The Stranger From The Sea (36 page)

Stephen called at the house next day and he and Jeremy walked over to Wheal Leisure. The drizzle had gone again, and it was warm and sultry, with the sun falling in shafts through clouds as white and curly as a full-bottomed wig. The sea cracked and mumbled as they crossed the beach.

It was, Stephen said, his first ever time down a mine, and he had soon had enough.

'Christmas, I'd not be a miner, not for all the gold in the East Indiesl When you get down
‘
tis as if the rocks be pressing on ye from all sides. And ready to fall! That's what affrights me. It is as if the earth only has to breathe once too often and you're squeezed down for ever - under tons of dripping rock!'

'It's only what happens when you're dead,' said Jeremy, whose thoughts had temporarily strayed to a girl he had been kissing two nights ago in a churchyard.

'Well, not while I'm
alive,
thank you kindly. Give me the sea and the wind and the rain. I'd sooner face a full gale in a leaky schooner!'

'What happened to
Philippe'?
In the end.'

'I had to split the proc
eeds with the widow of Captain F
raser. She was an old bitch. Tried to bring proceedings against me for robbery. If she'd had the chance she'd have accused
me
of killi
ng the old man - not the French!
But in the end I did come away with a little store in me purse. I have hid it away temporary under the planchin in Will Nanfan's bedroom. Now I'm looking for some useful investment that'll double me capital.'

'And coming back here to look for it?' Jeremy asked.

Stephen laughed. 'Well, yes, maybe. Know you any such investment?'

'Not of this moment.'

'In truth, Jeremy, I came back here because I wanted to come back. It has a great attr
action. All you Cornish folk are
very kind and friendly. I've scarce known such friendliness ever before. Your own family in particular
...'

They sat on the edge of the cliffs, which were not high here. A path wound its way among the sand and the rock down to the beach. Although a still day, the sea was majestic, tumbling over itself in ever re-created mountains of white surf.

Stephen said: 'The open air's for me, no doubt about that. Look at that sea! Isn't it noble!... You know the sort of investment I want?'

'Another boat?'

'You've guessed. But not just a lugger like
Philippe.
Something the size of the schooner I was in when we ran foul of the French.'

'That'd cost a lot.'

'I know. Far more than I have up to now. But you're telling me about this mine, this Wheal Leisure we've been crawling through like blind moles. You all take shares. Your father, you, these Trenegloses - and others. What I'd like is to buy a ship that way. Shares. Me a quarter, you a quarter; Paul, if he has any money -'

'He hasn't. Neither have I!'

'Ah
...
pity. But you wouldn't object to some?'

'Assuredly not.'

'I tell you, Jeremy, that's the way many privateers

operate. Respectable merchants put up the money; hire a captain; he hires the crew. Off they go looking for adventure. Anything foreign's fair game. Then if you get a big prize the crew gets a share and the merchants pocket the rest. I knew a captain who in the end made enough to buy his investors out.' 'Privateering. Hmm.'

'All's fair in war. You know that. Anyway, it's what I'd like to do. Failing
that, maybe I'll become a miner!
'

Jeremy laughed. 'Seriously
...
If you're looking for investors, had you not a better cha
nce of finding them in Bristol?’

'I tried. But it was not to be. That bitch, Captain Fraser's widow
...
She'd poisoned folks' minds. Spreading stories. Lying rumours about me. Some folk believed her, thought I was not to be trusted. So I bethought meself of me Cornish friends and tried no more.'

'Falmouth would be your place in Cornwall, not here. Here there is nothing. We do not even have a harbour.'

Stephen said: 'There's real money to be made, Jeremy. Big money. Prize money. While the war's on. It won't last for ever.'

'I hope not.'

'I hope not too. But you have to admit it: war's a nasty thing but it is a time of opportunity - for men to climb, make money, make the
best
of themselves. Things you do in peacetime they'd hang you for. In wartime they call you a hero
...'

Jeremy did not reply, thinking of his own causes f
or bitter dissatisfaction. In th
e last few weeks he had dreamed of achieving some sudden distinction - raiding a fort in France, as his father had done - or joining the army and achieving rapid promotion; or becoming vastly rich through Wheal Leisure and able to buy himself a tide. Then he would call at Caerhays one day and ask to see Cuby
...

He said: 'Stephen.'

‘
Yes?'

'That day we were being chased by the gaugers. Did you go lame on purpose?'

Stephen hesitated, then grinned. 'In a sort of way, Jeremy. Though I did twist me ankle. I thought twas the only way of maybe saving the lugger.'

'Ah
...'

‘
I did come to look for you along the coast.'

'Yes, I know . . . Did you see anything of the third gauger when you doubled back — the one you knocked down?'

‘
Yes.' Stephen laughed. 'I knocked him down again - he was guarding the lugger.'

'Oh, you did
...'
Jeremy eyed his friend askance.

After a few moments Stephen said: 'There was no other way. He was there by the boat shed. He hadn't found his musket - you mind I threw it in the bushes - but he was standing there with his knife put looking after his mates. I saw him before he saw me and cam
e round the wrong way of t
he shed. He was out
- just stirring - when I left.’

'Ah,' said Jeremy again.

Stephen looked back at his friend. 'It was a gamble anyhow, wasn't it. Whether I could dodge 'em and get away. The others might have taken a fancy to follow me instead of you when I doubled back.'

Jeremy laughed. 'I suppose so.'

There was a further pause.

Stephen said: 'Well, I know what I fancy just at the moment: that's a swim.'

'I wouldn't quarrel with the idea. But you'd do well to keep inshore today. This
swell isn't to be trifled with.’

They clambered down the steep and slippery path, turned into the cave at the bottom and stripped off. Stephen was a little short in the leg for his height, but otherwise splendidly proportioned. Fine golden hair curled on his chest, diminishing to a narrow point at his navel. He had two wound marks, one on his right thigh, one on his ribs. The second looked recent.

"That the gauger?' Jeremy asked, pointing.

‘
What? Oh yes. He left his sting.'

They ran naked into the sea and were engulfed by it. Taking no notice of Jeremy's warning, Stephen dived into the first breaker and emerged beyond it. He swam to the second, was turned upside down and came to the surface laughing and spitting. Another wave engulfed him. After being knocked over once Jeremy swam easily after him, dodging the big waves, swimming across their crests or sliding into their bellies before they broke. He suddenly felt glad that Stephen was back. In spite of his strong sexual feelings for Daisy Kellow, nothing really had moved the black ache from his heart. Not work nor play nor food nor drink nor lust. Perhaps for a little while Stephen could cure it. His attitude to life, full of enterprise and empty of caution, was in itself a tonic. If you were in the company of a man who didn't care a curse for anything, it helped you to a similar view.

They were in the sea twenty minutes. The water was still cold for the time of year but its movement so boisterous that one came out glowing. And the sultry air dried them as they ran a mile up the beach and back. They collapsed at the entrance to their cave breathless and laughing, for they had just been able to avoid Beth and Mary Daniel coming along high-water mark picking over the flotsam of the tide. Both ladies would have been a thought indignant at the sight.

One of the sun's shafts pierced the cloud cover and fell on the two young men, and both dragged on their breeches and lay back in the sand enjoying the heat.

Stephen said: 'D'you know, this is the life, Jeremy. You're the most fortunate of human beings, aren't you.'

‘
Am I?'

'To be
born
here, beside this sea, and into a home where there's money enough. You're not rich but you want for naught. Think of waking up every morning since you were born and looking out on this sea, this sand, these cliffs. There's nothing dirty or ugly or underhand about them. All you get is
clean
things: sun and rain and wind and fresh clouds scudding over. If
1
had seventy years I'd want nothing better than to spend them all here!'

'After a few you might get tired of it and want to move. You've not got a placid nature, you know. You'd want to be out fighting the world.'

Stephen leaned back on his hands. 'Who knows? Maybe. But when I think of me own life
...
Oh, there are plenty worse; I worked on a farm, was learned to read and write. But don't you think your nature's formed by the way you live? Mine's been all fighting -
having
to fight to survive, sometimes having to cheat and lie. Who'd want to cheat and lie here?'

'There seems to be a modest degree of it in these parts just the same.'

'Perhaps it's not in human nature to be happy. Ecod, given an opportunity, I'd make a try here.'

Some small birds were twittering in the back of the cave.

Presently Stephen said: 'And how is Miss Clowance?'

'Well enough, I think.'

'Will she think the worse of me?'

'For what?’

'For what happened the night afore last.'

'No doubt you'll be able to judge at dinner.'

'Has she spoke much of me?

'From time to time.'

'I mean - since she knew I was back.'

Jeremy brushed some sand off his chest. 'Stephen, I do not know what affection you have for Clowance or she for you. I do not even know if it is the sort that would - would take amiss the sight of you in the company of Violet Kellow on the night of your return. If all that is a litde heavy sounding, I'm sorry. Why don't -'

'She saw me, then. Or did someone tell her?'

'She saw you. I saw you.'

Stephen sighed. 'Pit
y
...
You know me, Jeremy. I do things on impulse, like. Like going in that sea just now. I don't hum and har. Maybe I don't think enough. But that's how it is. Then I curse meself for an impulsive fool. D'you know it's God's truth that when I got to Grambler two nights ago me first thought was I must go see the Poldarks first thing. Who wouldn't? Isn't it natural? You were me true friends. But then I thought, what if I turn up on your doorstep, I thought, with nowhere to sleep?
‘Twill look as if I expect you
to put me up. So I went first to Nanfan's and learned there of the bonfire. Right, I say to meself, I'll call at Nampara and see if maybe Jeremy and Clowance are there and I can join them at the bonfire. So I walked up with the procession but cut away from it when I saw you
all
there. You were with Daisy Kellow and Miss Clowance was with that Ben Carter, and each one was paired off nicely, so I think to meself, no one will want
me
ramming me way in; and I see this tall man and someone says he's Captain Poldark and I think, well, there's better
ti
mes to turn up like a bad penny than at a Midsummer Eve bonfire when everyone's busy, and maybe, I think, I'll be better off waiting till the light of morning. So off I walk back to Nanfan's to get an early night.'

He paused. The two women were abreast of them on the beach and Jeremy waved. They waved back.

Stephen said: 'I've told you, I'm an impulse man. I have to pass the gates of Fernmore, and there was lights burning, so I go in, and Mr Kellow's away and Mrs Kellow and Miss Kellow have got their cloaks on and are arguing back and forth because Violet has said first she's not well enough to go to the bonfire and then changed her mind and says she is. So I say to Mrs Kellow, I say, Mrs Kellow, if you'll give me leave, I'll take Miss Violet to join her sister at the bonfire and there's no need for you to turn out at all. So after a bit of persuasion that's how it was.'

Jeremy reached for his jacket and took out his watch. 'But you didn't bring her to join her sister.'

'Well, I reckon you know the Miss Kellows better than me, Jeremy. Control them, can you, either one or the other of
'em? Like runaway horses. I say to Miss Violet when we get nigh the bonfire and she looks to be walking past it, I say to her, "Miss Violet, that path leads to the beach," and she says in that taunting high mettlesome way she has, "Shut your mouth, fellow, and follow me." '

Jeremy pulled on his shirt. 'It's almost time for dinner. You can come up to my room first and tidy up.'

'You know me,' said Stephen. 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, do I. Maybe I should, but it's not me nature. Violet's a pretty piece and out for a lark. You know what both those Kellow girls are.'

'Yes,' said Jeremy uncomfortably. 'I think we should go-'