Then Oliver started up. "I will go and reconnoitre, myself."
"No," said the father. "Leave all to me. You must on no account meddle in this matter."
"Why not?"
"Because"--the old man coughed. "Do you not understand--you are a young man."
Oliver colored, and said no more. He had not great confidence in his father"s being able to do anything effectual for Judith. The step he had recently taken was injudicious and dangerous, and could further the end in view in no way.
He said no more to old Mr. Menaida, but he resolved to act himself, in spite of the remonstrance made and the objection raised by his father.
No sooner was the elder man gone to bed, than he sallied forth and took the direction of Pentyre. It was a moonlight night. Clouds indeed rolled over the sky, and for awhile obscured the moon, but a moment after it flared forth again. A little snow had fallen and frosted the ground, making everything unburied by the white flakes to seem inky black. A cold wind whistled mournfully over the country. Oliver walked on, not feeling the cold, so glowing were his thoughts, and came within sight of the Glaze. His father had informed him that there were guests in the hall; but when he approached the house, he could see no lights from the windows. Indeed, the whole house was dark, as though everyone in it were asleep, or it were an uninhabited ruin. That most of the windows had shutters he was aware, and that these might be shut so as to exclude the chance of any ray issuing he also knew. He could not therefore conclude that all the household had retired for the night.
The moon was near its full. It hung high aloft in an almost cloudless sky. The air was comparatively still--still it never is on that coast, nor is it ever unthrilled by sound. Now, above the throb of the ocean, could be heard the shrill clatter and cry of the gulls. They were not asleep; they were about, fishing or quarrelling in the silver light.
Oliver rather wondered at the house being so hushed--wondered that the guests were all dismissed. He knew in which wing of the mansion was Judith"s room, and also which was Judith"s window. The pure white light shone on the face of the house and glittered in the window-panes.
As Oliver looked, thinking and wondering, he saw the cas.e.m.e.nt opened, and Judith appeared at it, leaned with her elbow on the sill, and rested her face in her hand, looking up at the moon. The light air just lifted her fine hair. Oliver noticed how delicately pale and fragile she seemed--white as a gull, fragile as porcelain. He would not disturb her for a moment or two; he stood watching, with an oppression on his heart, and with a film forming over his eyes. Could nothing be done for the little creature? She was moped up in her room.
She was imprisoned in this house, and she was wasting, dying in confinement.
And now he stole noiselessly nearer. There was an old cattle-shed adjoining the house, that had lost its roof. Coppinger concerned himself little about agriculture, and the shed that had once housed cows had been suffered to fall to ruin, the slates had been blown off, then the rain had wetted and rotted the rafters, and finally the decayed rafters had fallen with their remaining load of slates, leaving the walls alone standing.
Up one of the sides of this ruinous shed Oliver climbed, and then mounted to the gable, whence he could speak to Judith. But she must have heard him, and been alarmed, for she hastily closed the cas.e.m.e.nt.
Oliver, however, did not abandon his purpose. He broke off particles of mortar from the gable of the cow-house and threw them cautiously against the window. No notice was taken of the first or the second particle that clickered against a pane; but at the third a shadow appeared at the window, as though Judith had come to the cas.e.m.e.nt to look out. Oliver was convinced that he could be seen; as he was on the very summit of the gable, and he raised his hands and arms to ensure attention.
Suddenly the shadow was withdrawn. Then hastily he drew forth a sc.r.a.p of paper, on which he had written a few words before he left his father"s house, in the hopes of obtaining a chance of pa.s.sing it to Judith, through Jamie, or by bribing a servant. This he now wrapped round a bit of stone and fastened it with a thread. Next moment the cas.e.m.e.nt was opened and the shadow reappeared.
"Back!" whispered Oliver, sufficiently loud to be heard, and he dexterously threw the stone and the letter through the open window.
Next moment the cas.e.m.e.nt was shut and the curtains were drawn.
He waited for full a quarter of an hour but no answer was returned.
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE SECOND TIME.
No sooner had Oliver thrown the stone with note tied round it into Judith"s room through the window, than he descended from a position which he esteemed too conspicuous should anyone happen to be about in the night near the house. He ensconced himself beneath the cow-shed wall in the shadow, where concealed, but was ready should the cas.e.m.e.nt open to step forth and show himself.
He had not been there many minutes before he heard steps and voices, one of which he immediately recognized as that of Cruel Coppinger.
Oliver had not been sufficiently long in the neighborhood to know the men in it by their voices, but looking round the corner of the wall he saw two figures against the horizon, one with hands in his pockets, and by the general slouch, he thought that he recognized the s.e.xton of S. Enodoc.
"The Black Prince will be in before long," said Coppinger. "I mean next week or fortnight, and I must have the goods sh.o.r.ed here, this time. She will stand off Porth-leze, and mind you get information conveyed to the captain of the coast-guard that she will run her cargo there. Remember that. We must have a clear coast here. The stores are empty and must be refilled."
"Yes, your honor."
"You have furnished him with the key to the signals?"
"Yes, Cap"n."
"And from Porth-leze there are to be signals to the Black Prince to come on here--but so that they may be read the other way--you understand?"
"Yes, Cap"n."
"And what do they give you every time you carry them a bit of information?"
"A shilling."
"A munificent government payment! and what did they give you for the false code of signals?"
"Half a crown."
"Then here is half a guinea--and a crown for every lie you impose on them."
Then Coppinger and the s.e.xton went further. As soon as Oliver thought he could escape un.o.bserved he withdrew and returned to Polzeath.
Next day he had a talk with his father.
"I have had opinions, in Bristol," said he, "relative to the position of Judith."
"From whom?"
"From lawyers."
"Well--and what did they say?"
"One said one thing and one another. I stated the case of her marriage, its incompletion, the unsigned register, and one opinion was that nevertheless she was Mrs. Coppinger. But another opinion was that, in consequence of the incompleteness of the marriage, it was none--she was Miss Trevisa. Father, before I went to the barristers and obtained their opinions, I was as wise as I am now, for I knew then, what I know now, that she is either Mrs. Coppinger, or else that she is Miss Trevisa."
"I could have told you as much."
"It seems to me--but I may be uncharitable," said Oliver, grimly, "that the opinion given was this way or that way according as I showed myself interested for the legality or against the legality of the marriage. Both of those to whom I applied regarded the case as interesting and deserving of being thrashed out in a court of law, and gave their opinions so as to induce me to embark in a suit. You understand what I mean, father? When I seemed urgent that the marriage should be p.r.o.nounced none at all, then the verdict of the consulting barrister was that it was no marriage at all, and very good reasons he was able to produce to show that. But when I let it be supposed that my object was to get this marriage established against certain parties keenly interested in disputing it, I got an opinion that it was a good and legal marriage, and very good reasons were produced to sustain this conclusion."
"I could have told you as much--and this has cost you money?"
"Yes--naturally."
"And left you without any satisfaction?"
"Yes."
"No satisfaction is to be got out of law--that is why I took to stuffing birds."
"What is that noise at the door?" asked Oliver.
"There is some one trying to come in, and fumbling at the hasp," said his father.