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Authors: Winston Graham

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sagas, #Romance, #General

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BOOK: Jeremy Poldark
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folly! You'd never get along the pavements.
You'd be in grave danger."

Demelza went across to the things she had
unpacked, considered them in the failing light. "I should keep to the
main streets."

"You don't realise what it is like in
Falmouth, even on a normal Saturday night, it's impossible to venture without
escort. Here, when there is free drinking, and the town's crowded with
sightseers . .

"I am no lent-lily to snap off at the first
touch."

"No, my dear, but it would be madness, I
assure you. You don't realise ..." Verity watched the other girl's face.
" If you're resolved, then I must come with you."

“That you cannot.. You've helped me so often,
Verity, but in this you cannot help me. It is--just something . between Ross
and me.. .”

" Between . . . Did Ross ask you to do
this?"

Demelza wrestled with her conscience.' She knew
the mischief which had come from her white lies before. But also the good!

"Yes," she said.

" In that case But are you sure he meant
you to go out alone? I can scarcely believe that he could ever have agreed to "

" I am a miner's daughter," Demelza
said. "I was not brought up gentle. Gentleness - is that the right word? -
came upon me when I was half grown. I have Ross to thank for that. And you.,
But it don't alter me underneath. I still have two marks on my back where
Father used the belt. There's naught a few drunks could do but what I couldn't
give them back. 'Tis all a matter of being in the mood."

Verity watched her cousin's face a minute
longer. There was a strength of line belying the soft feminine expression of
mouth and eye.

“Very well, my dear." Verity made a gesture
of resignation. "I am not happy about it, but you are your own mistress
now."

Chapter Six

There was no moon to light the town that night,
but every shop, tavern and house contributed its share to the yellow flicker of
the streets. In accordance with custom both parties in the election were
offering free drinks to their supporters, and there were already numbers of
people stumbling as they walked, or sitting in a lazy stupor in alcoves or
against a handy wall.

When Demelza came out she turned down the hill
and in a few minutes was in the main thoroughfare, which this afternoon she
had thought the narrowest and most crowded in the world. The shops and inns and
houses, tight squeezed, had along their frontages a succession of slated
porticoes reaching into the roadway on stone posts and forming an unbroken way
down both sides of the street. The space left for traffic was little more than
wide enough for one coach, and, since in the case of shops the porticoes were
often used for the display of goods, pedestrians found themselves out in the
road much of the time. Such an arrangement might have served for the normal life
of the town; it was inadequate now.

The street was crammed with people, milling
about, pushing up one side and down the other, rough but good-tempered so far:
A few yards from the Queen's Head she came to a stop, unable to go farther
because of the press. Something was going on at the hotel, but at first she
could only see the scarlet and orange banners which hung from the upper
windows. People were shouting, and laughing. Near the portico against which she
was standing a blindman was whining and trying to find his way through; a woman
quarrelled with a brass worker over the price of a bell; a man, half drunk, was
sitting on a stone step used for mounting horses, stroking the cheek of a
vacant-faced full-bosomed young country girl on the step below. Two ragged
urchins in cut-down coats came suddenly to blows and rolled over, scratching
and biting, in the dried mud. A half dozen people laughed and formed a ring, hiding
them from view.

There was a sudden shout and a rush towards the
Queen's Head, and the press here was eased. A window of the upper room of the
inn had been opened and people were cheering and shouting at the figures in the
window. Others were rolling and fighting, in the road just below. Another great
cheer and a rush. The people above were throwing things down, scattering them
in the road. An urchin came doubling and ducking through the crowd, holding his
hands under his armpits, his face contorted but triumphant. Three men were
fighting, and Demelza had to duck under the portico to avoid them. One crashed
into the stall of the brass worker, who came out with a flood of shouts and
curses to drive them off.

"What's to do?" Demelza asked him.
"What are they about?"

.The man eyed her, up and down.

"Scattering red-hot coins, they be From a
frying pan. Tis the custom."

"Red-hot coins?"

"'Tis the custom, I tell ee." He went
in.

She worked her way nearer and could see the cook
at the window in his tall hat, and two men with huge red and gold favours in
their buttonholes. There was a great scream and a rush as more money was flung
down. The human beings milling together in the flame and shadow had lost some;
part of their individuality and moved with a mass impulse not quite their own,
not quite the sum of all the separate souls. She felt if she was not careful
she might become a part of the mob in the yellow dark, be caught up in it, and
lose her individual purpose and volition, being sucked towards the window with
each wave that broke. She found herself beside the blind man.

"You'll not get through by yourself, old
man, she said. "Where do you want to go?

"Guildhall, Mrs.," he said, showing
broken teeth. "Tes up along, no more'n a short way."

Take; my arm. I'll help you." She waited
for the next rush, and then thrust her way forward, finding comfort in being
able to join with somebody, be of use to somebody, against the rest.

The blind man breathed gin over her. "Tes
rare an' kind of ee t'elp a poor old man. I'll do the same for ee one
day." He cackled as they got through the worst of the press. "Tis a
rare dring tonight, you; an' worse to follow,' I misdoubt."

Where is the Basset headquarters?" she asked,
peering up the street. "I thought this afternoon it was up here?"

The blind man squeezed her arm. Well, tes no
more'n a few paces now. But 'ow would it be if ye came along of me up Arnold's
Passage. I can give ee a nice little drop o' dripshan. Warm ee up,
twould."

She tried to get her arm free, but his fingers
were tight and playing a little tune on her arm.

"Leave me go," she said.

No offence, Mrs. 'No 'arm meant. I thought you
was a docy little maid. I can see naught, ye follow so tes all a question of
feel wi' me, and ye feel young and friendly. Young and friendly."

Two riders came down the street, picking a slow
way among the people, trying to quiet their horses, often unable to go forward
at all. She steered the blind man past them and then wrenched her arm free. He
tried to catch her fingers but failed, and she pushed her way ahead.

As she got opposite the Guildhall another great
press of people came down the street from the west, , shouting and singing and
carrying someone, precariously on a chair. She was, just able to slip into the
arched entrance of the Crown. They seemed about to go right past, but some
stopped, and a man stood on another's shoulders to try to reach the blue and
gold flag just above them. He had caught at a corner, when a dozen or more men
rushed past Demelza out of the hotel,sent the climber flying off the other
man's shoulders and in a minute a fight was in progress. Someone threw a brick,
and Demelza retreated farther into the yard and tried to tidy herself. Then she
went in.

How to dress for her purpose had been a
difficult decision and unsatisfying when made. She wanted to look her best, but
could not have faced the streets in evening things. So the result was a
compromise which sapped some of her dearly needed 'confidence.

" Yes'm?" An impudent page boy was
standing before her. She saw by his eyes that he had not quite placed her in
the social scale.

"Is Sir John Trevaunance staying
here?" " Not's I know, mum."

"I think he's here now. He told me he'd be
here this' evening.' A rash claim.

"I can't say, mum. They're dining. There's
guests." " Still dining?"

" Should be over soon'm. They started in at
five."

I'll wait," she said. "Do you leave me
know so soon as they're finished."

She sat down in the lobby of the hotel, trying
to appear unconcerned and at ease. Outside the noise was worse, and she
wondered how she would get back. She tried not to, be nervous. Waiters were
scurrying backwards and forwards from a room on her left. She did not want to
be found sitting here like a beggar waiting for alms. She beckoned one of the
waiters.

"- Is there a withdrawing room where I may
wait for Sir John Trevaunance in greater comfort than here?"

" Er yes, madam. Top o' the stairs. Can I
get you a refreshment while you wait?"

A brilliant idea. "Thank you," she
said. "Would you bring me some port."

 

This was not the election dinner, which would be
on Monday, but a preliminary gallop, as Sir Hugh Bodrugan called it. And, since
there were a few women present, the evening was on a discreeter level than
Monday's would be. A few of the weaker-brethren were tipsy; but most carried it
off in good style.

At the head of the table were Sir John
Trevaunance and his brother Unwin. Between them was Caroline Penvenen, and on
Sir John's left was Mrs. Gilbert Daniell, with whom the other three were
staying. Beyond her was Michael Chenhalls, the other candidate, and next came
Miss Ternary, the mayor - their mayor Humphrey Michell, and Sir Hugh Bodrugan.
Among the other guests were notables of the town and district, wool merchants
and civic, officials.

When the ladies left them the men sat over their
port for half, an hour before pulling in their sprawling legs and standing
about in yawning, chatting groups amid the debris of the meal. The noise at the
front of the hotel was not noticeable in the long dining room, but when they
got upstairs the shouts and the cheers and the scuffling and the laughter were
plain enough. As Unwin mounted the stairs beside his elder brother, 'Caroline
Penvenen came towards him carrying her tiny dog. Her face was a study in
charming petulance.

"Horace is upset by the noise, she said,
drawing her long fingers over the silky head and ears. "He is of a nervous
disposition and inclined to fret when frightened."

"Horace is a very lucky dog to have so much
affection centred on him," said Unwin.

I shouldn't have brought him, only felt he would
be lonely with old Mr. Daniell for company. I feel sure he would have found it
quite desolate to sit in that dismal drawing room all the evening, with a
draught whistling under the door and an old man snoring probably in the best
chair.

 

" I would point out, my dear, said Sir John
in a lowered voice, " that we are Mr. Daniell's guests and that Mrs.
Daniell is just behind you."

Caroline smiled brilliantly at the younger man.
Sir John does not approve of me, Unwin. Did you know that? Sir John is
convinced I shall disgrace him yet. Sir John thinks that woman's place is in
the home, and not being obtrusive and a responsibility at election times. Sir
John does not look with favour on any woman until she is at least thirty and
past mischief; and even then ..."

It was while the two men were politely trying to
convince her otherwise that Demelza came out of a side room and saw her quarry
close at hand. She came towards them with less hesitancy than she would have
done half an hour ago, wondering all the same who the tall striking girl was
with the red hair and the fiery grey-green eyes.

When Sir John saw her he looked surprised.

"Why, Mrs. Poldark; this is a pleasure. Are
you staying here?"

For the time, yes," said Demelza.
"There is a big,commotion outside. I wonder if it is to do with this
election?

Sir John laughed. "It's my belief so....
May I introduce ... I don't think you will have met Miss Caroline Penvenen
although she is a neighbour of yours for part of each year, at Killewarren.
Mrs. Demelza Poldark, from Nampara."

The ladies expressed themselves charmed at the
acquaintance, though Caroline was summing up Demelza's dress and Demelza knew
it. "I stay with my uncle," said Caroline, " Mr. Ray Penvenen,
whom you may know. I have no parents and he reluctantly takes the
responsibility of an orphan niece, as monks take a hair shirt. So at times I
remove the penance by removing myself; and others wear the shirt for him. I was
but then condoling with Sir John in the matter."

"Believe me," said Unwin, who did not
look very pleased at Demelza's arrival, "you do yourself less than
justice. If responsibility you are, which I doubt, there are many, who would
have it. You have but to say the word for half the men in the county to be at
your side. And if ---'

"Men?" said Caroline. "Must it
only be men? What's wrong with women? Don't you agree, Mrs. Poldark, that men
put a false estimate on their own importance?"

"I'm not sure as to that," said
Demelza. "For, you see, I'm married and am on the wrong side of the fence,
like."

" And is your husband all that important? I
shouldn't admit it if it were the truth, But,, Unwin, were you not telling me
there was a Poldark to be tried at the assizes this year? Is it any relation to
this lady?"

"That's my husband, ma'am," said
Demelza, " so perhaps twill be, understood why I hold him in some extra
worth just now.

For a second or two Caroline looked confused.
She patted her dog's snub nose. "And did he do wrong? What is he charged
with?"

Gruffly Sir John told her, and she said: "Oh,
la, if I were the judge, then I'd sentence him forthwith to be returned to his
wife. I thought excise men were not classed as human beings these days."

"I wish you were judge, then; said Demelza.

"I'd like to be, ma'am, but since I'm not I
wish your husband well, and hope he'll come home again to domestic bliss."

The conversation was broken by Michael
Chenhalls, who said,

" They're shouting for us, Unwin. I suggest
we go out on the balcony before they try to break into the hotel.

"As you please."

" I'll come with you," said Caroline.
" I like to hear a mob when it is baying."

" Baying for me?" said Unwin. "
No ... just baying."

" You as well may get a brick thrown as a
bouquet." "That's as it should be. Spice in the pudding."

They moved off towards the room with the
balcony, and Demelza was alone with her
quarry. at
last. 'She
didn't think she would be left so for long.

"A taking' young lady, Sir John."

Sir John dryly agreed. " She's but
eighteen, you'll under stand, and a thought high-mettled. She'll settle
down."

BOOK: Jeremy Poldark
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