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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15710.txt b/15710.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b6417c --- /dev/null +++ b/15710.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9286 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Nicky-Nan, Reservist, by Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Nicky-Nan, Reservist + +Author: Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q) + +Release Date: April 26, 2005 [EBook #15710] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST *** + + + + +Produced by Lionel Sear + + + + + + +NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST. + + +By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, ('Q') + + +Contents. + + +Chap. + +I. HOW THE CHILDREN PLAYED. + +II. CALL TO ARMS. + +III. HOW THE MEN WENT. + +IV. THE FIRST SERMON. + +V. THE ANONYMOUS LETTER. + +VI. TREASURE TROVE. + +VII. "QUID NON MORTALIA PECTORIA . . ." + +VIII. BUSINESS AS USUAL. + +IX. THE BROKEN PANE. + +X. THE VICAR'S MISGIVINGS. + +XI. THE THREE PILCHARDS. + +XII. FIRST ATTEMPT AT HIDING. + +XIII. FIRST AID. + +XIV. POLSUE _V_ PENHALIGON, NANJIVELL INTERVENING. + +XV. THE 'TATY PATCH. + +XVI. CORPORAL SANDERCOCK. + +XVII. THE SECOND SERMON. + +XVIII. FEATHERS. + +XIX. I-SPY-HI! + +XX. MISS OLIVER PROFFERS ASSISTANCE. + +XXI. FAIRY GOLD. + +XXII. SALVAGE. + +XXIII. ENLIGHTENMENT, AND RECRUITING. + +XXIV. THE FIRST THREE. + + + + + +NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +HOW THE CHILDREN PLAYED. + +When news of the War first came to Polpier, Nicholas Nanjivell +(commonly known as Nicky-Nan) paid small attention to it, being +preoccupied with his own affairs. + +Indeed, for some days the children knew more about it than he, being +tragically concerned in it--poor mites!--though they took it gaily +enough. For Polpier lives by the fishery, and of the fishermen a +large number--some scores--had passed through the Navy and now +belonged to the Reserve. These good fellows had the haziest notion +of what newspapers meant by the Balance of Power in Europe, nor +perhaps could any one of them have explained why, when Austria +declared war on Servia, Germany should be taking a hand. But they +had learnt enough on the lower deck to forebode that, when Germany +took a hand, the British Navy would pretty soon be clearing for +action. Consequently all through the last week of July, when the +word "Germany" began to be printed in large type in Press headlines, +the drifters putting out nightly on the watch for the pilchard +harvest carried each a copy of _The Western Morning News_ or _The +Western Daily Mercury_ to be read aloud, discussed, expounded under +the cuddy lamp in the long hours between shooting the nets and +hauling them. + + "When the corn is in the shock, + Then the fish is on the rock." + +A very little of the corn had been shocked as yet; but the fields, +right down to the cliffs' edge, stood ripe for abundant harvest. +I doubt, indeed, if in our time they have ever smiled a fairer +promise or reward for husbandry than during this last fortnight of +July 1914, when the crews, running back with the southerly breeze for +Polpier, would note how the crop stood yellower in to-day's than in +yesterday's sunrise, and speculate when Farmer Best or farmer Bate +meant to start reaping. As for the fish, the boats had made small +catches--dips among the straggling advance-guards of the great armies +of pilchards surely drawing in from the Atlantic. "'Tis early days +yet, hows'ever--time enough, my sons--plenty time!" promised Un' +Benny Rowett, patriarch of the fishing-fleet and local preacher on +Sundays. Some of the younger men grumbled that "there was no +tellin': the season had been tricky from the start." The +spider-crabs--that are the curse of inshore trammels--had +lingered for a good three weeks past the date when by all rights they +were due to sheer off. Then a host of spur-dogs had invaded the +whiting-grounds, preying so gluttonously on the hooked fish that, +haul in as you might, three times out of four the line brought up +nothing but a head--all the rest bitten off and swallowed. +"No salmon moving, over to Troy. The sean-boats there hadn't even +troubled to take out a licence." As for lobsters, "they were +becomin' a winter fish, somehow, and up the harbours you started +catchin' 'em at Christmas and lost 'em by Eastertide:" while the +ordinary crabbing-grounds appeared to be clean bewitched. + +One theorist loudly called for a massacre of sea-birds, especially +shags and gannets. Others (and these were the majority) demanded +protection from steam trawlers, whom they accused of scraping the +sea-bottom, to the wholesale sacrifice of immature fish--sole and +plaice, brill and turbot. + +"Now look 'ee here, my sons," said Un' Benny Rowett: "if I was you, +I'd cry to the Lord a little more an' to County Council a little +less. What's the full size ye reckon a school o' pilchards, now--one +o the big uns? Scores an' scores o' square miles, all movin' in a +mass, an' solid a'most as sardines in a tin; and, as I've heard th' +Old Doctor used to tell, every female capable o' spawnin' up to two +million. . . . No; your mind can't seize it. But ye might be fitted +to grasp that if th' Almighty hadn' ordained other fish an' birds as +well as us men to prey upon 'em, in five years' time no boat'd be +able to sail th' Atlantic; in ten years ye could walk over from +Polpier to Newfoundland stankin' 'pon rotten pilchards all the way. +Don't reckon yourselves wiser than Natur', my billies. . . . As for +steam trawlin', simmee, I han't heard so much open grievin' over it +since Government started loans for motors. Come to think--hey?-- +there ben't no such tearin' difference between motors an' steam--not +on principle. And as for reggilations, I've a doo respect for County +Council till it sets up to reggilate Providence, when I falls back on +th' Lord's text to Noey that, boy an' man, I've never known fail. +_While th' earth remaineth, seed-time and harvest shall not cease._ +And again," continued Un' Benny Rowett, "Behold, I say unto you, +_Lift up your eyes and look on the fields, for they are white already +to harvest_." + +If pressed in argument he would entrench himself behind the wonderful +plenty of john-doreys: "Which," he would say, "is the mysteriousest +fish in the sea and the holiest. Take a john-dorey or two, and the +pilchards be never far behind. 'Tis well beknown as the fish St +Peter took when Our Lord told 'en to cast a hook; an' be shot if he +didn' come to hook with a piece o' silver in his mouth! You can see +Peter's thumb-mark upon him to this day: and, if you ask _me_, he's +better eatin' than a sole, let alone you can carve en with a +spoon--though improved if stuffed, with a shreddin' o' mint. +Iss, baked o' course. . . . Afore August is out--mark my words--the +pilchards'll be here." + +"But shall _we_ be here to take 'em?" + +It was a dark, good-looking, serious youth who put the question: and +all the men at the end of the quay turned to stare at him. (For this +happened on the evening of Saturday, the 25th--St James's Day,--when +all the boats were laid up for the week-end.) + +The men turned to young Seth Minards because, as a rule, he had a +wonderful gift of silence. He was known to be something of a +scholar, and religious too: but his religion did Dot declare itself +outwardly, save perhaps in a constant gentleness of manner. +The essence of it lay in spiritual withdrawal; the man retiring into +his own heart, so to speak, and finding there a Friend with whom to +hold sweet and habitual counsel. By consequence, young Seth Minards +spoke rarely, but with more than a double weight. + +"What mean ye, my son?" demanded Un' Benny. "Tell us--you that don't +speak, as a rule, out of your turn." + +"I think," answered Seth Minards slowly, "there is going to be War +for certain--a great War--and in a few days." + + +Three days later the postmistress, Mrs Pengelly (who kept a general +shop), put out two newspaper placards which set all the children at +the Council Schools, up the valley, playing at a game they called +"English and Germans"--an adaptation of the old "Prisoners' Base." +No one wanted to be a German: but, seeing that you cannot well +conduct warfare without an enemy, the weaker boys represented the +Teutonic cause under conscription, and afterwards joined in the +cheers when it was vanquished. + +The Schools broke up on the last day of July; and the contest next +day became a naval one, among the row-boats lying inside the old +pier. This was ten times better fun; for a good half of the boys +meant to enter the Navy when they grew up. They knew what it meant, +too. The great battleships from Plymouth ran their speed-trials off +Polpier: the westward mile-mark stood on the Peak, right over the +little haven; and the smallest child has learnt to tell a Dreadnought +in the offing, or discern the difference between a first-class and a +second-class cruiser. The older boys knew most of the ships by name. + +Throughout Saturday the children were--as their mother agreed--"fair +out of hand." But this may have been because the mothers themselves +were gossiping whilst their men slumbered. All Polpier women--even +the laziest--knit while they talk: and from nine o'clock onwards the +alley-ways that pass for streets were filled with women knitting hard +and talking at the top of their voices. The men and the cats dozed. + +Down by the boats, up to noon the boys had things all their own way, +vying in feats of valour. But soon after the dinner-hour the girls +asserted themselves by starting an Ambulance Corps, and with details +so realistic that not a few of the male combatants hauled out of +battle on pretence of wounds and in search of better fun. + + +Nicholas Nanjivell, "mooning" by the bridge twelve paces from his +door, sharpening his jack-knife upon a soft parapet-stone that was +reported to bring cutlery to an incomparable edge and had paid for +its reputation, being half worn away--Nicholas Nanjivell, leaning his +weight on the parapet, to ease the pain in his leg--Nicholas +Nanjivell, gloomily contemplating his knife and wishing he could +plunge it into the heart of a man who stood behind a counter behind a +door which stood in view beyond the bridge-end--Nicholas Nanjivell, +nursing his own injury to the exclusion of any that might threaten +Europe--glanced up and beheld his neighbour Penhaligon's children, +Young 'Bert and 'Beida (Zobeida), approach by the street from the +Quay bearing between them a stretcher, composed of two broken paddles +and part of an old fishing-net, and on the stretcher, covered by a +tattered pilot-jack, a small form--their brother 'Biades +(Alcibiades), aged four. It gave him a scare. + +"Lor sake!" said he, hastily shutting and pocketing his knife. +"What you got there?" + +"'Biades," answered 'Beida, with a tragical face. + +"Han't I heard your mother warn 'ee a score o' times, against lettin' +that cheeld play loose on the Quay! . . . What's happened to 'en? +Broke his tender neck, I shouldn' wonder. . . . Here, let me have a +look--" + +"Broke his tender fiddle-stick!" 'Beida retorted. "He's bleedin' for +his country, is 'Biades, if you really want to know; and if you was +helpful you'd lend us that knife o' yours." + +"What for, missy?" + +"Why, to take off the injured limb. 'Bert's knife's no good since +the fore-part o' the week, when he broke the blade prizin' up limpets +an' never guessing how soon this War'd be upon us." + +"I did," maintained 'Bert. "I was gettin' in food supplies." + +"If I was you, my dears, I'd leave such unholy games alone," +Nicky-Nan advised them. "No, and I'll not lend 'ee my knife, +neither. You don't know what War is, children: an' please God you +never will. War's not declared yet--not by England, anyway. +Don't 'ee go to seek it out until it seeks _you_." + +"But 'tis comin'," 'Beida persisted. "Father was talkin' with Mother +last night--he didn' go out with the boats: and 'Bert and I both +heard him say--didn' we, 'Bert?--'twas safe as to-morrow's sun. +The way we heard was that Mother'd forgot to order us to bed; which +hasn't happened not since Coronation Night an' the bonfire. When she +came up to blow out the light she'd been cryin'. . . . That's because +Father'll have to fight, o' course." + +"I wish they'd put it off till I was a man," said 'Bert stoutly. + +At this point the wounded hero behaved as he always did on +discovering life duller than his hopes. He let out a piercing yell +and cried that he wanted his tea. 'Beida dropped her end of the +ambulance, seized him as he slid to the ground, shook him up, and +told him to behave. + +"You can't have your tea for another hour: and what's more, if you're +not careful there won't be no amputation till afterwards, when +Mother's not lookin' an' we can get a knife off the table. You bad +boy!" + +'Biades howled afresh. + +"If you don't stop it,"--'Bert took a hand in threatening,-- +"you won't get cut open till Monday; because 'tis Sunday to-morrow. +And by that time you'll be festerin', I shouldn't wonder." + +"--And mortification will have set in," promised his sister. +"When that happens, you may turn up your toes. An' 'tis only a +question between oak an' elum." + +'Biades ceased yelling as abruptly as he had started. "What's +'fester'?" he demanded. + +"You'll know fast enough, when you find yourself one solid scab," +began 'Bert. But Nicky-Nan interrupted. + +"There, there, children! Run along an' don't ee play at trouble. +There's misery enough, the Lord knows--" He broke off on a twinge of +pain, and stared down-stream at the congregated masts in the little +harbour. + +Polpier lies in a gorge so steep and deep that though it faces but a +little east of south, all its western flank lay already in deep +shadow. The sunlight slanting over the ridge touched the tops of the +masts, half a dozen of which had trucks with a bravery of gilt, while +a couple wore the additional glory of a vane. On these it flashed, +and passed on to bathe the line of cottages along the eastern shore, +with the coast-guard hut that stood separate beyond them on the round +of the cliff-track--all in one quiet golden glow. War? Who could +think of War? . . . Nicky-Nan at any rate let the thought of it slip +into the sea of his private trouble. It was as though he had hauled +up some other man's "sinker" and, discovering his mistake, let it +drop back plumb. + +While he stared, the children had stolen away. + +Yet he loitered there staring, in the hush of the warm afternoon, +lifting his eyes a little towards the familiar outline of the hills +that almost overlapped, closing out sight of the sea. A verse ran in +his head--"_I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence +cometh my help_. . . ." + +The slamming of a door at the street-corner beyond the bridge +recalled him to the world of action. + +On the doorstep of the local Bank--turning key in lock as he left the +premises--stood a man respectably dressed and large of build. It was +Mr Pamphlett, the Bank-Manager. Nicky-Nan thrust his hands in his +trouser-pockets and limped towards him. + +"If you please, sir--" + +Mr Pamphlett faced about, displaying a broad white waistcoat and a +ponderous gold watch-chain. + +"Ah! Nanjivell?" + +"If you please, sir--" Nicky-Nan, now balanced on his sound leg, +withdrew a hand from his pocket and touched his cap. "I've been +waitin' your convenience." + +"Busy times," said Mr Pamphlett. "This Moratorium, you know. The +War makes itself felt, even in this little place." + +If Nicky-Nan had known the meaning of the word Moratorium, it might +have given him an opening. But he did not, and so he stood dumb. +"You have come to say, I hope," hazarded Mr Pamphlett after a pause, +"that you don't intend to give me any more trouble? . . . You've +given me enough, you know. An Ejectment Order. . . . Still--if, at +the last, you've made up your mind to behave--" + +"There's no other house, sir. If there was, and you'd let it to +me--" + +"That's likely, hey? In the present scandalous laxity of the law +towards tenants, you've cost me a matter of pounds--not to mention +six months' delay, which means money lost--to eject you. You, that +owe me six pounds rent! It's likely I'd let you another house--even +if I had one!" + +"Even if you had the will, 'twouldn' be right. I understand that, +sir. Six young men, as I know, waitin' to marry and unable, because +the visitors snap up cottage after cottage for summer residences, +an'll pay you fancy prices; whereas you won't build for the likes o' +we." + +"Your six young men--if six there be--" said Mr Pamphlett, "will be +best employed for some time to come in fighting for their country. +It don't pay to build cottages, I tell you." + +Nicky-Nan's right hand gripped the knife in his pocket. But he +answered wearily-- + +"Well, anyways, sir, I don't ask to interfere with them: but only to +bide under my own shelter." + +"Owing me six pounds arrears, and piling up more? And after driving +me to legal proceedings! Look here, Nanjivell. You are fumbling +something in your pocket. Is it the six pounds you owe me?" + +"No, sir." + +"I thought not. And if it were, I should still demand the costs I've +been put to. If you bring me the total on Monday--But you know very +well you cannot." + +"No, sir." + +"Then," said Mr Pamphlett, "we waste time. I have been worried +enough, these last few days, with more serious business than yours. +In the times now upon us a many folk are bound to go to the wall; and +the improvident will go first, as is only right. Enough said, my +man!" + +Nicky-Nan fumbled with the knife in his pocket, but let Mr Pamphlett +pass. + +Then he limped back to the house that would be his until Monday, and +closed the door. Beyond the frail partition which boarded him off +from the Penhaligon family he could hear the children merry at tea. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +CALL TO ARMS. + + NESCIO QUA NATALE SOLUM DULCEDINE CUNCTOS + DUCIT ET IMMEMORES NON SINIT ESSE SUI. + +--The Old Doctor (to whom we have made allusion) had been moved to +write an account of his native place, and had contrived to get it +published by subscription in a thin octavo volume of 232 pages, +measuring nine by five and a half inches. Copies are rare, but may +yet be picked up on secondhand bookstalls for six or seven shillings. + +From this 'History of Polpier' I must quote--being unable to better +it--his description of the little town. (He ever insisted in calling +it a town, not a village, although it contained less than fourteen +hundred inhabitants.) + + "If the map of the coast of Cornwall be examined, on the + south-east, between the estuaries of the two rivers that divide + the Hundred of West from the Hundred of East and the Hundred of + Powder, will be noticed an indentation of the littoral line, in + which cleft lies the little town of Polpier. Tall hills, + abrupt and rugged, shut in a deep and tortuous valley, formed + by the meeting of smaller coombs; houses, which seem dropped + rather than built, crowd the valley and its rocky ledges; a + rapid rivulet dances in and out among the dwellings, till its + voice is lost in the waters of a tidal haven, thronged with + fishing boats and guarded by its Peak of serried rock." + +The Doctor after this first modest mention of "a rivulet" invariably +writes of it as "the River," and by no other name does Polpier speak +of it to this day. On the lower or seaward side of the bridge-end, +where the channel measures some three yards across, the flank of his +house leaned over the rushing water, to the sound of which he slept +at night. Across the stream the house of Mr Barrabell, clerk, leaned +forward at a more pronounced angle, so that the two neighbours, had +they been so minded, might have shaken hands between their bedroom +windows before retiring to rest. Tradition reports this Mr Barrabell +(though an accountant for most of the privateering companies in +Polpier) to have been a timorous man: and that once the Doctor, +returning home in the small hours from a midwifery case, found his +neighbour and his neighbour's wife hiding together under his +bed-clothes. Upon an alarm that Bonaparte was in the town, they had +bridged the stream with a ladder to the Doctor's open window and +clambered across in their night-clothes. It is reported also that, +on the transit, Mrs Barrabell was heard to say, "Go forward, +Theophilus! Th' Old Doctor knows all about _me_, if he don't about +you. You can trust en to the ends of the world." "That's right +enough, ma'am," said the Doctor in his great way; "but you appear to +have gone a bit further." A variant of the story has it that Mrs +Barrabell was found beneath the bed, and her spouse alone between the +bed-clothes, into which he had plunged with an exhortation, "Look +after yourself, darling!" "And what do you think Theophilus found +under that magnificent man's bed?" she asked her neighbours next day. +"Why, naught but a plumed hat in a japanned case; no trace of alarm, +and yet ready there against any emergency." + +The Doctor (I should say) had held a commission--worn a Major's +uniform--in the local Artillery Volunteers during those days of the +Napoleonic peril. They passed, and he survived to die in times of +peace, leaving (as has been told) a local history for his memorial. +A tablet to his memory records that "_In all his life he never had a +lawsuit. Reader, take example and strive to be so good a man_." + + +In his childhood Nicky-Nan had listened to many a legend of the Old +Doctor, whose memory haunted every street and by-lane and even +attained to something like apotheosis in the talk of the older +inhabitants. They told what an eye he had, as a naturalist, for +anything uncommon in the maunds; how he taught them to be observant, +alert for any strange fish, and to bring it home alive, if possible; +and how he was never so happy as when seated on a bollard near the +Quay-head with a drawing-board on his knee, busy--for he was a wonder +with pencil and brush--transferring to paper the outline and markings +of a specimen and its perishable exquisite colours; working rapidly +while he listened to the account of its capture, and maybe pausing +now and again to pencil a note on the margin of the portrait. +They told, too, of his ways--how for a whole month he came forth from +his front door in a crouching posture, almost on all fours, so as not +to disturb the work of a diadem spider that had chosen to build its +web across the porch; of his professional skill, that "trust yourself +to th' Old Doctor, and he'd see you came to a natral end of some +sort, and in no haste, neither;" of his habit of dress, that (when +not in martial uniform) he wore a black suit with knee-breeches, silk +stockings, and silver shoe-buckles; of his kindness of heart, that in +the _Notes of Periodic Phenomena_, which he regularly kept, he always +recorded a midnight gale towards the close of August, to account for +the mysterious depletion of his apple-crop. + + +But the Old Doctor had gone to his fathers long ago, and the old +house, divided into two tenements--with access by one porch and front +passage--had been occupied for twenty years past by Nicky-Nan and +(for eight or nine) by the Penhaligon family. Nicky-Nan's cantle +overhung the river, and comprised a kitchen and scullery on the +ground-floor, with a fairly large bedroom above it. The old Doctor's +own bedroom it had been, and was remarkable for an open fireplace +with two large recessed cupboards let into a wall, which measured a +good four feet in depth beyond the chimney-breast. Once, in cleaning +out the cupboards, Nicky-Nan had discovered in the right-hand one +that one or two boards of the flooring were loose. Lifting them +cautiously he had peered into a sort of lazarette deep down in the +wall, and had lowered a candle, the flame of which, catching hold of +a mass of dried cobweb, had shot up and singed his eyebrows, for a +moment threatening to set the house on fire. It had given him a +scare, and he never ventured to carry his exploration further. + +His curiosity was the less provoked because at least a score of the +old houses in Polpier have similar recesses, constructed (it is said) +as hiding-places from the press-gang or for smugglers hotly pursued +by the dragoons. + +The Penhaligon family inhabited the side of the house that faced the +street, and their large living-room was chiefly remarkable for the +beams supporting the floor above it. They had all been sawn +lengthwise out of a single oak-tree, and the outer edges of some had +been left untrimmed. From a nail in the midmost beam hung a small +rusty key, around which the spiders wove webs and the children many +speculations: for the story went that a brother of the old Doctor's-- +the scapegrace of the family--had hung it (the key of his quadrant) +there, with strong injunctions that no one should take it down until +he returned--which he never did. So Mrs Penhaligon's feather-brush +always spared this one spot in the room, every other inch of which +she kept scrupulously dusted. She would not for worlds have +exchanged lodgings with Nicky-Nan, though his was by far the best +bedroom (and far too good for a bachelor man); because from her +windows she could watch whatever crossed the bridge--folks going to +church, and funerals. But the children envied Nicky-Nan, because +from his bedroom window you could--when he was good-natured and +allowed you--drop a line into the brawling river. Of course there +were no real fish to be caught, but with a cunning cast and some luck +you might hook up a tin can or an old boot. + +Now Nicky-Nan was naturally fond of children, as by nature he had +been designed for a family man; and children gave him their +confidence without knowing why. But in his early manhood a girl had +jilted him, which turned him against women: later, in the Navy, the +death of a friend and messmate, to whom he had transferred all the +loyalty of his heart, set him questioning many things in a silent +way. He had never been able to dissipate affection or friendship: +and his feelings when hurt, being sensitive as the horns of a snail, +withdrew themselves as swiftly into a shell and hid there as +obstinately: by consequence of which he earned (without deserving) a +name not often entered upon the discharge-sheets of the Royal Navy. +But there it stood on his, in black upon white--"A capable seaman. +_Morose_." + +He had carried this character, with his discharge-sheet, back to +Polpier, where his old friends and neighbours--who had known him as a +brisk upstanding lad, sociable enough, though maybe a trifle shy-- +edged away from the taciturn man who returned to them. Nor did it +help his popularity that he attended neither Church nor Chapel: for +Polpier is a deeply religious place, in its fashion. + +Some of the women-folk--notably Mrs Polsue, the widow-woman, and Miss +Cherry (Charity) Oliver, a bitter spinster--spoke to the Wesleyan +Minister about this. + +The Minister listened to them politely. He was the gentlest of +little men and had a club-foot. Mrs Polsue and Miss Oliver +(who detested one another) agreed that it would be a day of grace +when his term among them expired and he was "planned" for some other +place where Christianity did not matter as it did in Polpier. +They gave various reasons for this: but their real reason (had they +lived in a Palace of Truth) was that the Rev. Mark Hambly never spoke +evil of any one, nor listened to gossip save with a loose attention. + +"The man has a wandering mind!" declared Miss Oliver. "It don't seem +able to fix itself. If you'll believe me, when I told him about +Bestwetherick's daughter and how she'd got herself into trouble at +last, all he could say was, 'Yes, yes, poor thing!'--and invite me to +kneel down an' pray she might come safely through it!" + +"You surely weren't so weak as to do it?" said Mrs Polsue, +scandalised. + +"Me?" exclaimed Cherry. "Pray for that baggage? To start with, I'd +be afeard the Lord'd visit it on me. . . . An' then it came out he'd +Known the whole affair for more than two months. The girl had been +to him." + +"And he never told? . . . I tell you what, Cherry Oliver! It's my +belief that man would set up a confessional, if he could." + +"Don't 'ee tell up such things, Mary-Martha Polsue, or I'll go an' +drown myself!" + +"And why not?--he bein' so thick with Parson Steele, that sticks up +'High Mass' 'pon his church door and is well known to be +hand-in-glove with the Pope. I tell you I saw the pair meet this +very Wednesday down by the bridge as I happened to be lookin' out +waitin' to scold the milk-boy: and they shook hands and stood for +up-three-minutes colloguin' together." + +When these two ladies joined forces to attack Mr Hambly on the +subject of Nicky-Nan's atheism, presumed upon his neglect to attend +public worship, the Minister's lack of interest became fairly +exasperating. He arose and opened the window. + +"Astonishing plague of house-flies we are suffering from this year," +he observed. "You have noticed it, doubtless? . .. Yes, yes--about +Nanjivell . . . it is so good of you to feel concerned. I will talk +it over with the Vicar." + +"God forbid!" Mrs Polsue ejaculated. + +"One uses up fly-papers almost faster than Mrs Pengelly can supply +them," continued the Minister. "And, moreover, she will sell me but +two or three at a time, alleging that she requires all her stock for +her own shop. I fell back last week upon treacle. Beer, in small +glass jars, is also recommended. I trust that if you ladies see me +issuing from the Three Pilchards to-morrow with a jug of beer, you +will make it your business to protect my character. The purchase +will not escape your knowledge, I feel sure. . . . But we were +talking of Nanjivell. I have some reason to believe that he is a +God-fearing man, though his religion does not take a--er-- +congregational turn. Moreover, he is a sick man." + +"H'mph!" Miss Oliver sniffed. + +"The amount of disease disseminated by house-flies is, I am told, +incalculable," pursued Mr Hambly. "Yes--as I was saying, or about to +say--it's a pity that, in a small town like Polpier, two ministers of +religion cannot between them keep a general shop to suit all tastes, +like Mrs Pengelly." Mr Hambly's voice dropped as he wound up. +"Ah, if--like Mrs Pengelly--we kept bull's-eyes for the children!" + +"And for another year we have to sit under a man like that!" said Mrs +Polsue to Miss Oliver on their way homeward. + + +Nicky-Nan had one thing in his favour. He came of an old Polpier +stock. It had decayed, to be sure, and woefully come down in the +world: but the town, though its tongue may wag, has ever a soft heart +towards its own. And the Nanjivells had been of good "haveage" +(lineage) in their time. They had counted in the family a real +Admiral, of whom Nicky-Nan had inherited a portrait in oil-colours. +It hung in the parlour-kitchen underneath his bedroom, between two +marine paintings of Vesuvius erupting by day and Vesuvius erupting by +night: and the Penhaligon children stood in terrible awe of it +because the eyes followed you all round the room, no matter what +corner you took. + +In neighbourliness, then, and for the sake of his haveage, +Nicky-Nan's first welcome home had been kindly enough. His savings +were few, but they bought him a small share in a fishing-boat, +besides enabling him to rent the tenement in the Doctor's House, and +to make it habitable with a few sticks of furniture. Also he rented +a potato-patch, beyond the coastguard's hut, around the eastward +cliff, and tilled it assiduously. Being a man who could do with a +very little sleep, he would often be found hard at work there by nine +in the morning, after a long night's fishing. + +Thus, though always on the edge of poverty, he had managed his +affairs--until four years ago, when the trouble began with his leg. + +At first he paid little heed to it, since it gave him no pain and +little more than a passing discomfort. It started, in fact, as a +small hard cyst low down at the back of the right thigh, incommoding +him when he bent his knee. He called it "a nut in the flesh," and +tried once or twice to get rid of it by squeezing it between fingers +and thumb. It did not yield to this treatment. + +He could not fix, within a month or so, the date when it began to +hurt him. But it had been hurting him, off and on, for some weeks, +when one night, tacking out towards the fishing-grounds against a +stiffish southerly breeze, as he ran forward to tend the fore-sheet +his leg gave way under him as if it had been stabbed, and he rolled +into the scuppers in intolerable anguish. For a week after this +Nicky-Nan nursed himself ashore, and it was given out that he had +twisted his knee-cap. He did not call in a doctor, although the +swelling took on a red and angry hue. As a fact, no medical man now +resided within three miles of Polpier. (When asked how they did +without one, the inhabitants answered gravely that during the summer +season, when the visitors were about, Dr Mant came over twice a-week +from St Martin's; in the winter they just died a natural death.) + +At any rate Nicky-Nan, because he was poor, would not call in a +doctor; and, because he was proud, would not own to anything worse +than a twisted knee, even when his neighbours on the Quay, putting +their heads together, had shaken them collectively and decided that +"the poor man must be suff'rin' from something chronic." + +Then followed a bitter time, as his savings dwindled. He made more +than a dozen brave attempts to resume his old occupation. But in the +smallest lop of a sea he was useless, so that it became dangerous to +take him. Month by month he fell further back in arrears of rent. + +And now the end seemed to have arrived with Mr Pamphlett's notice of +ejectment. Nicky-Nan, of course, held that Mr Pamphlett had a +personal grudge against him. Mr Pamphlett had nothing of the sort. +In ordinary circumstances, knowing Nicky-Nan to be an honest man, he +would have treated him easily. But he wanted to "develope" Polpier +to his own advantage: and his scheme of development centred on the +old house by the bridge. He desired to pull it down and transfer the +Bank to that eligible site. He had a plan of the proposed new +building, with a fine stucco frontage and edgings of terra-cotta. + +Mr Pamphlett saw his way to make this improvement, and was quite +resolute about it; and Nicky-Nan, by his earlier reception of notices +to quit, had not bettered any chance of resisting. Still--had +Nicky-Nan known it--Mr Pamphlett, like many another bank manager, had +been caught and thrown in a heap by the sudden swoop of War. +Over the telephone wires he had been in agitated converse all day +with his superiors, who had at length managed to explain to him the +working of the financial Moratorium. + +So Mr Pamphlett, knowing there must be War, had clean forgotten the +Ejectment Order, until Nicky-Nan inopportunely reminded him of it; +and in his forgetfulness, being testy with overwork, had threatened +execution on Monday--which would be the 3rd: August Bank Holiday, and +a _dies non_. + +Somehow Nicky-Nan had forgotten this too. It did not occur to him +until after he had supped on boiled potatoes with a touch of butter, +pepper and salt, washed down with water, a drink he abhorred. When +it occurred to him, he smote his thigh and was rewarded with a twinge +of pain. + +He had all Sunday and all Monday in which to lay his plans before the +final evacuation, if evacuation there must be. The enemy had +miscalculated. He figured it out two or three times over, made sure +he was right, and went to bed in his large gaunt bedroom with a sense +of triumph. + +Between now and Tuesday a great many things might happen. + +A great many things were, in fact, happening. Among them, Europe-- +wire answering wire--was engaged in declaring general War. + +Nicky-Nan, stretched in the four-post bed which had been the Old +Doctor's, recked nothing of this. But his leg gave him considerable +pain that night, He slept soon, but ill, and awoke before midnight to +the sound--as it seemed--of sobbing. Something was wrong with the +Penhaligon's children? Yet no . . . the sound seemed to come rather +from the chamber where Mr and Mrs Penhaligon slept. . . . It ceased, +and he dropped off to sleep again. + +Oddly enough he awoke--not having given it a thought before--with a +scare of War upon him. + +In his dream he had been retracing accurately and in detail a small +scene of the previous morning, at the moment quite without +significance for him. Limping back from his cliff-patch with a +basket of potatoes in one hand and with the other using the shaft of +his mattock (or "visgy" in Polpier language) for a walking-staff, as +he passed the watch-house he had been vaguely surprised to find +coastguardsman Varco on the look-out there with his glass, and +halted. + +"Hallo, Bill Varco! Wasn't it you here yesterday? Or has my memory +lost count 'pon the days o' the week?" + +"It's me, right enough," said Varco; "an' no one but Peter Hosken +left with me, to take turn an' turn about. They've called the others +up to Plymouth." + +"But why?" Nicky-Nan had asked: and the coastguardsman had responded: + +"You can put two an' two together, neighbour. Add 'em up as you +please." + +The scene and the words, repeated through his dream, came back now +very clearly to him. + +"But when a man's in pain and nervous," he told himself, "the least +little thing bulks big in his mind." War? They couldn't really mean +it. . . . That scare had come and had passed, almost a score of +times. . . . Well, suppose it was War? . . . that again might be the +saving of him. Folks mightn't be able to serve Ejectment Orders in +time of War. . . . Besides, now he came to think of it, back in the +week there had been some panic in the banks, and some talk of a law +having been passed by which debts couldn't be recovered in a hurry. +And, anyway, Mr Pamphlett had forgotten about Bank Holiday. +There was no hurry before Tuesday . . . + +Nicky-Nan dropped off again into a sleep punctuated by twinges of +pain. + +Towards dawn, as the pain eased, his slumber grew deeper and +undisturbed. He was awakened by--What? + +At first it seemed to be the same sound of sobbing to which he had +listened early in the night. Then, with a start, he knew it to be +something quite different--an impatient knocking at the foot of his +bed-chamber stairs. + +Nicky-Nan shuffled out of bed, opened his door, and peered down the +stairway. + +"Who's there?" he challenged. "And what's your business? Hullo!"-- +catching sight of Bill Varco, coastguardsman, on the flat below--"the +house afire? Or what brings you?" + +"The Reserves are called out," answered up Bill Varco. "You'll get +your paper later. But the Chief Officer's here from Troy with a +little fellow from the Customs there, and I be sent round with first +news. I've two dozen yet to warn . . . In the King's name! +An' there'll be a brake waiting by the bridge-end at ten-thirty. +If War isn't declared, it mighty soon will be. Take notice!" + +Bill Varco disappeared, sharp on the word. Nicky-Nan paused a +moment, hobbled back to bed and sat on the edge of it, steadying +himself, yet half-awake. + +"It's some trick of Pamphlett's to get me out," he decided, and went +downstairs cautiously. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +HOW THE MEN WENT. + + +In the passage he found Mrs Penhaligon standing, alone, rigid as a +statue. By her attitude she seemed to be listening. Yet she had +either missed to hear or, hearing, had missed to understand Varco's +call up the stairs. At Nicky-Nan's footstep she turned, with a face +white and set. + +"Sam's got to go," she said. Her lips twitched. + +"Nonsense, woman! Some person's playin' a trick 'pon the town." + +"They start from the bridge at ten-thirty. There's no trick about +it. Go an' see for yourself." She motioned with her hand. + +Nicky-Nan limped to the porch and peeked out (as they say at +Polpier). Up the street the women stood clacking the news just as +though it were a week-day and the boats had brought in a famous haul. +Feminine gossip in Polpier is not conducted in groups, as the men +conduct theirs on the Quay. By tradition each housewife takes post +on her own threshold-slate, and knits while she talks with her +neighbours to right and left and across the road; thus a bit of news, +with comment and embellishment zigzags from door to door through the +town like a postal delivery. To-day being Sunday, the women had no +knitting; but it was observable that while Mrs Trebilcock, two doors +away, led the chorus as usual, her hands moved as though plying +imaginary needles: and so did the hands of Sarah Jane Johns over the +way. + +Down by the bridge-end two men in uniform sat side by side on the low +parapet, sorting out a small pile of blue papers. They were Mr +Irons, the chief officer of Coastguard at Troy, and a young +custom-house officer--a stranger to Nicky-Nan. The morning sunlight +played on their brass buttons and cap-rims. + +Nicky-Nan withdrew his head hastily. + +"Where's Sam?" he asked. + +"Gone down to Billy Bosistow's to fetch his sea-boots." + +"I don't follow 'ee." Nicky-Nan rubbed his unshaven jaw with two +fingers. "Is the world come to its end, then, that Billy Bosistow +keeps open shop on a Sunday mornin'?" + +"'Tisn' like that at all. . . . You see, Sam's a far-seein' man, or +I've tried to make him so. I reckon there's no man in Polpier'll +turn out in a kit smellin' stronger of camphor, against the moth. +Twice this week I've had it out an' brushed it, fingerin' (God help +me) the clothes an' prayin' no shell to strike en, here or there. +. . . Well, an' last autumn, bein' up to Plymouth, he bought an extry +pair of sea-boots, Yarmouth-made, off some Stores on the Barbican, +an' handed 'em over to Billy to pickle in some sort o' grease that's +a secret of his own to make the leather supple an' keep it from +perishin'. He've gone down to fetch 'em; an' there's no +Sabbath-breakin' in a deed like that, when a man's country calls en." + +"'Tis terrible sudden, all this," said Nicky-Nan, ruminating. + +"'Tis worse than sudden. Here we be, with orders to clear out before +Michaelmas: and how be I to do that, with my man away? Think of all +the great lerrupin' furnicher to be shifted an' (what's harder) +stowed in a pokey little cottage that wasn' none too big for Aun' +Bunney when she lived. An' sixteen steps up to the door, with a turn +in 'em! Do 'ee mind what a Dover-to-pay there was gettin' out the +poor soul's coffin? An' then look at the size of my dresser. . . ." + +"I can't think why you turn out, for my part. Pamphlett's served me +with notice to quit by to-morra. You don't catch me, though." + +"Why, Mr Nanjivell, you won't set yourself up to fly in the teeth of +the law!" + +"Just you wait. . . . And Pamphlett doesn' know all the law that's in +the land, neither, if he reckons to turn me out 'pon a Bank Holiday." + +Mrs Penhaligon stared. "Well, I s'wow! Bank Holiday to-morra, and +I'd clean forgot it! . . . But, with the Lord's Sabbath standin' 'pon +its head, 'tis excusable. The children, now--out an' runnin' the +town in the Sunday clothes with never a thought o' breakfast; and how +I'm to get their boots an' faces clean in time for Chapel, let alone +washin'-up, I ask you!" + +"Well, I'll go upstairs an' get a shave," said Nicky-Nan. +"_That_'ll feel like Sunday anyhow." + +"Poor lonely creatur'!" thought Mrs Penhaligon, who always pitied +bachelors. On an impulse she said, "An' when you've done, Mr +Nanjivell, there'll be fried eggs an' bacon, if you're not above +acceptin' the compliment for once." + + +When Nicky-Nan came downstairs again, clean-shaven and wearing his +Sunday suit of threadbare sea-cloth, he found the Penhaligon children +seated at the board, already plying their spoons in bowls of +bread-and-milk. As a rule, like other healthy children, they ate +first and talked afterwards. But to-day, with War in the air, they +chattered, stirring the sop around and around. 'Beida's eyes were +bright and her cheeks flushed. + +"War's a funny thing," she mused. "Where do _you_ feel it, Mother?" + +"Don't clacky so much, that's a darlin', but go on with your +breakfast." But Mrs Penhaligon heaved a sigh that was answer enough. + +"Well, I wanted to know, because down by Quay-end I heard old Aun' +Rundle say it made her feel like the bottom of her stomach was +fallin' out. I suppose it takes people differ'nt as they get up in +years." + +"I know azackly where I feel it!" announced 'Biades. "It's _here_." +He set down his spoon and pointed a finger on the third button of his +small waistcoat. "An' it keeps workin' up an' down an' makin' noises +just like Billy Richard's key-bugle." + +"Then it's a mercy it ben't real," commented his brother. + +"'Biades is right, all the same." 'Beida regarded the child and +nodded slowly. "It do feel very much like when you hear a band +comin' up the street. It catches you--" She broke off and laid +her open palm on her chest a little below the collar. "An' then it's +creepin' up the back of your legs an' along your arms, an' up your +backbone, right into the roots o' your hair. But the funniest thing +of all is, the place looks so differ'nt--an' all the more because +there's so little happenin' differ'nt. . . . I can't tell just what I +mean," she owned candidly, turning to Nicky-Nan; "but it don't seem +we be _here_ somehow, nor the houses don't seem real, somehow. +'Tis as if your real inside was walkin' about somewhere else, +listenin' to the band." + +"Nonsense your tellin'," 'Bert interrupted. "Father's put on his +uniform. How can you make it that things ben't differ'nt, after +that?" + +"An' _he_'s here!" 'Biades nodded, over his half-lifted spoon, at +Nicky-Nan. + +"Oh!" said 'Bert, "that isn' because of the War. That's to say +Good-bye, because he's turnin' out this week." + +"For goodness, children, eat up your meal, an' stop talkin'!" +Mrs Penhaligon returned from the hearth to the table and set down a +dish of eggs and sizzling bacon. "Wherever you pick up such notions! +. . . You must excuse their manners, Mr Nanjivell." + +But Nicky-Nan was staring at young 'Bert from under fiercely bent +eyebrows. + +"Who told you that I was turnin' out this week?" he demanded. + +"I heard Mr Pamphlett say it, day before yesterday. He was round +with Squinny Gilbert--" + +"Fie now, your manners get worse and worse!" his mother reproved him. +"Who be you, to talk of the builder-man without callin' him +'Mister'?" + +"Well then, he was round with Mister Squinny Gilbert, lookin' over +the back o' the house. I heard him say as you was done for, and +would have to clear inside the next two or three days--" + +"He did--did he?" Nicky-Nan was arising in ungovernable rage; but +Mrs Penhaligon coaxed him to sit down. + +"There now!" she said soothingly. "Take un' eat, Mr Nanjivell! +The Good Lord bids us be like the lilies o' the field, and I can +vouch the eggs to be new-laid. Sufficient for the day. . . . +An' here 'tis the Sabbath, an' to-morrow Bank Holiday. Put the man +out o' your thoughts, an' leave the Lord to provide." + +"If I had that man here--" + +Nicky-Nan was sharp set; indeed he had been hungry, more or less, for +weeks. But now, with the eggs and bacon wooing his nostrils, his +choler arose and choked him. He stared around the cleanly kitchen. +"And on quarter-day, ma'am, 'twill be your turn. It beats me how you +can take it so quiet." + +"I reckon," said Mrs Penhaligon simply, looking down on the dish of +eggs (which maybe suggested the image to her)--"I reckon as the hen's +home is wherever she can gather the chickens under her wings. +Let's be thankful we're not like they poor folk abroad, to have our +homes overrun by this War." + +"'War'?" Nicky-Nan recollected himself with an effort. "Seemin' to +me you're all taken up with it. As though there weren't other things +in this world--" + +"If only the Almighty'll send my Sam home safe an' well!" + +But at this point Mr Penhaligon entered the kitchen, with the +sea-boots dangling from his hand. He wore his naval uniform--that of +an A.B.; blue jumper and trousers, white cinglet edged with blue +around his stout throat, loose black neck-cloth and lanyard white as +driven snow. His manner was cheerful--even ostentatiously cheerful: +but it was to be observed that his eyes avoided his wife's. + +"Hullo, naybour!" he shouted, perceiving Nicky-Nan. "Well, now, I +count this real friendly of ye, to come an' give me the send-off." +And indeed Nicky's presence seemed to be a sensible relief to him. +"Haven't ate all the eggs, I hope? For I be hungry as a hunter. + . . . Well, so it's War for sure, and a man must go off to do his +little bit; though how it happened--" In the act of helping +himself he glanced merrily around the table. "Eh, 'Beida, my li'l +gel, what be you starin' at so hard?" + +"Father looks fine, don't-a?" responded 'Beida, addressing the +company. + +"What I want to know," said 'Bert, "is why he couldn' have married +Mother years afore he did--an' then I'd have been a man an' able to +work a gun." + +"Ho!" Mr Penhaligon brought his fist down on the table with huge +enjoyment. "Hear that, my dear? Wants to know why we didn' marry +years afore we did?" He turned to his wife, appealing to her to +enjoy the joke, but hastily averted his eyes. "Well, now, I'll tell +ye, sonny--if it's strictly atween you an' me an' the bedpost. +I asked her half a dozen times: but she wouldn' have me. No: look at +me she wouldn' till I'd pined away in flesh for her, same as you see +me at present. . . . Eh, M'ria? What's your version?" + +Mrs Penhaligon burst into tears; and then, as her husband jumped up +to console her, started to scold the children furiously for dawdling +over breakfast, when goodness knew, with their clothes in such a +state, how long it would take to get them ready for Chapel. + +The children understood and gulped down the rest of their breakfast +hastily, while their mother turned to the fireplace and set the +saucepan hissing again. Having finished this second fry, she tipped +the cooked eggs on to the dish, and swept the youngsters off to be +tittivated. + +Nicky-Nan and his host ate in a constrained silence. Nicky, though +ravenous, behaved politely, and only accepted a fifth egg under +strong pressure. + +"Curious caper, this o' Germany's," said Mr Penhaligon, by way of +making conversation. "But our Navy's all right." + +"Sure," Nicky-Nan agreed. + +"I've been studyin' the papers, though--off an' on. The Kaiser's +been layin' up for this, these years past: and by my reck'nin' 'tis +goin' to be a long business. . . . I don't tell the Missus _that_, +you'll understand? But I'd take it friendly if you kept an eye on +'em, as a naybour. . . . O' course 'tis settled we must clear out +from here." + +"I don't see it," said Nicky-Nan, pursing his lips. + +"Pamphlett's a strong man. What he wants he thinks he's bound to +have--same as these Germans." + +"He won't, then: nor they neither." + +"Tis a pity about your leg, anyway," said Mr Penhaligon +sympathetically, and stared about the room. "Life's a queer +business," he went on after a pause, his eyes fixed on the old beam +whence the key depended. "To think that I be eatin' the last meal in +this old kitchen. An' yet so many have eaten meals here an' warmed +theirselves in their time. Yet all departed afore us! . . . +But anyway you'll be hereabouts: an' that'll be a cheerin' kind o' +thought, o' lonely nights--that you'll be hereabouts, with your eye +on 'em." + +He lit a pipe and, whilst puffing at it, pricked up his ears to the +sound of wheels down the street. The brakes were arriving at the +bridge-end. He suggested that--his own kit being ready--they should +stroll down together for a look. Nicky-Nan did not dare to refuse. + +The young Custom-house Officer, as he caught sight of Penhaligon +approaching in uniform, slipped down from the parapet of the bridge, +and sorted out his summons from the pile of blue papers in his hand. + +"That's all right, my billy," Penhaligon assured him. "Don't want no +summons, more'n word that His Majesty has a use for me." + +"Your allotment paper'll be made out when you get to St Martin's, or +else aboard ship." + +"Right. A man takes orders in these days." + +"But go back and fetch your kit," advised the Chief Officer of +Coastguard, who had strolled up. "The brake'll be arriving in ten +minutes." He paid Nicky-Nan the attention of a glance--no more. + +While Penhaligon was away, kissing his wife and family and bidding +them farewell (good man!) in tones unnaturally confident and +robustious, the last brake rattled up to the bridge-end with a +clatter. The whole town had assembled by this time, a group about +each cheerful hero. + +It was a scene that those who witnessed it remembered through many +trying days to come. They knew not at all why their country should +be at war. Over the harbour lay the usual Sabbath calm: high on the +edge of the uplands stood the outposts of the corn, yellowing to +harvest: over all the assured God of their fathers reigned in the +August heaven. Not a soul present had ever harboured one malevolent +thought against a single German. Yet the thing had happened: and +here, punctually summoned, the men were climbing on board the brakes, +laughing, rallying their friends left behind--all going to slay +Germans. + +The Custom-house Officer moved about from one brake to another, +calling out names and distributing blue papers. "Nicholas +Nanjivell!" + +There was a shout of laughter as Nicky-Nan put his best face upon it +and limped forward. "Why, the man's no use. Look at his leg!" +The young officer scanned Nicky, suspiciously at first. + +"Well, you'll have to take your paper anyway," said he--and Nicky +took it. "You'd best see the doctor and get a certificate." + +The two officers climbed in at the tail of the hindmost brake, and +the drivers waved their whips for a cheer, which was given. As the +procession started, all on board waved their caps and broke out +singing. They were Cornish-men and knew no music-hall songs--"It's a +long way to Tipperary" or anything of the sort. Led by a fugleman in +the first brake, they started--singing it in fine harmonies-- + + "He's the Lily--of the Valley, + O--my--soul!" + +So the first batch of men from Polpier were rattled through the +street and away up the hill. The crowd lingered awhile and +dispersed, gossiping, to Church or Chapel. + +Nicky-Nan, seated on the parapet of the bridge, unfolded the blue +paper which the young officer had thrust into his hand. He was alone +and could study it at leisure. + +It was headed by the Royal Arms, and it ran as follows:-- + + R.V. 53. + Actual Service Form. + +From To +The Registrar of Naval Reserve, Royal Navy Reserve Man, +Port of Troy. NICHOLAS NANJIVELL, + Polpier. + +NOTICE TO MEN OF ROYAL NAVAL RESERVE TO JOIN THE ROYAL NAVY. + +HIS MAJESTY THE KING having issued His Proclamation calling into +Active Service, under the Act 22 & 23 Vict. c. 40, the ROYAL NAVAL +RESERVE FORCE in which you are enrolled, you are required to report +yourself at once in uniform and with your Certificate R.V. 2 at +12 noon o'clock on August 2nd at the Custom House, St Martin's, +Cornwall. + +You will be forthwith despatched to the Naval Depot and should bring +with you any necessary articles. + +Should absence from home prevent your receiving this notice in time +to attend at once or at the hour specified, you should on its receipt +proceed forthwith to the Mercantile Marine Office named. + +Failure to report yourself without delay will render you liable to +arrest as a Deserter. + +Note.--Reasonable expenses incurred in travelling from your home will +be allowed. + + By command, + Joshua Johns, Registrar. + Dated this Second day of August 1914. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +THE FIRST SERMON. + + +Some ten minutes after the brakes had departed, Mrs Polsue and Miss +Oliver, bound for divine service, encountered at the corner where +Jolly Hill unites with Bridge Street, and continued their way +together up the Valley road. + +"Good-morning! This is terrible news," said Miss Oliver, panting a +little, for she had tripped down the hill in a great hurry. + +"I have been expecting it for a long while," responded Mrs Polsue +darkly. Like some other folks in this world, she produced much of +her total effect by suggesting that she had access to sources of +information sealed to the run of mankind. She ever managed to convey +the suggestion by phrases--and, still more cleverly, by silences-- +which left the evidence conveniently vague. To be sure, a +great-uncle of hers had commanded in his time a Post-Office Packet +plying between Falmouth and Surinam, and few secrets of the +Government had been withheld from him: but he was now, as Mrs Polsue +had to confess, "no more," and when you came to reflect on it (as you +sometimes did after taking leave of her), the sort of knowledge she +had been intimating could hardly have been telegraphed from another +and better world. She had also a cousin in London, "in a large way +of drapery business," who communicated to her--or was supposed to +communicate--"what was wearing": an advantage which she used, +however, less to refresh her own toilettes than to discourage her +neighbours'. Moreover, there was a brother-in-law somewhere "in the +Civil Service," to whom she made frequent allusion. But the +knowledge she derived from him concerning State secrets or high +politics could, at the best, but be far from recent, because as a +fact the pair had not been on terms of intercourse by speech or +letter since her husband's decease twelve years ago. (There had been +some unpleasantness over the Will.) + +"I have been expecting it for a long while," asseverated Mrs Polsue. +"Gracious! Why?" + +"You are panting. You are short of breath. You should be more +careful of yourself than to come hurrying down the hill at such a +rate, at your time of life," said Mrs Polsue. "It reddens the face, +too: which is a consideration if you insist on wearing that bit of +crimson in your hat. The two shades don't go together." + +"It is not crimson. It is cherry," said Miss Oliver. + +"Which, dear?" + +"The ribbon, Mary-Martha. You should wear glasses. . . . But I +started late," Miss Oliver confessed. "I didn't like to show myself +walking to Chapel, and so many of the men-folk passing in the +opposite direction. It seemed so _marked_." She might have +confessed further (but did not) that she had waited, peeping over her +blind, to see the brakes go by. "But _you_ were late too," she +added. + +"If you will use your reason, Cherry Oliver, it might tell you that I +couldn't get past the crowd on the bridge, and was _forced_ to wait." + +"Dear me, now! Was it so thick as all that? . . . You know, I can't +see the bridge from my back window--only a bit of the Old Doctor's +house past the corner of Climoe's: and I shan't see the bridge even +when the old house comes down. But I called in builder Gilbert last +Monday on pretence that the back launder wanted repairing; and when +he'd examined it and found it all right, I asked him how pulling down +that house would affect the view: and he said that in his opinion it +would open up a bit of the street just in front of the Bank, so that +I shall be able to see all the customers going in and out." + +This was news to Mrs Polsue, and it did not please her at all. +Her own bow-window enfiladed the Bank entrance (as well as that of +the Three Pilchards by the Quay-head), and so gave her a marked +advantage over her friend. To speak in military phrase, her +conjectures upon other folks' business were fed by a double line of +communication. + +"Well, my dear, you won't pry on _me_ going in and out there," she +answered tartly, with a sniff. "Whenever I wish to withdraw some of +my balance, to invest it, I send for Mr Pamphlett, and he calls on me +and advises--I am bound to say--always most politely." + +But here Miss Oliver put in her shot. (And Mrs Polsue indeed should +have been warier: for the pair were tried combatants. But a tendency +to lose her temper, and, losing it, to speak in haste, was ever her +fatal weakness.) + +"Why; of course, . . . and _that_ accounts for it," Miss Oliver +murmured. + + "Accounts for what?" + +"Oh, nothing. . . . There was a visitor here last summer--I forget +her name, but she used to go about making water-colours in a mushroom +hat you might have bought for sixpence--quite a simple good creature: +and one day, drinking tea at the Minister's, she raised quite a laugh +by being so much concerned over your health. She said she'd seen the +doctor calling at your house almost every day with a little black +bag, and made sure there must have been an operation. She mistook Mr +Pamphlett for the doctor, if you ever heard tell of such +simple-mindedness." + +"WHAT?" + +"And the awkward part of it was," Miss Oliver continued in a musing +voice, searching her memory--"the awkward part was, poor Mrs +Pamphlett's being present." + +"And you never told me, Cherry Oliver, until this moment!" exclaimed +the widow. + +"One doesn't go about repeating every little trifle. . . . And, for +that matter, Mrs Pamphlett was just as much amused as everybody else. +'Well, the bare idea!' she cried out. 'I must speak to Pamphlett +about this! And Mary-Martha Polsue, of all women!' These were her +very words. But of course one had to say _something_ to explain to +the other innocent woman and stop her running on. So I told who you +were; and that, as everybody knew, you were a well-to-do woman, and +no doubt would feel a desire to consult your banker oftener than the +most of us." + +"If you had money of your own, Cherry Oliver, you'd know how vulgar +it feels to have the thing paraded like that." + +"But I haven't," said Miss Oliver cheerfully. "And, anyway, you +weren't there, and I did my best for you. . . . Well, now, I'm glad +sure enough to know _from you_ that 'tis vulgar to make much of your +wealth, and I'll remember it against the time my ship comes home. + . . . Somebody did explain--now I come to think of it--that maybe +you'd be all the more dependent on Pamphlett's advice, seein' that +you hadn't been used to handle money before you were married, and it +all came from your husband." ("There! And I don't think she'll +mention my cherry ribbon again in a hurry," thought Miss Oliver.) + +After a moment's silence Mrs Polsue rallied. "I was saying that this +War didn't surprise me. The wonder to me is, the Almighty's wrath +hasn't descended on this nation long before. He must be more patient +than you or me, Charity Oliver; or else more blind, which isn't to be +supposed. Take Polpier, now. The tittle-tattle that goes about, as +you've just been admitting; and the drinking habits amongst the men-- +I saw Zeb Mennear come out his doorway, not fifteen minutes since, +wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve; and him just about to +board the brake and go off to be shot by the Germans!" + +"Maybe 'twas after kissin' his wife good-bye," Miss Oliver suggested. +"_I_ should!" + +"There's no accounting for tastes, as you say. . . . But I've had +good reason to know for some time that they order a supply into the +house and drink when nobody is looking. I've seen the boy from the +Pilchards deliver a bottle there almost every Saturday. . . . So, the +publics being closed this morning, he can't help himself but go off +with (I dare say) a noggin of Plymouth gin for a stiffener; and +might, for all we know, be called to the presence of his Maker with +it still inside him." + +"What hurries me," confessed Miss Oliver, "is the Government's being +so inconsistent. It closes the public-houses on a six-days' licence +and then goes and declares War on the very day the magistrates have +taken the trouble to hallow." She shook her head. "I may be +mistaken--Heaven send that I am!--but I can't see on any Christian +principles how a nation can look to prosper that declares war on a +Sabbath. If it's been coming this long while; as everybody seems to +say now; why couldn't we have waited until the clocks had finished +striking twelve to-night--or else done it yesterday, if there was all +that hurry?" + +"The Battle of Waterloo was fought on a Sunday," Mrs Polsue put in. +"I've often heard my great uncle Robert mention it as a remarkable +fact." + +"Then you may be sure the French began it, with their Continental +ideas of Sunday observance. I suppose we mustn't speak ill of the +French, now that we're allies with them. But I couldn't, when I +heard the news, help fearing that our King and his Cabinet had been +led away by them in this matter: and once you begin tampering with +the Lord's Day--" Miss Oliver shivered. "We shall have the shops +open next, I shouldn't wonder." + +"You are right about the Battle of Waterloo," said Mrs Polsue. +"My great-uncle Robert was always positive that the French began it. +He had that on the best authority. The Duke of Wellington, he said, +had no choice but to resist: and it must have gone all the more +against the grain because he was distantly connected with John +Wesley, only for some reason or another they spelt their names +differently. My great-uncle, in the room that he called his study, +had two engravings, one on each side of the chimney-piece. One was +John Wesley, when quite a child, being rescued from a burning house, +with his father right in the foreground giving thanks to God in the +old-fashioned knee-breeches that were then worn. The other +represented the Duke of Wellington in a similar frame on his famous +charger Copenhagen and in the act of saying in his racy way, +'Up, Guards, and at 'em!' My great-uncle would often point to these +two pictures and spell out the names for us as children, +'W-e-s-l-e-y' and 'W-e-l-l-e-s-l-e-y,' he would say. +'What different destinies the Almighty can spell into the same word +by sticking a few letters in the middle!'" + +"It's to be wished we had more men of that stamp in these days," +sighed Miss Oliver. "I should feel safer." + +"I hear Lord Kitchener well spoken of," said her friend guardedly. +"But I think we go too fast, my dear. It does not follow, because +the Reserves are called up, that War is actually declared. It is +sometimes done by way of precaution--though God forbid I should say a +word in defence of a Government which taxes us for being patriotic +enough to keep domestic servants. That doesn't, of course, apply to +_you_, my dear; still--" + +"It only makes matters worse," Miss Oliver declared hastily. +"If they haven't declared War yet, there's the less hurry to +gallivant these Reservists about in brakes when to-morrow's a Bank +Holiday. And, as for patriotism, if I choose to fall downstairs +taking up my own coals, surely I'm as patriotic as if I employed +another person to do it: though for some reason best known to itself +the Law doesn't compensate _me_." + +"There's something in what you say," agreed Mrs Polsue, a little +mollified, having caused her friend to rankle. "And the Law--or the +Government, or whatever you choose to call it--could afford the +money, too, if 'twould look sharper after compensating _itself_. + . . . A perfectly scandalous sight I witnessed just now, by the +bridge. There was that Nicholas Nanjivell called up to take his +marching-orders, and--well, you know how the man has been limping +these months past. The thing was so ridic'lous, the other men +shouted with laughter; and prettily annoyed the Customs Officer, for +he went the colour of a turkey-cock. ''Tis your own fault,' I had a +mind to tell him, 'for not having looked after your business.' +Pounds and pounds of public money that Nanjivell must have drawn +first and last for Reservist's pay, and nobody takin' the trouble to +report on him." + +"I suppose," said Miss Oliver, "the man really _is_ lame, and not +shamming?" + +"The Lord knows, my dear. 'Twas _somebody's_ business to have a look +at the man's leg, and not mine nor yours, I hope. . . . Put it now +that the case had been properly reported and a doctor sent to see the +man. If he's shamming--and unlikelier things have happened, now you +mention it--the doctor finds him out. If the man's sick, and 'tis +incurable, well, so much the worse for him: but anyway Government +stops paying for a fighting man that can't fight--for that is what it +amounts to." + +"You can't make it less," Miss Oliver agreed. "But doctors are +terribly skilful nowadays with the knife," went on Mrs Polsue. +"Very likely this growth, or whatever it is, might have been removed +months ago." + +"He ought to be made to undergo an operation." + +"And then, most like, he'd have gone off with the others to be fed at +the country's expense and no housekeeping to worry him, instead of +giving Mr Pamphlett trouble. For he has been giving Mr Pamphlett +trouble. Three times this past week I've seen him call at the Bank, +and if you tell me 'twas to put money on deposit--" + +"If builder Gilbert is right," put in Miss Oliver with a sigh of +envy, "I shall be able to see the Bank as well as you, when that +house comes down: and I shan't want to use spectacles neither." +She cut in with this stroke as the pair joined the small throng of +worshippers entering the Chapel porch. Also she took care to speak +the last seven words (as Queen Elizabeth danced) "high and +disposedly," giving her friend no time for a _riposte_. + + +The Minister, Mr Hambly, gave his congregation a very short service +that morning. He opened with three sentences from the Book of Common +Prayer: "Rend your heart, and not your garments. . . . Enter not into +judgement with thy servant, O Lord. . . . If we say that we have no +sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." + +Then, after a little pause, he gave out the hymn that begins "On +earth we now lament to see." . . . It had not been sung within those +walls in the oldest folks' remembrance--nay, since the Chapel had +been built; and many were surprised to find it in the book. But at +the second verse they picked up the tune and sang it with a will:-- + + "As 'listed on Abaddon's side, + They mangle their own flesh and slay, + Tophet is moved and opens wide + Its mouth for its enormous prey; + And myriads sink beneath the grave + And plunge into the flaming wave." + + "O might the universal Friend + This havoc of his creatures see!" . . . + +They sang it lustily to the end. With a gesture of the hand Mr +Hambly bade all to kneel, opened the Book of Common Prayer again, and +instead of "putting up" an _extempore_ prayer, recited that old one +prescribed for use "_In the Time of War and Tumults_":-- + + "O Almighty God, King of all kings, and Governour of all things, + whose power no creature is able to resist, . . . Save and + deliver us, we humbly beseech thee, from the hands of our + enemies; abate their pride, asswage their malice, and confound + their devices; that we, being armed with thy defence, may be + preserved evermore from all perils, to glorify thee, who art + the only giver of all victory;" . . . + +The voice, though creaking in tone and uttering borrowed words, +impressed many among its audience with its accent of personal +sincerity. Mrs Polsue knelt and listened with a gathering choler. +This Hambly had no unction. He could never improve an occasion: the +more opportunity it gave the more helplessly he fell back upon old +formulae composed by Anglicans long ago. She had often enough +resented the Minister's dependence on these out-of-date phrases, +written (as like as not) by men in secret sympathy with the Mass. + +Mr Hambly arose from his knees, opened the Book, and said: "The +portion of Scripture I have chosen for this morning is taken from +Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, vi. 10:--" + + 'My brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his + might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to + stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not + against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against + powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, + against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take + unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to + withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.' + +He paused here, and for a moment seemed about to continue his +reading; but, as if on a sudden compulsion, closed the book, and went +on: + +"My Brethren,--choose any of those words. They shall be my text; +they and those I read to you just now: 'If we say that we have no +sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.' + +"In entering upon this War we may easily tell ourselves that we have +no sin: for in fact not a man or a woman in this congregation--so far +as I know--harbours, or has harboured a single thought of evil +disposition against the people who, from to-morrow, are to be our +enemies, in whose distress we shall have to exult. In a few days +this will seem very strange to you; but it is a fact. + +"So it might plausibly be said that not we, but our Government, make +this war upon a people with whom you and I have no quarrel. + +"But that will not do; for in a nation ruled as ours is, no Ministry +can make war unless having the people behind it. That is certain. +The whole people--not only of Great Britain, but of Ireland too-- +seems to be silently aware that a War has been fastened upon it, not +to be shirked or avoided, and is arming; but still without hate. +So far as, in this little corner of the world, I can read your +hearts, they answer to my own in this--that they have harboured no +hate against Germany, and indeed, even now, can hardly teach +themselves to hate. + +"None the less, the German Emperor protests, calling on God for +witness, that the sword has been thrust into his hand: and, if he +honestly believes this, there must be some great confusion of mind in +this business. One party or the other must be walking under some +terrible hallucination. + +"The aged Austrian Emperor calls on _his_ God to justify him. +So does the German; while we in turn call on _our_ God to justify +_us_. + +"Now, there cannot be two Gods--two real Gods--president over the +actions of men. That were unthinkable. Of two claimants to that +sceptre, one must be a pretender, an Anti-Christ. + +"Therefore our first duty in this dreadful business is to clear our +minds, to make sure that ours is truly the right God. Let us not +trouble--for it is too late--about any German's mind. Our business +is to clear our own vision. + +"I confess to you that, however we clear it, I anticipate that what +we see in the end is likely to be damaging to what I will call +'official' Christianity. However you put it, the Churches of Europe +(established or free) have been allowing at least one _simulacrum_ of +Christ to walk the earth, claiming holiness while devising evil. +However you put it, the slaughter of man by man is horrible, and-- +more than that--our Churches exist to prevent it, by persuasion +teaching peace on earth, good-will towards men. + +"Disquieted, unable to sleep for this thought, I arose and dressed +early this morning, and sat for a while on the wall opposite, gazing +at this homely house of God across the roadway. It looked strange +and unreal to me, there in the dawn; and (for Heaven knows I can +never afford to slight the place it holds in my affection) I even +dared in my fondness to reckon it with great and famous temples such +as in our Westminster, in Paris, in Rheims--aye, and in Cologne--men +have reared to the glory of God. I asked myself if these, too, +looked impertinent as this day's sun took their towers, dawning so +eventfully over Europe; if these, too, suffered in men's minds such a +loss of significance by comparison with the eternal hills and the +river that rushed at my feet refreshing this valley as night-long, +day-long, it has run refreshing and sung unheeded for thousands upon +thousands of years. + +"Then it seemed to me, as the day cleared, that whatever of +impertinence showed in this building was due to _us_--and to me, more +than any--who in these few years past have believed ourselves to be +working for good, when all the while we have never cleared our vision +to see things in their right proportions. + +"We are probably willing to accept this curse of War as a visitation +on our sins. But for _what_ sins? O, beware of taking the +prohibitions of the Decalogue in a lump, its named sins as +_equivalent!_ In every one of you must live an inward witness that +these sins do not rank equally in God's eye; that to murder, for +instance, is wickeder than to misuse the Lord's name in a hasty oath; +that to bear false witness against a neighbour is tenfold worse than +to break the Sabbath. Yet we for ever in our Churches put these out +of their right order; count ourselves righteous if we slander our +neighbour, so it be on the way to worship; and in petty cruelties +practice the lust of murder, interrupting it to shudder at a profane +oath uttered by some good fellow outside in the street. To love God +and your neighbour, summed up, for Christ, all the Law and the +Prophets: and his love was for the harlot and the publican, as his +worst word always for the self-deceiver who thanked God that he was +not as other men. + +"I verily believe that in this struggle we war with principalities +and powers, with the rulers of darkness in this world, with spiritual +wickedness in high places. But make no mistake: the men who are +actually going out from England to brave the first brunt for us are +men whom _we_ have not taught to die like heroes, who have little +interest in Church or Chapel or their differences, who view sins in +an altogether different perspective from ours; whom we enlisted to do +this work because they were hungry and at the moment saw no better +job in prospect: whom we have taught to despise us while they protect +us. + +"The sins of our enemy are evident. But if _We_ say we have no sin, +we shall deceive ourselves and the truth will not be in us." + + +"Did you ever hear a feebler or a more idiotic sermon?" demanded Mrs +Polsue of Miss Oliver on their way home down the valley. + +"If ever a man had his chance to improve an occasion--" + +"Tut! I say nothing of his incapacity. There are some men that +can't rise even when 'tis a question of all Europe at war. But did +you hear the light he made, or tried to make, of Sabbath-breaking?" + +"I didn't hear all that," Miss Oliver confessed: "or not to notice. +It seemed so funny his getting up at that hour and dangling his legs +on a wall." + +"We will press to have a married man planned to us next time," said +Mrs Polsue. "A wife wouldn't allow it." + +"Do you suppose he _smoked?_" asked Miss Oliver. + +"I shouldn't wonder. . . . He certainly does it at home, for I took +the trouble to smell his window-curtains; and at an hour like that, +with nobody about--" + +"There's an All-seeing Eye, however early you choose to dangle your +legs," said Miss Oliver. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +THE ANONYMOUS LETTER. + + +Just about seven o'clock next morning Nicky-Nan, who had breakfasted +early and taken post early in the porchway to watch against any +possible _ruse_ of the foe--for, Bank Holiday or no Bank Holiday, he +was taking no risks--spied Lippity-Libby the postman coming over the +bridge towards him with his dot-and-go-one gait. + +Lippity-Libby, drawing near, held out a letter in his hand and +flourished it. + +"Now don't excite yourself," he warned Nicky-Nan. "When first I seed +your name 'pon the address I said to myself 'What a good job if that +poor fella's luck should be here at last, and this a fortun' arrived +from his rich relatives in Canada!' That's the very words I said to +myself." + +"As it happens, I han't got no rich relatives, neither here nor in +Canada," answered Nicky-Nan. "Is that letter for me? Or are you +playin' me some trick?" + +"A man of your descent," said Lippity-Libby, "can't help havin' +relatives in great quantities dispersed about the world. I've +figured it out, and the sum works like that old 'un we used to do on +our slates about a horse-shoe. Your great-grandfather married your +great-grandmother, and that set the ball rollin'--to go no farther +back than the head will carry. Six sons an' daughters they had, for +the sake of argyment, and each married and had six again. +Why, damme, by that time there's not a quarter in Europe where a rich +chap deceased mayn't be croppin' up and leavin' you his money, for no +better reason than that you're a Nanjivell. That always seemed to me +one of the advantages of good birth. For my part," the postman +continued, "my father and mother never spoke of such matters, though +she was a Collins and married in Lanteglos parish, where I daresay +the whole pedigary could be looked up, if one wasn't a postman and +could spare the time. But in the long evenings since my poor wife's +death I often find time to think of you, Mr Nanjivell; bein' both of +us lame of the right leg as it happens. Hows'ever 'tisn' no news o' +riches for 'ee to-day, sorry as I be to say it: for the postmark's +'Polpier.'" + +He tendered the letter. Nicky-Nan stretched out a hand, but drew it +back on a sudden suspicion. + +"No," he said. "You may take an' keep it. 'Tis a trick, I doubt." + +"You can't mean that, surely?" Lippity-Libby eyed the letter almost +greedily, holding it between finger and thumb. "Of course, if I +thought you meant it--I don't remember gettin' more 'n three letters +in all my life; that's if you don't count the trade they send me at +election times, tellin' me where to put my cross. Three letters all +told, and one o' they was after my poor Sarah died, threatenin' me +about the rates, that had slipped out o' my head, she bein' in the +habit of payin' them when alive. The amount o' fault she'd find in +'em, too, an' the pleasure she'd take in it, you'd never believe. +I've often thought how funny she must be feelin' it up there--the +good soul--with everything of the best in lighting an' water, an' no +rates at all--or that's how _I_ read the last chapter o' Revelations. +. . . Yes, only three letters of my own, that have handed so many to +other people, with births, marriages, an' deaths, shipwrecks an' +legacies an' lovin' letters from every port in the world. +Telegrams too--I'd dearly like to get a telegram of my own. . . . +But Government be a terrible stickler. You may call it red tape, if +you will: but if Mrs Pengelly caught me holdin' back any person's +letter, even though I knowed it held trouble for 'en, she'd be bound +to report me, poor soul, an' then like enough I'd lose place an' +livelihood. So I thank 'ee, naybour, for bein' so forward to give me +a bit o' pleasure; but 'twon't do--no, by the Powers Above it won't." +He shook his head sadly. Then of a sudden his eye brightened. +"I tell 'ee what, though. There's no rule of His Majesty's Service +why I shouldn' stand by while you reads it aloud." + +"No, no," said Nicky-Nan hastily. "Here, hold hard a moment--Is it +in Pamphlett's hand-writin' by any chance?" + +The question wounded Lippity-Libby's feelings, and he showed it. +"As if I shouldn' ha' told you!" he protested, gently reproachful. + +"Nor his clerk's?" + +"What, Hendy?--Hendy makes all his long letters straight up an' down, +while these be made with loops. The writin's sloped backwards too, +with a rake on it, same as was fash'nable on some o' the tea-clippers +in my young days, but now 'tis seldom carried 'nless by a few +steam-yachts." + +"Well, hand me over the thing--I'll risk it," said Nicky-Nan. + +He took the missive and glanced at the address--"Mr N. Nanjivell, +_Naval Reservist_, Polpier R.S.O., Cornwall." The words "_Naval +Reservist_" underlined gave him a tremor. But it was too late to +draw back. He broke open the envelope, drew forth the letter, +unfolded it, and ran his eye hurriedly overleaf, seeking the +signature. + +"Why, 'tisn' signed!" + +"Not signed?" echoed Lippity-Libby. "That's as much as to say +'nonymous." Suddenly he slapped his thigh. "There now! O' course-- +why, what a forgetful head is mine! And simme I knew that hand, too, +all the while." + +"Eh?" + +"Yes, to be sure--'tis the same that, up to two years ago, used to +write an' send all the 'nonymous letters in Polpier. The old woman +an' I, we tracked it down to one of two, an' both females. It lay +between 'em, and I was for old Ann' Bunney--she bein' well known for +a witch. But now that can't be, for the woman's gone to Satan these +three months. . . . An' my missus gone too--poor tender heart--an' +lookin' down on me, that was rash enough to bet her sixpence on it, +an' now no means to pay up." + +"Who was the other?" demanded Nicky-Nan, frowning over the letter, +his face flushing as he frowned. + +"You're goin' to read it to me, ben't you?" + +"Damned if I do," answered Nicky-Nan curtly. "But I'd like to know +who wrote it." + +"It don't stand with Government reggilations, as _I_ read 'em," said +Lippity-Libby, "for a postman to be tellin' who wrote every 'nonymous +letter he carries. . . . Well, I be wastin' time; but if you'll take +my advice, Mr Nanjivell, and it isn' too late, you'll marry a woman. +She'll probably increase your comfort, and--I don't care who she is-- +she'll work out another woman that writes 'nonymous. Like a stoat in +a burrow she will, specially if she happens to take in washin' same +as my lost Sarah did. She was shown a 'nonymous letter with 'Only +charitable to warn' in it. Dang me, if she didn' go straight an' +turn up a complaint about 'One chemise torn in wash,' an' showed me +how, though sloped different ways, the letters were alike, twiddles +an' all, to the very daps. I wouldn' believe it at the time, the +party bein' a female in good position. But my wife was certain of +it, an' all the more because she never allowed to her last breath +that the woman's shimmy had been torn at all. Well, so long!" + + +Nicky-Nan carried the letter indoors to his small, dark sitting-room, +and there spelled it through painfully, holding the paper close up to +the window-pane. It ran:-- + + Sunday, 2/8/14. + Mr N. Nanjivell. + + Sir,--As an inhabitant of Polpier, born in the town and anxious + for its good name, besides being a ratepayer and one that pays + taxes to His Majesty, I was naterally concerned to-day at your + not taking your place along with the other men that went off to + fight for their country. I am given to understand that you were + served with a paper, same as the rest, and the Customs Officer + was put out by your not going. I don't wonder at it. Such want + of pluck. + + Its no good your saying you are not Abel. If you are Abel to be + a Reservist and _draw pay_, you are Abel to Fight thats how I + look at it. I would let you to know the Public doesnt pay money + for gamey legs that go about taking all they can get until the + Pinch comes. + + Theres a good many things want looking into in Polpier, It has + reached me that until the present sistem came in and put a stop + to it you drew pay for years for drills that you never atended. + + This is a time when as Lord Nelson said England expects every + Man to Do his Duty. I think so bad of your case that I am + writing by same post to the Custom House at Troy about it. + So I warn you as + A Well-Wisher. + + +Nicky-Nan read this amiable missive through, and re-read it almost to +the end before realising the menace of it. At the first perusal his +mind was engaged with the mechanical task of deciphering the script +and with speculating on its authorship. . . . He came to the end with +no full grasp of the purport. + +His wits were dulled, too, being preoccupied--in spite of +Lippity-Libby--with suspicions of Mr Pamphlett. He recognised the +hand of an enemy; and though conscious of possessing few friends in +the world (none, maybe--he did not care how many or how few, anyway), +he was aware of one only enemy--Pamphlett. He held this tenement +which Pamphlett openly coveted: but what besides had he that any one +could envy? Who else could wish him worse off than he was? +His broken past, his present poverty and daily mental anguish, his +future sans hope--any one who wanted these might take 'em and +welcome! + +But when, on the second reading, he reached the last paragraph but +one, his heart stood still for a moment as if under a sudden stab. + +Yes, . . . in the man or woman who had written this letter he had an +enemy who indeed wished him worse off than he was, and not only worse +but much worse; who would take from him not only the roof over his +head, but even the dreadful refuge of the Workhouse; who would hunt +him down even into jail. That talk about his not going to the War +was all nonsense. How could all the Coastguard or Custom-house +Officers in Christendom force a man to go to the War with a growth +under his thigh as big as your fist? Damn the War!--he'd scarcely +given a thought to it (being so worried with other matters) until +last night. He hadn't a notion, at this moment, what it was all +about. But anyhow that stuff about "want of pluck" was silly +nonsense,--almost too silly to vex a man. He would have gone fast +enough had he been able. In truth, Nicky-Nan's conscience had no +nerve to be stung by imputations of cowardliness. He had never +thought of himself as a plucky man--it wasn't worth while, and, for +that matter, _he_ wasn't worth while. He had, without considering +it, always found himself able to take risks alongside of the other +fellows. Moreover, what did he amount to, with his destinies, hopes, +and belongings all told, to be chary of losing them or himself? + +But it was a fact, as the letter hinted, that some years ago, and for +two successive seasons, the Reservists' training happening to fall at +a time when fish was plentiful and all hands making money, he, with +one or two other men, had conspired with a knavish Chief Officer of +Coastguard to put a fraudulent trick on the Government. It was the +Chief Officer who actually played the trick, entering them up as +having served a course which they had never attended, and he had kept +their training pay as his price. What his less guilty conspirators +gained was the retention of their names on the strength, to qualify +them in due time for their pensions. + +This and other abuses of the old system had been abolished when the +Admiralty decided that every reservist must put in his annual spell +of training at sea. The trick at the time had lain heavily upon +Nicky-Nan's conscience: but with time he had forgotten it. Since the +new order came into force, he had fulfilled his obligations regularly +enough--until the year before last, by which time his leg really +disabled him. It had fortuned, however, that one afternoon on the +Quay, loafing around less on the chance of a job (for odd jobs are +scarce at Polpier) than to wile away time, he had encountered Dr +Mant, the easy-going practitioner from St Martin's. Dr Mant +fancying an excursion after the mackerel, at that time swarming close +inshore, Nicky-Nan had rowed him out and back along the coast to St +Martin's. The bargain struck for half-a-crown, the doctor sent his +trap back by road. + +Some way out at sea he inquired, "Hullo! what's wrong with that right +knee of yours?" + +"Ricked it," answered Nicky-Nan mendaciously, and added, "I was +thinkin' to consult you, sir. I be due for trainin' with the Reserve +in a fortni't's time." + +"Want a certificate? Here, let me have a feel what's wrong." +The Doctor interrupted his whiffing for a moment to reach forward and +feel Nicky's knee professionally, outside the thick sea-cloth +trousers. "Hurts, does it? You've a nasty swelling there, my man." + +"It hurts a bit, sir, and no mistake. If I could only have a +certificate now--" + +"All right; I'll give you one," said the Doctor, and turned his +attention again to the mackerel. + +Before stepping ashore at St Martin's, he pulled out a fountain-pen +and scribbled the certificate on a leaf torn from his note-book. +Having with this and one shilling compounded for his trip, he said as +he traced up his catch-- + +"There, stick that in an envelope and post it. You're clearly not +fit for service afloat till that swelling goes down." + +Nicky-Nan duly posted the certificate, which Dr Mant had +characteristically forgotten to date. After a week it came back with +an official note drawing Nicky's attention to this, and requesting +that the date should be inserted. + +"Red tape," said Nicky. He borrowed a pen from Mrs Penhaligon, and +wrote the date quite accurately at the foot of the document. + +Then, for some reason or other, his conscience smote him. He put off +posting the letter; and at this point again fortune helped him. +Word came to him by a chance wind that the staff of the Coastguard +had been shifted, over at Troy. Also (though he never discovered +this) the Chief Officer of Customs, after returning the certificate, +had left for his summer holiday. + +So Nicky-Nan kept it in his pocket; and nothing happened. + +The next year--so easy is the slope of Avernus--Nicky-Nan, who had +felt many qualms over filling in a date which (though accurate) +should by rights have been filled in by the Doctor, felt none at all +in adding a slight twiddle of the pen which changed "1912" into +"1913"; by which he escaped again, and again went undetected. + +It had all been contrived so easily, and had succeeded so easily! +Everything said and done, his leg was worse. Any doctor alive, if +brought in, would bear witness that it incapacitated him. + +Also any man, who looks ahead, will fight for the pension which alone +stands between him and the workhouse. + +With such arguments Nicky-Nan had salved his conscience; and his +conscience had slept under them. + +Now in a moment, with eyes fixed on the fatal handwriting, he saw +every bandage of false pretence, all his unguents of conscience, +stripped away, laying his guilt bare to the world. + +An enemy was on his track--one who knew and could call up fatal +evidence. + +The light in the window-pane had been growing darker for some +minutes. The morning had broken squally, with intervals of sunshine. +A fierce gust came howling up the little river between its leaning +houses and broke in rain upon the bottle-glass quarrels of the +window. + +Nicky-Nan started, as though it were a hand arresting him. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +TREASURE TROVE. + + +The rain--the last, for many weeks, to visit Polpier--cleared up soon +after midday. At one o'clock or thereabouts Nicky-Nan, having dined +on a stale crust and a slice of bacon, and recovered somewhat from +his first alarm (as even so frugal a meal will put courage into a +man), ventured to the porch again for a look at the weather. +The weather and the set of the wind always come first in a Polpier +man's interest. They form the staple of conversation on the +Quay-side. Fish ranks next: after fish, religion: after religion, +clack about boats and persons; and so we come down to politics, peace +and war, the manner of getting to foreign ports and the kind of +people one finds in them. + +Nicky-Nan could read very few signs of the weather from his dark +little parlour. The gully of the river deflected all true winds, and +the overhanging houses closed in all but a narrow strip of sky, +prolonged study of which was apt to induce a crick in the neck. +To be sure, certain winds could be recognised by their voices: a +southerly one of any consequence announced itself by a curious +droning note which, if it westered a little, rose to a sharp whistle +and, in anything above half-a-gale, to a scream. But to _see_ what +the weather was like, you must go to the front porch. + +Nicky-Nan went to the front porch and gazed skyward. The wind--as +the saying is--had "catched in," and was blowing briskly from the +north-west, chasing diaphanous clouds across the blue zenith. +The roofs still shone wet and dazzling, and there were puddles in the +street. But he knew the afternoon was going to be a fine one. +He took pleasure in this when, a few moments later, his ear caught +the thudding of a distant drum. . . . Yes, yes--it was Bank Holiday, +and the children would be assembling, up the valley, for the +Anniversary Treat of the Wesleyan Sunday School. There would be +waggons waiting to convey them up-inland to Squire Tresawna's +pleasure-grounds--to high shaven lawns whereon, for once in the year, +they could enjoy themselves running about upon the level. +(In Polpier, as any mother there will tell you, a boy has to wear out +his exuberance mostly on the seat of his breeches and bring it to a +check by digging in his heels somewhere. And the wastage at these +particular points of his tailoring persists when he grows up to +manhood; for a crabber sits much on the thwart of a boat and drives +with his heels against a stretcher. Thus it happens that +three-fourths of Billy Bosistow's cobbling is devoted to the +"trigging" of boot-heels, while the wives, who mend all the small +clothes, have long ago and by consent given up any pretence of +harmonising the patch with the original garment. At Troy and at +St Martin's they will tell you that every Polpier man carries about +his home-address on his person, and will rudely indicate where. +Mrs Penhaligon put it one day in more delicate proverbial form. +"In a rabbit-warren," she said, "you learn not to notice scuts.") + +While Nicky-Nan--who, as we have said, had a fondness for children-- +stood and eyed the weather with approval, Mrs Penhaligon came +bustling out, with her bonnet on. + +"Lord sakes!" she exclaimed. "Be that the drum already? What a +whirl one does live in!--and if there's one thing I hate more'n +another, 'tis to be fussed." + +"What about the children, ma'am?" + +"The children? . . . Gone on this half-hour, I should hope. +'Beida's a good gel enough, when once ye've coaxed her into her best +things. It sobers her you can't think. She'll look after 'Biades +an' see that he don't put 'Lead us, Heavenly Father, lead us' into +his mouth, though 'tis where he puts most things." + +"But you're goin' to the Treat yourself, ma'am?" Nicky-Nan suggested. + +"What, in _this_ rig-out? Catch me!" answered Mrs Penhaligon, not +with literal intention but idiomatically. "No, I'm but goin' up to +see 'em off decent. But I wonder at you liggin' behind, when 'tis +the only Bank Holiday randivoo this side o' Troy. . . ." + +"'Tidn' for want o' will," Nicky-Nan answered ruefully and +truthfully, with a downward glance, which reminded Mrs Penhaligon to +be remorseful. + +"Eh, but I forgot . . . and you with that leg on your mind! +But you'll forgive a body as has been these two days in a stirabout. +And if you're fittin' to take a stroll before I get back, maybe +you'll not forget to lock the house up." + +Nicky-Nan promised. (He and the Penhaligons had separate keys of the +main door.) He watched the good woman as she hurried on her way, +tying her bonnet-strings as she went. + +It occurred to him that, leg or no leg, he felt lonely, and would be +all the better for a stroll. So, having fetched his stick and locked +the house-door behind him, he dandered down towards the Quay. +The street was empty, uncannily silent. "It's queer now," thought +Nicky-Nan, "what a difference childern make to a town, an' you never +noticin' it till they're gone." All the children had departed--the +happy little Wesleyans to climb on board the waggons, the small +Church of England minority to watch them, and solace their envy with +expectation of their own Treat, a more select one, promised for +this-day-fortnight. Then would be _their_ turn, and some people +would live to be sorry that they went to Chapel. But a fortnight is +a long time, and weather in the West is notoriously uncertain. +Of course you cannot eat your cake and have it: but Mrs Penhaligon +arrived just in time to stop a fight between 'Bert and Matthey +Matthew's ugly boy, who sang in the Church choir, and hoped it would +rain. (_Odium theologicum_.) + +The most of the mothers had departed also, either to "assist" at the +Treat or to watch the embarkation: while those of the men whom the +War had not claimed had tramped it over to Troy, which six weeks +ago--and long before the idea of a European War had occurred to any +one--had advertised a small regatta for Bank Holiday, with an +afternoon's horse-racing. + +The tunding of the drum up the valley seemed to Nicky-Nan to +emphasise the loneliness all about him. But down by the Quay-head he +came in sight of Policeman Rat-it-all (so named from his only and +frequent expletive), seated on a bollard and staring up at the sky. + +Nicky-Nan hesitated: hung, indeed, for a moment, on the edge of +flight. This was Bank Holiday, and until to-morrow's sunrise a +constable was powerless as Satan in a charmed circle. Still, the man +might have the ejectment order in his pocket--would, if not already +furnished with it, almost certainly know about it. On the other hand +there was a chance--it might be worth while--to discover how much +Rat-it-all knew. Forewarned is forearmed. Moreover, when your +country is at war, and silence holds the city, there is great comfort +in a chat. Nicky-Nan advanced with a fine air of nonchalance. + +"Lookin' at the sky?" said he. "Wind's back in the nor'-west again. +Which, for settled weather, I'd rather it took off-shore a bit later +in the afternoon. It'll last though, for all that, I shoudn' +wonder." + +Policeman Rat-it-all withdrew his gaze from the firmament. + +"I wasn' thinkin' of the wind," said he. "I take no account of the +elements, for my part. Never did; and now never shall--havin' been +born up to Bodmin, where the prison is." + +"Oh!" said Nicky-Nan suspiciously. "What's it like?" + +"Bodmin?" Policeman Rat-it-all seemed to reflect for a moment. +"Well, I wouldn't just say it's altogether _like_ any place in +particular. There's a street, of course, . . . and there's the +prison, and the barracks, and an asylum where they keep the lunatics, +and a workhouse and what-not. But if you put to me, in so many +words, what it's _like_--" + +"I--I meant the prison," explained Nicky-Nan; that being the only +feature of Bodmin in which he felt any instant concern. + +"It's a place," answered Policeman Rat-it-all with painful lucidity, +"where they shut people up. Sometimes there's an execution. But not +often; not very often; once in a while, as you might say. There's a +monument, too,--upon a hill they call the Beacon. I'm very fond of +Bodmin. It's the County Town, you know; and with these little things +going on, in one way and another, why, that enlarges the mind." + +"Does it so?" asked Nicky-Nan, a trifle puzzled. + +"It do indeed," the constable assured him with conviction. "Take +_me_, now, at this present moment, for instance. You comes upon me +suddent, and what do you catch me doin'? You catches me,"--here his +voice became impressive--"you catches me lookin' up at the sky. +And why am I lookin' up at the sky? It is to say to you, 'Nicholas +Nanjivell, the wind is sot in the sou'-west?'" + +"Not if you expect me to believe 'ee. 'Tisn' a point off +north-an-by-west." + +"--Or," the constable continued, lifting a hand, "is it to say to +you, 'It is sot in the _north-west_,' as the case may be? Or is it I +was wastin' the day in idleness, same as some persons I could mention +in the Force if there wasn' such a thing as discipline? Not so. I +was lookin' up in the execution of my duty. An' what do you suppose +I was lookin' for?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell 'ee," answered Nicky-Nan after a painful +effort at guessing. "It couldn' be for obscene language; nor yet for +drunks." + +Policeman Rat-it-all leant forward and touched him on the top button +of his waistcoat. + +"Zepp-a-lins!" he said mysteriously. + +"Eh?" + +"Zepp-a-lins!" + +"Oh!"--Nicky-Nan's brow cleared--"You mean them German balloon things +the papers make so much fuss about." + +"Die-rigitable," added Rat-it-all. "That's the point." + +"Well? . . . Have 'ee seen any?" Nicky-Nan lifted his gaze skyward. + +"I won't go so far as to say that I've seen anything answerin' to +that description knockin' about--not up to the present. But these +are times when a man must keep his eyes liftin' if he doesn' want Old +England to be taken with what the newspapers call a Bolt from the +Blue." + +"I've come across the expression," said Nicky-Nan. + +"Well, what I say is, Down here, in this corner of the world--though, +mind you, I'm not sayin' anything against it--you don't _reelise_ +things: you reely don't. Now I come from Bodmin, as I think I must +have told you." + +"You did." + +"Where you see the soldiers goin' about with the stripes down their +trowsers: but they've done away with that except for the Yeomanry +(which is black, or dark blue, I forget which), and that's how you +know the difference. So your mind gets enlarged almost without your +knowin' it, and you feel what's at stake." + +"I wonder you didn' want to enlist," said Nicky-Nan. + +"I did: but I was too tall--too tall _and_ too strong," sighed the +policeman, bending his arm and causing his biceps to swell up +mountainously. "You haven't a notion how strong I am--if, for +instance, I took it into my head to catch you up and heave you over +the Quay here. Yes, yes, I am wonderfully well made! And on top of +that, Mother picked up some nonsense against soldiering off a speaker +at a Pleasant Sunday Afternoon. There was nothing for it but the +Force. So here I AM. But give me the wings of a dove, and I'd join +the Royal Flyin' Corps to-morrow, where they get higher pay because +of the risk, same as with the submarines. If you ask _me_, every +Englishman's post at this moment is in the firing line." + +Nicky-Nan winced, and changed the subject in haste. + +"Well, it must be a great consolation to have such strength as +yours," he said pleasantly. "But I wonder--with nothing else doin', +and on a Bank Holiday too--you could manage to stay away from the +School Treat." + +"Rat it all!" broke out the constable, and checked himself. +"I thought I was igsplaining to you," he went on as one who reasons +patiently with an infant, "that a man has to think of something above +an' beyond _self_ in these days." + +"I never found time to think out the rights an' wrongs o' warfare, +for my part," said Nicky-Nan. + +"Ah, I daresay not." Policeman Rat-it-all blew out his chest. +"It's a deep subject," he added, wagging his head solemnly. +"A very deep subject; and I quite understand your not having time for +it lately. How about that Ejectment Order?" + +Nicky-Nan jumped like a man shot. "Ha--have you got the--the thing +about 'ee?" he twittered. "Don't tell me that Pamphlett has got 'em +to send it down? . . . But there, you can't do anything on a Bank +Holiday, anyway." + +"Have I got the thing about me?" echoed the policeman slowly. "You +talk as if 'twas a box o' matches. . . . Well, I may, or I mayn't; +but anyways I've followed the case before Petty Sessions; and if you +haven't a leg to stand on, the only thing is to walk out peaceably. +Mind, I'm puttin' it unofficial, as between friends." + +"And what if I don't?" + +"Then, rat it all!--I mean," the constable corrected himself to a +tolerant smile and gazed down on his mighty hands and arms--"then I +got to put you into the street." + +Nicky-Nan leaned on his stick and the stick shook with his +communicated fury. "Try it--try it--try it!" he blazed out. +"Try it, you Bodmin fathead!" + +He shuffled away, nodding his head with wrath. He roamed the +cliff-paths for an hour, pausing now and again to lean his back +against an out-cropping mass of rock and pass the back of his hand +across his eyes, that at first were bloodshot with fury. He had a +great desire to kill Policeman Rat-it-all. As his passion died down +and he limped forward, to pause and again limp forward, his gait and +the backward cast of his eye were not unlike those of a hunted hare. + +He reached the house door at nightfall, just as Mrs Penhaligon came +shepherding her offspring home down the dusky street, 'Biades had +yielded to the sleep of exhaustion, and lay like a log in his +mother's arms. 'Bert, for no other reason than that he had tired +himself out, was sulky and uncommunicative. But 'Beida--whose whole +manner ever changed when once she had been persuaded into fine +clothes--wore an air of sustained gentility. + +"Squire Tresawna keeps seven gardeners," she reported. "He has three +motor-cars and two chauffeurs. The gardeners keep the front lawn so +short with their mowing-machines that 'Biades couldn't possibly have +made the front of his blouse in the mess it is unless he had +purposely crawled on his stomach to lower me in the eyes of all. +When it got to a certain point I pretended to have no connection with +him. There was nothing else to do. Then he felt sorry and wanted to +hug me in front of everybody. . . . Oh, thank you . . . yes, I've +enjoyed myself very much! Mrs Tresawna wears a toque: but I suppose +that when you get to a certain position you can carry on with toques +long after every one else has given them up. She has two maids; one +of them in a grey velours dress that must have been one of Mrs +Tresawna's cast-offs, for it couldn't possibly have come out of her +wages; though, by the fit, it might have been made for her." + + +A little before ten o'clock Nicky-Nan climbed the stairs painfully to +his bedroom, undressed in part, and lay down--but not to sleep. +For a while he lay without extinguishing the candle--his last candle. +He had measured it carefully, and it reached almost to an inch beyond +the knuckle of his forefinger. It would last him a good two hours at +least, perhaps three. + +He lay for a while almost luxuriously, save for the pain in his leg, +and watched the light flickering on the rafters. They had a few more +days to abide, let Pamphlett's men be never so sharp: but this was +his last night under them. His enemies--some of them until this +morning unsuspected--were closing in around him. They had him, now, +in this last corner. + +But that was for to-morrow. The very poor live always on the edge of +to-morrow; and for that reason the night's sleep, which parts them +from it, seems a long time. + +After all, what could his enemies do to him? If he sat passive, the +onus would rest on them. If Policeman Rat-it-all flung him into the +street, why then in the street he would sit, to the scandal of +Polpier. If, on the other hand, Government claimed him for a +deserter, still Government would have to fetch a cart to convey him +to jail: his leg would not allow him to walk. Of wealth and goods +God Almighty had already eased him. _Cantat vacuus_ . . . He slid a +hand under the bed-clothes and rubbed the swelling on his leg, +softly, wondering if condemned men felt as little perturbed--or some +of them--on the eve of execution. + +He ceased rubbing and lay still again, staring up at the play of +light on the rafters. Fine old timbers they were . . . solid English +oak. Good old families they had sheltered in their time; men and +women that feared God and honoured the King--now all gone to decay in +churchyard, all as cold as homeless fellows. The Nanjivells had been +such a family, and now--what would his poor old mother think of +_this_ for an end? Yet it was the general fate. Pushing men, your +Pamphletts, rise in the world. Old families go down, . . . it +couldn't be worked else. If he had only been born with _push_, now! +If it could only be started over again, . . . if he had been put to a +trade, instead of being let run to sea-- + +He broke off to wonder at the different things the old beams had +looked down upon. Marriages, births--and deaths. The Old Doctor +(he knew) had died in the fore-room, for convenience--the room where +the Penhaligons slept: and even so, the family had been forced to +lift the coffin in and out of the window, because of that twist in +the stairs. There wasn't that difficulty with people's coming _into_ +the world. No doubt in its time this room must have seen a mort of +births too. . . . And the children? All gone, the same way! +Drizzle o' rain upon churchyard graves. . . . "And you, too,"--with a +flicker of his closing eyelids threatening the flicker on the beams-- +"you, too, doomed, my billies! Pamphlett'll take _me_ to-morrow, +_you_ the day after; as in time the Devil'll take him and his!" + +Nicky-Nan rolled over on his side and, perceiving the candle to be +burnt down to a short inch, hastily blew it out. Almost in the act +of relaxing the elbow on which he had raised himself for this effort +he dropped asleep to his pillow. + +For three hours he lay like a log. Then his troubled brain began to +reassert itself. At about two in the morning he sat bolt upright in +his bed. For twenty minutes or so he had been thinking rather than +dreaming, yet with his thought held captive by sleep. + +He reached for his matchbox and struck a light. . . . The whole world +was after him, hunting him down, tearing down the house above his +head! . . . Well, he would go down with the house. Pamphlett, or +Government, might take his house: but there was the old +hiding-cupboard to the right of the chimney-breast. . . . + +When they summoned him to-morrow, he would have vanished. +Only by uncovering his last shelter should they discover what was +left of him. He would perish with the house. + +He lit the candle and carried it to the cupboard; opened this, and +peered into the well at his feet: lifted one of the loose +bottom-boards, and, holding himself steady by a grip on the scurtain, +thrust a naked leg down, feeling into vacancy. + +The ball of his foot touched some substance, hard and apparently +firm. He supposed it to be a lower ceiling of the hole, and, after +pressing once or twice to make sure, put all his weight upon it. + +With a creak and a rush of masonry the whole second flooring of the +cupboard gave way beneath him, leaving his invalid leg dangling, in +excruciating pain. But that the crook of his elbow caught across the +scurtain (shooting darts as of fire up the jarred funny-bone), he had +made a part of the avalanche, the noise of which was enough to wake +the dead. Luckily, too, he had set his candle on the planching +floor, just wide of the cupboard entrance, and it stood burning as +though nothing had happened. + +With pain which surely must be worse than any pain of death, he +heaved himself back and on to the bedroom floor again. The cascade +of plaster, timber, masonry, must (he judged) have shot itself +straight down into his parlour below. + +He picked up the candle, and warily--while his leg wrung him with +torture at every step--crept down the stairs to explore. + +The parlour door opened inwards. He thrust it open for a short way +quite easily. Then of a sudden it jammed: but it left an aperture +through which he could squeeze himself. He did so, and held the +candle aloft. + +While he stared, first at a hole in the ceiling, then at the "scree" +which had broken through it and lay spread, fan-shaped, on the solid +floor at his feet, he heard a footstep, and Mrs Penhaligon's voice in +the passage without. + +"Mr Nanjivell! Is that Mr Nanjivell?" + +"Yes, ma'am!" + +"Oh, what has happened?" + +"Nothing, ma'am. Only a downrush of soot in the chimney," answered +Nicky-Nan, gasping: for the heap of dust and mortar at his feet lay +scattered all over with golden coins! + +"But the noise was terrible. I--I thought for sure it must be the +Germans," came in Mrs Penhaligon's voice. + +"Nothing of the sort. You exaggerate things," answered Nicky-Nan, +commanding his voice. "A rush of soot down the chimney, that's all. +I've been expectin' it for weeks." + +"You mustn't mind my bein' easily alarmed--left alone as I be with a +family--" + +"Not in the least, ma'am." Nicky-Nan resolutely closed the door and +lifted his candle to confirm the miracle. + +The candle, which had been guttering, shot up one last flame and died +on a flicker of gold. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +"QUID NON MORTALIA PECTORA . . ." + + +A moment later Nicky-Nan took a step to the door, half-repentant, on +an impulse to call Mrs Penhaligon back and bid her fetch a candle. +God knows how much of subsequent trouble he might have spared himself +by obeying that impulse: for Mrs Penhaligon was a woman honest as the +day; and withal had a head on her shoulders, shrewd enough--practised +indeed--in steering the clumsy male mind for its good. + +But, as we have recorded, Nicky-Nan, having suffered in early life +from a woman, had been turned to a distrust of the sex; a general +distrust which preoccupied with its shadow the bright exception that, +on a second thought, he was ready enough to recognise in Mrs +Penhaligon. + +This second thought came too late, however. He took one step towards +the door, guided by the glimmer, beneath it, of her retreating +candle. His hand even fumbled for the latch, and found it. But a +sudden shyness seized him and he drew back. He heard her footsteps +creaking on the party-stairs: heard the sound of her door softly +closed, then the sound of a bolt thrust home in its socket; and +turned to face darkness. + +His brain worked quite clearly. He guessed well enough what had +happened. In his youth he had often listened, without taking note of +their talk, while his elders debated how it came about that the Old +Doctor had left, beyond some parcels of real estate--cottage property +for the most part, the tenants of which were notoriously lax in +paying their rents--but a very few personal effects. There were book +debts in an inordinate mass; and the heirs found an inordinate +difficulty in collecting them, since the inhabitants of Polpier--a +hardy sea-faring race--had adopted a cheerful custom of paying for +deliverance from one illness when they happened (if ever they did) to +contract another: and this custom they extended even to that branch +of medical service which by tradition should be rewarded in ready +money. ("I always," explained a Polpier matron, "pays 'en ver one +when I engages 'en ver the next; an' the laast I'll never pay ver"-- +and she never did.) On top of this, Polpier folk argued that +doctoring wasn't, like property, a gift which a man could pass on to +his heirs, and most certainly not if they happened to be--as they +were--a corn-factor and an aged maiden sister of independent but +exiguous means. "As _I_ look at it," some one put this argument, on +the Quay, "th' Old Doctor's mastery was a thing to hisself, and a +proper marvel at that. Us brought nothin' into the world, my sons +an' us can't carry nothin' out: but that don't mean as you can leave +it behind--leastways, not when it takes the form of professional +skill. . . . Why, put it to yourselves. Here's th' old man gone up +for his reward: an' you can hear th' Almighty sayin', 'Well done, +thou good an' faithful servant.'"--"Amen," from the listeners.-- +"Yes, an' 'The labourer is worthy of his hire,' and what not. +'Well, then,' the Lord goes on, flatterin'-like, 'what about that +there talent I committed to 'ee? For I d' know _you_'re not the sort +to go hidin' it in a napkin.' An' d' 'ee reckon th' old chap'll be +cuttin' such a figure as to own up, 'Lord, I left it to a +corn-merchant'? Ridic'lous to suppose! . . . _The Lord giveth, an' +the Lord taketh away_. . . . With cottage property, I grant 'ee, +'tis another thing. Cottage property don't go on all-fours." + +Nicky-Nan, then, guessed well enough what had happened. Almost in a +flash he had guessed it. + +He had surprised the Old Doctor's secret, hidden all these years. +Folks used to make hoards of their money in the bygone days, when +Napoleon threatened to invade us and deposit banks were scarce. +And the Doctor, by all that tradition told, was never a man to break +a habit once formed. For more than the span of two generations this +wealth had lain concealed; and now _he--he_, Nicholas Nanjivell--was +a rich man, if only he played his cards well! + +With how sure an instinct he had clung to the old house!--had held on +to this relic of a past gentility to which by rights he belonged! + +He was a rich man now, and would defy Pamphlett and all his works-- + + How pleasant it is to have money, heigho! + How pleasant it is to have money!-- + +if only he knew how much! + +And yet . . . Although philosophers in all ages have descanted on the +blessings of Hope, and the part played by Imagination in making +tolerable the business of living--so that men in the mass not only +carry life through with courage but will turn and fight desperately +for it, like stags at bay--it is to be doubted if one in ten ever +guesses how constantly he is sustained by this spirit scorning the +substance, gallantly blind, with promises lifting him over defeat. +I dare to say that, save for the strength of hope it put into him, +this wealth, so suddenly poured at Nicky-Nan's feet, doubled his +discomfort, physical and mental. + +Of his physical discomfort, just now, there could be no question. +He could not find courage to leave his trove and climb the stairs +back to his bedroom. Some one might rob him while he slept, and-- +horror!--he would never even know of how much he had been robbed. +The anguish in his leg forbade his standing sentry: the night wanted +almost three hours of dawn. Shirt and trousers were his only +garments. + +He knelt and groped on the stone floor to a corner clear of the +fallen rubbish. On his way his fingers encountered a coin and +clutched it--comfort, tangible proof that he had not been dreaming. +He seated himself in the corner, propping his back there, and fell to +speculating--sensing the coin in his palm, fingering it from time to +time. + +The Old Doctor had always, in his lifetime, been accounted a +well-to-do man. . . . Very likely he had started this hoard in +Bonaparte's days, and had gone on adding to it in the long years of +peace. . . . It would certainly be a hundred pounds. It might be a +thousand. One thousand pounds! + +But no--not so fast! Put it at a hundred only, and daylight would be +the unlikelier to bring disappointment. The scattered coins he had +seen by that one brief flash of the candle danced and multiplied +themselves before his eyes like dots of fire in the darkness. +Still he resolutely kept their numbers down to one hundred. + +A hundred pounds! . . . Why, that, or even fifty, meant all the +difference in life to him. He could look Pamphlett in the face now. +He would step down to the Bank to-morrow, slap seven sovereigns down +on the counter--but not too boldly; for Pamphlett must not suspect-- +and demand the change in silver, with his receipt. Full quittance-- +he could see Pamphlett's face as he fetched forth the piece of paper +and made out that quittance, signing his name across a postage stamp. + +Not once in the course of his vision-building did it cross +Nicky-Nan's mind that the money was--that it could be--less than +legitimately his. Luck comes late to some men; to others, never. +It had come late to him, yet in the nick of time, as a godsend. +His family and the Old Doctor's had intermarried, back along, quite +in the old days; or so he had heard. . . . Nicky-Nan knew nothing of +any law about treasure-trove. Wealth arrived to men as it befell or +as they deserved; and, any way, "findings was keepings." His notion +of other folks' concern in this money reached no further than a vague +fear of folks in general--that they might rob him or deprive him of +it in some way. He must go to work cautiously. + +Thus out of despair Fortune lifted him and began to install him in +fear. + +He must go to work _very_ cautiously. Being all unused to the +possession of money, but accustomed to consider it as a weapon of +which fortunate men obtained a hold to employ it in "besting" others +less fortunate, he foresaw endless calls upon his cunning. But this +did not forbid his indulging in visions in which--being also at +bottom good-natured--he pictured himself as playing the good genius +in his native town, earning general gratitude, building in a +large-handed way the new pier that was so badly needed, conferring +favours right and left, departing this life amid the mourning of the +township, perchance (who could tell?) surviving for the wonder of +generations to come in a carved statue at the Quay-head. He had +observed, in the ports he had visited abroad, such statues erected in +memory of men he had never heard tell of. It would be a mighty fine +thing--though a novelty in Polpier--to have one's memory kept alive +in this fashion. . . . He would lord it in life too, as became a +Nanjivell--albeit the last of the race. To the Penhaligon family he +would be specially kind. . . . Upon other deserving ones he would +confer surprising help by stealth. . . . He wished now that, in spite +of experience, he had married and begotten children--an heir at +least. It would be a fine thing to restore the stock to a prospect +of honour. He wondered that in the past he had never realised his +plain duty in this light and taken the risk. As it was, the old name +could only be preserved in a commonalty's gratitude. + +The flagged floor galled him cruelly; for he was of lean build. +Shift his posture or his weight as he might, after a few seconds' +ease his haunch-pins were pressing again upon the pavement, with no +cushion of flesh but a crushed nerve or two that kept telephoning +misery to his knee and fetching fierce darts of pain for response. +A quick succession of these, running into one as though a red-hot +iron had been applied under the thigh, searing it to the very bone, +stabbed suddenly into his brain with a new terror. He had forgotten +the anonymous letter and its threat! + +He was a rich man now. The business of a rich man was to stay at +home and preserve his riches while making use of them-like +Pamphlett. Who in this world ever heard of a rich man being hauled +off to serve in the Navy as a common seaman? The thing was +unprecedented. He could buy himself out; at the worst by paying up +the money he had drawn. + +Yes, but this would involve disclosing his wealth, and the source of +it. . . . He was terribly afraid of publicity. He had enemies, as +the letter proved: he suspected that the law itself might be another +enemy--you could never predict which side the law would take--and +between them, if they got to know his secret, they would despoil him. + . . . On the other hand if, covering his secret, he opposed but a +passive resistance, they might carry him off to jail, and then all +this money would be laid bare to the world. Intolerable exposure! + +He must hide it. . . . He must count it, and then--having staved off +Pamphlett--hide it tomorrow with all speed and cunning. When would +the dawn come? + +The sun, in the longitude of Polpier, was actually due to rise a few +minutes before five o'clock. But Polpier (as I have told) lies in a +deep cleft of the hills. Nicky-Nan's parlour looked out on a mere +slit at the bottom of that cleft; and, moreover, the downfall of +plaster blocked half the lower portion of its tiny dirty window. + +What with one hindrance and another, it was almost a quarter past +five before daylight began to glimmer in the parlour. It found him +on his knees--not in prayer, nor in thanksgiving, but eagerly feeling +over the grey pile of rubbish and digging into it with clawed +fingers. + +An hour later, with so much of daylight about him as the window +permitted, he was still on his knees. Already he had collected more +than a hundred golden coins, putting them together in piles of +twenty. + +The dawn had been chilly: but he was warm enough by this time. +Indeed, sweat soaked his shirt; beads of sweat gathered on his grey +eyebrows, and dripped, sometimes on his hands, sometimes on the pile +of old plaster--greyish-white, and fine almost as wood-ash--into +which they dug and dug, tearing the thin lathes aside, pouncing on +each coin brought to the surface. + +Once only--though the kneeling cost him torture, and the sweat came +no less from anguish than from exertion--did he pause and straighten +himself up to listen. Upstairs the Penhaligon children had awakened +with the daylight and were talking--chirruping like sparrows--before +they left their beds-- + + Hey! now the day dawis; + The joly cock crawis . . . + +--but Nicky-Nan toiled on in his dim parlour, collecting wealth. + +By eight o'clock he had picked up and arranged--still in neat piles +of twenty--some eight hundred coins of golden money. His belly was +fasting: but he had forgotten the crust in the cupboard. Had he not +here enough to defray a king's banquet? + +Some one tapped on the door. Nicky-Nan, startled, raised himself +upright on his knees and called in a tremor-- + +"No admittance!" + +As he staggered up and made for the door, to press his weight against +it, Mrs Penhaligon spoke on the other side. + +"Mr Nanjivell!" + +"Ma'am?" + +"The postman, with a letter for you! I'll fetch it in, if you wish: +but the poor fellow 'd like a clack, I can see." + +It jumped to his tongue to bid her fetch and pass it in to him under +the door. The outside of a letter would not tell her much, and +anyhow would excite less curiosity than his own corporal envelope, +begrimed as it was just now with dust and plaster and cobwebs. +But the end of her message alarmed him with misgivings more serious. +"Why should Lippity-Libby want a clack with him? . . . Just for +gossip's sake?--or to convey a warning?" Lippity-Libby knew, or +averred that he knew, the author of yesterday's anonymous +letter. . . . + +"Tell him I'll be out in a moment!" + +Nicky-Nan beat his hands together softly to rid them of the worst of +the plaster, then smoothed them briskly down his chest in a hasty +effort to remove the cobwebs that clung there. The result--two +damning smears on the front of his shirt--was discouraging. + +He opened the door with great caution, peered out into the passage, +and found to his great relief that Mrs Penhaligon, that discreet +woman, had withdrawn to her own premises. + +He would have reconnoitred farther, but in the porch at the end of +the passage Lippity-Libby stood in plain view, with the street full +of sunshine behind him. So Nicky-Nan contented himself with closing +the door carefully and hasping it. + +"If," began Lippity-Libby, "you go on gettin' letters at the rate o' +one a day, there's only two ways to it. Either you'll practise +yourself not to keep the King's postman waitin', or you'll make it up +afterwards in the shape of a Christmas-box. . . . I ought in fairness +to tell you," Lippity-Libby added, "that there _is_ a third way-- +though I hate the sight of it--and that's a letter-box with a slit in +the door. Parson Steele has one. When I asked en why, he laughed +an' talked foolish, an' said he'd put it up in self-defence. Now, +what sort o' defence can a letter-box be to any man's house? +And that was six months afore the War, too!" + +"Another letter for me?" Nicky-Nan hobbled forward, blinking against +the sunlight. + +"'Ho-Haitch-Hem-Hess'--that means 'On His Majesty Service'; +post-mark, Troy. . . . Hullo!--anything wrong wi' the house?" + +"Eh?" + +"Plasterin' job?" + +Nicky-Nan understood. "What's that to you?" he asked curtly. + +"I don' know how it should happen," mused Lippity-Libby after a pause +of dejection; "but the gettin' of letters seems to turn folks +suspicious-like all of a sudden. You'd be surprised the number that +puts me the very question you've just asked. An' they tell me that +'tis with money the same as with letters. I read a tract one time, +about a man that found hisself rich of a sudden, and instead o' +callin' his naybours together an' sayin' 'Rejoice with me,' what d'ye +think he went an' did?" + +"Look here," said Nicky-Nan, eyeing the postman firmly. "If you're +hidin' something behind this clack, I'll trouble you to out with it." + +"If you don't _want_ the story, you shan't have it," said +Lippity-Libby, aggrieved. "'Tis your loss, too; for it was full of +instruction, an' had a moral at the end in different letterin'. . . . +You're upset this mornin', that's what you are: been up too early an' +workin' too hard at that plasterin' job, whatever it is." The little +man limped back into the roadway and cricked his head back for a gaze +up at the chimneys. "Nothing wrong on this side, seemin'ly. . . . +Nor, nor there wasn't any breeze o' wind in the night, not to wake +me. . . . Anyways, you're a wonderful forgivin' man, Nicholas +Nanjivell." + +"Why so?" + +"Why, to be up betimes an' workin' yourself cross, plasterin' at th' +old house, out o' which--if report's true--you'll be turned within a +week." + +"Don't you listen to reports; no, nor spread 'em. Here, hand me over +my letter. . . . 'Turn me out,' will they? Go an' tell 'em they +can't do it--not if they was to bring all the king's horses and all +the king's men!" + +"And _they_ be all gone to France. There! there! As I said to +myself only last night as I got into bed--'What a thing is War!' +I said, 'an' o' what furious an' rummy things consistin'--marches to +an' fro, short commons, shootin's of cannon, rapes, an' other +bloodthirsty goin's-on; an' here we be in the midst thereof! +That's calkilated to make a man _think_.' . . . But I must say," said +Lippity-Libby, eyeing the sky aloft, "the glass is goin' up stiddy, +an' _that's_ always a comfort." + +As the old man took his departure, Nicky-Nan broke the seal of his +letter, opened it, and read-- + +To Nicholas Nanjivell, +R.N.R., Polpier. + + Troy, August 3rd, 1914. + +I am advised that you have failed to join the Royal Naval Reserve +Force called into Active Service under the Act 22 and 23 Vict. c. 40; +nor have you reported yourself at the Custom-House, St Martin's, +Cornwall, as required on the Active Service Paper, R.V. 53, duly +delivered to you. + +Before filling up your description on Form R.V. 26a (R.N.R. +Absentees and Deserters) I desire that you will let me know the cause +of your non-compliance with H.M. summons; and, if the cause be +sickness or other disablement, that you will forward a medical +certificate _immediately_, as evidence of same, to + + Joshua Johns, + Registrar, Royal Naval Reserve. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +BUSINESS AS USUAL. + + +"Business as usual!" said Mr Pamphlett heartily to his clerk Mr +Hendy, as he let himself in at 9.40 by the side door of the Bank. +Mr Hendy lived on the premises, which his wife served as caretaker, +with a "help" to do the scrubbing. + +Mr Hendy, always punctual, stood ready in the passage, awaiting his +master. He received Mr Pamphlett's top-hat and walking-stick, helped +him off with his black frock-coat, helped him on with the light +alpaca jacket in which during the hot weather Mr Pamphlett combined +banking with comfort. + +"Business as usual!" said Mr Pamphlett, slipping into the alpaca. +"That's the motto. Old England's sound, Hendy!" + +"Yes, sir: leastways, I hope so." + +"Sound as a bell. It's money will put us through this, Hendy, as it +always has. We mayn't wear uniforms"--Mr Pamphlett smoothed down the +alpaca over his stomach--"but we're the real sinews of this War." + +Mr Hendy--a slight middle-aged man, with fluffy straw-coloured hair +which he grew long above his ears, to compensate for the baldness of +his cranium--answered that he was glad Mr Pamphlett took it in so +hearty a fashion, but for his part, if it wasn't for the Missus, he +was dying to enlist and have a slap at the Germans. Mr Pamphlett +laughed and entered his private office. Here every morning he dealt +with his correspondence; while Hendy, in the main room of the Bank, +unlocked the safe, fetched out the ready cash and the ledgers, and +generally made preparations before opening the door for business on +the stroke of ten. + +Five or six letters awaited Mr Pamphlett. One he recognised by +envelope and handwriting as a missive from headquarters: and he +opened it first, wondering a little, pausing, as he broke the seal, +to examine the post-marks. "Yesterday had been Bank Holiday. . . . +But, to be sure, in these times the Head Office would very likely be +neglecting Bank Holidays, the clerks working at high pressure. . . ." + +But no: the London post-mark bore date "Aug. 1." The letter had been +received and delivered at Polpier on the 2nd, and had been lying in +the bank letter-box for two whole days. He broke the seal in some +trepidation: for he had spent the last sixty hours or so of national +emergency on a visit with Mrs Pamphlett to her brother-in-law, a +well-to-do farmer, who dwelt some twelve miles inland. Here Mr +Pamphlett, after punctual and ample meals, had gently stimulated +digestion with hot brandy-and-water (which never comes amiss, even in +August, if you happen to be connected with farming and have duly kept +the Sabbath), and had sat with one leg crossed over the other, +exchanging--rather by his composed bearing than in actual words-- +confidence in Britain's financial stability against confidence in her +agriculture. His presence had somewhat eased a trying situation at +Lawhilly Farm, where his young fool of a nephew--an only son, too-- +fired by the war, had gone so far as to distress his parents with +talk of enlisting. + +"Business as usual!" had been Mr Pamphlett's advice to the young man. +"There was, for a day or two--I won't deny it--a certain--er-- +tendency to what I may call _nervousness_ in the City. Can we wonder +at it, holding as we do so many--er--threads?" Mr Pamphlett held up +his two hands, and spread them as though they contained a skein of +wool to be unwound. "But the Chancellor of the Exchequer took steps. +Opposed as I am in a general way to the present Government, I am free +to admit that, at this juncture, the Chancellor of the Exchequer +realised his responsibilities and--er--took steps. Markets may--er-- +fluctuate for some weeks to come--may, as I would put it, exhibit a +certain amount of--er--unsteadiness. But we shall tide that over, +easily--as I am advised, quite easily. Great Britain's credit is +solid; that's the word, _solid_: and if that--er--solidarity holds +true of our monetary system with"--here Mr Pamphlett expanded and +contracted his fingers as if gathering gossamers--"its delicate and +far-reaching complexities. . . That was an excellent duck, James," +said he, turning to his brother-in-law. "I don't remember when I've +tasted a better." + +"Maria believes in basting, I thank God," said his brother-in-law, +Farmer Pearce acknowledging the compliment. "'Tis a more +enterprisin' life you lead by the sea, if your business calls you +that way. You pick up more money--which is everything in these +days--and you see the ships and yachts going to and fro, and so +forth. But you can't breed ducks for table. Once they get nigh to +tidal water, though it be but to the head of a creek, the flesh turns +fishy, and you can't prevent it. We must set it down to Natur', I +suppose. But inland ducks for me!" + +"Maria has a great gift with the stuffing, too. . . . You're spoilt, +Ebenezer--and so too is Obed here--up in this fat of the land, though +you don't know it. Eh?" said Mr Pamphlett sharply as his nephew +Obed, who had been sitting by and listening sulkily, made an +impatient movement,--"But as I was going on to say, if we, that hold +(as I may put it) the threads of commerce in these times, believe in +sitting solid, why surely the same applies--only more so--to +agriculture." + +"Which is the backbone of Old England," interposed Farmer Pearce, +"an' always has been." + +"There's two ends to most backbones," put in young Obed, who had been +tracing patterns with his fingers on the surface of the mahogany +table. "And I don't pretend to have the cleverer one. But I don't +want the other to be kicked into doin' summat; which is what'll +happen to us farmin' chaps if we don't start enlistin'." + +"The aggericultural community," persisted his father, who had picked +up that resonant term at meetings of the Farmers' Union, "is, an' +always has been, the backbone of England." + +"Then 'tis time we showed it, in the Yeomanry." + +"I wish you'd hold your tongue on that word; when you know your +mother never hears it spoke but she wakes me up at night with the +palpitations. . . . We _be_ showin' it, I tell 'ee. We _be_ doin' +something for our country in this here crisis. Why, didn' Squire +Tresawna ride over but yesterday an' commandeer Tory an' Pleasant?-- +that's my two best waggon-hosses," the farmer explained to his +brother-in-law. "An' didn' he say as most likely he'd be over again, +inside a fortni't, after light draught hosses for the Artillery? +I don't murmur, for my part. We must all be prepared to make +sacrifices in these times. But all I say is, you can't pick up +draught hosses--light _or_ heavy--off a greengrocer, nor yet off a +bird-fancier; an' the man who says you can, I'll tell him to his face +he's no better than a liar," concluded Farmer Pearce, suddenly +growing crimson in the face, and smiting the table with unnecessary +heat. + +"If the hosses be goin', why should the men linger?" young Obed +urged. "An' I don't see what you sacrificed either, over Tory an' +Pleasant; for you told me yourself the Squire gave a very fair price +for 'em." + +"Well, an' I should hope so! You don't reckon as I was goin' to make +Government a present of 'em, do 'ee?--a man rated up to the ears, as +I be!" Here he glanced nervously at his brother-in-law, who (as a +town-dweller) held the monstrous belief that farmers enjoyed their +share, and even a little more, of relief from rating, and had more +than once shown argumentative fight on this subject in the piping +times of peace. But Mr Pamphlett tactfully ignored the challenge. + +"Listen to me, Obed," he put in. "By what I hear from London, as +well as what I read in the papers, the most serious question before +this country just now is to maintain--or, as I might put it, to keep +up--an adequate supply of foodstuffs. To which end," pursued Mr +Pamphlett, in the weighty periods of the "leading article" from which +he had gathered this information, "it appears to us--I mean, to me-- +that our agricultural friends would be well advised, at this +juncture, in considering the advisability, as well as the +feasibility, of restoring a quantity of their pasture-land to an +arable condition, and cultivating it _as_ such. The Board of +Agriculture, it is understood, will shortly issue a circular--er--on +these lines. Now you cannot effect the change thus indicated without +labour--" + +"Or hosses." + +"That there Board of Agriculture," put in the farmer, "is always +settin' up to know us farmers' business better than we d'know it +ourselves. Grow wheat--must we? All very well, an' for my country's +good I'm willin' enough, provided it can be done at a profit. +Will Government guarantee _that?_ . . . No, brother Pamphlett: what +you say about your callin', I says about mine. 'Business as usual'-- +that's my word: an' let Obed here be a good son to his mother an' +bide at home, defyin' all the Germans in Christendom." + + +Mr Pamphlett, then, had spent his week-end in rural comfort, and with +the consciousness of being useful--a steadying influence in a +household threatened by youthful restlessness, which (Heaven knew) +might so easily turn to recklessness. His wife, too, was devotedly +attached to her sister, whose heart had always been liable to +palpitations. But he realised at sight of the letter, which had been +lying so long in the box, that a phrase is not everything: that +"business as usual," while it might serve as a charm or formula +against panic in the market-place, and even sustain in private many a +doubting soul accustomed to take things on trust, was an incantation +something less than adequate to calm the City of London, or the Bank +directors and their confidential clerks, who maybe had been working +in a frenzy through Sunday and Bank Holiday in their closed offices +at headquarters. For a moment Mr Pamphlett realised this, and it +gave him a scare. In the act of opening the letter he cast his eyes +around on the chance that a telegram had followed the letter, +demanding to know the cause that took him from his post at this +crisis. But there was no telegram. The envelope held two +enclosures. He scanned them hurriedly: the blood came back to his +face, and he was a man again. + +The first enclosure merely acknowledged, in conventional words, the +receipt of certain returns posted by him last Friday. The second +ran-- + + New Bank Premises: Polpier Branch. + + Dear Sir,--With reference to the above, the Board has had under + consideration your letter of the 23rd ult.; and directs me to + say that, in the present unsettled situation abroad, and the + consequent need of strict watchfulness over capital expenditure + (however small), it may be wise to defer the issuing of tenders, + as suggested by you, until further notice. The Board has, in + its confidence, entrusted you with almost complete discretion in + this matter; and possibly you may find it difficult, at this + juncture, to delay matters as suggested. If so, please + advise.-- + Yours faithfully, + Walter P. Schmidt, + Managing Director. + +So _that_ was all right! It might defer building operations, but it +need not defer his dealing with Nanjivell, his own tenant, who paid +nothing. He could turn Nanjivell out, and then--well, whenever the +Bank chose to start building, the Directors (having gone so far) +would no doubt consider the length of time the premises had been +standing idle. + +His brow cleared. He opened the next letter, with the handwriting of +which he was familiar enough. One Retallack, a speculative builder, +suggested a small increase on his overdraft, offering security. +This would not do, in War time. Mr Pamphlett dealt with it at once-- + + Dear Sir,--You are doubtless aware that the outbreak of a + European War compels the Banking Houses to look jealously after + all advances, or extensions of credit, even the smallest. + + It is not so much a question of declining this new request on + your part as of reconsidering very carefully the present + position of your account. I will satisfy myself concerning this + and advise you without delay.--I am, dear sir, yours faithfully, + Alfred Pamphlett, + Manager. + +"Business as usual"--Mr Pamphlett repeated it many times to himself +as he went through the rest of his correspondence. His spirit--in +revulsion after his brief scare--soared almost to gaiety. He walked +into the main room of the Bank as Hendy started to pull the +door-bolts. + +"We don't open for business to-day, Hendy." + +Hendy had shown himself flatly incapable of understanding the +Moratorium; what it was or how it worked. Mr Pamphlett, for his +part, was uncertain about the details. But he explained them to +Hendy. + +Then he returned to his private office, pausing by the rack in the +passage to draw from the tail pocket of his frock-coat there a folded +copy of _The Western Morning News_. There was something furtive in +his action: he would have started guiltily had he been surprised in +it, even by the meek Hendy. + +Business--well, business could not be altogether as usual in these +times. As a rule Mr Pamphlett read his paper through, before and +during breakfast, and left it at home for Mrs Pamphlett to scan the +births, deaths, and marriages, the "wanteds," the Court Circular, and +any report there might happen to be of a colliery explosion (she +specialised in colliery explosions: they appealed to her as combining +violent death with darkness) before interviewing the cook. +But to-day, with all Europe in the melting-pot--so to speak--Mr +Pamphlett had broken his rule. He craved to know the exact speed at +which Russia was "steam-rolling." There was a map in the paper, +and it might repay study. + +Before studying the map his eye fell on a paragraph headed "Rise in +Prices." He paused and spent some time over this. + +He was still conning it when the door opened, and Hendy appeared. +Mr Pamphlett muttered "Consols," and refolded the newspaper hastily. + +"Nanjivell is here to see you, sir: at the side door. 'Says he must +speak to you in private." + +"Oh . . . confound Nanjivell! I've had enough of that man. . . . +Very well; but tell him I can't spare a moment over five minutes." + +Hendy ushered in Nicky-Nan, who hobbled forward to the table, hat in +hand. + +"Good-morning, Nanjivell!" said Mr Pamphlett. + +"'Mornin', sir." + +"Another plea, I suppose?--when you had my word on Saturday that I'd +done with you." + +"'Tain't that." + +"Then what is it? . . . For I hardly suppose 'tis to pay up--rent +_and_ arrears." + +"One--two--three--four--five--six--seven!" Nicky-Nan dived in his +pocket for the fistful of coins, picked them out carefully, and laid +them one by one on the table. "I'll take the change an' a receipt, +if you please." + +"How came you by this money?" asked the Bank Manager, after a pause, +staring at the gold. + +"What the hell is that to you?" demanded Nicky-Nan. + +For a moment Mr Pamphlett made no reply. Then he leaned forward and +picked up one of the coins. + +"I asked," he said, "because one of these happens to be a +guinea-piece--a spade guinea, and scarcely worn at all." + +"'Tis as good as a sovereign's worth, hey?" + +"Certainly: worth more in fact." + +"I'll trust 'ee for the difference then," said Nicky-Nan. "As for +how I came by it, I came by it honest, an' that's enough. A man o' +my family may have a bit o' hoard put by--by his forefathers." + +"I see," said Mr Pamphlett thoughtfully. "Hendy shall make out the +receipt. But this doesn't include costs of the ejectment order, you +know." + +"I'll bring 'em to-morrow, if you'll let me know the amount." + +"Hendy shall give you a note of it. . . No--to be fair, the +ejectment order still stands against you. I have power to turn you +out to-morrow." + +"But you won't!" + +"If you use that tone with me, my man, I certainly will. If you take +your receipt and clear out, I may relent so far as to give you a +short grace." + + +When Nicky-Nan had taken his leave, Mr Pamphlett picked up the spade +guinea and considered it curiously. It had a beautifully sharp +impression, and might have been minted yesterday. He thought it +would go very well on his watch-chain. + +Then he opened the paper again, sought out the paragraph headed "Rise +in Prices," and read it through, pausing now and again to pencil a +note or two on the back of an envelope. + +On his way homeward in the dinner-hour he called at Mrs Pengelly's +shop and gave that good woman an order for groceries. The size of it +almost caused her to faint. It ran into double figures in pounds +sterling. + +"Business _as_ usual!" repeated Mr Pamphlett to himself complacently, +as he pursued his way up the hill. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +THE BROKEN PANE + +During his interview with Mr Pamphlett, Nicky-Nan had been in a fever +to get back to his parlour. It had no lock to the door, and goodness +knew what the Penhaligon children might not be up to in these holiday +times. Also he could not rid his mind of a terror that his wealth +might prove, after all, to be fairy gold, and vanish in air. + +It was a relief in a way to find that Mr Pamphlett, after ringing +each coin on his table, had accepted the seven pieces for currency. +But this business of the spade-guinea raised a new scare to agitate +him. + +In a confused way he remembered that in building the coins into piles +he had found some of them to be broader than others, so that their +edges overlapped, and that for symmetry he had sorted these broader +pieces out and stacked them apart. Of the last ten he had made a +mixed pile,--four broad coins at the base, six narrower ones above; +and from this he had taken, purely by chance, the seven topmost to +pay his debt--that is to say, six sovereigns and one guinea-piece. +Luck had stood his friend. A pretty business, had he gone to the +banker with seven of those old-fashioned guineas! + +Mr Hendy had handed him five shillings and fourpence change with his +quittance, and on his way home he made a detour to hobble into Mr +Gedye's shop--"S. Gedye, Ironmonger and Ship-Chandler"--and purchase +two staples, a hasp, and a stout padlock, with key. + +Mr Gedye, selecting these articles with a care that was slow torture +to his customer, opined that the weather was settled at last, and +trusted it would assist the Russians in mobilising. The slower Mr +Gedye became, the more ardently he repeated an expression of hope +that the Russians would hurry up. + +"Once they get going--" said Mr Gedye, and pulled out a drawerful of +staples so far that it upset and spilled its contents in an avalanche +on the dark floor behind the counter. "I knew a ship's captain once, +a Russian that married a woman over to Troy and would go to sleep for +a week on end every time he came home from a voyage. His wife would +wake him up and give him tea: that was all he took--tea without milk, +between the sheets. He had been a Radical over in his own country, +and the Radical agent over to Troy got wind o' this an' took steps to +naturalise him. It took seven years. . . . But put him on deck in a +gale o' wind and a better skipper (I'm told) you wouldn' meet in a +day's march. When he got up an' dressed, he'd dander down to the +butcher's an' point to the fatty parts of the meat with the end of +his walking-stick, which was made out of a shark's backbone, if you +ever! In my experience, a very quiet nation until roused. . . . +Well, the Kaiser's done it this time--and a padlock, I think you +said? An uncomfortable man--that's my opinion of him, and I've never +seen cause to change it. Now, for a padlock, here is one I can +thoroughly recommend, with two keys, so that you can lose one and +still have the other, which is often a convenience. Yu'll be lockin' +up your 'taty-patch, Mr Nanjivell, against the Germans? Well, a very +proper precaution." + +"One can't be too careful in these times," said Nicky-Nan with +feigned artlessness. + +"No, indeed! Anything I can do for 'ee in the way of barbed wire?" + +"No, I thank 'ee." Nicky-Nan's eyes had been wandering around the +shop. "But I'll take this small sieve, now I come to think on it." + +"Certainly, Mr Nanjivell. One-an'-three. Shall I send it for 'ee? +No?--an' nothing further to-day? Then one-an'-three and one is +two-an'-three, an' two two's four, two-an'-seven, screws and staples +two two's, two-an'-eleven. If you ask my opinion we're in for +settled weather." + + +Nicky-Nan's business had taken time--some twenty minutes in excess of +his calculations, as a glance at the sky informed him. (He carried +no watch.) He hurried home in a twitter of nervousness, which +increased as he drew near to his front door. In the passage he +stumbled against a pail of water, all but upsetting it, and swore +under his breath at his evil luck, which had deferred Mrs +Penhaligon's weekly scrubbing to Tuesday (Bank Holiday being a _dies +non_). + +On entering the parlour he drew a breath of relief. No one had +visited it, to disturb it. The threadbare tablecloth rested as he +had spread it, covering the piles of gold; the tattered scrap of +carpet, too, hiding (so far as it might) the scree of fallen rubbish. + +On this rubbish, after assuring himself that his treasure was safe, +he fell to work with the sieve; making as little noise as might be, +because by this time Mrs Penhaligon had begun operations on the brick +flooring of the passage. Mrs Penhaligon's father had been a groom in +Squire Tresawna's service, and she had a trick of hissing softly +while she scrubbed, as grooms do in washing-down and curry combing +their horses. He could hear the sound whenever her brush intromitted +its harsh _whoosh-whoosh_ and she paused to apply fresh soap. +So they worked, the man and the woman--both kneeling--with the thin +door between. + +Nicky-Nan felt no weariness as yet. He used his coal-scraper to fill +the sieve, and shook the fine powdery lime into one heap, and gently +tilted the coarse residuum upon another, after searching it carefully +over. At the end of an hour's labour he had added two guinea-pieces +and nine sovereigns to his collection. + +He vaguely remembered having been told--long ago by somebody--that +sovereigns had first come into use back in the last century, not long +after the battle of Waterloo; that in more ancient times gold had +been paid in guineas; that guineas were then worth much more than +their face value, because of the great amount of paper money; that +Jews went about buying them up for twenty-three or twenty-four +shillings; that, over at Troy, a Jew had been murdered and robbed of +a lot of these coins by the landlord of a public-house. + +He reasoned from this--and rightly, no doubt--that the Old Doctor had +started his hoard in early life, when Boney was threatening to invade +us; and had kept up the habit in later and more prosperous years, +long after the currency had been changed. That would account for the +sovereigns being so many and the guineas by comparison so few. + +He was aching sorely in back and reins: his leg, too, wanted ease. + . . . He would take a rest and spend it in examining the window, by +which alone he could get rid of the rubbish without courting inquiry. +It was his only postern gate. + +It had not been opened for many years--never, indeed, in the time of +his tenancy. Door and fireplace had provided between them all the +ventilation he was conscious of needing. + +It cost him three minutes to push up the lower sash. He managed to +open it some ten inches, and then, as a protest against this +interference with its gradual decay, the sash-cord broke. He heard +with a jump of the heart the weight thud down behind the woodwork: +then, as he groped hastily behind him for a brick, to prop the sash, +it came down with a run, and closed its descent with a jar that shook +out two of its bottle panes to drop into the water that rushed below. +Prompt upon this came a flutter and scurry of wings in water, and a +wild quacking, as a bevy of ducks dashed for shore. + +A casement window was thrust open on the far side of the stream. +A woman's voice shrilled-- + +"That's _you_, is it? Oh, yes--you Penhaligon children! You needn' +clucky down an' hide--an' after breakin' Mr Nanjivell's windows, that +hasn' sixpence between hisself an' heaven, to pay a glazier!" + +(But it was Mr Nanjivell himself who cowered down out of sight, +clutching the woodwork of the window-sill with wealth behind him +surpassing the dreams of avarice.) + +"Proper young limbs you be," the voice went on. "With no father at +home to warm 'ee!"-- + +(Let this not be mistaken for a tribute to Mr Penhaligon's parental +kindness, good father though he was. To "warm" a child in Polpier +signifies to beat him with a strap.) + +"And him in danger of submarines, that snatch a man before his Maker +like a snuff of a candle, while you can find no better way of +employing your holidays than scatterin' other folks' glass to the +danger o' my ducks! You just wait till I've wiped my arms, here, and +I'll be round to tell your mother about 'ee!" + +Nicky-Nan had recognised the voice at once. It belonged to Mrs +Climoe, possibly the champion virago of Polpier, and a woman of her +word--a woman who never missed an opportunity to make trouble. +Her allusion to wiping her arms before action he as swiftly +understood. The window across the stream belonged to Mrs Climoe's +wash-kitchen. Again he cursed the luck that had interposed Bank +Holiday and adjourned the washing operations of Polpier. + +But he must defend himself: for Mrs Climoe never promised anything +which--if it happened to be unpleasant--she did not punctually +perform. With swift cunning he snatched up his parcel of staples and +screws, caught at a poker, and made a leap for the door. + +Here luck aided him. Mrs Penhaligon had finished her scrubbing and +carried her pail out to the porch. There she met Mrs Climoe's first +accost, and it surprised her beyond measure: for her children were +down upon the Quay playing. By rights they should have returned half +an hour before: it was, indeed, close upon dinner-time. But she had +been in the passage for a whole hour, with just an interval now and +then for a dive into the kitchen to see how the pasties were cooking. +She felt morally sure that they could not have returned without her +knowing it. They usually made her so exceedingly well aware of their +return. + +Under Mrs Climoe's onslaught of accusation she wheeled about in +bewilderment, at the sound of hammering, to perceive Nicky-Nan at the +end of the passage, driving a staple into his doorpost with blows of +a poker. + +"There now! What did I tell you?" persisted Mrs Climoe, attempting +to thrust herself past. + +"This is my house," retorted Mrs Penhaligon, bravely heading her off. +"If my children--but I could take my oath, here afore th' Almighty--" + +"You ask Mr Nanjivell! Why d'ee reckon he's puttin' a lock on his +doorway, 'nless 'tis to prevent what I'm tellin' you from happenin' +again?" + +Mrs Penhaligon stared about her. She went to the kitchen, she passed +through the kitchen to the inner room. . . . No children! She came +down the passage and close behind Nicky-Nan (who continued to hammer +hypocritically), she gazed up the stairway and called "'Bert!" +"'Beida!" "You naughty children--come down this moment!" Still no +answer. + +She turned upon Nicky-Nan. "If they're really here and have been +breakin' your glass--" + +"You never heard no complaint from _me_, ma'am," answered Nicky-Nan, +still intent on fixing his staple. + +"Oh!" interposed Mrs Climoe viciously, "if you two are colleaguin' +already to hush something up, the affair lies between you, of course. +It seems odd to me, Maria Penhaligon, an' your proper husband not two +days gone to the wars. But if Nicholas Nanjivell, here, chooses to +play father to the fatherless an' cover up the sins of the children +that go an' break his parlour windows afore my very eyes, well, +'tisn't for me to say more than I hope no harm'll come of it." + +She was preparing to say more. If she said more, Nicky-Nan did not +hear it. For at this moment the three Penhaligon children broke in +at the porch, burst past Mrs Climoe, and clung to their mother, +clamouring for dinner. + +In the hubbub Nicky-Nan meanly slipped back to his den, closed the +door, and dragged two chairs against it. Then he took a worn +tea-tray and propped it against the window, blocking the broken +panes. It seemed to him that the world had suddenly grown full of +eyes, peering upon him from every side. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +THE VICAR'S MISGIVINGS. + +Mrs Steele, the Vicar's wife--a refined, shy little woman, somewhat +austere in self-discipline and her own devotional exercises, but +incapable of harsh judgment upon any other living soul--had spent +Bank Holiday in writing letters and addressing them (from a list +drawn up in long consultation with her husband) to "women-workers" of +all denominations in the parish, inviting them to meet in the +Vicarage drawing-room at 3.30 P.M. on Wednesday, to discuss "what +steps (if any) could be taken to form sewing-parties, ambulance +classes, &c.," and later to partake of afternoon tea. + +The list was a depressing one, and not only because it included the +names of Mrs Polsue and Miss Oliver. "It makes my heart sink," Mrs +Steele confessed. "I hadn't realised till now, dear, how lonely we +are--after five years, too--in this parish. Three out of every four +are Nonconformists. It seems absurd, my taking the chair," she added +wistfully. "Most likely they will wonder--even if they don't ask +outright--what business I have to be showing the lead in this way." + +The Vicar kissed his wife. "Let them wonder. And if they ask--but +they won't, being west-country and well-mannered--I shall be here to +answer." + +"I wish you would answer them before they start to ask. That would +be running no risks. A few words from you, just to explain and put +them at their ease--" + +He laughed. "Cunning woman!" said he, addressing an invisible +audience. "She means, 'to put _her_ at her ease,' by my taking over +the few well-chosen remarks expected of the chairwoman. . . . +My dear, I know you will be horribly nervous, and it would be easy +enough for me to do the talking. But I am not going to, and for two +reasons. To begin with, you will do it better--" + +"My _dear_ Robert!" + +"Twice as effectively--and all the more effectively if you contrive +to break down. _That_ would conciliate them at once; for it would be +evident proof that you disliked the job." + +"I don't quite see." + +"The religion of these good people very largely consists in shaping +their immortal souls against the grain: and I admire it, in a sense, +though on the whole it's not comparable with ours, which works +towards God by love through a natural felicity. Still, it is +disciplinary, and this country will have great use for it in the next +few months. To do everything you dislike, and to do it thoroughly, +will carry you quite a long way in war-time. The point at which +Protestantism becomes disreputable is when you so far yield to loving +your neighbour that you start chastising his sins to the neglect of +your own. I have never quite understood why charity should begin at +home, but I am sure that discipline ought to: and I sometimes think +it ought to stay there." + +"That Mrs Polsue has such a disapproving face! . . . I wonder she +ever brought herself to marry." + +"If you had only been following my argument, Agatha, you would see +that probably she had no time for repugnance, being preoccupied in +getting the poor fellow to do what he disliked. . . . Secondly--" + +"Oh! A sermon!" + +"Secondly," pursued the Vicar with firmness, "this War is so great a +business that, to my mind, it just swallows up--effaces--all scruples +and modesties and mock-modesties about precedence and the like. +If any one sees a job that wants doing, and a way to put it through, +he will simply have no time to be humble and let another man step +before him. The jealousies and the broken pieces of Etiquette can be +left to be picked up after the smoke has cleared away; and by that +time, belike, they will have cleared away with the smoke. Do you +remember that old story of Hans Andersen's, about the gale that +altered the signboards? Well, I prophesy that a good many signboards +will be altered by this blow, up and down England, perhaps even in +our little parish. If it teach us at all to see things as they are, +we shall all be known, the rest of our lives, for what we proved +ourselves to be in 1914." + +"I saw in this morning's paper," said Mrs Steele, "that over at Troy +they have an inn called the King of Prussia, and the Mayor and +Corporation think of changing its name." + +"Yes," said her husband gravely; "the Kaiser wrote to the Town Clerk +suggesting the Globe as more appropriate: but the Town Council, while +willing to make some alteration, is divided between the Blue Boar and +the Boot. . . . But that reminds me. If I am to attend your meeting, +let us call in the Wesleyan Minister as a set-off. There's nothing +makes a Woman's Meeting so womanly as a sprinkling of ministers of +religion." + +"Robert, you are talking odiously, and you know it. I hate people to +be satirical or sarcastic. To begin with, I never understand what +they mean, so that I am helpless as well as uncomfortable." + +The Vicar had taken a step or two to the bay-window, where, with +hands thrust within his trouser-pockets, he stood staring gloomily +out on the bright flower-beds that, next to the comeliness and order +of her ministering to the Church--garnishing of the altar, lustration +of the holy vessels, washing and mending of vestments,--were the +pride of Mrs Steele's life. + + "See how the flowers, as at parade, + Under their colours stand display'd: + Each regiment in order grows, + That of the tulip, pink, and rose.-- + O thou, that dear and happy Isle, + The garden of the world erstwhile, + Thou Paradise of the four seas + Which Heaven planted us to please, + But, to exclude the world, did guard + With wat'ry, if not flaming, sword; + Unhappy! shall we never more + That sweet militia restore? + When gardens only had their towers, + And all the garrisons were flowers. . . ." + +He murmured Marvell's lines to himself and, with a shake of the +shoulders coming out of his brown study, swung round to the +writing-table again. + +"Dear, I beg your pardon! . . . The truth is, I feel savage with +myself: and, being a condemned non-combatant, I vented it on the most +sensitive soul I could find, knowing it to be gentle, and taking care +(as you say) to catch and render it helpless." He groaned. +"Yes, yes--I am a brute! Even now I am using that same tone which +you detest. You do right to detest it. But will it comfort you a +little to know that when a man takes that tone, often enough it's +because he too feels helpless as well as angry? 'Mordant' is the +word, I believe: which means that the poor fool bites _you_ to get +his teeth into himself." + +She rose from her writing-chair and touched him by the arm. + +"Robert!" she appealed. + +"Oh, yes--'What is the matter with me?' . . . Nothing--or, in other +words, Everything--that is to say, this War." + +"It's terrible, of course; but I don't see--" She broke off. +"Is it the War itself that upsets you, or the little we can do to +help? If _that's_ your trouble, why, of course it was silly of me to +worry you just now about my being nervous of facing these people. +But we're only at the beginning--" + +"Agatha!" The Vicar drew a hand from his pocket, laid it on his +wife's shoulder, and looked her in the eyes. "Don't I know that, if +the call came, you would face a platoon? It's I who am weak. +This War--" He stared out of the window again. + +"It is a just War, if ever there was one. . . . Robert, you don't +doubt _that_, surely! Forced on us--Why, you yourself used to warn +me, when I little heeded, that the Germans were preparing it, that +'the Day' must come sooner or later: for they would have it so." + +"That's true enough." + +"So positive about it as you were then, proving to me that their +Naval Estimates could spell nothing else! . . . And now that it has +come, what is the matter with _us?_ Have _we_ provoked it? Have +_we_ torn up treaties? Had you, a week ago--had any one we know-the +smallest desire for it?" + +"Before God, we had not. The English people--I will swear to it, in +this corner of the land--had no more quarrel with the Germans than I +have with you at this moment. Why, we saw how the first draft--the +Naval Reservists--went off last Sunday. In a kind of stupor, they +were. But wars are made by Governments, Agatha; never by peoples." + +"And our Government--much as I detest them for their behaviour to the +Welsh Church--our Government worked for peace up to the last." + +"I honestly believe they did. I am sure they did . . . up to the +last, as you say. The question is, _Were they glad or sorry when +they didn't bring it off?_" + +"Robert!" + +"I am trying--as we shall all have to try--to look at things as they +are. This trouble has been brewing ever since the South African War, +. . . and for ten years at least Germany has been shaping up for a +quarrel which we have hoped to decline. On a hundred points of +preparation they are ready and we are not; they have probably sown +this idle nation with their spies as they sowed France before 1870: +they make no more bones about a broken oath or two to-day than they +made about forging the Ems telegram. They are an unpleasant race,-- +the North Germans, at least--and an uncivilised--" + +"They make the most appalling noises with their soup. . . . Do you +remember that German baron at the _table d'hote_ at Genoa?" + +"The point is that, with all their thoroughness in plotting, they +have no _savoir faire_; they are educated beyond the capacity of +their breeding; and the older, lazier, civilised nations have--as the +saying is--caught the barbarian stiff. It is--as you choose to look +at it--a tragedy of tactlessness or a triumph of tact; and for our +time, anyway, the last word upon the Church of Christ--call it +Eastern or Western, Roman, Lutheran, or Anglican." + +Mrs Steele looked at her husband earnestly. "If you believe that--" + +"But I do believe it," he interrupted. + +"If you believe that," she persisted, "I can understand your +doubting, even despairing over a hundred things. . . . But below it +all I feel that you are angry with something deeper." + +"Eh?" + +"With something in yourself." + +"Yes, you're right," he answered savagely. "You shall know what it +is," said he, on the instant correcting himself to tenderness, "when +I've taken hat and stick and gone out and wrestled with it." + + +As luck would have it, on his way down the hill he encountered Mr +Hambly, and delivered his message. + +"The notion is that we form a small Emergency Committee. Here at +home, in the next few weeks or months, many things will want doing. +For the most important, we must keep an eye on the wives and families +whose breadwinners have gone off to fight; see that they get their +allotments of pay and separation allowances; and administer as wisely +as we can the relief funds that are already being started. Also the +ladies will desire, no doubt, to form working-parties, make hospital +shirts, knit socks, tear and roll lint for bandages. My wife even +suggests an ambulance class; and I have written to Mant, at St +Martin's, who may be willing to come over (say) once a week and teach +us the rudiments of 'First Aid' on the chance--a remote one, I own-- +that one of these days we may get a boat-load of wounded at Polpier. +I'll admit, too, that all these preparations may well strike you as +petty, and even futile. But they may be good, anyhow, for our own +souls' health. They will give us a sense of helping." + +Mr Hambly took off his spectacles and wiped them, for his eyes were +moist. "Do you know," said he, smiling, "that I was on my way to +visit you with a very similar proposal? . . . Now, as you are a good +thirty years younger than I, and, moreover, have been springing +downhill while I have been toiling laboriously up--" He glanced down +at his club foot. + +--"That I took duty for you and did the long-windedness," put in the +Vicar with a laugh. "And I haven't quite finished yet. The idea is +(I should add) that, as in politics, so with our religious +differences, we all declare a truce of God. In Heaven's name let us +all pull together for once and forget our separation of creeds!" + +The Minister rubbed his eyes gently; for the trouble, after all, +seemed to be with them and not with his spectacles. + +"And I ought to add," said he, "that the first suggestion of such a +Committee came from the ladies of my congregation. The only credit I +can claim is for a certain obstinacy in resisting those who would +have confined the effort to our Society. . . . Most happily I managed +to prevail--and it was none the easier because I happen just now to +be a little out of odour with some of the more influential members of +what I suppose must be termed my 'flock.'" + +"Yes: I heard that your sermon last Sunday had caused a scandal. +What was it you said? That, in a breakdown of Christianity like the +present, we might leave talk of the public-houses and usefully +consider Sunday closing of churches and chapels--or something of the +sort." + +"Was it in that form the report reached you?" the Minister asked with +entire gravity. "There is an epigrammatist abroad in Polpier, and I +have never been able to trace him--or her. But it is the truth--and +it may well have leaked out in my discourse--that I feel our services +to have lost their point and our ministrations their savour. . . . +I--I beg your pardon," he corrected himself: "I should have said +'_my_ ministrations.'" + +"Not at all. . . . Do you suppose I have not been feeling with you-- +that all our business has suddenly turned flat, stale, unprofitable?" + +"It is a natural discouragement. . . . Let us own it to none until we +have found our hearts again. I see now that even that hint of it in +my sermon was a momentary lapse of loyalty. Meanwhile I clutch on +this proposal of yours. It will give us all what we most want--a +sense of being useful." + +The Vicar stepped back a pace and eyed him. Then, on an impulse-- + +"Hambly," he said, "you have to hear Confession. I am going to tell +you something I have kept secret even from my wife. . . . I have +written to the Bishop asking his permission to volunteer for +service." + +"May God bring you safely back, my friend! If I were younger. . . . +And the Army will want chaplains." + +"But I am not offering myself as a chaplain." + +"How, then?" + +"I am asking leave to _fight_. . . . Don't stare, man; and don't +answer me until you have heard my reasons. Well, you have read your +newspaper and must have noted how, all over Britain, the bishops, +clergy, and ministers of all denominations are turning themselves +into recruiting sergeants and urging men to fight. You note how they +preach this War as a War in defence of Law, in defence of Right +against Might, a War for the cause of humanity, a War for an ideal. +In to-day's paper it has even become a War against War. . . . +Well, if all this be true, why should I as a priest be denied my +share in the crusade? Why should I be forbidden to lay down my life +in what is, to these people, so evidently my Master's service? +Why should it be admirable--nay, a fundamental of manhood--in Tom and +Dick and Harry to play the Happy Warrior life-size, but reprehensible +in _me?_ Or again, look at it in _this_ way.--You and I, as +ministers of the Gospel, have gone about preaching it (pretty +ineffectively, to be sure) for a Gospel of Peace. Well now, if these +fellows are right, it turns out that we have been wrong all the time, +and the sooner we make amends, by carrying a gun, the better. +Any way--priest or no priest--I have in me certain scruples which +deter me from telling Tom or Dick or Harry to take a gun and kill a +man, and from scolding him if he is not quick about it, while I +myself am not proposing to take the risk or earn the undying honour-- +or the guilt--whichever it may be." + +"My mind moves slowly," said the Minister after a pause, during +which the Vicar drew breath. "And often, when confronted in a hurry +with an argument which I dislike but see no present way to +controvert, I fall back for moral support on the tone of the +disputant. . . . I have a feeling at this moment that you are in the +wrong, somewhere and somehow, because you are talking like an angry +man." + +"So my wife assured me, half an hour ago. . . . Then let me put it +differently and with a sweet reasonableness. If this War be a Holy +War, why may I not share actively in it? Or on what principle, if +the military use of weapons be right for a layman, should it be wrong +for a clergyman? What differentiates us?" + +"In a vague way," said the Minister, "I see that a great deal may +differentiate you. Suppose, now, I were to ask what separates you +from a layman, that you should have a right, which you deny him, to +pronounce the Absolution. You will answer me, and in firm faith, +that by a laying-on of hands you have inherited--in direct succession +from the Apostles--a certain particular virtue. You know me well +enough by this time to be sure that, while doubting your claim, I +respect its sincerity. . . . It is a claim, at least, which has +silently endured through some hundreds of generations of men, to +reassert itself quietly, times and again, after many hundreds of +accesses of human madness. . . . I do not press the validity of my +mission, which derives what sanction it may merely from a general +spiritual tradition of the race. But yours is special, you say; by +it _you_ are consecrated, separated, reserved. Then if you are +reserved to absolve men of their sins, may you not be rightly +reserved against sharing in their combats?" + +"I am hot," the Vicar acknowledged; "and in my heat the most I can +manage is sarcasm. But I have the grace to hope that in process of +time I shall acquire the sweeter temper of irony." + +A dull thud shook the atmosphere overhead, and was followed some four +seconds later by another and louder reverberation. The two men, +startled for a moment, smiled as they collected their thoughts. +"That means security, not danger." + +"Gun-practice. We were warned of it by advertisement in this +morning's paper. A 9.4-inch gun, by the sound of it--and there goes +another! A battle-cruiser at least!--Shall we walk out to the cliffs +for a sight of her?" + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +THE THREE PILCHARDS. + +"Boo-oom!" echoed Un' Benny Rowett on the Quay, mocking the noise of +the cannonade. "War--bloody war, my hearties! There goes a hundred +pound o' taxpayers' money; an' there go all our pilchards for this +season, the most promisin' in my recollection." + +"He'll be tellin' us," suggested a humourist, "that the British Navy +is firin' on pilchards, in the hope there may be a submarine +somewhere amongst 'em." + +"I never rose to the height o' puttin' myself into the enemy's mind," +retorted Un' Benny; "which they tell me, in the newspapers, is the +greatest art o' warfare. I be a modest man, content with +understandin' pilchards; and if you'd ever taken that trouble, Zack +Mennear--Boo-oom! there it goes again!--you'd know that, soon as they +hear gunfire, or feel it--for their senses don't tally with mine, or +even with yours--plumb deep the fish sink. Th' Old Doctor used to +preach that, when sunk, they headed back for Americy; but seein' as +they sunk, and out o' reach o' net, I never could see the matter was +worth pursooin'. The point is, you an' me'll find ourselves poorer +men by Christmas. And that's War, and it hits us men o' peace both +ways. Boo-oom!--plunk goes one hundred pounds o' money to the bottom +o' the sea; an' close after it goes the fish! You may take my word-- +'tis first throwin' away the helve and then the hatchet. I could +never see any sense in War, for my part; an' I remember bein' very +much impressed, back at the bye-election, by a little man who came +down uninvited in a check ulster and a straw hat. The Liberal +Committee disowned him, and he was afterwards taken up an' give three +months at Quarter Sessions for payin' his board an' lodgin' somewhere +with a fancy cheque. But he was most impressive, even convincing +while he lasted; and I remember to this day what he told us about the +South African War. 'That War, my friends,' he said, 'has cost us, +first an' last, two hundred an' fifty millions of money--and 'oo +_paid_ for it? You an' me.' Boo-oom! once more! That's the way the +money goes,--an', more by token, here comes Pamphlett to know what +the row's about, an' with the loose cash, I'se wage, fairly skipping +in his trouser-pockets." + +Sure enough, Mr Pamphlett, as the cannonade shook the plate-glass +windows of his bank, had started up in some alarm, and was sallying +forth to seek reassurance. For again the inner sheet of the +newspaper, with its reports of the mobilisation of armies and of +embassies taking flight from various European capitals, had engaged +all his attention, and he had missed the advertisement columns. + +On his way to ask news of the group of fishermen at the Quay-head he +hurried--and almost without observing him--past Nicky-Nan; who +likewise had hobbled forth to discover the meaning of the uproar, +and, having discovered it, had retired to seat himself on the bollard +outside the "Three Pilchards" and nurse his leg. "What's this firing +about?" asked Mr Pamphlett, arriving in a high state of perspiration. +"I--I gather, from the cool way you men are taking it, that there's +no cause for alarm?" + +Now Un' Benny, who found it hard as a rule to bear ill-will toward +any living creature, very cordially disliked Mr Pamphlett--as indeed +did most of the men on the Quay. But whereas the dislike of +nine-tenths of Polpier was helpless as the toad's resentment of the +harrow--since the banker held the strings of sundry Fishing +Companies, and was a hard taskmaster--Un' Benny, with a few chosen +kinsmen, had preserved his independence. + +"The kings o' the earth rise up together, sir," answered Un' Benny +very deliberately; "an' by consikence the little fishes take hidin'. +'Tis a poor look-out for our callin'--a wisht poor job altogether! +Fishers and apostles always stood in together, an' War's the +ruination o' both. What with the Gospel gone scat, an' no dividends +this side o' Christmas--" + +"I asked you," interrupted Mr Pamphlett, "what that firing means, out +there? It's friendly, of course? A British battleship?" + +"As to that," replied Un' Benny, slowly ruminating, "I wouldn' call +it _friendly_ in any man to let off a big-inch gun at anything. +That's not the word I'd choose. And I don't grant 'ee that there's +no danger because we men, as you call us"--here Un' Benny distributed +the emphasis delicately--"happen to be takin' it cool. But if you +ask my opinion, she's a first-class cruiser; an' you hit it off when +you asked, 'What's this firin' about?' 'Firin' about,' that's _of_ +it, as I reckon; and aboard of her, belike, the boys that left us o' +Sunday, takin' a little practice to get their hands in. But there! +A guess is a guess; and if you're anxious about it, and'll step into +my boat, sir, we'll put out and make sure." + +Mr Pamphlett ignored this proposal. He turned on the other men. +"It's a fine day, anyhow," he said; "and the wind turning +nor'-westerly. If sure she's only a cruiser at practice, why are you +fellows loafing in harbour?" + +"As for _that_"--Un' Benny intercepted the question blandly--"they +can answer for their-selves, them that's under obligation to 'ee. +But you started on _me_, an' so I'll be polite an' lead off. +In th' first place, with all this tow-row, the fish be all gone to +bottom; there's not one'll take hook by day nor net by night. +An' next, with a parcel o' reservists pickin' up the gunnery they've +forgot, for a week or so the firin' is apt to be flippant. Yes, Mr +Pamphlett, you can go back to your business an' feel all the easier +in mind every time a bangin' great shell makes ye bob up an' down in +your chair. 'Tis a fine thing to stand here an' feel we've a Navy +protectin' us all; but don't send these poor fellows out to be +protected _too near_." Un' Benny's eyes twinkled a moment. "It does +'em good, too, to take a rest now an' then, an' smoke a pipe, an' +praise the Lord that made 'em Englishmen." + +Mr Pamphlett detested Un' Benny's conversation. It always struck him +as significantly meaningless. Again he addressed himself to the +other men. + +"What Rowett says about the fish is true enough, I dare say. +When they hear all this noise--" + +But Un' Benny took him up, blandly as before. "There's a man, down +to Mevegissey," he said, "that holds 'tis no question of hearin', or +of what you and I do call hearin'. Accordin' to him the fish have a +sixth sense, denied to ordinary Christians--" + +"I don't want to hear what this or that fool says at Mevegissey--" + +"He's a County Councillor," murmured Un' Benny. "But, to be sure, it +don't follow." + +"What _I_ say," pursued Mr Pamphlett, shaking a forefinger at the +group, "is that Rowett may be his own master, but the rest of you +mustn't take it into your heads that because our country happens to +be at war you've an excuse to be idle. 'Business as usual'--that's +my motto: and I doubt if Rowett here will find you a better-paying +one, however long you listen to him." On secure ground now, Mr +Pamphlett faced about, challenging the old man. + +"Heigh?" said Un' Benny with a well-affected start of surprise. +"There now!--and I was allowin' you'd had enough o' my chatter. +'Business as usual'"--he looked closely at Mr Pamphlett, and so let +his gaze travel down the street, till it rested meditatively on the +Bank doorway. "'Business as usual' . . . aye to be sure! +Well, well!" + +There was nothing in this upon which Mr Pamphlett could retort. +So, after wagging his forefinger again at the group of men, he turned +and left them. + +On his way back he came face to face with Nicky-Nan, still solitary +and seated on his bollard; and pulled up before him. + +"Oh, by the way, Nanjivell!--I hope you understand that the ejectment +order still holds, and that I can take possession of the premises at +any time?" + +"That's as may be," answered Nicky-Nan slowly. "You tell me so, and +I hear you." + +"I tell you so, and it's the law. . . . But I've no wish to be hard, +even after the trouble you've given me; and moreover this War may-- +er--tend to interpose some delay in one or two small matters I +was--er--projecting. 'Business as usual' is, and has been--as I have +just been telling those fellows yonder--my motto since the early days +of the crisis "--Mr Pamphlett could not accurately remember when he +had first come upon that headline in his newspaper--"'Business as +usual,' but with--er--modifications, of course. As I remember, I +told you yesterday that, if you behave yourself, I may relent so far +as to give you a short grace." + +"Thank 'ee," said Nicky-Nan. "I'm behavin' myself--that's to say, so +far as I know." + +"But I want to make one or two points very clear to you. In the +first place, what I'm about to say is strictly without prejudice?" +Mr Pamphlett paused, upon a note of interrogation. + +"I don't rightly know what that means. But no matter: since you're +sayin' it and I'm not." + +"Secondly, if I give you yet a few weeks' grace, it is on condition +that you bring me your rent regularly from this time forward." + +"Go on." + +"Thirdly, you are to understand plainly that, as I have the power and +the right, so I shall use my own convenience, in ordering you to +quit. Happen this War will last a long time." + +"Then 'tis an ill wind that blows good to nobody." + +"Happen it may be a short one. Or again, even if it lasts, I may +change my mind and decide to start work on the premises at once. +There may be a depression in the building trade, for example, and +even putting in hand a small job like that would help to restore +public confidence." + +"You may give any dam reason you please to yourself," said Nicky-Nan +uncompromisingly, "so long as you don't start palmin' it 'pon me. +I paid Hendy the costs o' the order this morning--which is not to say +that I promise 'ee to act on it. Whatever your reason may be, the +point is you don't propose turnin' me out till further notice--hey?" + +"Provided your rent is duly paid up to date." + +"Right." Nicky-Nan slid a hand into his trouser-pocket, where his +fingers met the reassuring touch of half-a-dozen sovereigns he +carried there for earnest of his good fortune. + +"And on the understanding that I claim possession whenever it suits +me. When I say 'the understanding,' of course, there's no bargain +implied. I am in a position to do as I like at any time. I want to +make that clear." + +"Very thoughtful of you." + +"Well, I'm glad you're grateful." + +"Who said so?" + +"At least," answered Mr Pamphlett with rising choler, "you must own +that I have shown you great consideration--great consideration _and_ +forbearance." He checked his wrath, being a man who had severely +trained himself to keep his temper in any discussion touching +business. To the observance of this simple rule, indeed, he owed +half his success in life. (During the operation of getting the +better of a fellow-man, it was wellnigh impossible to ruffle Mr +Pamphlett.) "I'll leave you to think it over." + +"Thank 'ee," said Nicky-Nan as the banker walked away; and sat on in +the August sunshine, the potable gold of which harmonised with the +tangible gold in his pockets, but so that he, being able to pay the +piper, felt himself in command of the tune. He had ballasted both +pockets with coins. It gave him a wonderful sense of stability, on +the strength of which he had been able to talk with Mr Pamphlett as +one man should with another. And lo! he had prevailed. Obedient to +some subtle sense, Pamphlett had lowered his usual domineering tone, +and was climbing down under the bluff he yet maintained. . . . +Nicky-Nan was not grateful: but already he felt inclined to make +allowance for the fellow. What a mastery money gave! + +A voice hailed him from the doorway of the Three Pilchards. + +"Mornin', Nicky!" + +Nicky-Nan slewed himself about on the bollard, and encountered the +genial gaze of Mr Latter, the landlord. Mr Latter, a retired Petty +Officer of the Navy, stood six feet two inches in his socks, and +carried a stomach which incommoded even that unusual stature. +The entrance-door of the Three Pilchards being constructed in two +flaps, Mr Latter habitually closed the lower one and eased the upper +part of his facade upon it while he surveyed the world. + +"Mornin', Nicky!" repeated Mr Latter. "I han't seen ye this couple +o' days; but I had word you weren't gone with the rest, your leg +bein' so bad. Step indoors, an' rest it over a drink." + +"You're very kind, Mr Latter," Nicky-Nan answered somewhat stiffly. +"I was just then thinkin' I'd come in and order one for the good o' +the house." To himself he added: "One o' these days I'll teach +that man to speak to me as 'Mr Nanjivell'--though it come to +remindin' him that his wife's mother was my father's wet-nurse, and +glad of the job." But this he growled to himself as he hobbled up +the steps to the door. + +"I didn't say anything about payment," Mr Latter remarked affably, +stepping back a pace as he pulled open the flap of the door, and +politely suppressing a groan at the removal of that abdominal +support. "I was askin' you to oblige me by takin' a drink, seein' as +how--" + +"Seein' as how _what?_" Nicky-Nan asked with suppressed fierceness as +he pushed his way in, conscious of the ballast in his pocket. + +(Wonderful--let it be said again--is the confidence that money +carries: subtle and potent the ways by which it asserts itself upon +the minds of men!) + +--"Seein' as how," Mr Latter corrected himself, drawing back again +and giving such room in the passage as his waist allowed--"seein' as +how all true patriots should have a fellow-feelin' in times like the +present, an' stand shoulder to shoulder, so to speak, not refusin' a +drink when offered in a friendly way. It gives a feelin' of +solidarity, as one might say. That's the word--solidarity. +Still, if you insist," he paused, following Nicky-Nan into the little +bar-parlour, "I mustn't say no. The law don't allow me. A two of +beer, if I may suggest?" + +"Brandy for me!" said Nicky-Nan recklessly. "And a soda." + +"Brandy for heroes, as the sayin' is. Which, if Three Star, is +sixpence, an' two is a shilling, and a split soda makes one-an'-four. +'Tis a grand beverage, but terrible costly." Mr Latter took down the +bottle from its shelf and uncorked it, still with an incredulous eye +on Nicky-Nan. "What with the War breakin' out an' takin' away the +visitors, an' money certain (as they tell me) to be scarce all over +the land, I didn' reckon to sell another glass between this an' +Christmas; when in walks you, large as my lord, and calls for a +brace! . . . Sure ye mean it?" + +"I never insisted 'pon _your_ choosin' brandy," said Nicky-Nan, +beginning to fumble in his left trouser-pocket. "You can make it +beer if you wish, but _I_ said 'brandy.' If you have no--" +He ended on a sharp outcry, as of physical pain. + +For a dire accident had happened. The men of Polpier (as this +narrative may or may not have mentioned)--that is to say, all who are +connected with the fishery--in obedience to a customary law, +unwritten but stringent, clothe the upper part of their persons in +blue guernsey smocks. These being pocketless, all personal cargo has +to be stowed somewhere below the belt. (In Mrs Pengelly's shop you +may purchase trousers that have as many as four pockets. They cost +anything from eleven-and-sixpence to fifteen shillings, and you ask +Mrs Pengelly for them under the categorical name of "non-plush +unmentionables"--"non-plush" being short for _Non Plus Ultra_.) + +Nicky-Nan, then, plunging a hand into his left trouser-pocket in +search of a florin which he believed to lie there amidst the costlier +cargo, and confident that by its size and his sense of touch he could +separate it from the gold, found that he must first remove his +pocket-handkerchief. As he drew it forth, alas! two golden +sovereigns followed in its fold, fell, and jingled on the slate-paved +floor. Not all the fresh sawdust strewn there could deaden the merry +sound of wealth. The two coins ran trickling, the one to clash +against a brass spittoon, the other to take hiding in a dark corner +under the counter. "You might," said Mr Latter that evening, +relating the occurrence to a circle of steady customers, "have +knocked me down with a feather. To see old Nicky, of all men, +standin' there before my very eyes an' sheddin' gold like a +cornopean!" + +What Mr Latter did at the moment, or as soon as he recovered his +presence of mind, was to set down his bottle and dive under the +counter; while Nicky-Nan chased the coin which had ricochetted off +the spittoon and lodged against the wainscot. Their physical +infirmities made the pursuit painful for both, as the darkness in a +small room overcrowded with furniture made it difficult. Mr Latter +emerged panting, in audible bodily distress. His search had been +longer than Nicky-Nan's, but it was successful. He straightened +himself up and held out the coin to the light. + +"A sovereign! . . . I'll have to go out an' fetch change. +A sovereign, send I may never!" He rang it on the bar-counter. +"I'll step along an' get change from the Bank." + +"There's no hurry," stammered Nicky-Nan hastily and in confusion. +"Let's have the drink, an' maybe I can fish out something smaller. + . . . You keep your parlour very dark," he added, repocketing both +coins. + +"I reckon now," observed Mr Latter thoughtfully as he measured out +the two tots of brandy, "that 'taty-patch o' your'n has been a +perfect gold-mine this season. Everyone tells me how agriculture is +lookin' up." + +Nicky-Nan sought refuge in a falsehood. + +"'Tis my rent," said he, "that I've been savin' up for Pamphlett. +Didn' you see him stop an' speak wi' me five minutes since? +Well, that was to make an appointment an' give me the receipt. +Between you an' me, I've been gettin' a bit to leeward with it +lately." + +"Ay," said Mr Latter, opening the soda-water and pouring it. +"Everybody in the parish knows _that_. . . . Well, things are +lookin' up, seemingly, and I congratulate 'ee. Here's Success to +Agriculture! . . . Brandy for heroes! 'Tis a curious thing, how +this partic'lar drink goes straight to the heart an' kindles it. +Champagne has the same effect, only more so. A glass o' champagne +will keep kickin' inside o' ye for an hour maybe. With brandy 'tis +soon over and you want another go. I've noticed that often." + +"You won't have a chance to notice it today." Nicky-Nan drained his +glass at a gulp, and searched again in his pockets. . . . + + +"And if you'll believe me," reported Mr Latter to a wondering +audience that evening, "the man pulled out of his pocket--his _right_ +pocket, this time--a two-shillin' piece and a penny; and as he picks +out the two-shillin' piece, to pay me, what happens but he lets drop +another sovereign, that had got caught between the two! It pitched +under the flap o' the counter an' rolled right to my boot! 'What did +I say to en?' Well, I don't mind ownin' that for a moment it took me +full aback an' tied the string o' my tongue. But as I picked it up +and handed it to en, I says, says I, 'Mr Nanjivell,' I says, 'at this +rate I don't wonder your not joinin'-up wi' the Reserve.' . . . +What's more, naybours, I don't mind admittin' to you that after the +man had paid an' left, I slipped to the door an' keeked out after +him--an' that story of his about it bein' his rent-money was all a +flam. He went past Pamphlett's Bank, never so much as turnin' to +look at it." + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +FIRST ATTEMPT AT HIDING. + +Nicky-Nan belonged, congenitally and unconsciously, to that happy +brotherhood of men--_felices sua si bona norint_--whom a little +liquor exhilarates, but even a great deal has no power to bemuse. +But what avails an immunity above your fellows, if life seldom or +never gives you opportunity to prove it? + +Nicky-Nan had drunk, after long abstinence and upon a fasting +stomach, one brandy-and-soda. He was sober as a judge; he walked +straight and--bating his weak leg--firmly, yet he trod on air: he +looked neither to the right nor to the left, yet he saw nothing of +the familiar street through which he steered. For a vision danced +ahead of him. Gold in his pockets, golden sunshine now in his +veins--thanks to the brandy-and-soda,--a golden vision weaving itself +and flickering in the golden August weather, and in his ears a +sentence running, chiming, striking upon the word "gold"-- +"Ding-a-ding-a-dong! 'Taty-patch a _gold_ mine--'taty-patch a _gold_ +mine!" The prosaic Mr Latter had set the chime ringing, as a dull +sacristan might unloose the music of a belfry; but like a chime of +faery it rippled and trilled, closing ever upon the deep note "gold," +and echoed back as from a veritable gong of that metal. + +"'Taty-patch a gold mine"--How came it that, until Latter put the +idea into his head, he had never thought of this, his one firm +holding on earth, as a hiding-place for his treasure? His lodging in +the old house, hard as he would fight for it, acknowledged another +man's will. But the patch of ground by the cliff was his own. +He had claimed its virginity, chosen and tamed it, marked it off, +fenced it about, broken the soil, trenched it, wrought it, taught the +barren to bear. It lay remote, approachable only by a narrow +cliff-track, overlooked by no human dwelling, doubly concealed--by a +small twist of the coast-line and a dip of the ground--from the +telescopes of the coastguard in their watch-house. Folks had hinted +from time to time (but always chaffing him) that the land must +belong to _some one_--to the Crown, maybe, or, more likely, to the +Duchy. But he had tilled it for years undisturbed and unchallenged. +The parcel had come to be known as "Nicky-Nan's Chapel," because on +fine Sundays, when godlier folks were in church, he spent so much of +his time there, smoking and watching the Channel and thinking his +thoughts. It was inconceivable that any one should dispute his title +now, after the hundreds and hundreds of maundfuls of seaweed under +which, first and last--in his later years--he had staggered up the +path from the Cove, to incorporate them in the soil. + +At the turn of the street he fetched up standing, arrested by another +bright idea. Why, of course! He would carry up a part of his wealth +to the 'taty-patch and bury it. . . . But a man shouldn't put all his +eggs in one basket, and--_why_ hadn't he thought of it before? +The money had lain those many years, safe and unsuspected, under the +false floor of the cupboard. Simplest thing in the world, now that +Pamphlett had given him a respite, to plank up the place again with a +couple of new boards, plaster up the ceiling of the sitting-room, and +restore a good part of the gold to its hiding!--not all of it, +though; since Pamphlett might change his mind at any time, and of a +sudden. No, a good part of the gold must be conveyed to the +'taty-patch. He would make a start, maybe, that very night--or +rather, that very evening in the dusk when the moon rose: for (now he +came to remember) the moon would be at her full to-morrow, or next +day. While the dusk lasted he could dig, up there, and no passer-by +would suspect him of any intent beyond eking out the last glimpse of +day. To be surprised in the act of digging by moonlight was another +matter, and might start an evil rumour. For one thing, it was held +uncanny, in Polpier, to turn the soil by moonlight--a deed never done +save by witches or persons in league with Satan. Albeit they may not +own to it, two-thirds of the inhabitants of Polpier believe in black +magic. + +He would make a start, then, towards dusk. There was no occasion to +take any great load at one time, or even to be seen with any +conspicuous burden. As much gold as his two pockets would carry-- +that would serve for a start. To-morrow he might venture to visit +Mrs Pengelly and purchase a new and more capacious pair of trousers-- +to-morrow, or perhaps the day after. Caution was necessary. He had +already astonished Mr Gedye, the ironmonger, with his affluence: and +just now again, like a fool, he had been dropping sovereigns about +Latter's bar-parlour. That had been an awkward moment. He had +extricated himself with no little skill, but it was a warning to be +careful against multiplying evidence or letting it multiply. A new +pair of trousers, as this narrative has already hinted, is always a +somewhat dazzling adventure in Polpier. No. . . . decidedly he had +better postpone _that_ investment. Just now he would step around to +boatbuilder Jago's and borrow or purchase a short length of +eight-inch planking to repair the flooring of the bedroom cupboard. +Jago had a plenty of such odd lengths to be had for the asking. +"I'll make out the top of the water-butt wants mending," said +Nicky-Nan to himself. "Lord! what foolishness folk talk about the +contrivances of poverty. Here have I been living in fear and +tremblement over a dozen things never likely to befall, and all +because my brain has been starving for years, along with my stomach. +Start the pump with a dose of brandy, and it rewards ye by working +sweet and suent. Here at this moment be a dozen things possible and +easy, that two hours agone were worrying me to the grave. Now I know +how rich men thrive, and I'll use the secret. Simplicity itself it +is: for set me on the Lord Mayor's throne and fill me with expensive +meat and drink, and I'll be bold to command the Powers o' Darkness." + +This was fine talking. But he had not freed himself from the tremors +of wealth: and now again-- + + Can such things be, + And overcome us like a summer cloud, + Without our special wonder? + +--now and again and for about the twentieth time--now again, as he +turned to bend his steps towards Boatbuilder Jago's yard--suddenly +and without warning, as a wave the terror took him that in his +absence some thief or spy had surprised his hoard. Under its urgency +he wheeled right-about and hurried for home, to assure himself that +all was safe. + +Such was his haste that in passing the corner of the bridge he +scarcely observed a knot of children gathered thereby, until 'Beida's +voice hailed him and brought him to a halt. + +"Mr Nanjivell!" + +"Hey! Is that you, Missy?" Nicky-Nan wheeled half-about. + +"If you had eyes in your head, you wouldn' be starin' at me," said +'Beida, "but at 'Bert. Look at him--And you, 'Biades, can stand +there an' look up at him so long as you like, provided you don't bust +out cryin' at his altered appearance: no, nor crick your neck in +doin' it, but bear in mind that mother used up the last of the arnica +when you did it last time tryin' to count the buttons up Policeman +Rat-it-all's uniform, an' that if the wind should shift of a sudden +and catch you with your eyes bulgin' out of your head like they'm +doin' at this moment, happen 'twill fix you up comical for life: an' +then instead of your growin' up apprenticed to a butcher, as has been +your constant dream, we'll have to put you into a travellin' show for +a gogglin' May-game, an' that's where your heart will be turnin' +ever, far from the Old Folks at Home. . . . You'll excuse me, Mr +Nanjivell, but the time an' trouble it costs to wean that child's +eyes off anything in the shape of a novelty you'd hardly believe. + . . . Well, what do you say to 'Bert?" + +"I'd say," answered Nicky-Nan slowly, contemplating the boy--who wore +a slouch hat, a brown shirt with a loosely tied neckerchief, +dark-blue cut-shorts and stockings that exhibited some three inches +of bare knee--"I'd say, if he came on me sudden, that he was Buffalo +Bill or else Baden Powell, or else the pair rolled into one." + +"You wouldn't be far wrong either. He's a Boy Scout, that's what he +is. Walked over to St Martin's this mornin' an' joined up. A kind +lady over there was so took with his appearance that she had to +improve it or die on the spot, out of her own pocket. He's walked +back with his own trousers in a parcel, lookin'--well, like what you +see. _I_ think it becomin', on the whole. He tells me his motto is +'Be British,' an' he has to do a kind action every day of his life: +which he won't find easy, in a little place like Polpier." + +As 'Beida drew breath, the boy faced Nicky-Nan half sulkily. + +"They put me into this outfit. I didn't _ask_ for it." + +"If you want my opinion, 'Bert," said Nicky-Nan, "it suits 'ee very +well; an' you look two inches taller in it already." + + +He hurried on in the direction of Boatbuilder Jago's yard, which +stands close above the foreshore, on the eastern side of the little +haven. When he returned, with the boards under his arm, it was to +find 'Bert the centre of a knot of boys, all envious--though two or +three were making brave attempts to hide it under a fire of jocose +criticism. It was plain, however, that morally 'Bert held the upper +hand. Whilst they had been playing silly games around the Quay, he +had walked to St Martin's and done the real thing. No amount of +chaff could hide that his had been the glory of the initiative. +Indeed, he showed less of annoyance with his critics than of boredom +with 'Biades, who, whichever way his big brother turned, revolved +punctually as a satellite, never relaxing his rapt, upward gaze of +idolatry. + +"You can shut your heads, the whole lot," said 'Bert airily. "First +thing to-morrow mornin' the half of 'ee'll be startin' over for +St Martin's to enlist; an' you know it. Better fit you went off home +and asked your dear mammies to put 'ee to bed early. Because there's +not only the walk to St Martin's an' back--which is six mile--but +when you've passed the doctor for bandy legs or weak eyesight, you +may be started on duty that very night. I ben't allowed to say more +just now," he added with a fine air of official reticence. "And as +for _you_"--he turned impatiently on 'Biades--"I wish you'd find your +sister, to fetch an' shut 'ee away somewhere. Where's 'Beida _to?_" + +"She's breakin' the news to mother," answered 'Biades. + + +By seven o'clock Nicky-Nan had measured and cut his boards to size. +He fitted them loosely to floor the bedroom cupboard. Later on he +would fix them securely in place with screws. But by this time +daylight was dusking in, and more urgent business called him. + +Returning to the parlour downstairs, he refilled his pockets with the +gold of which he had lightened himself for his carpentry, knotted +another twenty sovereigns tightly in his handkerchief, picked up the +lighter of his two spades--for some months he had eschewed the +heavier--and took his way through the streets, up the cliff-track by +the warren, and so past the coastguard watch-house. + +The sun had dropped behind the hill, leaving the West one haze of +gold: but southward and seaward this gold grew fainter and fainter, +paling into an afterglow of the most delicate blue-amber. In the +scarce-canny light, as he rounded the corner of the cliff, he +perceived two small figures standing above the hollow which ran down +funnel-wise containing his patch, and recognised them. + +"Drat them children!" he muttered; but kept on his way, and, drawing +near, demanded to know what business brought them so far from home at +such an hour. + +"I might ask you the same question," retorted 'Beida. "Funny time,-- +isn't it?--to start diggin' potatoes? An' before now I've always +notice you use a visgy for the job. Yet you can't be _plantin_--not +at this season--" + +"I find the light spade handier to carry," explained Nicky-Nan in +some haste. "But you haven't answered my question." + +"Well, if you _must_ know, I'm kissin' goodnight to 'Bert here. +They've started him upon coast-watchin', and he's given this beat +till ten-thirty, from the watch-house half-way to the Cove. +I shouldn' wonder if he broke his neck." + +"No fear," put in 'Bert, proudly exhibiting and flashing a cheap +electric torch. "They gave me this at St Martin's--and in less than +an hour the moon'll be up." + +"But the paper says there be so many spies about--eh, Mr Nanjivell?" + +"Damme," groaned Nicky-Nan, "I should think there were! Well, if +there's military work afoot, at this rate, I'd better clear. +--Unless 'Bert would like me to stay here an' chat with 'en for +company." + +"We ben't allowed to talk--not when on duty," declared young 'Bert +stoutly. + +"Then kiss your brother, Missy, an' we'll trundle-ways home." + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +FIRST AID. + +"I hope, Mary-Martha," said Miss Oliver, pausing half-way up the hill +and panting, "that, whatever happens, you will take a proper stand." + +"You are short of breath. You should take more exercise." Mrs +Polsue eyed her severely. "When an unmarried woman gets to your time +of life, she's apt to think that everything can be got over with +Fruit Salts and an occasional dose of Somebody's Emulsion. +Whereas it can't. I take a mile walk up the valley and back every +day of my life." + +"I don't believe you could perspire if you tried, Mary-Martha." + +"Well, and _you_ needn't make a merit of it, . . . and if you ask +_me_," pursued Mrs Polsue, "one half of your palpitation is put on. +You're nervous what show you'll make in the drawing-room, and that's +why you're dilly-dallyin' with your questions and stoppages." + +"Mrs Steele and me not being on visiting terms--" Miss Oliver +started to explain pathetically. "Yes, I know it was my _duty_ to +call when they first came: but what with one thing and another, and +not knowing how she might take it--Of course, Mary-Martha, if you +insist on walking ahead like a band-major, I can't prevent it. +But it only shows a ruck in your left stocking." + +Mrs Polsue turned about in the road. "You were hoping, you said, +that I'd be taking a proper stand? If that woman comes any airs over +me--" + +She walked on without finishing the sentence. "She's every bit as +much afraid as I am," said Miss Oliver to herself, as she panted to +catch up; "the difference being that I want to put it off and she's +dying to get it over." Aloud she remarked, "Well, and that's all I +was saying. As like as not they'll be trying to come it over us; and +if we leave it to Hambly--" + +"_Him?_" Mrs Polsue sniffed. "You leave it to me!" + + +The Vicar welcomed them in the porch, and his pleasantly courteous +smile, which took their friendliness for granted, disarmed Mrs Polsue +for a moment. "It took the starch out of you straight: I couldn't +help noticin'," was Miss Oliver's comment, later in the day. +"It took me by surprise," Mrs Polsue corrected her: "--a man has no +business to stand grimacing in his own doorway like a--a--" +"Butler," suggested Miss Oliver, "--like a figure in a +weather-house. What do _you_ know about butlers? . . . but"--after a +pause--"I daresay you're right, there. I've heard it put about that +her father used to keep one; and quite likely, now you mention it, +she stuck her husband in the doorway to hide the come-down." +"The pot-plants were lovely," Miss Oliver sighed; "they made me feel +for the moment like Eve in the Garden of Eden." "Then I'm thankful +you didn't behave like it. _I_ was stiff enough by time we reached +the drawing-room." + + +"Stiff" indeed but faintly describes Mrs Polsue's demeanour in the +drawing-room; where, within a few minutes, were gathered Mrs +Pamphlett, Mr Hambly, Dr Mant (who had obligingly motored over from +St Martin's), five or six farm wives, with a husband or two (notably +Farmer Best of Tresunger, an immense man who, apparently mistaking +the occasion for a wedding, had indued a pair of white cotton gloves, +which he declined to remove, ignoring his wife's nudges). Four or +five timid "women-workers," with our two ladies and the host and +hostess, completed the gathering. + +Mrs Steele opened the business amid an oppressive silence, against +which all the Vicar's easy chat had contended in vain. + +"I hope," she began nervously, "that at such a time none of you will +object to my using the word I want to use, and calling you 'friends'? +. . . My friends, then--It was at my husband's suggestion that I +invited you to meet this afternoon--because, you know, _somebody_ +must make a beginning." + +"Hear, hear," put in Dr Mant encouragingly. Mrs Steele's voice grew +a little firmer. "We thought, too, that the Vicarage might be the +most convenient place on the whole. It is a sharp walk up the hill +for those of you who live in Polpier itself: but our stables being +empty, the farmers, who come from farther and just now at greater +sacrifice, escape a jolting drive down into the village and back." + +"Hear, hear," repeated Dr Mant. He was thinking of the tyres of his +car. But this time he overdid it, and fetched up Mrs Polsue as by a +galvanic shock. + +"If interruptions are to be the order of the day," said Mrs Polsue, +"I'd like to enter my protest at once. I don't hold, for my part, +with calling public meetings--for I suppose this _is_ a public +meeting?" she asked, breaking off, with a challenging eye on the +Vicar. + +"By no means," he answered with quick good-humour. "It's a meeting +by invitation, though--as my wife was about to explain--the +invitations were meant to include _friends_ of all creeds and +parties." + +"It's for a public purpose, anyhow?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then I may be saying what doesn't meet with your approval, or Mrs +Steele's, or the company's: but that's just my point. I don't hold +with meetings for public business being called in a private house. +Because if things are done that you don't approve of, either you sit +mum-chance out o' politeness, or else you speak your mind and offend +your host and hostess." + +Mr Hambly was about to interpose, but the Vicar checked him with a +quick movement of his hand. + +"Mrs Polsue's is a real point; and, if she will allow me to say so, +she has put it very well. Indeed, I was going to propose, later on, +that we hold our future meetings in a place to be agreed on. This is +just a preliminary talk; and when a dozen people meet to discuss, +it's handier as a rule to have some one in the chair. . . . +You agree? . . . Then for form's sake, I propose that we elect a +chairman." + +"And I propose Mrs Steele," added Mr Hambly. + +"Seconded," said Farmer Best. "Damn it!" + +"William!" his spouse ejaculated. (She knew that he detested Mrs +Polsue, whom he had once described in private as "the p'isenest +'ooman that ever licked verdigris off a farthing.") + +"'Tis all right, Chrisjana," he responded in a muffled voice, with +head abased as nearly between his calves as a protuberant stomach +allowed. "But one o' the castors o' this here chair has given way. + . . . Beggin' your pardon, ma'am,"--he raised a face half-apoplectic +but cheerful, and turned it upon his hostess--"but I totalled up +seventeen score when last weighed. There's no damage done that can't +be set right with a screw-driver afore I go." Then, with another +turn-about that embraced the company, "Proposed an' seconded that Mrs +Steele do take the chair. Those in favour say 'Hi!'--the contrary +'No.' . . . The Hi's 'ave it." (Farmer Best was Vice-Chairman of the +Board of Guardians, and knew how to conduct public business.) + +Mrs Steele resumed her little speech. A pink spot showed upon either +cheek, but she spoke bravely. + +"I suppose the first thing to be done is to see, as tactfully as we +can, that during these first few weeks at any rate the wives and +families of the men who have gone away to fight for us suffer no +want. There are other ways in which we can be useful--And I take it +for granted that all of us women, who cannot fight, are longing to be +useful in some way or other. . . . There is the working of socks, +scarves, waistcoats, for instance; the tearing and rolling of +bandages; and Dr Mant, who has so kindly driven over from St +Martin's, tells me that he is ready to be kinder still and teach an +Ambulance Class. . . . But our first business--as he and Mr Hambly +agree--is to make sure that the wives and children of our reservists +want neither food nor money to pay their rent. . . . They tell me +that in a few weeks the Soldiers' and Sailors' Families Association +will be ready to take much of this work off our hands, though acting +through local distributors. Indeed, the Vicar--indeed, my husband +has already received a letter from the District Secretary of the +Association asking him to undertake this work. In time, too, no +doubt--as Government makes better provision--that work will grow less +and less. But we have not even arrived at it yet. Until it is set +going these poor women and children may be short of money or the food +that money buys. So the proposal is to raise a few pounds, form a +War Emergency Committee, and tide matters over until a higher +authority supersedes us. For in the interval a neighbour may be +starving because her husband has gone off to fight for his country. +None of us, surely, could bear the thought of that?" + +Mrs Steele's voice had gathered confidence, with something of real +emotion, as it went on; and an approving murmur acknowledged her +little speech. Her husband, whose eyes had kindled towards the +close, was in the act of throwing her an applausive glance when Mrs +Polsue's voice cut the silence sharply. + +"I don't understand this talk about a Soldiers' and Sailors' +Association, or whatever you call it. Are we a part of it, here in +this room?" + +"Oh, no," the Vicar answered. "We are here merely to discuss forming +an Emergency Committee, to provide (among other things) present +relief until the Soldiers' and Sailors' Families Association-- +dreadful name!--until the S.S.F.A., as we'll call it, is ready to +take over the work." + +"And then we shall be cold-shouldered out, I suppose?" + +"Dang it, ma'am!" put in Farmer Best. "What matter who does the +work, so long as the poor critters be fed meantime?" + +[Here we should observe that while Mrs Polsue had a trick of sniffing +that suggested a chronic cold in the head, Farmer Best suffered from +an equally chronic obstruction of the respiratory organs, or (as he +preferred to call them) his pipes. As from time to time he essayed +to clear one or another of these, the resultant noise, always +explosive, resembled the snort of a bullock or the _klock_ of a +strangulated suction-pump. With these interjections Mrs Polsue on +the one hand, Farmer Best on the other, punctuated the following +dialogue. And this embarrassed the company, which, obliged in +politeness to attribute them to purely physical causes, could not but +own inwardly that they _might_ be mistaken for the comments--and +highly expressive ones--of mutual disapprobation.] + +"Danging it don't answer my question--nor banging it," persisted Mrs +Polsue. "I want to know more about this Association, and where _we_ +come in. . . . Just now, Mrs Steele was talking about a District +Secretary and local distributors--which looks to me as if the whole +business was cut-and-dried." + +"There's nothing cut an' dried about _me_, ma'am." Farmer Best's +sharp little eyes twinkled, and he chuckled obesely. + +"Again Mrs Polsue has the right of it," answered the Vicar. +"Perhaps I should have explained at the beginning that this War, +coming upon us so suddenly, has taken the S.S.F.A. somewhat at +unawares, in Cornwall at any rate. The machinery exists--in +skeleton; but there still wants the _personnel_ to work it. +In our District, for instance--" + +"District?" snapped Mrs Polsue. "What's a District?" + +The Vicar pulled a wry face. "The Districts at present correspond +with the Deaneries in the diocese." + +"O-oh, indeed? Ha!" + +"There is worse to come, Mrs Polsue." He laughed frankly. +"You asked, 'Who are the local distributors?' A present rule of the +Association--which I beg you to believe that I regret--provides for +two agents in each parish, to report and advise on cases: the Parson, +and one of the Guardians." + +"--And that's me, ma'am. _Honk!_" added Farmer Best. "I'm what +Parson called the skelliton of the machinery." He wound up with a +wink at the company, and a wheezy laugh. + +"You may titter, all of you!" Mrs Polsue glared about her. "But if +ever there was hole-and-corner sectarianism in this world--And _this_ +is what we've come to listen to!" + +"You han't done much listenin' up to now, ma'am." + +"Forgive me," Mrs Steele interposed, as Dr Mant looked at his watch. +"I don't know much about rules of the chair; but I really think you +are all out of order. We are not yet discussing the Association or +its rules, but whether or not we shall form a Committee to look after +these poor people until something better is done for them. +We in this room, at all events, belong to very different +denominations. I--I hope we meet only as Christians." + +Farmer Best slapped his thigh. "Bray-vo, ma'am! and you never spoke +a truer word." + +"I only wish to add," the Vicar persisted, "that before any outside +society works in this parish, I shall urge very strongly that the +parish nominates its agents: and that I hope to have the pleasure of +proposing Mrs Polsue and Mr Hambly. One more word--" + +"Certainly not." His wife cut him short with a sharp rap on the +table. "I can rule _you_ out of order, at all events!" + +Everybody laughed. Even Mrs Polsue was mollified. "Well, I managed +to drag the truth out at last," was her final shot, as the meeting +resolved itself into Committee and fell to business. + + +She was further placated, a few minutes later, by being elected +(on the Vicar's proposition) a member of the House-to-house Visiting +Sub-Committee. "'Twill give her," Farmer Best growled to his wife, +later, as they jogged home in the gig, "the chance of her life to +poke a nose into other folks' kitchens." + +Farmer Best--it should here be observed--with all his oddities, was +an exemplary Poor Law Guardian. He had small personal acquaintance +with Polpier itself: the steepness of the coombs in which it lay was +penible to a man of his weight: yet, albeit by hearsay, he knew the +inner workings of the small town, being interested in the +circumstances of all his neighbours, vividly charitable towards them, +and at the same time no fool in judging. Of the country-folk within +a circuit of twelve miles or more his knowledge was something +daemonic. He could recount their pedigrees, intermarriages, numbers +in family; he understood their straits, their degrees of affluence; +he could not look across a gate at a crop, or view the state of a +thatch, but his mind worked sympathetically with some neighbour's +economies. He gave away little in hard money; but his charities in +time and personal service were endless. And the countryside +respected him thoroughly: for he was eccentric in the fashion of a +true Englishman, and, with all his benevolence, you had to get up +early to take him in. + +Nor was Farmer Best the only one to doubt Mrs Polsue's fitness for +her place in the sub-committee. Mrs Steele spoke to her husband very +positively about it as he helped to water her begonia-beds in the +cool of the evening. + +"You were weak," she said, "to play up to that woman: when you know +she is odious." + +"The more reason," he answered. "If you're a Christian and find your +neighbour odious, you conciliate him." + +"Fiddlesticks!" + +"My dear Agatha--isn't that a somewhat strong expression, for you?" + +She set down her watering-pot. + +"Do you know what I _want_ to say?" she asked. "I _want_ to say, +'Go to blazes!' . . . When I said the woman is odious, do you suppose +I meant odious to me or to you?" + +"O-oh!" The Vicar rubbed the back of his head penitently. +"I am sorry, Agatha--I was thinking of the time she gave you this +afternoon." + +"She will give those poor women a worse time--a dreadful time!" said +Mrs Steele, with conviction. + +He picked up his watering-pot in such a hurry as to spill a tenth or +so of its contents into his shoes; swore under his breath; then +laughed aloud. + +"I'll bet any money they'll get upsides with her, all the same. +Lord! there may be fun!" + +His wife eyed him as he emptied the watering-pot spasmodically over +the flowers. + +"As a rule you have so much more imagination than I. . . . Yet by +fits and starts you take this business as if it were a joke. +And it _is_ War, you know." + +The Vicar turned away hurriedly, to fetch more water. + +On the Sub-Committee for House to house Visiting--the Relief +Committee, as it came to be called--were elected: + +(1) For Polpier--Mrs Polsue, Miss Alma Trudgian (in Mrs Polsue's +words, "a pitiful Ritualist, but well-meaning. _She'll_ give no +trouble"), the Vicar, and Mr Hambly. + +(2) For the country side of the parish--Mr and Mrs Best, "with power +to add to their number." On the passing of this addendum, Farmer +Best uttered, apparently from the roof of his palate, a noise not +unlike the throb of the organ under the dome of St Paul's, and the +mysterious words, "Catch me!" + +Next was formed a Sub-Committee of Needle-Workers, to make +hospital-shirts, knit socks, &c. It included Miss Charity Oliver; +and Mrs Steele undertook to act as Secretary and send out the +notices. + +--Next, a Sub-Committee of Ways and Means, to collect subscriptions, +and also to act as Finance Committee. The Vicar, Mr Best, Mr Hambly, +with Mr Pamphlett for Honorary Treasurer. Mrs Pamphlett (a timid +lady with an irregular catch of the breath), without pledging her +husband, felt sure that under the circumstances he wouldn't mind. +Then Dr Mant unfolded a scheme of Ambulance Classes. He was one of +those careless, indolent men who can spurt invaluably on any business +which is not for their private advantage. (Everybody liked him; but +he was known to neglect his own business deplorably.) He could motor +over to Polpier and lecture every Saturday evening, starting +forthwith. Mrs Steele undertook to write to the Local Education +Authority for permission to use the Council Schoolroom. + +At this point the parlour-maid brought in the tea. + + +"I believe," remarked Miss Oliver pensively, on the return journey, +"I could take quite a liking to that woman if I got to know her." + +"She won't give you the chance, then," said Mrs Polsue; "so you +needn't fret." + +"No, I suppose not . . . in a fashion. Still"--Miss Oliver +brightened--"she proposed me on the Needlework Committee, and we're +to meet at the Vicarage every Wednesday. She looked up at me a +moment before mentioning my name, and smiled as nice as possible; you +might almost say she read what was in my mind." + +"'Twould account for her smiling, no doubt." + +"I don't know what you mean by that. 'Twas in my mind that I'd +rather be on that committee than on any other. She's a proper lady, +whatever you may say, Mary-Martha. And the spoons were real silver-- +I took occasion to turn mine over, and there was the lion on the back +of it, sure enough." + +"I saw you in the very act, and meant to tell you of it later; but +other things drove it out of my head. You should have more command +over yourself, Charity Oliver." + +"But I _can't_," Miss Oliver protested. "When I see pretty things +like that, my fingers won't stop twiddlin' till I make sure." + +"By the same argiment I wonder you didn't pocket the spoon. +Which was old Lord Some-thing-or-Other's complaint; though I doubt +you wouldn't get off so light as he did." + +"There was the tea-pot, too. . . . I couldn't get nigh enough to see +the mark on that, though I tried. Next time, perhaps--though I doubt +she won't have the silver out for ordinary workin' parties--" + +"Tut--the tea-pot was silver right enough. I ought to know, havin' +one of my own and a heavier by ounces. No, I don't use it except on +special occasions: because you can't make so good tea in silver as in +china ware; and clome is better again. But though you lock it away, +a silver tea-pot is a thing to be conscious of. I don't hold," Mrs +Polsue fell back on her favourite formula, "with folks puttin' all +their best in the shop window." + +"Well, you _must_ be strong-minded! For my part," Miss Oliver +confessed, "little luxuries always get the better o' me. I declare +that if a rich man was to come along an' promise to load me with +diamonds and silver tea-pots and little knick-knacks of that sort, I +shouldn' care who he was, nor how ugly, but I'd just shut my eyes +and fling myself at his head." + +"You'd better advertise in the papers, then. It's time," said Mrs +Polsue sardonically. She wheeled about. "Charity Oliver, you +needn't use no more silly speech to prove what I could see with my +own eyes, back yonder, even if I hadn't known it already. You're a +weak fool--that's what you are! Those folks, with their pretty +manners and their 'how-dee-do's,' and 'I hope I see you well's,' and +their talk about all classes bein' at one in those times of national +trial and standin' shoulder to shoulder till it makes a body sick--do +you reckon they _mean_ a word of it? Do you reckon that if 'twas +Judgment Day itself, and you given to eatin' peas with a knife, +they'd really want you to luncheon?" + +"But I _don't_." + +"I'm puttin' it for the sake of argument--" + +"Then I wish you wouldn't," Miss Oliver interrupted with some spirit. + +"--And old Hambly kow-towing like a Puss-in-Boots till I could have +wrung his neck for him--and you weakenin' and playin' gentility as +you picked it up, like another cat after a mouse--and myself the only +one left to show 'em plain that we weren't to be put upon--yes, and +after you'd hoped, up to the very door, that whatever happened, +I'd take a proper stand!" + +"Well, and so I did," Miss Oliver admitted defiantly. "But I didn't +ask you to make yourself _conspicuous_." + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +POLSUE V. PENHALIGON, NANJIVELL INTERVENING. + +At breakfast, two days later, Dr Mant received a summons to visit +Polpier and pronounce upon the symptoms of Boatbuilder Jago's +five-year-old son Josey (Josiah), who had been feverish ever since +Tuesday evening. The Doctor's practice ranged over a wide district, +and as a rule (good easy man) he let the ailments of Polpier +accumulate for a while before dealing with them. Then he would +descend on the town and work through it from door to door--as Un' +Benny Rowett put it, "like a cross between a ferret an' a Passover +Angel." Thus the child and his temperature might have waited for +thirty-six hours--the mothers of Polpier being skilled in febrifuges, +from quinine to rum-and-honey, treacle posset, elder tea--to be dealt +with as preliminaries to the ambulance lecture, had it not been that +(1) the Doctor had recently replaced his old trap with a two-seater +car, which lifted him above old economies of time, and (2) he wished +to ascertain if the valley schoolhouse, in which he was to lecture, +possessed a wall-chart or diagram of the human frame; for it is a +useful rule to start an ambulance class with some brief information +on the body and its organs, their position and functions. Also he +remembered casually an official letter received from Troy, a couple +of days ago, concerning one Nicholas Nanjivell, a reservist. +The man, if he remembered rightly, had an epithelioma somewhere in +his leg, and was quite unfit for service. Nevertheless he must be +visited: for the letter was official. + +First of all, then, the Doctor hied him to Boatbuilder Jago's: and it +was lucky he did so, for the child had developed measles--a +notifiable complaint. "Any other cases about?" he asked. Mrs Jago +did not know of another child sick or sorry in the whole of Polpier. +"Which," she went on to argue in an aggrieved tone, "it therefore +passes my understandin' why our Josey should be took, poor mite! +'Tisn't as if he was a naughty child, either." + +"Everything must have a beginning, Mrs Jago," said the doctor in his +cheerful matter-of-fact way. + +"You reckon as it will spread, then?" + +"I don't know. I hope not. . . . It's a mercy that the schools are +closed for the holidays. When did they close, by the way?" + +"Just a week ago." + +"H'm. . . . I must step up and ask the Schoolmaster a few questions." + +"I called you in to cure my Josey, not to talk about other folk's +children." (Mrs Jago was a resentful woman.) + +"And I am doing my best for him. . . . Tut! in a week or so he'll be +running about as well as ever. But I'm the Medical Officer of +Health, ma'am." + +"Well I know it; seein' that, four months back, as you happened to be +passin', I called you in an' asked you to look at the poor dear's +eyes an' give me a certificate that he was sufferin' from something +chronic. An' you flatly declined." + +"If my memory serves me, I said he had a small stye in his eye, and I +was willing to certify that for what it was worth, if you didn't mind +paying me half-a-crown." + +"If edication's free, as they call it, I don't see why a body should +pay half-a-crown to get off what can be had for nothing. That's how +I reasoned then, and always shall. In consikence o' which that +la-di-da of an Attendance Officer, that thinks all the maids be after +him an' looks sideways into every shop window he passes for a sight +of his own image--and if it rids us of a fella like that, I'm all +for Conscription--got me summonsed before the Tregarrick bench an' +fined another half-crown, with five shillin' costs. An' now, when +the mischief's done an' the tender dear one rash from head to foot"-- +Mrs Jago mopped her eyes with the edge of her apron--"what better +can 'ee say than thank God the schools be closed! For my part, I +wish He'd close an' roll the great stone o' Daniel agenst 'em for +ever and ever!" + +Doctor Mant sought up the valley to the Schoolmaster, Mr Rounsell, +whose quarters formed a part of the school buildings, and ended the +block on its southern or seaward side. One roof, indeed, covered him +in and out of school: and the Vicar, as one of the Managers, had been +heard to lament this convenient provision. "It never allows the +fellow to forget his chain: he talks to me as if I were a class of +forty." + +Mr Rounsell himself answered the door. He had been gardening, and +was in his shirt-sleeves. At sight of his visitor he became +exceedingly prim and scholastic, with a touch of defiance. He was +short in stature, and, aware of this, often paused in the middle of a +sentence to raise himself on his toes. He made a special study of +what he called "Voice-Production," and regulated his most ordinary +conversation by the laws (as he understood them) of that agreeable +science. + +"Doctor Mant?" + +"Ah, it's yourself, is it?" chimed Dr Mant, whom the Schoolmaster's +accent always sent back, and instantly, to a native brogue. +"Well, and it's a fine row of sweet peas you have, Mr Rounsell, at +the edge of the garden by the stream. I note them every time I drive +by: and how in the world you contrive it, year after year, in the +same soil--" + +"You take me at some disadvantage, sir," said Mr Rounsell stiffly. +"My daughter being from home on a holiday, and few people coming to +this door at any time, unless it be to ask a small favour." + +"Well, and you've hit it: for myself's one of that same," Dr Mant +assured him cheerily. "But business first! Jago's child has the +measles. Had you any reason to suspect measles, or anything of the +sort, in your school before you closed it a week ago?" + +Mr Rounsell, who had seemed to be arming himself against a very +different approach, sensibly relaxed his guard. He was punctilious +by habit in all official responsibilities. He considered for a +moment before answering. + +"Had I done so, I should have reported my--er--suspicions. I cannot +tax my memory, Dr Mant, with having observed a symptom in any child +which pointed--er--in that direction. With regard to the child +Jago, I was the less likely to be forewarned of such an--er--shall we +say?--eventuality, seeing that he is the most irregular attendant of +my infant class, and, so far as my recollection serves me, his +attendances during the past quarter amount to but twenty-three point +four. I leave you to judge." + +"Right--O! What about his attendance the week before breaking up?" + +"I can look up the Register if you wish, sir. But, speaking at +off-hand, I should compute the child Josiah Jago's attendances during +the last week of July at _nil_, or thereabouts. You will understand, +Dr Mant, that at the very close of the school year many parents take +advantage, reasoning that they will not be prosecuted during the +holidays. I may say that I have drawn the attention of the School +Attendance Committee to this--er--propensity on the part of parents, +and have asked them to grapple with it: but, so far, without result." + +"Hallelujah!" exclaimed Dr Mant. "Then there's hope we may isolate +the little devil. . . . Well, so far so good. But that wasn't my +only reason for calling. I have to give an ambulance lecture in your +schoolroom to-morrow evening: and I came to ask if you had a wall-map +or chart of the human body to help me along. Otherwise I shall have +to lug over a lot of medical books with plates and pass 'em around: +and the plates are mixed up with others. . . . Well, you understand, +they're not everybody's picture-gallery. That's to say, you can't +pass a lot of books around and say 'Don't turn the page, or maybe +you'll get more than you bargain for. '" + +Mr Rounsell had stiffened visibly. "I will not conceal from you, Dr +Mant, that the matter on which you now approach me is--er--the +subject on which I--er--privately anticipated that you had called. +I have no _official_ knowledge of your lecturing here to-morrow-- +instructive as I am sure it will be. The Managers have not consulted +me; they have not even troubled to give me official notice. But come +inside, sir." + +Doctor Mant followed, to a little parlour lined with books; wherein +the little man turned on him, white with rage. + +"I have heard, by a side wind," he foamed, "that a meeting was held, +two days ago, up at the Vicarage, when it was decided that you should +hold lectures in this school--_my_ school. I wasn't asked to attend. + . . . And of course you will jump to the conclusion that I am +over-sensitive, huffed for my own sake. It isn't that! . . . I _am_ +huffed--maddened--if you will--for the sake of my calling. +For twenty years, Dr Mant, I have opened this school every morning +with prayer, dismissed it with prayer every evening, and between +times laboured to preach many things that all in the end come to one +thing--the idea of a poor English schoolmaster. All over the country +other poor schoolmasters have been spending their lives teaching in +just the same way their notion of England--what she is, has been, +ought to be. Similarly, no doubt, teachers all over France and +Germany have been teaching--under the guise of grammar, arithmetic, +what not--_their_ ideas of what France or Germany has been, is, ought +to be. These nations are opposed and at length they come to a direct +conflict, in this War. Mark you what happens! At once we patient +teachers in England are brushed all aside. You call a chance +Committee of amateurs, and the man who has taught the boys whom, +within a fortnight, you will be clamouring to fight for you, has not +even the honour to be consulted. . . . Yes, I think well enough of +Great Britain to be pretty confident that she will win, letting us +slip; that is, she will win though fighting with a hand tied. +But Germany is no such fool. _She_ won't, in her hour of need, +despise the help of her teachers. They teach what is almost +diametrically opposed to our teaching: they teach it thoroughly, and +on my soul I believe it to be as nearly opposed as wrong can be to +right. But they have the honour to be trusted; therefore they will +succeed in making this war a long one. . . . Yes, I have a wall-map, +sir, of the human body. It does not belong to the school: I bought +it on my own account seven years ago, but the then Managers +considered it too naked to hang on the walls of a mixed school, and +disallowed the expense. You are very welcome to use it, and I am +only glad that at length it will serve a purpose." + + +"Touchy lot, these school-teachers!" mused Dr Mant on his way back +to the town. "I never can like 'em, somehow. . . . Maybe I ought to +have used a little tact and told him that, as I understood it, Mrs +Steele called the meeting; and it was for women-workers only. +That wouldn't quite account for Farmer Best though," he chuckled. +"And I suppose Best and the Vicar, as Managers--yes, and Mrs +Pamphlett's another--just put their heads together on the spot and +gave leave to use the schoolroom, without consulting the Head Teacher +at all. I don't suppose it ever crossed their minds. . . . No: on +the whole that poor little man is right. Nobody in England ever +_does_ take any truck in schoolmasters. They're just left out of +account. And I dare say--yes: I dare say--that means we don't, as a +people, take any real truck in Education. Well, and who's the worse +for it?--barring the teachers themselves, poor devils! Germany has +taken the other line, put herself in the hands of pedagogues, from +the Professors down: and a nice result it's going to be for her, and +for the rest of the world in the meantime! On the whole--" + +On the whole, the Doctor decided--faithful to his habit of looking +questions in the face and so passing on--that these things worked out +pretty well as they were. + +His reflections carried him to the bridge-end, where, in the porch of +the Old Doctor's house, he encountered Mrs Polsue. + +"Ah! Good morning, ma'am! We are bound for the same door, it +appears? That's to say if, as I seem to remember, a man called +Nanjivell lives here?" + +"He does," Mrs Polsue answered. "And if I may make bold to say so, +it's high time!" + +"Eh? . . . Are you looking after him? I'd no idea that he was really +sick." + +"No more haven't I," said Mrs Polsue. "But I'll say 'tis time +_somebody_ looked after him, if I say no more. In point of fact," +she added, "I'm not seeing Nicholas Nanjivell, but a woman called +Penhaligon who lives in the other tenement here. Her husband was +called up last Saturday." + +"What, are you ladies at work already?" + +"Oh, _I_ don't let the grass grow under my feet," said Mrs Polsue. + +"Damn the woman, I suppose that's a slap at _me_," muttered Dr Mant +to himself. But he tapped on the Penhaligons' door for her very +politely. + +"Thank you," she said. "That's Nanjivell's door, at the end of the +passage." + +He bowed and went on, came to the door, paused for a glance at the +padlock hitched loose on the staple, knocked, and--as his custom was +when visiting the poor--walked in briskly, scarce waiting for an +answer. + +"Hullo!" + +Between him and the small window, almost blocking the light--on a +platform constructed of three planks and a couple of chairs set face +to face--stood Nicky-Nan, with a trowel in one hand and a +bricklayer's board in the other, surprised in the act of plastering +his parlour ceiling. + +"Had an accident here?" asked Dr Mant, eyeing the job critically. +"Old house tumbling about your ears?" + +"No . . . yes--that's to say--" stammered Nicky-Nan; then he seemed +to swallow down something, and so to make way for a pent-up fury. +"Who sent for 'ee? Who told 'ee to walk in like that without +knockin'? . . . _That's_ what I ask--Who sent for 'ee here? +_I_ didn!" + +"What in thunder's wrong with ye?" asked the Doctor, very coolly +taking a third chair, seating himself astraddle on it, and crossing +his arms over the top. "No harm to be taken patching up a bit of +plaster, is there?" Again he eyed the ceiling. + +"I--I beg your pardon, Doctor," answered Nicky-Nan, recollecting +himself. "But I live pretty lonely here, and the children--" + +"So _that's_ why you put a padlock on the door? . . . Well, I'm not a +child. And though you didn't send for me, somebody else did. +Mr Johns, the Custom House Officer at Troy. He wants to know why you +didn't go with the rest of the Reserve last Sunday." + +Nicky-Nan blazed up again. "Then you can tell 'en I can't nor I +won't--not if he cuts me in little pieces, I won't! Curse this War, +an' Johns 'pon the top of it! Can't you _see_--" + +"No," put in the Doctor, "that's just what I can't, while you stand +up there spitting like a cat on the tiles between me and the light. +What fly has stung ye I can't think; unless you want to get off by +passing yourself on me for a lunatic; and I can't certify to that +without calling in a magistrate. . . . Here, man, don't be a fool, +but get down!" + +Nicky-Nan laid aside trowel and board on the platform, and lowered +himself to the floor, very painfully. + +"Sit ye down here!" Doctor Mant jumped up and turned his chair about. +"Wait a moment, though, and let me have a look at you. No! not that +way, man--with your back to the light!" He caught Nicky-Nan by the +two shoulders, faced him about to the window, and took stock of him. +"H'm . . . you look pretty bad." + +Nicky-Nan, in fact, had spent half the previous night in crawling +upstairs and downstairs, between parlour and bedroom, or in kneeling +by the bedroom cupboard, hiding his wealth. He had thrown himself at +last on his bed, to sleep for a couple of hours, but at daybreak had +turned out again to start upon the plastering and work at it +doggedly, with no more sustenance than a dry biscuit. It had all +been one long-drawn physical torture; and the grey plaster smeared on +his face showed it ghastly even beyond nature. + +"Here, sit down; strip your leg, and let me have a look at it." + + +The examination took some fifteen minutes, perhaps; the Doctor +kneeling and inspecting the growth with the aid of a pocket +magnifying-glass. + +"Well," said he, rising and dusting his knees, "it's a daisy, and +I'll bet it hurts. But I don't believe it's malignant, for all that. +If you were a rich man, now--but you're not; so we won't discuss it. +What you'll have to do is to lie up, until I get you a ticket for the +South Devon and East Cornwall Hospital." + +"No hospital for me," said Nicky-Nan, setting his jaw. + +"Don't be a fool. I let slip in my haste that I don't reckon the +thing malignant; and I don't--as yet. But it easily may be; and +anyhow you're going to have trouble with it." + +"I've had trouble enough with it already. But, mortal or not, I +ben't goin' to stir out o' Polpier nor out o' this house. . . . +Doctor, don't you ask it!" he wound up, as with a cry extorted by +pain. + +"Why, man, what are you afraid of? An operation for _that_, what is +it? A whiff of chloroform--and in a week or so--" + +"But--," interrupted Nicky-Nan sharply, and again recollected +himself. "To tell 'ee the truth, Doctor--that's to say, if what +passes between patient an' doctor goes no farther--" + +"That's all right. I'm secret as houses." + +"To tell 'ee the truth, then, there's a particular reason why I don't +want to leave Polpier--not just for the present." + +Dr Mant stared at him. "You are going to tell me that reason?" + +But Nicky-Nan shook his head. "I'd rather not say," he confessed +lamely. + +Still Dr Mant stared. "Look here, Nanjivell. You've a beast of a +lump on your leg, and I can certify at once that it unfits you for +service. You couldn't even crawl up a ladder aboard ship, let alone +work a gun. But the people over at Troy have asked the question; +and, what is more, it sticks in my head that, two days ago, I got a +letter about you--an anonymous letter, suggesting that you were just +a malingerer, who nursed an ailment rather than go to the War and +take your chance with the others. As a rule I put that kind of +letter in the fire, and so I did with this one. As a rule, also, I +put it right out of my head. . . . But I've a conscience, in these +times; and if I thought you to be nursing a trouble which I pretty +well know to be curable, just to avoid your honest share in this +War--" Dr Mant paused. + +"Cuss the War!" said Nicky-Nan wearily. "It looks to me as if +everybody was possessed with it." + +Dr Mant still gazed at him curiously, then whipped about with a +sudden "Hey! What's _that?_" + + +_That_ was the voice of Mrs Penhaligon uplifted without, voluble and +frenzied: and the Doctor hurried forth, Nicky-Nan hobbling after, to +find Mrs Penhaligon waving her arms like a windmill's, and Mrs +Polsue, as before the blast of them, flat-backed against the wall of +the passage. + +"--And there you'll stay," Mrs Penhaligon threatened, "while I teach +your proud flesh! S'pose now I ventured on _you_, as you've been +venturin' on _me!_ S'pose now that, without so much as a visitin' +card, I nosed in on you with--'So that's your poor dear husban's +portrait, that you nagged to his grave--and a speakin' image of him +too, afore he took to the drink as the better way--An' what little +lux'ries might _you_ have cookin' in the apparatus, such as a barren +woman might reas'nably afford? Yes, yes--it must be a great savin', +havin' no children of your own, but do it warrant pig's liver an' +bacon of a Saturday?' Oh, my Gor, _I'll_ make your two ends meet +afore I've done with 'ee! _I'll_ tell 'ee the savin' of lard 'pon +butter! _I'll_ tell 'ee about nettle-broth an' bread-crumbs for a +child's diet! _I'll_--" + +The noise had attracted a group of women to the porchway; among them, +Mrs Climoe--"good at the war-cry," as Homer says of Diomede. +They huddled forward, obscuring the light. + +Mrs Polsue, feeling the wall firm against her back, collected her +dignity. "I wish all _respectable_ people here," she appealed to Dr +Mant, as he came hurrying up the passage, "to take note of this +woman's language." + +"'Woman?'" panted Mrs Penhaligon. "No more of a woman than yourself: +and less of a lady, thank God! Out! OUT! afore I soil my hands upon +'ee!" + +"You would hardly believe, Dr Mant"--Mrs Polsue addressed him with an +air of fine gentility, as the one person present who could +understand--"but I called on this poor body to advise and, if +necessary, procure her some addition to her income from the Emergency +Fund." + +"Oh, take her away!" sobbed Mrs Penhaligon, suddenly breaking down. +"Isn't it enough to lie awake at night with your man at the wars? +You're a gentleman, sir, an' a doctor, an' can understand. +Do 'ee take her away!" + +But Nicky-Nan had pushed forward. "You mean well, ma'am, I don't +doubt," he said, addressing Mrs Polsue. "But this here War has got +upon everybody's nerves, in a manner o' speaking." + +"It doesn't seem to trouble yours," retorted Mrs Polsue, at bay and +vicious; "or maybe it has, and that's why you're not with the +Reserve." + +Nicky-Nan flushed to the roots of his hair. But he answered +pacifically--"Until I go, ma'am, you may take it from me that Mrs +Penhaligon shan't want. I fixed all that up with her husband afore +he left. So there's not need for you callin' again, if you don't +mind." + +He said it firmly, yet quite respectfully. One or two of the women +in the porch murmured approval. + +Not so Mrs Climoe. + +"O-oh!" said Mrs Climoe, half aloud and all unheeded for the moment. +"So that's the way the wind blows, sure enough!" + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +THE 'TATY-PATCH. + +Nicky-Nan went back to his parlour, closed the door carefully, +mounted the platform again, and resumed his plastering. He felt +vexed with himself over that little speech of bravado. It had been +incautious, with all those women listening. + +Still it might be explained away, and easily enough. That woman +Polsue put everybody's back up. His words had been just a piece of +bluff to get rid of her. + +He had succeeded, too. He chuckled, recalling Mrs Polsue's +discomfiture; how with a final sniff she had turned and passed out +between the ironical files that drew aside for her in the porchway. + . . . For a burden had fallen from his heart: his little mistake, +just now, weighed as nothing against the assurance that Dr Mant +would write a certificate and settle these meddlesome idiots at the +Troy Custom-house. . . . Moreover Dr Mant, who passed for a +knowledgeable fellow in his profession, had as good as assured him +that his leg was nothing to die of; not just yet anyway. Well, he +would have it attended to, sometime; his life was valuable now. +But he wasn't going to hurry about it, if a sound leg meant his being +taken and ordered off to this dam-fool War. Nicky-Nan pursed up his +lips as he worked, whistling to himself a cheerful, tuneless ditty. +Some one tapped on the door. "Who's there?" + +"It's me," answered the voice of Mrs Penhaligon. "Can I come in?" + +"No, you can't!" he shouted. "Here, wait a minute! . . . And what +might be the matter now?" he asked, as he opened the door a very +little way. "I'm sorry, ma'am, that I can't ask 'ee to step inside; +but there's a tidyin'-up goin' forward." + +"I'd as lief speak to 'ee here, in the passage. Indeed I'd rather," +said Mrs Penhaligon as he emerged, trowel in hand. "Well, what is +it?" + +She hesitated a moment. "'Tis a hard thing for a woman to say. . . . +But maybe 'tis turnin' out you are?" she suggested brightly. +"Turnin' out?" + +"That would simplify things, o' course. And everybody knowin' that +Pamphlett's served you with a notice to quit--" + +But thereupon Nicky-Nan exploded. "Served me with a notice, did he? +Pamphlett! . . . Well, yes he did, if you want to know. But never +you fret: I'm upsides with Pamphlett. This is my house, ma'am: an' +here I bide till it pleases me to quit." + +"O-oh!" sighed Mrs Penhaligon dejectedly, "then it puts me in a very +awkward position, if you don't mind my sayin' so." + +"How is it awkward, ma'am?" asked Nicky-Nan, rubbing his unshaven +chin with the point of the trowel. + +"Well, Mr Nanjivell, I dare say you meant it well enough. But I have +my reputation to think about; an' the children, God bless 'em! +I grant that Polsue body to be a provokin' woman. She 'ave a way +with her that drives me mad as a sheep. But, if you don't mind me +tellin' 'ee, you men have no sense--not a mother's son of 'ee. Not a +doubt my Sam'd ha' spoke up just as fierce as you did. But then, you +see, he's my Sam." + +"Very like 'tis my dulness, ma'am," said Nicky-Nan, still delicately +scraping his jaw-bristles with the trowel; "but I don't catch your +drift, even now." + +"Then I'll speak plainer. Where was the sense to blurt out afore a +lot o' naybours as _you_'d see I didn' come to want? Be I the kind +o' woman to take any help but my own man's?--even if you had it to +give, which 'tis well be-known as you haven't." + +"Oh, damn!" He swore as if a wasp had stung him: and indeed he had +jabbed the point of the trowel into his jaw. After a pause he added, +"The naybours know--do they?--as I couldn' act up to what I promised +that woman, not if I tried. Very well, then. Where's the harm done? + . . . I cleared her out, anyway." + +Mrs Penhaligon eyed him with pity for a moment. "Yes," she sighed, +"that's just the plumb-silly way my Sam would talk: and often enough +he've a-driven me just wild with it. Men be all of one mould. . . . +Mr Nanjivell, you've no great experience o' women. But did 'ee ever +know a woman druv to the strikes[1] by another woman? An' did 'ee +ever know a woman, not gone in the strikes, that didn' keep some wit +at the back of her temper? . . . _I_ was dealin' with Mrs Polsue, +don't you make any mistake." + +"It struck me that she had been distressin' you, an' you'd be glad to +get the rids of her." + +"So I _was_ in distress. But I had th' upper hand, 'specially wi' +those women hearkenin' and every one hatin' her. . . . What must +happen, but forth you steps with a 'Leave this to me. _I_'ll look +after Mrs Penhaligon. _I_'ll see _she_ don't come to want'--all as +bold as a fire-hose. '_I_'ll clear 'ee out o' this house, which is +_our_ house,' says you--or to that effect. I wasn' so mad but, when +I heard 'ee, there was time to glimpse mother Climoe's face. +Oh yes! I know what you'll be sayin'. 'Talk, is it?' you'll be +sayin', just like my Sam: an' 'Let them talk. What's talk?'--an' +talk, all the time, two-thirds of every decent woman's life!" + +"I never heard such dratted nonsense in all my born days." + +"That's because you was never married. You'd have heard it from a +wife, half your time: though I dare say"--Mrs Penhaligon sighed-- +"'twould ha' been with you like the rest. . . . 'A nice cauch Mr +Nanjivell's made of it,' said I to myself, getting back to the +kitchen: 'but he's under notice to quit: and if he quits quick an' +delicate, mebbe there's no great harm done.' So I came along to ask +you about it." + +At this point Nicky-Nan fairly lost command of his temper. + +"So you're one wi' the rest, eh? All in one blasted conspiracy to +turn me to doors! One comes threatenin', t'other comes carneyin', +but all endin' in the same lidden.[2] 'Your health ben't the best, +Nanjivell: let me recommend a change of air.' 'Nanjivell, you're a +fine upstandin' fellow, an' young for your age. Why don't 'ee leg it +off to the War?' 'These be hard times, Nanjivell; so I'm forced to +ask 'ee for your rent, or out you go.' An' now along you come wi' +the latest. 'Would you mind makin' yourself scarce, Mr Nanjivell, to +oblige a lady as has lost confidence in her repitation?' Now look +'ee here, ma'am--what I said to that woman Polsue, just now, is no +more than I'm able to abide by. If the shoe pinches at any time, you +can come to me, and I'll reckon up wi' Sam Penhaligon when he comes +back. What's more--though, to be sure, 'tis no affair o' mine--I +reckon Sam Penhaligon's the only chap alive, savin' yourself, +consarned in this repitation you've started to make such a fuss +about. But you're playin' Pamphlett's game, ma'am, to turn me out," +wound up Nicky-Nan wrathfully, turning away: "that's what you're +doin': and I'll see you--" + +He closed the oath upon a slam of the door. + +"There was never a man in this world," sighed Mrs Penhaligon as she +regained her own kitchen, "but hisself came afore all the world." She +arrested her hand on the cover of the flour-barrel. + +"He talked so confident of his money, too. . . . Funny thing if +Nicky-Nan, that we've been pityin' all this time, should turn out to +be a miser!" + + +An hour later, in the full light of the afternoon sunshine, Nicky-Nan +emerged from the old house with a shovel on his arm and a bundle +dangling from it. He had heard 'Bert Penhaligon say that the Boy +Scouts were employed by night only for coast-watching. By day the +pilots with their telescopes habitually commanded this whole stretch +of coast, nor could the periscope of a submarine push itself above +the inshore water and not be detected. + +At the corner of the Warren, where the cliff turns eastwardly with a +sharp bend, Nicky-Nan almost ran into Policeman Rat-it-all, who +pulled himself up for a chat as usual. + +"I don't know what _you_ think," observed the Policeman, "but to my +mind this here War gives us a great sense o' brotherhood. I read +that on the newspaper this mornin', and it struck me as one o' the +aptest things I'd seen for a long while." + +"You said something o' the sort last time we met," answered +Nicky-Nan. + +"You're wrong there." Rat-it-all seemed to be slightly hurt in his +feelings; "because I read it on the paper only this morning. +'Against War in the abstrac' much may be urged,' it said. 'But 'oo +will deny as it begets a sense o' Brotherhood if it does nothin' +else?' That was the expression." + +"I don't take much truck in this War, for my part," said Nicky-Nan, +quartering on the narrow footpath to let Rat-it-all pass: "but it'll +do a dam sight else afore we're through with it, if you want my +opinion." + +"To a man in the Force," said Rat-it-all pensively, "an expression +like that, mixed up with photographs in the 'Daily Mirror,' strikes +HOME. A man in the Force, as I'll put it, is in some ways unlike +other men." He paused to let this sink in. + +"Take your time," said Nicky-Nan. "But I'm not contradictin' 'ee." + +"If they're a species, he's a specie--a man set apart, like a parson. +A parson tells you how you ought to behave, and I take you in charge +if you don't." + +"Like Satan," Nicky-Nan suggested. + +"Rat it all! Not a bit like Satan!" said the Constable angrily. +"You've not been followin'. I never heard so foolish an interruption +in all my born days. . . . What be you carryin' in that there bundle, +makin' so bold?" + +Nicky-Nan felt his heart stand still. "Just my waskit an' a few odds +an' ends," he answered with affected nonchalance. Forcing himself to +meet Rat-it-all's gaze, and perceiving it to be dreamy rather than +suspicious, he added, "What makes 'ee ask?" + +"Nothin', . . . nothin'. . . . Only you reminded me of a song I used +to sing, back in the old days. It was called 'Off to Philadelphia in +the mornin'.' A beautiful voice I used to have: tenor. I shouldn' +wonder if I had it yet; only"--with a wistful sigh--"in the Force you +got to put that sort o' thing behind you, . . . which brings me back +to what I was saying. In an ordinary way, a police-constable's life +is like a parson's: they see more'n most men o' what's goin' on, but +they don't _belong_ to it. You can't properly hobnob with a chap +that, like as not, you'll be called on to marry or bury to-morra, nor +stand him a drink--nor be stood--when, quite as like, next time +you'll be servin' a summons. There's a Jane on both sides." + +"A who?" + +"'Tisn' a ''oo,' 'tis an 'it': bein' an expression I got off an +Extension Lecturer they had down to Bodmin, one time. I'd a great +hankerin', in those days, to measure six foot two in my socks afore I +finished growin', and I signed on for his lectures in that hope. +With a man callin' his-self by that name and advertisin' as he'd +lecture on 'Measure for Measure,' I thought I'd a little bit of all +right. But he ran right off the rails an' chatted away about the +rummiest things, such as theatricals. I forget what switched 'en off +an' on to that partic'lar line: but I well remember his openin' +remark. He said, 'To measure the true stature of a great man we must +go down to the true roots. A certain Jane is bound to overtake us if +we dig too long among the common 'taturs with their un-stopp'd lines +an' weak endings and this or that defective early quest. Oh! all +profitable, no doubt, an' worth cultivatin' so long as we do not look +for taste.' When I woke up at the end 'twas with these words printed +in mind same as they've remained. But I couldn' figure out how this +here Jane got mixed up in the diet. So, bein' of a practical mind +then, in my 'teens, same as I be to-day, I stopped behind and asked +him--takin' care to look bright and intelligent--who might be this +Jane he'd allooded to. If you'll believe me, it turned out to be no +person at all, but a way the gentry have of sayin' they're +uncomfortable; same as, through some writin' chap or other, all the +papers was talkin' of your belly as your Little Mary." + +"Mine?" + +"When I say 'yours,' o' course I mean to say 'ours'--that's to say, +every one's." Rat-it-all made a semicircular sweep of the hand in +front of his person. + +"Something of a liberty, I should say, however many you include. +What I object to in these newspapers is the publicity. . . . But, if +you ask my opinion, that Extension fellow made a start with pullin' +your leg." + +"You're wrong, then. For I tried the expression 'pon Parson Steele +only two days ago. 'This here war, sir,' I took occasion to say, +'fairly gives me the Jane.' He reckernised the word at once, an' +lugged out his note-book. 'Do you know, constable,' says he, +'that you're talkin' French, an' it's highly interestin'?' +'I make no doubt as 'twould be, sir,' says I, 'if I was to hold on +with it.' 'You don't understand,' says he. 'These Gallic turns o' +speech'--which, 'tween you an' me, I'd always thought o' Gallic as a +kind of acid--'these Gallic turns o' speech,' says he, 'be engagin' +the attention of learned men to such an extent that I think o' +writin' a paper upon 'em myself,' says he, 'for the Royal Institution +o' Cornwall at their next Summer Meetin'.' . . . I was considerably +flattered, as you may well understand. . . . But that brings me back +to my point. Parsons an' constables, as I see the matter, be men set +apart, an' lonely. So when I reads 'pon the paper that this here war +has made us all brothers, it strikes HOME, an' I feel inclined to +stop an' pass the time o' day with anybody. I don't care who he may +be." + +"Then why waste time danderin' along the cliffs, here?" + +Policeman Rat-it-all lowered his voice. "Between you an' me, again," +he confessed, "I got to do my four miles or so every day, for the +sake o' my figger." + +"'Tis unfortunate then," said Nicky-Nan, taking heart of grace and +lying hardily: "for you've missed a lovely dog-fight." + +"Where? Whose?" Rat-it-all panted, suddenly all alive and +inquisitive. + +"Dog-fights don't concern me. . . . It may ha' been Jago's +bull-terrier an' that Airedale o' Latter's. Those two seldom meet +without a scrap." + +"Is it over?" A sudden agitation had taken hold of Rat-it-all's +legs. + +"Very like," lied Nicky-Nan, now desperately anxious to be rid of +him. "I heard somebody callin' for snuff or a pot o' pepper--either +o' which they tell me--" + +"An' you've kept me dallyin' all this while how-de-doin'?" Rat-it-all +made a bolt down the path. + +Nicky-Nan watched his disappearing figure, and collapsed upon a +thyme-scented hillock in sudden revulsion from a long strain of +terror. + +He sat there for a good five minutes, staring out on the open waters +of the Channel. An armed cruiser, that had been practising gunnery +at intervals during the day, was heading home from Plymouth. A tug +had come out and was fetching back her targets. Nicky-Nan arose very +deliberately, made for his 'taty-patch in the hollow beyond the pilot +house, laid his bundle on the ground, and began to dig in and cover +his golden coins, fetching a handful at a time. He had buried them +all, and was returning at shut of dusk, when he met young 'Bert +Penhaligon coming up the path. + +"This is the last night for us here," proclaimed young 'Bert, "and I +can't say as I'm sorry. But maybe they'll move us." + +"How so?" asked Nicky-Nan. + +"Well, between you an' me," announced young 'Bert, who during the +last week had seemed to put on stature with confidence, "there's a +company of Royal Engineer Territorials ordered over from Troy to dig +theirselves in an' camp here." + +[1] Hysterics. +[2] Monotonous burthen. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +CORPORAL SANDERCOCK. + +Nicky-Nan arose with the dawn after a night of little sleep. +Very cautiously, with one hand feeling the wall, and in the other +carrying his boots, lest he should wake the Penhaligons, he stole +downstairs to his parlour. The day being Sunday, he could not dare +to risk outraging public opinion by carrying shovel or visgy through +the open streets. To be sure nobody was likely to be astir at that +hour: for Polpier lies late abed on Sunday mornings, the fishermen +claiming it as their week's arrears of sleep. None the less it might +happen: Un' Benny, for example, was a wakeful old man, given to +rising from his couch unreasonably and walking abroad to commune with +his Maker. For certain if Nicky-Nan should be met, going or coming, +with a shovel on his shoulder, his dereliction from grace would be +trumpeted throughout the parish, and--worse, far worse--it would +excite curiosity. + +In the parlour he provided himself with the plastering trowel and a +sack, and wrapped the one in the other into a tight parcel, easily +carried under the crook of his arm-pit. With this he tiptoed along +the passage. There was no trouble with latch or bolt: for, save in +tempestuous weather, the front door of the old house--like half the +front doors of the town--stood open all night long. An enormous +sea-shell, supposed of Pernambuco, served it for weight or "dog," +holding it tight-jammed against the wall of the passage. + +Nicky-Nan seated himself on the bench in the porchway and did on his +boots. The light was very dim here, and his fingers trembled, so +that he took a long time threading the laces through the +eyelet-holes. He became aware that his nerves were shaken. At the +best of times, with his hurt leg, he found this operation of lacing +his boots one of the worst of the day's jobs. It cost him almost as +much time as shaving, and far more pain. + +But at length the laces were threaded and tied, and tucking his +parcel under his arm he set forth. He had forgotten his +walking-staff and dared not go back to fetch it. Moreover, in +Polpier it is held to be inauspicious if, once started on an +enterprise, you turn back for something you have forgotten: and +Nicky-Nan, a sceptic by habit, felt many superstitions assailing him +this morning. For instance, he had been careful to lace up his right +boot before his left. + +A high tide filled the inner pool of the harbour, and on its smooth +surface several gulls floated, paddling lazily if at all. +These birds know Sunday from week-days as well as any Christian folk: +which is nothing very wonderful, for the Polpier boats have lain at +home all the night and there is no fish-offal drifting about. +Nicky-Nan counted the birds carefully, and drew a breath of relief on +assuring himself that they totalled fifteen--an odd number and a +lucky one. But he had no sooner done so than, as if they had been +waiting for him, to signal misfortune, two of the flock arose, +pattered for a moment on the water, wheeled upward twice, thrice, in +short circles, and sailed off. His heart sank as he did the small +sum in subtraction: but he controlled himself, noting that they +sailed off to the right. + +It was pretty to see them rising out of the blue liquid shadow of the +harbour-pool; rising until, in a flash, they took the morning sun-ray +that struck almost level across the top of the chasm, and were +transformed into winged jewels, dazzling the eye. But Nicky-Nan +scarcely marked this, being preoccupied with his cares and fears: for +where a man's treasure is, there will his heart be also. Nor did he +note at the bend of the cliff, which brought him in turn, after a +long climb, face to face with the sun, that already its beams were +warming the dew-drenched cushions of thyme on either side of the +track, and drawing delicious odour from them. The ray, smiting full +in his eyes for a moment or two, hid from him all details of the +landscape ahead and on his left, even as effectually as it hid the +stars of night. Nicky-Nan hobbled on for a few paces, blinking. +Then, with a catch of the breath, he came to a halt. His vision +clearing by degrees, he let out a gasp and his knees shook under him. + +A couple of hundred yards away, and for half a mile beyond that, the +green turf was populous with soldiery! + +For some miles east and west of our haven the coast-front runs, as it +were, in two tiers. From the sea rises a sheer face of naked rock, +averaging some two hundred feet in height, for the most part +unscaleable, but here and there indented with steep gully-ways, down +each of which, through thickets of cow-parsley, flax, kale, and +brambles, matted curtains of ground-ivy, tussocks of thrift and +bladder-campion, a rivulet tumbles to the brine. Above this runs a +narrow terrace or plat of short turf, where a man may walk with his +hands in his pockets; and here, with many ups and downs, runs the +track used by the coastguard, who blaze the stones beside it at +intervals with splashes of whitewash, for guidance on dark nights. +Above this plateau, which here expands to a width of twenty or thirty +feet and anon contracts almost to nothing, the cliff takes another +climb, right away now to the skyline; but the acclivity is gentler, +with funnel-shaped turfy hollows between bastions of piled rock not +unlike Dartmoor tors or South African kopjes in miniature. On top of +all runs a second terrace, much broader than the first, and a low +hedge, beyond which, out of sight, the cultivated land begins. + +Hard by the foot of one of these rock-bastions, on a fan-shaped plat +of green, backed by clumps of ivy and wind-tortured thorns, a group +of tents had sprung up like a cluster of enormous mushrooms. +More tents aligned the upper terrace, under the lee of the hedge: and +here also five or six waggons stood against the sky-line, with men +busy about them. Smaller knots of men in khaki toiled in the +hollows, dragging down poles, sleepers, bundles of rope, parcels of +picks and entrenching spades for the lower camp. Twos and threes, +perched precariously on the rock-ridges, held on to check-ropes, +guiding the descent of the heavier gear. The sound of voices +shouting orders came borne on the clear morning air; and above it, as +Nicky-Nan halted, rose the note of a bugle, on which somebody was +practising to make up for time lost in days of peace. + +Nicky-Nan pulled his wits together and stumbled forward, terror in +his heart. Could he reach the 'taty-patch and snatch his treasure +before these invaders descended upon it? + +The patch (as has been told) lay in a hollow, concealed from sight of +the pilot-house. The cliff-track crossed a sharp knoll and brought +you upon it suddenly. Nicky-Nan's heart beat fast, and unconsciously +he accelerated his hobble almost to a run. As he pulled up short on +the edge of the dip a sob broke from him--almost a cry. + +Below him a couple of men in khaki were measuring the hollow with a +field-tape; while a third--an officer--stood almost midway between +them pencilling notes in a book. The tape stretched clean across the +potato-patch. + +"Right!" announced the officer, not perceiving Nicky, whose shadow, +of course, lay behind on the path. + +The nearer man--a stout corporal--dropped his end of the +measuring-tape. The other wound it up slowly. + +"We'll have to lay the trench through here," said the officer; and +quoted, "'I'm sorry for Mr Naboth--I'm sorry to cause him pain;' but +you, corporal, must find him and tell him he'll get compensation for +disturbance." He pocketed his note-book, turned, and mounted the +slope towards the encampment. The soldier holding the spool on the +far side of the dip finished winding the tape very leisurably; which +gave it the movement and appearance of a long snake crawling back to +him across Nicky-Nan's potato-tops and over Nicky-Nan's fence. +Then, shutting the spool with a click, he turned away and followed +his officer. The stout corporal, left alone, seated himself on a +soft cushion of thyme, drew forth a pipe from his hip-pocket, and was +in the act of lighting it when Nicky-Nan descended upon him. + +"And 'oo may _you_ be?" asked the stout corporal, turning about as he +puffed. + +"You--you've no business here!" stammered Nicky wrathfully. +"The first sojer I catch trespassin' on my piece o' ground, I'll have +the law on him!" + +"Hullo! Be you the owner o' this patch, then?" + +"Yes, I be: and I tell 'ee you've no business messin' around my +property." + +The corporal removed the pipe from his mouth and rubbed its bowl +softly against the side of his nose. "So you said, to be sure. +I didn' laugh at the moment, not bein' a triggerish chap at a joke. +But it'll come in time. That's why I joined the sappers." + +"Eh?" + +"I takes a pleasure in _redoocin'_ things. . . . Well, if you be the +owner o' this here patch, the pleasure is mootual, for you've saved +me time an' trouble over and above your speakin' so humorous. +And what might your name be, makin' so bold?" + +"Nanjivell." + +"You don't say so! . . . Christian name?" + +"Nicholas." + +"'Tis a fair co-incidence," mused the corporal aloud. "I knew a man +once by the name of Nanjivell--a fish-dealer; but he was called +Daniel, an' he's dead, what's more. I remember him all the better, +because once upon a time, in my young days, I made a joke upon him, +so clever it surprised myself. It began with my sendin' in a bill +'Account rendered' that he'd already paid. I started by tellin' 'ee +that I was young at the time. 'Twas before I married my wife to look +after the books, an' I won't say that I wasn' a bit love-struck an' +careless. Anyway, in went that dam bill; and he'd kep' the receipt, +which made him fair furious. Mad as fire he was, an' wrote me a +letter about it. Such a saucy letter! 'Twas only last Christmas or +thereabouts I found it in my desk an' tore it up. But I got even +with him. 'Dear sir,'--I wrote back, 'your favour of the 5th instant +received an' unchristian spirit of the same duly noted. On inquiry I +find the 3 lb. of sausages to esteemed order was paid for on +Lady-day: which on cooler thoughts you will see in the light of a +slip as might have happened to anybody. Which in fact it did in this +case. P.S.--Nanjivell ought to rhyme with _civil_. What a mistake +when it rhymes with D--!--Yours faithfully'--and I signed my name. +Then, on second thoughts, I tacked on another pos'script. At this +distance o' time I can't be sure if 'twas 'Flee from the Wrath to +Come' or 'The Wages o' Sin is Death'--but I think the latter, as +bein' less easily twisted into a threat. . . . That," added the +corporal after a pause, "closed the correspondence." + +"And where," Nicky-Nan asked, "might all this have happened?" + +"At Penryn: which, for electoral purposes, is one borough with +Falmouth. . . . I hoped as you would ha' laughed: but I'm glad to +find you interested, anyway. Sandercock is my name, if you can make +anything o' that,--Eli Sandercock, Fore Street, Penryn, pork and +family butcher. You've heard o' Sandercock's hogs-puddin's I don't +doubt?" + +"Never." + +"Haven't travelled much, maybe?" + +"Knocked about a little. . . . Mostly on the China station an' South +Pacific." + +"Ah, they're hot climates, by all accounts. They wouldn't--no, o' +course they wouldn't--" + +"Wouldn't _what?_" + +"Bring you into contact, so to speak. . . . You should see my +vi'lets, too." + +"Violets?" + +"They go together. You may notice the same thing in Truro: everybody +that sells pork sells vi'lets." + +"Damme if I can see the connexion--" + +"You wouldn't--not at first. Vi'lets is a delicate way of +advertisin' that there's an r in the month, an' your pork by +consequence can be relied on. My wife, too, is never happy without a +great bowlful o' vi'lets on the counter, done up in bunches: she +thinks they suit her complexion. Now this patch o' yours'd be the +very place to raise vi'lets. I was thinkin' so just now when I +measured it. Suffer much from red-spider in these parts?" + +"Not so far as I know. . . . But 'tis a curious thing," went on +Nicky-Nan, "to find a man like you turned to sojerin'." + +"Ah," cried Corporal Sandercock, eager for sympathy, "yes, well you +may say that! It seems like a dream. . . . Of course in the +pork-business August is always a slack month, an' this blasted War +couldn' have happened at a more convenient season for pork, not if +the Kaiser had consulted me." + +"But what drove 'ee to it?" + +"Into the Engineers? Well, 'tis hard to say. . . . I always had +leanin's: an' then the sausages preyed on my mind--they look so much +like fuses. So, what with one thing and another, and my wife likin' +to see me in scarlet, with piping down my legs, which is what we wear +on Sundays--'Tis a long story, however, an' we can talk it over as +we're diggin' up yer 'taties." + +"'Diggin' up my 'taties'?" Nicky-Nan echoed with a quaver. +"Let me catch you tryin' it!" + +"Now, we're comin' to business," said Corporal Sandercock. +"_That's_ what the O.C. told me--Captain Whybro, commandin' Number 4 +Works Company, Cornwall Fortress Royal Engineers. 'Here's where we +carry our first trench,' says he; 'an' here, if wit o' man can grasp +the why or the wherefore,' says he, 'is a filthy potato-patch lyin' +slap across our line. Corporal,' says he to me, 'you're a family man +an' tactful. I detach you,' says he, 'to search the blighter out an' +request him to lift his crop without delay. If at first you don't +succeed, try, try again,' says he, 'an' the more you run around the +better it'll be for your figure, an' the more you'll thank me,' he +winds up, 'when we march together into Berlin.' So now you +understand how welcome you dropped in. . . . 'Tis a terribly hilly +country hereabouts." + +"If there's law in England," Nicky-Nan threatened, "you'll keep clear +o' this here patch o' mine, or it'll be the worse for 'ee!" + +Corporal Sandercock seated himself leisurably on a hillock of thyme, +began to knock out his pipe against the edge of his boot-sole, and +suddenly exploded in laughter so violent that he was forced to hold +his sides. The exhibition took Nicky-Nan right aback. He could but +stand and stare. + +"Oh, oh!" panted the corporal. After another paroxysm he gasped, +"You'll excuse me, but that's how I get taken. 'You've got no +business here' was your words." (Another paroxysm.) "You can't +think how comical you said it, either." + +"Comical or not, I mean it," Nicky-Nan assured him, with a saturnine +frown. "If you can give over holdin' your belly an' listen, I don't +mind tellin' you my opinion o' this here War; which is, that 'tis a +put-up job from start to finish, with no other object than to annoy +folks." + +The corporal sat up, wiping his eyes. "That's a point o' voo," he +admitted, and added guardedly, "I don't say as I agree: but I'd like +to know how, comin' upon all of us so suddent, it strikes a man like +you, dwellin' in these out-o'-the-way parts. My wife declares she've +seen matters workin' up to it for years." + +"I never thought about it, one way or t'other, an' I don't want to +think about it now. Who in the world _wants_ war? Not I, for one." + +"Me either, if it comes to that," Corporal Sandercock allowed, +refilling his pipe. "If the matter had rested with me, I'd ha' gone +on forming fours every Wednesday an' Saturday, contented enough, all +the rest o' my life. But the great ones of earth will have it, the +Kaiser especially: and, after that, there's no more to say. +The Kaiser wants a place in the sun, as he puts it; an' 'tis our +bounden duty as true Britons to see he don't get any such thing." + +"I never heard tell as he expressed a hankerin' for my 'taty-patch," +answered Nicky Nan sourly. "The way I look at it is, _he_ leaves me +alone in quiet, an' you don't. A pack o' sojers messin' about a spot +like this!" he added with scorn. "It affronts a decent man's +understandin'. But 'tis always the same wi' sojers. In the Navy, +when I belonged it, we had a sayin'--'A messmate afore a ship-mate, a +ship mate afore a dog, an' a dog afore a sojer.'" + +"To judge by your appearance," said the corporal with no sign of +umbrage, "that was some time ago, afore they started the Territorial +movement. . . . Ever study what they call Stradegy? No?--I thought +not. Stradegy means that down below your patch there's a cove o' +sorts: where there's a cove there's a landin'-place; where you can +get a light gun ashore you can clear the shore till you find a spot +to land heavy guns. Once you've landed heavy guns you've a-took +Plymouth in the rear. You follow me?" Corporal Sandercock stood up +and picked up a crumb or two of tobacco from the creases of his +tunic. "I'll go fetch a fatigue party to harvest these spuds o' +yours," said he. "There'll be compensation for disturbance. If you +like, you can come along an' bargain it out wi' the O.C." + +"No," said Nicky-Nan, snatching at this happy chance. "I'm a lame +one, as you see. What must be, must, I suppose: but while you step +along I'll bide here." + +"So long, then!" + +The corporal had no sooner turned his back than Nicky began to unwrap +his bundle in a fumbling haste. He watched the rotund figure as it +waddled away over the rise; and so, dropping on his knees, fell to +work furiously. The sun was already making its warmth felt. In less +than five minutes the sweat trickled off his forehead and dropped on +his wrists as he dug with his unhandy trowel and grabbed at the soil. + +Something more than a quarter of an hour had passed when, looking up +for the fiftieth time, he spied the corporal returning down the +grassy slope, alone. By this time his job was nearly done; and after +finishing it he had the presence of mind to dig up a quart or so of +potatoes and spread them over the gold coins in his sack. + +"What in thunder's your hurry?" demanded the corporal, halting for a +moment on the crest of the rise and gazing down. "I told you as I'd +fetch a party to clear the patch for you; an', what's more, the spuds +shall be delivered to your door sometime this very day. But the +Captain can't spare a man this side o' nine o'clock, an' so I was to +tell you." He descended the slope, mopping his brow. "Pretty good +tubers?" + +Nicky-Nan hypocritically dived a hand into the sack, drew forth a +fistful, and held them out in his open palm. + +"Ay, and a very tidy lot," the corporal nodded. "And what might be +the name of 'em?" + +"_Duchess o' Cornwall_ they're called: one o' the new Maincrops, an' +one o' the best. East-country grown. You may pull half a dozen or +so for yourself if you'll do me the favour to accept 'em." + +"Thank 'ee, friend. There's nothin' I relish more than a +white-fleshed 'taty, well-grown an' well-boiled. Not a trace o' +disease anywhere," observed the corporal, running his eye over the +rows and bringing it to rest on the newly-turned soil at his feet. +"Eh? Hullo!" + +He stooped and picked up a sovereign. + +"That's mine!" Nicky-Nan claimed it hastily. "I must ha' dropped +it--" + +"Well, _I_ didn', anyway--an' that's honest." The corporal handed it +over with just a trace of reluctance. "But it only shows," he added, +eyeing Nicky-Nan thoughtfully, "as there's nothing in this world so +deceptive as appearances." + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +THE SECOND SERMON. + + "For Zion's sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem's + sake I will not rest, until the righteousness thereof go forth + as brightness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that + burneth." + + ". . . And thou shalt be called by a new name. . . . Thou shalt + no more be termed _Forsaken_; neither shall thy land be termed + _Desolate_: but thou shalt be called _Hephzi-bah_, and thy land + _Beulah_: for the Lord delighteth in thee, and thy land shall + be married. . . ." + + ". . . I have set watchmen upon thy walls, O Jerusalem, which + shall never hold their peace day nor night." + + ". . . The Lord hath sworn by his right hand, and by the arm + of his strength, 'Surely I will no more give thy corn to be + meat for thine enemies; and the sons of the stranger shall not + drink thy wine, for the which thou hast laboured. But they + that have gathered it shall eat it, and praise the Lord; and + they that have brought it together shall drink it . . . in the + courts of my holiness.'" + + "Go through, go through the gates; prepare ye the way of the + people; cast up, cast up the highway; gather out the stones; + lift up a standard for the people." + + "Behold, the Lord hath proclaimed unto the end of the world, + 'Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh; + behold, his reward is with him,' and his work before him. + And they shall call them 'The Holy People, the Redeemed of the + Lord,' and thou shalt be called, '_Sought out, A City Not + Forsaken_.'" + +Mr Hambly closed the great Book upon the cushion and leaned forward, +resting his arms over it. + +"I want you," said he after a pause, very solemnly and slowly, +"to apply those words not only to ourselves, of whom we are +accustomed to think, too particularly and too complacently, as a +chosen people; but to the whole as the free peoples of Western +Europe, with whom to-day we stand in alliance and as one. If you +apply them at all particularly, let France and Belgium be first in +your minds, with their harvest-fields and vineyards, as you listen to +the Lord's promise, '_By the arm of my strength, surely I will no +more give thy corn to be meat for thine enemies, and the sons of the +stranger shall not drink thy wine for which thou hast laboured_.' + +"For our own land, England, if we are really to vindicate it out of +this struggle as Beulah--that is, 'married,' the bride of the Lord--I +wish you to consider how far the God of this noble oath has advanced +upon the old bloodthirsty Jehovah of the book of Joshua. He is not +yet, in Isaiah, the all-living, all-comprehending God the Father of +the Gospel: but if we halt on Him here, we are already a long way +advanced from that tribal and half-bestial conception of the Deity +which Joshua invoked and (as it seems to me) the German Emperor +habitually invokes. + +"I see no harm in priding ourselves that we have advanced beyond the +German Emperor's schoolboyish conception of Jehovah. As a greater +and far more highly bred and educated Emperor--an Emperor of Rome-- +once warned us, 'The best part of revenge is not to be like them.' + +"Well, that is the point on which I would specially caution you this +morning. When an adversary suddenly and brutally assaults us, his +ferocity springing from the instinct of a lower civilisation--as when +a farm-dog leaps upon us in the road--our first instinct is to fall +back and meet him on the ground of his own savagery, to give him an +exact tit for his tat. But can you not see that, as we do this, and +in proportion as we do it, we allow him to impose himself on us and +relinquish our main advantage? It is idle to practise a higher moral +code, if we abandon it hurriedly as soon as it is challenged by a +lower. + +"Bearing this in mind, you will not in the next few minutes say to +yourselves, 'Our minister has ill chosen his time--now, with the +enemy at our gates--to be preaching to us that we should be +confirming what little hold we have on the divine purpose, to advance +upon it; to counsel our striving to pierce further into the mind of +God; when all the newspapers tell us that, for success in war, we +should enter into the minds of our enemies.' + +"For, let me tell you, all knowledge is one under God; and the way of +theology--which should be the head and crown of the sciences--not +different from the way of what we call the 'natural' sciences, such +as chemistry, or geology, or medicine. Of wisdom we may say with +Ecclesiasticus: _The first man knew her not perfectly, neither shall +the last man find her out_. But that does not matter. What matters +for us, in our generation, is that we improve our knowledge and use +it to make ourselves _comparatively_ wiser--comparatively, that is, +with our old selves as well as with our enemies. 'Knowledge,' they +say, 'is power'; which, if it mean anything, must mean that A, by +knowing a little more than B, has made himself, to that extent, more +powerful than B. + +"Now by saying that the way of all the sciences is one, I mean just +this: that the true process of each is to refer effects to their real +causes, not to false ones, and in the search to separate what is +relevant from what is irrelevant and--so far as we can discover-- +quite accidental. For example, when a pestilence such as typhoid +fever broke out in Polpier five or six hundred years ago, your +forefathers attributed it to the wrath of God visiting them for their +sins: and to be sure it is good that men, under calamity, should +reflect on their sins, but only because it is good for them to +reflect on their sins at all times and under any circumstance. +Nowadays you would have your well-water analysed and ask what the +Sanitary Inspector had been about. Or, again, if a fire were to +devastate our little town, we should not smite our breasts in the +manner of those same forefathers, and attribute it to what there is +amongst us of sloth and self-indulgence, to God's wrath upon our +drinking habits or our neglect of Sunday observance: we should trace +it to a foul chimney and translate our discovery into a Bye-law, +maybe into a local Fire Brigade. That is how men improve their +knowledge, and, through their knowledge, their wellbeing--by sifting +out what is relevant. + +"Do you suppose that irrelevances account for this war any more than +they account for a fire or a pestilence; or that they will any more +help us to grapple with it? Truly it would seem so," sighed Mr +Hambly. "A great deal of fervid stuff was uttered in England last +Sunday by archbishops, bishops, presidents of this and that Free +Church; and the 'religious newspapers' have been full of these +utterances. God forgive my presumption that, as I walk the streets +of Polpier, I seem to hear all these popular men preaching with +acceptance about nothing in particular! + +"They all start by denouncing or deploring Germany's obvious sins: +her exaltation of Might against Right, her lust of world-dominion, +the ruthlessness of her foreign policy, the vainglorious boastings of +her professors. No great harm in this!--for all these have +contributed to bring this war about, and are therefore relevant. +But when the preacher turns to the examination--for us so much more +profitable--of _our own sins_, what has the preacher to say? Why, +always in effect that, though it passeth comprehension why Germany +should be chosen to punish us (being so much worse than ourselves), +we deserve punishment somehow for our drinking, swearing, and +gambling habits, for the state of the poor in our cities, for our +worship of wealth, for having a Liberal Government. . . . + +"Absurd as it may seem, that last gets nearest to sense; for wars are +made, or at any rate accepted by, governments; and in a democratic +country the government of the day represents the nation, or the +nation is to blame. But believe me, my friends, God does not punish +in this haphazard way. He punishes scientifically; or rather he +allows men to punish themselves, by reaping the evil from the cause +they have planted or neglected to remove: and the harvest comes true +to the seed. + +"The War as yet is scarcely a week old. It came upon us like a thief +in the night, and as yet none of us can tell how far we are +blameworthy. We have not the evidence. + +"There will be time enough, when we have it, to search out the true +reasons for national penitence. I do not believe in being penitent +at haphazard: I have too much respect for that spiritual exercise. +Still less do I believe in running up to God's mercy-seat with a +lapful of unassorted sins and the plea, 'Dear Lord, we are doubtless +guilty of all these. Being in affliction, we are probably right in +believing that one or more of them has provoked Thy displeasure, and +are ready to do penance for any if it will please Thee to specify. +Meanwhile, may we suggest horse-racing or profane language?' +We may be sure, _then_, that the sin suggested, as a conjurer forces +a card, is not a relevant one. We may be fairly sure also that it is +one with which some neighbour is more chargeable than are we +ourselves. The priests of Baal were foolish to cut themselves with +knives, but it is to be set to their credit that they used real ones. + +"You will observe that Isaiah constantly, in his words of highest +promise to her, speaks of Zion as to be redeemed, and her glory as +something to be restored: which implies that her bliss will lie, not +in acquiring some new possession, but in regaining a something she +has lost or forfeited. Have we of England in our day built such a +Jerusalem that merely _to have it again_ is our dearest hope for the +end of this War? + +"I come back to my main proposition, and will conclude with one word +of immediate practical advice--the best I can offer, as a plain man, +in these days when the minds of all are confused. + +"My main proposition is that, all knowledge being one in its process, +our best chance of reading God's mind lies in thinking just as +practically, rationally, relevantly about divine things as scientific +men take care to do about scientific things, and as you or I should +take care to do about the ordinary things of life. If we only +thought of God as _important_ enough, we should do that as a matter +of course. If _we then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to +our children_ . . . We in England to-day are as yet a long way off +the philosophy of Jesus Christ. That is too hard for us altogether, +it seems. But we ought to be abreast with Isaiah, which is a long +way ahead of Joshua and the German Emperor. + +"For my word of practical advice--I counsel you, as a people, not to +waste time in flurried undiscriminating repentance; not to _fuss_, in +short, until, having learnt where and how you ought to repent, you +can repent effectually. That knowledge may come soon: more likely it +will come late. Meanwhile the danger is instant. Every man in this +church," concluded Mr Hambly, "has a strong sense--a conviction, +which I share--that the cause of England is right, that she is +threatened and calls to him as he has never heard her call in his +lifetime: and the call is to fight for her, but as men not straying +to learn a new gospel of hate, remembering rather what at the best +our Country has been, and proud to vindicate that." + + +"Silly old rigmarole," commented Miss Oliver on the way home. +"If you can tell me what it was all about!" + +"If 'twas no worse than silly there'd be no harm done. When it comes +to hinting that the Almighty hasn't a purpose of His own for typhoid +fever, in my opinion it's time some one made a public protest." + +"I don't see what good that would do. On his own showing it 'd lie +between the Lord an' Scantlebury, the Sanitary Inspector. He'd no +business to speak so pointed: an' I always hate personalities for my +part. But I daresay Scantlebury won't mind, if it comes to his ears +even--" + +"Scantlebury!" exclaimed Mrs Polsue with a sniff. "He only got the +job through his son's being a local preacher and him a freemason. +Do you think Scantlebury could make typhoid fever, if he tried?" + +"Well, no; if you put it in that way. A Board School was as high as +ever his parents could afford to send him: and then he went into the +greengrocery, and at one time was said to be going to fail for over +three hundred, when this place was found for him. A fair-spoken +little man, but scientific in no sense o' the word." + +There was a pause. + +"The silly man collected himself towards the end," said Mrs Polsue. +"There was sense enough in what he said about every man's duty just +now--that it was to fight, not to argue; though, after his manner, he +didn't pitch it half strong enough. . . . I've been thinking that +very thing over, Charity Oliver, ever since the Vicarage meetin', and +it seems to me that if we're to be an Emergency Committee in anything +better than name, our first business should be to stir up the young +men to enlist. The way these tall fellows be hangin' back, and their +country callin' out for them! There's young Seth Minards, for +instance; an able-bodied young man if ever there was one. But I +don't mind telling you I'm taking some steps to stir up their +consciences." + +"I did hear," said her friend sweetly, "that you had been stirring up +the women. In fact it reached me, dear, that Mrs Penhaligon had +already chased you to the door with a besom--and she the mildest +woman, which no doubt you reckoned on for a beginning. But if you +mean to tackle the young men as well--though I can't call to mind +that the Vicarage meetin' set it down as any part of your duties--" + +"I don't take my orders from any Vicarage meeting," snapped Mrs +Polsue; "not at any time, and least of all in an emergency like +this, when country and conscience call me together to a plain duty. +As for Mrs Penhaligon, you were misinformed, and I advise you to be +more careful how you listen to gossip. The woman was insolent, but +she did _not_ chase me--as you vulgarly put it, no doubt repeating +your informant's words--she did _not_ chase me out of doors with a +besom. On the contrary, she gave me full opportunity to say what I +thought of her." + +"Yes; so I understood, dear: and it was after that, and in +consequence (as I was told) that she--" + +"If you are proposing, Charity Oliver, to retail this story to +others, you may drag in a besom if you will. But as a fact Mrs +Penhaligon resorted to nothing but bad language, in which she was +backed up by her co-habitant, or whatever you prefer to call him, the +man Nanjivell." + +"Yes, I heard that he took a hand in it." "There you are right. He +took a hand in it to the extent of informing me that Mrs Penhaligon +was under his charge, if you ever heard anything so brazen. . . . +I have often wondered," added Mrs Polsue, darkly musing, "why Polpier +has not, before this, become as one of the Cities of the Plain." + +"Have you?" asked Miss Oliver. "If I let such a thought trouble my +head, I'd scarce close an eye when I went to bed." + +"But what puzzles me," went on Mrs Polsue, "is how that Nanjivell +found the pluck. Every one knows him for next door to a pauper: and +yet he spoke up, as if he had pounds an' to spare." + +"Perhaps you irritated him," suggested Miss Oliver. "Everybody knows +that, poor as folks may be, if you try to set them right beyond a +certain point--" + +The two ladies, in this amiable converse, had drawn near to the +bridge-end. They were suddenly aware of a party of six soldiers in +khaki, headed by a corporal, advancing over the bridge in file. +Each pair of soldiers carried between them a heavy sack, swinging it +slowly as they marched. + +The ladies drew aside, curious. The soldiers halted in front of the +Old Doctor's House. The corporal--a stout man--walked into the +porch-way and knocked. + +Mrs Penhaligon answered the knock, and after a short colloquy was +heard to call back into the passage summoning Mr Nanjivell. + +In half a minute Nicky-Nan hobbled out. Meanwhile, their passage +over the bridge being clear ahead, our two ladies had no good excuse +for lingering. Yet they lingered. When all was said and done, no +such sight as that of seven soldiers in khaki had been witnessed in +Polpier within living memory. The child population of Polpier was +indoors, expectant of dinner; and the squad missed the compliment of +attention that would certainly have been paid it ten minutes earlier +or an hour later. + +"Here are your spuds," announced Corporal Sandercock, "with the +Commandin' Officer's compliments." He paused, seemingly in wrestle +with an inward reluctance. He plunged his right hand into his +breeches pocket. "And here," said he, "be two sovereigns picked up +in addition to the one you dropped this mornin'. It softens my +surprise a bit," Corporal Sandercock added, "now that I see the house +you occupy, and," with a glance at Mrs Penhaligon--"the style you +maintain. But for a man o' seemin'ly close habits, you're terribly +flippant with your loose gold." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +FEATHERS. + +When Polpier folk had occasion to talk of soldiers and soldiering--a +far-away theme to which the mind seldom wandered--their eyes would +become pensive and their voices take an accent of pity tinged with +gentle contempt. 'There were such men. People back inland, among +various strange avocations, followed this one; at a shilling a-day, +too!' Some months before, as young Seth Minards happened to be +dandering along the western cliff-track, he was met and accosted by +an officer in uniform, who asked him many questions about the coast, +its paths, the coves where a boat might be beached in moderate +weather, &c., and made notes on the margin of a map. "Who was that +tall chap I see'd 'ee in talk with, up by th' Peak?" asked Un' Benny +Rowett later in the day. "A Cap'n Something-or-other," answered +Seth; "I didn't catch his full name." "Walked over from Troy, I +s'pose? Queer how these ship-cap'ns enjoy stretchin' their legs +after a passage--the furriners especially. But there! 'tis nat'ral." +"He wasn' a ship-cap'n." "What? a mine-cap'n?--ay, to be sure, that +accounts for the colour of his clothes. . . . Out o' work, was he? +There's been a lot o' distress down in the Minin' District lately." +"You're wrong again," said Seth: "he's a gun-sojer, or so he told +me." "What, an _army_-cap'n? . . . But I oft to ha' guessed. +Come to think, he didn' look scarcely more 'n that." + +Polpier, indeed, had not seen a troop of soldiers since the +Napoleonic era, when (as has been related) the Old Doctor raised a +company of Volunteer Artillery. Here we were, after more than a +hundred years, at war again for what the newspapers called "our +national existence"; and behold within five days Polpier had become a +centre of military activity! The people, who during those five days +had talked more about the career of arms and those who followed it +than in five decades before, had insensibly--or, at least, without +sense of inconsistency--passed from amused contempt to a lively +interest, even though in speech they kept to the old tone of light +cynicism. Nor was this tone affected to cover a right-about-face; it +simply meant that a habit of speech could not quite so quickly as a +habit of thought adapt itself to retreat. + +Of a sudden, and almost before it could own to this nascent interest, +Polpier found itself flattered and exalted to military importance. +That Sunday afternoon the whole town pretermitted its afternoon nap +and flocked up past the Warren to view the camp. As Miss Oliver +observed, "It was an object-lesson: it brought home some of the +realities of war to you." + +"_Some_," agreed Mrs Polsue. "If I was you, dear, I wouldn' gush +over such things, but rather pray the Lord against sendin' too many +of 'em. It wouldn' altogether surprise me," she added darkly, "if +the after-consequences of this was worse than any Revival Meetin'." + +The O.C. had very wisely let it be known that, though in future it +would be necessary to draw lines about his encampment, station +guards, and allow entrance only by written permit, on this first day +the public were welcome to roam among the tents and satisfy their +curiosity. His company might be stationed here for some months to +come, and he wished to start on neighbourly terms. He had been told, +moreover, that Polpier as a recruiting-ground was virgin soil. +His sappers were instructed, therefore, to make every one welcome, +and especially any likely-looking young men who asked questions or +otherwise showed an interest. + +Curiously enough--and strangely, unless you know Polpier and +West-country people--it was the likely-looking young men who hung +back and showed least interest that afternoon. A few of them who had +sweethearts were jealous, perhaps: it is not pleasant when the girl +you love suddenly abstracts from you the Sunday attention on which +you have come to count and transfers it enthusiastically--even if +generally--to a number of young strangers, artlessly surrendering to +a certain glamour in them because they are doing what never occurred +to you. + +But in the main these young men hung back just because they were +interested; because, being interested, they were shy. This camp +spoke, or should speak, to _them_: its business, its proper meaning, +could only be for _them_. They could not lay full account with the +feeling. But these old men conning the gear and shaking heads so +wisely--these middle-aged Sabbath couples pacing around and hanging +on heel to wonder how the soldiers packed themselves at night into +quarters so narrow, or advancing and peering among utensils of +cookery--most of all the young women giggling while they wondered at +this, that, or the' other,--all were impertinent to the scene. +Whatever War signified, it was a mystery for men, and for young men. + +The crowd thinned towards five o'clock, which is Polpier's Sunday +hour for tea. On a tussock of thyme above Nicky-Nan's freshly +cleared patch--the very tussock on which Corporal Sandercock had +rested that morning--young Obed Pearce, the farmer's son, sat and +sucked at a pipe of extinct tobacco. Hunger of heart had dragged him +down to have a look at the camp: then, coming in full sight of it, he +had halted as before the presence of something holy, to which he +dared approach no nearer. + +He had arrived somewhat late in the afternoon, as the thick of the +crowd was dispersing. He had no young woman to bring with him, to +allay her curiosity. Farmers' sons marry late, and are deliberate in +choosing. It is the traditional rule. Young fishermen, on the other +hand, claim their sweethearts early and settle down to a long +probation of walking-out, waiting their turn while, by process of +nature, old people die and cottages fall empty. + +Such is economic law in Polpier: and in accordance with it young Obed +Pearce sat and drew at his pipe alone: whereas when young Seth +Minards, by two years his junior, came along at a slow walk with +hands deep in his trouser-pockets and no maiden on his arm or by his +side, Obed felt no incongruity in challenging him. + +"Hullo, young Seth! Not found a maid yet?" + +"No: nor likely to." Young Seth halted. If he had not found a damsel +it was not for lack of good looks. He had a face for a Raphael to +paint; the face of a Stephen or a Sebastian; gloomed over just now, +as he halted with his shoulders to the sunset. "I can't think o' +such things in these times, Mr Obed." + +"Nor me," said the farmer's son, discovering that his pipe was out +and feeling in his pocket for a box of matches. + +"There's no hurry for you, Mr Obed." "Isn't there? . . . Well, I +suppose not, thank goodness! Here, take a fill o' baccy an' tell me +what you think of it. I mean, o' course"--with a jerk of his hand +towards the camp--"what you think o' that there?" + +"I wish I could tell 'ee offhand," answered Seth after a pause, +carefully filling his pipe. "I was puzzlin' it over as I came +along." + +"I see nothing to puzzle, for a man placed as you be," said Obed, +drawing hard on his pipe. "If you had a father and a mother, now, +both draggin' hard on your coat-tails--My God!" he broke off, staring +at the sappers moving on the hillside. "What wouldn't I give to be +like any o' those?" + +"If you feel it like that," Seth encouraged him, "the way's plain, +surely? Father nor mother--no, nor wife nor child, if I had 'em-- +could hinder me." + +"What hinders you then, lucky man?" Seth smoked for a while in +silence. "I don't think as I'd answer 'ee," he said at length +quietly, "if I thought my answerin' would carry weight in your mind. +_You_ to call me lucky!--when your way's clear, and all you want is +the will." + +"We'll pass that," said Obed. "To you, that have none at home to +hinder, ben't the way clear?" + +"Since you ask me, 'tis not; or if clear, clear contrary." + +"How should that be, in God's name?" + +"I'd rather you didn' ask." + +"But I do. . . . Look here, Seth Minards, I'm in trouble: and I don't +know how 'tis, but you're the sort o' chap one turns to. Sit down, +now, like a friend." + +Seth seated himself on the turf. "It's a strange thing, is War," +said he after a pause. "All my life I've abominated it--yes, the +very thought of it." + +"All my life," said Obed, "I've reckoned it--I can't tell you why-- +the only test of a man." + +"'Tis an evil thing; yes, to be sure, and a devilish," said Seth, +musing. "Men killing one another--and the widows left, an' the +orphans, on both sides. War's the plainest evil in all the world; +and if I join in it, 'tis to help evil with my eyes open. All my +life, sir, I've held by the Sermon on the Mount." + +"I've read it," said Obed Pearce. "Go on." + +"Without it I'm lost. Then along comes this very worst evil," he +gazed towards the camp on the slope, "and here it is, callin' me in +the name o' my Country, tauntin', askin' me why I can't make up my +mind to be a man!" Seth checked a groan. "You see," he went on, "we +looks at it, sir, in different ways, but they both hurt. I be main +sorry if my own trouble o' mind adds any weight to your'n. But th' +Bible says that, though one man's burden be 'most as heavy as +another's, the pair may halve the whole load by sharin' it--or that's +as I read the tex'." + +Young Obed ground his teeth. "Maybe you haven't to endure _this_ +sort o' thing!" On a fierce impulse he pulled an envelope from his +pocket, seemed to repent, then hardened his courage, and slowly drew +forth--three white feathers, "It came to me this morning, anonymous." +His face was crimson. + +"Maybe I have," answered Seth tranquilly, and produced an envelope +containing three feathers precisely similar. "But what signifies a +dirty trick o' that sort? It only tells what be in some other +unfort'nate person's mind. It don't affect what's in my own," + +"Hullo!" hailed a voice behind them. "Comparin' love-letters, you +young men?" + +The speaker was Nicky-Nan, come to survey the desolation of his +'taty-patch. Young Obed hastily crammed his envelope into his +pocket. But Seth Minards turned about with a frank smile. + +"You may see mine, Mr Nanjivell. Look what some kind friend sent me +this mornin'!" + +"Well, I s'wow!" exclaimed Nicky-Nan, after a silence of +astonishment. "If _I_ didn' get such another Prince o' Wales's +plume, an' this very mornin' too!" + +"You?" cried the two young men together. "See here"--Nicky in his +turn pulled forth an envelope. "But what do it signify at all? +'Tis all a heathen mystery to me." + + +"Well, and how are we getting along?" asked the Vicar two days later, +as he entered the morning-room where his wife sat busily addressing +circulars and notices of sub-committee meetings. + +She looked up, with a small pucker on her forehead. "I suppose it is +drudgery; but do you know, Robert," she confessed, "I really believe +I could get to like this sort of thing in time?" + +He laughed, a trifle wistfully. "And do you know, Agatha, why it is +that clergymen and their wives so seldom trouble the Divorce Court-- +in comparison, we'll say, with soldiers and soldiers' wives? . . . +No, you are going to answer wrong. It isn't because the parsons are +better men--for I don't believe they are." + +"Then it seems to follow that their wives must be better women!" + +"You're wrong again. It's because the wife of a parish priest, even +when she has no children of her own"--here the Vicar winced, flushed, +and went on rapidly--"nine times out of ten has a whole parish to +mother--clothing-clubs, Sunday-school classes, mothers' meetings, +children's outings, choir feasts,--it's all looking after people, +clothing 'em, feeding 'em, patting 'em on the head or boxing their +ears and telling 'em to be good--which is just the sort of business a +virtuous woman delights in. _She riseth also while it is yet night, +and giveth meat to her household and a portion to her maidens_. +'A portion to her maidens'; you see she used to measure out the +butter in Solomon's time." + +"It wouldn't do in this parish," she said with a laugh. "They'd give +notice at once." + +"God forgive me that I brought you to this parish, Agatha!" + +"Now if you begin to talk like that--when I've really made a +beginning!" She pointed in triumph to the stacks of missives on the +writing-table. + +"It's I who bungled, the other day, when I suggested your giving Mrs +Polsue a duplicate list of the names and addresses. I thought it +would please her and save you half the secretarial labour; and now it +appears that you _like_ the secretarial labour!" + +"What has happened?" Mrs Steele asked. "Well, young Obed Pearce rode +over to see me yesterday. He's in great distress of mind, poor +fellow; dying to enlist and serve his country, but held back by his +parents, who won't hear of it. As if this wasn't torture enough, in +the midst of it he gets an envelope by post--addressed in a feigned +hand, and with no letter inside, but just three white feathers." + +"Oh, hateful! Who could be so wicked?" + +"I met Lippity-Libby at the gate this morning. 'Look here,' I said; +'this is a pretty poison you are sowing on your rounds': and I showed +him the feathers which young Obed had left with me. 'I know you +can't help it,' said I, 'but if the Post Office can stop and open +suspected circulars, surely it can refuse to help this abomination!' +'I've delivered pretty well a score, sir,' said he; 'and I wish you +or some person would write to the papers and stop it.' 'Well,' I +said, 'it's not for me to ask if you have a guess who sends this sort +of thing about?' He rubbed his chin for a while and then answered: +`No, Parson; nor 'tisn't for me to tell 'ee if I do: but if you +_should_ happen to be strollin' down t'wards the Quay, you might take +a look at Mrs Polsue's Cochin-China hens. The way them birds have +been moultin' since the War started--'" + +"Robert! You don't tell me that woman plucks the poor things alive!" + +"Ay: and takes the bleeding quills to draw more blood from young +men's hearts." + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +I-SPY-HI! + +At certain decent and regular intervals of time (we need not indicate +them more precisely) Mrs Polsue was accustomed to order in from the +Three Pilchards a firkin of ale. A firkin, as the reader probably +knows, is the least compromising of casks, and Mr Latter regularly +attended in person to "spile" it. Mrs Polsue as regularly took care +to watch the operation. + +"The newspaper tells me," said she, "that this is likely to be a +teetotal War." + +"Tell me another, ma'am!" answered Mr Latter in his unconventional +way. + +"It would be an excellent thing for our troops in the field: and, if +you ask my opinion, a little mortifying of the spirit would do the +working classes of this country a deal of good. I take a glass of +ale myself, under medical advice, because cold water disagrees with +me, and I've never yet had the aerated drink recommended that wasn't +followed by flatulence." + +"There's neither mirth nor music in 'em" agreed Mr Latter. + +"I do not seek either mirth or music in the little I make use of," +Mrs Polsue corrected him; "and on general grounds I agree with total +abstinence." + +[In this the lady said no more than the truth. She had lamented, +scores of times, an infirmity of the flesh which, forbidding her to +chastise the indulgence of moderate drinking, protected a truly +enormous class of fellow-creatures from her missionary disapproval. +Often and often she had envied Charity Oliver, who could consume tea +with hot sausages and even ham rashers. "To have the stomach of an +ostrich must be a privilege indeed," she had once assured her friend; +"though to be sure it tells on the complexion, forcing the blood to +the face; so that (from a worldly point of view) at a distance a +different construction might be put on it."] + +"Tea with sausages, for instance!" + +"The same here--Poison!" Mr Latter agreed, delicately indicating +where "here" lay for him. + +"My father ever kept a generous table, which he was in a position to +afford." Mrs Polsue sighed, and added with resignation, "I suppose +we must say that the fathers have eaten sour grapes and the +children's teeth are set on edge." + +"I wouldn' put it just like that, ma'am-not from what I've heard of +the old gentleman's knowledge o' liquor." + +"It will bear hardly on you, Latter, if the King and Parliament +should put the country under Prohibition?" + +["Drabbet the old cat!" murmured Mr Latter to himself. +"She's fishing to get at my banking account, and a lot she'd +interfere if 'twas the workhouse with me to-morrow."] + +Aloud he said, rubbing his thumb on the edge of the augur and +preparing to make incision upon the cask, "Well, ma'am, I reckon as +the Lord will provide mortification enough for us before we're out o' +this business, without our troublin' to get in ahead. The way I +looks at it is, 'Let's be cheerful.' In my experience o' life there's +no bank like cheerfulness for a man to draw upon, to keep hisself fit +and industrious. What's more--if I may say it--'most every staid +man, afore he gets to forty, has pretty well come to terms with his +innards. He knows--if you'll excuse the figger o' speech, ma'am-- +what's the pressure 'pon the boiler, an' how to stoke it. +There's folks," said Mr Latter delicately, "as can't stoke hot tea +upon sossiges: an' likewise there's folks as'll put forth their best +on three goes o' whisky. So why not live an' let live?" + +"They say," answered Mrs Polsue, "that the Czar has been advised to +prohibit the sale of vodka throughout his vast dominion." + +"What's the beverage, ma'am? I don't seem to know it." + +"Vodka." + +"Oh, well: very likely he has his reasons. . . . It sounds a long way +off." + +"But that," Mrs Polsue persisted, reproducing what she had +assimilated from her newspaper,--"_that_ is what folks in Polpier +cannot be made to understand. At this moment the Germans are nearer +than we are to London, as the crow flies; and here are our working +classes living on honey and roses, like a City of the Plain. +What are our young men thinking about?" + +"Why, ma'am," said Mr Latter, by this time busy with the cask, +"they're takin' it slow, I'll own, an' they don't say much. To begin +with, 'tis their natur'; an' next, 'tis a bit more they risk than you +or me, if I may make bold to say so. Then there's the mothers an' +sweethearts pullin' 'em back." + +"Tut! If _I_ had a sweetheart--" + +"Oh, certainly, ma'am!" agreed Mr Latter. "That if wars there had +been, you'd have driven him to the nearest, I make no doubt at all; +though your departed--if I may make so bold--was never the sort to +hurt a fly. . . . Though, by God," wound up Mr Latter in an inaudible +murmur as he blew the sawdust from the vent-hole, "the man must have +had pluck, too, in his way!" + +"There's worse bein' done by Polpier women than holding the men back. +_I_ call it worse, at any rate, to send your wedded husband off to +fight for his country and then pick up with another man for +protection." + +"Can such goin's-on go on in our midst, ma'am, and nothing about in +the shape o' fire and brimstone?" + +"I am not retailing gossip, Mr Latter. I tell you no more than was +openly said to me, and brazenly, before witnesses, by one of the +parties involved. As one of the Relief Committee appointed to see +that none of our reservists' families are suffering want, I called +the other day upon Samuel Penhaligon's wife. From the first the +woman showed no sense of our respective positions; and after a +question or two she became so violent that it drew quite a small +crowd around the door. In the midst of her tirading out steps her +partner--" + +"What? Sam?" + +"How should it be Samuel Penhaligon, when you know as well as I do +that he's gone to the War? No: the man, I regret to say, was +Nicholas Nanjivell." + +"Nicky-Nan? . . . Oh, come, ma'am, I say! Why, what capers could _he_ +been cuttin'?" + +"I feel justified in speaking of him as her partner, seeing that he +avowed as much. She was living under his protection, he said, and he +would see that she didn't come to want. He had even the effrontery +to assure me that he had made an arrangement with Penhaligon. +But that, I feel sure, was a shameless lie, and my ears tingle to +hear myself repeating it. 'Twas hard enough to keep one's temper +with the man standing there and talking big as my lord, when the +Almighty knows if for these two years he's seen the colour of a +sovereign. . . . Eh? What ails you?" she demanded, as Mr Latter, who +had been testing the point of the auger with his thumb, gave a sudden +and violent start. + +"Thank 'ee, ma'am--there's no blood drawn, as it happens," said Mr +Latter, "but 'twas nibby-jibby,[1] the way you outed with it, and +took me of a heap. If you'd ever happened now to stand up to a man +and him gettin' his fist full on your wind--no, you _wouldn't_, o' +course. But 'twas a knock-out. . . . 'Nicky-Nan,' says you, 'an'not +a sovereign to bless hisself'--Why the man's fairly _leakin_ +sovereigns!--sheddin' 'em about like fish-scales!" + +"Mr Latter--are you _intoxicated?_" + +"I wish I was, ma'am. 'Twould be some kind of an explanation, though +mebbe not the most satisfactory. . . . When I tell you that the man +walked into my bar, three days since, an' scattered sovereigns all +over my floor! When I tell you he couldn' pull out a han'kerchief to +blow his nose but he _sneezed_ sovereigns!" + +Mrs Polsue gasped. + +"--When I tell you," Mr Latter pursued, flourishing his auger and +rapping it on the flat of his palm, "that one o' these soldiers--a +Corporal too, and named Sandercock--was talkin' in my bar not two +hours ago, an' says he, 'You've a man called Nanjivell lives here by +the bridge.' 'Ay,' says I. 'Bit of an eccentric?' says he. 'How?' +says I. 'The way he drops his gold about,' says the Corporal. +'Ho?' says I, prickin' up my ears, but not choosin' to be talkative +with a stranger. 'So folks have been tellin' you that story +already?' says I. '_Tellin_ me?' says he. 'Why, I see'd it with my +own eyes!' 'Come,' thinks I to myself, 'this fellow's a bra' bit of +a liar, wherever he hails from.' 'With my own eyes,' he repeats. +'I see'd 'en drop a sovereign in gold, up by that 'taty-patch of his +where the Company's runnin' a trench: an' later on, as I started +clearin' his crop, I came on two more in the soil, just where he'd +been standin'. 'Hullo!' thinks I, 'this ben't the same story, but +another one altogether.' I didn't say that aloud, though. What I +said aloud was, 'You mustn't take notice of everything you see +Nicky-Nan do. 'Tis only his tricks.' 'Tricks?' says the Corporal. +'If a man behaved like that down to Penryn we should call 'en an +eccentric.' That's the tale, ma'am: an' the best part o' last night, +what with puttin' two an' two together an' makin' neither head nor +tail of it, I scarce closed an eye in my head." + +"I saw the man,"--Mrs Polsue, after a sharp intake of breath, said it +slowly in a hushed tone of surmise. "On Sunday, on my way home from +service, I saw him hand the money over. I wasn't near enough to +catch all that passed in the way of conversation. But the soldiers +were delivering a quantity of potatoes they had dug up in the man's +patch, and I concluded that Government, in its wasteful way, was +paying him some sort of compensation over and above saving his crop +for him. I remember saying to Miss Oliver that somebody ought to +write to the War Office about it. . . . A man that already takes the +taxpayers' money for pretending to be a Reservist, and then, when war +breaks out, prefers to skulk at home in open sin or next door to it!" + +"I wouldn't go so far as all that, ma'am," said Mr Latter. "In fact, +I b'lieve you're under some mistake about Mrs Penhaligon, who is +reckoned as vartuous a woman as any in the parish; while 'tis known +that no doctor'd pass Nanjivell for service. But if you ask me, I've +a great idea the man has come into a legacy, or else struck a store +of gold--" + +The landlord checked his tongue abruptly. Some phrase about a +'taty-patch floated across his memory. Had the phrase been his own, +or Nicky-Nan's? He must give himself time to think this out, for it +might well be the clue. The Corporal had spoken of finding two of +the three sovereigns under the soil. . . . While Mr Latter's brain +worked, he cast a quick glance at Mrs Polsue, in fear that he had +gone too far. + +But, although she had heard him, it happened that Mrs Polsue's mind +was working on a widely divergent scent. She also was preoccupied +with something that haunted her memory: a paragraph in that morning's +newspaper. She, too, had no present intention of unveiling her +surmise. + +"Nonsense!" she said. "Folks don't happen on buried treasure in +Polpier; and you can't have a legacy without its getting into the +papers." + +Mr Latter had no sooner departed than she put on her bonnet and paid +a call on her friend Miss Charity Oliver. + + +"If Mr Pamphlett were only a magistrate--" said Mrs Polsue, after +telling her story. "He was as good as promised it before the +Unionists went out of office, as his services to the party well +deserved. _This_ Government appoints none but its own creatures. + . . . And Squire Tresawna living three miles away--with the chance, +when you get there, of finding he's not at home--" + +"You might send him a letter," suggested Miss Oliver. + +"One has to be very careful what one puts down on paper," said Mrs +Polsue. "I don't want to compromise myself unnecessarily, even for +the sake of my country. A personal interview is always more +advisable . . . But, apart from the distance, I don't fancy the idea +of consulting the Squire. He dislikes hearing ill of anybody. Oh, I +quite agree!--If he takes that line, he has no business on the Bench. +What else is a magistrate _for?_" + +"Well, dear, I don't know much about the law. But I've heard it laid +down as a rule that every man is supposed to be innocent until you +prove that he's guilty--" + +"And I never could understand why," Mrs Polsue interjected; "seeing +that five out of every six persons charged are found guilty. To my +mind the law would be more sensible if it learnt by experience and +took some account of the odds." + +"There's a good deal to be said for that, no doubt," Miss Oliver +agreed. "But the Squire--or any other magistrate, for that matter-- +will look on the law as it stands; and if you are going to lay +information against Nicholas Nanjivell--" + +"Who said I wanted to lay information? Why should any private person +undertake such unpleasantness, when it's the plain duty of the +police, and in fact what they're paid for." + +"Then why not leave it to Rat-it-all?" + +"I believe I will, after giving him a hint. . . . But you don't seem +to _see_, Charity Oliver!" her friend exploded. "What you are +arguing may do well enough for ordinary times. These are not +ordinary times. With all the newspapers declaring that our country +is riddled with German spies--positively riddled--" + +"I don't believe the man's capable of it, even if he had the will." + +"Then, perhaps, if you're so clever, you'll suggest a likelier +explanation?" + +"He may have won the money in a lottery," Miss Oliver suggested +brightly. "One of those Hamburg affairs--if you insist that the +money's German." + +"I don't insist on anything," snapped Mrs Polsue. "I only say, +first, there's a mystery here, and you can't deny it. Secondly, +we're at war,--you'll agree to that, I hope? That being so, it's +everybody's business to take precautions and inform the authorities +of _anything_ that looks suspicious. The more it turns out to be +smoke without fire, the more obliged the man ought to be to us for +giving him the chance to clear his character." + +"Well, I hope you won't start obliging _me_ in that way," Miss Oliver +was ever slow at following logic. "Because I never put a shilling +into a lottery in my life, though I've more than once been in two +minds. But in those days Germany always seemed so far off, and their +way of counting money in what they call Marks always struck me as so +unnatural. Marks was what you used to get at school--like sherbet +and such things." + +"Charity Oliver--may the Lord forgive me, but sometimes I'm tempted +to think you no better than a fool!" + +"The Vicar doesn't think so," responded Miss Oliver complacently. +"He called this morning to ask me if I'd add to my public duties by +allowing him to nominate me on the Relief Committee, which wants +strengthening." + +"Did he say _that?_" Mrs Polsue sat bolt erect. + +"Well, I won't swear to the words. . . . Let me see. No, his actual +words were that it wanted a little new blood to give it tact. I will +say that Mr Steele has a very happy way of putting things. . . . +So you really _are_ going to lay information, Mary-Martha? If you +see your duty so clear, I can't think why you troubled to consult +me." + +"I shall do my duty," declared Mrs Polsue. "Without taking further +responsibility, I shall certainly put Rat-it-all on the look-out." + + +That same evening, a little before sunset, Nicky-Nan took a stroll +along the cliff-path towards his devastated holding, to see what +progress the military had made with their excavations. The trench, +though approaching his boundary fence, had not yet reached it. +Somewhat to his surprise he found Mr Latter there, in the very middle +of his patch, examining the turned earth to right and left. + +"Hullo!" cried Nicky-Nan, unsuspecting. "_You_ caught the war-fever +too? I never met 'ee so far afield afore. What with your sedentary +figure an' the contempt I've heard 'ee use about soldiers--" + +Mr Latter, as he straightened himself up, appeared to be confused. +He was also red in the face, and breathed heavily. Nicky-Nan noted, +but innocently misread, these symptoms. + +"Good friable soil you got here," said Mr Latter, recovering a +measure of self-possession. "Pretty profitable little patch, unless +I'm mistaken." + +"It was," answered Nicky. "But though, from your habits, you're +about the last man I'd have counted on findin' hereabouts, I'm main +glad, as it happens. A superstitious person might go so far as to +say you'd dropped from heaven." + +"Why so?" + +Nicky-Nan cast a glance over his shoulder. "We're neighbours here?" + +"Certainly," agreed Mr Latter, puzzled, and on his defence. + +"Noticed anything strange about Rat-it-all, of late?" + +"Rat-it-all?" + +"You wish friendly to him, eh? . . . I ask because, as between the +police and licensed victuallers--" Nicky-Nan hesitated. + +"You may make your mind easy," Mr Latter assured him. "Rat-it-all +wouldn't look over a blind. I've no complaint to make of Rat-it-all, +and never had. But what's happened to him?" + +"I wish I knew," answered Nicky-Nan. "I glimpsed him followin' me, +back along the path; an' when I turned about for a chat, he dodged +behind a furze-bush like as if he was pouncin' on some valuable +butterfly. 'That's odd,' I thought: for I'd never heard of his +collectin' such things. But he's often told me how lonely a +constable feels, an' I thought he might have picked up wi' the habit +to amuse himself. So on I walked, waitin' for him to catch me up; +an' by-an'-by turned about to look for en. There he was, on the +path, an' be damned if he didn' dodge behind another bush! I wonder +if 'tis sunstroke? It always seemed to me those helmets must be a +tryin' wear." + +"I dunno. . . . But here he is! Let's ask him," said Mr Latter as +Policeman Rat-it-all appeared on the ridge with body bent and using +the gait of a sleuth-hound Indian. [There is no such thing as a +sleuth-hound Indian, but none the less Rat-it-all was copying him.] + +"Hullo, Rat-it-all!" + +The constable straightened himself up and approached with an affected +air of jauntiness. + +"Why, whoever would ha' thought to happen on _you_ two here?" he +exclaimed, and laughed uneasily. + +"Sure enough the man's manner isn't natural," said Mr Latter to +Nicky-Nan. "Speakin' as a publican, too," he confided, "I'd be sorry +if anything happened to the chap an' we got a stranger in his place." + +"What's the matter with 'ee, Rat-it-all?" asked Nicky-Nan +sympathetically. "By the way you've been behavin' all up the hill--" + +"You noticed it?" + +"_Noticed_ it!" + +"Rat it all!--I mean, I was hopin' you wouldn't. I begin to see as it +will take more practice than I allowed." He cast a glance back at +the ridge as he seated himself on the turf. "Either of you got a +pinch o' baccy?" + +"Then you _are_n't afflicted in any way?" exclaimed Nicky-Nan with +relief. "But what was the matter with 'ee, just now, that you kept +behavin' so comical?" + +"Got such a thing as a match? . . . Well, I didn' believe it from the +first. You must make allowance," said he as he puffed, "that a +constable has communications in these times, of a certain nature, +calculated to get on his Nerves. For my part, I hate all this +mistrustfulness that's goin'. 'Confidence'--that's my motto-- +'as betwix' man an' man.'" + +[1] A close shave. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +MISS OLIVER PROFFERS ASSISTANCE. + +Although this narrative has faintly attempted to trace it here and +there in operation, no one can keep tally with rumour in Polpier, or +render any convincing account of its secret ways. It were far easier +to hunt thistledown. + +The Penhaligon family were packing, preparing for the great move into +Aun' Bunney's derelict cottage. 'Bert and 'Beida had been given to +understand--had made sure in fact--that the move would be made, at +earliest, in the week before Michaelmas Day. For some reason or +other Mrs Penhaligon had changed her mind, and was hurrying things +forward almost feverishly. 'Beida--who for a year or so had been +taken more and more into her mother's confidence--suddenly found +herself up against a dead wall of mystery and obstinacy. The growing +girl was puzzled--driven to consult 'Bert about it; and a Polpier +woman is driven far before she seeks advice from husband or brother. + +She might have spared herself the humiliation, too. For 'Bert, when +she cornered him, gave no help at all. Yet he was positive enough. +[It takes some experience to discover what painted laths men are.] + +"Some woman's rot!" decided 'Bert with a shrug of his shoulders. +"Father bein' away, she's worryin', an' wants to get it over. +She don't consult me, so I've no call to tell her to take things +cooler." The trumpet, after thus uttering no uncertain sound, tailed +off upon the word 'females.' + +"Get along with your 'females'!" fired up 'Beida, springing to arms +for her sex. "I'd like to know where the world'd be without us. +But don't you see that 'tisn' _like_ Mother to be so daggin' to quit +the old house?" + +"She wants to get the grievin' over, I tell you," 'Bert maintained. + +As for 'Biades, he was rather more--certainly not less--of a nuisance +than children of his age usually are when a family intends a move. +He asked a thousand questions, wandered among packing-cases as in a +maze, and, if his presence were forgotten for a moment, sat down and +howled. On being picked up and righted he would account for his +emotion quite absurdly yet lucidly and in a way that wrung all +hearts. On the second day of packing he looked out from a zareba of +furniture under which he had contrived to crawl, and demanded-- +"What's a Spy?" + +"A Spy?" his mother echoed after he had repeated the question three +or four times. "A Spy is a wicked man: worse nor a Prooshian." + +"What's a Prooshian?" + +"A Prooshian," said Mrs Penhaligon, inverting one bedroom chair on +another, "is a kind o' German, and by all accounts the p'isonest. +A Spy is worse nor even a Prooshian, because he pretends he isn't +till he've wormed hisself into your confidence, an' then he comes out +in his true colours, an' the next thing you know you're stabbed in +the back in the dark." Mrs Penhaligon might miss to be lucid in +explanation, but never to be vivid. + +"What's your 'confidence'?" asked 'Biades, after a digestive pause. + +His sister 'Beida turned about while she bumped herself up and down +in a sitting posture on the lid of an old sea-chest overfilled with +pillows, bed-curtains, and other "soft goods." + +"It isn't your stummick, on which you're crawlin' at this moment like +Satan in the garden. And only yesterday your askin' to be put into +weskits on the ground of your age! A nice business 'twould be to +keep your front in buttons!" While admonishing 'Biades, 'Beida +continued to bump herself on the sea-chest, her speech by consequence +coming in short interrupted gushes like water from a pump. "A Spy," +she continued, "is a man what creeps in a person's belongings same as +you're doin' at this moment, an' then goes off an' gets paid for +writin' to Germany about it: which if we didn' know from bitter +experience as you couldn't spell a, b, 'ab,' we should be feelin' +nervous at this moment, the way you're behavin'." + +"How can you tell a Spy?" persisted 'Biades after another pause, +ignoring reproof. "Does he go about with a gamey leg, like Mr +Nanjivell? Or what?" + +"Don't you set up to laugh at gamey legs or any such infirmity," his +mother warned him, "when there's an All-seein' Eye about; an', for +all we know, around the corner at this moment gettin' ready to strike +you comical." + +"There's no way to tell a Spy at first," added 'Beida; "an' that's +why they're so dangerous. The usual way is that first you have your +suspicions, an' then, some day when he's not lookin', you search his +premises an' the fat's in the fire." + +"What's an infirmity?" asked 'Biades. Getting no answer, after half +a minute he asked, "What's premises?" + +Still there was no answer. With a sigh he wriggled backwards out of +his shelter. Seizing the moment when his sister had at length +pressed down the lid and his mother was kneeling to lock it, he +slipped out of the room and betook himself to the water-side, where +he fell into deep thought. + + +This happened on Tuesday. During Wednesday and the morning of +Thursday the child was extraordinarily well-behaved. As Mrs +Penhaligon observed to her daughter-- + +"You kept warnin' me he'd be a handful, messin' about an' unpackin' +things as soon as they was packed. Whereas if he'd been his own +father, he couldn' ha' been more considerate in keepin' out o' the +way. 'Tis wonderful how their tender intellec's turn steady when +there's trouble in the family." + +"But there isn't." + +"Well, you know what I mean. For the last two days the blessed child +might not ha' been in existence, he's such a comfort." + +"Well," said 'Beida, "you _may_ be right. But I never yet knowed +'Biades quiet for half this time 'ithout there was somebody's bill to +pay at the end o't." + + +That same afternoon as Miss Charity Oliver came down the hill on her +first errand as Relief Visitor, at the corner by Mrs Pengelly's she +happened on young 'Biades, posted solitary before the shop-window. +There was something queer in this: for the elder children had started +a game of tig, down by the bridge--that is to say, within earshot-- +and as a rule any such game attracted 'Biades fatally to its +periphery, where he would stand with his eyes rounded and his heart +sick for the time when he would be grown up and invited to join in. +To-day his back was turned to the fun. + +Miss Oliver, however, knew no more of 'Biades ways than that on her +approach as a rule he either fled precipitately or, if no retreat +offered itself, stood stock-still, put a finger in his mouth, and +seemed to be calling on some effort of the will to make him +invisible. To-day he met her accost easily, familiarly, even with +what in a grown male might have been taken for a drunken leer. + +"Well, my little man!" said Miss Oliver. "And what might you be +doing here, all by yourself?" + +"Choosin'," answered 'Biades. Reluctantly he withdrew his eyes again +from gloating on Mrs Pengelly's miscellaneous exhibits. "I 'spect +it'll end in peppermint lumps, but I'd rather have trousers if a +whole penny would run to 'em." + +He held out his palm, exhibiting a coin over which his fingers +quickly closed again. + +"What's that money you have?" asked Miss Oliver sharply. + +"A penny," answered the child. "A whole penny. I like peppermint +lumps, but they smell so strong in your breath that 'Bert and 'Beida +would find out an' want to share. Of course trousers are found out +quite as easy, or easier. But you can't go shares in trousers: not," +added 'Biades thoughtfully, "if you try ever so." + +"May I see the pretty penny?" coaxed Miss Oliver: for in the glimpse +allowed her it had seemed an extraordinarily bright and yellow one. + +"You mustn' come no nearer than you are now," said 'Biades, backing a +little. After an inward struggle he opened his fingers and disclosed +the coin. + +"Where did you get _that?_" Miss Oliver's eyes were notoriously +sharp. Her voice rapped out the question in a way that made 'Biades +blink and clasp the coin again as he cast a desperate look behind him +in search of retreat. + +"Mr Nanjivell gave it to me." + +"Mr Nanjivell! . . . He couldn't!" Miss Oliver took a step forward. +'Biades lowered his head. + +"If you come a step closer I'll butt 'ee!" He threatened. +"Mr Nanjivell gave it to me," he repeated, and, seeing her taken +aback, soared upon the wing of falsehood. "Mother's changing houses, +an' Mr Nanjivell said I'd behaved so quiet I deserved a penny if ever +a boy did in this world." + +"A penny?" Miss Oliver echoed. "But where did he--how did he come +across that kind of penny? Such a bright penny, I mean." + +"He spat upon it, an' rubbed it on his trousers," answered 'Biades +with a glibness that astonished himself, 'peeking' between his +fingers to make sure that they really held the prize. Inspiration +took the child, once started, and he lied as one lifted far above +earth. "Mr Nanjivell said as it might help me to forget Father's +bein' away at the War. Mr Nanjivell said as I couldn' learn too +early to lay by against a rainy day, and I was to take it to Missis +Pengelly's and if it took the form of trousers he didn' mind. +Mother wanted me to put it in the savings bank, but he wouldn' hear +of it. He said they weren't to be trusted any longer--not savings +banks. He said--" + +"But where did _he_ get it?" + +'Biades blinked, and set his face hardily. He had the haziest +notions of how money was acquired. But from infancy he had perforce +attended chapel. + +"He took up a collection." + +"_What?_" + +"He took up a collection, Miss: the same as Mr Pamphlett does on +Sunday. Back-along, when he was at sea--" + +"Alcibiades," said Miss Oliver on a sudden impulse, feeling for her +purse. "What would you say if I gave you two pennies for your bright +new one? Two pennies will buy twice as much as one, you know." + +"O' course I know _that_," said 'Biades cunningly. "But what for?" + +"Because you have told me such a pretty story." + +'Biades hesitated. He had been driven--in self-defence, to be sure-- +into saying things at the bare thought of which he felt a premonitory +tingling in the rearward part of his person. But somehow the feel of +the coin in his hand seemed to enfranchise him. He had at once a +sense of manly solidity, and of having been floated off into a giddy +atmosphere in which nothing succeeded like success and the law of +gravity had lost all spanking weight. He backed towards Mrs +Pengelly's shop door, greedy, suspicious, irresolute. + +Miss Oliver produced two copper coins, and laid them in his palm. +As the exchange was made he backed upon Mrs Pengelly's shop door, and +the impact set a bell clanging. The sense of it shot up his spine of +a sudden, and at each stroke of the clapper he felt he had sold his +soul to the devil. But Miss Oliver stood in front of him, with a +smile on her face that seemed to waver the more she fixed it: and at +this moment the voice of Mrs Pengelly--a deep contralto--called-- + +"Come in!" + +Some women are comfortable, others uncomfortable. In the language of +Polpier, "there be bitter and there be bowerly." Mrs Pengelly was a +bowerly woman, and traded in lollipops. Miss Oliver-- + +Anyhow, the child 'Biades turned and took refuge in the shop, hurling +back the door-flap and its clanging bell. + + +This left Miss Oliver without, in the awkwardest of situations: since +she had a conscience as well as curiosity. In her palm lay a +guinea-piece: which meant that (at the very least, or the current +rate of exchange) she had swindled a child out of twenty shillings +and tenpence. This would never do, of course. . . . Yet she could +not very well follow in at this moment and explain to Mrs Pengelly. + +Moreover, here was a mystery connected with Nanjivell. In the midst +of her embarrassment she felt a secret assurance that she was in +luck; that she held a clue; that she had in her grasp something to +open Mrs Polsue's eyes in envy. + +"The first thing," she decided, "is to take this piece of gold to the +child's mother, and instanter." + +But, as fate would have it, she had scarcely reached the porch of the +Old Doctor's house when Nicky-Nan himself emerged from it: and at the +sight of him her fatal curiosity triumphed. + +"Mr Nanjivell!" she called. + +Nicky-Nan turned about. "Good mornin', Miss. Was that you +a-callin'?" + +Having yielded to her impulse, Miss Oliver suddenly found herself at +a loss how to proceed. Confusion and the call to improvise an +opening movement mantled her cheeks with that crimson tint which her +friend Mary-Martha so often alleged to be unbecoming. + +"I stopped you," she answered, stammering a little, "because, with +all our little differences in Polpier, we're all one family in a +sense, are we not? We have a sort of fellow-feeling--eh?--whether in +trouble _or_ prosperity. And as a Polpier woman, born and bred, I'd +like to be one of the first to wish you joy of your good fortune." + +Nicky-Nan's face did not flush. On the contrary, it turned to an +ashen grey, as he stood before her and leant for support on his +stick. He was making inarticulate sounds in his throat. + +"Who told you?" he gasped hoarsely. Recollecting himself, he hastily +changed the form of the question. "What lies have they been tellin' +up about me now?" + +Miss Oliver had meant to disclose the guinea in her palm, and tell +him of her meeting with the child 'Biades. But now she clutched the +coin closer, and it gave her confidence--a feeling that she held her +trump card in reserve. + +"Why, of course, they have been putting up lies, as you say," she +answered cunningly. "There was never such a place as Polpier for +tittle-tattle. They've even gone so far as to set it about that it +came from Germany: which was the reason you haven't joined up with +the colours." + +"_What_ came from Germany?" + +"And of course it is partly your own fault, isn't it?--if you _will_ +make such a secret of the thing? . . . Yet, I'm sure I don't blame +you. Living the solitary life you do must make it specially trying +to feel that every one is canvassing your affairs. For my part, I +said, 'If it _does_ come from Germany,' I said, 'you may be sure 'tis +through one of those lotteries.'" On a swift thought she added, +"But that tale is all nonsense, of course: because the Germans +wouldn't pay in guineas, would they?" + +"'Guineas'?" repeated Nicky-Nan, as the solid earth seemed to fail +beneath his feet and his supporting stick. + +Miss Oliver, grasping the advantage of his evident distress, decided +in a flash (1) that here, before her, stood the wreck of a +well-connected man, cleanly in person, not ill to look upon; and (2) +that she would a little longer withhold disclosure of the guinea. + +"Well, I _heard_ it took the form of guineas, Mr Nanjivell. But of +course I don't wish to be inquisitive." + +"That devil Pamphlett has been talkin'," muttered Nicky-Nan to +himself. + +"I only suggest," Miss Oliver went on, "that if 'twas known--I don't +seek to know the amount: but if I had your authority to say that +'twas all in good coin of this realm--with my opportunities I might +hush up half this silly talk about your being a spy and in German +pay--" + +"What? . . . ME, a German spy?" The words seemed fairly to strangle +him. + +"It's a positive fact, I assure you. I mean it's a positive fact +_somebody_ has been putting that story about." + +"If I knawed the critter, male or female--" Nicky-Nan gripped his stick. + +Miss Oliver could not help admiring his demeanour, his manly +indignation. The man had fine features, too--a touch of ancestry. +She grew bolder. + +"Well, I rather think I _do_ know the creature, as you put it-though +I am not going to tell you," she added almost archly. Then, of a +sudden, "Has Constable Rat-it-all been paying you any attention +lately?" + +"Well . . . I'll be danged!" + +Miss Oliver laughed pleasantly. "The fact is, Mr Nanjivell, you want +a woman's wit to warn you, as every man does in your position. +And just now it took me of a sudden, happening upon you in this way +and knowing how you were surrounded by evil tongues, that I'd cast +prudence to the winds and speak to you openly for your good, as a +neighbour. You don't think the worse of me, I hope?" + +"Why, no, Miss Oliver. Contrariwise I ought to be--if you hadn' +taken me so sudden!" he concluded lamely. + +"We'll say no more about that. All I suggest is that, until you find +some one worthier of your confidence, if you care to count on me as +an old friend and neighbour--" + +"Good Lord!" Nicky-Nan cast a hand to his brow. "You'll excuse my +manners, Miss--but if you'll let me go off an' think it over--" + +He turned as if to flee into the house. Then, as if headed off by +the noise of hammering within, he faced about and made across the +bridge for the quay-head and his favourite bollard. There, as a man +in a dream, he found a seat, and vainly for ten minutes strove to +collect and arrange his thoughts. Suspicion, fear, wild anger wove +dances in his brain--witch-dances immingled with cursings upon the +heads of Pamphlett and Policeman Rat-it-all. . . . Of a sudden he sat +up and stiffened with a new fright. + +"By the manner of her conversation, that woman was makin' love to +me!" + +Left to herself, and as Nicky-Nan passed out of sight around the +corner beyond the bridge, Miss Charity Oliver warily opened her palm +and examined the guinea. + +"By rights," she mused, "I ought to take this in to Mrs Penhaligon at +once, and caution her about Alcibiades. . . . No, I won't, though. +I'll call first and have it out with Mary-Martha. She thinks she +knows everything, and she has a way of making others believe it. +But she has proved herself a broken reed over this affair: and," +said Miss Oliver to herself with decision, "I rather fancy I'll make +Mary-Martha sensible of it." + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +FAIRY GOLD. + +"So you see, Mary-Martha, that for once in a way you were wrong and I +was right." + +"You're too fond of sweepin' statements, Charity Oliver. I doubt +your first, and your second I not only doubt but deny. So far as I +remember, I said the man was probably in German pay, while you +insisted that he'd won the money in a lottery." + +"I didn't insist: I merely suggested. It was you who started to talk +about German money: and I answered you that, even if the money _was_ +German, there might be an innocent way of explaining it before you +took upon yourself to warn the police." + +Mrs Polsue glanced at her friend sharply. "You seem to be gettin' +very hot over it," was her comment. "Why, I can't think. +You certainly wouldn't if you gave any thought to your appearance." + +"I'm not hot in the least," hotly protested Miss Oliver. "I'm simply +proving to you that you've made a mistake: which you could never in +your life bear to be told. The money is English gold, with King +George the Something's head on it: and _that_ you can't deny, try as +you may." + +"All the more reason why it shouldn't come through a German lottery," +replied Mrs Polsue, examining the coin. + +"I tell you for the last time that I only threw lotteries out as a +suggestion. There's many ways to come into a fortune besides +lotteries. You can have it left to you by will, for instance--" + +"Dear, dear! . . . But never mind: go on. How one lives and learns!" + +"And the other day the papers were full of a man who came into tens +of thousands through what they call a Derby sweep. I remember +wondering how cleaning chimneys--even those long factory ones--could +be so profitable in the north of England, until it turned out that a +sweep was some kind of horse-race." + +"The Derby, as it is called," said Mrs Polsue, imparting information +in her turn, "is the most famous of horse-races, and the most +popular, though not the most fashionable. It is called the Blue +Ribbon of the Turf." + +"Indeed? Now that's very gratifying to hear," said Miss Oliver. +"I didn't know they ran _any_ of these meetings on teetotal lines." + +"As I was saying," her friend continued, "the gowns worn are not so +expensive as at Ascot, and I believe there is no Royal Enclosure. +But the Derby is nevertheless what they call a National Institution. +As you know, I disapprove of horse-racing as a pastime: but my +brother-in-law in the Civil Service used to attend it regularly, from +a sense of duty, with a green veil around his hat." + +"I suppose he didn't want to be recognised?" Miss Oliver hazarded. + +"He didn't go so far as to say that Government Officials were +compelled to attend: though he implied that it was expected of him. +There's an unwritten law in most of these matters. . . . But after +what I've told you, Charity Oliver, do you look me in the face and +suggest that the Derby horse-race--being run, as every one knows, +early in the London season and somewhere towards the end of May, if +my memory serves me--can be made to account for a man like Nanjivell, +that humanly speaking shouldn't know one end of a horse from another, +starting to parade his wealth in the month of August?" + +"You've such a knack of taking me up before I'm down, Mary-Martha! +I never said nor implied that Mr Nanjivell had won his money on a +horse-race. I only said that some people did." + +"Oh, well, if _that_'s your piece of news," said Mrs Polsue with her +finest satirical air, "it was considerate of you to put on your +bonnet and lose no time in telling me. . . . But how long is it since +we started 'Mister'-ing Nanjivell in this way?" + +Miss Oliver's face grew crimson. "It seems to me that now he has +come into money--and being always of good family, as everybody +knows--" She hesitated and came to a halt. Her friend's eyes were +fixed on her, and with an expression not unlike a lazy cat's. + +"Oho!" thought Mrs Polsue to herself, and for just a moment her frame +shook with a dry inward spasm; but not a muscle of her face twitched. +Aloud she said: "Well, in your place I shouldn't be so hot, at short +notice, to stand up for a man who on your own showing is a corrupter +of children's minds. Knowing what I've told you of the relations +between this Nanjivell and Mrs Penhaligon, and catching this +Penhaligon child with a gold coin in his hand, and hearing from his +own confession that the man gave it to him, even _you_ might have +drawn some conclusion, I'd have thought." + +"I declare, Mary-Martha, I wouldn't think so uncharitably of folks as +you do, not if I was paid for it. You're annoyed--that's what you +are--because you got Mr--because you got Nanjivell watched for a +German spy, and now I've proved you're wrong and you can't wriggle +out of _that!_" + +"Your godfather and godmothers did very well for you at your baptism, +Charity Oliver. Prophets they must have been. . . . But just you +take a chair and compose yourself and listen to me. A minute ago you +complained that I took you up before you were down. Well, I'll +improve on that by taking you down before you're up--or up so far as +you think yourself. Answer me. This is a piece of gold, eh?" + +"Why, of course. That's why I brought it to you." + +"What kind of a piece of gold?" + +"A guinea-piece. My father used to wear one on his watch-chain, and +I recognised the likeness at once." + +"Quite so. Now when your father happened to earn a sovereign, did he +go and hang it on his watch-chain?" + +"What a silly question!" + +"It isn't at all a silly question. . . . Tell me how many sovereigns +you've seen in your life, and how many guineas?" + +"O-oh! . . . I think I see what you mean-" + +"I congratulate you, I'm sure! Now, I won't swear, but I'm morally +certain that guineas haven't been what they call in circulation for +years and years and years." + +"You're always seeing them in subscription lists," Miss Oliver +objected. "Take our Emergency Fund--'Charles Pendarves Tresawna, +Esq., J.P., twenty-five guineas.'" + +"I seem to remember that the Squire paid by cheque," said Mrs Polsue +drily. + +"But the guineas must have been there, in the Bank. . . . Oh, I see! +You mean that a guinea being worth twenty-one shillings--" + +"That's right: you're getting at it. Though I declare, Charity +Oliver, there are times when I don't know which is furthest behind +the times--your head, or the coquelicots you insist on wearing upon +it. But now I hope you'll admit I was right, and there's a mystery +about Nanjivell. Whether 'tis mixed up with his immorality or +separate I won't pretend to decide, or not at this stage." + +"But anyway you can't make out a guinea-piece to be German," +maintained Miss Oliver with a last show of obstinacy. + +"I don't say 'yes' or 'no' to that just yet," Mrs Polsue replied. +"The newspapers tell us the Germans have been hoarding gold for a +very long time. But you mentioned the Bank a moment ago--or did I? +Never mind: it was a good suggestion anyway. Wait while I send +across for Mr Pamphlett." + + +"Why, to be sure," said Mr Pamphlett, "it's a guinea--a George the +Second guinea." He pushed back a corner of the cloth and rang the +coin on the table. "Sound . . . and not clipped at all. There's +always its intrinsic value, as we say: and one of these days it will +have an additional value as a curiosity. But as yet that is almost +negligible. Oddly enough--" He broke off, fumbled in his waistcoat +pocket, and produced a guinea almost precisely similar. Miss Oliver +gasped: it was so like a conjuring trick. + +"Where did Miss Oliver get this one?" asked Mr Pamphlett, laying his +right forefinger upon the guinea on the table while still holding the +other displayed in the palm of his left hand. + +"I got it," confessed Miss Oliver, "off that youngest child of +Samuel Penhaligon's, who told me it had been given him as a present +by Mr--by Nicholas Nanjivell." + +"WHAT?" + +She blanched, as Mr Pamphlett stared at her. "His eyes," as she +explained later, "were round in his head-round as gooseberries." + +"Well, I suppose I oughtn't to have taken it from the child. . . . +But seeing that he didn't know its value, and there being something +of a mystery in the whole business--as Mary-Martha here will explain, +though she will have it that the man is a German spy--" + +"Stuff and nonsense, ma'am! . . . I beg your pardon: you're quite +right: there _is_ a mystery here, though it has nothing to do with +German spies. I rather fancy I'm in a position to get to the bottom +of it." + + +On Saturday, almost at blink of dawn, the Penhaligons started +house-moving. Mrs Penhaligon had everything ready--even the last +box corded--more than thirty-six hours earlier. But she would +neither finish nor start installing herself on a Friday, which was an +unlucky day. + +The discomfort of taking their meals on packing-cases and sleeping on +mattresses spread upon the bare floor weighed as nothing with the +children in comparison with the delightful sense of adventure. +Neither 'Bert nor 'Beida, when they came to talk it over, could +understand why their mother was in such a fever to quit the old +house. Scarcely ten days before she had kept assuring them, almost +angrily, that there was no hurry before Michaelmas. It was queer, +too, that not only had she forbidden them to accept even the smallest +offer of help from Nicky-Nan when he showed himself willing (as he +expressed it) for any light job as between neighbours, but on 'Bert's +attempting to argue the point with her she had boxed 'Biades' ears +for a quite trifling offence and promptly collapsed and burst into +tears with no more preparation than that of throwing an apron over +her head. + +"She's upset," said 'Bert. + +"If you learn at this rate, you'll be sent for, one of these days, by +the people up at Scotland Yard," said 'Beida sarcastically. But you +cannot glean much intelligence from a face which is covered by an +apron. + +"She's upset at leavin' the house. Women are like that--always--when +it comes to the point," 'Bert persisted. + +"Are they? I'll give you leave to watch _me_. And I'll bet you +sixpence." + +"You're not a woman yet. When the time comes you may start cryin' or +you mayn't. But I'll take even money you box 'Biades' ears." + +'Beida's glance travelled to that forlorn child. "I'll not take any +bet," she announced; "when you know that it may be necessary at any +moment--he's that unaccountable." She lifted her voice so that the +innocent culprit could not avoid hearing. "I don't speckilate on a +_thief_," she added with vicious intention. + +"Hush--hush!" said 'Bert, and glanced anxiously at his sobbing +parent. + +Nicky-Nan was the worst puzzled of them all. He had promised Sam +Penhaligon to do his best when the family shifted quarters: and now +Mrs Penhaligon would not hear of his lifting so much as a hand. + +He spent most of the day out on the cliffs, idly watching the +military. + + +Mrs Penhaligon had invoked the aid of Farmer Best; and Farmer Best +(always a friend of the unfriended) had sent down two hay waggons to +transport the household stuff. By four in the afternoon, or +thereabouts, the last load had been carried and was in process of +delivery at Aunt Bunney's cottage. + +At a quarter to five Nicky-Nan returned to the desolate house. +The front door stood open, of course. So (somewhat to his surprise) +did the door of the Penhaligons' kitchen. + +"They're all behindhand," thought Nicky-Nan. "Better fit the good +woman hadn' been so forward to despise my helpin'." + +He peered in cautiously. The room was uninhabited; stark bare of +furniture, save for the quadrant key left to hang from the midmost +beam; the "hellen "-slated floor clean as a new pin. + +Nicky-Nan heaved a sigh. "So they've gone," he thought to himself; +"an' so we all pass out, one after another. A decent, cleanly woman, +with all her kinks o' temper. Much like my own mother, as I remember +her." + +He passed into his parlour, laid down hat and walking-staff, and of a +sudden pulled himself upright, rigid. + +Footsteps were treading the floor overhead. + +For a moment it shook him almost to faintness. Then, swiftly, wrath +came to his aid, and snatching up his staff again he stumped out to +the foot of the stairway. + +"Who's that, up there?" + +"Ha! . . . Is that you, Nanjivell," answered the voice of Mr +Pamphlett. "A domiciliary visit, and no harm intended." The figure +of Mr Pamphlett blocked the head of the landing. + +Nicky-Nan raised his stick and shook it in a fury. + +"You get out within this minute, or I'll have the law of 'ee." + +"Gently, my friend," responded Mr Pamphlett soothingly. "I have the +Constable here with me, besides Mr Gilbert the builder. And here's +my Ejectment Order, if you drive me to it." + +"When you promised me--" stammered Nicky-Nan, escalading the stairs +and holding his staff before him as if storming a breach. + +"But,"--Mr Pamphlett waved a hand,--"we need not talk about ejectment +orders. By the terms of your lease, if you will examine them, the +landlord is entitled to examine his premises at any reasonable hour. +You won't deny this to be a reasonable hour. . . . Well, constable? +What about that cupboard?" + +Nicky-Nan, reaching the doorway, gave a gasp. Across the room +Rat-it-all, on hands and knees, had pulled open the door of the fatal +cupboard, and had thrust in head and shoulders, exploring. + +"There's a loose piece of flooring here, Mr Pamphlett. New, by the +looks of it." + +There was a sound of boards being shaken and thrown together in a +heap. + +"Queer old cache here below. . . . Steady, now . . . wait till I turn +my bull's-eye on it! Lucky I brought the lantern, too!" + +"You dare!" screamed Nicky-Nan, rushing to pull him backward by the +collar. + +The constable, his head in the bowels of the hiding-place, neither +heard him nor saw Mr Pamphlett and Builder Gilbert interpose to hold +Nicky-Nan back. + +"But 'tis empty," announced Policeman Rat-it-all. + +"Empty?" + +EMPTY? + +Nicky-Nan, bursting from the two men, gripped Rat-it-all by the +collar, flung him back on the floor, snatched his bull's-eye, and +diving as a rabbit into its burrow, plunged the lantern's ray into +the gulf. + +Rat-it-all had spoken truth. The treasure--every coin of it--had +vanished! + +Nicky-Nan's head dropped sideways and rattled on the boards. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +SALVAGE. + +"Mister Nanjivell! Mis-ter Nanjivell!" + +It was the child 'Beida's voice, calling from below. + +"Are you upstairs, Mister Nanjivell? I want to see you--in _such_ a +hurry!" + +Following up her summons, she arrived panting at the open doorway. +"O-oh!" she cried, after a catch of the breath. Her face blanched as +she looked around the bedroom; at Builder Gilbert, standing, wash-jug +in hand; at Mr Pamphlett, kneeling, examining the cupboard; at +Policeman Rat-it-all, kneeling also, but on one knee, while on the +other he supported Nicky-Nan's inert head and bathed a cut on the +right temple, dipping a rag of a towel into the poor chipped basin on +the ground beside him. + +"What are you doin' to him?" demanded 'Beida, her colour coming back +with a rush. + +Mr Pamphlett had slewed about on his knees. "Here, you cut and run!" +he commanded sharply. But his posture did not lend itself to +authority, and he showed some embarrassment. + +"What are you doin' to him?" the child demanded again. + +"He've had a fit," explained Builder Gilbert, holding out the ewer. +"Here, run downstairs and fetch up some more water, if you want to be +useful." + +'Beida stared at the ewer. She transferred her gaze to Rat-it-all +and his patient: then, after a shiver, to Mr Pamphlett. She had +courage. Her eyes grew hard and fierce. + +"Is that why Mr Pamphlett's pokin' his nose into a cupboard?" + +"Rat it all!" the constable ejaculated, casting a glance over his +shoulder and dipping a hand wide of the basin. + +"Fetch up some water, my dear," suggested Builder Gilbert. "When a +man's in a fit 'tis no time to ask questions, as you'll learn when +you grow up." Again he proffered the ewer. + +'Beida ignored it. "When a man's in a fit, do folks help by pokin' +their noses into his cupboards?" she demanded again, not removing her +eyes from Mr Pamphlett. + +"Pack that child out!" commanded Mr Pamphlett, standing up and +addressing Rat-it-all. "Do you hear me?" + +"I hear, sir," answered Rat-it-all. "But situated as I be--" +He cast a helpless glance at the child, who seemed to grow in stature +as, lifting her forefinger and pointing it at Mr Pamphlett, she +advanced into the room and shrilled-- + +"You've come to steal his money, the three of 'ee! An' you can't +take me in nor frighten me, not one of 'ee!" + +The high treble voice, or the word "money," or both, fetched +Nicky-Nan back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and groaned. + +"The money--where's the money?" he muttered. His eyes opened wider. +Then of a sudden his brain cleared. He sat up with a wild cry, +almost a scream; and, thrusting Rat-it-all backwards with all the +force of one hand, with the other groped on the floor for his +walking-staff--which lay, however, a couple of yards from him and +close by Mr Pamphlett's feet. + +"My money!--Rogues! Cheats!--" He broke down and put a hand to his +head in momentary faintness. "Where be I?" Then taking his hand +away and catching sight of the blood on it, he yelled out "Murder! +Where's my money? Murder! Thieves!" + +"Hush 'ee, Mister Nanjivell." 'Beida dropped on her knees beside +him. "Hush 'ee now, co! Here, let _me_ take the towel an' bathe your +poor head," she coaxed him. "You've had a fall, an' cut yourself-- +that's what happened. An' these men weren't murderin' 'ee, nor +shan't while I am here. No, nor they han't stole your money, +neither--though I won't say they weren't tryin'." + +He submitted, after a feeble convulsive struggle. "Where's my +money?" he persisted. + +"Your money's all right. Safe as if 'twas in the Bank--safer, I +reckon," she added, with an unfriendly glance at Mr Pamphlett. + +"What money is this you're talking about?" asked that gentleman, +stepping forward. He had no children of his own: and when he spoke +to children (which was not often) his tone conveyed that he thought +very little of them. He used that tone now: which was sheer +blundering folly: and he met his match. + +"The money you were huntin' for," answered 'Beida, quick as thought. + +"You mustn't speak to me like that. It's naughty and--er-- +unbecoming." + +"Why? _Weren't_ you lookin' for it?" Her eyes sought Rat-it-all and +questioned him. + +Mr Pamphlett made haste before his ally could speak. "The Policeman +was acting in the execution of his duty." This was a fine phrase, +and it took 'Beida aback, for she had not a notion what it meant. +But while she sought for a retort, Mr Pamphlett followed up his +advantage, to crush her, and blundered again. "You don't understand +that, eh?" + +"Not rightly," she admitted. + +"Then don't you see how foolish it is for little girls to mix +themselves in grown-up people's affairs? A policeman has to do many +things in what is called the execution of his duty, For instance," +continued Mr Pamphlett impressively, "sometimes he takes little girls +when they're naughty, and locks them up." + +"Fiddlestick!" said 'Beida with a sigh of relief. "Now I know you're +gassin'. . . . Just now you frightened me with your talk of +executions, which is what they do to a man when he's murdered some +person: and o' course if Nicky--if Mr Nanjivell had been doin' +anything o' _that_ sort--which he hasn', o' course. . . . But when +you go on pretendin' as Rat-it-all can lock _me_ up, why then I see +your game. Tryin' to frighten me, you are, because I'm small." + +"If you were a child of mine," threatened Mr Pamphlett, very red in +the gills, "do you know what I'd do to you?" + +"No," replied 'Beida; "I can't think. . . . But I reckon 'twould be +something pretty mean. Oh, I'm sick an' tired of the gentry!--if you +call yourself gentry. First of all you turn Father an' Mother out to +find a new home. An' then, as if that wasn' enough, you must come +nosin' in after Mr Nanjivell's small savin's. . . . Gentry!" she +swung round upon Builder Gilbert. "Here, Mr Gilbert, you're neither +gentry nor perlice. When I tell you about Miss Charity Oliver, that +calls herself a lady! What must _she_ do but, happenin' on 'Biades-- +that's my younger brother, an' scarce turned four--outside o' Mrs +Pengelly's, with a bit of gold money in his hand that Mr Nanjivell +gave to him in a moment o' weakness,--what must she do (an' callin' +herself a lady, no doubt, all the while) but palm off two bright +coppers on him for a swap? . . . That's a _fact_," 'Beida wound up, +dabbing the towel gently, but with an appearance of force, against +Nicky-Nan's temple, "for I got it out o' the child's own mouth, an' +work enough it was. That's your gentry!" + +"Hey?" Nicky-Nan pushed her hand aside. "What's this you're +tellin', now?" + +"Ask _him!_" she answered, nodding towards Mr Pamphlett. "He knows +all about it, an' 'tis no use for him to pretend he don't." + +"_Me_ give your small brother--?" began Nicky, but broke off with a +groan and felt his brow again. "Oh, where's the head or tail to +this? Where's the _sense?_ . . . Give me my money--that's all I ask. +Stop talkin' all of 'ee, an' fetch me what you've stole, between 'ee, +an' leave me alone!" + +Mr Pamphlett shifted his ground. "You're right, Nanjivell. +What's become of your money?--that's the main point, eh?" + +"O' course 'tis the main point," growled Nicky. "Though I'm damned +if I see how it consarns _you_." + +"Maybe I can enlighten you by-and-by. For the present you want to +know what has become of the money: and I've a strong suspicion this +child can tell us, if she chooses to confess. If not--" he raised a +minatory forefinger and shook it at 'Beida--"well, it's fortunate I +brought the constable, who will know how to act." + +"Will I?" said Rat-it-all, scratching his head. + +"No, you won't," 'Beida answered him stoutly, and turned again to +Nicky-Nan. + +"Mr Nanjivell," she pleaded, "tell me--didn't you find these three +turnin' your room inside out?" + +"'Course I did." Nicky-Nan cast a malignant glance around. + +"Was they doin' it with your leave?" + +"'Course they wasn't. Why, look at the state o' my head!" + +"You cut it yourself, fallin' against the scurtin'-board by the +cupboard," put in Builder Gilbert. + +'Beida noted his nervousness. + +"You say so!" she rapped on him. "Maybe when Mr Nanjivell has you up +before Squire Tresawna, you'll all swear to it in league." Again she +turned to Nicky. "Struck your head, did you?--fallin' against the +cupboard, when they was huntin' for your money: which they can't +deny. Did you _want_ Mr Pamphlett to find your money?" + +"_Him?_" said Nicky-Nan bitterly. "_Him?_ as I wouldn' trust not +ha'f so far as a man could fling him by his eyebrows!" + +"Well, _I_'ve got your savin's--'Bert an' me, every bit of it--stowed +an' put away where they can't find it, not if they hunted for weeks. +I came upstairs to tell about it, and where we've stowed it. Now be +you goin' to put 'Bert and me to prison for that?" + +"My dear"--Nicky-Nan spread out his hands--"not if you was a thief +an' had really stole it, I wouldn'. But behavin', as you have, like +an angel slap out o' Heaven--" He staggered up and confronted Mr +Pamphlett. "Here, you clear out o' this!" he threatened, pointing to +the door. "You're done, my billies. Tuck your tails atween your +legs an' march!" + +"A moment, if you please," put in Mr Pamphlett suavely. "You will +allow that, not being accustomed to little girls and not knowing +therefore how a pert child should properly be chastised and brought +to book, I have been uncommonly patient with this one. But you are +mistaken, the pair of you, in taking this line with me: and your +mistake, though it comes from ignorance of the law, may happen to +cost you both pretty dearly." He paused, while Nicky-Nan and 'Beida +exchanged glances. + +"Don't you heed him," said 'Beida encouragingly. "He's only gassin' +again." But she faced up for a new attack. + +"I have reason to believe," continued Mr Pamphlett, ignoring her and +wagging his forefinger at Nicky; "I have evidence going far to +convince me that this money of which we are talking is not yours at +all: that you never earned it by your own labour, nor inherited it, +nor were left it in any legitimate way. In other words, you were +just lucky enough to find it." + +"What's that to _you?_" + +"It concerns me to this extent. By the-common law of England all +such money, so discovered, belongs to the Crown: though I understand +it is usually shared equally among the Crown, the finder, and the +lord of the manor on which it was hidden. Therefore by concealing +your knowledge of this money you are illegally defrauding His +Majesty, and in fact (if you found it anywhere in Polpier) swindling +me, who own the manor rights of Trebursey and Trethake, which +together cover every square inch of this town. I bought them from +Squire Tresawna these ten years since. And"--he turned upon 'Beida-- +"any one who hides, or helps to hide, such money is an accomplice, +and may go to prison for it. _Now_ what have you to say?" + +But Mr Pamphlett had missed to calculate Nicky-Nan's recklessness and +the strength of old hatred. + +"'Say'?" Nicky shook with passion. "I say you're tellin' up a +parcel o' lies you can't prove. Do _I_ step into _your_ dam Bank an' +ask where you picked up the coin?--No? Well then, get out o' this +an' take your Policeman with 'ee. Fend off, I say!" he snapped, as +Rat-it-all touched him by the arm. + +"No offence, Mr Nanjivell," said the Policeman coaxingly. +"But merely as between naybours, if I might advise. Mr Pamphlett is +a very powerful gentleman: or, as I might put it better, he has +influence, unknown to you or me, an' knowledge--" + +"He's a very powerful skunk." + +"'Beida! . . . 'Beida!" called a voice from the foot of the stairs. +'Beida, after a start of joy, answered with the Penhaligon war-whoop, +as her brother came charging up. + +"Have you told him?" burst in young 'Bert, and drew back at gaze, a +foot within the threshold. + +"Yes, I've told him," answered 'Beida. "No, you needn' stare so," +she went on hurriedly, catching him on the edge of confusion. +"It'll be all right if you just answer up an' tell the truth. . . . +When we was movin' this afternoon, you an' me took Mr Nanjivell's +savin's away, the last thing--didn' we?" + +"Then what have you done with them?" thundered Mr Pamphlett. + +"Don't you answer him that," said 'Beida sweetly. "But answer +everything else. An' don't you be afraid of him. _I_ ben't." + +"What d'ee want me to tell?" asked 'Bert, a trifle uneasily. + +"Everything: 'cept you may leave out 'Biades. He's but a child o' +four, an' don't count." + +"Well," said 'Bert, addressing Mr Pamphlett--and his face, though +pale, was dogged--"if 'Beida's willin', I'd as lief get it off my +mind. . . . The first thing, sir, was P'liceman Rat-it-all's comin' +to me, Tuesday evenin': an' he said to me, 'What be you doin' to +occupy yourself as a Boy Scout, now that this here coast-watchin's +off?'--" + +"I didn' say 'off,'" interrupted Rat-it-all. "I didn' use no such +low and incorrect expression. My words was 'Now that this here +coast-watchin' has come to a ontimely end.'" + +"I dessay that _was_ the way you put it," 'Bert admitted. "When you +starts talkin' Lun'on, all I can follow is the sense--an' lucky if +that." + +"Bodmin," corrected Rat-it-all modestly. "I don't pretend to no more +than the Provinces as yet: though Lord knows where I may end." + +"Get on with the story, boy," Mr Pamphlett commanded. + +"Well, sir, I owned to him that I was left pretty well at a loose +end, with nothin' on hand but to think out how to do a Kind Action +every day, as is laid down in the Scout Rules: and it may come easy +enough to _you_, sir," added 'Bert with unconscious irony, "but _I_ +got no invention. An' his manner bein' so friendly, I told him as +how I was breakin' my heart for a job. 'Would 'ee like to catch a +Spy--a real German one?' says he. 'Get along with 'ee, pullin' my +leg!' says I. 'I ben't pullin' your leg,' says he. 'I be offerin' +what may turn out to be the chance o' your life, if you're a smart +chap an' want promotion.' 'What is it?' said I. 'Well, I mention no +names,' said he, 'but you live in the same house with Nicholas +Nanjivell.' 'We're turnin' out this week,' said I. 'All the more +reason why you should look slippy an' get to work at once,' says he. +Then I told him, sir," went on 'Bert, gathering confidence from the +sound of his own voice, "that I was fair sick o' plannin' to do Kind +Actions, which was no business of anybody's in War time, and a bad +let-down after coast-watchin'. 'But,' said I,"--here he turned upon +Nicky-Nan--"'if 'tis a Kind Action for Mr Nanjivell, I'd as lief do +it upon him as upon anybody: for you might almost call him one o' the +family,' I said. 'Kind Action?' says he. 'I don't want you to do +him no kinder action than to catch him out for a German spy. I name +no names,' says he, 'but from information received, he's in the +Germans' pay, an' Mrs Polsue is ready to swear to it.'" + +Nicky-Nan gripped his walking-staff and stood erect, as if to spring +on Mr Pamphlett. But of a sudden the enormity of the charge seemed +to overcome him, and he passed a hand over his eyes. + +"That's the second time," he muttered. "An' me, that--God help me!-- +scarce bothered myself about its bein' a War at all: bein' otherwise +worried, as you'd know, sir." His straight appeal to his inveterate +enemy had a dignity more convincing than any violent repudiation. +But Mr Pamphlett waved it aside. + +"Let the boy tell his story. . . . Well, boy, and what was your +answer to the constable?" + +"I told him," said 'Bert stolidly, "to get along for a silly +fat-head. Didn't I, now?" 'Bert appealed to the recipient of that +compliment to confirm its textual accuracy. + +"He did so," corroborated Rat-it-all. "He is right to that extent. +Which it gave me such a poor opinion of the whole Boy Scout movement +that I've treated it thenceforth as dirt beneath my feet. There was +a time when I thought pretty tolerably of Baden-Powell. But when it +comes to fat-heads--" + +"But you see, sir," 'Bert went on, "this put me in mind that I'd seen +Rat-it-all for two days past behavin' very silly behind walls an' +fuzz-bushes, an' 'most always in the wake o' Nicky-Nan--of Mr +Nanjivell, I mean: which I'd set it down that it was a game between +'em, an' Mr Nanjivell just lendin' himself for practice, havin' time +on his hands. First along I'd a mind to join in an' read the man one +or two Practical Hints out o' the sixpenny book; for worse shadowin' +you couldn' see. But when it turned out he was doin' it in earnest +against Mr Nanjivell I allowed as I'd give him a taste o' the real +article, which is what they call 'Scoutin' for Scouts' in the +Advanced Course; whereby he called on Mr Gilbert here, yesterday +afternoon; an' Mr Gilbert's back parlour window bein' open because o' +the hot weather, and me bein' behind the water-butt at the corner--" + +"You tarnation imp!" exclaimed the builder. + +"Which," continued 'Bert stolidly, "he was askin' if he reckoned by +chance th' Old Doctor's House had any secret hidin' places, an' would +he oblige the landlord Mr Pamphlett by comin' along to-morrow an' +bringin' a hammer? Which I went straight home an' borryed mother's, +an'--an'--" + +"An' you've told quite enough," put in 'Beida. "By no means," +objected Mr Pamphlett. "What have you children done with the money?" + +"Oh," said 'Beida wearily, "we're back on the old question, are we?" + +But here Nicky-Nan broke in. "Mr Pamphlett," he said, "you tell +that, as landlord, you've a right to walk in an' see to the repairs. +Very well. I don't know the law: but I doubt if the law, when I look +it up, 'll say that the said landlord has power to bring along a +Bobby and a Speckilative Builder. It _may_ be so, o' course. +Any way, you've taken it so, an' walked in; an' the next thing you'll +do is Walk Out." He pointed with his staff to the door. "_Me_--a +German spy! Forth the three of 'ee!" + +Mr Pamphlett saw no way but to comply. "You will hear more of this, +Nanjivell," he threatened, turning about in the doorway. + +"Gas, again!" said 'Beida. Nicky-Nan stood silent, pointing. +The retreat was not dignified. + + +"But, o' course," said 'Beida, "the bottom of it all was 'Biades." + +"'Biades?" + +"He'd caught up with some chatter about your bein' a spy. Oh, bless +your soul, _everybody's_ talkin' about it!" she assured Nicky-Nan +cheerfully. "But little pitchers have the longest ears; an' mother +an' me bein' so busy with the packin', he got ahead of us. He's a +clivver child, too, but"--'Beida shook her head--"I'm harried in mind +about 'en. Quite in a tricksy way he wormed it out o' mother what a +spy was, an' how the way to go to work was to s'arch his cupboards; +an' then quick as snuff he started 'pon yours, not sayin' a word to +anybody. Pretty clivver for four years' old--an' what's clivverer, +he found the money too!" + +"Damn the young viper! . . . No, I asks your pardon. Bless his +tender heart, I s'pose I ought to say, seein' as how providential--" + +"You can put it which way you like. I dessay God A'mighty has the +right an' wrong of it clear; an' 'Bert an' I allowed we'd leave +'Biades to a Higher Power after we'd made him sensible, on the seat +of his breeches, of the way his conduc' appealed to us. For I take +shame to own it, Mr Nanjivell, but at sight o' that boundless +gold Satan whispered in the poor mite's ear, an' he started priggin'. +. . . The way we found it out was, he came home from Mrs Pengelly's +stinkin' o' peppermints: an' when we nosed him an' asked how he came +to be favoured so, all he could say on the ground hop was that he'd +met a shinin' Angel unexpected in Cobb's Ally: an' the Angel had +stopped him and pulled out a purse an' said, 'Alcibiades Penhaligon, +the Lord has been much interested of late in your goin's-out an' your +comin's-in, an' what a good boy you've a-been. Here is 2d. for you +in gold o' the purest water. Go thou an' carry it to Our good friend +Missis Pengelly, who will doubtless reckernise and exchange it in +peppermint cushions.' Which was too thin. So we were forced to beat +him till the truth came out. An' then he brought us here, an' showed +what he'd a-found: an' with the furnitcher movin' an' mother so busy, +'Bert and I managed the rest. We weren't goin' to let that Pamphlett +snatch it. If you'll come around by Aun' Bunney's back-garden into +Mother's kitchen you shall count it out, every penny." + +"'Bert," said Nicky-Nan after a pause, "you've done a Kind Action +this day, if you never do another." + +"But the clivverness started with 'Biades," insisted 'Beida. "I hope +you'll bear that in mind, though I say nothing against the child's +sinfulness." + +"You're the best friends, all three, I ever met in this world," said +Nicky-Nan gratefully. + + +On his homeward road, and half-way up the hill, Mr Pamphlett at the +same moment turned, looked aloft, and accused Providence. + +"What blisters me," said Mr Pamphlett to the welkin, "is the thought +that I subscribed no less than two guineas to the Boy Scouts +Movement!" + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +ENLIGHTENMENT, AND RECRUITING. + +"Was there ever a woman on this earth so tried?" demanded Mrs +Penhaligon, lifting her eyes to two hams and a flitch of bacon she +had just suspended from the rafters, and invoking them as Cleopatra +the injurious gods. "As if 'twasn' enough to change the best kitchen +in all Polpier for quarters where you can't swing a cat, but on top +of it I must be afflicted with a child that's taken wi' the indoors +habit; and in the middle of August month, too, when every one as +means to grow up a comfort to all concerned is out stretchin' his +legs an' makin' himself scarce an' gettin' a breath o' nice fresh air +into his little lungs." + +"What's lungs?" asked 'Biades. + +"There was a boy in the south of Ireland somewhere," his mother +answered, collecting a few wash-cloths she had hung to dry on the +door of the cooking apparatus, "as took to his bed with nothing the +matter at the age o' fourteen. Next day, when his mother called him +to get up, he said he wasn't took very well. An' this went on, day +after day, until now he's forty years old an' the use of his limbs +completely gone from him. That's a fact, for I read it on the +newspaper with names an' dates, and only three nights ago I woke up +dreamin' upon that poor woman, workin' her fingers to the bone an' +saddled with a bed-riding son. Little did I think at the time--" + +Mrs Penhaligon broke off and sighed between desperation and +absent-mindedness. + +"I like this stove," answered 'Biades. "It's got a shiny knob on the +door, 'stead of a latch." + +"How the child does take notice! . . . Yes, a nice shiny knob it is, +and if you won't come out to the back-yard an' watch while I pin +these things on the clothes-line, you must stay here an' study your +disobedient face in it. The fire's out, so you can't tumble in an' +be burnt to a coal like the wicked children in Nebuchadnezzar: which +is a comfort, so far as it goes. Nor I can't send you out to s'arch +for your sister, wi' the knowledge that it'll surely end in her +warmin' your little sit-upon. . . . I'd do it myself, this moment,"-- +the mother grew wrathful only to relent,--"if I could be sure you +weren't sickenin' for something. You're behavin' so unnatural." +She eyed him anxiously. "If it should turn out to be a case o' +suppressed measles, now, I'd hate to go to my grave wi' the thought +that I'd banged 'em in." + +So Mrs Penhaligon, having picked up her clothes, issued forth into +the sunlight of the back-yard. 'Biades watched her through the +narrow kitchen window. He watched her cunningly. + +As soon as he saw her busy with the clothes-pegs, Master 'Biades +crept to a small iron door in the wall, a foot or two from the range, +and stealthily lifted the latch. The door opened on a deep, +old-fashioned oven, disused since the day when the late Mrs Bunney +(misguided woman) had blocked up her open hearth with a fire-new +apparatus. + +The child peered ("peeked" as they say in Polpier) into the long +narrow chamber, so awesomely dark at its far end, and snatched a +fearful joy. In that cavity lay the treasure. Gold--untold gold! + +He thrust his head into the aperture, and gloated. But it was so +deep that even when his eyes became used to the darkness he could see +nothing of the hoard. He wanted to gloat more. + +Tingling premonitions ran down his small spine; thrills that, +reaching the region of the lower vertebrae, developed an almost +painful activity. . . . None the less, 'Biades could never tell just +how or at what moment his shoulders, hips, legs, found themselves +inside the oven; but in they successively went, and he was crawling +forward into the pitch-gloom on hands and knees, regretting +desperately (and too late) that he had forgotten to sneak a box of +matches, when afar behind him he heard a sound that raised every hair +on the nape of his young neck--the lifting of the back-door latch and +the letting-in of voices. + +"You never _did!_" said the voice of 'Bert. + +"Leave me to tell her," said the voice of 'Beida. "The way you're +goin', she'll have the palpitations afore you begin. . . . Mother, +dear--if you'll but take a seat. Is't for the tenth or the twelfth +time we'm tellin' 'ee that father's neither killed nor wounded?" + +"Then what is it, on earth?" demanded the voice of Mrs Penhaligon. +"An' why should Mr Nanjivell be followin' you, of all people? +An' where's my blessed latest, that has been a handful ever since you +two left me, well knowin' the straits I'm put to?" + +"If I'm introodin', ma'am--" said the voice of Nicky-Nan. + +"Oh, no . . . not at all, Mr Nanjivell!--so long as you realise how +I'm situated. . . . An' whoever left that oven door open, I'll swear +I didn't." + +'Beida stepped swiftly to the oven, swung the door wide enough to +allow a moment's glance within, and shut with a merciless clang. + +She lifted her voice. "Mebbe," she announced, "'twas I that left it +on the hasp before runnin' out. I was thinkin' what a nice oven +'twas, an' how much better if you wanted to make heavy-cake in a +hurry, to celebrate our movin'-in. 'Bert agreed with me when I told +him," she continued, still lifting her voice, "and unbeknown to you +we cut an' fetched in a furze-bush, there bein' nothin' to give such +a savour to bread, cake, or pie. So if you're willin', Mother, we'll +fire it up while Mr Nanjivell tells his business." + +"What's _that?_" asked Mrs Penhaligon, sitting erect, as her ears +caught the sound of a howl, muffled but prolonged. + +'Beida set her back firmly against the oven. "Bread takes longer +than cakes," she announced, making her voice carry. "Cakes is +soonest over. We might try the old place first with a heavy cake, if +Mr Nanjivell don't mind waitin' for a chat, an' will excuse the +flavour whatever it turns out." + +"We're bewitched!" cried Mrs Penhaligon starting to her feet as the +wailing was renewed, with a faint tunding on the iron door. + +'Beida flung it open. "Which I hope it has been a lesson to you," +she began, thrusting herself quickly in front of the aperture, and +heading off the culprit before he could clamber out and run to his +mother's lap. "No, you don't! The first thing _you_ have to do, to +show you're sorry, is to creep back all the way you can go, an' fetch +forth what you can find at the very end." + +"You won't shut the door on me again?" pleaded 'Biades. + +"That depends on how slippy you look. I make no promises," answered +'Beida sternly. "'Twas you that first stole Mr Nanjivell's money, +and if you ben't doin' it again, well I can only say as appearances +be against him--eh, 'Bert?" + +"Fetch it out, you varmint!" 'Bert commanded. + +"But I don't understand a word of this!" protested the mother. +"My precious worm! What for be you two commandin' him to wriggle up +an' down an oven on his tender little belly like a Satan in Genesis, +when all the time I thought he'd taken hisself off like a good boy, +to run along an' mess his clothes 'pon the Quay. . . . Come 'ee +forth, my cherub, an' tell your mother what they've a-been doin' to +'ee? . . . Eh? Why, what's that you've a-got clinched in your hand?" + +"Sufferin's!" sobbed 'Biades, still shaken by an after-gust of +fright. + +"_What?_" + +"Sufferin's!" echoed 'Beida excitedly. "Real coined an' golden +sufferin's! Unclinch your hand, 'Biades, an' show the company!" + +As the child opened his palm, Mrs Penhaligon fell back, and put out a +hand against the kitchen table for support. + +"The good Lord in Heaven behear us! . . . Whose money be this, an' +where dropped from?" + +"There piles of it--" panted 'Beida. + +"Lashin's of it--" echoed 'Bert. + +"An' it all belongs to Mr Nanjivell, that we used to call Nicky-Nan, +an' wonder if we could get a pair o' father's old trousers on to him +with a little tact--an' him all the while as rich as Squire +Tresawna!" + +"--Rich as Squire Tresawna an' holy Solomon rolled into one," +corroborated 'Bert, nodding vigorously. "Pinch it 'tween your +fingers, mother, if you won't believe." + +But to her children's consternation Mrs Penhaligon, after a swift +glance at the gold, turned about on Nicky-Nan as he backed +shamefacedly to the doorway, and opened on him the vials of +unintelligible fury. + +"What d'ee mean by it?" she demanded. "As if I hadn' suffered enough +in mind a'ready, but you must come pokin' money into my oven and +atween me an' my children! Be you mad, or only wicked? Or is it +witchcraft you'd be layin' on us? . . . Take up your gold, however +you came by it, an' fetch your shadow off my doorstep, or I'll--" +She advanced on poor Nicky-Nan, who backed out to the side gate and +into the lane before her wrath, and found himself of a sudden taken +on both flanks: on the one by Mrs Climoe, who had spied upon his +visit and found her malicious curiosity too much for her; on the +other by gentle old Mr Hambly returning from a stroll along the +cliffs. + +"Hullo! Tut--tut--what is this?" exclaimed Mr Hambly. +"A neighbours' quarrel, and between folks I know to be so +respectworthy? . . . Oh, come now--come, good souls!" + +"A little nigher than naybours, Minister," put in Mrs Climoe. +"That is if you had eyes an' ears in your head." + +Nicky-Nan swung about on her: but she rested a hand on either hip and +was continuing. "'Naybours,' you said, sir? 'Naybours'? +Him accused by public talk for a German spy--" + +"Hush, Mrs Climoe! Of all the Commandments, ma'am, the one most in +lack of observance hereabouts, to my observation, is that which +forbids bearing false witness against a neighbour. To a charitable +mind that includes hasty witness." + +"There's another, unless I disremember," snapped Mrs Climoe, "that +forbids 'ee to covet your naybour's wife." + +While Mr Hambly sought for a gentle reproof for this, Mrs Penhaligon, +pale of face, rested a hand against her gate-post, and said she very +gently but in a white scorn-- + +"What is this talk of naybours, quarrelin' or comfortin' or +succourin' or bearin' witness? There be naybours, an'"--she pointed +a finger at Mrs Climoe--"there be livers-by. Now stroll along, the +lot of 'ee, and annoy somebody else that lives unprotected!" + +She said it so quietly and decisively, standing motionless, that +Lippity-Libby, coming around the corner of the lane with paste-pot +and brush, and with a roll of bills tucked in his armpit, mistook the +group for a chance collection of cheerful gossips. He drew up, +lowered his pail, and began in a business-like way to slap paste upon +the upper flap of a loft-door across the way, chatting the while over +his shoulder. + +"Good evenin', naybours! Now what (says you to yourselves) might I +be carryin' here under my arm in the cool o' the day. Is it a +Bye-Law? No, it is not a Bye-Law. Or is it a Tender? No, it is not +a Tender. Or is it a Bankrup' Stock, or a Primrose Feet, or at the +worst a Wesleyan Anniversary? Or peradventure is it a Circus? . . . +Sold again! 'Tis a Recruitin' Meetin', an' for Saturday." + +Having slapped on the paste, he unfolded a bill and eyed it +critically. + +"'YOUR KING AND COUNTRY WANT YOU.'--That's pretty good for Polpier, +eh? Flatterin', one might almost say." + +His cheerfulness held the group with their passions arrested. +Nicky-Nan turned about and stared at the placard as Lippity-Libby +smoothed it over the paste, whistling. + +At that moment Un' Benny Rowett, hands in trouser-pockets, came +dandering along. He, too, taking the geniality of every one for +granted, halted, spread his legs wide and conned the announcement. + +"Oh!" said he after a pause, wheeling about. "Still harpin' on they +Germans? Well, Mr Hambly, sir, I don't know how it strikes you, but +I'm sick an' tired of them dismal blackguards." + + +"I can't bear it," said Mrs Steele, walking to and fro in her +drawing-room. She ceased wringing her handkerchief, and came to a +halt confronting the Vicar, who stood moodily leaning an arm on the +mantelshelf. + +"I believe," he answered after a pause, "you would find it worse to +bear in a month or so if I hadn't offered." + +"Why didn't you consult me?" + +"I wrote to the Bishop--" + +"The 'Bishop!' Well . . . what did _he_ advise?" + +"Oh, of course he temporised. . . . Yes, I know what you are going to +say. My consulting him was a momentary throw-back of loyalty. +The official Churches--Roman Catholic, Greek, Anglican, the so-called +Free--are alike out of it in this business. Men in England, France, +Russia--Germany and Austria, too--are up against something that +really matters." + +"What can matter comparable with the saving of a soul?" + +"Losing it, sweetheart; or, better still, forgetting it--just seeing +your job and sticking it out. It is a long, long way to Tipperary, +every Tommy knows; and what (bless him!) he neither knows nor recks +about is its being a short cut to Heaven." + +"Robert, will you tell me that our Faith is going down in this +horrible business?" + +"Certainly not, my dear. But I seem to see that the Churches are +going down. After all, every Church--even the Church Catholic--is a +means to an end, not an end in itself. Where I've differed from four +out of five of my clerical brethren (oh, drat the professional +lingo!)--from the majority of the clergy hereabouts, is that while +they look on the Church and its formularies as something even more +sacred than the Cross itself, I have believed in it as the most +effective instrument for teaching the Cross." Mr Steele pulled a wry +mouth. "At this moment I seem to be the bigger fool. They _may_ be +right: the Church _may_ be worth a disinterested idolatry: but as a +means to teach mankind the lesson of Christ it has rather patently +failed to do its business. Men are not fools: or rather they _are_ +fools, but not fools enough in the long-run to pay for being taught +to be foolish. They pay us ministers of religion, Agatha, a tidy lot +of money, if you take all Europe over: and we are not delivering the +goods. In their present frame of mind they will soon be discovering +that, for any use we are, they had better have saved the cash and put +it into heavy artillery." + +"All we have lived, worked, hoped for in this parish--we two, almost +alone--" + +"And now," said the Vicar ruefully, "I am leaving you quite alone. +Yes, you have a right to reproach me. . . . Old Pritchard, from St +Martin's, will take the duty. His Vicar will be only too glad to get +rid of him." + +"Oh, don't let us talk of that silly old man!" said Mrs Steele +impatiently. "And as for reproaches, Robert, I have only one for +you--that you did this without consulting me." + +"Yes, I know: but you see, Agatha--" + +"No, I do not see." She faced him, her eyes swimming. "I might have +argued a little--have cried a little. But why--oh, why, Robert?--did +you deny me the pride to say in the end, 'Go, and God bless you'?" + + +The Recruiting Meeting was held in the Council Schoolroom, on +Saturday evening, at 7 o'clock. [Public meetings in Polpier are +invariably fixed for Saturday, that being the one week-night when the +boats keep home.] Schoolmaster Rounsell and his daughter (back from +her holiday) had decorated the room, declining outside assistance. +It was a rule of life with Schoolmaster Rounsell and his daughter to +be very stiff against all outside assistance. They took the line +that as State-employed teachers of the young,--that is to say, Civil +Servants,--they deserved more social respect than Polpier habitually +showed them. In this contention, to be sure, they were wholly right. +Their mistake lay in supposing that in this dear land of ours +prejudice can be removed by official decree, or otherwise than by the +slow possession of patience, tact, and address. Mr Rounsell, +however, was less stiff than usual, since the Vicar had asked him to +second a vote of thanks at the end of the meeting. He and his +daughter spent a great part of the afternoon in arranging the +platform and decorating the back wall with a Union Jack, two or three +strings of cardpaper-flags that had not seen the light since +Coronation Day, and a wall-map of Europe with a legend below it in +white calico letters upon red Turkey twill,--"DO GOOD AND FEAR NOT." +It had served to decorate many occasions and was as appropriate to +this as to any of them. + +By 6.45 the room was crowded with an audience numbering two hundred +and more. They sat very quietly in the odour of the evil-smelling +oil lamps, expectant of oratory. For Squire Tresawna (who pleaded an +attack of gout as an excuse for not attending) had not only assured +the committee of his personal sympathy, but at his own cost had +engaged a speaker recommended by a political association (now turned +non-political) in London. There was promise of oratory, and every +Cornish audience loves oratory. + +In the Squire's absence Farmer Best took the chair. Punctually at +seven o'clock he mounted the platform, followed by the orator from +London (a florid gentleman in a frock-coat and dingy white +waistcoat), the Vicar, Mr Hambly, Mr Pamphlett, Dr Mant, and Mr +Rounsell. As they entered, Miss Rounsell, seated at the piano at the +far end of the platform, struck the opening chords of "God Save the +King." It seemed to take the audience by surprise: but they shuffled +to their feet and, after a few bars, sang the anthem very creditably. + +When they had settled themselves, Farmer Best opened the meeting. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, Naybours all," he said,--"I don't suppose +these here proceedin's will conclude much afore ten o'clock: after +which it'll take me the best part of an hour to get home; an' what +with one thing and another I doubt it'll be far short o' midnight +afore my missus gets me to bed. Whereby, knowin' my habits, you'll +see that I reckon this to be summat more than an ord'nary occasion: +the reason bein', as you know, that pretty well the hull of Europe's +in a state o' War: which, when such a thing happens, it behoves us. +I'll say no more than that, as Britons, it behoves us. It was once +said by a competent observer that Britons never, never--if Miss +Rounsell will oblige?" + +This was a rehearsed effect. Miss Rounsell, taking her cue, struck +the key-board, and as Miss Charity Oliver (in the front row) +testified next morning, "the effect was electric." All sprang to +their feet and sang the chorus of _Rule, Britannia!_ till the windows +shook. + +"Thenk 'ee, friends," continued Farmer Best, as the tumult and the +singers subsided. "There's no more to say but that most of 'ee's +heard tell, in one way or another at some time of his life, of +Armygeddon. Well, this here's _of_ it; an' if you ask my opinion o' +that fellow they call the Kaiser, I say I wouldn' sleep in his bed +for a million o' money. And with these few remarks I will no longer +stand between 'ee and Mr Boult, who is a speaker all the way from +London, an' will no doubt give us a Treat an' persuade many of our +young friends in front to join up." + +Mr Boult arose amid violent applause. He pulled the lappels of his +frock-coat together. He spoke, and from the first moment it was +clear that he held at command all the tricks of the hired orator. +He opened with an anecdote from the life of President Garfield, and a +sentimental application that made the Vicar wince. He went on to +point out, not unimpressively, that Armageddon ("as you, sir, have so +aptly and so strikingly termed it") had actually broken upon the +world. Farmer Best, flattered by this acknowledgment of copyright in +the word, smiled paternally. + +"It has burst like a thunderstorm upon the fields of Belgium; but the +deluge it discharges is a deluge of blood intermingled with human +tears. And where, my friends, is Belgium? How far distant lie these +trodden and wasted fields, these smoking villages, these harvests +where men's bodies crush the corn and their blood pollutes the food +they planted to sustain it? Listen: those fields lie nearer London +than does your little village: men are dying--yes, and women and +little children are being massacred--far nearer London than you are +peacefully sitting at this moment." + +"Come!" thought the Vicar, "this fellow is talking sense after all, +and talking it rather well." Mr Rounsell stood up and pointed out +the positions of Liege and Polpier on the wall-map, and their +relative distances from London. A moment later the Vicar frowned +again as Mr Boult launched into a violent--and as it turned out, a +lengthy--invective against the German Emperor; with the foulness of +whose character and designs he had, it seemed, been intimately +acquainted for a number of years. "Who made the War?" "Who had been +planning it and spying for the opportunity to gratify his unbridled +lust of power?" "Who would stand arraigned for it before the awful +tribunal of God?" &c. The answer was "the Kaiser," "the Kaiser," +"the Kaiser Wilhelm"--Mr Boult pronounced the name in German and +threw scorn into it. + +--"Which," mused the Vicar, "is an argument _ad invidiam_; and, when +one comes to think of it, rather a funny one. The man is still +talking sense, though: only I wish he'd talk it differently." + +Then for a quarter of an hour Mr Boult traced the genesis of the War, +with some ability but in special-pleader style and without a particle +of fairness. He went on to say that he, personally, was not in +favour of Conscription. [As a matter of fact he had spoken both for +and against Compulsory Service on many public platforms.] He believed +in the Voluntary Principle: and looking on the many young men +gathered in the body of the hall, and more particularly at the back +["excellent material" he called them, too], he felt convinced there +would be no hanging back that night; but to-morrow, or, rather, +Monday, when he returned to London he would be able to report that +the heart of Polpier was sound and fired with a resolve to serve our +common country. Mr Boult proceeded to make the Vicar writhe in his +seat by a jocular appeal to "the young ladies in the audience" not to +walk-out with any young man until he had clothed himself in khaki. +He wound up with one of his most effective perorations, boldly +enlisting John Bright and the Angel of Death; and sat down amid +tumultous applause. It takes all sorts to make a world, and this +kind of speech. + +Farmer Best called upon the Vicar. + +"I wish," said Mr Steele, "to add just a word or two to emphasise one +particular point in Mr Boult's speech; or, rather, to put it in a +somewhat different light. And I shall be brief, lest I spoil the +general effect on your minds of his very powerful appeal. + +"I address myself to the women in this room. . . . With _you_ the +last word lies, as it rightly should. It is to _you_ that husband, +son, brother, wooer, will turn for the deciding voice to say, +'Go, help to save England--and may God prosper and guard you'; +because it is your heart that makes the sacrifice, as it is your +image the man will carry away with him; because the England he goes +to defend shapes itself in his mind as 'home,' as the one most sacred +spot, though it be but a cottage, in which his imagination or his +memory installs you as queen; in which your presence reigns, or is to +reign. + +"Do you realise your strength, O ye women? . . . The age of chivalry +is not dead. Nothing so noble that has once so nobly taken hold of +men's minds can ever die, though the form of it may change. Now the +doctrine of chivalry was this, for the Man and the Woman-- + +"For the man, that every true soldier went forth as a knight:" + + 'And no quarrell a knight he ought to take + But for a Truth or for a Woman's sake.' + +"And our soldiers to-day fight for both: for the truth that Right is +better than Might, and for the sake of every woman who reigns or +shall reign in an English home; that not only shall she be +safeguarded from the satyr and the violator, but that she shall be +secured in every inch of dignity she has known in our days; as queen +at the hearth where her children obey her, and in her doorway to +which the merchants of all the earth bring their wares. + +"For the Woman, chivalry taught that she, who cannot herself fight, +is always the Queen of Tournay, the president of the quarrel, the +arbitress between the righteous and the unrighteous cause, the +dispenser of reward to him who fights the good fight. . . . So, and +as each one of you is the braver to speak the word--'Go, though it +break my heart: and God bring you safely home to me!'--she shall with +the heavenlier right tender her true soldier his crown when he +returns and kneels for a blessing on his victory." + +When the speeches were ended and Farmer Best arose to invite +intending recruits to step up to the platform, Mr Boult had an +unhappy inspiration. "If you'll excuse me, Mr Chairman," he +suggested, "there's a way that I tried this day week in Holloway with +great effect. . . . I take out my watch an' count ten, very slowly, +giving the young men the chance who shall rush up before the counting +is over. It acted famously at Holloway." + +"Oh, very well," said Farmer Best doubtfully, taken off his guard. +"The gen'leman from London," he announced, "will count ten slowly, +an' we're to watch out what happens. He says it acted very well at +Holloway last week." + +On the instant, as Mr Boult drew out his watch, the audience hushed +itself, as for a conjuring seance. Mr Hambly passed a hand over his +brow, and sighed. + +"One--two--three--" counted Mr Boult, and a mortuary silence +descended on all. + +"--four--five--six--seven--" + +"Pray on, brother Boult! 'Tis workin', 'tis workin'," squeaked up a +mock-religious voice from the back. + +Some one tittered audibly, and the strain broke in a general shout of +laughter. Old men, up to now profoundly serious, lay back and held +their sides. Old women leaned forward and searched for their +handkerchiefs, their bonnets nodding. Mr Boult pocketed his watch, +and under his breath used ferocious language. + +"I don't wonder!" said Farmer Best with a forced attempt at sympathy. +Then he, too, broke down and cast himself back in his chair +haw-hawing. + + +There was a sudden stir in the crowd at the back, and young Obed +Pearce came thrusting his way through the press. + +"Well--I don't care who laughs, but I'm _one!_" growled young Obed, +half defiantly, half sullenly, and tossed his cap on to the platform +like a challenger in a wrestling ring. + +"And I'm another!" announced the clear quiet voice of Seth Minards, +thrilling the room as the hush fell. + +"Aw, 'tis Seth!" "Seth's a beautiful speaker once he gets goin'." +"But what's the meanin'?" "Seth, of all the boys!" "Let Seth +speak!" + +"Ha! What did I promise you?" proclaimed Mr Boult triumphantly, +reaching down a hand. "Here, clamber up to the platform, my lad, +an' give 'em a talk. . . . You can talk, they're saying. +Strike while the iron's hot." + +Seth took his hand and vaulted to the platform; but dropped it on the +instant and turned to the meeting. "I come here, friends," he +announced, "because Mr Obed's offered himself, an' I don't see no way +but I must go too. . . . That's it: I don't agree wi' the ha'af +that's been said to-night, but I don't see no other way. We've got +to go, because--" his voice sank here, as though he were communing +with himself: it could scarcely be heard, "--because--" he swung +about upon the elders on the platform and swept them with an accusing +finger. "We've got to go because _you_'ve brought this thing about, +or have let it come about! It don't matter to _me_, much. . . . +But we've to wipe up the mess: an' if the young men must go an' wipe +it up, an' if for them there's never to be bride-ale nor children, +'tis your doin' an' the doin' o' your generation all over Europe. +A pretty tale, too, when up to a fortni't ago your talk was o' peace +an' righteousness! . . . Forgi'e me, Mr Best . . . I'll fight well +enough, maybe, when it comes to't. But _why_ were we brought up one +way, to be tortured turnin' our conscience to another?" + +There were no other recruits. "A great disappointment," said Mr +Boult. "That earnest young fool spoilt it all." + +"He made the best speech of the evening," answered the Vicar. + +"Well, anyway he's enlisted. He'll find the Army a fine discipline +for the tongue." + +"Indeed," said the Vicar viciously. "I did not know that you had +experience of the Service." + +As Seth Minards thrust his way out of the insufferably stuffy room, +in the porchway he felt a hand laid on his shoulder; and, turning +about, recognised Nicky-Nan by the dim starlight. + +"God bless 'ee, my son!" said Nicky heartily, to his utter surprise. +"I can't stay to talk now, havin' to force my way in an' catch Dr +Mant. But maybe we'll both be seein' this War from to-morrow; an' +maybe we'll meet in it, or maybe we will not. But you've let in +light 'pon an older skull than your own; an' I thank 'ee, an' I'll +pray th' Almighty every night on my knees that you may fight well an' +be preserved through it all, to come home an' testify." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +THE FIRST THREE. + +Mr Pamphlett had breakfasted, and had gone upstairs to put on his +frock-coat and array himself for Divine service. + +The servant girl announced Mr Nanjivell. + +"Sorry to trouble 'ee, sir, and upon such a day," said Nicky-Nan, +drawing up his sound leg to "attention," as his enemy entered the +parlour: "but my business won't wait. I saw Doctor Mant after the +meetin' last night, an' this mornin' I was up early an' had a talk +wi' the Minister--wi' Mr Hambly. The upshot is, that time presses." + +"I do not usually discuss business on the Sabbath," said Mr Pamphlett +stiffly. + +"O' course not. Who would?" Nicky-Nan agreed. "But the upshot is +that you an' me havin' been not what you might call friends--" + +"I am due at Divine service in less than an hour. State your +business," commanded Mr Pamphlett. + +"And I am due away, sir, in about that time. Will you look at this +paper?" Nicky-Nan laid on the table a half-sheet of notepaper +scribbled over with figures in pencil. "Look over that, if you +please; or put it off till you come back from Chapel, if you will: +but by that time I shall be gone. You'll find my address in Plymouth +at the foot." + +"If you'd kindly explain--" + +"Mrs Penhaligon has the money. I've spoke to Dr Mant: who says I can +be put right, an' the operation, with board and lodging, will be +covered by ten pound. I've taken ten pound, as accounted for on the +paper." + +Mr Pamphlett picked up the paper, and felt for his pince-nez. + +"Still I don't understand." + +"No, you wouldn't. I'm _trustin'_ 'ee--that's what it comes to. +I've had a talk with Mr Hambly besides; and he and Dr Mant'll look +after my interests. . . . You see, I _did_ find a hoard o' money in +the Old Doctor's House, an' stuck to it, not knowin' the law. On the +paper, too, you'll see what I've used of it--every penny accounted +for. Mr Hambly says that anyway the law gives me a share far beyond +anything I've used. So I leave it atween 'ee, to see fair play for +me if ever I come back. If I don't, I've left it to the Penhaligon +children; an' Mr Hambly an' Dr Mant'll see fair play for them. . . . +But you understand, sir"--Nicky-Nan dived into his left +trouser-pocket and showed a palmful of coins--"I've taken ten pound, +for the operation an' sundries." + +Mr Pamphlett studied the paper for a moment. + +"But, my good man--since you say that you have taken Mr Hambly into +your confidence--" + +"Well, sir?" + +"Oh, well--you will be back, doubtless, in a few days' time; and then +we can talk. This--this is very--er--honest of you." + +"It may be. As for bein' back in a few days' time, if the War should +be over in a few days' time you may expect me. I hope it won't. +God forgive me for sayin' so, but I'll be more comfortable +there. . . . Ay, d'ee hear me, Mr Pamphlett? More _comfortable_ than +here amidst women's tongues an' clerkly men's devices, an', what's +worse, even the set-up whisperin' o' children. God forgive 'em an' +forgive _you!_ I'm a Polpier man, an' the last o' my stock; but I'll +come back, if at all, to finish in Polpier with credit." + +"This represents a considerable sum of money," said Mr Pamphlett, +conning the paper, and with a note, which he could not suppress, of +elation in his voice. + +"Ay; does it not?" said Nicky-Nan scornfully. "Well, I leave 'ee at +home, to prove how honest you can contrive to be with it. +D'ee _see?_ . . . There's boys, like your nephew, young Obed Pearce, +as goes to fight for their conscience; an' there's boys, like young +Seth Minards, as goes to fight despite their conscience; but for me, +that am growin' elderly, I go, maybe with a touch o' the old country, +in contempt o' my kind." + +Mr Pamphlett had seated himself at the table, and with his golden +pencil-holder was at work on the paper making calculations. +Nicky-Nan, going out, turned in the doorway and lifted his hand to +the old remembered naval salute. + +A couple of hours later, having given them a two-miles' lift on the +way, Nicky-Nan at the cross-roads dropped young Seth and young Obed +to take their way to the inland barracks. He was for the coast-road, +with the hospital and the operating-theatre at the end of it. +If Heaven willed, he might eventually be of some service on the heave +of the sea, as they in their youth and their strength assuredly would +be in the land campaign. + +As his hired trap jolted on, at a twist of the road before it bore +straight-eastwardly, he caught sight of their diminishing figures +side by side and already a goodish way off on a rise of the inland +road. It did not occur to them to turn on the chance of sighting him +and waving a hand. The two were comrades already, sharing talk, on +this their first stage towards the battlefields of Flanders. + + +FINIS. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nicky-Nan, Reservist +by Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST *** + +***** This file should be named 15710.txt or 15710.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/7/1/15710/ + +Produced by Lionel Sear + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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