one of Lady Killiow's 
 famous rose fetes. It was the hour of sunset, then, 
 and in the shadow of the hedge old Pleasant, the 
 waggon - horse, having Clem on his back, stood 
 tethered, released from his work, contentedly crop- 
 ping the rank grass between the clusters of meadow- 
 sweet, and whisking his tail to brush off the flies. 
 The horse-flies had been pestilent all day, and Myra 
 was weaving a frontlet of green hazel twigs to slip 
 under Pleasant's headstall, when she happened to 
 turn and caught sight of her grandmother standing 
 by the upper gate, leaning on her ivory-headed staff, 
 and shading her eyes against the level sun. No one 
 ever knew how the old lady had found strength to 
 walk the distance from the house — for walked it she 
 had. It may have been that some sudden fright 
 impelled her ; some unreasoning panic for the chil- 
 dren's safety. Old Rosewarne, seated on horseback 
 and watching the rickmakers in the far corner, 
 caught sight of her, cantered across to the gate, dis- 
 mounted there, and led her home on his arm ; and 
 the children had followed. So far as Myra could 
 remember, nothing came of this apparition — nothing 
 except that she found herself, a little later, seated in 
 her grandmother's dressing-room and reading aloud ; 
 and this must have happened soon after they reached 
 home, for while she read she heard the fowls settling 
 themselves to roost in the hen-house beneath the
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 155 
 
 open window. Three weeks later Mrs. Rosewarne 
 was dead — had faded out like a shadow ; and since 
 then the children had run wild, no one constraining 
 them to tasks. 
 
 She sat with eyes fixed sullenly on Hester, and 
 fingers ready at any moment to make the sign of the 
 cross. To the other children she paid no heed ; they 
 were merely so many victims entrapped, ready to be 
 changed into birds and put into cages, as in Jorinda 
 and Jorindel. " Why was this woman separating the 
 girls from the boys ? She should not take away 
 Clem. Let her try ! " Hester had too much tact. 
 Having marshalled the others, she set a pen and 
 copy-book before Myra, and bending over Clem, 
 asked him in the gentlest voice to sit and wait ; she 
 would come back to him in a moment (she pro- 
 mised) and with a pretty game for him to play. 
 
 " Don't you listen to a single word she says," 
 Myra whispered ; but Clem had already taken his 
 seat. 
 
 Hester had sent for a book of letters in raised type 
 for the blind boy. Before setting him down to this, 
 however, she wished to try the suppleness and ac- 
 curacy of his touch with some simple reed-plaiting. 
 
 The reeds lay within the cupboard across the room. 
 She went to fetch them, and at this moment the 
 schoolroom door opened behind her. 
 
 She heard the lift of the latch, and turned with a 
 smile. Hut the smile faded almost at once as she 
 recognised her visitor. It was Tom Trevarthen, and 
 he entered with a grin and a defiant, jaunty swagger 
 which did not at all become him.
 
 156 SHINING FERRY 
 
 In an instant she scented danger, and felt her 
 cheeks paling ; but she lifted her head none the less, 
 looking him straight in the eyes. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Are you in search of some- 
 one ? " 
 
 " Seems I'm too late for the speechifying," said the 
 young sailor, avoiding her gaze, and winking at two 
 or three elder boys on the back benches. " Well, 
 never mind ; must do a little speechifyin' of my own, 
 I suppose. By your leave, miss," he added, seating 
 himself on the end of a form and fanning himself 
 with his seaman's cap, which he had duly doffed on 
 entering. 
 
 " I think," said Hester quietly, and prayed that he 
 might not hear the tremble in her voice, " I think you 
 have come on purpose to annoy, and that you do not 
 like the business." 
 
 " It's this way, miss. I've no grudge at all against 
 you, except to wonder how such a gentle-spoken 
 young lady can have the heart to come here ruinin' 
 an old 'ooman that never done you a ha'p'orth of 
 harm in her life." He was looking at her firmly now, 
 with a rising colour in his tan cheeks, and Hester's 
 heart sank as she noted his growing confidence. 
 " But I've told 'ee that a'ready," he said, and turned 
 to the boys again. " What I wonder at more is 
 you, Billy Sweet — an' you, Dave Polseath — an' you, 
 Rekkub Johns — that'll be growin' up for men in a 
 year or two. Seems to me there's some spirit gone 
 out o' this here parish since I used to be larrupped 
 for minchin'. Seems to me a passel o' boys in my 
 day would have had summat to say afore they sat
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 157 
 
 here quiet, helpin' to steal the bread out of an old 
 'ooman's mouth, an' runnin' to heel for a furriner." 
 
 The boys glanced at one another and grinned, 
 then at the intruder, lastly at Hester. Her look held 
 them, and some habit of discipline learnt from the 
 old woman they were being invited to champion. 
 One or two began shuffling in their seats. 
 
 But it was Myra who led the rebellion. She 
 stepped to Tom's side at once, and cried she, point- 
 ing a finger at Hester, " She's a witch ! Look at her 
 — she's a witch ! I know now why Aunt Hannah 
 called it a burning shame. She's robbing Mother 
 Butson, and she's a witch and ought to be burnt. 
 Come along, Clem ! " 
 
 Hester, turning from the child between pain and 
 disgust, intent only on holding the bigger boys in 
 check while she could, did not note that Clem made 
 no movement to obey his sister. 
 
 " Well done, Miss Myra ! — though you needn't 
 talk vindictive. There's no need to harm her. Now 
 look here, boys ! Mother Butson gives you a holiday, 
 and sent me up with the message. What do 'ee say 
 to it ? " 
 
 "Stop!" Hester lifted a hand against the now 
 certain mutiny. " Your name is Trevarthcn, 1 
 believe? " 
 
 " Tom Trevarthcn, miss." 
 
 ' Then, Tom Trevarthcn, you are a poor coward. 
 Now do your worst and go your way. You have 
 heard the truth." 
 
 "'Tidn' best a man said that to me," answered 
 Tom, with a lowering brow.
 
 158 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " A man ? " she replied, with a short laugh of 
 contempt which in her own ears sounded like a 
 sob. " There were men here just now ; but you 
 waited till they were gone ! " 
 
 "No, miss; I did not, you'll excuse me. I only 
 knew the school was to open to-day. I came ashore 
 half an hour ago, and walked up here across the 
 fields." He stood for a second or two meditatively 
 twisting his round cap between his hands. " We'll 
 play fair, though," he said, and faced round on the 
 benches. " Sorry to disappoint 'ee, boys, but you 
 must do without your holiday, after all. This here 
 is a man's job, as Miss Marvin says, and 'tis for men 
 to settle it. Only " — he turned upon Hester again — 
 " you must name your man quick. My ship sails 
 early in the week ; let alone that there's cruel wrong 
 being done, and the sooner 'tis righted the better." 
 
 Hester's hand went up to her throat. Was this 
 extraordinary youth actually proposing a wager of 
 battle ? His eyes rested on hers seriously ; his de- 
 meanour had become entirely courteous. 
 
 " Ah," she gasped, " but cannot you see that the 
 mischief is done ! You behave shamefully, and now 
 you talk childishly. You have made these children 
 disloyal, and what hold can I have on them except 
 through their loyalty ? You have thrown me back at 
 the start — I cannot bear to think how far — and you 
 talk as if some foolish violence could mend this for 
 me ! Please — please go away ! I have no patience 
 to argue with you." 
 
 " Yes, go away ! " broke in a shrill treble voice. 
 It was Clem's. The child had risen from his bench
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 159 
 
 and stood up, gripping the desk in front and 
 trembling. 
 
 " Clem dear, you don't understand " — began Myra. 
 
 " Yes, I do understand ! " For the first time in his 
 life his will clashed with hers. " Tom Trevarthen is 
 wrong, and ought to go away." 
 
 " She's a nasty, deceitful witch ! " 
 
 " She's not a witch ! " The child's eyes turned 
 towards Hester, as if seeking to behold her and be 
 assured. " You're not a witch, are you ? " he asked ; 
 and at the question Hester's tears, so long held back, 
 brimmed over. 
 
 Before she could answer him the door opened, and 
 Mr. Sam stood in the entry with Mrs. Purchase close 
 behind his shoulder, in a sky-blue and orange bonnet. 
 
 " Eh ? Hullo ! what's all this ? " demanded Mr. 
 Sam, staring around the schoolroom ; and Mrs. Pur- 
 chase, bustling in and mopping her face, paused too 
 to stare. 
 
 For a moment no one spoke. Mr. Sam's eyes 
 passed over Tom Trevarthen in slow, indignant 
 wonder, and rested on Hester's flushed cheeks and 
 tear-reddened lids. 
 
 " Why, whatever on earth is Tom Trevarthen doin' 
 here?" cried Mrs. Purchase. 
 
 " I've a-come here, ma'am," spoke up Tom, kindling, 
 " to say a word against a cruel shame ; for shame it 
 is, to take the food away from a poor old 'ooman's 
 mouth !" 
 
 " Meanin' Mother Butson?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " An' your way to set things right is to come here
 
 160 SHINING FERRY 
 
 and browbeat a poor girl before the children till her 
 eyes be pink as garden daisies ! Go'st 'way home, 
 thou sorry fool ! I'm ashamed of 'ee ! " 
 
 " As for that, ma'am, I did wrong," Tom admitted 
 sullenly, " and I beg her pardon for't. But it don't 
 alter the hurt to Mother Butson." 
 
 " You're mistaken, my friend," broke in Mr. Sam, 
 in his rasping voice. " To be sure you haven't closed 
 Mother Butson's school for her, because 'tis closed 
 already. Twopence a week is the lowest she could 
 ever charge, to earn a living, and I leave to judge 
 how many sensible folks will be paying twopence a 
 week for her ignorance when they can get sound 
 teaching up here for a penny. But a worse thing 
 you've done for her. She lodges with your mother, I 
 believe ? Very well ; you can go home and tell your 
 mother to get rid of her lodger. Eh, what are you 
 staring at ? " 
 
 The young man had fallen back, and stared from 
 face to face, incredulous. There was a bewildered 
 horror in his eyes, and it cut Hester to the heart. 
 Her own eyes sank as he challenged them. 
 
 " No, Sam — no ! " Mrs. Purchase interposed. "Don't 
 'ee go to punish the lad that way. He've made a 
 mistake ; but he's a well-meanin' lad for all, and I'll 
 wage he'll tell you he's sorry." 
 
 " Well-meaning, is it, to come here bullying a 
 young lady? Sorry, is he? I promise he'll be 
 sorrier before I've done. Answer me, sir. Did Mrs. 
 Butson know of your visit here to-day ? " 
 
 " I told her I was coming," Tom answered dully. 
 
 " That settles it. Heaven is my witness," said Mr.
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 161 
 
 Sam, with sudden unction, " I was willing to let the 
 old woman wind up her affairs in peace. But mutiny 
 I don't stand, nor molesting. You go home, sir, to 
 your mother, and tell her my words. I give her till 
 Saturday" — 
 
 The words ended in a squeal as Tom, with a sharp 
 intake of breath like a sob, sprang and gripped him 
 by the throat, bearing him back and overturning 
 Hester's desk with a crash. One or two of the girls 
 began to scream. The boys scrambled on top of 
 their forms, craning, round-eyed with excitement. 
 The little ones stood up with white faces, shrinking 
 with terror, as Hester ran and placed herself between 
 them and the struggle. 
 
 " You cur ! You miserable — dirty — cur ! " panted 
 Tom, shaking Mr. Sam to and fro. " Leave me 
 alone, missus!" — for Mrs. Purchase was attempting 
 to clutch him by the collar. " Leave me deal with 
 him, I tell you ! Stand clear, there ! " 
 
 With a sharp thrust he loosened his hold, and Mr. 
 Sam went flying backwards, missed his footing, and 
 fell, his head striking the corner of a form with a 
 thud. 
 
 " Get up ! Up on your legs, and have it out like a 
 man!" 
 
 But Mr. Sam lay where he had fallen in a heap, 
 with the blood oozing from an ugly cut across the left 
 temple 
 
 " Get up? " vociferated Mrs. Purchase. " Lucky for 
 you if he up I You've gone nigh to killing 
 
 'en, mean it or no. Out of my sight, you hot-headed 
 young fool ! Be off to the ship, pack up your kit, and 
 
 T I
 
 162 SHINING FERRY 
 
 run. Tis a jailin' matter, this ; and now you've done 
 for yourself as well as your mother." 
 
 For a moment the young man stared at her, not 
 seeming to comprehend. " Eh, missus ? " he muttered. 
 " Be you agen' me too ? " 
 
 Mrs. Purchase positively laughed, and a weird 
 cackling sound it made in Hester's ears as she bent 
 to support one of the smaller girls, who had fainted. 
 " Agen' you ? Take an' look around on your mornin's 
 work ! You've struck down my brother's son, Tom 
 Trevarthen — isn't that enough? Go an' pack your 
 kit ; I'll have no jail-birds aboard my ship." 
 
 He turned and went. On the way his foot en- 
 countered Mr. Sam's tall silk hat, and he kicked it 
 viciously through the doorway before him. 
 
 " Tom ! " 
 
 Until the call had been repeated twice behind him 
 Tom Trevarthen did not hear. When, after a stupid 
 stare at his hands (as though there had been blood on 
 his knuckles), he turned to the voice, he saw Myra 
 speeding bareheaded to overtake him. She beckoned 
 him to stop. 
 
 " What will you do, Tom ? " she panted, as he 
 waited for her to come up. 
 
 "Me, missy? Well, I hadn't given it a thought; 
 but now you mention it, I s'pose I'd better cut. 'Tis 
 a police job, most like, as your aunt said. But never 
 you mind for me." 
 
 The name of the police sounded terribly in Myra's 
 ears. 
 
 " The Good Intent will be sailing to-night ; I heard
 
 TOM TREVARTHEN INTERVENES 163 
 
 Peter Benny say so," she suggested ; " and the Mary 
 Rowett to-morrow, if the weather holds." 
 
 Tom Trevarthen nodded. " That's so, missy. Old 
 man Hancock of the Good Intent wants a hand, to 
 my knowledge. I'll try 'en, or else walk to Falmouth. 
 Don't you fret for me," he repeated. 
 
 They had reached the gate of Hall, over which 
 a gigantic chestnut spread its branches. As Myra 
 faced Tom Trevarthen a laugh sounded overhead ; 
 and, looking up, she saw Master Calvin's legs and 
 elastic-sided boots depending from a green bough. 
 
 " Hullo, Myra ! " Master Calvin called down. 
 " How d'you get on up at the Board School ? " 
 
 "He don't go to Board School," said Tom Tre- 
 varthen, jerking his thumb up towards the bough. 
 " In training to be a gentleman, he is ; not like Master 
 Clem. Well, good-bye, missy ! " 
 
 Myra watched him down the road, and, as he dis- 
 appeared at the bend, flung a glance up at the chest- 
 nut tree. 
 
 " Come down," she commanded, in no loud voice, 
 but firmly. 
 
 " Shan't." 
 
 " What are you doing up there ? " She sniffed the 
 air, her sense of smell alive to a strange scent in it. 
 " You nasty, horrid boy, you're smoking ! " 
 
 " I'm not," answered Master Calvin untruthfully, 
 concealing a pipe. " I'm up here pretending to be 
 Zacchatus." 
 
 Myra without more ado pushed open the gate and 
 went up the path to the house. In less than two 
 minutes she was back again.
 
 1G4 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Come down." 
 " Shan't." 
 
 "Very well. I'm going to Zacchaeus you." 
 " What's that in your hand ? " 
 
 " It's grandfather's powder-flask ; and I've a box of 
 matches, too."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS 
 
 HESTER'S cupboard contained a small case of 
 plasters, lint, ointments, etc., for childish cuts 
 and bruises. She despatched a couple of 
 boys to the playground pump to fetch water, and then 
 glanced at Mrs. Purchase interrogatively. 
 
 " Better send for a doctor, I suppose ? " said Mrs. 
 Purchase. 
 
 " I think, if we bathe the wound, we can tell better 
 what's necessary. Will you — ? " 
 
 " I reckon the job's more in your line. You've 
 the look o' one able to nurse — yes, and you've the 
 trick of it, I see," Mrs. Purchase went on, as Hester 
 knelt, lifted the sufferer's head, and motioned to the 
 boys to set down their basin of water beside her. 
 " I'll clear the children out to the playground and 
 keep 'cm quiet. Call, if you want anything; I'll be 
 close outside." The good lady shepherded them 
 forth with brisk authority; not for nothing had she 
 commanded a ship these thirty years. " But, Lord !" 
 she muttered, " to think of me playing schoolmistress ! 
 What'll I do, I wonder, if these varmints of boys 
 bn ak ship and run home?" 
 
 She might have spared herself this anxiety. The 
 
 105
 
 166 SHINING FERRY 
 
 children were all agog to see the drama out. Would 
 Mr. Samuel recover? And, if not, what would be 
 done to Tom Trevarthen ? They discussed this in 
 eager groups. If any of them had an impulse to run 
 downhill and cry the news through the village, Mrs. 
 Purchase's determined slamming and bolting of the 
 playground gate restrained it — that, and perhaps a 
 thought that by running with the news they would 
 start the hue-and-cry after Tom. 
 
 Hester, having sponged away the blood, found that 
 the cut on Mr. Sam's temple was nothing to need a 
 doctor, but could be set right by cleansing and a few 
 strips of plaster. Doubtless the fall had stunned him, 
 and doubtless he must be in some pain. Yet when 
 at length he groaned and opened his eyes she could 
 not repress a suspicion (although she hated herself 
 for it) that in some degree he had been shamming. 
 
 " Do not move, please," she commanded gently, 
 snipping at the plaster with her scissors. " A couple 
 of strips more, then a bandage, and you will soon be 
 feeling better." 
 
 His eyes rolled and fixed themselves on her. " A 
 ministering angel," he muttered. She caught the 
 words, and turned her head aside with a flush of 
 annoyance. 
 
 " You have an ugly bruise," she told him sharply. 
 " I am going to put a cool compress on it. You had 
 better close your eyes, or some of the water will be 
 trickling into them." 
 
 He closed them obediently, but asked, " He has 
 gone? " 
 
 "Yes."
 
 MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS 167 
 
 " Then you are safe at least,*thank God ! " 
 
 Yes, he had taken his hurt in protecting her ; and 
 yet something in his tone caused her to glance, and 
 as if for protection, to the doorway. 
 
 " You are comely," he went on slowly, opening his 
 eyes again, and again rolling that embarrassing gaze 
 upon her. "Your fingers, too, have the gift of 
 healing." 
 
 She could not tell him with what repugnance she 
 brought them to touch him. Having fastened the 
 bandage firmly, she turned again to the doorway to 
 summon Mrs. Purchase, but checked herself. 
 
 " I want to ask you a favour," she began in a 
 hesitating voice. 
 
 " You may ask it confidently." 
 
 " I want you to forgive — no, not forgive ; that is 
 the wrong word — to be generous, and not to punish." 
 
 Mr. Samuel blinked. "Let him off?" he asked. 
 " Why ? What's your motive ? " 
 
 " I don't know that there's any motive." She met 
 his eyes frankly enough, but with a musing air as if 
 considering a new suggestion. " No ; it's just a wish, 
 no more. An hour ago it seemed to me that every- 
 one was eager and happy ; that there would always 
 be pleasure in looking back upon our opening day." 
 Her voice trembled a little. " Now this has happened, 
 to spoil all ; and yet something may be saved if we 
 bear no malice, but take up the work again, and show 
 that we waste no time or thought on punishment, 
 being determined only to win." 
 
 "You are asking a great deal of me," he answered. 
 Nevertheless he had instantly resolved to grant her
 
 168 SHINING FERRY 
 
 wish, and for many reasons. " I suppose you know 
 the matter is serious enough for a warrant? Still, if 
 I shall oblige you by declining to prosecute" — 
 
 " But please don't put it in that way ! " she in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 " I really don't see how else to put it." He paused, 
 as if requiring her to suggest a better. " The point 
 is, you want me to let the fellow off— eh ? Well then, 
 I will." 
 
 " Thank you," said Hester, with a sigh. 
 
 Mr. Sam smiled. After being shaken like a rat, a 
 man needs to retrieve his self-respect, and he was 
 retrieving his famously. He could see himself in a 
 magnanimous light : he had laid the girl under an 
 obligation ; he had avoided public action which would, 
 to be sure, have given him revenge, but at much cost 
 of dignity ; and, for the rest, he had still plenty of 
 ways to get even with Master Tom Trevarthen. 
 
 Hester had a mind to tell him that he misconstrued 
 her ; that merely to abstain from pursuing the lad 
 with warrant or summons neither fulfilled her request 
 nor touched the kernel of it. But while she cast 
 about for words Mrs. Purchase thrust a cheerful head 
 in at the doorway. 
 
 " Hullo, that's famous ! " she exclaimed at sight of 
 the bandaging. " You're a clever woman, my dear ; 
 and now I'll ask you to bring your cleverness outside 
 here and take these children off my hands. W'st, 
 you little numskulls!" — she turned and addressed 
 them — " keep quiet, I say, with your mountains out 
 of molehills ! There's no one killed nor hurt ; only ■ 
 a foolish lad lost his temper, and he'll smart for it,
 
 MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS 169 
 
 and I hope it'll be a warning to you." She poked her 
 head in through the doorway again. "Come along, 
 Sam, and show yourself. And as for you, my dear," 
 she went on hurriedly, lowering her voice, " better get 
 'em back to their work as if nought had happened. 
 I'll bide a while with you till you have 'em in hand 
 again." 
 
 " Thank you," said Hester ; " but that wouldn't help 
 me in the long-run. I must manage them alone." 
 
 " You mean that ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I thank you none the less." 
 
 "And you're right. You're a plucky woman." 
 She turned to Mr. Sam briskly. " Well, take my arm 
 and put on as light a face as you can. Here's your 
 hat — I've smoothed out the worst of the dents. Eh? 
 Bain't goin' to make a speech, surely !" 
 
 Mr. Sam, leaning slightly on his aunt's arm, pulled 
 himself up on the threshold and surveyed the children's 
 wondering faces. 
 
 " Boys and girls," he said, " our opening day has 
 been spoilt by a scene on which I won't dwell, 
 because I desire you not to dwell on it. If you treat 
 it lightly, as I intend to do, bearing no malice, wc 
 shall show the world all the more clearly that we are 
 in earnest about things which really matter." 
 
 He cleared his throat and looked around with a 
 challenging smile at Hester, who watched him, 
 wondering to hear her own words so cleverly re- 
 peated. 
 
 " Wc wish," he proceeded, " to remember our open- 
 in;; day as a pleasant one. Miss Marvin especially 
 wishes to look back on it with pleasure; and I think
 
 170 SHINING FERRY 
 
 we all ought to help her. Now if I say no more 
 about this foolish young man — whom I could punish 
 very severely — will you promise me to go back to 
 your books ? To-day, as you know, is a half-holiday ; 
 but there remains an hour for work before you dis- 
 perse. I want your word that you will employ it 
 well, and honestly try to do all that Miss Marvin 
 tells you." 
 
 He paused again, and chose to take a slight 
 murmur among the children for their assent. 
 
 " I thank you. There is an old saying that he who 
 conquers himself performs a greater feat than he who 
 takes a city. Some of us, Miss Marvin, may hereafter 
 associate the lesson with this our opening day." 
 
 He seemed to await some reply to this ; but Hester 
 could not speak, even to thank him. Her spirit re- 
 coiled from him ; she could not reconcile egoism so 
 inordinate with such cleverness in turning it to 
 account. She watched him with a certain fascina- 
 tion, as one watches some trained monster in a show 
 displaying its deformity for public applause. He 
 shook hands with her and made his exit, not without 
 dignity, leaning on Mrs. Purchase's arm and turning 
 at the playground gate to wave farewell. 
 
 It is doubtful if the children understood his speech. 
 But they were awed. At the word of command they 
 trooped into school, settled themselves at their desks, 
 and took up their interrupted lessons with a docility 
 at which Hester wondered, since for the moment she 
 herself had lost all power to interest or amuse them. 
 
 For her that was a dreadful hour. A couple of 
 humble-bees zoomed against the window pane, and
 
 MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS 171 
 
 the sound, with the ticking of the schoolroom clock, 
 took possession of her brain. Z-zoom ! Tick-tack, 
 tick-tack ! Would lesson-time never come to an 
 end ? She went about automatically correcting sums, 
 copies, exercises, because the sight of the pencilled 
 words or figures steadied her faculties, whereas she 
 felt that if she called the children up in class her wits 
 would wander and all answers come alike to her, 
 right or wrong. Her will, too, had fallen into a 
 strange drowsiness. She wanted the window open, 
 to get rid of the humble-bees ; a word to one of the 
 elder boys and it would be done. Yet the minutes 
 passed and the word remained unspoken. So a sick 
 man will lie and debate with himself so small a thing 
 as the lifting of a hand. 
 
 At length the clock hands pointed to five minutes to 
 noon. She ordered books to be shut and slates to be 
 put away ; and going to the harmonium, gave out the 
 hymn, " Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing." The 
 Managers had agreed upon this hymn ; the Noncon- 
 formist majority insisting, however, that the conclud- 
 ing " Amen " should be omitted. Omitted accord- 
 ingly it was on the slips of paper printed for school 
 use. 
 
 " Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing, 
 Thanks for mercies past receive ; 
 Pardon all their faults confessing; 
 Tim'- that's lost may all retrieve ; 
 
 May Thy children 
 Ne'er again Thy Spirit grieve." 
 
 The children, released from the dull strain of watch- 
 ing the clock, sang with spirit. Hester played on, 
 inattentive to the words. At the end, without con-
 
 172 SHINING FERRY 
 
 sidering what she did, she pressed down the chords of 
 the " Amen," and the singers joined in, all unaware of 
 transgressing. 
 
 In the silence that followed she suddenly remem- 
 bered her instructions to omit the word, and sat for a 
 moment flushed and confused. But the deed was 
 done. The children stood shuffling their feet, await- 
 ing the signal of dismissal. 
 
 " You may go," she said. " We will do better to- 
 morrow." 
 
 When their voices had died away down the road 
 she closed the harmonium softly, and fell to walking 
 to and fro, musing, tidying up the schoolroom by fits 
 and starts. She wanted to sit down and have a good 
 cry ; but always as the tears came near to flowing she 
 fell to work afresh and checked them. Not until the 
 room looked neat again did she remember that she 
 was hungiy. Nuncey had cooked a pasty for her, 
 and she fetched it from the cupboard, where it lay 
 in a basket covered by a spotless white cloth. As 
 she did so, her eyes fell on a damp spot on the floor 
 where, after bandaging Mr. Sam, she had carefully 
 washed out the stain of his blood. 
 
 She looked at her hands. They were clean ; and 
 yet, having set down the basket on the desk and 
 turned her stool so that she might not see the spot 
 on the floor, she continued to stare at them, and from 
 them to the white cloth. A while she stood thus, 
 irresolute, still listening to the bees zooming against 
 the pane. Then with a sudden effort of will she 
 walked out and across the yard, to the pump in the 
 far corner.
 
 MR. SAM IS MAGNANIMOUS 173 
 
 She was stooping to raise the pump handle, but 
 straightened herself up again at the sound — as it 
 seemed to her — of a muffled sob. 
 
 She looked behind her and around. The play- 
 ground was empty, the air across its gravelled surface 
 quivering under the noonday heat. She listened. 
 
 Two long minutes passed before the sound was 
 repeated ; and this time she knew it for the sob of a 
 child. It came from behind an angle of the building 
 which hid a strip of the playground from view. She 
 ran thither at once, and as she turned the corner her 
 eyes fell on little Clem. 
 
 She had missed him from his place when the 
 children returned to the schoolroom. His sister, she 
 supposed, had taken him home. 
 
 He stood sentry now in the shade under the north 
 wall of the building. He stood there so resolutely 
 that, for the instant, Hester could scarcely believe the 
 sobs had come from him. But he had heard her 
 coming ; and the face he turned to her, though tear- 
 less, was woefully twisted and twitching. 
 
 " My poor child ! " 
 
 He stretched out both hands. 
 
 " Where is Myra? I want Myra, please !"
 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 
 
 YRA was in her bedroom, under lock and 
 key ; and this is how it had happened. 
 
 " What put it into your head to make that 
 speech ? " asked Mrs. Purchase, as she and Mr. Sam 
 wended their way back to Hall. In form the ques- 
 tion was addressed to her nephew; in tone, to 
 herself. 
 
 Mr. Sam paused as if for breath, and plucking 
 down a wisp of honeysuckle from the hedgerow, 
 sniffed at it to gain time. 
 
 " I don't like talking about such things," he 
 answered ; " but it came into my head to do my 
 Master's bidding : ' Bless them that curse you, do 
 good to them that hate you, and pray for them that 
 despitefully use you.' " 
 
 " Fiddlestick-end ! " said Mrs. Purchase. 
 
 " I assure you" — 
 
 " If you don't mean to get upsides with Tom Tre- 
 varthen, I'm a Dutchman. ' Forgive your enemies,' 
 may be gospel teaching, but I never knew a Rose- 
 warne to practise it. You're a clever fellow, nephew 
 Sam, and that speech saved your face, as the 
 Yankees say ; but somehow I've a notion its clever- 
 
 174
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 175 
 
 ness didn't end there. I saw the schoolmistress 
 watching you — did she put you up to it ? " 
 
 " I don't mind telling you that she had interceded 
 with me." 
 
 " I like the cut of that girl's jib," Mrs. Purchase 
 announced after a pause. " She's good-looking, and 
 she has pluck. But I don't take back what I said, 
 that it's a wrong you're doing to Clem and Myra, 
 putting them to school with all the riff-raff of the 
 parish." 
 
 " That's the kind of objection one learns to expect 
 from a Radical," her nephew answered drily. 
 
 " Tis a queer thing, now," she mused, " that ever 
 since I married 'Siah the family will have me to be 
 a Radical ; and 'tis the queerer, because ne'er one of 
 'ee knows what a Radical is or ought to be. S'pose 
 I do hold that all mankind and all womankind has 
 equal rights under the Lord — that don't mean they're 
 all alike, do it? or that I can't tell a man from a 
 woman, or my lord from a scavenger ? D'ee reckon 
 that we'm all-fellows-to-football aboard the Virtuous 
 Lady, and the fo'c'sle hands mess aft ? " 
 
 " They would if you were consistent," answered Mr. 
 Sam, with positiveness. 
 
 She sighed impatiently. "There's times you make 
 mc long to wring your stiff neck. But I'll take your 
 own consistency, as you call it. I don't notice you 
 send that precious boy o' yourn to the Board School ; 
 and yet if 'tis good enough for Clem and Myra, 'tis 
 good enough for any Rosewarnr." 
 
 " Calvin has received a superior education. Yet I 
 don't mind telling you that, if 1 find Miss Marvin
 
 17G SHINING FERRY 
 
 competent, I propose asking her to teach him 
 privately." 
 
 " O — oh ! " Mrs. Purchase pursed up her lips and 
 eyed him askance. "Such a nice-looking girl, too!" 
 
 Mr. Sam flushed beneath his sallow skin. He was 
 about to command her angrily to mind her own 
 business, when the air between the hedgerows, and 
 even the road beneath his feet, shook with a dull 
 and distant detonation. 
 
 " Sakes alive ! " cried Mrs. Purchase. " Don't tell 
 me that's the powder-ship, up the river ! " 
 
 "It didn't come up from the river — it came from 
 Hall ! " He gripped her arm with sudden excite- 
 ment; then, as she began to protest, "Don't talk, 
 woman, but help me along ! It came from Hall, I 
 tell you!" 
 
 Master Calvin defied Myra bravely enough while 
 she threatened, and even while she piled a little heap 
 of gunpowder under the sycamore and ostentatiously 
 sprinkled a train of it across the roadway. He 
 supposed that she intended only to frighten him. 
 
 Nor would any mischief have happened had he 
 kept his perch. The heap of gunpowder was too 
 small to do serious damage — though he may well be 
 excused for misdoubting this. But when Myra struck 
 a match and challenged him for the last time, he 
 called to her not to play the fool, and began to 
 scramble down for dear life. In truth, for two or 
 three minutes he had been feeling strangely giddy, 
 and to make matters worse, was suddenly conscious 
 of a horrible burning pain in his side.
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 177 
 
 So intolerable was the pain, that he clutched at it 
 with one hand ; and missing his hold with the other, 
 slipped and hung dangling over the powder, supported 
 only by the bough under the crook of his armpit. 
 At that instant, while he struggled to recover his 
 balance, Myra was horrified to see smoke curling 
 about his jacket ; a fiery shred of tobacco and jacket- 
 lining dropped from his plucking fingers. She had 
 flung away her match and was running forward — the 
 burning stuff fell so slowly, there was almost time 
 to catch it — when the ground at her feet leapt up 
 with a flame and a bang, and Master Calvin thudded 
 down upon the explosion. 
 
 She ran to him. He was not dead, for at once he 
 began screaming at the pitch of his voice ; but his 
 features were black, his smallclothes torn, and his 
 legs writhed in a terrifying way. His screams sank 
 to groans as she beat out the smouldering fire in his 
 jacket-lining ; and for a while she could get no other 
 answer from him. 
 
 By and by she lost patience, and shook him by the 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Oh, get up for goodness' sake ! I believe you're 
 more frightened than hurt ; but if you're really hurt, 
 sit up and tell me what's the matter." 
 
 " Let me alone," groaned Calvin. " I want to die." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks — ' want to die ' ! Come along to the 
 pump and wash yourself." 
 
 " You're a wicked girl ! You tried to kill me I " 
 
 " I didn't. 1 wanted to frighten you, and — and I'm 
 sorry; but you fired the powder yourself with your 
 nasty pipe, and you've burnt a hole in your pocket. 
 
 12
 
 178 SHINING FERRY 
 
 You'd best come along and get washed and changed 
 before your father catches you. It looks to me 
 you've lost one of your eyebrows, but the other one's 
 so pale I daresay 'tvvon't be noticed. Or I might 
 give you a pair with a piece of burnt cork." 
 
 It was while she stood considering this that Mr. 
 Sam and her aunt made their appearance round the 
 corner of the road. 
 
 " Whatever in the round world have you children 
 been doin' ? " panted Mrs. Purchase, and wound up 
 with a gasp at sight of Calvin's face. 
 
 " I believe I'm going to die ! " The boy began to 
 writhe again. 
 
 " What has happened ? " his father demanded, with 
 a shake in the voice, stooping to lift him. 
 
 " She — she tried to kill me ! " Calvin pointed at 
 her with vindictive finger, and at once clasped both 
 hands over his stomach. 
 
 " I did not," retorted Myra. 
 
 " Ask her who brought the powder and laid a train 
 right under me ! Ask her what she's doing with 
 that box of matches ! " 
 
 " Is that true ? " Mr. Sam demanded again, 
 straightening himself up and fixing a terrible stare 
 on Myra. 
 
 The girl's face hardened. " Yes, I brought the pow- 
 der." She pointed to the flask lying in the roadway. 
 
 " You dare to tell me that you did this deliber- 
 ately ? " 
 
 "I never did it at all." 
 
 " Yes, she did ! " almost screamed the boy. " She 
 put the powder here ; she owns up to it."
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 179 
 
 Myra shrugged her shoulders and turned away. 
 " Very well ; he's telling a nasty fib, but you can 
 believe him if you like." 
 
 " Stop a minute, miss." Mr. Sam strode across to 
 her. " You don't get off in that fashion, I promise 
 you ! " 
 
 She looked up at him sidewise, under lowered 
 brows. " Are you going to beat me ? " she asked 
 quietly. 
 
 The question took Mr. Sam aback. " You deserve 
 a whipping if ever a girl did," he answered, after a 
 second or two. " First, it seems, you almost succeed 
 in killing your cousin, and then you tell a falsehood 
 about it." 
 
 " I have told you the truth. I put the powder there. 
 As for meaning to kill him, that's nonsense, and he 
 knows it. I didn't even mean to hurt him, though 
 he deserves it." 
 
 " Deserves it ! " echoed Mr. Sam. 
 
 "Yes, for robbing Clem." 
 
 "Sam — Sam!" Mrs. Purchase thrust herself 
 between them. "What's the matter? Don't go for 
 to hurt the child ! " 
 
 "What — what does she mean, then?" lie had 
 stretched out a hand to grip Myra by the shoulder, 
 but fell back with a yellow face. 
 
 " Tom Trevarthen told me." Myra pointed from 
 father to son. " He says you're no better than a 
 pair of robbers." 
 
 "Myra," said her aunt quietly, "go to your room 
 at once. On your own confession you have done 
 wickedly, and must be punished."
 
 180 SHINING FERRY 
 
 "Very well, Aunt Hannah." 
 
 " I must attend to Calvin first ; but I will come to 
 you by and by. Until then you are not to leave 
 your room. Do you understand ? " 
 
 "Yes, Aunt Hannah." 
 
 She turned and walked towards the house. 
 
 " And now," said Mrs. Purchase, after a glance at 
 Mr. Sam's face, " let's see what bones are broken." 
 She bent over Calvin, but looked up almost im- 
 mediately, as Mr. Sam uttered a sharp exclamation. 
 
 " What's this ? " he asked, stooping to pick up a 
 briar pipe. 
 
 Master Calvin blinked, and turned his head aside 
 from Mrs. Purchase's curious gaze. 
 
 " I think it belongs to Tom Trevarthen," he 
 mumbled. 
 
 " How on the airth did Tom Trevarthen come to 
 drop a pipe here, and walk off 'ithout troubling to 
 pick it up ? If 'twas a hairpin, now," said Mrs. Pur- 
 chase, not very lucidly, "one could understand it." 
 
 " I — I'm going to be ill," wailed the wretched 
 Calvin, with a spasmodic heave of the shoulders. 
 
 " Well," his aunt commented grimly after a 
 moment, " you told the truth that time, anyway." 
 
 Having conveyed him to the house and put him, 
 with Susannah's help, to bed, Aunt Hannah went 
 off to Myra's room, but descended after a kw 
 minutes in search of Mr. Sam, whom she found 
 pacing the garden walk. 
 
 " Well ? " he asked. 
 
 " I've told her the punishment — bread and water,
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 181 
 
 and to keep her room all da)'. She says nothing 
 against it, and I think she's sorry about the powder ; 
 but I can get no sense into her until her mind's set 
 at rest about Clem." 
 
 " What about him ? " 
 
 " Why, the poor child's left behind at the school." 
 
 " Is that all ? Miss Marvin will bring him home, 
 no doubt." 
 
 " So I told her. But it seems she don't trust Miss 
 Marvin — hates her, in fact." 
 
 " The child must be crazed." 
 
 " Couldn't you send Peter Benny ? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, if you wish it." Mr. Sam went 
 indoors to the counting-house, where Mr. Benny 
 jumped up from his desk in alarm at sight of 
 the bandages. 
 
 " Mercy on us, sir — you have met with an 
 accident ? " 
 
 "A trifle. Arc you busy just now?" 
 
 Mr. Benny blushed. " I might answer in your 
 words, sir — a trifle. Indeed, I hope, sir, you will 
 not think it a liberty; but the late Mr. Rosewarne 
 used very kindly to allow it when no business 
 happened to be doing." 
 
 His employer stared at him blankly. 
 
 "On birthdays and such occasions," pursued Mr. 
 Benny. "And by the way, sir, might I ask you to 
 favour me with the date of your birthday? Your 
 dear father's was the 28th of May." Mr. Sam's stare 
 lost its blankness, and became one of sharp suspicion. 
 What have you to do with my birthday, pray ? " 
 'Nothing, sir — nothing, unless it pleases you.
 
 182 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Some of our best and greatest men, sir, as I am well 
 aware — the late Duke of Wellington, for instance — 
 have had a distaste for poetry ; not that my verses 
 deserve any such name." 
 
 " Oh !" said Mr. Sam, his brow clearing, "you were 
 talking of verses? I've no objection, so long as you 
 don't ask me to read them." He paused, as Mr. 
 Benny's face lengthened dejectedly. " I mean no 
 reflection on yours, Benny." 
 
 " I thank you, sir." 
 
 " Shakespeare — and I am told you can't get better 
 poetry than Shakespeare's — doesn't please me at all. 
 I tried him once, on a friend's recommendation, and 
 came on a passage which I don't hesitate to call 
 lascivious. I told my friend so, and advised him to 
 be more careful in the reading he recommended. 
 He was a minister of the gospel, too. I destroyed 
 the book : one can't be too careful, with children 
 about the house." 
 
 " I assure you, sir " — 
 
 " I don't suggest for a moment that you would be 
 guilty of any such expressions as Shakespeare uses. 
 We live in a different age. Still, poetry, as such, 
 gives me no pleasure. I believe very firmly, Benny 
 — as you may have gathered — in another world, and 
 that we shall be held strictly to account there for all 
 we do or say in this one." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "If you will wait a moment, I have a note to write. 
 You will deliver it, please, to Mrs. Trevarthen on 
 your way home. But first I wish you to walk up to 
 the school and fetch Master Clem."
 
 MYRA IN DISGRACE 18 
 
 o 
 
 Mr. Benny, absorbed in poetical composition, had 
 either failed to hear the explosion at the gate, or had 
 heard and paid no heed to it. He wondered why 
 Master Clem should need to be fetched from school. 
 
 "And Miss Myra?" he suggested. 
 
 " Miss Myra has been sent to her room in dis- 
 grace," said Mr. Sam. 
 
 Mr. Benny asked no further questions, but pocketed 
 the letter which Mr. Sam indited, and fetched his 
 hat. As it happened, however, at the gate he met 
 Hester leading Clem by the hand ; and receiving the 
 child from her, handed him over to Susannah. 
 
 " You are going home ? " he asked, as he rejoined 
 Hester at the gate. They were already warm friends. 
 
 " I am on my way. And you ? " 
 
 " We'll cross the ferry together, if you'll wait a 
 moment while I deliver a note at Mrs. Trevarthen's." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen was at her door. She took the note, 
 and, before opening it, looked at Hester curiously. 
 
 " You know what's inside of it, I reckon ? " she 
 said, turning to Mr. Benny. 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 "My eyes are bad," said Mrs. Trevarthen, who, as 
 a matter of fact, could not read. 
 
 Mr. Benny knew this, and knew also that Mrs. 
 Trevarthen as a rule employed Aunt Butson to write 
 her few letters and decipher the few that came to her. 
 
 " The light's bad for the time of year," he said. 
 "Shall I read it for you, missus?" 
 
 "No; let her read it," answered the old woman, 
 holding out the letter to Hester. Hester took it and 
 read —
 
 184 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Madam, — This is to inform you that the rent of 
 my cottage, at present occupied by you on a monthly 
 tenancy at £g per annum, will from the first of next 
 month be raised to £1$ ; also that the tenancy will 
 not, after that date, carry with it a permission to let 
 lodgings. — Yours truly, S. ROSEWARNE." 
 
 In the silence that followed Mrs. Trevarthen fixed 
 her bright beady eyes steadily on Hester. " You've 
 driven forth my son from me," she said at length, 
 " and you're driving forth my lodger, and there's 
 nobbut the almshouse left. Never a day's worry has 
 my son Tom given to me, and never a ha'p'orth o' 
 harm have we done to you. A foreigner you are 
 and a stranger ; the lad made me promise not to 
 curse 'ee, and I won't. But get out of my sight, and 
 the Lord deliver us from temptation ! — Amen." 
 
 Poor Mr. Benny, who had written half a dozen 
 enthusiastic verses on the opening of the new school, 
 crushed them down in his pocket. He had been so 
 proud of them, too ! 
 
 They ran — 
 
 " This morning the weather was wreathed in smiles, 
 And we, correspondingly gay, 
 Assembled together from several miles 
 To welcome our Opening Day. 
 
 The children were plastic in body and mind, 
 
 Their faces and pinafores clean ; 
 And persons scholastic, in accents refined, 
 
 With eloquence pointed the scene. 
 
 Blest scene ! as its features we fondly recall, 
 
 O let us give thanks to the Lord ! 
 The Parents, the Teacher, the Managers all, 
 
 Including the Clerk to the Board ! "
 
 BOOK III 
 
 IS5
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 
 
 NEXT morning when Hester arrived at the 
 school she found Mr. Sam waiting for her, 
 with Myra, Clem, and a lanky, freckled youth 
 of about sixteen, whom he introduced as Archelaus 
 Libby. She could not help a smile at this odd name, 
 and the young man himself seemed to be conscious of 
 its absurdity. He blushed, held out his hand and 
 withdrew it again, dropped his hat and caught it 
 awkwardly between his knees. Myra (who had made 
 the sign of the cross as Hester entered) stood and 
 regarded him with a cold, contemptuous interest. 
 Her uncle presented the poor fellow with a pro- 
 prietary wave of the hand, as though he had been 
 a dumb animal recently purchased. 
 
 " I telegraphed to Liskeard on my own responsi- 
 bility. The Managers may take me to task ; but I 
 felt it to be imperative that you should have a male 
 teacher to support you, and at once. At all costs we 
 must prevent a repetition of such scenes as yester- 
 day's." 
 
 Doubtless he had done Hester a service, and she 
 trieel to express her thanks, but did not succeed very 
 well. To begin with, her spirit being roused, she 
 
 187
 
 188 SHINING FERRY 
 
 desired no help ; and to judge by Mr. Archelaus 
 Libby's looks, the help he could give promised to 
 be ineffective. She did not say this, of course ; and 
 he gazed at her so wistfully that she reproached her- 
 self for thinking it. 
 
 Mr. Sam had no such scruples. " I telegraphed to 
 Liskeard," he repeated. " There was no time for a 
 personal interview." (He paused, with a deprecating 
 wave of the hand, as who shall say, " And this is what 
 they sent.") "If," he continued, "you find him un- 
 equal to maintaining discipline, we — ha — must take 
 other steps. In other respects I find him satisfactory. 
 He tells me he is of the Baptist persuasion, a believer 
 in Total Immersion." 
 
 Hester saw Myra's mouth twitching. She herself 
 broke into merry laughter. 
 
 " I hope it won't be necessary to go that length," 
 she answered. " We will do our best, at any rate." 
 She held out her hand again, and Archelaus Libby 
 grasped it warmly. 
 
 On the whole, Archelaus Libby's best proved to be 
 better than she had expected. The boys made a butt 
 of him from the beginning, but could get no real 
 advantage over one who laughed with them at his 
 own discomfitures. He belonged to those meek ones 
 who (it is promised) shall inherit the earth ; and 
 indeed, as the possessor of a two-guinea microscope 
 — bought, as he explained to Hester, with his first 
 earnings — he believed himself to inherit it already. 
 This microscope, and the wonders he showed them 
 under it, earned no little respect from the children.
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 189 
 
 Also he had, without being aware of it, an extra- 
 ordinary gift of mental arithmetic, and would rattle 
 out the quotients of long compound division sums at 
 alarming speed and with a rapid clicking sound at 
 the back of his throat, as though some preternatural 
 machinery were at work there. But most of all he 
 conquered by sheer love of his kind and of every 
 living creature. The lad seemed to brim over with 
 love : he never arrived at forgiving anyone, being 
 incapable of believing that anyone meant to offend. 
 From the first he yielded to Hester a canine devo- 
 tion which was inconvenient because it rendered him 
 dumb. 
 
 Within a week Hester felt sure of herself and of 
 the school, and confided her joy to Mr. Benny, who 
 always met her at the ferry and accompanied her 
 home to tea ; for she was now installed as a lodger 
 with the Benny household, greatly to Nuncey's 
 delight. After tea Mr. Benny always withdrew to a 
 little office overhanging the tideway ; a wooden, felt- 
 roofed shed in which he earned money from 6.30 to 
 8.30 p.m. by writing letters for seamen. In this 
 interval the two girls walked or bathed, returning 
 in time to put the children to bed and help Mrs. 
 Benny with the supper. They talked much, but 
 seldom about the school — all the cares of which 
 Hester left behind her at the ferry crossing. 
 
 "And that's what I like about you," Nuncey con- 
 fided. "You don't give yourself airs like other 
 schoolmistresses." 
 
 " How many others do you know?" asked Hester. 
 
 "None; but I know what I'm talkin' about. You
 
 100 SHINING FERRY 
 
 know more about poetry and such-like than Dad ; I 
 daresay you know as much as Uncle Josh ; and yet 
 no one would think it, to look at you." 
 
 " Thank you." Hester dropped her a curtsey. 
 " And who is Uncle Josh ? " 
 
 " He's Dad's brother, and well known in London. 
 I believe he writes for the papers ; ' connected with 
 the press ' — that's how Dad puts it. When Dad 
 writes a poem he hasn't time to polish it ; so he sends 
 it up to Uncle Josh, and it comes back beautifully 
 polished by return of post. Now do you know what 
 I want?" asked Nuncey, falling back and eyeing her. 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Guess." 
 
 " Really I can't." Hester knew by this time that 
 Nuncey's thoughts moved without apparent con- 
 nection. 
 
 "I want to see you out of mourning — well, in 
 half-mourning, then. It ought to be pale grey, and 
 there's a lilac ribbon in Bonaday's shop at this 
 moment. You needn't pretend you don't care about 
 these things, for I know better." 
 
 After supper, and on their way to and from the 
 ferry, Mr. Benny would talk readily enough about 
 the school. But on one point — the tribulation it was 
 bringing upon Aunt Butson — he kept silence ; for the 
 thought of it made him unhappy. He knew that 
 Hester was innocent, but he could not wholly acquit 
 himself of complicity in the poor old woman's fate. 
 Mr. Benny had a troublesome and tender conscience 
 in all matters that concerned his duty towards his 
 neighbour. The School Board was driving Mrs.
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 191 
 
 Butson out of employ, taking away her scanty earn- 
 ings ; and he was Clerk to the School Board. To 
 be sure, if he resigned to-morrow, another man would 
 take his place, and Mrs. Butson be not one penny the 
 better. Mr. Benny saw this, yet it did not ease his 
 conscience wholly. 
 
 Hester, too, kept silence. Her way to the school 
 led her past the little shanty (originally a carpenter's 
 workshop) in which Aunt Butson taught. It stood a 
 stone's-throw back from the village street, partly con- 
 cealed by a clump of elms ; but once or twice she had 
 heard and spied children at play between the trees 
 there — children with faces unfamiliar to her — and 
 gathered that the old woman still kept her door 
 open. As the days went by the date for raising 
 Mrs. Trevarthen's rent, and the cottage still showed 
 every sign of habitation, she took it for granted that 
 Mr. Sam had relented — possibly in obedience to his 
 promise not to persecute the young sailor. She did 
 not know that, in serving his notice without consult- 
 ing Peter Benny, Mr. Sam had made a trifling mis- 
 take ; that Mrs. Trcvarthen held her cottage on a 
 quarterly tenancy, and could neither have her rent 
 raised nor be evicted before Michaelmas. Hester 
 would have been puzzled to say precisely what 
 sealed her lips from inquiry. Partly, no doubt, she 
 shrank from discovering a fresh obligation to Mr. 
 Sam, whose unctuous handshake she was learning 
 to del' Tom Trevarthen had disappeared. His 
 
 mother kept house unmolested. Why not let sleep- 
 ing dogs lie? For the rest, the school absorbed most 
 of her thoughts, and paid back interest in cheerfulness.
 
 192 SHINING FERRY 
 
 The children were beginning to show signs of loyalty, 
 and a teacher who has won loyalty has won every- 
 thing. Myra alone stood aloof, sullen, impervious to 
 kindness. 
 
 In truth, Myra was suffering. For the first time in 
 their lives her will and Clem's had come into conflict ; 
 and Clem's revealed itself as unexpectedly, almost 
 hopelessly, stubborn. That the Virtuous Lady had 
 sailed for Quebec, carrying away Aunt Hannah, the 
 one other person in the world who understood her, 
 made little difference. A hundred Aunt Hannahs 
 could not console her for this loss — for a loss she 
 called it. " The woman is taking him from me ! " 
 She cried the words aloud to herself on her lonely 
 walks, making the cattle in the fields, the horses in 
 the stable, the small greyhound, even the fields and 
 trees, confidants in her woe. " She is stealing you 
 from me," she reproached Clem ; " and you can't see 
 that she is a witch ! You don't love me any longer ! " 
 " I love you better than ever," protested poor Clem. 
 " No, you don't, or you would choose between us. 
 Say ' I hate her ! ' " But Clem shook his head. " I 
 don't hate her ; and besides, she isn't a witch." 
 
 She had been forbidden to speak to Calvin for a 
 week. " My dear man," she answered Mr. Sam, to his 
 no small astonishment, " do you think / want to talk 
 to the pimply creature? He tells fibs; and besides, 
 he's a robber." 
 
 " You are a wicked child ; and if you persist in 
 this talk, I shall have to punish you." 
 
 " Are you going to beat me ? Beat away. But it's 
 true."
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 193 
 
 He did not beat her ; but one day, meeting Hester 
 on the hill as she walked to school, he went so far as 
 to suggest that Myra's spirit needed taming. She 
 had been allowed to run loose, and her behaviour 
 at home caused him many searchings of heart. He 
 made no doubt that her behaviour in school was 
 scarcely more satisfactory. 
 
 Hester admitted that he surmised correctly. 
 
 He had never been blessed with a daughter of his 
 own, and hardly knew what to do with an unruly girl. 
 Might he leave the matter in Miss Marvin's hands? 
 
 "If," said Hester, "you are speaking of her be- 
 haviour in school, you certainly may. She is jealous, 
 poor child, because her brother has taken a fancy to 
 be fond of me. In her place I should be furious. 
 But I think we are going to be friends." 
 
 "Some form of punishment — if I might sug- 
 gest"— 
 
 " I don't know of any that meets the case," Hester 
 answered gravely. 
 
 " I have often " — he fastened on her that gaze of 
 his which she most of all disliked — " I have often- 
 times, of late especially, felt even Calvin to be a 
 responsibility, without a mother's care." He went 
 on from this to the suggestion he had hinted to 
 Mrs. Purchase. Would Miss Marvin be prepared 
 (for an honorarium) to give his son private lessons? 
 Could she afford the time? " I shrink from exposing 
 him to influences, so often malign, of a boarding- 
 school. What I should most of all desire for him 
 is a steady, sympathetic home influence, a — may I 
 say it? — a motherly influence." 
 '3
 
 194 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Hester at this moment, averting her eyes, was 
 aware of an old woman a few yards away, coming 
 up the road ; a woman erect as a soldier, with strong, 
 almost mannish features, and eyes that glared at her 
 fiercely from under a washed-out blue sunbonnet. 
 Mr. Sam gave her good-morning as she went by, 
 but she neither answered nor seemed to hear him. 
 
 "Who is she?" Hester had almost asked, when 
 the woman turned aside into a path leading to the 
 shed among the elms. 
 
 " She'll have to shut up shop next week," said 
 Mr. Sam, following Hester's gaze. " I declare, Miss 
 Marvin, one would think the old woman had ill- 
 wished you, by the way you are staring after her. 
 Don't believe in witchcraft, I hope ? " 
 
 " I have never seen her till now, and I do feel sorry 
 for her." 
 
 " She's not fit to teach, and never was." 
 
 " She's setting me a lesson in punctuality, at any 
 rate," said Hester, forcing a little laugh, glad of an 
 excuse to end the conversation. But along the road 
 and at intervals during the first and second lesson- 
 hours the face of Mrs. Butson haunted her. 
 
 In the hour before dinner, while she sat among 
 the little ones correcting their copy-books, the door- 
 latch clicked, and she looked up with a start — to 
 see the woman herself standing upon the threshold ! 
 Archelaus Libby, who had been chalking on the 
 blackboard at lightning speed a line of figures for 
 his mental arithmetic class, turned to announce them, 
 and paused with a click in his throat which seemed 
 to answer that of the latch. In the sudden hush
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 195 
 
 Hester felt her cheek paling. Somehow she missed 
 the courage with which she had met Tom Trevarthen. 
 
 " Good - morning ! " said Mrs. Butson harshly. 
 " 'Tisn't forbidden to come in, I hope?" 
 
 " Good-morning," Hester found voice to answer. 
 " You may come in, and welcome, if you wish us 
 well." 
 
 " I'm Sarah Butson. As for wishing well or ill to 
 'ee, we'll leave that alone. I've come to listen, not to 
 interrup'." She advanced into the room and pointed 
 a finger at Archelaus Libby. " Is that your male 
 teacher? He bain't much to look at, but I'm told 
 he's terrible for sums." 
 
 " You shall judge for yourself. Go on with your 
 lesson, Archelaus ; and you, Mrs. Butson, take a seat 
 if you will." 
 
 "No; I'll stand." Mrs. Butson shut her jaws 
 firmly and treated the small scholars around her to 
 a fierce, unwavering stare. Many winced, remember- 
 ing her mercies of old. " Go on, young man," she 
 commanded Archelaus. 
 
 He plunged into figures again, nervously at first. 
 Soon he recovered his volubility, and, calling on one 
 of the elder boys to name two rows of figures for 
 division, wrote them out and dashed down the quo- 
 tient ; then flung in the working at top speed, showing 
 how the quotient was obtained ; next rubbed out all 
 but the original divisor and dividend, and, swinging 
 round upon the boys, raced them through the sum, 
 his throat clicking as he appealed from one boy to 
 EUlOther, urging them to answer faster and faster yet. 
 " Yes, yes — but try to multiply in double figures —
 
 196 SHINING FERRY 
 
 twice sixteen, thirty-two : it's no harder than four 
 times eight — the tables don't really stop at twelve- 
 times. Now then — seventy-eight into three-twenty- 
 six? You — you — you — what's that, Sunny Pascoe? 
 Four times? Right — how many over? Fourteen. 
 Now then, bring down the next figure, and that makes 
 the new dividend." 
 
 Mrs. Butson passed her hand over Hester's desk. 
 " You keep 'em well dusted," she observed, turning 
 her back upon Archelaus and his calculations. Her 
 angry-looking eyes travelled over desks, floor, walls, 
 and the maps upon the walls, then back to the 
 children. 
 
 " How many?" she asked. 
 
 " We have sixty-eight on the books." 
 
 " How many here to-day ? " 
 
 " Sixty-six. There are two absent, with certificates. 
 Would you like me to call the roll ? " 
 
 " No. You've got 'em in hand, too, I see." She 
 picked up a copy-book from the desk before her, 
 examined it for a moment, and laid it down. " You 
 like this work ?" she asked, turning her eyes suddenly 
 upon Hester. 
 
 " How else could one do it at all ? " 
 
 " I hate it — yes, hate it," the old woman went on. 
 " Though 'twas my living, I've hated it always. Yet 
 I taught 'em well — you cross the ferry and ask 
 schoolmaster Penrose if I did not. I taught 'em 
 well ; but you beat me — fair and square you do. 
 Only there'll come a time — I warn you — when the 
 hope and pride '11 die out of you, and you'll wake an' 
 wonder how to live out the day. I don't know much,
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 197 
 
 but I know that time must come to all teachers. 
 They never can tell when 'tis coming. After some 
 holiday, belike, it catches 'em sudden. The new lot 
 of children be no worse than the last, but they get 
 treated worse because the teacher's come to end of 
 tether. You take my advice and marry before that 
 time comes." 
 
 " I don't think I shall ever marry." 
 
 " Oh yes, you will ! " Aunt Butson's eyes seemed 
 to burn into Hester's. " You're driving me out to 
 work in the fields ; but, marry or not, you'll give me 
 all the revenge I look for." The old woman hunched 
 her shoulders and made abruptly for the door. As 
 it slammed behind her a weight seemed to fall 
 upon Hester's heart and a sudden shadow across 
 her day. 
 
 Down in the little cottage Aunt Butson found 
 Mrs. Trevarthen standing beside a half-filled packing- 
 case and contemplating a pair of enormous china 
 spaniels which adorned the chimney-piece, one on 
 either side of Chinese junk crusted with sea-shells. 
 
 " What's to be done with 'em ? " Mrs. Trevarthen 
 asked. "They'll take up more room than they're 
 worth, and I doubt they'll fetch next to nothing if 
 I leave 'em behind for the sale. My old man got 
 'em off a pedlar fellow for two-and-threepence apiece, 
 back-along when we first set up house. A terrible 
 extravagance, as I told 'en at the time ; but he took 
 such a fancy to the things, I never had the heart to 
 say what I thought about their looks." 
 
 'You can leave 'em bide," answered Aunt Butson.
 
 198 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Unpack that there case agen an' turn it over to me. 
 I'm goin' to quit." 
 
 " There's too much red-tape about the Widows' 
 Houses," Mrs. Trevarthen pursued. "The Matron 
 says, if I want to bring Tom's parrot, I must speak 
 to Sir George an' get leave : 'tis agen the rules, 
 seemingly." 
 
 " Be quiet with your parrot, an' listen to me ! I'm 
 goin' to shut up school, an' quit. Go an' make your 
 peace wi' that Judas Rosewarne : tell 'en you're gettin' 
 the rids of me, an' he'll let you down easy enough." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen for a moment did not seem to 
 hear, but stood meditatively fingering the china 
 ornaments. Suddenly she swung round upon her 
 lodger. 
 
 " You're goin' to give in ? After all your talk, 
 you're goin' to let that slave-driver ride roughshod 
 over you ? " 
 
 " My dear " — Aunt Butson hunched her shoulders — 
 "'tis no manner of good. Who's goin' to pay me 
 tuppence a week, when that smooth-featured girl up 
 the hill teaches ten times better for a penny? I've 
 been up there to see, and I ben't a fool. She teaches 
 ten times better than ever I did in my life. How 
 many children do 'ee think turned up this mornin' ? 
 Five. And I've taught five-an'-thirty at one time. 
 I sent 'em away ; told 'em to come again to-morrow, 
 and take word to their fathers and mothers to step 
 around at twelve o'clock. They'll think 'tis to come 
 to an arrangement about the fees ; but what I have 
 to tell is that the school's wound up." 
 
 " You may do as it pleases you, Sally Butson.
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 199 
 
 You may go, if you choose, and ask Rosewarne to 
 put his foot on your neck. But if you think I make 
 any terms with 'en, you're mistaken. He've a-driven 
 my Tom from home an' employ ; he've a-cast a good 
 son out o' my sight and knowledge, and fo'ced 'en, 
 for all I know, into wicked courses — for Tom's like 
 his father before 'en ; you can lead 'en by a thread, 
 but against ill-usage he'll turn mad. Will I forgive 
 Rosewarne for this? He may put out the fire in 
 my grate and fling my bed into the street, and I'll 
 laugh and call it a little thing ; but for what he've 
 a-done to the son of a widow I'll put on him the 
 curse of a widow, and not all his wrath shall buy 
 it off by an ounce or shorten it by one inch." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen — ordinarily a mild - tempered 
 woman — shook with her passion as an aspen shakes 
 and whitens in the wind. Aunt Butson laid a hand 
 on her shoulder. 
 
 " There — there ! Put on the kettle, my dear, and 
 let's have a drink of tea. It takes a woman different 
 when she'vc a-got children. But it don't follow, 
 because I'm a single woman, I can't read a lad's 
 fortune. You mark my words, Tom'll fall on his feet." 
 
 Early next morning Mrs. Butson left the cottage 
 with a small pile of books, disinterred from the depths 
 of the box which contained all her belongings — cheap 
 books in gaudy covers of red, blue, and green cloth, 
 lavishly gilded without, execrably printed within : 
 The Wide % Wide World; Caspar ; J^oor John, or 
 Nature's Gentleman; The Parents' Assistant. Her 
 System of education recognised merit, but rewarded
 
 200 SHINING FERRY 
 
 it sparingly. As a rule, she had distributed three 
 prizes per annum, before the Christmas holidays, 
 and at a total cost of two shillings and sixpence. 
 To-day she spread out no fewer than ten upon her 
 desk, covering them out of sight with a duster before 
 her scholars arrived. 
 
 A few minutes before nine she heard them at play 
 outside among the elms, and at nine o'clock punc- 
 tually called them in to work by ringing her hand- 
 bell — the clapper of which (vain extravagance !) had 
 recently been shortened by the village tinsmith to 
 prevent its wearing the metal unequally. Five 
 scholars answered its summons — 'Thaniel Langmaid, 
 Maudie Hosken, Ivy Nancarrow, Jane Ann Toy and 
 her four-year-old brother Luke. Their fathers, one 
 and all, though dwelling in the village, were employed 
 in trades on the other side of the ferry, and therefore 
 could risk offending Mr. Rosewarne ; but their inde- 
 pendence had not yet translated itself into steady 
 payment of the fees, and Mr. Toy (for example) 
 notoriously practised dilatoriness of payment as part 
 of his scheme of life. 
 
 Without a twitch of her fierce features she ranged 
 up her attenuated class, distributed the well-thumbed 
 books — with a horn-book for little Luke Toy — and 
 for two hours taught them with the same joyless 
 severity under which their fathers and mothers had 
 suffered. For spelling "lamb" without the final b, 
 Ivy Nancarrow underwent the punishment invariably 
 meted out for such errors — mounted the dunce's 
 bench, and wore the dunce's cap ; nor did 'Thaniel 
 Langmaid's knuckles escape the ruler when he
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 201 
 
 dropped a blot upon his copy, " Comparisons are 
 Odious " — a proposition of which he understood the 
 meaning not at all. The cane and the birch-rod on 
 Mrs. Butson's desk served her now but as insignia. 
 She had not wielded them as weapons of justice since 
 the day (four years ago) when a struggle with Ivy 
 Nancarrow's elder brother had taught her that her 
 natural strength was abating. 
 
 At twelve o'clock she told the children to close 
 their books, dismissed them to play, and sat down to 
 await the invited company. 
 
 Mr. Toy was the first to arrive. He came straight 
 from the jetties — that is to say, as straight as a steve- 
 dore can be expected to come at noon on Saturday, 
 after receiving his week's pay. He wore his accus- 
 tomed mask of clay-dust, and smelt powerfully of 
 beer, two pints of which he had consumed in an 
 unsocial hurry at the Ferry Inn on his way. 
 
 " Good - morning." Mrs. Butson welcomed him 
 with a nod. "Your wife is coming, I hope?" 
 
 "You bet she is," Mr. Toy answered cheerfully, 
 smacking the coins in his trousers pocket. " She 
 don't miss looking me up this day of the week." 
 Recollecting that certain of the shillings he so lightly 
 jingled were due to Mrs. Butson, he suddenly grew 
 confused, and his embarrassment was not lightened 
 by the entrance of Maudie Ilosken's parents. Mr. 
 Hosken tilled a small freehold garden in his spare 
 hours, and Mr. Toy owed him four shillings and six- 
 pence for potatoes, and had reason to believe that 
 Mrs. Hosken took a stern view of the debt. 
 
 Next came Mrs. Langmaid, a seaman's widow,
 
 202 SHINING FERRY 
 
 and lastly Mrs. Toy, who noted that all the others 
 had made themselves tidy for the ceremony, and at 
 once began to apologise for her husband's appearance. 
 
 Aunt Butson cut her short, however, by ringing 
 the school bell, and marshalling her five pupils back 
 to their seats. The parents dropped themselves here 
 and there among the many empty benches in the 
 rear, and the schoolmistress, after rapping the desk 
 with her cane, from force of habit, mounted the plat- 
 form, uncovered the row of books, and began to 
 arrange them with hands that trembled a little. 
 
 " Friends and neighbours, the reason I've called 'ee 
 together is for a prize-giving. I'll have to say a word 
 or two when that's done ; but just now a prize-giving 
 it is, and we'd best get to business. Girls : Maudie 
 Hosken, first prize for good conduct ; Ivy Nancarrow, 
 consolation prize, ditto ; Jane Ann Toy, extra conso- 
 lation prize, ditto. Step up, girls, and take your 
 books." 
 
 Until Mrs. Hosken leaned forward and nudged her 
 daughter in the back, the children did not budge, so 
 bewildered were they by these sudden awards. When 
 Maudie, however, picked up courage, the other two 
 bravely bore her company, and each received a book. 
 
 " Boys : 'Thaniel Langmaid, first prize for good 
 conduct ; Luke Toy, consolation prize for ditto." 
 
 " Seemin' to me," remarked Mr. Toy audibly, 
 nudging his wife, " there's a deal o' consolation for 
 our small family." 
 
 " Hush ! " answered his wife. " There's as much 
 gilt 'pon Lukey's book as 'pon any ; an' 'tis almost as 
 big."
 
 AUNT BUTSON CLOSES SCHOOL 203 
 
 " Girls : English prize, Ivy Nancarrow — and I hope 
 that in futur', whoever teaches her, she won't think 
 L-A-M spells 'lamb.' Sums and geography prize, 
 Maudie Hosken ; junior prize, Jane Ann Toy." 
 
 " Boys : General knowledge, 'Thaniel Langmaid ; 
 general improvement, Luke Toy." 
 
 " That makes four altogether." Mr. Toy jingled 
 his shillings furtively. " Look here, Selina," he 
 whispered, " we'll have to pay the old 'ooman some- 
 thing on account. How else to get out o' this, I don't 
 see. 
 
 " An' now, friends an' neighbours," began Aunt 
 Butson resolutely, " I've a-fetched 'ee together to say 
 that 'tis all over ; the school's come to an end. 
 You've stuck by me while you could, and I thank you 
 kindly. But 'tis hard for one of my age to fight with 
 tyrants, and tyrants and Government together be too 
 much for me. I've a-taught this here village for 
 getting-up three generations. Lord knows I never 
 loved the work ; but Lord knows I was willing to go 
 on with it till He called me home. Take a look at 
 thicky there blackboard an' easel, bought but the 
 other week ; and here's a globe now, cost me fifteen 
 shillin'— an' what'll I do with it?" She detached it 
 from its frame, and before passing it round for inspec- 
 tion, held it between her trembling palms. " Here be 
 all the nations o' the earth, civilised and uncivilised ; 
 and here be I, Sarah Butson, with no place upon it, 
 after next Monday, to lay my head." 
 
 She looked up with fierce, tearless eyes, and look- 
 ing up, caught sight of Mr. Samuel Rosewarne in the 
 doorway.
 
 204 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Oh, good-morning, Mrs. Butson ! " nodded Mr. 
 Sam easily. " I looked in to see if you'd collected 
 your school-fees this week, as the law requires. You 
 are doing so, it seems ? " 
 
 "Rosewarne" — Mrs. Butson stepped down from 
 her platform, globe in hand. 
 
 " Eh ? I beg your pardon ? " But before the 
 mischief in her eyes he turned and fled. 
 
 She followed him to the door. 
 
 " Take that, you thievin' Pharisee ! " 
 
 The globe missed his head by a few inches, and 
 went flying down the roadway toward the ferry. 
 Aunt Butson strode back among her astonished 
 audience. 
 
 " That's my last word to he" she said, panting ; 
 " and here's my last to you." She picked up her 
 chalk, advanced to the blackboard, and wrote rapidly 
 in bold, clear hand — ■ 
 
 BLAST ALL EDUCATION ! 
 
 " You may go, friends," said she. " I'd like to be 
 alone, if you please."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 
 
 ALTHOUGH Master Calvin Rosewarne, by tell- 
 ing tales, first set the persecution going against 
 Nicky Vro, he did so without any special malevo- 
 lence. It was an instance of Satan's finding mischief 
 for idle hands. The child, in fact, had no playmates, 
 and little to do ; and happening to pass Mrs. Tre- 
 varthen's cottage as her household stuff and sticks of 
 furniture were being removed in a hand-cart, he fol- 
 lowed downhill to the ferry to watch the transhipment. 
 Some minutes later, Mrs. Trevarthen, having locked 
 her door for the last time, laid the key under a 
 geranium -pot on the window-sill. There was no 
 sentiment in her leave-taking. A few late blossoms 
 showed on the jasmine which, from a cutting planted 
 by her in the year of Tom's birth, had over-run and 
 smothered the cottage to its very chimney. Her 
 Michaelmas daisies and perennial phloxes — flowers of 
 her anxious care — were in full bloom. But the old 
 soul had no eyes for them, now at the last, being 
 flustered by the importance of her journey and the 
 thought of many things, hastily packed, which might 
 take harm in crossing the ferry. Mr. Toy (a neigh- 
 bourly fellow with all his failings, and one of that not 
 
 205
 
 206 SHINING FERRY 
 
 innumerous class of men who delight in any labour, so 
 it be unprofitable) had undertaken to load the ferry- 
 boat ; but having in mere exuberance of good-nature 
 imbibed more beer than was good for him, he could 
 not be trusted with the chinaware. 
 
 Neighbours appeared at every doorway — the more 
 emotional ones with red eyes — to wish Mrs. Tre- 
 varthen good-bye. She answered them tremulously ; 
 but her mind, all the way down the street, ran on a 
 hamper of chinaware, the cover of which she could 
 not remember to have tied. Her left arm rested 
 in Aunt Butson's (who carried the parrot's cage 
 swathed in an old petticoat); on her right she bore 
 a covered basket. 
 
 At the slip Mr. Toy handed her on board. He 
 himself would cross later in the horse-boat, with his 
 hand-cart and the heavier luggage. 
 
 " Better count the parcels, missus," he advised. 
 " There's fifteen, as I make out ; and Mr. Vro '11 hand 
 'em out careful 'pon t'other side. You'd best wait 
 there till I come across with the rest." 
 
 Instead of taking her seat at once, Mrs. Tre- 
 varthen stood for a moment bewildered amid the 
 packages crowding the thwarts and the sternsheets ; 
 and most unfortunately Old Vro selected this moment 
 to thrust off from shore with his paddle. The impetus 
 took her at unawares, and she fell forward ; her basket 
 struck against the boat's gunwale, its cover flew open, 
 and forth from it, half-demented with fright, sprang 
 her tabby cat, Methuselah. The poor brute lit upon 
 the parrot's cage, which happened to be balanced 
 upon an unstable pile of cooking utensils at the
 
 PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 207 
 
 end of Nicky Vro's thwart. Cat, cage and parrot, 
 a gridiron, two cake tins, a bundle of skewers, and 
 a cullender, went overboard in one rattling avalanche, 
 and Master Calvin laughed aloud from the shore. 
 
 Nicky Vro, with a wild clutch, grabbed hold of the 
 cage before it sank, and dragged it and the screaming 
 bird out of danger. The gridiron and skewers went 
 down at once — luckily in four feet of water, whence 
 they could be recoved at low-ebb. The cullender sank 
 slowly and with dignity. The cat headed straight 
 for shore, and, defying all attempts of Mr. Toy and 
 Aunt Butson to head him off, slipped between them 
 and dashed up the hill on a bee-line for home. Master 
 Calvin, seated astride the low wall above the slipway, 
 almost rolled off his perch with laughter. Uncle Vro, 
 cage in hand, turned on him with sudden fury. 
 
 "Better fit you was at your lessons," he called 
 back, shaking his fist, "than grinning there at your 
 father's dirty work ! Toy, run an' pull the ears of 
 'en ! — 'twon't be noticed if you pull 'em an inch longer 
 than they be." 
 
 The boy, as Mr. Toy ran towards him with a face 
 that meant business, dropped off the wall on its far 
 side, and charged up the hill for home in a terror 
 scarcely less urgent than Methuselah's. Nor did he 
 feel safe until, at the gate of Hall, he tumbled into 
 his father's arms and panted out his story. 
 
 "Talked about my ' dirty work,' did he?" mused 
 Mr. Sam, pulling at his under-lip. He wheeled about 
 and walked straight to the counting-house, where Mr. 
 Benny sat addressing .Michaelmas bills.
 
 208 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Put those aside for a moment," he commanded. 
 " I want a letter written." 
 
 Mr. Benny took a sheet of notepaper from the rack, 
 dipped his pen, and looked up attentively. 
 
 " It's for the ferryman below here — Old Vro, as 
 you call him. Write that after Saturday next his 
 services will not be required." 
 
 Mr. Benny laid down his pen slowly and stared at 
 his master. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir — you can't mean that 
 you're dismissing him ? " 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " What, old Nicky Vro ? " Mr. Benny shook his 
 head, as much as to say that the thing could not be done. 
 
 " He has been grossly impudent. Apart from that, 
 his incompetence is a scandal, and I have wondered 
 more than once how my father put up with it. In 
 justice to the public using the ferry, and to Lady 
 Killiow as owner of the ferry rights — But, excuse 
 me, I prefer not to argue the matter. He must go. 
 Will you, please, write the letter, and deliver it when 
 you cross the ferry at dinner-time." 
 
 " But, indeed, Mr. Samuel — you must forgive me, 
 sir — old Nicky may be cantankerous at times, but he 
 means no harm to any living soul. The passengers 
 make allowances : he's a part of the ferry, as you 
 might say. As for impudence — if he really has been 
 impudent — will you let me talk to him, sir? I'll 
 engage he asks pardon and promises not to offend 
 again. But think, before in your anger you turn him 
 adrift — where can the old man go, but to the work- 
 house ? What can he have saved, on twelve shillings
 
 PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 209 
 
 a week ? For every twelve shillings he's earned Lady 
 Killiow three to five pounds, week by week, these 
 forty years ; and not one penny of it, I'll undertake 
 to say, has he kept back from her ladyship. What 
 wage is it, after all, for the years of a man's strength 
 that now, with a few more years to live, he should 
 lose it?" 
 
 " Have you done ? " 
 
 Mr. Benny stood up. " I should never have done, 
 sir, until you listened to me." 
 
 " You refuse to write the letter ? " 
 " I humbly beg you, sir, not to ask me to write it." 
 " But I do ask you to write it." 
 Mr. Benny thrust both hands nervously beneath his 
 coat-tails, walked to the window and stood for a 
 second or two, staring out upon the garden. His 
 cheeks were flushed. He had arrived at one of those 
 moments in life which prove a man ; but of heroism 
 he was not conscious at all. 
 
 " I am very sorry, Mr. Samuel," said he, turning 
 again to the table. " If your father had told me to 
 write such a letter, I should have used an old servant's 
 liberty and warned him that he was acting unjustly. 
 Though it made him angry, he would have under- 
 stood. But I see, sir, that I have no right to argue 
 with you ; and so let us have no more words. I 
 cannot write what you wish." 
 
 " My father," answered Mr. Sam, wagging a finger 
 at him, "tolerated many things I do not propose to 
 tolerate. He suffered this old dotard to annoy the 
 public, though long past work. I am not surprised to 
 learn that he suffered you to forget your place" 
 14
 
 210 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Mr. Benny gathered up his papers without answer- 
 ing. 
 
 " Look here, Benny," Mr. Sam resumed, after 
 watching him for a while, " I don't wish to be hard 
 on you; I only require obedience. It's a bit foolish 
 of you — eh ? — to be quarrelling with your bread and 
 butter." 
 
 " May be, sir." 
 
 "If you leave me, I wish it to be understood that 
 'tis by your own choice." 
 
 The little man met his master's eyes now with a 
 look of something like contempt. " If that salves 
 your conscience, sir, by all means have it so. But if 
 'tis to be plain truth between us, you want a younger 
 clerk." 
 
 "Did I ever complain of your incompetence?" 
 
 " My incompetence, sir ? 'Tis my competence you 
 surely mean ? I reckon no man can be sure of being 
 a good servant till he has learnt to advise for his 
 master's good against his master's will." 
 
 "What's the matter with 'ee, Peter?" asked Nicky 
 Vro as he rowed Mr. Benny across the ferry at dinner- 
 time. " You're looking as downcast as a gib cat." 
 
 " I was wondering," answered Mr. Benny gently, 
 "how many times we two have crossed this ferry 
 together." 
 
 Nicky Vro pondered. " Now that's the sort o' 
 question I leave alone o' set purpose, and I'll tell 'ee 
 for why. One night, years ago, and just as we was 
 off to bed, my poor wife says to me, ' I wonder how 
 many times you've crossed the ferry, first and last.'
 
 PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 211 
 
 ' Hundreds and thousands,' I says, just like so. 
 She'd a-put the question in idleness, an' in idleness 
 I answered it. Will you believe it? — between twelve 
 and one in the morning I woke up with my head full 
 o' riggers. Not another wink o' sleep could I get, 
 neither. Soon as ever I shook up the bolster an' 
 settled down for another try, I see'd myself whiskin' 
 back and forth over this here piece o' water like a 
 piston-rod in a steamship, and off I started countin' 
 for dear life. Count ? I tell you it lasted for nights, 
 and by the end o' the week I had to see the doctor 
 about it. I was losin' flesh. Doctor, he gave me a 
 bottle o' trade — very flat-tasted stuff it was, price 
 half a crown, with a sediment if you let it stand ; and 
 after a few days the trouble wore off. They tell me 
 there's a new pupil teacher up to the school can 
 answer questions like that while you're countin' his 
 buttons. I've seen the fellow: a pigeon-chested poor 
 creatur', with his calves put on the wrong way. I'd a 
 mind to tell 'en that with figgers, as with other walks 
 o' life, a man's first business is to look after his own. 
 But I didn't like to, he looked so harmless. Puttin' 
 one thing with another, Peter Benny, I'd advise you 
 to leave these spcckilations alone. Be it a thousand 
 times or ten thousand, there's only one time that 
 counts — the last ; and only the Lord A'mighty knows 
 when that'll be." 
 
 Mr. Benny sighed. " When the Lord sets a man 
 free of his labour, Nicky, He does it gently. But we 
 have to deal with an earthly master, we two, and his 
 mercies aren't so gentle." 
 
 Nicky Vro nodded. " You'm thinkin' of they two
 
 212 SHINING FERRY 
 
 poor souls up the hill. A proper tyrant Mister Sam 
 can be, and so I told that ugly-featured boy of his, 
 when I put Mrs. Trevarthen across this mornin'. 
 Twas a shame, too, to lose my temper with the 
 cheeld ; for a cat couldn' help laughin' — supposin' 
 he wasn't the partickler cat consarned." The old 
 man told the story, chuckling wheezily. 
 
 " You went too far, Nicky. I have the best reasons 
 for knowing that you went too far. Now listen to 
 me. As soon as you get back, hitch up your boat, 
 walk straight up to Hall, and tell Mr. Sam that 
 you're sorry." 
 
 " Well, so I am in a way, though the fellow do turn 
 my stomach. Still there wasn' no sense in rappin' 
 out on the boy." 
 
 " It doesn't help the old woman, you know," said 
 Mr. Benny, and sighed again, bethinking himself how 
 vain had been his own protest. 
 
 " Not a bit," assented Mr. Vro cheerfully. " Well, 
 I'll go back and make it up with the varmint. I 
 reckon he means to give me a bad few minutes ; but 
 'tis foolish to quarrel when folks can't do without one 
 another, and so I'll tell 'en." 
 
 Half an hour ago Mr. Benny had been a brave 
 man, but as he neared his home a sudden cowardice 
 seized him. It was not that he shirked breaking the 
 news to his wife ; nay, he fiercely desired to tell her, 
 and get the worst over. But in imagination he saw 
 the children seated around the table, all hungry as 
 hunters for the meal which, under God's grace, he had 
 never yet failed to earn ; and the thought that they
 
 PETER BENNY'S DISMISSAL 213 
 
 might soon hunger and not be fed, for a moment 
 unmanned him. He hurried past the ope leading to 
 his door. The dinner-hour's quiet rested on the little 
 town, and there was no one in the street to observe 
 him as he halted by the church-gate, half-minded to 
 return. The gate stood open, and as he glanced up 
 at the tower the clock there rang out its familiar 
 chime. He passed up the path, entered, and cast 
 himself on his knees. 
 
 For half an hour he knelt, and, although he prayed 
 but by fits and starts, by degrees peace grew within 
 him and possessed his soul. He waited until the 
 clock struck two — by which time the children would 
 be back at school — and walked resolutely homeward. 
 
 Mrs. Benny and Nuncey were alone in the kitchen, 
 where the board had been cleared of all but the table- 
 cloth and his own knife and fork. They cried out 
 together upon his dilatoriness ; but while his wife 
 turned to fetch his dinner from the oven, Nuncey 
 took a step forward, scanning his face. 
 
 " Father ? " 
 
 He put out a hand as he dropped into his seat, and 
 stared along the empty table. 
 
 " I am dismissed." 
 
 Mrs. Benny faced about, felt for a chair, and sat 
 down trembling. Nuncey took her father's hand. 
 
 " Tell us all about it," she commanded ; and he 
 told them. 
 
 I lis wife cast her apron over her head. 
 
 "But he'll take you back," she moaned. "If you 
 go to 'en and ask 'en properly, he'll surely take you 
 back!"
 
 214 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Don't be foolish, mother." Nuncey laid a hand 
 on her father's shoulder, and he looked up at her with 
 brimming eyes. " Tis Rosewarne that shall send to 
 us before we go to him ! " 
 
 She patted the tired shoulders, now bent again 
 over the table. 
 
 " But what a brave little father it is, after all ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 
 
 WHAT'S the matter with Benny?" asked 
 Nicky Vro as he rowed Hester across 
 that evening. They were alone in the 
 boat. " The man seemed queer in his manner this 
 morning, like as if he was sickenin' for something, 
 and this afternoon I han't seen fur nor feather of en." 
 He dug away with his paddles, and resumed with a 
 chuckle, after a dozen strokes, " The man hasn't been 
 quarrellin' with his bread an' butter, I hope? I went 
 up to see Mr. Sam on a little business o' my own 
 after dinner, and he fairly snapped my nose off 
 — called me an impident old fool, and gave me the 
 sack. Iss fay, he did ! I wasn't goin' to argue with 
 the man. 'You'll think better o' this to-morrow,' 
 I said, and with that I corned away. Something 
 must have occurred to put 'en out before he talked 
 that nonsense to me." 
 
 Next morning, Hester — who meanwhile had learned 
 the truth — found the old fellow in the same cheerful, 
 incredulous frame of mind. She might have told 
 him how serious was his case; but it is improbable 
 that she could have convinced him, and, moreover, 
 
 216
 
 216 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Mr. Benny, before confiding to her the reason of 
 his own dismissal, had made her promise to keep it 
 a secret. 
 
 By Saturday, however, it was generally known 
 that Mr. Sam had found some excuse or other to 
 get rid of his father's confidential clerk. Now Mr. 
 Benny had hitherto brought down Nicky's weekly 
 wages on Saturday evenings as he crossed by the 
 ferry. This week no Mr. Benny appeared, nor 
 any messenger from Hall ; and consequently 
 on Sunday morning early Nicky donned a clean 
 shirt-front and marched up to the house to claim 
 his due. 
 
 " I make it a rule," said Mr. Sam, " to dispense no 
 moneys on the Sabbath." 
 
 " The ferry charges double on the Sabbath, as you 
 call it," answered Nicky, "and always has. I don't 
 see where your squeamishness begins. Hows'ever, 
 I'll call to-morrow rather than hurt any man's con- 
 science ; only let's have it clear when the money's 
 to be paid in futur'." 
 
 "In future?" echoed Mr. Sam. "I hoped I had 
 made it clear that after this week you cease to be 
 ferryman." 
 
 " That's a good joke, now," said Nicky. 
 
 " I am glad you take it so pleasantly. Come to 
 me to-morrow, and you shall be paid ; and again 
 next Saturday, after you have chained up for the 
 night. That, I warn you, will be the last time." 
 
 " Oh, you'll think better of it by Saturday ! " 
 
 That Mr. Sam did not think better of it scarcely 
 needs to be said ; and during the next few days some
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 217 
 
 of Nicky's confidence began to ooze away. His 
 master made no sign ; he could not hear that any- 
 one had been engaged in his place, or that anyone 
 had been proposed for the job, but this silence some- 
 how disconcerted rather than reassured him. He 
 discussed it with his neighbour Hosken (one of the 
 few small freeholders in the parish, who along with a 
 cottage and two acres of garden had inherited a deep 
 ancestral suspicion of the Rosewarnes and all their 
 ways), and between them the pair devised a plan to 
 meet contingencies. 
 
 The ferry closed at eight p.m. during the winter 
 months. At half-past eight on Saturday night Nicky 
 again presented himself at Hall, and was politely 
 received in the counting-house. 
 
 "Take a seat," suggested Mr. Sam. 
 
 " Thank 'ee, sir," said Nicky, somewhat reassured. 
 This opening promised at least that Mr. Sam found 
 the situation worth discussing. " Thank 'ee, sir ; but 
 'tis a relief to me to stand, not to mention the 
 trowsers." 
 
 " Please yourself." Mr. Sam paused, and appeared 
 to be waiting. 
 
 " 'Tis nice seasonable weather for the time of year," 
 said Nicky cheerfully, producing a large canvas bag 
 and reaching forward to lay it on the writing-table. 
 It contained his week's takings, mostly in coppers. 
 "Three pounds, twelve shillings, and ninepencc, sir, 
 if you'll count it. There's one French penny, must 
 have been put upon me just now after dark. I can't 
 swear to the person, though I can guess. The last 
 load but one, I brought across a sailor-looking chap,
 
 218 SHINING FERRY 
 
 a bustious, big fellow, with a round hat like a mis- 
 sionary's, and all the rest of him in sea-cloth. Thinks 
 I, 'You've broken ship, my friend.' The man had 
 a drinking face, and altogether I didn't like his looks. 
 So, next trip, I warned the constable across the water, 
 in case he heard of a seaman missing from the 
 west'ard. But this here French penny I only dis- 
 covered just now, when I counted up the day's 
 takings." 
 
 " I fancy you must be mistaken," said Mr. Sam. 
 " The man has a good character for honesty." 
 
 "What? You know 'en?" 
 
 " He is the new tenant of Mrs. Trevarthen's cottage, 
 and has come to take over the ferry." In the pause 
 that followed, Mr. Sam counted and arranged the 
 coins in small stacks. " Three-twelve-nine, did you 
 say? Right. But excuse me, there's one thing 
 you've forgotten." 
 
 Nicky understood. Very slowly he drew a chain 
 from his left trouser pocket, detached two keys, and 
 laid them on the table. His face worked, and for 
 the moment he seemed on the verge of an outburst ; 
 but, when he spoke, it was with dignity, albeit his 
 voice trembled. 
 
 " Mr. Samuel, you try to go where the devil can't, 
 between the oak and the rind. Your father fought 
 with men of his own size, and gave an' took what the 
 fightin' brought ; but as for you, you fight with 
 women and children, and old worn-out men, such as 
 the Lord helps because they can't help themselves. 
 You han't beat us yet — not by a long way. I warn 
 you to pray that the way may be lengthened ; for 'tis
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 219 
 
 when you've overcome us, an' the Lord takes up our 
 cause, that your troubles '11 begin." 
 
 Small sleep came to Nicky Vro that night. What 
 troubled him most in the prospect of the struggle 
 ahead — for a struggle he meant it to be — was his 
 position as Rosewarne's tenant. Mean as was his 
 hovel above the ferry — rented by him at four pounds 
 a year — he clung to it, and Mr. Samuel would cer- 
 tainly turn him out. By good luck he paid his rent 
 quarterly, and could not be evicted before Christmas. 
 He had talked this over with his neighbour, Hosken, 
 who had encouraged him to be cheerful. " Drat it 
 all, uncle," said Hosken, himself the cheeriest of men, 
 " if the worst comes to the worst, I'll take you in 
 myself, and give you your meals and a crib." 
 
 Nicky shook his head. " You'd best talk it over with 
 your wife," said he, " afore you make free with your 
 promises. She's a good woman, but afflicted with 
 tidiness. I doubt my ways be too messy for her." 
 
 While he lay on his straw mattress thinking of 
 these things, a distant gallop of hoofs woke the night, 
 and by and by, with much clattering of loose stones, a 
 horse came plunging down the village street. 
 
 Old Nicky, who slept in his clothes, was out of bed 
 and ready before the rider drew rein. 
 
 "Tis young Tregenza from Kit's Harbour," he 
 muttered. " I heard that his missus was expectin'. 
 Lord, how a man will ride for his first I All right! 
 all right!" he sung out, fumbling with the bar 
 as the butt of a riding-whip rattled on the shutter, 
 "lie that you, Mr. Tregen/.a?"
 
 220 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " For the Lord's sake, uncle ! " an agitated voice 
 made answer out of the darkness. 
 
 " There, there ! Yours ben't the first case that have 
 happened, my lad, and you'll ride easier next time. 
 Hitch up the horse, and I'll have the boat out in 
 two two's." 
 
 " Why can't you fetch out the horse-boat ? " 
 
 " Because, my son, I ben't the proper ferryman. 
 You must ride back up the hill if you want he ; and 
 even so, I doubt he'll have to knock up the folks 
 at Hall to get at the keys." 
 
 Mr. Tregenza broke out into impatient swearing on 
 all who delayed travel on the king's highway. 
 
 " You may leave your curses, young man, to them 
 with a better right to use 'em. Thank the Almighty 
 there's a boat to put you across. Hosken's blue boat 
 it is ; you'll find her ready to launch, down 'pon the 
 slip. Take her and pull for the doctor. Tell 'en 
 'tis no use his bringing a horse, for there's no boat 
 to fetch a horse over. But there's Tank's grey mare 
 up to the inn. I'll have her ready saddled for him, 
 if he'll promise to ride steady and mind the sore 'pon 
 her near shoulder." 
 
 All the village had heard the midnight gallop 
 of hoofs ; all the village had guessed accurately who 
 the rider was, and why he rode. But Nicky's dis- 
 missal was known to a few only. Soon after day- 
 break the news of this spread too, with the circum- 
 stance that only Nicky's good-nature had kept clear 
 the king's highway for a message which above all 
 others needs to be carried with speed. 
 
 Nicky sat complacent off the ferry-slip in Hosken's
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 221 
 
 blue boat when the new ferryman arrived (twenty- 
 minutes late, by reason of his having to fetch the 
 keys from Hall), and stolidly undid the padlock 
 fastening the official craft. 
 
 " Aw, good-mornin' ! " Nicky hailed him. 
 
 " Mornin'," said the new ferryman. 
 
 " We're in opposition, it seems." 
 
 " Darned if I care." The new ferryman lit his pipe 
 and spat. " My name's Elijah Bobe." 
 
 " Then, Elijah Bobe, you may as well go home. 
 'Tis Sunday, and a slack day ; but, were it Saturday 
 and full business, your takings wouldn't cover your 
 keep." 
 
 " Darned if I care," Mr. Bobe repeated. " I'm paid 
 by the week." He sucked at his pipe for a while. 
 "Ticklish job, ain't it? — interferin' with a private 
 ferry ? " he asked. 
 
 But Nicky had taken opinion upon this. So far as 
 he could discover, the case lay thus : Of the ferry 
 itself nothing belonged to Lady Killiow but the slip- 
 way on the near shore. The farther slipway was not 
 precisely no-man's-land, for the foreshore belonged to 
 the Duchy, and the soil immediately above it to Sir 
 George Dinham ; but here half a dozen separate 
 interests came into conflict. Sir George, while assert- 
 ing ownership of the land, would do nothing to repair 
 or maintain the slip on it, arguing very reasonably 
 that he derived no profit from the dues, and that since 
 these went to Lady Killiow, she was bound to main- 
 tain her own landing-places. Rosewarne, on the other 
 hand, as Lady Killiow's steward, flatly refused to 
 execute repairs upon another person's properly. The
 
 222 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Duchy, being appealed to, told the two parties (in 
 effect) to fight it out. The Highway Board was ready 
 enough to maintain the road down to highwater 
 mark, but, on legal advice, declined to go farther. 
 The Harbour Commissioners held that to repair a 
 private ferry was no business of theirs, and, although 
 the condition of the slipway had for years been a 
 scandal, refused to meddle. The whole dispute 
 raised the nice legal points, What is a ferry? Does 
 the term include not only the boat but access to 
 the boat ? And, incidentally, if anyone broke a leg 
 on the town shore on his way between highwater 
 mark and the boat, from whom could he recover 
 damages? 
 
 In short, Nicky felt easy enough about landing and 
 embarking his passengers on the town shore. Rose- 
 warne could not challenge him without raising the 
 whole question of the slipway. But on the near shore 
 he must act circumspectly. To be sure the approach 
 to the water here was part of the king's highway. 
 The whole village used it, and moored their boats 
 without let or hindrance off the slip which (since the 
 land belonged to the Killiow estate) the Rosewarnes 
 had kept in good repair, and without demur. But it 
 was clearly understood — and Nicky, a few hours ago, 
 would have asserted it as stubbornly as anyone — that 
 the sole right of taking a passenger on board here for 
 hire and conveying him across to the town appertained 
 to the Killiow ferryman. 
 
 As it happened, however, at the back of Nicky's 
 cottage a narrow lane, public though seldom used, 
 ran down to the waterside, to a shelf of rock less than
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 223 
 
 a stone's throw from the slip, and, when cleared of 
 weed below the tide-mark, by no means inconvenient 
 for embarking passengers. A rusty ring, clamped 
 into the living rock, survived to tell of days before 
 steam-tugs were invented, when vessels had painfully 
 to warp their way up and down the river. Through 
 this ring, no man forbidding him, Mr. Hosken had 
 run a frape, on which he kept his blue boat, now 
 leased to Nicky for a nominal rent of sixpence a 
 week. 
 
 " And why not use this for your ferry-landing ? " 
 Mr. Hosken suggested. " Rosewarne can't touch ye 
 here." 
 
 "Sure?" 
 
 " I reckon I ought to know the tithe-maps by 
 heart ; and, by them, this parcel of shore belongs to 
 nobody, unless it be to Her Majesty." 
 
 Nicky chuckled with a wheezy cunning. 
 
 It happened as he had promised the new ferryman. 
 Mr. Sam's unpopularity had been growing in the 
 village since the eviction of Mrs. Trevarthen. Aunt 
 Butson, after a vain attempt to find labour in the 
 fields, had followed her to the almshouse across the 
 water. The cause of Mr. Benny's dismissal had been 
 freely canvassed and narrowly guessed at. Against 
 this new stroke of tyranny the public revolted. 
 Living so far from their own church and a mile from 
 the nearest chapel, numbers of the villagers were wont 
 on Sundays to cross over to the town for their 
 religion, and to-day with one consent they stepped 
 into Nicky's blue boat, while Mr. Bobe smoked 
 and spat, and regarded them with a lazy interest.
 
 224 
 
 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Towards evening the old man jingled a pocketful 
 of coppers. 
 
 "Why ever didn't I think o' this before?" he asked 
 aloud. " Here I've a-been near upon fifty years earnin' 
 twelve shillings a week, and all the while might ha' 
 been a rich man and my own master ! " 
 
 Next day he sought out Mr. Toy, and Mr. Toy 
 obligingly painted and lettered a board for him, and 
 helped to fix it against the wall of his hovel overlook- 
 ing the lane — 
 
 THIS WAY TO 
 
 N. VRO FERRYMAN 
 
 THE OLD FIRM 
 
 Here was defiance indeed, a flaunted banner of 
 revolt ! The villagers, who had hitherto looked upon 
 the old man as half-witted but harmless, suddenly 
 discovered him to be a hero, and Mr. Toy gave him- 
 self a holiday to stand beneath the board and explain 
 it to all the country folk coming to use the ferry. 
 So well did he succeed that between sunset and sun- 
 rise the only passenger by the official boat was Mr. 
 Sam himself, on his way to seek and take counsel 
 with Lawyer Tulse. 
 
 Of their interview no result appeared for ten days, 
 during which Nicky saw himself acquiring wealth 
 beyond the dreams of avarice. Already he despised 
 what at first had been so terrible, the prospect of 
 being turned out of house and home. He could snap
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 225 
 
 his fingers, and let Mr. Sam do his worst. He no 
 longer thought of hiring a bedroom ; he would rent a 
 small cottage from Hosken, and perhaps engage a 
 housekeeper. It is to be feared that in these days 
 Nicky gave way to boasting ; but much may be 
 forgiven to a man who blossoms out into a hero at 
 eighty. 
 
 On the twelfth day of his prosperity, as he rested 
 on his oars off the town-landing and dreamed of a 
 day when, by purchasing a horse-boat, he would 
 deprive the official ferry of its only source of revenue, 
 and close all competition, a seedy-looking man in a 
 frayed overcoat stepped down the slipway and accosted 
 him. 
 
 " Is your name Nicholas Vro? " 
 
 " It is ; and you'm askin' after the right boat, 
 stranger though you be. Step aboard, mister." 
 
 "Thank you," said the seedy-looking man, "but I 
 don't need to cross. The fact is, I've a paper to 
 deliver to you." 
 
 Nicky, as he did not mind confessing, was " no 
 scholar " ; he could read at the best with great 
 difficulty, and he had left his spectacles at home. 
 
 " What's the meaning o' this ? " he asked, turning 
 the document over. 
 
 " It's an injunction." 
 
 " That makes me no wiser, my son." 
 
 " It's a paper to restrain you from plying this ferry 
 for hire pending a suit Killiow versus Vro in which 
 you are named as defendant." 
 
 "'Suit'— 'verses'? Darn the fellow, what's to do 
 with verses ? Come to me with your verses ! " Nicky 
 '5
 
 226 SHINING FERRY 
 
 tossed the injunction contemptuously down in the 
 sternsheets. 
 
 " You'll find 'tis the law," said the stranger warn- 
 ingly. 
 
 " The law? I've a-seen the law, my friend, over to 
 Bodmin, and 'tis a very different looking chap from 
 you, I can assure 'ee. The law rides in a gilt coach 
 with trumpets afore it, and two six-foot fellows up 
 behind in silk stockings and powder. The law be 
 that high and mighty it can't even wear its own 
 nat'ral hair. And you come to me stinkin' of beer 
 in a reach-me-down overcoat, and pretend you be the 
 law ! You'll be tellin' me next you're Queen Victoria. 
 But it shows what a poor kind o' case Rosewarne 
 must have, that he threatens me wi' such a make- 
 believe." 
 
 That Nicky had been alarmed for the moment 
 cannot be denied. His uneasiness died away, how- 
 ever, as the days passed and nothing happened. The 
 paper he stowed away at home in the skivet of his 
 chest, and very foolishly said nothing about it even 
 to his neighbour Hosken. 
 
 Indeed he had almost forgotten it when, just before 
 Christmas, the stranger appeared again on the slip 
 with another paper. 
 
 "Hullo! More verses?" 
 
 " You've to show cause why you shouldn't be com- 
 mitted for contempt." 
 
 " Oh, have I ? Well, a man can't help his feelin's, 
 but I'm sorry if I said anything the other day to hurt 
 yours; for a man can't help his appearance, neither, 
 up to a point."
 
 RIGHT OF FERRY 227 
 
 "You've none too civil a tongue," answered the 
 stranger, "but I think it a kindness to warn you. By- 
 continuing to ply this ferry you're showing con- 
 tempt for the law, and the law is going to punish 
 you." 
 
 Nicky thought this out, but could not understand 
 it at all. If Mr. Sam had a legal right to stop him, 
 why hadn't he sent the police, or at least a " sum- 
 mons " ? As for going to prison, that only happened 
 to thieves and criminals. No man could be locked 
 up for pulling a boat to and fro ; the notion was 
 absurd on the face of it. 
 
 Two days later he sought out Mr. Benny, and 
 showed him the documents. 
 
 " I wish you'd make head or tail of 'em for me. 
 They're pretendin' somehow that Queen Victoria 
 herself is mixed up in it. God bless her ! and me 
 that have never clapped eyes on her nor wished her 
 aught but in health an' wealth long to live, Amen." 
 
 " Oh, Nicky, Nicky ! " Mr. Benny leapt up from 
 his chair. " What have you done ! and what a 
 criminal fool was I not to keep an eye on you ! " 
 
 " From all I hear," said Nicky, "you've had enough 
 to do lookin' after yourself. Be it true, as I hear 
 tell, that Rosewame gave you the sack on my 
 account ? " 
 
 " Never talk of that," commanded Mr. Benny. 
 " Go you home now, lock up your boat, get a night's 
 
 t, and expect me early to-morrow morning. Be- 
 tween this and then I will see what can be done." 
 But his heart sank as he glanced again at the date on 
 the document.
 
 228 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Indeed he was too late. After an ineffectual inter- 
 view with Mr. Tulse, the little man rushed off to the 
 ferry, intent on facing Mr. Sam in his den and plead- 
 ing for mercy. But as he reached the slip the official 
 ferry-boat came alongside, and in the sternsheets 
 beside the town policeman sat Nicky Vro, on his way 
 to Bodmin gaol.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 
 
 CLEM!" 
 The blind child awoke at the touch of his 
 sister's hand on his shoulder, and turned 
 drowsily in his bed. 
 
 "Eh? What's the matter?" A moment later he 
 sat up in alarm and put out a hand as if to feel the 
 darkness. " It isn't morning yet !" 
 
 " No ; but the ground is all covered with snow, and 
 you can't think what funny lights are dancing over it 
 across the sky. I've been watching them for minutes 
 and minutes." 
 
 " What sort of lights ? " 
 
 " I can't tell you, because I never saw the like of 
 them. Sometimes they're white, and sometimes 
 they're violet, and then again green and orange. 
 They run right across the sky like ribbons waving, 
 and once they turned to red and lit up the snow as 
 far as I could sec." 
 
 " You've been catching your death of cold." Clem 
 could hear her teeth chattering. 
 
 " I'm not SO very cold," Myra declared bravely. 
 
 " I took off the counterpane and wrapped it round 
 
 me. You'll come, won't you, dear?" 
 
 829
 
 230 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Clem knew why he was summoned. Two days 
 ago Susannah had told them of an old woman 
 living at Market Jew who had mixed a pot of green 
 ointment and touched her eyes with it, and ever 
 afterwards seen the fairies. At once Myra, who was 
 naught if not practical, had secreted Susannah's jar 
 of cold cream (kept to preserve the children's skin 
 from freckles) and a phial of angelica-water from 
 the store-closet, had stirred these into a beautiful 
 green paste, and had anointed her own eyes and 
 Clem's with it, using incantations — 
 
 " Christ walked a little, a little 
 
 Before the sun did rise ; 
 Christ mixed clay with spittle, 
 
 And cured a blind man's eyes ; 
 This man, and that man, 
 
 And likewise Bartimee — 
 What Christ did for these poor men 
 
 I hope He'll do for me." 
 
 The charm, however, had not worked. Perhaps it 
 needed time to operate, and the children had de- 
 spaired too soon. 
 
 " Why didn't you come to me at once? " demanded 
 Clem. 
 
 " I didn't dare." Myra trembled now, on the verge 
 of putting her hopes to the touch. Though these 
 were but pisky-lights, what bliss if Clem should 
 behold them ! " Besides, I saw a light across the 
 yard in Archelaus Libby's garret. I believe he is 
 awake there, with his telescope, and he can't have 
 tried the ointment. You won't be terribly dis- 
 appointed, dear, if" —
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 231 
 
 He slid out of bed and took her hand. 
 
 He was a brave boy ; and when she led him to her 
 window and he saw nothing, his first thought was for 
 her disappointment, to soothe it as well as he might. 
 
 " Tell me about it," he whispered, nestling down on 
 the window-seat and drawing her head close to his 
 shoulder ; for after the pause that destroyed hope she 
 had broken down, her body shaking with muffled 
 sobs, woeful to feel and to hear. Outside, the 
 Northern Lights — the " merry-dancers " — yet flickered 
 over the snowy roof-ridges and the snowy uplands 
 beyond. 
 
 " I am going to dress," she announced, as the gust 
 of sobbing spent itself. " If Archelaus Libby is 
 awake, he will tell us what it means." 
 
 " Take me with you." 
 
 Though prepared to go alone, she had hoped he 
 would ask this, being — to confess the truth — more 
 than half afraid of the dark landing and passages 
 below. The two dressed themselves and crept 
 downstairs. In the hall, remembering their former 
 expedition, Myra felt the bolt of the front door 
 cautiously ; but this time it was shut. They stole 
 down the side-passage to the kitchen, where a fire 
 burned all night in the great chimney-place on a bed 
 of white wood ashes. Kneeling in the faint glow of 
 it they drew on and laced their boots, then un- 
 latched the kitchen window and dropped out upon 
 the snow. 
 
 Archelaus Libby had been given a garret over the 
 cider house, where he slept or studied in a perpetual 
 odour of dried russet apples and Spanish onions.
 
 SHINING FERRY 
 
 He was awake and dressed, and welcomed the 
 children gaily by the light of a tallow candle. His 
 simple mind found nothing to wonder at in this 
 nocturnal visit. Was not the Aurora Borealis per- 
 forming in all its splendour? Then naturally the 
 whole world must be awake with him and excited. 
 
 He showed Myra its wonders through the tele- 
 scope, discoursing on them with glee. 
 
 " But what does it mean ? " she asked. 
 
 He told her how it was caused, and how a clever 
 man had once made a toy with a bright lamp, a 
 globe sprinkled with ground glass, and the vapour of 
 a sponge pressed on hot iron, repeating the phen- 
 omenon on a tiny scale. " We will try it ourselves 
 to-morrow," he promised. 
 
 The ribbons of light were playing hide-and-seek 
 behind a distant wooded hill, now and again so 
 vividly that its outline stood up clear against them. 
 
 " That will be the moors above Damelioc," said 
 Archelaus. "If you watch through the glass, you 
 will see the monument there — the one on the battle- 
 field, you know. I saw it, just now, plain as plain. 
 And once I thought I saw the taller monument, over 
 Bodmin." 
 
 " That's where they've put Uncle Vro in gaol." 
 
 "I was thinking of him just now, Miss Myra. It 
 
 will be cold for him to-night over there in his cell." 
 
 " I wonder if Lady Killiow knows," said Myra 
 musingly. 
 
 " They were talking about it in the kitchen 
 
 to-night," said Archelaus, " and all agreed that she 
 
 knew naught about it. Miss Susannah was saying
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 233 
 
 that Peter Benny had been across here, bold as a lion, 
 this afternoon, and spoke up to your uncle about it. 
 Their voices were so loud that from the great parlour 
 she heard every word ; and Mr. Benny was threaten- 
 ing to tell Lady Killiow what he was doing in her 
 name, and, what's more, to write up to his brother 
 and get the whole story in the London papers." 
 
 " But has he told her ? " 
 
 Clem caught his sister suddenly by the arm. The 
 child was shaking from head to foot. " Peter Benny 
 has not told her ! Come away, Myra, and leave 
 Archelaus to his telescope. I want you, back at the 
 house ! " 
 
 " Why, whatever has taken you ? " she asked, 
 believing him ill. Having wished Archelaus good- 
 night and hurried Clem down the garret stairs, she 
 repeated her question anxiously. " Come back to 
 bed, Clem ; you're shaking like a leaf!" 
 
 " The lights ! " stammered the child. " I saw 
 them." 
 
 " You saw them ! " Myra echoed slowly. 
 
 " Yes, yes — over Bodmin and over Damelioc. How 
 far is it to Damelioc ? " 
 
 " Four or five miles maybe. But, Clem, you don't 
 mean " — She stared into his face by the wan light 
 of the Aurora reflected from the snow. Reading his 
 resolve, she became practical at once. " Stay here 
 and don't stir," she commanded, "while I creep back 
 to the larder and forage." 
 
 Dawn overtook them at the lodge-gates of Dam- 
 elioc ; a still dawn, with a clear, steel-blue sky and the
 
 234 SHINING FERRY 
 
 promise of a crisp, bright day. It had been freezing 
 all night, and was freezing still ; the snow as yet lay 
 like a fine powder, and so impetuously had they 
 hurried, hand in hand, that along the uplands they 
 scarcely felt the edge of the windless air. But here 
 in the valley bottom, under the trees beside the 
 stream, they passed into a different atmosphere, and 
 shivered. Here, too, for the first half-mile — road and 
 sward being covered alike with snow — Myra had 
 much ado to steer, and would certainly have missed 
 her way but for the black tumbling stream on her 
 right. She knew that the drive ran roughly parallel 
 with it, and never more than a few paces distant 
 from its brink. Twice in her life she had journeyed 
 with her grandmother in high June to Lady Killiow's 
 rose-show, and she remembered being allowed to 
 kneel on the cushions of the " car " and wonder 
 at the miniature bridges and cascades. By keep- 
 ing close beside the water she could not go wrong. 
 
 They halted by a bridge below the lake where the 
 woods divided to right and left at the foot of the 
 great home-park. A cold fog lay over the water 
 and the reedy islands where the wild duck and 
 moorhens were just beginning to stir, but above it a 
 glint or two of sunshine touched the wintry boughs, 
 and while it grew and ran along them and lit up 
 their snowy upper surfaces as with diamonds, a full 
 morning beam smote on the facade of the house 
 itself, high above the slope, uplifted above the fog as 
 it were a heavenly palace raised upon a base of cloud. 
 
 Daunted by the vision, Myra glanced at Clem. 
 His face was lifted towards the sunlight.
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 235 
 
 " The house ! " she whispered. " Oh, Clem, it's 
 ever so much grander than I remembered ! " She 
 began to describe it to him, while they divided and 
 munched the crusts she had fetched from Susannah's 
 bread-pan. 
 
 " If her palace is as fine as that," said Clem, with 
 great cheerfulness, "she must be a very great lady, 
 and can easily do what we want." 
 
 They took hands again and mounted the curving 
 drive to the terrace and the cavernous porte-cochere, 
 where hung a bell-pull so huge that Myra had to 
 clasp it in both hands and drag upon it with all her 
 weight. Far in the bowels of the house a bell 
 clanged, deep and hollow-voiced as for a funeral. 
 
 A footman answered it — a young giant in blue 
 livery and powder. Flinging wide the vast door, he 
 stared down upon the visitors, and his Olympian 
 haughtiness gave way to a broad grin. 
 
 "Well, I'm jiggered!" said the footman. 
 
 " You may be jiggered or not," answered Myra, 
 with sudden aplomb (a moment before, she had been 
 ready to run), " but we wish to see Lady Killiow. 
 Will you announce us, please?" 
 
 Two hours later, when the sun had risen above the 
 trees, Sir George Dinham came riding up through 
 Damelioc Park. He too came to right a wrong, 
 having given his promise to Mr. Benny overnight, 
 lie rode slowly, pondering, On his way In; noted 
 the footprints of two children on the snow, except 
 by them untrodden ; marked how they wandered off 
 here and there toward the stream, but ever returned,
 
 236 SHINING FERRY 
 
 regained the way, and held on for Damelioc. He 
 wondered what they might mean. 
 
 Lady Killiow received him in her morning-room. 
 She wore a bonnet and a long cloak of sables, and 
 was obviously dressed for a drive. She rose from 
 before her writing-table, where she was sealing a 
 letter. 
 
 " I interrupt you ? " said Sir George as they shook 
 hands, and glancing out of the window he had a 
 glimpse of the heads of a pair of restless bays. 
 Unheard by him — the snow lying six inches deep 
 before the porch — Lady Killiow's carriage had come 
 round from the stables a minute after his arrival. 
 
 " But if I guess your errand," she said, " I was 
 merely about to forestall it. I am driving to 
 Bodmin." 
 
 "You knew nothing, then, of this poor old 
 creature's case ? " 
 
 " My friend, I hope that you too have only just 
 discovered it, or you would have warned me." 
 
 " I heard of it last night for the first time. 
 Rosewarne alone is responsible for the prosecu- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " He only." She nodded towards the letter on 
 the writing-table. " I have asked him to attend 
 here when I return, and explain himself. Mean- 
 while "— 
 
 " But what can you do ? " 
 
 " The poor soul is in prison." 
 
 " That is where I came to offer my help. The 
 Assizes are not over. The same judge who com- 
 mitted him has been delayed there for three days
 
 THE INTERCEUERS 237 
 
 by a nisi prius suit — an endless West Cornwall will 
 case." 
 
 "You did not suppose, surely, that this was 
 happening with any consent of mine?" 
 
 " No," Sir George answered slowly, " I did not. 
 But do you know, Lady Killiow, that, without any 
 consent of ours, you and I have nearly been in 
 litigation over this same wretched ferry?" He 
 smiled at her surprise. "Oh yes, I could help the 
 Radicals to make out a very good case against us ! " 
 
 " I learned to trust my old steward. It seems that 
 I have carried over my trust too carelessly to this son 
 of his, and with the less excuse because I dislike the 
 man. The fact is, I am getting old." 
 
 " May I say humbly that you defend yourself 
 before a far worse sinner in these matters? And 
 may I say, too, that your care for Damelioc and 
 its tenantry has always been quoted in my hearing 
 as exemplary ? " 
 
 " I am not defending myself. I have been to 
 blame, though," she added with a twinkle, " I do not 
 propose to confess this to my steward. I have been 
 bitterly to blame, and my first business at Bodmin 
 will be to ask this old man's pardon." 
 
 "And after?" 
 
 " He must be released, and at once. Can this be 
 done by withdrawing the suit? or must there be 
 delays?" 
 
 " I le must purge his offence, I fear, unless you can 
 persuade the judge to reconsider it. If I can help 
 you in this, I would beg for the privilege." 
 
 "Thank you, my friend. I was on the point of
 
 238 SHINING FERRY 
 
 asking what you offer. You had best leave your 
 horse here and take a seat in my carriage." 
 
 " But," said Sir George, as she moved to the door, 
 " you have not yet told me how you learned the news 
 — who was beforehand with me." 
 
 " You shall see." She crossed the corridor, and 
 softly opening a door, invited him to look within. 
 There, in the lofty panelled breakfast-room, at a 
 table reflected as a small white island in a sea 
 of polished floor, sat Myra and Clem replete and 
 laughing, unembarrassed by the splendid footman 
 who waited on them, and reckless that the huge 
 bunch of grapes at which they pulled was of 
 December's growing. 
 
 Sir George laughed too as he looked. " But, good 
 heavens ! " said he, remembering the footprints on 
 the drive, " they must have left home before day- 
 light ! " 
 
 " They started in the dead of night, so far as I can 
 gather. Eh ? What is it ? " she asked, turning upon 
 another footman, who had come briskly down the 
 corridor and halted behind her, obviously with a 
 message. 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne, my lady. He has just come in 
 by way of the stables. He has seen the carriage 
 waiting, but asks me to say that he will not detain 
 your ladyship a minute." 
 
 " He has come for the children, no doubt. Very 
 well ; I will see him in the morning-room." As the 
 man held open the door for her she motioned to Sir 
 George to precede her. " I shall defer discussing 
 Mr. Rosewarne's conduct with him. Eor the moment
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 239 
 
 we have to deal with its results, and you may wish to 
 ask him some questions." 
 
 Mr. Sam never committed himself to horseback, 
 but employed a light gig for his journeys to and 
 from Damelioc. The cold drive having reddened 
 his ears and lent a touch of blue to his nose, his 
 appearance this morning was more than usually un- 
 prepossessing. 
 
 " I will not detain your ladyship," he began, 
 repeating the message he had sent by the footman. 
 " Ah, Sir George Dinham ? Your servant, Sir George ! 
 My first and chief business was to recover my run- 
 aways, whom your ladyship has so kindly looked 
 after." 
 
 " You know why they came ? " asked Lady Killiow. 
 
 " To tell the truth, I have not yet had an oppor- 
 tunity to question them. Some freak of the girl's, 
 I should guess. The young teacher to whom I give 
 house-room informs me that they were excited last 
 night by an appearance of the Northern Lights — a 
 very fine display, he tells me. I regret that, being 
 asleep, I missed it. He suggested that the pair had 
 set out to explore the phenomenon ; and that, very 
 likely, is the explanation — more especially as their 
 footprints led me due northward. My housekeeper 
 tells me that Myra — the elder child — firmly believes 
 a pot of gold to be buried at the foot of every 
 rainbow. A singular pair, my lady ! and my late 
 father scarcely improved matters by allowing th 
 to run wild." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Mr. Rosewarne. Undoubtedly 
 they followed the Northern Lights; but their purpose
 
 240 SHINING FERRY 
 
 you will hardly guess. It was to intercede for an old 
 man of eighty, whom, it appears, I have been cruel 
 enough to lock up in prison." 
 
 Mr. Sam's face expressed annoyance and some- 
 thing more. 
 
 " I sincerely trust, my lady, they have not succeeded 
 in distressing you." 
 
 " I suppose I may thank Heaven, sir, that they at 
 least succeeded so far." 
 
 Her tone completely puzzled Mr. Sam, who 
 detected the displeasure beneath it, but in all 
 honesty could not decide whether she blamed him 
 or the children. 
 
 " A painful business, my lady. The poor man was 
 past his work — a nuisance to himself and to others. 
 These last scenes of our poor mortality — often, as it 
 seems to us (could we be the judges) so unduly 
 protracted — But some steps had to be taken. 
 The ferry was becoming a scandal. I felt called 
 upon to act, and to act firmly. If I may use the 
 expression, your ladyship's feelings in the matter 
 would naturally be those which do honour to your 
 ladyship's sex; they would be, shall I say — er" — 
 
 "Why not say 'womanly,' Mr. Rosewarne?" 
 
 " Ha, precisely — womanly. I did my best to spare 
 them." 
 
 "We will talk of that later. Just now, you will 
 please instruct us how best to release the poor man, 
 and at once. May I remind you that the horses are 
 taking cold ? " 
 
 " The horses ? " Mr. Sam stared from Lady 
 Killiow to Sir George. " Her ladyship doesn't tell
 
 THE INTERCEDERS 241 
 
 me that she was actually proposing to drive to 
 Bodmin ? " 
 
 " I start within five minutes." 
 
 " But it is useless ! " 
 
 " Useless ? " 
 
 " The man is dead." 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne " — 
 
 Mr. Sam drew a telegram from his pocket. " I 
 received this as I was leaving home. The governor 
 of the prison very kindly communicated with me as 
 soon as the office opened. The prisoner — as I heard 
 from the policeman who escorted him — collapsed 
 almost as soon as they admitted him. I telegraphed 
 at once to the governor, assuring him of my interest 
 in the case and requesting information. This is his 
 reply : ' Vro died three-thirty this morning: Doctor 
 supposes senile decay! It was considerate of him to 
 make this addition, for it will satisfy your ladyship 
 that we acted, though unwillingly, with the plainest 
 possible justification. The man was hopelessly past 
 his work." 
 
 Sir George, who had been staring out of window, 
 wheeled about abruptly, lifted his head, and gazed at 
 Mr. Sam for some twenty seconds with a wondering 
 interest. Then he turned to Lady Killiow. 
 
 "Shall I send back the carriage?" 
 
 "Thank you," she said; and he went out, with a 
 glance at her face which silently expressed many 
 things. 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne," she began, when they were alone, 
 " if I began to say what I think of this business, 
 a person of your instincts would at once fall to 
 iC
 
 242 SHINING FERRY 
 
 supposing that I shifted the blame on to your 
 shoulders, which is just the last thing in the world 
 I mean to do. But precisely because I am guilty, 
 and precisely because I accept responsibility for my 
 steward's actions, a steward who conceals his actions 
 is of no use to me. You are dismissed."
 
 "M 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 AN OUTBURST 
 
 " I saw the new moon late yestreen, 
 Wi' the auld moon in her arm." 
 
 ISS MARVIN, does 'yestreen' mean 'last 
 night ' ? " 
 " It does." 
 
 "Then I wish the fellow would say 'last night,'" 
 grumbled Master Calvin. " And how could the new 
 moon have the old moon in her arm ? " 
 
 Hester explained. 
 
 " But moons haven't arms." He pushed the book 
 away pettishly. " I hate this poetry ! Why can't you 
 teach me what I want ? " 
 
 " That," said Hester, "is just what I am trying to 
 discover. Will you tell me what you want?" 
 
 To her amazement, he bent his head down upon 
 his arms and broke into sobbing. " I don't know 
 what I want! Everyone hates me, and I — I hate 
 it all!" 
 
 Somehow, Hester — who had started by misliking 
 the child, and only with the gravest misgivings (yield- 
 ing to pressure from his father) had consented to 
 teach him in her span- hours — was beginning to pity 
 
 243
 
 244 SHINING FERRY 
 
 him. This new feeling, to be sure, suffered from 
 severe and constant checks ; for he was unamiable 
 to the last degree, and seldom awoke a spark of 
 liking but he killed it again, and within five minutes, 
 by doing or saying something odious. He differed 
 from other children, and differed unpleasantly. He 
 had taken the full tinge of his sanctimonious up- 
 bringing ; he was pharisaical, cruel at times, incurably 
 twisted by his father's creed that wrong becomes 
 right when committed by a pious person from pious 
 motives. (His mother had once destroyed a cat 
 because she found herself growing fond of it and 
 believed that a Christian's soul must be weaned of 
 all earthly affections.) He appealed to Hester's pity 
 because, with all this, he was unhappy. 
 
 She had been teaching him languidly and in- 
 attentively to-day, being preoccupied with a letter 
 in her pocket ; and to this letter, having set him to 
 learn his verses from Sir Patrick Spens, she let her 
 thoughts wander. It ran: — 
 
 " My dear Miss Marvin, — After much hesitation 
 I have decided to commit to writing a proposal which 
 has been ripening in my mind during our three 
 months' acquaintance. My age and my convictions 
 alike disincline me to set too much store on the 
 emotion men call 'love,' which in my experience is 
 illusory as the attractions provoking it are superficial. 
 But as a solitary man I have long sighed for the 
 blessings of Christian companionship, or a union 
 founded on mutual esteem and fruitful in well-doing. 
 While from the first not insensible to your charms
 
 AN OUTBURST 245 
 
 of person, I have allowed my inclination to grow 
 because I detected in you the superior graces of the 
 mind and a strength of character which could not be 
 other than sustaining to the man fortunate enough 
 to possess you for a helpmeet. In short, my dear 
 Miss Marvin, you would gratify me in the highest 
 degree by consenting to be Mrs. R. I am, as you 
 are probably aware, well-to-do. The circumstance of 
 my being a widower will not, I hope, weigh seriously 
 against this proposal in the mind of one who, while 
 retaining the personal attractions above mentioned, 
 may be reasonably supposed to have set aside the 
 romantic illusions of girlhood. Awaiting your reply, 
 which I trust may be favourable, I remain, yours 
 very truly, S. ROSEWARNE. 
 
 " P.S. — Your exceptional gifts in the handling of 
 children assure me that my son Calvin would receive 
 from you a care no less than motherly. He would 
 meet it, I feel equally sure, with a responsive 
 affection." 
 
 The tone of this letter made Hester tingle as if 
 some of its phrases had been thongs to scourge her. 
 
 Yet it must be answered. 
 
 That this odious man should have dared — and 
 yet for weeks she had seen it coming. Incredible as 
 she found it that a man from whom every nerve of 
 her body recoiled with loathing should complacently 
 ignore the signs, should complacently persevere in 
 assuming himself to be agreeable and in pressing 
 that assumption, she had to admit that the offer did
 
 246 SHINING FERRY 
 
 not take her wholly by surprise. What bruised her 
 was the insufferable obtuseness of the wording. How 
 was it possible for a human being to sit down in good 
 faith and pen such sentences without guessing that 
 they hurt or insulted ? 
 
 Nevertheless she blessed the impulse which had 
 prompted him to write ; for in writing he could be 
 answered. All day she had gone in dread of meet- 
 ing him face to face. 
 
 Once or twice, while she pondered her answer, she 
 had glanced up at the child, as if he could explain 
 his father. What fatal unhappy gift had they both, 
 by which in all that they said or did they earned 
 aversion ? 
 
 When the child broke down, she arose with a pang 
 of self-reproach, crossed to his chair, and laid a hand 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 " Listen to me, Calvin," she said. " You have told 
 me one thing you want : you want people to like 
 instead of disliking you. Well, the quickest way is 
 to find out what they want, and do it, forgetting your- 
 self; and then, perhaps quite suddenly, you will wake 
 up and discover not only that people like you already, 
 but that you yourself are full of a happiness you can't 
 explain." 
 
 The gust of his sobbing grew calmer by degrees. 
 He lifted his head a little, but not to look her in 
 the face. 
 
 " Is that puzzling to you ? " she asked. " Well, 
 then, just give it a small trial in practice, and see 
 how it works. I want you, for instance, to learn 
 those verses. You don't like them ; but by learning
 
 AN OUTBURST 247 
 
 them you will please me, and you want to please me. 
 Try now ! " 
 
 He pulled the book towards him and bent over it, 
 his head between his hands. After three or four 
 minutes he stood up, red-eyed and a little defiant — 
 
 "'I saw The new moon late yestreen, 
 Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; 
 And if we gang to sea, master, 
 I fear we'll come to harm.' 
 
 They hadna sail'd a league, a league, 
 A league but barely ane" — 
 
 Hester listened with eyes withdrawn, in delicacy 
 avoiding to meet his tear-reddened ones ; and just 
 then from the upper floor a scream rang through the 
 house — a child's scream. 
 
 Master Calvin heard it, and broke off with a grin. 
 
 " That will be Myra," he announced. " She's catch- 
 ing it ! " 
 
 Had she been less distraught, Hester might have 
 marked and sighed over his sudden relapse into 
 odiousness. But she had risen with a white face ; 
 for scream followed scream overhead, and the sound 
 tortured her. 
 
 " You don't tell me " — she began, putting up both 
 hands to her cars. " No, no — there has been some 
 accident ! The poor child is calling for help ! " 
 
 She ran out of the parlour, up the two flights of 
 stairs and along a dark winding corridor, still guided 
 by the screams. At the end of the corridor she 
 found Susannah, pale, wringing her hands, outside a 
 door which, however, she made no attempt to enter. 
 
 "Oh, miss, he's killing her!"
 
 248 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Is the door locked ? " panted Hester, at the same 
 time flinging her weight against it as she turned the 
 handle. It flew open, and she confronted — not Myra, 
 but Mr. Sam. 
 
 He stood between her and the window with an 
 arm uplifted and in his hand a leathern strap ; and 
 while she recoiled for an instant, the strap descended 
 across the naked back and shoulders of little Clem, 
 who drooped under it with bowed knees, helpless, his 
 arms extended, his wrists bound together and lashed 
 to the bed-post. The child made no sound. The 
 piercing screams came not from him, but from an 
 inner room — Myra's bedroom — and from behind a 
 closed door. 
 
 " You shall not ! " Hester flung herself forward, 
 shielding the child from another blow. " Oh, what 
 wickedness are you doing! What horrible wicked- 
 ness ! " 
 
 Mr. Sam had raised his arm again. The man 
 indeed seemed to be transported with passion, with 
 sheer lust of cruelty. It is doubtful if he had heard 
 her enter. His dark face twitched distortedly in the 
 fading light. 
 
 "I'll teach him— I'll teach him!" he panted. 
 
 " You shall not ! " Hester, covering the child's 
 limp body, could not see his face, but her eyes fell 
 on his little shirt, ripped from neckband to flap, and 
 lying on the floor as it had been torn from his body 
 and tossed aside. She called to Susannah, still 
 lingering doubtfully outside upon the mat, and 
 pointed to the door behind Mr. Sam. Susannah 
 plucked up courage, stepped across and turned the
 
 AN OUTBURST 249 
 
 key. An instant later, like a small wild beast un- 
 caged, Myra came springing and crouched beside 
 her brother, facing his tormentor with blazing eyes. 
 
 Hester, catching sight of the housekeeper's scissors 
 which Susannah wore at her waist, motioned to her 
 to cut the cords binding Clem's wrists. Mr. Sam 
 made no effort to oppose her, but stood panting, with 
 one hand resting on the dressing-table. Susannah 
 managed indeed to detach the scissors, but held them 
 out falteringly, as though in sheer terror declining all 
 responsibility. 
 
 " Give them to me, then." 
 
 But as Susannah held them out Myra leapt up and, 
 snatching them, dashed upon her uncle. His hand 
 still rested palm downwards on the dressing-table, 
 and she struck at it. Undoubtedly the child would 
 have stabbed it through — for, strange to say, he 
 made no effort to fend her off or to avoid the stroke 
 — had not Hester run in time to push her smartly by 
 the shoulder in the very act of striking. As it was 
 the scissor-point drove into the table, missing him 
 by a bare two inches. Then and then only he lifted 
 his hand and stared at it stupidly. He seemed about 
 to speak, but turned with a click of the throat — a 
 queer dry sound, as though a sudden thirst parched 
 him — and walked heavily from the room. Hester 
 gazed after him and had: at the SClSSOrS Oil tin 
 dressing-table. She was reaching forward to pick 
 them up when a cry from Susannah bade her hurry. 
 I lem had fainted, his legs doubled beneath him, his 
 head falling horribly back from his upstretched arms, 
 which still, like ropes, held him fast to the bed-post.
 
 250 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Twenty minutes later Hester descended the stairs. 
 Clem was in bed with his sister's arms about him ; 
 and Myra's last look at parting had been one of 
 dumb gratitude, pitifully asking pardon for old 
 jealousies, old misunderstandings. At any other 
 time Hester would have rejoiced over the winning 
 of a friend. 
 
 But the sight of the weals on Clem's back had for 
 the moment killed all feeling in her but disgust and 
 horror. So deep was her disgust that the sight of 
 Master Calvin, whom she surprised in the act of 
 listening outside the door, scarcely ruffled it afresh. 
 So complete was her horror that it left no room for 
 astonishment when, reaching the foot of the stairs, 
 she found Mr. Sam himself lingering in the hall, 
 apparently awaiting her. 
 
 She walked past him with set face. All the 
 smooth, pietistic phrases of his letter rang a chime 
 in her brain, to be retorted upon him as soon as he 
 dared to speak. 
 
 But he did not speak. He looked up, as if await- 
 ing her ; took half a step forward ; then drew aside 
 and let her pass. She went by with set face, not 
 sparing a look for him. In the open air she drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 Above all things she desired to consult with Peter 
 Benny. In this there was nothing surprising, for 
 everyone in trouble went to Peter Benny. He him- 
 self — honest man — had to admit that the number 
 of confidences which came his way were, no doubt, 
 extraordinary. He explained it on the simple ground
 
 AN OUTBURST 251 
 
 that he wrote letters for seamen and made it a rule 
 never to divulge their secrets. " Not that anyone 
 would dream of it," he added ; " but my secrecy, 
 happening to be professional, gets its credit adver- 
 tised." 
 
 It appeared that these professional duties were 
 heavier than usual to-night. At any rate, when 
 Hester reached the little cottage by the quayside, 
 it was to find that he had made a hasty tea and 
 departed for the office. In her urgency, after merely 
 telling Mrs. Benny that she would be back in a few 
 minutes, Hester ran down the court to the office, 
 tapped hurriedly at the door, and pushed it open. 
 
 Within, with his back towards her, erect and naked 
 to the waist under the rays of an oil lamp swinging 
 from the beam, stood a young man. The light fall- 
 ing on his firm shoulders and the muscles along his 
 spine showed the gleaming flesh tattooed with inter- 
 woven patterns, delicate as lace-work ; and in the 
 midst, reaching from shoulder-blade to shoulder- 
 blade, a bright blue tree with a cross above, and 
 beneath it, the figures of Adam and Eve. 
 
 As she drew back, Mr. Benny, on the far side 
 of the office, raised his eyes from a table over which 
 he bent to dip a needle in a saucer of Indian ink ; and 
 at the same moment the young man under the lamp, 
 suddenly aware of a visitor, faced about with a shy 
 laugh. It was Tom Trcvarthen. I fester, with a short 
 cry of dismay, backed into the darkness, shutting tin- 
 door as she retreated. When Mr. Benny returned 
 to supper he forbore from alluding to the incident
 
 252 SHINING FERRY 
 
 until Hester — her trouble still unconfided — shook 
 hands with him for the night. 
 
 "I've heard," he said, "folks laugh at sailors for 
 tattooing themselves. But 'tis done in case they're 
 drowned, that their bodies may be known ; and, if 
 you look at that, 'tis a sacrament surely." 
 
 That night Hester awoke from a terrifying dream ; 
 and still, as she dreamed again, she saw a lash 
 descending on a child's naked back, leaving at each 
 stroke the mark of a cross interwoven with a strange 
 and delicate pattern ; and at each stroke heard a girl's 
 voice which screamed, " It is a sacrament ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 
 
 EARLY next morning, having bound Mr. Benny 
 to secrecy, she told him the whole story. At 
 first his face merely expressed horror; but 
 by and by his forehead lost its puckers. When she 
 had done, his first comment took her fairly aback. 
 
 "Ay," said he, "I'd half guessed it a'ready. The 
 poor creature's afflicted. It don't stand in nature for 
 a man to deal around cruelty as he's been doing 
 unless his brain is touched." 
 
 "Afflicted is he?" Hester answered indignantly. 
 " I'm afraid I keep all my pity for those he afflicts." 
 
 "Then you do wrong," replied Mr. Benny, with 
 much gravity. "That man wants help if ever a man 
 did." 
 
 " He will get none from me, then," she said, and 
 flushed, remembering the proposal in her pocket. 
 " I won't endure the sight of him, after yesterday's 
 work. I have written a letter resigning my teacher- 
 ship." 
 
 'That isn't like you, somehow." Mr. Benny stood 
 musing. 
 
 " Of course," she went on hastily, " I don't give my 
 real reasons. The letter is addressed to you as Clerk,
 
 254 SHINING FERRY 
 
 and you will have to read it to the Board. I am 
 ready to fill the post until another teacher can be 
 found." 
 
 "It seemed to me, some while ago, that Mr. 
 Samuel had a fancy for you. Maybe I'm wrong, 
 my dear ; but you won't mind my speaking frankly. 
 And if I'm right, and he has begun pestering you, 
 I can't blame you for resigning. The man isn't 
 safe." 
 
 His look carried interrogation at once shy and 
 fatherly. She forced herself to meet his eyes and 
 nod the answer which her cheeks already published. 
 
 " It is hateful," she murmured. " Yes, he asked me 
 to marry him." 
 
 " I told you he was afflicted," said Mr. Benny, still 
 with simple seriousness ; then, catching a sudden 
 twinkle in her eyes, " Eh ? What did I say ? My 
 dear, I didn't mean it that way ! " 
 
 Mr. Benny had judged at once more charitably and 
 more correctly than Hester. Had she looked up 
 yesterday when she passed Mr. Sam at the foot 
 of the stairs, she might have guessed the truth from 
 his face. 
 
 The man was afflicted, and knew it ; had suddenly 
 discovered it, and was afraid of himself — for the 
 moment, abjectly afraid. All his life he had been 
 nursing a devil, feeding it on religion, clothing it in 
 self-righteousness, so carefully touching up its toilet 
 that it passed for saint rather than devil — especially 
 in his own eyes, trained as they were in self-deception. 
 For every action, mean or illiberal or tricky or down-
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 255 
 
 right cruel, he had a justificatory text ; for his few 
 defeats a constant salve in the thought that his 
 vanquishers were carnal men, sons of Belial, and 
 would find themselves in hell some day. He was 
 Dives or Lazarus as occasion served. If a plan 
 miscarried, the Lord was chastening him ; if, as 
 oftener happened, it went prosperously, the Lord was 
 looking after His own ; but always the plan itself, 
 being his plan, was certainly righteous, because he 
 was a righteous man. A good tree could not bring 
 forth evil fruit. 
 
 But all this while the devil had been growing fat 
 and strong ; and now on a sudden it had burst forth 
 like a giant, mad, uncontrollable, flinging away dis- 
 guise, a devil for all to see. There was no text, even 
 in Solomon, which could be stretched to excuse tying 
 up a small blind child and flogging him with a belt. 
 He had done a thing for which men go to prison. 
 Worse, he had not been far from a crime for which 
 the law puts men to death. In his rage he had been 
 absolutely blind, each blow deadening prudence, call- 
 ing for another blow. If Hester Marvin had not run 
 in, where would he have ended? 
 
 It happened to him now as it has happened to 
 many a man fed upon conventional religion and 
 accustomed to walk an aisle in public and eminent 
 godliness. In the moment that he overbalanced 
 public approval his whole edifice crumbled and 
 collapsed, leaving him no stay. He was down from 
 his eminence — down with the wild beasts ; and among 
 them the worst was the wild beast within him. 
 
 He had not philosophy enough even to render
 
 256 SHINING FERRY 
 
 account with himself why he hated the small blind 
 child. One reason, and perhaps the chief, was that 
 he had already injured Clem ; another, that Clem 
 stood all unconsciously between his conscience and 
 his son Calvin. In his fashion Mr. Sam loved his 
 son, doomed to suffer, if the truth should ever be 
 known, for his father's bastardy. But — to his credit 
 perhaps — Mr. Sam forgot all excuses in sheer terror 
 of himself; terror less of what he had done than of 
 what he might hereafter do. 
 
 In panic of that devil he had placed himself in 
 Hester's way, hoping against hope that she might 
 help. He had built some hopes on her, and now in 
 an hour or two all these hopes were merged in a 
 desperate appeal to be saved from himself. He 
 almost forgot that he had written asking her to be 
 his wife ; he could think only that she might possibly 
 be his salvation. But Hester had passed him by 
 without a glance. After this, meaning no cruelty 
 at all, but merely from the instinct of self-preservation 
 (than which nothing is crueller), he did, as will be seen, 
 the cruellest deed of his life. 
 
 Mr. Benny was one of those rare souls who never 
 dream of asking a favour for themselves, but can 
 be shamelessly importunate on behalf of a fellow- 
 creature. On receipt of Hester's resignation, which 
 she submitted to him first in private and then sent to 
 him formally through the post, he panted up the hill 
 to seek an interview with Sir George Dinham. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Sir George ; " it happens oddly 
 that I was on the point of sending for you for the
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 257 
 
 first time ; and yet you have been my tenant for close 
 upon twenty years, I believe ? " 
 
 Mr. Benny might have seized the occasion to urge 
 that his roof leaked and the quay wall beneath his 
 office badly needed repointing. For years he had 
 submissively relieved Sir George of these and other 
 repairs. But he had come to engage Sir George's 
 interest for Miss Marvin, a young person who had 
 just thrown up her position as schoolmistress across 
 the water, in circumstances perfectly honourable to 
 her. Sir George, perhaps, would not press to know 
 what those circumstances were ; but Mr. Benny had 
 chanced to hear that the Matron of the Widows' 
 Almshouses had earned her pension and was resign- 
 ing, and he ventured to recommend Miss Marvin for 
 the post. 
 
 "And that again is odd," said Sir George, "for 
 I was wondering if the situation would be agreeable 
 to her." 
 
 Mr. Benny could scarcely believe his ears. 
 
 " But I think," pursued Sir George, " we had better 
 take one thing at a time ; and I wish to get the first 
 job off my hands, because, strictly speaking, it is not 
 my business. Lady Killiow (as you may have 
 heard) requires a new steward, and has commissioned 
 me to choose him for her. I had thought of you, Mr. 
 Benny." 
 
 "Sir George ! " 
 
 " Why not? You were clerk to the late Mr. Rose- 
 wame and enjoyed his confidence, I believe?" 
 
 " Sir George — Sir George!" Mr. lirnny could only 
 repeat with stammering lips. If, a while ago, he 
 '7
 
 258 SHINING FERRY 
 
 could not believe his ears, just now he felt as if the 
 sky were tumbling about them. 
 
 " There, my friend, go home and think it over. If 
 you think well of the offer, be at the ferry at nine 
 o'clock to-morrow. I will meet you there with the 
 dogcart, and we can talk matters over on our way 
 to Damelioc. From Damelioc, after your interview 
 with Lady Killiow, we will drive straight to Bodmin ; 
 for I think you may be able to guess the first task 
 she will lay upon you as her steward." 
 
 But Mr. Benny was too far bewildered. 
 
 " She will ask you, if I am not mistaken, to make 
 arrangements for bringing home old Nicholas Vro's 
 body and burying him where, as he would have said, 
 he belongs to lie — in his own parish churchyard. 
 There are no relatives to be consulted ? " 
 
 " Neither chick nor child, kith nor kin, Sir George." 
 
 " God forgive me, I had come near saying ' so 
 much the better.' Lady Killiow is a proud woman, 
 as you know, and of a pride that would rejoice in 
 bearing the fullest blame and making fullest amends. 
 But her friends can only be glad to get this scandal 
 over and as quietly as may be. I have written for 
 the necessary order." 
 
 Once before we have seen Mr. Benny tempted to 
 keep a secret from his wife. This time he would 
 have told, but could not. He sat down to tea with a 
 choking breast and a heart so big within him that it 
 left no room for food. He strove to eat, but could 
 get no morsel past his lips. At one moment the 
 news seemed to bubble up within him, and his mouth
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 259 
 
 opened to shout it aloud ; the next, his courage failed 
 at his own vaunting thoughts, and he reached a hand 
 down to the table-leg, to " touch wood," as humble 
 men do to avert Nemesis if by chance they have let 
 slip a boastful word. Once he laughed outright, 
 wildly, at nothing whatever. 
 
 Nuncey set down the teapot and eyed her parent 
 with a puzzled frown. That frown had sat too often 
 on her cheerful face during the past three months. 
 In truth, Mr. Benny as a regrater fell disastrously 
 short of success, being prone to sell at monstrous 
 overweights, which ate up the profits. When Nuncey 
 at length forbade him to touch the scales, he gave 
 away apples to every child that chose to edge around 
 the tail of the cart. 
 
 "There's something wrong with father to-night," 
 she said. " He's like a thing hurried-in-mind. What's 
 up with 'ee, my dear? — is it verses?" She paused 
 with a sudden dark suspicion. " I see'd William 
 Badgery walkin' after you down the street. Don't 
 tell me you've let 'en persuade you into buying that 
 lot of eggs he was preachin' up for fresh ? for, if you 
 have, I get no shoes this Christmas — that's all. 
 Fresh? He've been salting them down these three 
 months, against the Christmas prices, and no size 
 in 'em to start with. I wouldn't sell 'em for sixpence 
 the dozen." 
 
 "Shoes?" Good Lord, what a question these 
 boots and shoes had been for all these years ! Never 
 a Saturday came round (it seemed to him) but one 
 or other <<f the family wanted soleing or heeling. 
 And henceforth they could all have shoes to their
 
 260 SHINING FERRY 
 
 heart's content — and frocks — and new suits — and 
 meat on the table without stint — 
 
 lie set down his cup and rose hurriedly. In the 
 act of pushing back his chair he met his wife's eyes. 
 They were watching him with anxious concern — not 
 with apparent love ; but he alone knew what love lay 
 behind that look which once or twice of late he had 
 surprised in them. His own filled with sudden tears. 
 No, he could not tell her now. To-night, perhaps, 
 when he and she were alone, he would tell her, as so 
 often he had told his worries and listened to hers. 
 He dashed his frayed cuff across his eyes and fairly 
 bolted from the room. 
 
 " It's about Nicky Vro that he's troublin'," said 
 Mrs. Benny. " Terrible soft-hearted he is ; but you 
 ought to know your father better by this time than to 
 upset 'en so." 
 
 An hour later word came to Hester — it was Shake 
 who brought it — that Mr. Benny would be glad to see 
 her in the office. She obeyed at once, albeit with 
 some trepidation when she came to mount the steps 
 and tap at the door. She had learnt, however, from 
 Nuncey that certain nights were set aside for tattoo- 
 ing. Doubtless this would not be one of them. 
 
 Four seamen sat within by the stove and under 
 the light of the swinging lamp, smoking, patiently 
 awaiting their turn. In the fog of tobacco smoke, 
 which almost took Hester's breath away, they rose 
 politely and saluted her. Big, shy boys they seemed 
 to her, with the whites of their eyes extraordinarily 
 clear against their swarthy complexions. Somehow
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 261 
 
 she felt at home with them instantly, and no more 
 afraid than if they had been children in her school. 
 
 One of them called Mr. Benny from the tiny 
 inner office, or cupboard, where he conducted his 
 confidential business, and the little man came run- 
 ning out in a flurry with one hand grasping a hand- 
 kerchief and the other nervously thrust in his 
 dishevelled hair. 
 
 " You will forgive me, my dear, for sending ? The 
 truth is, I am at my wits' end to-night and cannot 
 concentrate myself. I have heard news to-day — no, 
 nothing to distress me — on the contrary " — He gazed 
 round helplessly. " It has upset me, though. I was 
 wondering if you will be very kind and help me? " 
 
 " Help you ? " echoed Hester. " Oh, Mr. Benny, 
 you surely don't ask me to write your letters for 
 you ! 
 
 " Not if you would find it distasteful, my dear." 
 
 " But I don't know ; I assure you I haven't an idea 
 how to do it ! " 
 
 " You would find it come easy, for that matter." 
 Mr. Benny drew a quill pen from behind his right 
 ear, eyed its point dejectedly for a moment, and 
 replaced it. " But, of course, if you feel like that, 
 we'll say no more about it, and I'm sorry to have 
 troubled you." 
 
 " If it's merely writing clown from dictation " — 
 
 "You will find it a little more than that" Mr. 
 Benny admitted. 
 
 I lesler looked around on the faces of the seamen. 
 They said nothing ; they even watched her with 
 sympathy, as though, while dumbly backing Mr,
 
 202 SHINING FERRY 
 
 Benny's petition, they felt him to be asking too 
 much ; yet she divined that they were disappointed. 
 
 " I will try," she said with sudden resolve, and 
 their approving murmur at once rewarded her. 
 " Only you must be patient, and forgive my mis- 
 takes." ' 
 
 " That's a very good lass," said one of them aloud, 
 as Mr. Benny shook her by the hand and led her 
 triumphantly to the little inner office. Hester heard 
 the words, and in spite of nervousness was glad that 
 she had chosen to be brave. 
 
 The inner office contained a desk, a stool, and a 
 deal chair. These, with a swinging lamp, a shelf of 
 books, and a Band of Hope Almanack, completed 
 its furniture. Indeed, it had room for no more, and 
 its narrow dimensions were dwarfed just now by an 
 enormous black-bearded seaman seated in the chair 
 by the window, which stood open to the darkness. 
 Although the month was December, the wind blew 
 softly from the south-west, and night had closed in 
 with a fine warm drizzle of rain. Beyond the window 
 the riding-lights of the vessels at anchor shone across 
 the gently heaving tide. 
 
 The black-bearded seaman made a motion to rise, 
 but realising that this would seriously displace the 
 furniture, contented himself with a " Good-evening, 
 miss," and dropped back in his seat. 
 
 "Good-evening." answered Hester. "Mr. Benny 
 here has asked me to take his place. I hope you 
 don't mind?" 
 
 " Lord bless you, I like it." 
 
 " But I shall make a poor hand of it, I'm afraid."
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 263 
 
 The man eyed her solemnly for five or six seconds, 
 slowly turned the quid of tobacco in his cheek, and 
 spat out of window. " We'll get along famous," he 
 said. 
 
 " He likes the window open," explained Mr. Benny, 
 " because" — 
 
 " I see." Hester nodded. 
 
 " But I'll run and fetch a cloak for you." Without 
 waiting for an answer, Mr. Benny hurried from the 
 office. 
 
 To be deserted thus was more than Hester had 
 bargained for, and for a moment she felt helplessly 
 dismayed. A sheet of paper, half- covered with 
 writing, lay on the desk, and she put out a hand 
 for it. 
 
 "Is this your letter? Perhaps you'll allow me to 
 read it and see how far you and Mr. Benny have 
 gone." 
 
 " That's the way. Only you mustn' give me no 
 credit for it : I sits and looks on. ' Never take a 
 hand in a business you don't know' — that's my 
 motto." 
 
 Hester wished devoutly that it had also been hers. 
 She picked up the paper and read — 
 
 " DEAR WIFE, — This comes hoping to find you in 
 health as it leaves me at present, and the children 
 hearty. We made a good passage, and arrived at 
 Troy on the 14th inst., a romantic little harbour 
 picturesquely situated on the south coast of Cornwall. 
 Once a flourishing port, second only to London and 
 Bristol, and still retaining in its ivy-clad fort some
 
 2G4 SHINING FERRY 
 
 vestiges of its former glories, it requires the eye of 
 imagination to summon back the days when (as Hals 
 tells us) it manned and sent forth more than forty 
 ships to the siege of Calais, A.D. 1347" — 
 
 Hester glanced at her client dubiously. 
 
 " That's all right, ain't it ? " he asked. 
 
 " Ye— es." 
 
 " Far as I remember, it tallies with the last letter 
 he fixed up for me. Something about 'grey old 
 walls ' there was, too." 
 
 " Yes, that comes two sentences below — 
 
 "Confronted with these evidences of decay, the 
 visitor instinctively exclaims to himself, ' If these 
 grey old walls could speak, what a tale might they 
 not unfold ! "— 
 
 "So he've put that in again? There's what you 
 might call a sameness about Benny, though he do 
 write different to anybody else." 
 
 " And here are more dates, and an epitaph from 
 one of the tombstones in the churchyard ! Indeed, 
 Mr."— 
 
 " Salt. Tobias Salt— and by natur'." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Salt, I can't write a letter like this. 
 To begin with, I haven't the knowledge." 
 
 " The Lord forbid ! " 
 
 " But I suppose your wife likes to read about these 
 things ? " 
 
 " She can't read a word, bless you. She gets the 
 parson to spell it out to her, or the seamen's mis- 
 sionary. Yarmouth our home is."
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 265 
 
 " She likes to hear about them, then ? " 
 " What ? Sarah ? Lord love ye, miss, you should 
 see the woman ! " Mr. Salt chuckled heavily, and 
 wound up by sending a squirt of tobacco-juice out 
 into darkness. " Mother of eight children, she is, 
 and makes 'em toe the mark at school and Sunday 
 school. A woman like that don't bother about grey 
 old walls." 
 
 " You are proud of her, I see." 
 
 " Ought to be, I reckon. Why, to-day she can pick 
 up two three-gallon pitchers o' water and heft 'em 
 along for a mile and more without turning a hair." 
 " And the children ? Plow old are they ? " 
 " Eldest just turned eleven." 
 " Why, then he must be able to read ? " 
 " 'Tisn' a he, 'tis a her. Ay, I reckon 'Melia Jane 
 should read well before this." 
 
 Hester took a fresh sheet of paper and began to 
 write. " Listen to this, please," she said after a few 
 sentences, " and tell me if it will do — 
 
 "DEAR WIFE, — This comes hoping to find you in 
 health, as it leaves me at present, and the children 
 hearty. I am sending this from Troy, and I daresay 
 you will take it to some friend to read; but tell 
 Amelia Jane, with my love, that in future she shall 
 read her father's letters to you. She must be getting 
 a scholar by this time ; and if there's anything she 
 can't explain, why you can take it to a friend after- 
 wards. We reached this port last Tuesday (the 14th) 
 after a good passage — 
 
 " Xow tell me about your pa ;age, please."
 
 2GG SHINING FERRY 
 
 At first Mr. Salt could only tell her that the 
 passage had been a good one, as passages go. But 
 by feeding him with a suggestion or two, as men feed 
 a pump with a little water to make it work, by and 
 by she found herself listening to information in a 
 flood. Now and then she interposed a question, 
 asking mainly about his wife and the home at Yar- 
 mouth. She had picked up her pen again, and he, 
 absorbed in his confidences, did not perceive at what 
 a rate she was making it travel over the paper. 
 
 The door opened, and Mr. Benny reappeared with 
 a shawl on his arm. He glanced around nervously. 
 " Mr. Salt, Mr. Salt ! I put it to you, this isn't quite 
 fair. A fine talk I can hear you're having; but our 
 friends outside are getting impatient, and want to 
 know when you'll let Miss Marvin begin." 
 
 " All right, boss. I've had a yarn here that's worth 
 all the money. Here's your shilling for it, and the 
 letter can stand over till to-morrow." 
 
 " But I've written it ! " Hester exclaimed. 
 
 " Written it ! " Mr. Salt's jaw dropped in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " I don't know if it will do. Shall I read it 
 over ? " 
 
 "Well, but this beats conjuring!" The reading 
 ended, Mr. Salt slapped his massive thigh. 
 
 " You have done very well, my dear," said Mr. 
 Benny ; " very well indeed. You have caught, as I 
 might say, the note. Now I myself have great 
 difficulty in being literary and at the same time 
 catching the note." 
 
 There was something in the little man's confession
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 2G7 
 
 — so modest, so generous withal — which drew tears 
 to her eyes, though her own elation may have had 
 some share in them. 
 
 " Though there's one thing she've forgotten," said 
 Mr. Salt, with a twinkle. " My poor Sarah will get 
 shock enough over this letter as 'tis ; but she'll get a 
 worse one if we leave out the money order." 
 
 The order having been made out in form, ready 
 for him to take to the post office, Mr. Salt bade 
 farewell. They could hear him extolling, on his 
 way through the outer office, the talent of the operator 
 within. 
 
 " I feel like a dentist ! " whispered Hester, turning 
 to Mr. Benny with a smile. The little man was 
 looking at her wistfully. 
 
 "Shall I call in the next?" he asked. "I am 
 afraid, my dear, you are finding this a longer job 
 than you bargained for." 
 
 " But I am enjoying it," she protested. " That is, 
 if — Mr. Benny, you are not annoyed by his foolish 
 praises ? " 
 
 " My dear," he answered gravely, " they say that 
 all literary persons are jealous. If I were jealous it 
 would not be because Mr. Salt praised you, but 
 because my own sense tells me that you do better 
 than I what 1 have been doing for twenty years." 
 
 "If you feel like that, I won't write another letter," 
 declared I [ester. 
 
 "That would be very foolish, my dear. And now 
 I will tell you another thing. Suppose thai this 
 discovery hurt me a little, yet see how good God is 
 in keeping back all these years until a moment when
 
 208 SHINING FERRY 
 
 my heart happens to be so full of good news that it 
 forgets the soreness in a moment ; and again, how 
 wise in gently correcting and reminding me of 
 weakness when I might be puffing myself up and 
 believing that all my good fortune came of my own 
 merit." 
 
 " What is your good news, dear Mr. Benny ? " 
 
 " You shall hear later on when I have told my wife." 
 
 More than an hour later, having dismissed her 
 clients (for the last of whom she had to compose a 
 love-letter, the first she had written in her life), Hester 
 stepped across to the cottage to announce that her 
 work was over and ask if she might now turn down 
 the lamps and rake out the stove. 
 
 The Bennys' kitchen at first glance was unin- 
 habited ; and yet, as she opened the door, she had 
 heard voices within. Dropping her eyes to a lower 
 level, she halted on the threshold and would have 
 withdrawn without noise. In the penumbra beyond 
 the circle of the lamp and the white tablecloth Mr. 
 and Mrs. Benny, Nuncey, and Shake were kneeling 
 by their chairs on the limeash, giving thanks. 
 
 While Hester hesitated, the little man lifted his 
 head, and, catching sight of her, sprang to his feet. 
 " Step ye in, my dear, and join with us ! For you, 
 too, have news to hear and be thankful for." 
 
 " But tell me your own good news and let me first 
 be thankful for that." 
 
 " Do'ee really feel like that towards us?" asked 
 Nuncey, rising and coming forward with joy and 
 eager love in her eyes.
 
 MR. BENNY GETS PROMOTION 269 
 
 " I ought to, surely, after these months of 
 kindness." 
 
 " Well, then — but first of all I must kiss 'ee, you 
 dear thing ! — well, then, Dad's been offered Damelioc 
 stewardship, and you're to be Mistress of the Widows' 
 Houses, and we're all going to be rich as Creases for 
 ever and ever, Amen ! " 
 
 " Croesus, my dear — besides, we're going to be 
 nothing of the sort," protested her father. 
 
 Nuncey swept down upon him, caught him in her 
 strong embrace, implanted a sound kiss on the top of 
 his head, and held him at arms' length with a hand 
 on either shoulder. 
 
 "You're a dear little well-to-do father, and the 
 best in the world. But oh ! you've come nigh 
 breaking my heart these three months — for a worse 
 rcgrater there never was, an' couldn' be ! " 
 
 " Upon my word," said Mr. Benny, glancing over 
 her shoulder at Hester with a twinkle, " I seem to 
 be getting good fortune with a heap of chastening."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 
 
 THE post of " Mistress " to the Widows' Houses 
 was a somewhat singular one. The hospital 
 itself had been founded in 1634 by an an- 
 cestor of Sir George Dinham's, and dedicated to St. 
 Peter, as a retreat for eleven poor women, widows of 
 husbands drowned at sea. From a narrow cobbled 
 lane, behind the parish church and in the shadow of 
 its tower, you passed into a quadrangle, two sides of 
 which were formed by the lodgings, twelve in number 
 (the twelfth occupied by the caretaker, or Mistress), the 
 other two by the wash-house and store-buildings. In 
 the centre of this courtyard stood a leaden pump, 
 approached by four pebbled paths between radiating 
 beds of flowers — Provence roses, Madonna lilies, and 
 old perennials and biennials such as honesty, sweet- 
 william, snapdragon, the pink and white everlasting 
 pea, with bushes of fuchsia, southernwood, and rose- 
 mary. Along the first floor of the alms-buildings 
 ran a deep open gallery, or upstairs cloister, where 
 in warm weather the old women sat and knitted or 
 gossiped in the shade. 
 
 The rule restricting admission to the widows of 
 drowned mariners had been gradually relaxed during 
 
 270
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 271 
 
 the last fifty years, and was now a dead letter ; aged 
 spinsters even, such as Aunt Butson, being received 
 in default of applicants with better title. Also Sir 
 George's father, having once on a time been called 
 upon to depose a caretaker for ill-using the inmates, 
 had replaced her by a gentlewoman ; and thinking 
 to safeguard them in future by increasing the dignity 
 of the post, had rebuilt and enlarged the new Mistress's 
 lodgings, and increased her salary by endowment to 
 eighty pounds per annum. 
 
 All this Sir George explained very delicately to 
 Hester, on the morning of Nicky Vro's funeral, having 
 called at the school to seek an interview on his way 
 back from the churchyard. 
 
 " But I am not a decayed gentlewoman," Hester 
 objected ; " at least, not yet. I shall be standing in 
 the way of someone who really wants this post, while 
 I am strong and able to earn my living. Also — 
 please do not think me ungrateful or conceited — 
 to teach is my calling, and I take a pride in it." 
 
 " From all I hear, you have a right to take pride 
 in it. But may I say that these objections occurred 
 to me and that I have a scheme for removing them — 
 a very happy scheme, if you will help. Now, in the 
 first place, will you put the personal question out 
 of sight and consider my scheme on its merits ? And 
 next, will you, in advising me, take account of my 
 ignorance ? " 
 
 I [ester smiled. " I know," she said, " that kindness 
 can be cunning. 1 am going to be on my guard." 
 
 " Well, but listen at any rate," he pleaded, with an 
 eager stammer. " Won't you agree with me that the
 
 272 SHINING FERRY 
 
 education you give these children here is dreadfully 
 wasteful ? " 
 
 She glanced at him keenly. " If you are taking 
 the ordinary ratepayer's view " — she began. 
 
 " I am not taking the ordinary ratepayer's view, 
 except to this extent — that I think the ratepayers' 
 and taxpayers' money should be spent to the best 
 advantage. But is it ? — either here or in any parish 
 in England ? " 
 
 " No, it is not." 
 
 " Will you tell me why, Miss Marvin ? " 
 
 " Because," answered Hester, " we do a little good 
 and then refuse to follow it up. If we were to take a 
 child and say, 'You shall be a farm labourer/ or 
 1 You shall be a domestic servant, and in due time 
 marry a labourer and rear his family ; ' and if, con- 
 tent with this, we were to teach these children just 
 enough for their fate — the boy to plough and work a 
 threshing machine and touch his cap to his betters, 
 the girl to cook and sew and keep house on sixteen 
 shillings a week — why, then there might be something 
 to say for us. We have not the heart to do this, and 
 yet in effect we do more cruelly. We are not tyrants 
 enough to take a child of eight and label him for 
 life : we start him on a kind of education which 
 seems to offer him a chance ; and then, just as the 
 prospect should be opening, we suddenly lose interest 
 in him, wash our hands of him, turn him adrift. 
 Some few — a very few — have the grit to push on, 
 unhelped by us , and grasp their opportunity. But 
 for one of these a thousand and more fall back on 
 their fate, and of our teaching the one thing they
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 273 
 
 keep is discontent. We have built a porch, to no- 
 where. We invest millions; and just as our invest- 
 ment begins to repay us splendidly, we sell out, 
 share by share. That is why I think sometimes, 
 Sir George, in my bitterness, that education in 
 England must be the most wasteful thing in the 
 world." 
 
 " If, in this corner of England, someone were to set 
 himself to fight this waste, would you help ? " 
 "As Mistress of the Widows' Houses?" 
 Sir George laughed. " As Mistress of the Widows' 
 Houses — and of a school attached. I am thinking of 
 a Charterhouse or a Christ's Hospital in a small way ; 
 a foundation, that is, to include the old charity and a 
 new and efficient school ; modern education worked 
 on lines of the old collegiate mediaeval systems — 
 eh, Miss Marvin ? To me, a high Tory, those old 
 foundations are still our best models." 
 
 " Three or four of them have survived," said Hester 
 gravely, and with as little of irony as she could con- 
 trive. " Forgive me, Sir George — once more I am 
 going to speak ungratefully — but though neglect 
 be our chief curse just now, a worse may follow 
 when rich folks wake up and endow education in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " You condemn me offhand for a faddist? " 
 " If you would only see that these things need 
 an apprenticeship ! Take this very combination of 
 school and hospital. Three or four have survived, 
 and are lodged in picturesque buildings, where they 
 keep picturesque old customs, and seem to you very 
 noble and venerable. So indeed they are. But what 
 18
 
 _'M SHINING FERRY 
 
 of the hundreds that have perished ? And of these 
 survivors can you tell me one in which either the 
 school or the almshouse has not gone to the wall ? 
 The school, we will say, grows into an expensive one 
 for the sons of rich men ; the almshouse dwindles 
 from a college for poor gentlemen down to a home 
 into which wealthy men job their retired servants. 
 I grant you that our modern attempts to combine 
 almsgiving with teaching are not much better as a 
 rule — are, perhaps, even a little worse. If you have 
 ever walked through one of our public orphanages, for 
 instance " — 
 
 Sir George's face fell. " I have never visited one, 
 Miss Marvin, and I subscribe perhaps to half a 
 dozen — out of sheer laziness, and because to subscribe 
 comes easier than to say ' No.' Yes ; I am an incur- 
 able amateur, and you are right, no doubt, in laughing 
 at my scheme and refusing to look at it." 
 
 "But I don't, Sir George. I even think it may 
 succeed, as it deserves, and reward your kindness. 
 Yes, and I have been arguing against myself as much 
 as against you, to warn myself against hoping too 
 much. For there must be disappointments." 
 
 " What disappointments ? " 
 
 " Well, to begin with, you rich folks are impatient ; 
 you expect your money to buy success at once and 
 of itself. And then you expect gratitude." 
 
 " I do not," Sir George asserted stoutly. 
 
 " At least," said Hester, " it is only too plain that 
 you are not getting it." She dropped him a small 
 deprecatory curtsey and laughed. "And yet I am 
 grateful."
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 275 
 
 " Yes," he answered gravely ; " I understand. But 
 since you do not quite despise my scheme, will you 
 come and discuss it with me, believing only that I 
 am in earnest ? " 
 
 So it was arranged that Hester should call on him 
 next evening and go through the plans he had been 
 preparing for a week past. That such an interview 
 defied convention scarcely crossed her mind or his, 
 Sir George being one of those men who can neglect 
 convention because their essential honour stands 
 above question. He received her in his library, 
 and for an hour they talked as might two men of 
 business in friendly committee for some public good. 
 
 " By the way," said he, glancing up from his papers, 
 "you were talking yesterday of public orphanages. 
 Have you heard that your little friend Clem — the 
 blind child — has been packed off to one?" 
 
 "To an orphanage?" Hester echoed. "The 
 children were not at school to-day, but I had not 
 heard a sound of this." 
 
 " It is true; for I happened to call in at the station 
 this morning, and there on the platform I met Rose- 
 warne with the child. The man was taking his ticket 
 to Paddington — a single ticket half-fare ; and over- 
 hearing this as we stood together by the booking- 
 office, I made bold to ask him a few questions. The 
 child was to travel alone, in charge of the guard ; 
 to be met at the journey's end, I suppose, by an 
 official, and taken out to the orphanage — I forget its 
 name — an institution for the blind somewhere out in 
 the south-ea itern suburbs." 
 
 " Poor Myra ! "
 
 27 G SHINING FERRY 
 
 " ' Poor Clem ! ' I should rather say. He was not 
 crying over it, but he looked pretty forlorn and white, 
 and his blindness made it pitiable. I call it brutal ; 
 the man at least might have travelled up for com- 
 pany. A journey of three hundred miles ! " 
 
 Nevertheless, Hester chiefly pitied Myra. As for 
 Clem, the news relieved her mind in part ; since after 
 witnessing Mr. Sam's outburst, she had more than 
 once shivered at the thought of child and uncle con- 
 tinuing to live under one roof. 
 
 Poor Myra had spent the day pacing up and down 
 her room like a caged beast. The fate decreed and 
 overhanging Clem had been concealed from her. 
 Had it been less incredible, instinct surely would 
 have wakened her suspicions before the last moment. 
 At the last moment Susannah, having to dress the 
 child for his journey, met inquiries with the half- 
 hearted lie that he was bound on a trip to Plymouth 
 with his uncle, to meet Aunt Hannah, and return 
 after a day or two in the Virtuous Lady. Susannah 
 — weak soul — had furthered the conspiracy because 
 she too had begun to fear for Clem, and wished him 
 well clear of his uncle's roof. She acted " for the 
 best," but broke down in the act of tearing the 
 children asunder, and told her lie shamefacedly. 
 The result was that Mr. Sam, hearing Myra's screams 
 overhead as he paced the hall, had rushed upstairs, 
 caught her by both wrists as she clung to her brother, 
 forced her into her own bedroom, and turned and 
 pocketed the key. 
 
 Four times since, in that interminable day of
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 277 
 
 anguish, Susannah had come pleading and whimper- 
 ing to the door with food. Mr. Sam, on returning 
 from the station, had given her the key with in- 
 structions to release the girl on a promise of good 
 behaviour. 
 
 " Be sensible, Miss Myra — now, do ! 'Tis to a 
 home he's gone, where he'll be looked after and 
 taught and tended, and you'll see him every holi- 
 days. A fine building, sure 'nough ! Look, I've 
 brought you a picture of it ! " 
 
 Susannah, defying instructions, had unlocked and 
 opened the door. Myra snatched the paper from her 
 — it was, in fact, a prospectus of the institution — 
 crumpled it up and thrust it in her pocket. With 
 that, the last gust of her passion seemed to spend 
 itself. She turned, and walking straight to the 
 window-seat, coiled herself among the cushions with 
 face averted and chin upon hand. To Susannah 
 the traitress she deigned no word. 
 
 Thrice again Susannah came pleading, each time 
 with a tray and something to tempt Myra's appetite. 
 Myra did not turn her head. Departing for the 
 fourth time, Susannah left the door ajar. The siege, 
 then, was raised, the imprisonment over. Myra 
 listened to her footsteps descending the stairs, walked 
 to the door, shifted the key from the outer to the 
 inner keyhole, and locked herself in. By this time 
 the wintry dusk I gun to fall. Resuming her 
 
 seat by the window, ihe fell to watching the court- 
 yard again, her body motionless, her small brain 
 working. 
 Dusk had deepened to darkness in the courtyard
 
 278 SHINING FERRY 
 
 when she heard a footfall she recognised. It was 
 Archelaus Libby's, on his way home from school to 
 his loft, to deposit his books there and wash before 
 seeking his tea in the kitchen. 
 
 Myra straightened her body, and opened the 
 window softly. 
 
 " Archelaus ! " she called as loudly as she dared. 
 
 " Miss Myra ? " The footsteps halted. 
 
 " Hush, Archelaus, and come nearer. I want you 
 to do something for me." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Myra." 
 
 " It may get you into trouble. I want you to fetch 
 the short ladder from under the linhay, and fix it 
 against the window here, without making a noise." 
 
 For a moment he made no answer. But he had 
 understood ; for she heard him walking away toward 
 the linhay, and by and by he returned panting, and 
 sloped the ladder against the sill as she bade him. 
 By this time Myra had found a plateful of biscuits, 
 and crammed her pocket full, and was ready to 
 descend. 
 
 " But what is the meaning of it ? " asked Archelaus, 
 as she clambered down to him. 
 
 " They have stolen away Clem, and this morning 
 they locked me in. Now take the ladder back and 
 hang it in its place, and I will thank you for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 "But I don't understand!" protested Archelaus. 
 " Stolen away Master Clem? Who has stolen him? 
 And what are you going to do ? " 
 
 "I am going to find him — that's all," said Myra, 
 and ran off into the darkness.
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 279 
 
 She could reckon on two friends in the world — Mr. 
 Benny and Tom Trevarthen. Aunt Hannah was 
 far away, and Miss Marvin (though now forgiven, 
 and indeed worshipped for having interfered to pro- 
 tect Clem from his flogging) could not be counted on 
 for effective help. 
 
 Tom Trevarthen and Mr. Benny — it was on Tom 
 that she pinned her hope ; for Tom (she had heard) 
 was shipped on board the One-and-All schooner ; and 
 the One-and-All was ready to sail for London ; and 
 somewhere near London — so the paper in her pocket 
 had told her — lay the dreadful place in which Clem 
 was hidden. She could find the vessel ; the One-and- 
 All was moored — or had been moored last night — at 
 the buoy under the hill, ready for sea. But to find 
 the vessel and to find Tom Trevarthen were two very 
 different things. To begin with, Tom would be use- 
 less unless she contrived to speak with him alone ; to 
 row straight to the schooner and hail her would spoil 
 all. Moreover, on the night before sailing he would, 
 most likely, be enjoying himself ashore. But where? 
 Peter Benny might be able to tell. Peter Benny had 
 a wonderful knack of knowing the movements of 
 every seaman in the port. 
 
 She ran down the dark street to the alley over 
 which poor Nicky Vro's signboard yet glimmered in 
 the light of the oil lamp at the entrance. The cottage 
 still lacked a tenant, and it had been nobody's busi- 
 ness to take the board down. On the frape at the 
 alley's end his ferry-boat lay moored as he had left 
 it. Myra tugged at the rope and drew the boat in. 
 
 As it drew alongside out of the darkness she leapt
 
 280 SHINING FERRY 
 
 on board and cast off. The paddles, as she labori- 
 ously shipped them between the thole -pins, were 
 unconscionably heavy ; she knew little of rowing, and 
 nothing of double-sculling. But the tide helped her. 
 By pulling now one paddle, now another, she worked 
 the boat across and down towards the ladder and the 
 quay-door at the end of Mr. Benny's yard. 
 
 Nearing it, she found herself in slack water, and 
 the boat became more manageable, giving her time 
 between the strokes to glance over her shoulder and 
 scan the dark shadow under the longshore wall, 
 where each garden and alley-way had its quay-door 
 and its ladder reaching down into the tide. Now 
 the most of these quay-doors were painted green or 
 blue, but Mr. Benny's a light grey, which in the dark- 
 ness should have made it easily discernible. Yet for 
 some while she could not find it. 
 
 Suddenly, as she threaded her way along, scarcely 
 using her paddles now except to fend off the boats 
 which, lying peaceably at their moorings, seemed to 
 crowd around with intent to impede her, a schooner's 
 masts and spars loomed up before her high against 
 the inky night. Then she understood. The vessel 
 — her name, the One-and-All, in white letters on 
 her forward bulwarks, glimmered into sight as Myra 
 passed — lay warped alongside the wall, with her fore- 
 yard braced aslant to avoid chafing the roof of Mr. 
 Benny's office, and her mainmast and standing rig- 
 ging all but entirely hiding Mr. Benny's quay-door, 
 the approach to which she completely obstructed. 
 A little above her forestay a small window, uncur- 
 tained and brightly lit, broke the long stretch of
 
 CLEM IS LOST TO MYRA 281 
 
 featureless black wall. This was the window of Mr. 
 Benny's inner office, and within, as she checked her 
 way, catching at the gunwale of one among the 
 tethered boats, Myra could see the upper half of a 
 hanging lamp and the shadow of its reflector on the 
 smoky ceiling. 
 
 Mr. Benny would be seated under that lamp, no 
 doubt. But how could she reach him ? 
 
 The One-and-All lay head-to-stream, and so deep 
 in the water that the tide all but washed her bul- 
 warks, still grey with the dust of china-stone as 
 she had come from her loading. Nowadays no 
 British ship so scandalously overladen would be 
 allowed to put to sea ; but the Plimsoll-mark had 
 not yet been invented to save seamen from their 
 employers. 
 
 She lay so low that Myra, peering into the dark- 
 ness, could almost see across decks to the farther 
 bulwarks ; and the decks were deserted. She 
 mounted no riding-lamp, and no glimmer of light 
 showed from hatchway, deckhouse, or galley. 
 
 Minutes passed, and, as still no sign of life ap- 
 peared on board, Myra grew bolder and pushed 
 across for a nearer view. Yes ; the deck was 
 deserted, and only the deck intervened between her 
 and .Mr. Benny's quay-door, by the sill of which the 
 tide ran lapping and sucking at the crevices of the 
 wall. She hardened her heart. Even if her footstep 
 gave the alarm below, she could dash across and 
 through the doorway before being seized or even 
 detected. She laid both hands on the clay-dusted 
 bulwarks and hoisted herself gently. The boat —
 
 282 SHINING FERRY 
 
 she had clone with it — slipped away noiselessly from 
 under her and away into darkness. 
 
 She had meant to clear the ship with a rush ; but 
 as her feet touched the deck her courage failed her, 
 and she tiptoed forward stealthily, gaining the shadow 
 of the deckhouse and pausing there. 
 
 And there, in the act of crouching to spring across 
 the few remaining yards, she drew back, crouching 
 lower yet ; for, noiseless as she, the dark form of a 
 man had stepped forward and framed itself in the 
 grey glimmering doorway. 
 
 For an instant she made sure that he was about to 
 step on board. But many seconds passed, and still 
 he waited there — as it seemed to her, in the attitude 
 of a man listening ; though to what he listened she 
 could not guess. She herself heard no sound but the 
 lapping of the tide. 
 
 By and by, gripping the ladder-rail and setting one 
 foot against the One-and-AWs bulwarks to steady 
 himself, the man leaned outboard and sideways until 
 a faint edge of light from the office window fell on his 
 upturned face. 
 
 It was the face of her uncle. 
 
 Fascinated by terror, following his gaze — by 
 instinct seeking for help, if any might be found — 
 Myra lifted her face to the window. That too was 
 darkened for the instant by a man's form ; and as he 
 crossed the room to the chair beside the desk, she 
 recognised Tom Trevarthen.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 
 
 MR. SALT must have been preaching Hester's 
 talent at large among seamen of the port, 
 for when she returned from her interview 
 with Sir George Mr. Benny met her at the kitchen 
 door with news that no less than six sailors awaited 
 her in the office, and that two or three had been 
 patiently expecting her for an hour at least. 
 
 " 'Tis a great tax on you, my dear, and I tried to 
 reason wi' them; but they wouldn't take 'No' for 
 an answer. What's more, when I retire from the busi- 
 ness I shan't be honestly able to sell you the goodwill 
 of it, for they won't have my services at any price." 
 
 Hester laughed. " You won't even get me to bid," 
 she assured him. " We shall soon be too busy for 
 letter-writing, and must close the office ; but to-night 
 I suppose we cannot disappoint them." 
 
 So, with a sigh of resignation and an envious glance 
 at the cosy fire, she turned and stepped briskly down 
 the courtyard to the office. There, as Mr. Benny 
 had promised, she found six expectant mariners, 
 and for an hour wrote busily, rapidly. Either she 
 was growing cleverer at the business, or her talk 
 with Sir George had keyed her to tin's happy pitch. 
 
 28.J
 
 2S4 SHINING FERRY 
 
 She felt — it happens sometimes, if rarely, to most of 
 us — in tune with all the world ; and in those illumi- 
 nated hours we feel as if our fellow-creatures could 
 bring us no secret too obscure for our understanding, 
 no trouble hopeless of our help. " The light of the 
 body is the eye ; if, therefore, thine eye be single, thy 
 whole body shall be full of light." Hester found her- 
 self divining without effort what her clients wished 
 her to write, and as easily translating the inarticulate 
 message into words. It was superfluous for them to 
 thank her as they did; her own inner voice told her 
 she had done well. 
 
 At length they were gone, and she followed them 
 so far as the outer office, to rake out the fire and tidy 
 up for the night. As she stooped over the stove she 
 was startled by a noise from the inner room — a noise 
 as of someone moving the window-sash. But how 
 could this be ? Perhaps the sash-cord had parted, 
 letting the pane slip down with a run — 
 
 It did not occur to her, though startled for the 
 moment, to be afraid, or even to suspect any cause 
 for fear. Her mind was still busy with this practical 
 explanation when she opened the door and her eyes 
 fell on Tom Trevarthen. 
 
 His back was turned towards her as he closed the 
 window by which he had just entered ; but he faced 
 about with a smile, ignoring the alarm in her face and 
 the hand she put out against the door-jamb for support. 
 
 " Good-evenin', miss ! You'll excuse my coming by 
 the shortest way " — 
 
 " But — but hozv did you come ? " she gasped. 
 
 He laughed. " Easy enough : I swung myself up
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 285 
 
 by the schooner's fore-stay. Eh ? Didn't you know 
 the Onc-and-AWs moored here just underneath? 
 Then I must ha' given you a rare fright." 
 
 " Yes," said Hester, slowly getting back her com- 
 posure, " you certainly frightened me ; and I call it a 
 very silly trick." 
 
 She said it with a sudden vehemence which sur- 
 prised herself. It brought the colour back to her 
 face, too. The young sailor stared at her. 
 
 " Well," he said admiringly, "you have a temper! 
 But there's times when you make mistakes, I reckon." 
 
 She supposed him to allude to her unhappy intru- 
 sion upon the tattooing. Her colour deepened to a 
 hot and lively red, and between shame and scorn she 
 turned and walked from him into the outer office. 
 
 " Nay, now ! " He followed her, suppliant. " Nay, 
 now ! " he repeated, as one might coax a child. 
 " Simme I can't open my mouth 'ithout angering you, 
 Miss Marvin ; an' yet, ignorant as I be, 'tis plain to 
 me you don't mean no hurt." 
 
 Now Hester had meant to walk straight out of the 
 office and leave him. It would be hard to say pre- 
 cisely on what second thought she checked herself 
 and, picking up the poker, sedulously resumed her 
 raking-out of the stove. Partly, no doubt, she repented 
 of having taken offence when he meant none, lie 
 had been innocent, and her suspicion of him recoiled 
 back in self-contempt It was a relief to hear him 
 in turn accusing her unjustly. It gave her fresh 
 mil, on which she really could defend herself. 
 
 "Hurt?" she echoed half defiantly, stooping and 
 raking at the cinders.
 
 28 G SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Why, of course you hurt," he insisted. " Tis so 
 queer to me you can't see it. Just reckon up all the 
 harm this Rosewarne have a-done and is doing : 
 Mother Butson's school closed, and the poor soul bed- 
 ridden with rheumatics, all through being forced to 
 seek field-work, at her time o' life and in this autumn's 
 weather ! My old mother driven into a charity-house. 
 Nicky Vro dead in Bodmin gaol. Where was the 
 fair play? Master Clem, I hear, parted from his 
 sister and packed off this very day to a home in 
 London — lucky if 'tis better 'n a gaol" — 
 
 " Do you accuse me of all these wrongs ? " 
 
 " No, I don't. But in most of 'em you've been 
 mixed up, and in all of 'em you might have used 
 power over the man. Where have you put in an oar 
 except to make matters worse ? " 
 
 It was on her lips to tell him that she had resigned 
 the teachership ; but she forbore. 
 
 " Do you know," she answered quietly, " that half- 
 truths may be worse than lies, and a charge which is 
 half-true the most cruelly unjust ? W T e will agree that 
 I have done more harm here than good. But do you 
 accuse me of doing it wilfully, selfishly? " 
 
 " That's where I can't make you out," he said. " I 
 can't even make out your doing wrong at all. Thinks 
 I sometimes, ' 'Tis all a mistake. Go, look at her 
 face, all made for goodness if ever a face was ; try 
 her once more, an' you'll be sorry for thinkin' ill of 
 her.' That's the way of it. But then I come and 
 find you mixed up in this miserable business, and all 
 that's kind in you seems to harden, and all that's 
 straight to run crooked. There's times I think you
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 287 
 
 couldn't do wrong if you weren't so sure of doing 
 right ; and there's times, when I hear of your being 
 kind to the school-children, I think it must be some 
 curst ill-luck of my own that brings us always ath'art- 
 hawse." 
 
 Beneath the lamplight his eyes searched hers ap- 
 pealingly, as a child's might ; yet Hester wondered 
 rather at the note of manliness in his voice — a new 
 note to her, but an assured one. Whatever the 
 cause, Tom Trevarthen was a lad no longer. 
 
 " Why should you suppose," she asked, " that I 
 have power over Mr. Rosewarne ? " 
 
 " Haven't you ? " 
 
 The simple question confounded her, and she 
 blushed again, as one detected in an untruth. It was 
 as Tom said ; some perverse fate impelled her at 
 every turn to show at her worst before him. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " he said slowly, watching her face. 
 " You don't tell me you're going to marry him ! " 
 
 She should have obeyed her first impulse and said 
 " No " hotly. The word was on her lips when a 
 second wave of indignation swelled within her and 
 swept over the first, drowning it, and, with it, her 
 speech. What right had he to question her, or what 
 concern with her affairs ? She threw back her head 
 proudly, to look him in the face and ask him this. 
 But he had turned from her. 
 
 His disgust angered her, and once more she 
 changed her impulse for the worse. 
 
 "It seems," said she contemptuously, "that you 
 reserve the right of making terms with Mr. Rose- 
 warnc."
 
 288 SHINING FERRY 
 
 lie turned at the door of the inner office and 
 regarded her for a moment with a dark frown. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " His voice betrayed 
 the strain on his self-command. 
 
 " Mr. Rosevvarne owns the One-and-All, does he 
 not? If, after what has happened, you accept his 
 wages, you might well be a little less censorious of 
 other folk's conduct." 
 
 If the shaft hit, he made no sign for the moment. 
 " I reckon," he answered, with queer deliberateness, 
 " your knowledge of ships and shipowners don't 
 amount to much, else you wouldn't talk of Rose- 
 warne's doing me a favour." He paused and laughed, 
 not aloud but grimly. "The One-and- All's insured, 
 Miss Marvin, and pretty heavily over her value. 
 I'd take it as a kindness if you found someone fool 
 enough to insure vie for a trip in her." 
 
 " I don't understand." 
 
 " No, I reckon you don't. They finished loading 
 her last night, and we moored her out in the channel, 
 ready for the tug this morning. Before midnight 
 she was leaking there like a basket, and by seven 
 this morning she was leaking worse than a five- 
 barred gate. The tug had just time to pluck us 
 alongside here, or she'd have sunk at her moorings ; 
 and when we'd warped her steady and the tide left 
 her, the water poured out of a hole I could shove my 
 hand through — not the seams, mark you, though 
 they leaked bad enough — but a hole where the china- 
 stone had fairly knocked her open ; and the timber 
 all round it as rotten as cheese. All day, between 
 tides, they've been sheathing it over, and packing
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 289 
 
 the worst places in her seams ; and to-night the 
 crew, being all Troy men, are taking one more sleep 
 ashore than they bargained for. They want it, too, 
 after their spell at the pumps." 
 
 " Then why are you left on board ? " 
 " Mainly because I've no home to go to ; and 
 somebody must act night-watchman. The skipper 
 himself has bustled ashore with the rest. I reckon 
 this morning's work scared him a bit, hand-in-glove 
 though he is with Rosewarne ; but he must be recover- 
 ing, because just before stepping off he warned me 
 against putting up the riding-light. There's no chance 
 of anyone fouling us where we lie, and we can save 
 two-penn'orth of oil." 
 
 " But you don't tell me Mr. Rosewarne sends his 
 ships to sea, knowing them to be rotten ? " 
 
 He hunched his shoulders. " Maybe he does ; 
 maybe he don't. It don't matter to me, the man's 
 going to hell or not. But you seem to think I take 
 his wages as a favour." 
 
 " Then why do you take them at all, at such a risk ? " 
 " Because," he burst out, " you've come here and 
 driven my mother to an almshouse, and I must earn 
 money to get her out of it. If I'd a-known you was 
 coming here with your education, I'd have picked up 
 some of it and been prepared for you. A mate's 
 certificate doesn't mean much in these days. Men 
 like Rosewarne want a skipper who'll earn insurance- 
 money and save oil. Still, I could have tried. But, 
 like a fool, I was young and in a good berth, and let 
 my chances slip; and then you came along and 
 spoilt all." 
 '9
 
 290 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Did you seek me out to-night to tell me this ? " 
 she steadied herself to ask. 
 
 He lowered his eyes. " I want you to write a letter 
 for me," he said, and added, after a pause, " That's 
 what comes of wanting education." 
 
 Another and a very awkward pause followed. This 
 discovery of his illiteracy shocked and hurt her in- 
 expressibly. She could not even say why. Good 
 sense warned her even in the instant of disappoint- 
 ment that a man might not know how to read or 
 write and yet be none the less a good man and trust- 
 worthy. And even though the prejudice of her 
 calling made her treat the defect too seriously, why 
 in Tom Trevarthen should that shock her which in 
 other seamen she took as a matter of course? 
 
 Yet in her shame for him she could lift her eyes ; 
 and he still kept his lowered upon the floor. 
 
 " To whom do you want me to write ? " she asked. 
 
 " It's to a girl," he answered doggedly ; and the 
 words seemed to call up a dark flush in his face, 
 which a moment before had been unwontedly pale — 
 though this she did not perceive. 
 
 " A girl ? " 
 
 " That's so ; a girl, miss, if you don't mind — a girl 
 as it happens I'm fond of." 
 
 " A love-letter ? Is that what you mean ? " 
 
 " If you don't mind, Miss Marvin ? " 
 
 " Why on earth should I mind ? " she asked, with a 
 heat unintelligible to herself as to him. 
 
 A suspicion crossed her mind that the young 
 woman might not be over-respectable ; but she dis- 
 missed it. If the message were such as she could
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 291 
 
 indite, she had no warrant to inquire further ; and 
 yet, " Is it quite fair to her?" she added. 
 
 The question plainly confused him. " Fair, miss ? " 
 
 " You told me a minute ago that you found it hard 
 to earn money for your mother ; and now it seems 
 you think of marrying." 
 
 " No, miss," said he simply ; " I can't think of it at 
 all. And that's partly what I want to tell her." 
 
 Hester frowned. " It's queer you should come to 
 me, whom you accuse of interfering to your harm. 
 If I am guilty on other counts, I am guilty too of 
 coming between you and this young woman." 
 
 He smiled faintly. " And that's true in a way," he 
 allowed ; " but you'll see I don't bear malice. The 
 letter'll prove that, if so be you'll kindly write it for me." 
 
 He said it appealingly, with his hand on the door- 
 handle. She bent her head in consent. Flinging the 
 door open, he stood aside to let her pass. 
 
 It was a moment later as he crossed over to the 
 client's chair that Myra caught sight of him from 
 the schooner's deck. The child cowered back into 
 the shadow of the deck-house, her eyes intent again 
 on the listener leaning out from the quay-door. He 
 could not even see what she had seen ; and if Tom 
 was in talk with anyone inside her own ears caught 
 no sound of it. Nevertheless her uncle's attitude left 
 no room to doubt that he was playing the spy, and 
 trying, at least, to listen. 
 
 "What name?" asked Hester, dipping her pen. 
 " What name ? Eh, to be sure " — Tom Trevarthen
 
 292 SHINING FERRY 
 
 hesitated for a moment. " Put down Harriet Sands." 
 She glanced up, and he nodded. "Yes, that'll do — 
 Harriet Sands, of Runcorn." 
 
 " She must have some nearer address than that. 
 Runcorn is a large town, is it not ? " 
 
 He pondered, or seemed to ponder. " Then we'll 
 put down ' Sailors' Return Inn, Quay Street, Runcorn.' 
 That'll find her, as likely as anywhere." 
 
 Hester wrote the address and glanced up inquir- 
 ingly ; but his eyes were fastened on the desk where 
 her hand rested, and on the virgin sheet of notepaper 
 placed ready for use. 
 
 " A public-house ? It wanted only that ! " she told 
 herself. Aloud she said, "' My dearest Harriet' — Is 
 that how you begin ? " 
 
 He appeared to consider this slowly. " I suppose 
 so," he answered at length, with a shade of disappoint- 
 ment in his voice. 
 
 " And next, I suppose, you say, ' This comes hoping 
 to find you well as it leaves me at present.' " 
 
 " Don't 'ee — don't 'ee, co ! " he implored her almost 
 with a cry of pain ; and then, scarcely giving her time 
 to be ashamed of her levity, he broke out, " They tell 
 me you can guess a man's thoughts and write 'em 
 down a'most before he speaks. Why won't you guess 
 'em for me? Write to her that when we parted she 
 was unkind ; but be she unkind for ever and ever, in 
 my thoughts she will be the best woman in the world. 
 Tell her that whatever she may do amiss, in my eyes 
 she'll last on as the angel God A'mighty meant her to 
 be, and all because I love her and can't help it. Say 
 that to her, and say that there's degrees between us
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 293 
 
 never to be crossed, and I know it, and have never a 
 hope to win level with her ; but this once I will speak 
 and be silent all the rest o' my days. Tell her that 
 there's bars between us, but the only real one is her 
 own self; that for nothing would she be beyond my 
 reach but for being the woman she is." 
 
 Hester laid down the pen and looked up at him 
 with eyes at once dim and shining. 
 
 " I cannot write this," she said, her lips stammering 
 on the words. " I am not worthy — I laughed at you." 
 
 "Tell her," he went on, "that I'm a common sea- 
 man, earnin' two pound a month, with no book-learning 
 and no hopes to rise ; tell her that I've an old mother 
 to keep — that for years to come there's no chance of 
 my marryin' ; and then tell her I'm glad of it, for it 
 keeps me free to think only of her. Write all that 
 down, Miss Marvin." 
 
 " I cannot," she protested. 
 
 Very gently but firmly he laid a brown strong hand 
 over hers as it rested on the letter. In a second 
 he withdrew it, but in that second she felt herself mas- 
 tered, commanded. She took up the pen and wrote. 
 
 " I have used your own words and none of mine," 
 she said, when she had finished. " Shall I read them 
 over to you ? " 
 
 "No." lie took the letter, folded it, and placed it 
 in the envelope she handed him. "Why didn't you 
 put it into better words?" he aski d. 
 
 " Because I could not. Trust a woman to know 
 what a woman likes. If I were this — this Harriet" — 
 Her voice faltered and came to a halt.
 
 294 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Yes ? " He waited for her to continue. 
 
 " Why, then, that letter would make me a proud 
 woman." 
 
 " Though it came from a common sailor? " 
 
 " She would not think first of that. She would be 
 proud to be so loved." 
 
 " Thank you," said he slowly, and, drawing a shilling 
 from his pocket, laid it on the desk. "Good-night 
 and good-bye, Miss Marvin." 
 
 He moved to the window and flung up the sash. 
 Seated astride the ledge, he looked back at her with a 
 smile which seemed to say, " At last we are friends ! " 
 The next moment he had reached out a hand, caught 
 hold of the One-and-AWs forestay, and swung him- 
 self out into the darkness. 
 
 Hester, standing alone in the little office, heard a 
 soft sliding sound which puzzled her, followed by the 
 light thud of his feet as he dropped upon deck. She 
 leaned out for a moment before closing the window. 
 All was silent below, save for the lap of the tide 
 between the schooner and the quay-wall. 
 
 As Tom Trevarthen opened the window and leaned 
 out to grasp the forestay, Myra, still cowering by the 
 deck-house, saw her uncle swing himself hurriedly back 
 into the shadow of the quay-door. She too retreated 
 a pace ; and with that, her foot striking against the 
 low coaming of an open hatchway, with a clutch at air 
 she pitched backward and down into the vessel's hold. 
 
 She did not fall far, the One-and-All being loaded to 
 within a foot or two of the hatches. Her tumble sent 
 her sprawling upon a heap of loose china-clay. She
 
 HESTER WRITES A LOVE-LETTER 295 
 
 felt it sliding under her and herself sliding with it, softly, 
 down into darkness. She was bruised. She had 
 wrenched her shoulder terribly, but she clenched her 
 teeth and kept back the cry she had all but uttered. 
 
 The sliding ceased, and she tried to raise herself on 
 an elbow out of the choking smother of clay-dust. 
 The effort sent a stab of pain through her, exquisite, 
 excruciating. She dropped forward upon her face, 
 and there in the darkness she fainted. 
 
 Hester, having closed the window, put out the 
 lights quietly, pausing in the outer office for a glance 
 at the raked-out stove. Outside, as she locked the 
 door behind her, she paused again at the head of the 
 step for an upward look at the sky, where, beyond 
 the clouds, a small star or two twinkled in the dark 
 square of Pegasus. She never knew how close in that 
 instant she stood to death. Within six paces of her 
 crouched a man made desperate by the worst of terrors 
 — terror of himself; and maddened by the worst of 
 all provocatives — jealousy. 
 
 He had come to her on a forlorn hope, believing 
 that she only — if any helper in the world — could be 
 his salvation from the devil within him. Not in 
 cruelty, but in fear — which can be crueller than 
 cruelty itself — he had packed off the helpless blind 
 boy beyond his reach, lie had promised himself that 
 by dismissing the temptation he could lay the devil at 
 a stroke and finally. On his way back from the station 
 had heard whispered within him the horrible truth : 
 that he was a lost man, without self-control. 
 
 lie had sought her merely by the instinct of self-
 
 296 SHINING FERRY 
 
 preservation. She had cowed and mastered him 
 once. In awful consciousness of his infirmity he 
 craved only to be mastered again, to be soothed, 
 quieted. He nodded to the men and women he 
 passed in the streets. They saw nothing amiss with 
 him — nothing more than his habitual straight-lipped 
 visage and ill-fitting clothes. 
 
 He had dogged her to the office and listened 
 outside for one, two, three hours. In the end, as 
 he believed, he had caught her at tryst with his worst 
 enemy — with the man who had knocked him down 
 and humiliated him. Yet in his instant need he 
 hated Tom Trevarthen less as a rival in love, less 
 from remembered humiliation, than as a robber of the 
 sole plank which might have saved him from drowning. 
 
 So long had the pair been closeted together that 
 a saner jealousy might have suggested more evil 
 suspicions. His jealousy passed these by as of no 
 account. He could think only of his need and its 
 foiled chance: his need was more urgent than any 
 love. He had come for help, and found her colloguing 
 with his enemy. 
 
 In his abject rage he could easily have done her 
 violence and as easily have run forward and cried 
 her pity. Between the two impulses he crouched 
 irresolute and let her pass. 
 
 Hester came down the steps slowly, passed within 
 a yard of him, and as slowly went up the dark 
 courtyard. For the last time she paused, with her 
 hand on Mr. Benny's door-latch; and this was what 
 she said there to herself, silently — 
 
 " But why Harriet ? — of all the hateful names ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE RESCUE 
 
 STYLE," said Mr. Joshua Benny, "has been 
 defined as a gift of saying anything, of 
 striking any note in the scale of human 
 feelings, without impropriety. We cannot all have 
 distinction, Mr. Parker — what I may call the jc ne 
 sais quoi" — 
 
 Mr. Joshua put this with a fine modesty, the 
 distinction of his own style being proverbial — in 
 Spendilove's Press Supply Bureau at any rate. He 
 might have added with a wave of the hand, "You 
 see to what it has advanced me ! " for whereas the 
 rest of Spendilove's literary men toiled in two 
 gangs, one on either side of a long high-pitched 
 desk, and wrote slashing leaders for the provincial 
 press, Mr. Joshua exercised his lightness of touch 
 upon "picturesque middles" in a sort of loose-box 
 partitioned off from the main office by screens of 
 opaque glass. This den — he spoke of it as his 
 " scriptorium " — had a window looking out upon an 
 elevated railway, along which the trains of the 
 London, Chatham, and Dover line banged and 
 rattled all day long. For Spendilove's (as it was 
 called by its familiars; inhabited the second floor of
 
 298 SHINING PERRY 
 
 a building close to the foot of Ludgate Hill. The 
 noise no longer disturbed Mr. Joshua, except when 
 an engine halted just outside to blow off steam. 
 
 Mr. Joshua leaned back in his writing-chair, tapped 
 a galley proof with admonitory forefinger, and gazed 
 over his spectacles upon Mr. Parker — a weedy youth 
 with a complexion suggestive of uncooked pastry. 
 
 " We cannot all have distinction, Mr. Parker, nor 
 can it be acquired by effort. Vigour we may 
 cultivate, and clearness we must ; it is essential. 
 On a level with these I should place propriety. 
 Propriety teaches us to regulate our speech by the 
 occasion ; to be incisive at times and at times 
 urbane ; to adapt the ' how ' to the ' when,' as I might 
 put it. I do not think — I really do not think — that 
 Christmas Eve is a happily chosen moment for 
 calling Mr. Disraeli 'a Jew adventurer.'" 
 
 " Mr. Makins, sir, who wrote yesterday's Liberal 
 leader for the syndicate, wound up by saying the 
 time had gone by for mincing our opinion of the 
 front Opposition Bench. He warned me last night, 
 when I took over his job, to pitch it strong. He had 
 it on good authority that the constituencies have 
 been a good deal shaken by Mr. Gladstone's Army 
 Purchase coup, and some straight talk is needed to 
 pull them together, in the eastern counties especially." 
 
 " You are young to the work, Mr. Parker. You 
 may depend upon it — you may take it from me — 
 that Spendilove's will not fail in straight talking, on 
 either side of the question. But we must observe 
 what our Gallic neighbours term les convenances. By 
 the way, has Makins gone off for the holidays ? "
 
 THE RESCUE 299 
 
 " He was to have gone off last night, sir ; but he 
 turned up this morning to write Sam Collins's ' Tory- 
 Squire' column for the Northern Guardian, and a 
 syndicate-middle on ' Christmas Cheer in the Good 
 Old Times.' Collins sent him a wire late last night ; 
 his wife is down with pneumonia." 
 
 "Tut, tut — send him to me. A good -hearted 
 fellow, Makins ! Tell him I've a dozen old articles 
 that will fix him up with ' Christmas Cheer ' in less 
 than twenty minutes. I keep them indexed. And 
 if he wants it illustrated I can look him out a dozen 
 blocks to take his choice from — ' Bringing in the 
 Boar's Head,' and that sort of thing." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, but before I send him 
 there's a party of four in the lower office waiting to 
 see you — one of them a child — and seafaring folk by 
 their talk. They walked in while I was sitting alone 
 there, finishing off my article, and not a word would 
 they tell of their business but that they must speak 
 to you in private. It's my belief they've come straight 
 off a wreck, and with a paragraph at least." 
 
 " Seafaring folk, do you say?" It was a cherished 
 hope of Mr. Joshua Benny's that one of these days 
 Spendilove's would attract private information to its 
 door, and not confine itself to decorating so much 
 of the world's news as had already become common 
 property. 
 
 " T l)c_ d for you, sir, as ' .Mr. Joshua Benny, the 
 
 great writer.' " 
 
 "Dear mc, I hope you have not kept them waiting 
 long? Show them up, please ; and — here, wait a 
 moment — on your way you can lake Makins an
 
 300 SHINING FERRY 
 
 armful of my commonplace books — eighteen sixty- 
 three to seven ; that will do. Tell him to look 
 through the indexes himself; he'll find what he 
 wants under ' Yule.' " 
 
 If Mr. Joshua's visitors had come, as Mr. Parker 
 surmised, straight off a wreck, the first to file into 
 his office had assuredly salved from calamity a 
 wonderful headgear. This was Mrs. Purchase, in a 
 bonnet crowned with a bunch of glass grapes ; and 
 by the hand she led Myra, who carried one arm in a 
 sling. The child's features were pinched and pale, 
 and her eyes unnaturally bright. Behind followed 
 Mr. Purchase and Tom Trevarthen, holding their 
 caps, and looking around uneasily for a mat to wipe 
 their shoes on. 
 
 No such shyness troubled Mrs. Purchase. " Good- 
 morning!" she began briskly, holding out a hand. 
 
 Mr. Joshua took it helplessly, his eyes for the 
 moment riveted on her bonnet. It bore no traces of 
 exposure to sea-water, and he transferred his scrutiny 
 to the child. 
 
 " You don't remember me," pursued Mrs. Purchase 
 cheerfully. " But I'd have picked you out from a 
 thousand, though I han't seen you since you was so 
 high." She spread out a palm some three feet or less 
 from the floor. " I'm Hannah Purchase, that used to 
 be Hannah Rosewarne, daughter of John Rosewarne 
 of Hall. You know now who I be, I reckon ; and 
 this here's my niece, and that there's my husband. 
 The young man in the doorway ain't no relation ; 
 but he comes from Hall too. He's Sal Trevarthen's 
 son. You remember Sal Trevarthen ? "
 
 THE RESCUE 301 
 
 " Ah, yes — yes, to be sure. Delighted to see you, 
 madam — delighted," stammered Mr. Joshua, who, 
 however, as yet showed signs only of bewilderment. 
 " And you wish to see me ? " — 
 
 " Wish to see you ? Man alive, we've been hunting 
 all Fleet Street for you ! Talk about rabbit warrens ! 
 Well, when 'tis over 'tis over, as Joan said by her 
 wedding, and here we be at last." 
 
 She paused and looked around. 
 
 " Place wants dusting," she observed. " Never 
 married, did 'ee? I reckoned I'd never heard of 
 your marrying. Your brother now has eleven of 
 'em — children, I mean ; and yet you feature him 
 wonderful, though fuller in the face. But the Lord's 
 ways be past finding out." 
 
 " Amen," said her husband, paying his customary 
 tribute to a scriptural quotation, and added, " They 
 don't keep over many chairs in this office." He 
 addressed this observation to Tom Trevarthen with 
 an impartial air as one announcing a scientific 
 discovery. 
 
 " Thank you," said Mrs. Purchase, seating herself 
 in a chair which Mr. Joshua made haste to provide. 
 " You will oblige me by paying no attention to 'Siah. 
 Well, as I was saying, it's a mercy the Lord has 
 made you the man you be ; for we're in want of your 
 help, all four of us." 
 
 " If I can be of service " — Mr. Joshua murmured. 
 
 " I remember," said Mrs. Purchase, arranging her 
 bonnet with an air of one coming to business, "when 
 I was a little girl reading in a history book about 
 a man called Bucket, who fell in love with a black
 
 ?,02 SHINING FERRY 
 
 woman in foreign parts ; or she may have been brown 
 or whitey- brown for all I can remember at this 
 distance of time. But, anyway, he was parted from 
 her, and came home to London here, and all she 
 knew about him was his name ' Bucket.' Well, 
 she took ship and kept on saying ' Bucket ' till 
 somewhere in London she found him. And if that 
 happened once, it ought to be able to happen again, 
 especially in these days of newspapers, and when 
 we've got the address." 
 
 Mrs. Purchase produced a crumpled slip of paper, 
 and handed it to Mr. Joshua, who adjusted his 
 spectacles. 
 
 "An institution for the blind, and near Bexley, 
 apparently." He glanced up in mild interrogation. 
 
 " What sort of place is it ? Nice goings-on there 
 I'll promise you ; and if 'tis better than penal servi- 
 tude I shall be surprised, seeing that Sam Rosewarne 
 is hand-in-glove with it. Never you mind, my dear," 
 she added, turning to Myra, who shivered, holding 
 her hand. " We'll get him out of it, or there's no law 
 in England." 
 
 Mr. Joshua, still hopelessly fogged, wheeled his 
 chair round to the bookcase behind him, and took 
 down a Directory, with a smaller reference work upon 
 Hospitals and Charitable Institutions. 
 
 " H'm," said he, coming to a halt as he turned the 
 pages; "here it is — 'Huntingdon Orphanage for the 
 Blind' — 'mainly supported by voluntary contribu- 
 tions' — address, 52 Conyers Road, Bexley, S.E. It 
 seems to have an influential list of patrons, mainly 
 Dissenters, as I should guess."
 
 THE RESCUE 303 
 
 " It may keep em," said Mrs. Purchase, "so long as 
 you get that poor child out of it." 
 
 " My dear lady, if you would be more explicit ! " 
 cried Mr. Joshua. " To what poor child do you 
 allude? And what is the help you ask of me?" 
 
 " If the worst comes to the worst, you can denounce 
 'em." Mrs. Purchase untied her bonnet strings, and 
 then slowly crossed her legs — an unfeminine habit 
 of hers. " 'Tis like a story out of a book," she pur- 
 sued. " This very morning as we was moored a little 
 above Deptford in the Virtuous Lady — that's my 
 husband's ship — and me making the coffee for break- 
 fast as usual, comes off a boy with a telegram, saying, 
 1 Meet me and Miss Myra by the foot of the 
 Monument. Most important. — Tom Trevarthen.' 
 You might have knocked me down with a feather, 
 and even then I couldn't make head nor tail of it." 
 
 To this extent her experience seemed to be re- 
 peating itself in Mr. Joshua. 
 
 " For to begin with," she went on, " how did I 
 know that Tom Trevarthen was in London? let 
 alone that last time we met we parted in anger. 
 Put he'd picked us out among the shipping as he 
 was towed up last night in the One -and -All to 
 anchor in the Pool. And I defy anyone to guess 
 that he'd got Myra here on board, who's my own niece 
 by a second marriage, and shipped herself as a stow- 
 away, but was hurt by a fall down the hold, and 
 might have lain there and starved to death, poor 
 child — and all for love of her brother that his uncle 
 had shipped off to a blind orphanage. But there's 
 a providence, Mr. Penny, that watches over children
 
 304 SHINING FERRY 
 
 — and you may lay to that." Mrs. Purchase took 
 breath. " Well, naturally, as you may guess, my 
 first thought was to set it down for a hoax, though 
 not in the best of taste. But with Myra's name 
 staring me in the face in the telegram, and blood 
 being thicker than water, on second thoughts I 
 told 'Siah to put on his best clothes and come to 
 the Monument with me, not saying more for fear 
 of upsetting him. 'Why the Monument? ' says 'Siah. 
 1 Why not ? ' says I ; ' it was put up against the 
 Roman Catholics.' So that determined him ; and 
 I wanted company, for in London you can't be too 
 careful. Sure enough, when we got to it, there was 
 Tom waiting, with this poor child holding his hand ; 
 and then the whole story came out. ' But what's 
 to be done ? ' I said, for my very flesh rebelled against 
 such cruelty to the child, let alone that he was flogged 
 black and blue at home. And then Tom Trevar- 
 then had a thought even cleverer than his telegram. 
 ' Peter Benny,' says he, ' has a brother here in London 
 connected with the press ; the press can do anything, 
 and by Peter's account his brother can do anything 
 with the press. If we can only find him, our job's 
 as good as done.' So we hailed a cab, and told 
 the man to drive us to the Shipping Gazette. But 
 I reckon we must have started someways at the 
 wrong end, for the Shipping Gazette passed us on 
 to a place called the Times, where they kept us 
 waiting forty minutes, and then said they didn't 
 know you, but advised us to try the Cheshire Cheese, 
 where I asked for the editor, and this caused another 
 delay. But a gentleman there drinkin' whisky -and-
 
 THE RESCUE 305 
 
 water said he'd heard of you in connection with the 
 Christian Herald, and the Christian Herald gave us 
 over to a policeman, who brought us here ; and now 
 the question is, what would you advise ? " 
 
 " I should advise," said Mr. Joshua, pulling out his 
 watch, " your coming off to lunch with me." 
 
 " You're a practical man, I see," said Mrs. Purchase, 
 " and I say again 'tis a pity you never married. 
 We'll leave the whole affair in your hands." 
 
 In his published writings Mr. Joshua had often 
 descanted on the power of the Fourth Estate ; and 
 in his addresses to young aspirants he ever laid 
 stress on the crucial faculty of sifting out the 
 essentials, whether in narrative or argument, from 
 whatever was of secondary importance, circum- 
 stantial, or irrelevant. The confidence and accuracy 
 with which Mrs. Purchase challenged him to put his 
 faith and his method into instant practice, staggered 
 him not a little. He felt himself hit, so to speak, 
 with both barrels. 
 
 It will be allowed that he rose to the test admirably. 
 Under an arch of the railway bridge at the foot of 
 Ludgate 1 1 ill there is a restaurant where you may 
 eat and drink and hear all the while the trains 
 rumbling over your head. To this he led the party ; 
 and while Mrs. Purchase talked, he sifted out with 
 professional skill the main points of her story, and 
 discovered what she required of him. To be sure, 
 the Power of the Press remained to be vindicated, 
 and as yet he was far from seeing his way clear. 
 The woman required him to storm the doors of an 
 20
 
 306 SHINING FERRY 
 
 orphanage and rescue without parley the body of a 
 child consigned to it by a legal guardian (which was 
 absurd) ; or if not instantly successful, to cow the 
 officials with threats of exposure (which again was 
 absurd ; since, for aught he knew, the institution 
 thoroughly deserved the subscriptions of the public). 
 
 Yet while his own heart sank, the confidence of his 
 guests, and their belief in him, sensibly increased. 
 He had chosen this particular restaurant not deliber- 
 ately, but with the instinct of a born journalist ; for 
 it is the first secret of journalism to appear to be 
 moving at high speed even when standing absolutely 
 still, and here in the purlieus of the clanging station, 
 amid the thunder of trains and the rush of hundreds 
 of feet to bookstalls and ticket-offices ; here where 
 the clash of knives and forks and plates mingled 
 with the rumble of cabs and the calls of porters 
 and newspaper boys, the impression of activity was 
 irresistible. Here, as Mrs. Purchase had declared, 
 was a practical man. Their business promised well 
 with all these wheels in motion. 
 
 " And now," said Mr. Joshua, as he paid the bill, 
 " we will take the train for Bexley, and see." 
 
 In his own heart he hoped that a visit to the 
 Orphanage would satisfy them. He would seek 
 the governor or matron in charge ; they would be 
 allowed an interview with the child, and finding 
 him in good hands, contented and well cared for, 
 would shed some natural tears perhaps, but return 
 cheerful and reassured. This was as much as Mr. 
 Joshua dared to hope. While piecing together Mrs. 
 Purchase's narrative he had been sincerely touched —
 
 THE RESCUE 307 
 
 good man — by some of its details ; particularly when 
 Tom Trevarthen struck in and related how on the 
 second night out of port he had been kept awake 
 by a faint persistent knocking on the bulkhead 
 separating the fo'c'sle from the schooner's hold ; 
 how he had drawn his shipmates' attention to it ; 
 how he had persuaded the skipper to uncover one 
 of the hatches ; and how he had descended with a 
 lantern and found poor Myra half dead with sickness 
 and hunger. Mr. Joshua did not understand children ; 
 but he had a good heart nevertheless. He eyed 
 Myra from time to time with a sympathetic curiosity, 
 shy and almost timid, as the train swung out over 
 the points, and the child, nestling down in a corner 
 by the window, gazed out across the murky suburbs 
 with eyes which, devouring the distance, regarded 
 him not at all. 
 
 The child did not doubt. She followed with the 
 others as he shepherded them through the station to 
 the train which came, as if to his call, from among 
 half a dozen others, all ready at hand. He was a 
 magician, benevolent as any in her fairy-tales, and 
 when all was over she would thank him, even with 
 tears. But just now she could think only of Clem 
 and her journey's end. Clem ! — Clem ! — the train 
 clanked out his name over and over. Would these 
 lines of dingy houses, factories, smoky gardens, 
 rubbish - heaps, broken palings, never come to an 
 end ? 
 
 They trailed past the window in meaningless pro- 
 cession ; empty phenomena, and as dull as they were 
 empty. But the glorious golden certainty lay beyond.
 
 308 SHINING PERRY 
 
 " Just look to the poor mite ! " whispered Mrs. Pur- 
 chase, nudging her husband. Myra's ears caught the 
 words distinctly, but Myra did not hear. 
 
 Bexley at last ! with two or three cabs outside the 
 station. Later on she remembered them, and the 
 colour of the horse in the one which Mr. Joshua 
 chose, and the driver's face, and Mr. Joshua leaning 
 out of the window and shouting directions. She 
 remembered also the mist on the glass window of 
 the four-wheeler, and the (oggy houses, detached and 
 semi-detached, looming behind their roadway walls 
 and naked fences of privet ; the clapping sound of 
 the horse, trotting with one loose shoe ; Aunt 
 Hannah's clutch at her arm as they drew up in the 
 early dusk before a gate with a clump of evergreens 
 on either side ; and a glimpse of a tall red-brick 
 building as Mr. Joshua opened the door and 
 alighted. 
 
 He was gone, and they sat in the cab and waited 
 for him a tedious while. She did not understand. 
 Why should they wait now, with Clem so near at 
 hand ? But she was patient, not doubting at all of 
 the result. 
 
 He came running back at length, and radiant. As 
 though the issue had ever been in doubt ! The cab 
 moved through the gateway and halted before a low 
 flight of steps, and everyone clambered out. The 
 dusk had deepened, and she blinked as she stepped 
 into a lighted hall. A tall man met them there ; 
 whispered, or seemed to whisper, a moment with 
 Mr. Joshua ; and beckoned them to follow. They 
 followed him, turning to the right, down a long
 
 THE RESCUE 309 
 
 corridor not so brightly lit as the hall had been. At 
 the end he halted for a moment and gently opened 
 a door. 
 
 They passed through it into what, for a moment, 
 seemed to be total darkness. They stood, in fact, at 
 the head of a tall platform of many steps, semi- 
 circular in shape, looking down upon a long hall, 
 unlit as yet (for the blind need no lamps) ; and below, 
 on the floor of the hall, ranged at their desks in the 
 fading light, sat row upon row of children. The 
 murmur of many voices rose from that shadowy 
 throng, as Myra, shaking off Aunt Hannah's grasp, 
 stepped forward to the edge of the platform with 
 both arms extended, her hurt forgotten. 
 
 "Myra!" 
 
 The opening of the door could scarcely have been 
 audible amid the murmur below. She herself had 
 stretched out her arms, uttering no sound, not yet 
 discerning him among the dim murmuring shadows. 
 What telegraphy of love reached, and on the instant, 
 that one child in the throng and fetched him to his 
 feet, crying out her name? And he was blind. 
 From the way he ran to her, heeding no obstacles, 
 stumbling against desks, breaking his shins cruelly 
 
 unst the steps of the platform as he stretched up 
 both hands to her, all might see that he was blind. 
 Yet he came, as she had known he would come. 
 
 " Clem ! " 
 
 They were in each other's arms, sobbing, laughing, 
 crooning soft words together, but only these articu- 
 late— 
 
 " You knew me? "
 
 310 SHINING FERBY 
 
 " Yes, you have come — I knew you would 
 come ! " 
 
 " Now I ask you," said Aunt Hannah to the 
 Matron, who, unobserved by the visitors, had followed 
 them down the corridor, " I don't know you from 
 Adam, ma'am, but I ask you, as a Christian woman, 
 if you'd part them two lambs ? And, if so, how ? " 
 
 The Matron's answer went near to abashing her ; 
 for the Matron turned out to be not only a Christian 
 woman, as challenged, but an extremely tender- 
 hearted one. 
 
 " I like the child," she answered. " I like him so 
 much that I'd be thankful if you could get him 
 removed ; for, to tell the truth, he's ailing here. We 
 try to feed him well, and we try to make him 
 happy ; but he's losing flesh, and he's not happy. 
 Indeed we are not tyrants, ma'am, and if it pleases 
 you his sister shall stay with him overnight, and I 
 promise to take care of her ; but he came to us from 
 his legal guardian, and without leave we can't give 
 him up." ' 
 
 It was at this point that inspiration came to Mr. 
 Joshua. 
 
 " Why not a telegram ? " he suggested. " As his 
 aunt, ma'am, you might suggest a sea voyage for the 
 child, and leave it to me to word it strongly." 
 
 " If I wasn't a married woman," said Mrs. Purchase, 
 " I could openly bless the hour I made your ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 Between the despatch of Mr. Joshua's telegram 
 and the receipt of his answer there was weary waiting
 
 THE RESCUE 311 
 
 for all but the two children. They, content in the 
 moment's bliss, secure of the future, being reunited, 
 neither asked nor doubted. 
 
 Yet they missed something — the glad, astounded 
 surprise of their elders as Mr. Joshua, having taken 
 the yellow envelope from Mrs. Purchase, whose 
 courage failed her, broke it open, and read aloud, 
 " Leave child in your hands. Only do not bring him 
 home." 
 
 It was a happy party that travelled back that 
 night to Blackfriars ; and Mr. Joshua, after shaking 
 hands with everybody many times over, and promising 
 to eat his Christmas dinner on board the Virtuous 
 Lady, walked homeward to his solitary lodgings elate, 
 treading the frosty pavement with an unaccustomed 
 springiness of step. He had vindicated the Power 
 of the Press.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 
 
 " A LETTER for you, Mrs. Trevarthen ! " 
 jLjL Spring had come. The flight and finding 
 
 of Myra had long since ceased to be a nine 
 days' wonder, and she and Clem and Tom Trevarthen 
 — received back into favour, and in some danger of 
 being petted by Mrs. Purchase, who had never been 
 known to pet a seaman — were shipmates now on 
 board the Virtuous Lady, and had passed for many 
 weeks now beyond ken of the little port. A new 
 schoolmistress reigned in Hester's stead, since Hester, 
 with the New Year, had taken over the care of the 
 Widows' Houses. In his counting-house at Hall 
 Samuel Rosewarne sat day after day transacting his 
 business without a clerk, speaking seldom, shunned 
 by all — even by his own son ; a man afraid of him- 
 self. Susannah declared that the house was like a 
 tomb, and vowed regularly on Monday mornings to 
 give " warning" at the next week-end. The villagers, 
 accustomed to the Rosewarne tyranny for genera- 
 tions, had found it hard to believe in their release. 
 Lady Killiow was little more than a name to them, 
 Rosewarne a very present steward and master of 
 their lives ; and at first, when Peter Benny engaged 
 
 312
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 313 
 
 workmen to pull down Nicky Vro's cottage and erect 
 a modest office on its site, they admired his temerity, 
 but awoke each morning to fresh wonder that no 
 thunderbolt from Hall had descended during the 
 night and razed his work to the ground. The new 
 ferryman had vanished too, paid off and discharged 
 for flagrant drunkenness, and his place was taken by 
 old Billy Daddo the Methodist — a change so com- 
 fortable and (when you come to think of it) a choice 
 so happy, that the villagers, after the shock of sur- 
 prise, could hardly believe they had not suggested it. 
 If they did not quite forget Nicky and his sorrows — 
 if in place of Nicky's pagan chatter they listened to 
 Billy's earnest, gentle discourse, and might hardly 
 cross to meal or market without being reminded of 
 God — why, after all, the word of God was good 
 hearing, and everyone ought to take an interest in it. 
 Stop your ears for a moment, and you could almost 
 believe 'twas Nicky come back to life again. Nobody 
 could deny the man was cheerful and civil. He 
 rowed a stroke, too, amazingly like Nicky's. 
 
 As for Rosewarne, in the revulsion of their fears 
 they began to despise him. They had done better 
 to pity him. 
 
 Across the water, in her lodging in the Widows' 
 Houses, Hester found work to be done which, to her 
 surprise, kept her busier than she had ever been in 
 her life before — so busy that the quiet quadrangle 
 seemed to hold no room for news of the world 
 without. She found that, if she were to satisfy her 
 conscience in the service of these old women, she 
 could seldom save more than an hour's leisure from
 
 314 SHINING FERRY 
 
 the short spring days ; and in that hour maybe Sir 
 George would call with his plans, or she would put 
 on her bonnet and walk down the hill for a call on 
 the Bennys and a chat with Nuncey. But oftener 
 it was Nuncey who came for a gossip ; Nuncey 
 having sold her cart and retired from business. 
 
 Spring had come. Within the almshouse quad- 
 rangle, around the leaden pump, the daffodils were 
 in flower and the tulip buds swelling. A blast from 
 the first of those golden trumpets could hardly have 
 startled her more than did her first sight of it 
 flaunting in the sun. It had stolen upon her like 
 a thief. 
 
 " A letter for you, Mrs. Trevarthen ! " 
 
 The postman, as he crossed the quadrangle to the 
 Matron's door, glanced up and spied Mrs. Trevarthen 
 bending over a wash-tub in the widows' gallery. He 
 pulled a letter from his pocket and held it aloft 
 gaily. 
 
 " I'll run up the steps with it if you can't reach." 
 
 " No need to trouble you, my dear, if you'll wait 
 a moment." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen dried her hands in her coarse 
 apron, leaned over the balustrade, and just contrived 
 to reach the letter with her finger-tips. They were 
 bleached with soap and warm water, and they 
 trembled a little. 
 
 "'Tis from your son Tom, I reckon," said the post- 
 man, while she examined the envelope. " Foreign 
 paper and the Quebec postmark." 
 
 " From Tom ? O' course 'tis from Tom ! Get
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 315 
 
 along with 'ee do ! What other man would be writing 
 to me at my time o' life ? " 
 
 The postman walked on, laughing. Mrs. Tre- 
 varthen stood for some while irresolute, holding the 
 envelope between finger and thumb, and glancing from 
 it to a closed door at the back of the gallery. A slant 
 low sun-ray almost reached to the threshold, and was 
 cut short there by the shadow of the gallery eaves. 
 
 " Best not disturb her, I s'pose," said the old woman, 
 with a sigh. She laid the letter down, but very 
 reluctantly, beside the wash-tub, and plunged both 
 hands among the suds again. " Ouebec ! " The 
 word recalled a silly old song of the sailors ; she had 
 heard her boy hum it again and again — 
 
 " Was you ever to Quebec, 
 
 Bonnie lassie, bonnie lassie? 
 Was you ever to Quebec, 
 Rousing timber over the deck " — 
 
 A door opened at the end of the gallery, and I lester 
 came through. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mrs. Trevarthen ! " 
 
 " 'Mornin', my dear." 
 
 These two were friends now on the common ground 
 of nursing Aunt Butson, who had been bedridden 
 almost from the day of her admission to the alms- 
 house, her gaunt frame twisted with dire rheumatics. 
 
 Hester, arriving to take up her duties and finding 
 Mrs. Trevarthen outworn with nursing, had packed 
 her off to rest and taken her place by the invalid's 
 bedside. In this service she had been faithful ever 
 since ; and it was no light one, for affliction did not 
 chasten Mrs. Butson's caustic tongue,
 
 31G SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Is she still sleeping ? " Hester glanced at the door. 
 
 " Ay, ever since you left. Her pains have wore 
 her out, belike. A terrible night! Why didn' you 
 call me sooner?" 
 
 " You have a letter, I see." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen nodded, obviously embarrassed. 
 " Keeping it for her, I was," she explained. " She do 
 dearly like to look rny letters over. She gets none 
 of her own, you see." 
 
 But Hester was not deceived, having observed 
 (without appearing to detect it) Mrs. Trevarthen's 
 difficulty with the written instructions on the medi- 
 cine bottles. 
 
 " But she will not wake for some time, we'll hope ; 
 and you haven't even broken the seal ! If you would 
 like me to read it to you — it would save your eyes ; 
 and I am very discreet — really I am." 
 
 Mrs. Trevarthen hesitated. " My eyes be bad, sure 
 enough," she said, weakening. " But you mustn't 
 blame me if you come across a word or two you 
 don't like." 
 
 " I shall remember no more of it than you choose," 
 said Hester, slightly puzzled. 
 
 " My Tom han't ever said a word agen' you, and 
 the odds are he'll say nothing now. Still, there's the 
 chance, and you can't rightly blame him." 
 
 " Tom ? " Hester's eyes opened wide. 
 
 " I know my own boy's writing, I should hope ! " 
 said Mrs. Trevarthen, with pardonable pride. " And 
 good writing it is. Sally Butson says she never 
 taught a boy whose hand did her more credit. But 
 what's the matter ? You'm as pale as a sheet almost ! "
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 317 
 
 "I — I didn't know" — stammered Hester, and 
 checked herself. 
 
 "You've been over-tiring yourself, and to-night 
 you'll just go off to bed early and leave the nursing 
 to me. What didn' you know? That Tom was a 
 scholar? A handsome scholar he'd have been, but 
 for going to sea early when his father died. I 
 wonder sometimes if he worries over it and the 
 chances he missed. But Quebec's the postmark ; 
 and that means he's right and safe, thank the Lord ! 
 I don't fret so long as he's aboard a well-found ship. 
 'Twas his signing aboard the One-and-All — ' Rose- 
 warne's coffin,' they call her — that nigh broke me. 
 He didn' let me know till two nights afore he sailed. 
 ' Beggars can't be choosers,' he said ; and afterwards 
 I found out from Peter Benny that he'd covered 
 his poor body with tatoo marks — his body that I've 
 a-washed hundreds o' times, and loved to feel his 
 legs kickin' agen' me. Beautiful skin he had as a 
 child ; soft as satin the feel of it, and not a blemish 
 anywhere. 'Tis hard to think of it criss-crossed 
 with them nasty marks. But there ! thank the Lord 
 God he's safe, this passage ! Read me what he says, 
 there's a kind soul ; but you'll have to bear a child 
 afore you know what I've a-been going through wi' 
 that letter starin' me in the face." 
 
 Hester, resting a shoulder against one of the oaken 
 pillars of the gallery, where the sunshine touched her 
 face with colour, broke the seal. 
 
 " Here is an enclosure— a post-office order for fifty 
 shilling 
 
 "God bless him I 'tis welcome; though I could
 
 Q 
 
 18 SHINING FERRY 
 
 have made shift at a pinch. Peter Benny manages 
 these things for me," said Mrs. Trevarthen, folding 
 it lengthwise and inserting it between the buttons of 
 her bodice. What she meant was that Mr. Benny as 
 a rule attested her mark and brought her the money 
 from the post-office. But Hester, busy with her own 
 thoughts, scarcely heard. Why had Tom Trevarthen 
 pretended to her that he could not write ? Why had 
 he trapped her into writing a letter for him — and to 
 this Harriet, whoever she might be? She unfolded 
 the letter and read, in bold, clear penmanship — 
 
 Quebec, 14^ February 1872. 
 " My DEAR MOTHER, — This is to enclose what I 
 can, and to tell you we arrived yesterday after a fair 
 passage, and dropped hook in the Basin below 
 Quebec ; all on board well and hearty, including Miss 
 Myra and Master Clem. But between ourselves the 
 old man won't last many more trips. His head is 
 weakening, and Mrs. Purchase, though she won't own 
 to it, is fairly worn with watching him. We hadn't 
 scarcely cleared the Channel before we ran into dirty 
 weather, with the wind W. to N.-W. and rising. We 
 looked, of course, for the old man to shorten sail 
 and send her along easy, he being noted for caution. 
 But not a bit of it. The second day out he comes 
 forward to me, that stood cocking an eye aloft and 
 waiting for him to speak, and says he, ' This is not 
 at all what I expected, but the Lord will provide ; ' 
 and with that he pulled out a Bible from his pocket 
 and tapped it, looking at me very knowing, and so 
 walked aft and shut himself up in his cabin. Not
 
 BUT TOM CAxN WRITE 319 
 
 another glimpse did we get of him for thirty-six 
 hours, and no message on earth could fetch him up 
 or persuade him to let us take a stitch off her. As 
 for old Hewitt, that has been mate of her these 
 fifteen years, and forgotten all he ever knew, except 
 to do what he's told, not a rag would he shift on 
 his own responsibility. There she was, with a new 
 foretop-sail never stretched before, and almost all 
 her canvas less than two years old, playing the mis- 
 chief with it all, let alone putting the ship in danger. 
 At last, when she was fairly smothering herself and 
 her topmasts bending like whips, up he pops, Bible 
 in hand, and says he, with a look aloft and around, 
 like a man more hurt than angry, ' Heavenly Father, 
 this won't do ! This here's a pretty state of things, 
 Heavenly Father ! ' When the boys had eased her 
 down a bit — at the risk of their lives it was — and 
 the old man had disappeared below again, Mrs. 
 1'urchase came crawling aft to me in the wheelhouse, 
 wet as a drowned rat ; and there we had a talk — 
 very confidential, though 'twas mostly carried on by 
 shouting. The upshot was, she couldn't trust the 
 old man's head. In his best days he'd have threaded 
 the Virtuous Lady through a needle, and was capable 
 yet; but with this craze upon him he was just as 
 capable of casting the ship away for the fun of it. 
 As for Hewitt, we found out his quality in the fogs 
 off the Banks, when the skipper struck work again 
 and let the dead-reckoning go to glory, telling us 
 to consider the lilies. Hewitt took it over, and in 
 two days had worked US south of our course by 
 eighty odd miles. By the Lord's mercy, on the
 
 320 SITTNING FERRY 
 
 third day we could take our bearings, and so hauled 
 up and fetch the Gulf; and here we are right and 
 tight, and Mrs. Purchase gone ashore to ship a 
 navigating officer for the passage home. But mates' 
 certificates don't run cheap in these parts, as they 
 do on Tower Hill, and the pilots tell me she'll be 
 lucky if she gets what she wants for love or money. 
 
 " Dear mother, remember me to all the folks, and 
 give my love to Granny Butson. Master Clem is 
 putting on flesh wonderful, and I reckon the pair of 
 them are in no hurry to get home to school. 
 
 " Talking of that, I would like to hear how the 
 school gets along, and Miss Marvin" — 
 
 " Eh ? " Mrs. Trevarthen interrupted. " Why, come 
 to think of it, he's never heard of your coming to 
 look after us, but reckons you'm still at the school- 
 mistressing. And you standing there and reading 
 out his very words ! I call that a proper joke." 
 
 " — and that limb of ugliness, Rosewarne. But 
 by the time this reaches you we shall be loaded 
 and ready for sailing ; so no news can I hear till I 
 get home, and perhaps it is lucky. Good-bye now. 
 If the world went right, it is not you would be 
 living in the Widows' Houses, nor I that would be 
 finding it hard to forgive folks ; but as Nicky Vro 
 used to say, ' Must thank the Lord, I reckon, that 
 we be so well as we be.' No more at present from 
 your loving son, TOM." 
 
 " I don't understand the tail-end o' that," said 
 Mrs. Trevarthen. " Would you mind reading it over
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 321 
 
 again, my dear? — Well, well, you needn't to flush up 
 so, that he finds it hard to forgive folks. Meanin' 
 you, d'ee think? He don't speak unkindly of any 
 but Rosevvarne ; and I don't mind that I've heard 
 news of that varmint for a month past. Have 
 you ? " 
 
 Hester did not answer — scarcely even heard. The 
 hand in which she held the letter fell limp at her side 
 as she stood gazing across the quadrangle facing 
 the sun, but with a soft, new-born light in her eyes, 
 that did not owe its kindling there. Why had he 
 played this trick on her? She could not explain, 
 and yet she understood. For her he had meant that 
 letter — yes, she was sure of it ! To her, as though 
 for another, he had spoken those words — she re- 
 membered every one of them. He had not dared 
 to speak directly. And he had made her write them 
 down. Foolish boy that he was, he had been 
 cunning. Did she forgive him ? She could not 
 help forgiving ; but it was foolish — foolish ! 
 
 She put on her bonnet that evening and walked 
 down to see Nuncey and have a talk with her ; not 
 to confide her secret, but simply because her elate 
 spirit craved for a talk. 
 
 Greatly to her disappointment, Nuncey was out; 
 nor could Mrs. Benny tell where the girl had gone, 
 unless (hazarding a guess) she had crossed the ferry 
 to her father's fine new office, to discuss fittings and 
 furniture. Nuncey had dropped into the habit, since 
 the days began to lengthen, of crossing the ferry after 
 tea-time. 
 
 I [ester decided to walk as far as the Passage Slip, 
 21
 
 322 SHINING FERRY 
 
 on the chance of meeting her. Somewhat to her 
 surprise, as she passed Broad Quay she almost ran 
 into Master Calvin Rosewarne, idling there with his 
 hands in his pockets, and apparently at a loose 
 end. 
 
 " Calvin ! Why, whatever are you doing here, on 
 this side of the water ? " 
 
 The boy — he had not the manners to take off 
 his cap — eyed her for a moment with an air half 
 suspicious and half defiant. " That's telling," he 
 answered darkly, and added, after a pause, " Were 
 you looking for anyone ? " 
 
 " I was hoping to meet Nuncey Benny. She has 
 gone across to her father's new office — or so Mrs. 
 Benny thinks." 
 
 The boy grinned. " She won't be coming this way 
 just yet, and she's not at the new office. But I'll 
 tell you where to find her, if you'll let me come along 
 with you." 
 
 On their way to the ferry he looked up once or 
 twice askance at her, as if half-minded to speak ; 
 but it was not until old Daddo had landed them 
 on the farther shore that he seemed to find his 
 tongue. 
 
 " Look here," he said abruptly, halting in the 
 roadway, and regarding her from under lowering 
 brows ; " the last time you took me in lessons you 
 told me to think less of myself and more of other 
 people. Didn't you, now?" 
 
 " Well ? " said Hester, preoccupied, dimly re- 
 membering that talk. 
 
 " Well, you seemed to forget your own teaching
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 323 
 
 pretty easily when you walked out of Hall and left 
 me there on the stream. Nice company you left me 
 to, didn't you ? " 
 
 " Your father " — began Hester lamely. 
 
 "We won't talk of Dad. He's altered— I don't 
 know how. I can't get on with him, though he's the 
 only person hereabouts that don't hate me ; I'll give 
 him that credit. But I ask you, wasn't it pretty 
 rough on a chap to haul him over the coals for 
 selfishness, and then march out and leave him 
 without another thought? And that's what you did." 
 
 " I am sorry." Hester's conscience accused her, 
 and she was contrite. The child must have found 
 life desperately dull. 
 
 " I forgive you," said Master Calvin, magnani- 
 mously, and resumed his walk. " I forgive you on 
 condition you'll do a small job for me. When Myra 
 turns up again — and sooner or later she'll turn up — I 
 want you to give her a message." 
 
 " Very well ; but why not give it yourself? " 
 
 " She don't speak to me, you know," he answered, 
 stooping to pick up a stone and bowl it down the 
 hill. It scattered a trio of ducks, gathered a few 
 yards below and cluttering with their bills in the 
 village stream, and he laughed as they waddled 
 off in panic. "That's how I'm left to amuse myself," 
 he said after a moment apologetically, but again half 
 defiantly. " You've to tell Myra," he went on, picking 
 lip another Stone, eyeing for an aim, and dropping it, 
 "that I like her pluck, but she needn't haw been in 
 such a hurry to teach the head of the family. Will 
 you remember that?"
 
 324 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " I will, although I don't know what you mean by it." 
 
 11 Never you mind, but take her that message ; 
 Myra will understand." 
 
 He stepped ahead a few paces, as if unwilling to be 
 questioned further. They passed the gate of Hall. 
 Beyond it, at the foot of the Jacob's Ladder leading 
 up to Parc-an-Hal, he whispered to her to halt, 
 climbed with great caution, and disappeared behind 
 the hedge of the great meadow ; but by and by he 
 came stealing back and beckoned to her. 
 
 " It's all right," he whispered ; "only step softly." 
 
 Keeping close alongside the lower hedge, he led the 
 way towards the great rick at the far corner of the 
 field. As they drew close to it he caught her arm 
 and pulled her aside, pointing to her shadow, which 
 the level sun had all but thrown beyond the rick. 
 
 " But what is the meaning of it ? " 
 
 The question was on her lips when her ear caught 
 the note of a voice — Nuncey's voice — and these words, 
 low, and yet distinct — 
 
 " At the call ' Attention ! ' the whole body and head 
 must be held erect, the chin slightly dropped, chest 
 well open, shoulders square to the front, eyes looking 
 straight forward. The arms must hang easily, with 
 fingers and thumbs straight, close to one another 
 and touching the thighs ; the feet turned out at right 
 angles or nearly. Now, please — 'Tention ! " — (a 
 pause) — " You break my heart, you do ! Eyes, I 
 said, looking straight forward '; and the weight of the 
 body ought to rest on the front part of the foot — not 
 tilted back on your heels and looking like a china cat 
 in a thunderstorm. Now try again, that's a dear ! "
 
 BUT TOM CAN WRITE 325 
 
 Hester gazed around wildly at Calvin, who was 
 twisting himself in silent contortions of mirth. 
 
 " Take a peep ! " he gasped. " She's courting 
 Archelaus Libby, and teaching him to look like a man." 
 
 " You odious child ! " Hester, ashamed of her life 
 to have been trapped into eavesdropping, and yet 
 doubting her ears, strode past the edge of the rick 
 and into full view. 
 
 Nuncey drew back with a cry. 
 
 " Hester Marvin ! " 
 
 Hester's eyes travelled past her and rested on 
 Archelaus. He, rigid at attention, caught and held 
 there spellbound, merely rolled a pair of agonized 
 eyes. 
 
 " Nuncey ! Archelaus ! What on earth are you 
 two doing? " 
 
 " Learnin' him to be a Volunteer, be sure ! " 
 answered Nuncey, her face the colour of a peony. 
 After an instant she dropped her eyes, her cheeks 
 confessing the truth. 
 
 " But — but why?" Hester stared from one to the 
 other. 
 
 "If he'd only be like other men!" protested 
 Nuncey. 
 
 Hester ran to her with a happy laugh. " But you 
 wouldn't wish him like other men !" 
 
 "I do, and I don't." Nuncey eluded her embrace, 
 having caught the sound of ribald laughter on the 
 other side of the rick. Darting around, she was in 
 time to catch Master Calvin two cuffs, right and left, 
 upon tin- ears. lie broke for the gate and she 
 pursued, but presently returned breathless.
 
 326 SHINING FERRY 
 
 " Tis wonderful to me," she said, eyeing Archelaus 
 critically and sternly, " how ever I come to listen to 
 him. But he softened me by talking about you. 
 He's a deal more clever than he seems, and I believe 
 at this moment he likes you best." 
 
 " I don't ! " said Archelaus firmly ; " begging your 
 pardon, Miss Marvin." 
 
 " I am sure you don't," laughed Hester. 
 
 " Well, anyway, I'll have to tell father now," said 
 Nuncey ; " for that imp of a boy will be putting it all 
 round the parish." 
 
 But here Archelaus asserted himself. " That's my 
 business," he said quietly. " It isn't any man's 'yes' 
 or 'no' I'm afraid of, Miss Marvin, having stood up 
 to her."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 MESSENGERS 
 
 IN Cornwall, they say, the cuckoo brings a gale of 
 wind with him ; and of all gales in the year this 
 is the one most dreaded by gardeners and cider- 
 men, for it catches the fruit trees in the height of their 
 blossoming season, and in its short rage wrecks a 
 whole year's promise. 
 
 Such a gale overtook the Virtuous Lady, homeward 
 bound, in mid-Atlantic. For two days and a night 
 she ran before it ; but this of course is a seaman's 
 phrase, and actually, fast as the wind hurled her 
 forward, she lagged back against it until she wallowed 
 in its wake, and her crew gave thanks and crept 
 below to their bunks, too dog-weary to put off their 
 sodden clothes. 
 
 The gale passed on and struck our south-western 
 coast, devastating the orchards of Cornwall and 
 Devon and carpeting them with unborn fruit — dulcis 
 vita; exsortcs. Amid this unthrifty waste and hard 
 by, off Berry Head, the schooner One -and- All 
 foundered and went down, not prematurely. 
 
 Foreseeing the end, her master had given orders to 
 lower the whale-boat. The schooner might be apple- 
 rotten, as her crew declared, but she carried a
 
 328 SHINING FERRY 
 
 whale-boat which had inspired confidence for years 
 and induced many a hesitating hand to sign articles ; 
 a seaworthy boat, to begin with, and by her owner's 
 and master's care made as nearly unsinkable as might 
 be, cork-fendered, fitted bow and stern with air tanks, 
 well found in all her gear. Woe betide the seaman 
 who abstracted an inch of rope from her to patch up 
 the schooner's crazy rigging, or who left a life-belt 
 lying loose around the deck or a rowlock unrestored 
 to its due place after the weekly scrub-down ! 
 
 The crew, then, launched the boat — half filling her 
 in the process — and, tumbling in, pulled for the lee 
 of the high land between Berry Head and Brixham. 
 The master took the helm. He was steering without 
 one backward look at the abandoned ship, when the 
 oarsmen ceased pulling, all together, with a cry of 
 dismay. 
 
 On the schooner's deck stood a child, waving his 
 arms despairingly. 
 
 How he came there they could not tell, nor who he 
 was. The master, not understanding their outcry, 
 cursed and shouted to them to pull on. But already 
 the starboard oars were holding water and the bow- 
 man bringing her around head-to-sea. 
 
 " Good Lord deliver us ! " 
 
 The master carried a pair of binoculars slung in a 
 leathern case about his shoulders inside his oilskin 
 coat. They had been given to him by public sub- 
 scription many years before, with a purse of gold, 
 as a reward for saving life at sea. Since then he 
 had forgotten in whisky-drinking and money-getting 
 all the generous courage of his youth. His business
 
 MESSENGERS 329 
 
 for many years had been to play with human life for 
 his own and his owner's profit, with no care but to 
 keep on the right side of the law. The noble impulse 
 which had earned him this testimonial was dead 
 within him ; to recover it he must have been born 
 again. He might even, by keeping his pumps going 
 and facing out the peril for another couple of hours, 
 have run the One-and-All into Torbay and saved her ; 
 but he had not wanted to save her. Nevertheless, 
 when he had run down to collect his few treasures 
 from the cabin, these binoculars were his first and 
 chiefest thought, for they attached him to something 
 in his base career which had been noble. So careful 
 was he, so fearful of facing eternity and judgment — 
 if drown he must — without them, that, although the 
 time was short and the danger instant, and the man 
 by this time a coward, he had stripped off oilskin coat 
 and pea-jacket to indue them again and button them 
 over his treasure. 
 
 Yet either his hands were numb or the sea-water 
 had penetrated these wraps and damped the tag of 
 the leathern case, making it difficult to open. When 
 at length he tugged the binoculars free and sighted 
 them, it was to catch one glimpse, and the last, of the 
 child waving from the bulwarks. 
 
 " Good Lord deliver us ! " 
 
 A high-crested wave blotted out the schooner's 
 hull. She seemed to sink behind it, almost to mid- 
 way of her main shrouds. She would lift again into 
 sight as that terrible wave went by — 
 
 But she did not. The wave went by, but no 
 portion of her hull appeared. With a slow lurch
 
 330 SHINING FERRY 
 
 forward she was gone, and the seas ran over her as 
 though she and her iniquity had never been. 
 
 In that one glimpse through his binoculars the 
 master, and he alone of the crew, had recognised the 
 child — Calvin Rosewarne, his owner's son. 
 
 To their credit, the men pulled back for the spot 
 where the One-and-All had gone down. Not till an 
 hour's battling had taught them the hopelessness of a 
 search hopeless from the first did they turn the boat 
 and head again for Brixham. 
 
 The news, telegraphed from Brixham, began to 
 spread through Troy soon after midday. Since the 
 law allowed it, over-insurance was accepted by public 
 opinion in the port almost as a matter of ordinary 
 business ; almost, but not quite. In his heart every 
 citizen knew it to be damnable, and voices had been 
 raised in public calling it damnable. Men and women 
 who would have risked nothing to amend the law so 
 far felt the public conscience agreeing with their own 
 that they talked freely of Rosewarne's punishment as 
 a judgment of God. Folks in the street canvassed 
 the news, insensibly sinking their voices as they 
 stared across the water at the elm trees of Hall. 
 Behind those elms lay a house, and within that 
 house would be sitting a man overwhelmed by 
 God's vengeance. 
 
 In the late afternoon a messenger knocked at 
 Hester's door with a letter. It was brought to her 
 where she sat, with Mrs. Trevarthen, by Aunt 
 Butson's bedside, and it said —
 
 MESSENGERS 331 
 
 " I wish to speak with you this evening, if you are 
 willing. — S. ROSEWARNE." 
 
 She rose at once, silently, with a glance at her two 
 companions. They had not spoken since close upon 
 an hour. When first the news came the old woman 
 on the bed had raised herself upon her elbow, 
 struggled a moment for utterance, and burst into 
 a paean of triumphant hatred, horrible to hear. Mrs. 
 Trevarthen sat like one stunned. " Hush 'ee, 
 Sarah ! Hush 'ee, that's a good soul ! " she mur- 
 mured once and again in feeble protest. At length 
 Hester, unable to endure it longer, had risen, taken 
 the invalid by one shoulder and forced her gently 
 back upon the pillow. 
 
 "Tell me to go," she said, "and I will leave you 
 and not return. But to more of this I will not listen. 
 I believed you an ill-used woman ; but you are far 
 less wronged than wicked if you can rejoice in the 
 death of a child." 
 
 Since then the invalid had lain quiet, staring up 
 at the ceiling. She did not know — nor did Mrs. 
 Trevarthen know — whose letter Hester held in her 
 hand. But now, as Hester moved towards the door, 
 a weak voice from the bed entreated her — 
 
 "You won't leave me! I didn't mean that about 
 the child— I didn't, really ! " 
 
 " She didn't mean it," echoed Mrs. Trevarthen. 
 
 " I know — I know," said Hester, and stretched out 
 both arms in sudden weariness, almost despair. " But 
 oh! why in this world of burdens can we not cast 
 away hate, the worst and wilfullest?"
 
 332 SHINING FERRY 
 
 It seemed to her that in her own mind during 
 these few weeks a light had been steadily growing, 
 illuminating many things she had been wont to 
 puzzle over or habitually to pass by as teasing and 
 obscure. She saw the whole world constructed on 
 one purpose, that all living creatures should love and 
 help one another to be happy. Even such a man as 
 Rosewarne found a place in it, as one to be pitied 
 because he erred against this light. Yes, and even 
 the death of this child had a place in the scheme, 
 since, calling for pity, it called for one of the divinest 
 exercises of love. She marvelled, as she crossed in 
 the ferry-boat, why the passengers, one and all, dis- 
 cussed it as a direct visitation upon Rosewarne, as 
 though Rosewarne had offended against some agree- 
 ment in which they and God Almighty stood 
 together, and they had left the fellow in God's 
 hands with a confidence which yet allowed them 
 room to admire the dramatic neatness of His 
 methods. She longed to tell them that they were 
 all mistaken, and her eyes sought old Daddo's, who 
 alone took no part in this talk. But old Daddo 
 pulled his stroke without seeming to listen, his brow 
 puckered a little, his eyes bent on the boat's wake 
 abstractedly as though he communed with an inward 
 vision. 
 
 At the front door of Hall Susannah met her, white 
 and tearful. 
 
 " I heard that he'd sent for you." Susannah sank 
 her voice almost to a whisper. " He's in the counting- 
 house. You be'n't afeard ? " 
 
 " Why should I be afraid ? "
 
 MESSENGERS 333 
 
 " I don't know. He's that strange. For months 
 now he've a-been strange ; but for two days he've 
 a-sat there, wi'out food or drink, and the door locked 
 most of the time. Not for worlds would I step into 
 that room alone." 
 
 " For two days ? " 
 
 " Ever since he opened the poor child's letter ; for 
 a letter there was, though the Lord knows what was 
 in it. You're sure you be'n't afeard ? " 
 
 Hester stepped past her and through the great 
 parlour, and tapped gently on the counting-house 
 door. Her knock was answered by the sound of a 
 key turning in the lock, and Rosewarne opened to her. 
 
 At the moment she could not see his face, for a 
 lamp on the writing-table behind silhouetted him in 
 black shadow. Her eyes wandered over the room's 
 disarray, and all her senses quailed together in its 
 exhausted atmosphere. 
 
 He closed the door, but did not lock it again, 
 motioned her to a chair, and dropped heavily into 
 his accustomed seat by the writing-table, where for a 
 while his fingers played nervously with the scattered 
 papers. Now by the lamplight she noted the extreme 
 greyness of his face and the hard brilliance of his 
 eyes, usually so dull and fish-like. 
 
 " I am much obliged to you for coming," he began 
 in a level, almost business-like tone, but without 
 looking up. " There are some questions I want to 
 ask. You have heard the news, of course?" 
 
 "Everyone has heard. I am sorry — so sorry! It 
 is terrible." 
 
 "Thank you," said he, with a slight inclination of
 
 334 SHINING FERRY 
 
 the head, as though acknowledging some remark of 
 small and ordinary politeness. " Perhaps you would 
 like to see this ? " He picked up a crumpled sheet 
 of notepaper, smoothed out the creases, and handed 
 it to her. Taking it, she read this, written in a 
 childish, ill-formed hand — 
 
 " Dear Father, — When this reaches you I shall be 
 at sea. I hope you won't mind very much, as it runs 
 in the family, and some of those that done it have 
 turned out best. I don't get any good staying at 
 home. I love you and you love me, but nobody 
 else does, and nobody understands. I thought Miss 
 Marvin understood, but she went away and forgot. 
 Never mind, it will be all right when I am a man. 
 I will come back, for you mustn't think I don't love 
 you.— Your affect, son, C. ROSEWARNE." 
 
 As Hester looked up she found Mr. Samuel's eyes 
 fixed on her for the first time, and fixed on her 
 curiously. 
 
 "You don't approve, perhaps, of cousins marry- 
 ing?" he asked slowly. 
 
 Was the man mad, as Susannah had hinted? 
 
 « i — I don't understand you, Mr. Rosewarne." 
 
 " Your mother had an only sister— an elder sister 
 — who went out to Dominica, and there married a 
 common soldier. Did you know this?" 
 
 " I knew that my mother had a sister, and that there 
 had been some disgrace. My father never spoke of 
 it, and my mother died when I was very young ; but 
 in some way — as children do — I came to know." 
 
 " I thought you might know more, but it does not
 
 MESSENGERS 335 
 
 matter now. My father was that common soldier, 
 and the disgrace did not lie in her marrying him. 
 Before the marriage — I have a copy here of the 
 entry in the register — a child was born. Yes, stare 
 at me well, Cousin Hester, stare at me, your cousin, 
 though born in bastardy ! " 
 
 His eyes seemed to force her backward, and she 
 leaned back, clasping the arms of her chair. 
 
 " I learnt this a short while before my father died. 
 I had only his word for it — he gave me no particu- 
 lars ; but I have hunted them up, and he told me 
 the truth. Knowing them, I concealed them for the 
 sake of the child that was drowned to-day ; other- 
 wise, the estate being entailed, his inheritance would 
 have passed to Clem, and he and I were interlopers. 
 Are you one of those who believe that God has 
 punished me by drowning my son ? You have 
 better grounds than the rest for believing it." 
 
 " No," said Hester, after a long pause, remembering 
 what thoughts had been in her mind as she crossed 
 the ferry. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 . " The child had done no evil. God is just, or God 
 does not exist. He must have had some other 
 purpose than to punish you." 
 
 " You are right. He may have used that purpose 
 to afflict me yet the more — though I don't believe it; 
 but my true punishment — my worse punishment — 
 began long before. Cousin, cousin, you see clearly ! 
 How often might you have helped me during these 
 months I have been in hell ! Can you think how 
 a man feels who is afraid of himself? No, you
 
 336 SHINING FERRY 
 
 cannot ; but I say to you there is no worse hell, and 
 through that hell I have been walking since the day 
 I went near to killing Clem. You saved me that 
 once, and then you turned and left me. I wanted 
 you — no, not to marry me ! When a man fears him- 
 self he thinks no more of affection. I wanted you, 
 I craved for you, to save me — to save me again and 
 again, and as often as the madness mastered me. A 
 word from you would have made me docile as a child. 
 I should have done you no hurt. On your walks and 
 about your lodging at night I have dogged you for 
 that word, afraid to show myself, afraid to knock and 
 demand it. By this time I had discovered you were 
 my cousin. ' Blood is thicker than water ' — over and 
 over I told myself this. ' Sooner or later,' I said, 
 ' the voice in our blood will whisper to her, and she 
 will turn and help my need.' But you never turned, 
 and why? Because you were in love, and if fear is 
 selfish, love is selfish too ! " 
 
 He paused for breath, eyeing her with a gloomy, 
 bitter smile. " Oh, there's no harm in my knowing 
 your secret," he went on. " I'm past hating Tom 
 Trevarthen, and past all jealousy. All I ever asked 
 was that he should spare you to help me — a cup of 
 cold water for a tongue in hell ; I didn't want your 
 love. But that's where the selfishness of love comes 
 in. It can't spare even what it doesn't need for 
 itself. It wants the whole world to be happy; but 
 when the unhappy cry to it, it doesn't hear." 
 
 Hester stood up, her eyes brimming. " You are 
 right," she said, " I did not hear. I never guessed 
 at all. Tell me now that I can help."
 
 MESSENGERS 337 
 
 "It is too late," he answered. " I no longer want 
 your help." 
 
 " Surely to-day, if ever, you need your neighbours' 
 pity and their prayers ? " 
 
 He laughed aloud. " That shows how little you 
 understand ! You and my precious neighbours think 
 of me as brooding here, mourning for my lost boy. 
 I tell you I am glad — yes, glad ! This is no part of 
 God's punishment ! It was the future I feared : He 
 has taken it from me. I can suffer at ease now, 
 knowing the end. See now, I have confessed to you 
 the wrong I did that blind child, and the confession 
 has eased me. I could not have confessed it yester- 
 day — the burden of living grows lighter, you perceive. 
 I don't repent ; it doesn't seem to me that I have any 
 use for repentance. If what I have done deserves 
 punishment in another world, I must suffer it ; but 
 I know it cannot be half what I have suffered of late. 
 No, cousin, I need you no longer. There is no sting 
 to rankle, now that hope — hope for my boy — has 
 gone. I can rest quiet now, with my own damna- 
 tion." 
 
 She put out a hand, protesting, but he turned from 
 her — they were standing face to face — and opening 
 the door, stood aside to let her pass. 
 
 " I thank you for coming," he said gravely. " What 
 I have told you — about the inheritance, I mean — will 
 be no secret after the next few days." 
 
 She halted and looked at him inquiringly. " It 
 will be a secret safe with me," she said. Her eyes 
 still searched his. 
 
 For the second time he laughed. " The children 
 
 22
 
 338 SHINING FERRY 
 
 will be home in a few days ; I wait here till then. 
 That is all I meant." 
 
 In the dusk by the ferry-slip old Daddo stood ready 
 to push off. Hester was the only passenger, for it 
 was Saturday, and on Saturdays, at this hour, all the 
 traffic flowed away from the town, returning from 
 market to the country. 
 
 Her eyes were red, and it may be that old Daddo 
 noted this, for midway across, and without any warn- 
 ing, he rested on his oars, scanning her earnestly. 
 
 " You have been calling on Rosewarne, miss ? — 
 making so bold." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I see'd you looking t'ards me just now as we 
 crossed. I see'd you glance up as they, in their 
 foolishness, was reckoning they knew the mind o' 
 God. Tell me, miss, how he bears it?" 
 
 " He bears it ; but without hope, for his trouble 
 goes deeper."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 HOME 
 
 MR. BENNY, arriving next morning at the 
 ferry to cross over to his office, opened his 
 eyes very wide indeed to see the boat wait- 
 ing by the slip and his late master, Samuel Rose- 
 warne, standing solitary within it, holding on to a 
 shore-ring by the boat-hook. 
 
 " But whatever has become of Daddo ? " Mr. 
 Benny's gaze, travelling round, rested for one moment 
 of wild suspicion on the door of the " Sailor's 
 Return," hard by. 
 
 " With your leave he has given up his place to me 
 for a while," said Rosewarne slowly. " I have come 
 to ask you that favour, Mr. Benny." 
 
 The little man stepped on board, wondering, nor 
 till half-way across could he find speech. 
 
 " It hurts me to see you doing this, sir ; it does 
 indeed. If old Nicky Vro could look down and see 
 you so demeaning yourself, you can't think but he'd 
 say 'twas too much." 
 
 " 1 did Nicky Vro an injury once, and a mortal 
 one. But I never gave him licence to know, on earth 
 or in heaven, what my conscience requires. 1 1
 
 340 SHINING FERRY 
 
 requires this, Mr. Benny ; and unless you forbid it, 
 we'll say no more." 
 
 The common opinion on both shores was that grief 
 had turned Rosewarne's brain. He had prepared 
 himself against laughter ; but no one laughed : and 
 though, as the news spread, curiosity brought many 
 to the shores to see, the groups dispersed as the boat 
 approached. Public penance is a rare thing in these 
 days, and all found it easier to believe that the man 
 was mad. Some read the Lord's retributive hand 
 again in the form his madness took. 
 
 In silence he took the passengers' coppers or 
 handed them their change. Few men had ever 
 opened talk with Rosevvarne, and none were bold 
 enough to attempt it in the three days during which 
 he plied the ferry. 
 
 "You left him lonely to his sinning; leave him 
 alone now," said old Daddo, tilling his cottage-garden 
 up the hill, to the neighbours who leaned across his 
 fence questioning him about his share in the strange 
 business. His advice was idle ; they could not help 
 themselves. Something in Rosewarne's face forbade 
 speech. 
 
 On the evening of the third day he saw the signal 
 for which he waited — the smoke of a tug rising 
 above the low roofs on the town quay, and above 
 the smoke the top-gallants and royals of a tall 
 vessel pencilled against the sunset's glow. With his 
 eyes upon the vision he rowed to shore and silently 
 as ever took the fees of his passengers and gave them 
 their change ; then, having made fast the boat, he 
 walked up to Mr. Benny's office.
 
 HOME 341 
 
 " You have done me one service," he said. " I 
 ask you to do me a second. The Virtuous Lady has 
 come into port ; in five minutes or less she will drop 
 anchor. Take boat and pull to her. Tell Mrs. Pur- 
 chase that I have gone up the hill to Hall, and will 
 be waiting there ; and if you can persuade her, bring 
 her ashore in your boat." 
 
 Mr. Benny reached up for his hat. 
 
 " Say that I am waiting to speak with her alone. 
 On no account must she bring the children." 
 
 Up in the Widows' Houses, high above the murmur 
 of the little port, no ear caught the splash as the 
 Virtuous Lady's anchor found and held her to home 
 again. In Aunt Butson's room Hester sat and read 
 aloud to her patient. The book was the Book of 
 I'roverbs, from which Aunt Butson professed that she, 
 for her part, derived more comfort than from all the 
 four Gospels put together. For an hour Hester read 
 on steadily, and then, warned by the sound of regular 
 breathing, glanced at the bed and shut the Bible. 
 
 Rising, she paused for a moment, watching the 
 sleeper, opened and closed the door behind her gently, 
 and bent her steps towards Mrs. Trevarthen's room, 
 at the far end of the gallery ; but on the way her 
 eyes fell on a group of daffodils in bloom below, in 
 the quadrangle. Two flights of stairs led up from 
 the quadrangle, one at either end of the gallery; 
 and Stepping back to the head of that one which 
 mounted not far from Aunt Butson's door, she 
 
 cended and plucked a handful of the flowers. 
 
 Returning to the gallery by the other stairway, she
 
 342 SHINING FERRY 
 
 was more than a little surprised to see Mrs. Tre- 
 varthen's door, at the head of it, almost wide open. 
 For Mrs. Trevarthen, worn-out and weary, had left 
 her only an hour ago under a solemn promise to go 
 straight to bed, and Hester had been minded to 
 arrange these flowers for her while she slept. 
 
 " Mrs. Trevarthen ! " she called indignantly from 
 the stair-head. " Mrs. Trevarthen ! What did you 
 promise me? " 
 
 A tall figure, dark against the farther window, rose 
 from its stooping posture over the bed where Mrs. 
 Trevarthen lay, turned, and confronted her in the 
 doorway with a glad and wondering stare. 
 
 " Miss Marvin ! " 
 
 " Tom ! oh, Tom ! " cried his mother's voice within. 
 " To think I haven't told you ! But you give me no 
 time ! " 
 
 A minute later, as Hester walked away along the 
 gallery, she heard his step following. 
 
 " But why wouldn't you come in ? " he demanded, 
 and went on before she could answer, " To think of 
 your being Matron here ! But of course mother had 
 no time to reach me with a letter." 
 
 " She gave me yours to read," said Hester mis- 
 chievously ; whereat Tom flushed and looked away 
 and laughed. " Tell me," she went on. " What did 
 she answer?" 
 
 "She? Who?" 
 
 " Why, Harriet — wasn't that her name ? " 
 
 " There's no such person." 
 
 " What ? Do you mean to say it was all a trick, 
 and there's no Harriet Sands in existence? "
 
 HOME 343 
 
 " You're wrong now. There is a Harriet Sands, 
 and she belongs to Runcorn too ; only she's a 
 ship." 
 
 " A ship ! And the letter you made me write — it 
 almost made me cry, too — was that meant only for a 
 ship ? " 
 
 " No, it was not — but you're laughing at me." He 
 turned almost savagely, and catching sight of some- 
 thing in her eyes, stood still. "If you only knew — 
 do you know ? " 
 
 " I wish I did— I think I do." 
 
 He caught at her hands and clasped them over the 
 daffodils. 
 
 " If ever I'm a widow," said a panting voice a few 
 paces away, " if ever I'm a widow (which the Lord 
 forbid !), I'll end my days on a ground floor 'pon the 
 flat. Companion-ladders is bad enough when you've 
 a man to look after ; but when you've put 'en away 
 and can take your meals easy, to chase a bereaved 
 woman up a hill like the side of a house, an' then 
 up a flight of stairs, for five shillings a week and all 
 found— O-oh ! " 
 
 Mrs. Purchase halted at the stair-head ; and it is a 
 question which of three faces was redder. 
 
 "O-oh !" repeated Mrs. Purchase. " Here come I 
 with news enough to upset a town, and simmin' to 
 me here's a pair that won't value it more'n a rush. 
 Well-a-well ! Am I to go away, my dears, or wish 
 'ce fortune? You're a sly fellow too, Tom Tievar- 
 tlicn, to go and git hold of a schoolmistress, when 'tis 
 only a little schoolin' you want to get a certificate
 
 344 SHINING FERRY 
 
 and be master of a ship. That's the honest truth, 
 my dear " — she turned to Hester. " 'Twas he that 
 worked the Virtuous Lady home, and if you can 
 teach 'en navigation to pass the board, he shall have 
 her and you too. Do I mean it ? Iss, fay, I mean 
 it. I'm hauled ashore. Tis ( Lord, now lettest Thou 
 Thy servant,' with Hannah Purchase." 
 
 Late that evening Clem and Myra walked hand in 
 hand, hushed, through the unkempt garden — their 
 garden now, though to their childish intelligence no 
 more theirs than it had always been. They might 
 lift their voices now and run shouting with no one to 
 rebuke them. They understood this, yet somehow 
 they did not put it to the proof. Home was home, 
 and the old constraint a part of it. 
 
 Late that same evening Samuel Rosewarne passed 
 down the streets of Plymouth and unlatched the door 
 of a dingy house which, empty of human love, of 
 childhood, of friendship, was yet his home and the 
 tolerable refuge of his soul. He no longer feared 
 himself. He could face the future. He could live 
 out his life. 
 
 Printed by Morrison & Gibb Limited, Edinburgh
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CAYLORD 
 
 
 
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 iJNUl R .IT < l)l C* RIV RSipl I lljpARY 
 
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