Three weeks later she married John Penaluna. They spent their honeymoon at home, as sober folks did in those days. John could spare no time for holiday-making. He had entered on his duties as master of Hall, and set with vigour about improving his inheritance. His first step was to clear the long cliff-garden, which had been allowed to drop out of cultivation from the day when he had cast down his mattock there and run away to sea. It was a mere wilderness now. But he fell to work like a navvy.
He fought it single-handed. He had no money hire extra labour, and apparently had lost his old belief in borrowed capital, or perhaps had grown timid with home-keeping. A single labourer--his father"s old hind--managed the cows and the small farmstead. Hester superintended the dairy and the housework, with one small servant-maid at her beck and call. And John tackled the gardens, hiring a boy or two in the fruit-picking season, or to carry water in times of drought. So they lived for two years tranquilly. As for happiness--well, happiness depends on what you expect. It was difficult to know how much John Penaluna (never a demonstrative man) had expected.
As far as folks could judge, John and Hester were happy enough. Day after day, from sunrise to sunset, he fought with Nature in his small wilderness, and slowly won--hewing, digging, terracing, cultivating, reclaiming plot after plot, and adding it to his conquests. The slope was sunny but waterless, and within a year Hester could see that his whole frame stooped with the constant rolling of barrels and carriage of buckets and waterpots up and down the weary incline. It seemed to her that the hill thirsted continually; that no sooner was its thirst slaked than the weeds and brambles took fresh strength and must be driven back with hook and hoe. A small wooden summer-house stood in the upper angle of the cliff-garden. John"s father had set it there twenty years before, and given it glazed windows; for it looked down towards the harbour"s mouth and the open sea beyond. Before his death the brambles grew close about it, and level with the roof, choking the path to it and the view from it. John had spent the best part of a fortnight in clearing the ground and opening up the view again. And here, on warm afternoons when her house work was over, Hester usually sat with her knitting. She could hear her husband at work on the terraces below; the sound of his pick and mattock mingled with the clank of windla.s.ses or the tick-tack of shipwrights" mallets, as she knitted and watched the smoke of the little town across the water, the knots of idlers on the quay, the children, like emmets, tumbling in and out of the Mayows" doorway, the ships pa.s.sing out to sea or entering the harbour and coming to their anchorage.
One afternoon in midsummer week John climbed to his wife"s summer-house with a big cabbage-leaf in his hand, and within the cabbage-leaf a dozen strawberries. (John"s strawberries were known by this time for the finest in the neighbourhood.) He held his offering in at the open window, and was saying he would step up to the house for a dish of cream; but stopped short.
"Hullo!" said he; for Hester was staring at him rigidly, as white as a ghost. "What"s wrong, my dear?" He glanced about him, but saw nothing to account for her pallor--only the scorched hillside, alive with the noise of gra.s.shoppers, the hot air quivering above the bramble-bushes, and beyond, a line of sunlight across the harbour"s mouth, and a schooner with slack canvas crawling to anchor on the flood-tide.
"You--you came upon me sudden," she explained.
"Stupid of me!" thought John; and going to the house, fetched not only a dish of cream but the tea-caddy and a kettle, which they put to boil outside the summer-house over a fire of dried brambles. The tea revived Hester and set her tongue going. ""Tis quite a picnic!" said John, and told himself privately that it was the happiest hour they had spent together for many a month.
Two evenings later, on his return from St. Austell market, he happened to let himself in by the door of the walled garden just beneath the house, and came on a tall young man talking there in the dusk with his wife.
"Why, "tis Zeke Penhaligon! How d"ee do, my lad? Now, "tis queer, but only five minutes a-gone I was talkin" about "ee with your skipper, Nummy Tangye, t"other side o" the ferry. He says you"m goin" up for your mate"s certificate, and ought to get it. Very well he spoke of "ee. Why don"t Hester invite you inside? Come"st "long in to supper, my son."
Zeke followed them in, and this was the first of many visits. John was one of those naturally friendly souls (there are many in the world) who never go forth to seek friends, and to whom few friends ever come, and these by accident. Zeke"s talk set his tongue running on his own brief _Wanderjahre_. And Hester would sit and listen to the pair with heightened colour, which made John wonder why, as a rule, she shunned company--it did her so much good. So it grew to be a settled thing that whenever the _Touch-me-not_ entered port a knife and fork awaited Zeke up at Hall, and the oftener he came the pleasanter was John"s face.
V
Three years pa.s.sed, and in the summer of the third year Captain Nummy Tangye, of the _Touch-me-not_, relinquished his command. Captain Tangye"s baptismal name was Matthias, and Bideford, in Devon, his native town. But the _Touch-me-not_, which he had commanded for thirty-five years, happened to carry for figurehead a wooden Highlander holding a thistle close to his chest, and against his thigh a scroll with the motto, _Noli Me Tangere_, and this being, in popular belief, an effigy of the captain taken in the prime of life, Mr.
Tangye cheerfully accepted the fiction with its implication of Scottish descent, and was known at home and in various out-of-the-way parts of the world as Nolim or Nummy. He even carried about a small volume of Burns in his pocket; not from any love of poetry, but to demonstrate, when required, that Scotsmen have their own notions of spelling.
Captain Tangye owned a preponderance of shares in the _Touch-me-not_, and had no difficulty in getting Zeke (who now held a master"s certificate) appointed to succeed him. The old man hauled ash.o.r.e to a cottage with a green door and a bra.s.s knocker and a garden high over the water-side. In this he spent the most of his time with a glittering bra.s.s telescope of uncommon length, and in the intervals of studying the weather and the shipping, watched John Penaluna at work across the harbour.
The _Touch-me-not_ made two successful voyages under Zeke"s command, and was home again and discharging beside the Town Quay, when, one summer"s day, as John Penaluna leaned on his pitchfork beside a heap of weeds arranged for burning he glanced up and saw Captain Tangye hobbling painfully towards him across the slope. The old man had on his best blue cut-away coat, and paused now and then to wipe his brow.
"I take this as very friendly," said John.
Captain Tangye grunted. "P"rhaps "tis, p"rhaps "tisn". Better wait a bit afore you say it."
"Stay and have a bit of dinner with me and the missus."
"Dashed if I do! "Tis about her I came to tell "ee."
"Yes?" John, being puzzled, smiled in a meaningless way.
"Zeke"s home agen."
"Yes; he was up here two evenin"s ago."
"He was here yesterday; he"ll be here again to-day. He comes here too often. I"ve got a telescope, John Penaluna, and I sees what"s goin"
on. What"s more, I guess what"ll come of it. So I warn "ee--as a friend, of course."
John stared down at the polished steel teeth of his pitchfork, glinting under the noonday sun.
"As a friend, of course," he echoed vaguely, still with the meaningless smile on his face.
"I b"lieve she means to be a good "ooman; but she"s listenin" to "en. Now, I"ve got "en a ship up to Runcorn. He shan"t sail the _Touch-me-not_ no more. "Tis a catch for "en--a nice barquentine, five hundred tons. If he decides to take the post (and I reckon he will) he starts to-morrow at latest. Between this an" then there"s danger, and "tis for you to settle how to act."
A long pause followed. The clock across the harbour struck noon, and this seemed to wake John Penaluna up. "Thank "ee," he said. "I think I"ll be going in to dinner. I"ll--I"ll consider of it. You"ve took me rather sudden."
"Well, so long! I mean it friendly, of course."
"Of course. Better take the lower path; "tis shorter, an" not so many stones in it."
John stared after him as he picked his way down the hill; then fell to rearranging his heaps of dried rubbish in an aimless manner. He had forgotten the dinner-hour. Something buzzed in his ears. There was no wind on the slope, no sound in the air. The shipwrights had ceased their hammering, and the harbour at his feet lay still as a lake. They were memories, perhaps, that buzzed so swiftly past his ears--trivial recollections by the hundred, all so little, and yet now immensely significant.
"John, John!"
It was Hester, standing at the top of the slope and calling him. He stuck his pitchfork in the ground, picked up his coat, and went slowly in to dinner.
Next day, by all usage, he should have travelled in to market: but he announced at breakfast that he was too busy, and would send Robert, the hind in his stead. He watched his wife"s face as he said it. She certainly changed colour, and yet she did not seem disappointed. The look that sprang into those grey eyes of her was more like one of relief, or, if not of relief, of a sudden hope suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed at; but this was absurd, of course. It would not fit in with the situation at all.
At dinner he said: "You"ll be up in the summer-house this afternoon? I shouldn"t wonder if Zeke comes to say good-bye. Tangye says he"ve got the offer of a new berth, up to Runcorn."
"Yes, I know."
If she wished, or struggled, to say more he did not seem to observe it, but rose from his chair, stooped and kissed her on the forehead, and resolutely marched out to his garden. He worked that afternoon in a small patch which commanded a view of the ferry and also of the road leading up to Hall: and at half-past three, or a few minutes later, dropped his spade and strolled down to the edge of his property, a low cliff overhanging the ferry-slip.
"Hullo, Zeke!"
Zeke, as he stepped out of the ferry-boat, looked with some confusion on his face. He wore his best suit, with a bunch of sweet-william in his b.u.t.ton-hole.
"Come to bid us good-bye, I s"pose? We"ve heard of your luck. Here, scramble up this way if you can manage, and shake hands on your fortune."
Zeke obeyed. The climb seemed to fl.u.s.ter him; but the afternoon was a hot one, in spite of a light westerly breeze. The two men moved side by side across the garden-slope, and as they did so John caught sight of a twinkle of sunshine on Captain Tangye"s bra.s.s telescope across the harbour.
They paused beside one of the heaps of rubbish. "This is a fine thing for you, Zeke."
"Ay, pretty fair."
"I s"pose we sha"n"t be seein" much of you now. "Tis like an end of old times. I reckoned we"d have a pipe together afore partin"." John pulled out a stumpy clay and filled it. "Got a match about you?"
Zeke pa.s.sed him one, and he struck it on his boot. "There, now," he went on, "I meant to set a light to these here heaps of rubbish this afternoon, and now I"ve come out without my matches." He waited for the sulphur to finish bubbling, and then began to puff.
Zeke handed him half-a-dozen matches.
"I dunno how many "twill take," said John. "S"pose we go round together and light up. "Twont" take us a quarter of an hour, an" we can talk by the way."
Ten minutes later, Captain Tangye, across the harbour, shut his telescope with an angry snap. The smoke of five-and-twenty bonfires crawled up the hillside and completely hid John Penaluna"s garden--hid the two figures standing there, hid the little summer-house at the top of the slope. It was enough to make a man swear, and Captain Tangye swore.
John Penaluna drew a long breath.
"Well, good-bye and bless "ee, Zeke. Hester"s up in the summer-house.
I won"t go up with "ee; my back"s too stiff. Go an" make your adoos to her; she"s cleverer than I be, and maybe will tell "ee what we"ve both got in our minds."