"Not rich, mother, but I have sixteen hundred pounds at interest."
"Sixteen hundred silent pounds, and they might have been busy, happy, working pounds! Aw, Denas, what hours of black care the knowing of them might have saved us. But there, then--I had forgotten. The money be dance money and theatre money, and your father will not touch a penny of it. I do know he will not."
"Mother, when I stopped singing--when I left the theatre for ever I had not in my purse one half-penny. Roland gave me fifty dollars; that came from Elizabeth--that was all I had. When it was gone, Roland was employed by Mr. Lanhearne. I told you about him."
"Yes, dear. How then?"
"Roland"s father left him pictures and silver plate and many valuable things belonging to the Treshams, and when Roland died they were mine.
Elizabeth bought them from me. They were worth two thousand pounds; she gave me sixteen hundred pounds."
"Why didn"t you tell father and me? "Twas cruel thoughtless of you."
"No, no! I wanted to come back to you as I left you--just Denas--without anything but your love to ask favour from. If I had come swelling myself like a great lady, worth sixteen hundred pounds, how all the people would have hated me! What dreadful things they would have said!
Father would have had his hands full and his heart full to make this one and that one keep the insult behind their lips. Oh, "twould have been a broad defiance to evil of every kind. I did think, too, that father had some money in St. Merryn"s Bank."
"To be sure. And so he did. But there--your aunt Helen"s husband was drowned last winter, and nothing laid by to bury him, and father had it to do; and then there was a mortgage on the cottage, and that was to lift, or no roof to cover Helen and her children. So with this and that the one hundred pounds went away to forty pounds. That be for our own burying. There be twenty pounds of yours there."
"Mine is yours!" Then rising quickly, she struck her hands sharply together and cried out: "ONE and ALL! ONE and ALL!"[4]
And Joan answered her promptly, letting the towel fall from her grasp to imitate the sharp smiting of the hands as with beaming face she repeated the heart-stirring cry.
"ONE and ALL! ONE and ALL! Denas. Aw, my girl, there was a time when I said in my anger I was sorry I gave you suck. This day I be right glad of it! You be true blood! Cornish clean through, Denas!"
"Yes, I be true Cornish, mother, and the money I have is honest money.
Father can take it without a doubt. But I will see Lawyer Tremaine, and he shall put the sum I got in the St. Penfer _News_, and tell what I got it for, and none can say I did wrong to take my widow right."
"I be so happy, Denas! I be so happy! My old dear will have his own boat! My old dear will have his own boat!"
"Now, mother, neither you nor I can buy a boat. Shall we tell father and let him choose for himself?"
Joan knew this was the most prudent plan, but that love of "surprise pleasures" which is a dominant pa.s.sion in children and uneducated natures would not let Joan admit at once this solution of the difficulty. How could she forego the delight of all the private consultations; of the bringing home of the boat; of the wonder of the villagers; of John"s happy amazement? She could not bear to contemplate the prosaic, commonplace method of sending John to buy his own boat when it was within the power of Denas and herself to be an unseen gracious providence to him. So after a moment"s thought she said: "There be Tris Penrose. It will be busy all and happy all for him to be about such a job."
"I have not seen Tris since I came home. He is the only one who has not come to say welcome to me."
"Aw, then, "twas only yesterday he got home himself. He has been away with Mr. Arundel on his yacht."
"You never told me."
"You never asked. I thought, then, you didn"t want Tris to be named."
"But what for shouldn"t I name Tris?"
"La! my dear, the love in Tris" heart was a trouble to you. You were saying that often."
"But Tris knows about fishing-boats?"
"Who knows more?"
"And what kind of a boat father would like best?"
"None can tell that as well."
"And Tris is home again?"
"That be true. Ann Trewillow told me, and she be working at the Abbey two days in the week."
"Has Mr. Arundel bought the Abbey?"
"He has done that, and it be made a grand place now. And when Tris lost his boat trying to save your father"s life and boat, Mr. Arundel was with the coast-guard and saw him. And he said: "A fine young man!
A fine young man!" So the next thing was, he spoke to Tris and hired him to sail his yacht. And "tis far off, by the way of Giberaltar, they have been--yet home at last, thank G.o.d!"
"Tris will be sure to come here, I suppose?"
"Ann Trewillow told him you were home--a widow, and all; he will be here as soon as he can leave the yacht. It is here he comes first of all as soon as he touches land again."
"Then we will speak to him about the boat."
"To be sure. And I do wish he would hurry all and show himself. New boats be building, but the best may get sold--a day might make a difference."
"And now, mother, you must try and lift the care from father"s heart.
Let him know, some way, that money troubles are over and that he may carry his head up. You can do it--a little word--a little look from you--he will understand."
"Aw, then, Denas, a smile is enough. I can lift my eyelids, and he"ll see the light under them and catch it in his heart. John isn"t a woman. Thank G.o.d, he can be happy and ask no questions--trusting all.
Your father be a good man to trust and hope."
Then the day, that had seemed to stretch itself out so long and wearily, was all too short for Joan and Denas. They talked about the money freely and happily, and Denas could now tell her mother all the circ.u.mstances of her visit to Elizabeth. They were full of interest to the simple woman. She enjoyed hearing about the dress Elizabeth wore; about her house, her anger, her disappointment, and hard reluctance to pay money for the treasures she had begun to regard as her own.
So the morning pa.s.sed quickly away, and in the afternoon Denas went into the village to look after her school-room. It was such a lovely spring day. The sky was so blue, the sea was so blue, the earth was so green and sweet, and the air so fresh and clear that Denas could not but be glad that she was alive to be cheered by them. Not for a very long time had she felt so calmly happy, so hopeful of the future, so resigned to the past.
After her business in the village was over she walked toward the cliff. She had some idea that it would be pleasant to go up to the church town, but just where the trees and underwood came near to the shingle a little bird singing on a May-thorn beguiled her to listen.
Then the songster went on and on, as if it called her, and Denas followed its music; until, by and by, she came to where the shingle was but a narrow strip, and the verdure retreated, and the rocks grew larger and higher; and, anon, she was at the promontory between St.
Penfer and St. Clair.
It would now be impossible to go up the cliff and back again before tea-time, and she sat down to rest a little before returning home. She sat longer than she intended, for the dreamy, monotonous murmur of the waves and the stillness and solitude predisposed her to that kind of drifting thought which keeps a.s.suring time: "I am going directly."
She was effectually roused at last by the sound of a clear, strong voice whistling a charming melody. She sat quite still. A conviction that it was Tris Penrose came into her heart. She wondered if he would notice--know--speak to her. Tris saw her figure as quickly as it came within his vision, and as quickly as he saw it he knew who was present. He ceased whistling and cried out cheerily:
"Denas? What, Denas?"
She stood up then and held out her hands to him. And she was startled beyond measure by the Tris that met her gaze. Naturally a very handsome man, his beauty was made most attractive by a sailor suit of blue broadcloth. His throat was open to the sea breeze, a blue kerchief tied around it in a sailor"s knot. And then her eyes wandered to his sun-browned face, close-curling black hair, and the little blue, gold-trimmed cap set upon the curls. The whole filled her with a pleasant wonder. She made a little time over his splendour, and asked if he was going to the pilchard fishing in such finery. And he took all her hurried, laughing, fluttering remarks with the greatest good-humour. He said, indeed, that he had been told she was home again, and that he wore the dress because he was coming to see her.
Then they sat down, and she told Tris what she desired to do for her father, and Tris entered into the project as enthusiastically as if he was a child. Never before had Tris felt so heart-satisfied. It was such a joy to have Denas beside him; such a joy to know that she was free again; such a joy to share a secret with her. And gradually the effusiveness of their first meeting toned itself down to quiet, restful confidence, and then they rose together and began to walk slowly toward the cottage. For of course Joan was to be consulted, and besides, Tris had a present for her in his pocket.
The westering sun sent level rays of sunshine before them, and they tried involuntarily to step in it as they used to do when they were children. Tris could not help a smile as they did so, and then one of those closely personal conversations began whose initial point is always: "And do you remember?" Tris remembered everything, and especially one Sat.u.r.day when they ran away together to a little fairy cove and made boats all day long. Yes, every movement of that happy day was in Tris" heart, and he told Denas that the same pebbly sh.o.r.e was still there, and that often he fancied he heard on it the beat of their little pattering, naked feet, and wished that they could have been children upon the sh.o.r.e for ever, and ever, and evermore.
"I do not think that would have been nice at all, Tris," answered Denas. "It is better to be grown up. You were only good to play with then. I could not have asked you to go and buy a boat for father, could I?"
And Tris looked at her sweet, pale face, and noting how the pink colour rushed into her cheeks to answer his looks, thought how right she was, and that it was much better to have Denas a woman to be loved than a child to be played with.