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Authors: Winston Graham

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BOOK: Jeremy Poldark
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"I am not many years older." He looked
at her with a quizzing interest. This was the fourth time they had met, and
there were few women he had so quickly come to friendly terms with "Marriage
has a maturing effect. He, chuckled. "Though, drat it, take the ring off
and you'd look little older."

Demelza met his gaze very frankly. `I don't want
to take it off, Sir John."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "No, no.
Naturally not. No one'd wish it. Naturally not. Have no fear, ma'am, your
husband'll get a fair trial. Perhaps more than fair. And Wentworth Lister's a
very able man. No prejudices. I can vouch for that."

Demelza glanced around. Well, she must plunge in
now.

"That," she said, " was what I
wanted-to see you about.”

 

On the balcony the candidates had been greeted
with an immense roar, as if a lion had opened its mouth.

When she could make herself heard Caroline said
: " They look like a field of turnips - only not so neatly set. What a
rabble, dear Unwin. What is to be gained from pandering to them like
this?"

"A custom," said Unwin, bowing his
fine head towards the mob. "It's only for five or six days, and then they
can be forgotten for as many years. I hope you're looking gracious, for it all
helps."

"Could I ever look anything, else? You
know, I should make you a very fine wife . . ." Unwin turned. . If I
decided to marry you. What could be more tactful than my behaviour tonight:
criticising Mrs. Daniell's house within Mrs. Daniell's hearing; mentioning the
Poldark case before Poldark's wife. What a triumph I’ll should be among your
parliamentary friends!

Unwin didn't reply, but bowed and waved to the
people below. Down the street towards the Queen's Head the maelstrom was
beginning to move.

Caroline pulled her beautiful embroidered shawl
about-her shoulders. "I hope Horace isn't biting the footman. His teeth
are sharp, and he has a knack for choosing the painful places. What; a pretty
woman that Mrs. Poldark is. It's her eyes and skin that make it all. Pity she
doesn't know how to dress."

" We can go in now," said Unwin, the
cleft deepening between his brows. "The novelty of seeing us is wearing
off and if we stay longer they'll start expecting something else.

" D'you know," said Caroline, " I
should like to go to the assize for a day. I've never seen the way it all
works, and I believe it would be very diverting."

They
turned to
go in.
" Diverting if you got fever"

Oh, then I should be in bed for a few days and
you should visit me. Does that appeal? Come, you promised me. What is the use
of having influence if you don't use it?"

In the lobby behind them Sir John pushed his wig
back to mop his-forehead.

My dear madam, I have no influence of that sort!
You don't know what you're asking! I tell you, it would prejudice your
husband's case, not help it!"

"Not if it was put in the right way,
surely."

"Yes, if it was put any way. His Majesty's
judges are not to be suborned by this sort of approach when a case is sub
judice"

Demelza felt her heart growing cold with
disappointment and despair. She allowed her eyes to travel interestedly over
Sir John's face. "It is only that if you was to tell him all the truth
about it before the case began he would know what to expect. What's amiss with
that? Isn't it the truth they want? Is it real justice they want to give - or
is it some other sort: law justice, made up on what lies the witnesses tell in
the box?"

Sir John gave her a look more of sorrow than of,
anger. It was rather plain where her friendship and charm had all this time
been leading:

"My dear ma'am, it's a little late to
explain, but I can only assure you I'm advising, you right. For one thing,
Wentworth Lister wouldn't listen to me. It would be more than my; friendship
was worth. Ecod, I should be out of favour with every legal man in the
country!"

Sir Hugh Bodrugan had seen her now. In a minute
he would be over.

She said: "It was not as if it was money
you was offering him - but only truth. Is that so much to be despised?"

"That may be how you look at it. But. how
would he know it was the truth?"

"Just now-when I was sitting here before
you came up - I heard a man say your brother had paid two, thousand pounds ;
for this seat in Parliament. Is that so, Sir John?"

"What's that to do with you?"

At his cold tone she gave in. "I'm sorry. I
meant no harm - no harm coming here tonight. I don't understand, that's all. I
don't see why it is right to pay electors for voting one way and so mortal hard
to ask a favour of a judge. Perhaps twould be better-if we did offer to, pay
him."

"Then you would be sent to gaol. No, ma'am;
be assured it's best to leave it all alone." At her change of tone his had
grown more sympathetic. "Don't think I do not sympathise I I hope and believe
Poldark will be a free man by, the end of the week. The surest way of attaining
the opposite-the opposite, ma'am would be to try to influence his lordship in
any way. It is one of the peculiarities of life in England. I cannot explain
why it should be so, but the law has always been above corruption. ..'

He was looking towards the door where Caroline
and Unwin and the Chenhalls were re-entering. So he did not catch the
expression that flickered in Demelza's eyes. It was only there for a second,
like a flag of defiance over a part-surrendered fort

Chapter Seven

On Sunday morning there was a procession to
church, headed by the legal fraternity in the town. It came down St. Nicholas
Street right past their inn, and Demelza and Verity knelt and watched it go.
Demelza's knees came over weak at the sight of the two judges in the full
regalia of their office - scarlet robes and heavy wigs: one of them tall and
raw-boned, the other of middle size and stout. She hoped that Wentworth
Lister, was the stout one. The enormity of her proposition to Sir John was
brought home to her at sight of the material he had to work on. In the
afternoon, rallying, she called at the hotel again and took tea with Sir Hugh
Bodrugan, as invited. It was a respectable genteel occasion, and for once, with
him, she was successful in keeping the conversation decent. But he wouldn't be
an easy man to hold at arm's length for long.

On Monday morning Mr. Jeffery Clymer had his
final interview with Ross. He read rapidly through the new notes Ross had made,
drawing his black eyebrows together until they were a continuous irregular
portico above his eyes, like the porticoes of Fore Street.

Then he said: "It won't do, Captain
Poldark. just won't do."

" What's wrong with it?"

" What I told you on Friday. Got to
realise, my dear man, criminal court is not a pitched battle, it's a field of
manoeuvre. You may speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth;
but it all depends how you speak it! Got to be tactful, persuasive, throw
yourself on the mercy and indulgence of the law. Be humble and innocent, not
stiff-backed and defiant. Say what you like after the verdict before that have
a care. Weigh every word. Look this is the sort of case you must put
forward."

Ross took the parchment from the plump hairy
hands of the barrister and tried to concentrate above the clatter of the cells.
After a minute or two he put it down.

" There are limits even if one's neck is at
stake."

Clymer looked his client over, summing him up
professionally, the long strong frame, the bony well-bred face, high-strung
under its reticence, the scar and the hair and the blue grey eyes. He
'shrugged. "If I could speak for you, that's what I'd say

"If you could speak for me, I might let you
say it"

Well, then, what's the difference? Of course,
it's your own life to do with as you please, your own freedom –if that's what
you call it. Got a wife? Got a family? Don't you think it's worth making this
concession for them? Mind, I make no promises with this line. But with yours
you would as well do without me and save your guineas."

In another cell some men were brawling, and at
the back of this one two thieves were dicing for a neckerchief another had left
behind. Got a wife? Got a family? Don't you think it's worth making
concessions? Would it really he for Demelza's sake or for his own? The thought
of captivity wash stifling to one of his restless nature.' In these few days he
had seen enough. Was he justified in changing his defence at, the last moment in
an, attempt to save his own skin?

He said shortly "Have you the list of
witnesses for the Crown?

Clymer handed him another sheet and wafted a
handkerchief before his nose while Ross read it.

Vigus, Clemmow, Anderson, Oliver, Fiddick "No
one can say the law has been slipshod in making up its case."

It never is, once it's got a case. Persevering -
that's what you'd call it. Where a couple of hundred people are involved in a
crime it usually fastens on one or two men - the most likely, perhaps the most
culpable, though not always - it fastens on one or two and tries to force the
others to turn King's evidence. Makes one or two the scapegoats, as it were.
You're the scapegoat, Captain. Unfortunate. These men your friends?"

Some of them."

"Doesn't follow, of course. Friend will
turn nastier than an enemy to save his own skin. Bad thing about human nature -
got a yellow streak. Came from Cain. Never know when it's going to show. We've
all got it somewhere and fear brings it out."

"I suppose," Ross said, hardly
listening, "these men have no choice but to appear if , the law subpoenas
them; Paynter I didn't expect him."

"Who's that? Something fresh?"

"A man who was my servant for years."

Oh yes. I woke him first and sent him to rouse
Sawle."

"Sawle a man?

"No, a village."

Mr. Clymer wafted vigorously. "Terrible
smell in here, terrible smell. Was this Paynter on the beach when the excise
men turned up?

On the beach but too drunk to know
anything."

"Trouble with some people-when they don't
remember, they invent. That's often the defence's opportunity. Sharpwitted
man?"

"I wouldn't say so."

Ah. No doubt you could shake him. Though some of
these dullards are wickedly obstinate in the box. Bullheaded, that's what you'd
call 'em."

Ross handed the list back. "Wednesday
morning, do you think?"

“Wednesday morning." Clymer stood up and
folded his gown about him. "Don't know ' why I'm troubling. If you want
to hang it's your own affair. The gaoler had come forward but he waved him
away. "Remember seeing a man strung up at Tyburn once. They cut him down
for dead but he grimaced and twitched for quite five minutes after."

I've seen that happen when a man's head was shot
off by a cannon ball," Ross said. "It's a still more peculiar sight when
the head and the body are some paces apart."

Clymer stared. "Yes? ..."

“Yes."

" Ha, well ... I’ll leave this draft
defence with you. Think it over. But don't regret you didn't use it after the
verdict. There's nothing to be done then. The prosecution will have plenty of
harsh things to say about you without your helping 'em in any way out of a
mistaken sense of pride. Pride's all right in its place. Got plenty myself.
Couldn't get along without it. But a court of law's not the place for a display
of it."

 

Dwight Enys put up at a little inn in Honey
Street. A sudden illness in Mellin Cottages had delayed him so that he did not
reach Bodmin until Monday afternoon. At the assize court he saw that Ross's
name was not on the list for Tuesday; then he called at the George and Crown,
but found only Verity there.

He left soon and dined quietly at the, inn.
Having hurried, he now found himself with one day to kill. In the morning he
thought he would visit the lazar house he had passed a mile or so out of the
town. He had never seen a leper and it might add to his knowledge to observe
them.

The tiny dining room of this inn was separated
from the tap room only by half-height swing doors, and as he was finishing the
cold pigeon pie there was some little commotion and he heard the word
"surgeon" mentioned. It was not, however, his business and he helped
himself to the apricot jellies and the cream. After a minute the owner, of the
inn pushed through the door and, seeing Dwight, came perspiring over to him.

" Begging your pardon, sur, but be you a
surgeon or an apothecary or some such like?"

I am

" Well, sur, a footman has this minute run
over from the Priory House. to say there's someone taken tedious sick, and was
there a physician to be had? Tis urgent, so I'm told. Twould be obliging to the
Daniells and a keenly act as you might say...

In the taproom was a liveried footman looking
breathless and a shade anxious. A Miss Penvenen was the lady who was took ill,
a Miss Caroline Penvenen; a guest staying in the house. No, he hadn't seen her
himself and didn't know what was amiss except that it was urgent and their own
apothecary lived at the far end, of the town.

"Very well. I'll be with you in a
minute." Dwight ran up the stairs and picked up the small bag of medicines
and surgical instruments he seldom travelled without.

It was a fine night and only a few yards to the
Church Square and up the hill at the other side. They turned in at a gate and
came to a big, square, gentleman's residence over looking a small park. Water
glimmered through the ornamental trees.

The footman led the way into a square hall lit
by massive candles which flickered and bobbed like servant girls as they went
by. Through a half-opened door Dwight saw a table set for supper, gleaming
knives, polished fruit, flowers. A man's voice talking in a measured even tone;
used to being listened to. Up the stairs. Good wrought-iron work and plenty of
white paint. Two Opies and a Zoffany.

Along a red-carpeted passage and a turn. The
footman knocked at a door.

"Come in."

Dwight was ushered in and the footman withdrew.
Sitting on a low couch was a tall, slender, strikingly handsome girl in a
richly patterned dressing gown of white lawn.

Oh, are you an apothecary?" she demanded.

"A physician, ma'am. Can I be of help to
you?

"Yes. That's if you know the use of drugs
the way an apothecary does."'

Of course. What is the matter?"

" You attend on the Daniells regular?"

No. I'm a stranger to the town. Your footman
came to the inn where I was staying and said you were urgently ill."

" Yes, I see. I only wanted to be
sure." She got up. "I, am not ill, though. It's my little dog,
Horace. Look. He has had two fits and now's half awake only, as if faint. I'm
greatly concerned about him. Will you attend to him at once, please."

Dwight saw that beside her on the sofa' was a
small black pug curled on a silk cushion. He looked at the pug and then he looked
at the girl.

"Your dog, ma'am?"

" Yes," she said impatiently. "I've
been worried out of my life for half an hour. He'll not drink and scarcely
knows' me. It's' all this commotion and excitement there's been, I'll swear. I
shouldn't have brought him; I have only myself to blame."

It was a beautiful room, decorated in scarlet
and gold.

Candles on the dressing table, reflected in
endless multiples through double mirrors. No doubt the chief guest room. A lady
of consequence. He said gently: " Your footman made a mistake. It would be
a farrier you really sent him for."

He caught the flicker in, her eyes before she
bent her head.

"It's not my custom' to employ a horse
doctor for Horace." " Oh, some of them are skilful enough."

That maybe. I don't choose to employ them."
He didn't move.

She said sharply: "I want the best advice.
I'll pay for it. I'll pay your ordinary fee. Come, what is it? You can have it
in advance."

That can wait until I have the honour of attending
you." Their glances clashed. Something in her attitude had irritated him
even more than the nature of the call.

"Well," 'she said, are you going to
treat the dog, or do you not know your trade well enough?? If you're a
beginner, perhaps you had better go and we'll call someone else." "It
was what I was about, to suggest," he said. As he reached the door she
said: " Wait."

He turned. He noticed that there were faint
freckles across the bridge of her nose. .

She said : "Have you never had a dog of your
own?" The tone of her voice was different. "... Yes, I had
once."

"Would you have let him die on a point of formality?"
“No ...”

"Then will you let mine?”

I imagine it's not as serious as that"
"I hope not myself."

There was a moment's hesitation. He came back
into the room. "How old is he?"

“Twelve months."

" Fits are not uncommon at that age. An
aunt of mine had a spaniel ..."

He bent to examine ' Horace. There didn't seem
much wrong with the animal except that its breathing was stertorous.

Pulse was fairly steady and there was no sign,
of fever. At the best of times, he thought, it would be a miserable little
beast. For one thing it was much too fat and pampered. Dwight was aware that
its graceful arrogant young mistress was closely watching him.

He looked up. "I see no cause for anxiety,
There's an excess of some of the vital humours, and I'd advise you to follow a
lowering system of treatment. Keep him very short of sweetmeats and pastries.
And let one off the servants give him regular exercise each day. Real exercise.
Running and jumping. He's got to get rid of the poisons causing these convulsions.
In the meantime I'll write you a prescription that you can get a druggist to
make up."

“Thank you."

He took out his notebook; she meekly fetched him
a pen and ink and he wrote out a prescription for a paregoric of black cherry
water and Theban opium.

" Thank you," she said, taking the
slip. "You were saying?"

"What?"

"About your aunt."

His mind had moved on beyond that. He suddenly
smiled, the last anger going. " Oh, my aunt had a spaniel, but that was
many years ago. He used to have fits when she played the spinet. One hesitates
to say whether he was musical or the opposite."

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