When I awoke I knew not where I was. My mind was strangely confused, and there was a sound like unto many thunders roaring in my ears. I had a choking sensation, too, and felt it hard to breathe. Then I felt myself to be covered with water, while pebbles pelted my face. I struggled to my feet, and my senses coming to me, I understood the reason. I had not thought of the tide, which was now rushing into the cave with terrific force. A great fear got hold of me, and, as fast as I was able, I fled into the interior of the cavern. It was very dark, but in the darkness I fancied I saw strange, moving creatures; and at that moment all the stories told about Granfer Fraddam's evil spirit were true to me. A mad desire to escape possessed me, but how to do so I did not know. I heard the waves thundering up the cave, while a terrible wind blew, which drove me further into the darkness. I dared not venture to go seaward, so, keeping my hand against the side of the cavern, I allowed myself to follow the strong current of air. Presently the cave began to get smaller; indeed, so narrow was it that I could feel both sides at the same time by stretching out my hands. All the while the wind blew tremendously. At this I wondered much, for it seemed strange to me that I should feel the wind when I was so far away from the mouth of the cave. As I became calmer, I began to understand this. I knew that the waves as they rushed into the aperture must carry with them a great force of wind, and that naturally they would force the air inward. Thus the strong current which blew me further from the sea would indicate that there was an outlet somewhere. So, unmindful of danger, I followed the wind-current, and shortly I found myself ascending. The road was slimy and hard to climb; but I struggled on, and erelong found myself in a coppice. I looked around me, and remembered the place well. On one side of the coppice was a meadow which belonged to a fisherman named Ikey Trethewy—a strange, silent man who spoke but little, and who possessed a fast-trotting horse. On the other side the coppice sloped up to the spongy headland, where a curious kind of grass grew, and where rabbits dug their holes, and frolicked on summer nights.

I had passed by the place often, and had never thought much of it. The little patch of trees and thick undergrowth which grew in a kind of sheltered gully seemed of no importance; but now the place possessed a strong interest for me.

The coppice was much sheltered, but the wind, as it came up the hole through which I had passed, made a wild, moaning sound, which explained many of the stories I had heard. It was very dark by this time, and, although it was summer, the sky was covered with black clouds, and I heard the wind and sea roaring furiously. By the time I got to the headland I knew that a storm of great violence was raging. For some time a feeling of indecision possessed me; then I made my way toward Betsey Fraddam's cottage.



CHAPTER V

I SEE NAOMI PENRYN ON ROCK CALLED THE SPANISH CAVALIER, AND RESCUE HER—WE ESCAPE FROM THE TRESIDDERS

When I entered Betsey's cottage, she was sitting with her son beside the open fireplace, watching a crock which steamed over a wood fire, and from which came a strange smell.

"'Twas cowld and wet at Granfer's caave, I spoase?" was her first greeting, after looking at me very carefully.

Now how she knew I had been in the cave I know not, neither will I pretend to explain; at the same time, I felt rather fearful at the thought that she should have been aware of the place where I had spent the day, when no one had told her.

"How do you know where I have been?" I asked.

"How do I knaw?" sneered Betsey; "how do I knaw everything?"

So I said no more, but looked toward a loaf of bread which lay on the table.

"Iss, you've 'ad nothin' but a swede turmut, and that ed'n rastlin' mait," said Betsey. "You do look vine and faint, too. 'Ere's summin that'll do 'ee good, my deear," and going to a cupboard, she took a two-gallon jar, and poured out a tumbler full of liquor. "There, drink that," she said, putting it before me.

It was raw spirits, and when I had swallowed one mouthful I could take no more, it was too strong for me.

"Aw, aw!" laughed Betsey; "'tes nearly as strong as the broth I do make, ed'n et, then? Here, Eli, put some milk in the pan, and het it for 'un. He was in the pillory yesterday, and he seed Richard Trezidder and Neck Trezidder and Emily Trezidder, and another maid, a very purty one. Then 'ee runned away, and after that he got to Granfer Fraddam's Cave. Make a good quart of eggiot for 'un, Eli. That'll be better'n sperrits. He's too waik for that."

Then Eli got the milk, and began to beat up eggs in a basin, grunting strangely, while he watched me with his strange, wild-looking eyes. But I did not speak, for Betsey made me afraid; besides, I felt cold and ill.

"I knaw what you be thinking," said Betsey; "you be wonderin' how I got so much sperrits. Well, p'raps I shall tell 'ee zoon. We sh'll zee, Jasper, we sh'll zee." And with that the old crone chuckled.

Then Eli came to me, and felt me, and fondled me. He smoothed my wrists where they had been bruised the day before, and got some ointment which he rubbed around my neck. Then, when the milk and egg was ready, he poured it in a huge basin, and put it before me.

"I'd 'a killed 'un ef you wos dead," he repeated many times, until I wondered at his apparent love for me.

When I had drunk what Eli had prepared I felt better. My head began to get clear again, and my strength came back to me.

"Naow," wheedled Betsey, when I had finished, "tell me oal about et. Tell me, Jasper, my deear."

"You know everything," I replied.

"No, not everything; tell me, for ould Betsey'll ave to 'elp 'ee, my deear."

So I told her everything, save my love for Naomi Penryn; of that I could not speak to her, it was a secret for my own heart, and I vowed that I would never tell of it until I poured the words in the sweet maid's own ears. At that time I felt sure that the story of my love would remain forever untold.

"Do 'ee knaw what this do main, Jasper?" said Betsey, when I had finished.

"He bait 'em boath, boath!" laughed Eli, gleefully.

"Now, Eli," said Betsey, "hark to Jasper, and hark to me. Now tell me, Jasper."

"I think I know," I said.

"He mustn't knaw that you've come back to St. Eve," said Betsey. "I tell 'ee, you musn't show yer faace. 'Ee'll never rest till you'm out ov the way. You'll jist be found dead some day, tha's wot'll 'appen. Ef 'ee caan't do et with the law 'ee'll do et wi'out."

"Yes," I said.

"Well, wot be 'ee goin' to do?"

"I'll go back to Granfer Fraddam's Cave. No one can find me there."

"Tha's true, but what 'bout yer mait?"

"I'll bring 'un mait," said Eli. "I'll bring 'un mait. I knaw, I knaw!" And the poor gnome laughed joyfully.

"But that caan't last," said Betsey. "Two months more an' winter'll be 'ere. Besides, you caan't git back Pennington by stayin' in a cave. You knaw what you promised your vather, Jasper; you zaid you wudden rest night nor day 'till you got back Pennington."

"I remember," I said.

"Bezides," cried Betsey—then she stopped, and looked at me steadily. She had keen, whitey-gray eyes, which shone very brightly. "Do'ee knaw who thicky maid wos that you zeed in Fa'muth 'esterday?"

I shook my head.

"Purty, ed'n she?" sniggered Betsey. "She's for Nick Trezidder, my deear, tha's wot she's for. Her vather an' mawther's dead, my deear, and she've got piles o' money, an' Richard Trezidder es 'er guardian, an' they main 'er to marry Nick. Her vather was Squire Penryn, my deear, an' 'ee was killed, an' 'er mawther died a bit agone, so the Trezidders 'ev got 'er body and soul."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"'Ow do I knaw!" sneered Betsey. "'Ow do I knaw everything?" and this was the way she always answered when I asked her such a question.

"Where is her home?" I asked.

"Where? Up the country somewhere on the north coast. A big 'ous cloas to the say, my deear."

"But Penryn is close to Falmouth."

"'Nother branch ov the fam'ly, my deear; but ther', she nothin' to you. She's good, she's purty, an' she's rich, but she's for Nick Trezidder. Thews Trezidders do bait the Penningtons, don't 'em?" And Betsey laughed again.

But I held my tongue. I determined that I would not tell the secret of my heart, although Betsey's words hurt me like knife-stabs.

"Well, an' when winter do come, what be 'ee goin' to do then, Jasper, an' 'ow be 'ee goin' to git 'nough to buy back Pennington?"

"I must think, Betsey," I said. "I must think. But I'll do it—I'll do it!"

"Aisy spok, but not so aisy done. How?"

"I'll help 'un," said Eli.

"You! 'Ow can you 'elp 'un?"

But Eli only hugged himself and laughed, as though he were tickled. After that but little was said that I can remember.

Before daylight came I went back to the cave. I was sure that neither Betsey nor Eli would tell of my hiding-place. I was glad for this, because I knew that if Dick Tresidder knew where I was I should be taken back to the whipping-post, and perhaps imprisoned. Besides, I was sure that he feared me, and that he would do everything in his power to make me suffer. So I determined to stay in Granfer Fraddam's Cave as long as I could, and I knew that Eli would find out everything about what went on at Pennington and tell me. Looking back now, my conduct seems foolish in the extreme. I could do no good by staying in the cave, I could not get an inch nearer my purpose. It would have been far more sensible to have sailed to some distant land and sought for fortune. And I will admit that I was tempted to do this, and should have left St. Eve, but for a strange longing to stay near Pennington, knowing as I did that Naomi Penryn was there, and that, although I had never spoken to her, I loved the dear maid every hour of my life more and more.

One day, I think it was about a week after I had taken up my abode in the cave, I was sitting at its mouth and looking across the narrow bay, and watching the tide come up, when I was strangely startled. I remember that in dreaming of Naomi Penryn a feeling of despair had come into my heart, for I saw no chance whatever of ever seeing her again, much less speaking to her. Besides, even if it were possible for me to win her love I had no right to do so. Pennington seemed further from my grasp than ever, while Richard Tresidder's hold on it grew stronger day by day. I was thinking of these things when I saw, two or three hundred yards out at sea, standing on a rock, a woman's form. The rock was a large one, and went by the name of "The Spanish Cavalier." It rose from the beach to the height of fifteen feet, and was never covered save at high tides. There was, moreover, a curious place in the rock, not unlike an arm-chair, in which one might sit and watch the shining waves. All around it was grouped a number of smaller rocks, which boatmen always avoided, because driving on them was dangerous.

As I said, I saw on "The Spanish Cavalier" a woman's form, and above the sound of the breakers I heard a cry for help. I did not hurry to the rescue, for the delay of a few seconds could make no difference, the rock was now several feet under water; besides, I was not sure what it meant. At first I could not discern who the woman was, and fancied it might be one of the Misses Archer, or perhaps Richard Tresidder's daughter. But then, I thought, they would know the coast, and would not allow themselves to be caught by the tide in such a way. On looking again, however, my heart gave a great leap—the woman on the rock was Naomi Penryn. A feeling of joy surged through me. At last I had my chance, I should be able to speak to her without let or hindrance. As I have before stated, the cave had but few houses near. Ikey Trethewy's cottage stood at some little distance away from the coppice where the land entrance to the cave had been made, but it was not visible from "The Spanish Cavalier;" another cottage stood further along the coast, but that was more than a mile away; while the other house was Pennington, which was nearly two miles off. Seemingly, there was no other help than my own near, and I rejoiced that it was so. There was no real danger, but she needed my help, and that was all I cared for. So I plunged into the water and was able to wade nearly all the way to the rock. She saw me coming toward her, and I think my presence gave her confidence.

"Do not be afraid," I said, as I came up; "there is no danger. I can easily take you to the shore."

By this time, only my head was visible above the water, but she recognised me. I saw that she shrank from me, too, as though she were afraid. At this a coldness crept into my heart, for I remembered where I stood at the only time she had seen me before.

"I will not hurt you," I said; "I know my way among the rocks, and I can take you easily."

She looked at me again, doubtfully. Most likely she remembered what the Tresidders had said about me.

"I will be very careful," I went on; "and you had better come quickly, for the tide is rising every minute. I know you distrust me, for the Tresidders hate me; but if I did not desire to help you I should not have let you see me, for when they know where I am I shall be in danger."

She lifted her head proudly as though I had angered her, then she looked at me again steadily, and came toward me.

"Is the water very deep?" she asked.

"It is over five feet here," I replied, "but it is shallower a few yards nearer the shore."

"You are sure you can swim with me to shore?" she said.

"I shall not try," I said. "If you will let me, I will hold you above my head. You are not heavy and I—" Then I hesitated, for I did not want to boast.

"Yes, I know you are very strong," she laughed, half fearfully I thought; "but how can you do this?"

"Look," I said; "if you will stand on my shoulders so"—and I placed my back against the rock. "I am afraid your feet will have to be wet, just a little, for my shoulders are in the water. There, that is it; now hold my hands," and I lifted my hands as high above my head as I could.

She did as I bade her; thus we both stood with our faces toward the shore, she standing on my shoulders and stooping a little in order to hold my hands tightly.

It was joy unspeakable to feel the little fingers in mine, for this was the first time that my flesh touched hers, and with the touch a thrill of gladness, the like of which I had never felt before, passed through my whole being.

I carried her safely. At that time rocks and roaring breakers were nothing to me, the buffeting of the waves against my body I felt not one whit! I think she must have felt my great strength, for when I had carried her a few yards she laughed, and the laugh had no fear.

"You feel quite safe?" I asked presently, when I had got away from the rocks.

"Quite safe," she said, and so I carried her on until I stood on the smooth yellow sands, and although the waves still broke, I felt their force not at all, for the thought of her trusting me made my sinews like willow thongs.

Right sorry was I when the water no longer touched my feet, and I must confess that I lingered over the last part of the journey, so pleasant was my burden, and so glad a thing was it to feel her fingers fastening themselves around mine. Perhaps she regarded me as she might regard a fisherman who might have rendered her a similar service, but it did not matter. I, whom she had seen pilloried as a vagrant and a street brawler, held her fast, and my love grew stronger minute by minute.

When I put her on the sands, only her feet were wet, and no one could tell of the position in which she had been.

I shook myself after I had put her down, and I was almost sorry I had done so immediately afterward, for I could see that my condition made her sorry for me, and I did not want to be pitied.

"You must get dry clothes at once," she said.

"I have none," I said, unthinkingly, "save my jacket and waistcoat, which lie on yon rock."

"But you will be very cold."

I laughed gaily. "It is nothing," I said, "the sun will not go down for three hours yet, and before that time my rags will be dry."

"I am very thankful to you," she said; "I cannot swim, and but for you I should have been drowned."

"Oh, no," I replied; "you could have climbed to the top of the rock, and waited till the tide went out again."

"No, I should have been afraid. You have been very kind and very good to me. I was very foolish to get there, but it was very tempting to climb on the rock and sit and watch the sea. I must have fallen asleep in the sun, for I remembered nothing until I felt the cold water beat on me."

"I was not kind or good," I said, roughly. "I thought first it was Emily Tresidder. Had it been, I should not have gone."

"Yes, you would," she said; "you have a kind face. Besides, you should not hate the Tresidders. Mr. Tresidder is my guardian."

"I am sorry for you," I said.

She looked at me steadily, but did not speak.

"I know what you are thinking about," I said. "I was pilloried at Falmouth when you saw me before, and I just escaped being flogged before the crowd. Even now, I suppose, I am being searched for."

"Indeed you are. Do you think you are safe in staying here?"

"It doesn't matter, I suppose; I shall soon be taken."

"Why do you think so?"

"You will, of course, tell Tresidder where I am, and then my liberty must soon come to an end."

I hated myself for speaking so, for I saw her lips tremble, as though I had pained her.

"Is not that unkind?" she said, presently, "and do you not judge the Tresidders wrongly? Have you not provoked them to anger?"

"They have told you about me, then; they have told you that I am a thief, a vagabond, a bully?"

She did not reply, but I knew from the look on her face that I had spoken the truth.

For a second there was a silence between us, then she said, "I thank you very much, and now I must go back to Pennington."

"Not until you hear my story," I said, eagerly.

"Why should you tell me?" she asked.

"Because I do not wish you to judge me wrongly," I said; "because you have known me only as one who is evil and revengeful. Let me tell you the truth."

She did not speak, but she looked at me as if expecting me to go on. So I told her my story eagerly, told it truly, as I have tried to tell it here, only in fewer words.

"And this is true?" she asked, eagerly. "That is," she said, correcting herself, "you are sure you are not mistaken?"

"As God lives, it is true," I replied. "Is it any wonder, then, that I hate the Tresidders, is it any wonder that I should thrash them as I would thrash a yelping, biting cur?"

"Is it brave for a strong man to pounce upon a weaker one?" she asked.

"They were two to one," I replied; "besides, the street was full of people, and he has everything on his side, and I am alone, an outcast, a beggar in my own parish."

"But he has the law on his side."

"Yes; and he has twisted the law to serve his own ends. He and his mother have used vile tools to cheat me."

"And if you could save up half the worth of Pennington you could buy it back."

"I could demand to buy it back. Lawyer Trefry has the copy of the will. I have seen it. That is why they have tried to ruin me."

"And do you say that Nick tried to stab you?" she asked, anxiously.

"I have the knife yet," I replied. "His name is on it. I trusted him to wrestle fair, even though he sought to ruin me. Perhaps I was wrong to hurt him, but I was mad with pain. The mark of the wound is on my chest now. Look," and I showed her the scar.

She shuddered, then she said, "Hate always brings misery, and love always brings joy. You should love your enemies."

"Yes; if a man will fight openly and fairly, I will not hate him. If I wanted to touch an adder with my hand I would not catch him by the tail so that it could curl around and sting my hand; I would catch it just behind the head. It might writhe and wriggle, but I should know that it could not bite me. That is how I want to treat the Tresidders. You despise me," I went on; "you see me now a thing that has to hide like a rabbit in burrow. Well, perhaps it is natural—you live with the Tresidders."

"No, I do not despise you," she said. "I feel for you; I am an orphan just as you are. Of course, Mr. Tresidder is very kind to me, but Pennington is not like home—that is—" Then she stopped as though she had said more than she had intended. "I felt sorry for you when I saw you in Falmouth. Did—did you see me?"

"I saw you—I—I—look, there is Nick Tresidder and his father coming now. I must away!"

We were only partially hidden by the rock, at the side of which we stood. I could see them with sufficient clearness for me to recognise them. They could see us, but I did not think it would be possible for them to tell who we were.

"They are searching for me," she cried. "I have been away from the house a long time."

"Well, go to them," I said.

"But they have seen that there are two of us. Do you think they know us from this distance?"

"No, we have been partly hidden."

"But if I go, they will ask who has been with me."

"Do you not wish to tell them?"

"If I do you will be in danger. If they know you are near you will be hunted down. They think you have left the country."

"You can save me if you will," I cried, eagerly.

"I will do what I can!"

"Come, then—there, keep behind these rocks until we get to the cliffs. Go quickly."

She obeyed me eagerly, and a few seconds later we stood behind a great jagged promontory.

"Did they see us, do you think?"

"Yes, they saw us, but they could not have recognised us; or I fancy not," I added, for I had my fears; "but come, walk on the shingle so that they cannot trace your footsteps. That is it."

We came close to the cave where my clothes lay. These I picked up with a feeling of relief.

"We are safe now," I said.

"No," she cried; "they will soon come up, and can easily find us."

For she had not seen the mouth of Granfer Fraddam's Cave, although it was close to her. I was glad of this, for it told me how safe my hiding-place was, and showed that the opening was so curiously hidden that a stranger might pass it a hundred times and not see it. So I helped her to climb up the cliff until I got to a small platform, and afterward passed along the fissure between the rocks and drew her after me, and then, when she had followed me a few steps, she saw how cunningly Nature had concealed the place, and fearful as she was, she uttered a low exclamation of pleased surprise. For from this place we could see without being seen, even although we were not inside the cave itself.

Excited as I was, for my heart was beating fast and my head throbbed at the same rate, I wondered at my good fortune in making her my friend. For her willingness to come with me, rather than to expose me to the Tresidders, showed that she was my friend, and my gladness at the thought was beyond all words. At the same time I could not help fearing for her. If either Nick Tresidder or his father had recognised her, she would be exposed to many awkward questionings, which would be hard for her to answer; neither did I desire that she should have to suffer for me. I marvelled greatly, too, that she should have understood the situation so easily, and that, in spite of all my enemies must have said, she seemed to trust me so implicitly. I remembered, however, that she would, perhaps, feel grateful to me for rescuing her from her awkward position on "The Spanish Cavalier," and that she would be anxious that my action should not bring any harm to me. And while this thought did not bring me so much pleasure as it ought, it showed me that the Tresidders had not altogether poisoned her mind against me.

Although it has taken me some minutes to write down these thoughts, they passed through my mind very rapidly.

"They cannot see us here," she said, questioningly, "neither can they find us?"

"Not unless they know the cave," I replied.

"Oh, I hope not," was her response, and although Tresidder was her guardian and Pennington was her home, it did not feel strange at that moment that she should be hiding with me, who was being sought for by the minions of the law.

The sea was by this time getting nearer the foot of the cliff, and there was now only twenty feet of shingle between water and land. So I stood and watched, but I could not as yet see them, for the promontory, behind which we had first hidden, stood between us and them.

"Do you see them?"

"Not yet," I replied, "they have had scarcely time to get here yet, but I think they will soon be here."

As I spoke I looked on her face, the most beauteous I had ever seen, and when I remembered what she had done to shield me my love grew more fervent. For I had no claim on her, who was a stranger, save that I had carried her to the shore, which of course was nothing. By that I mean to say it was nothing for which she should serve me; rather it was I who owed gratitude to her, for my joy at serving her made my heart leap in my bosom, until I could even then have sung aloud for gladness.

"Are they coming?" she asked again, presently.

"Yes, they are close to us," I replied, for at that moment they had passed the rock by which we had at first stood.



CHAPTER VI

I DISCOVER ANOTHER CAVE, AND HEAR A CONVERSATION BETWEEN RICHARD TRESIDDER AND HIS SON

"I am sure I saw a man and woman," I heard Nick Tresidder say.

"I thought I did, too," replied his father; "but we must have been mistaken, I suppose. Of course, they could have got behind Great Bear and then kept along under the cliff."

"Then they must have gone past, for they are nowhere to be seen."

"Perhaps they wanted to hurry to be before the tide."

"Yes; I suppose that must be it," replied Nick, doubtfully.

"Still, I don't know that it matters. We should not have troubled at all if we hadn't thought it might be Naomi."

"No; where can she be, I wonder?"

"She's a strange girl, Nick. She doesn't seem to feel happy at Pennington, neither does she make friends with Emily. She's always roaming among the woods or along the beach. I shouldn't wonder at all if she hasn't lost herself among the woods. You must be careful, my lad."

"Oh, it's all right, there's no danger. I say, do you know that Jacob Buddie told me he believed he saw Jasper Pennington in the lane outside Betsey Fraddam's house last night?"

"I don't believe it; we've got rid of him effectually. But we must hurry on, Nick, we've just time to get to Granfer Fraddam's path before the tide gets in."

"Yes, it's a good way on. Isn't Granfer Fraddam's Cave here somewhere?"

"I've my doubts whether there is such a place. There may have been such a cave in the old man's time, but lots of ground has fallen in during the past fifty years. Anyhow, I've often searched along the coast and could never find it."

"But it's around here that the noises have been heard. You know people say it's haunted by the old man's ghost."

"Well, I've never been able to find it."

They hurried on, and I gave a sigh of relief.

"Are they gone?" asked Naomi.

"Yes, they are gone; they don't know anything. It will take them a long while to get home. It's a long way to Pennington by Granfer Fraddam's path. The cliff is steep, too."

"But I must go now," she said, anxiously.

"You shall get home before they can," I said, eagerly.

"I will take you through another opening. You will know another secret of this cave then. You see, I trust you wholly, and you will know my hiding-place almost as well as I know it myself."

"But do you live here?"

Then I told her what I had to do, and how Eli Fraddam brought food to me, and how when winter came I should have to make other plans.

She listened quietly, and said no word, but allowed me to lead her up the cave until we reached the copse of which I have spoken. We were still hidden from sight, for the bushes grew thick, and the trees were large and had abundant foliage. She held out her hand to say good-bye.

"I shall remember your kindness," she said.

"And do not think too hardly about me," I pleaded, "remember what I have had to suffer."

"I shall think of you very kindly," was her response; "not that it matters to you," she added. "We are strangers, most probably we shall never meet again, and the opinion of a stranger cannot help you."

"It is more than you can think," I answered, eagerly. "When I saw that look of sympathy on your face when I stood in the pillory at Falmouth it made everything easier to bear. Besides, you say you will stay at Pennington, and I look upon Pennington as my home."

"Yes; but surely you will not stay here. It cannot be right for a man to idle away his time as you are idling it; besides, you can never win back Pennington thus. If I were you I would find work, and I would honourably make my way back to fortune."

"But the Tresidders will not allow me," I replied, stung into shame by her words, "they have always put obstacles in my path."

"Then I would go where the Tresidders could not harm me," she cried, and then she went away, as though I were the merest commonplace stranger, as indeed I was.

I mused afterward that she did not even tell me her name, although she had no means of knowing that I had found it out, neither did she tell me that she would keep the secret of my hiding-place from my enemies. And more than all this, she bade me leave St. Eve, where I should be away from her, although my longings grew stronger to stay by her side. All this made me very weary of life, and I went back to the mouth of the cave and sat watching the sea as it rose higher and higher around "The Spanish Cavalier," and wondered with a weary heart what I should do.

When night came on Eli Fraddam brought me food, and sat by me while I ate it, looking all the while up into my face with his strange wild eyes.

"Jasper missuble," he grunted, presently.

"Yes, Eli," I said, "everything and everybody is against me."

"I knaw! I knaw!" cried Eli, as though a new thought had struck him, "I'll 'elp 'ee, Jasper; I'll vind out!"

"Find out what, Eli?"

But he would not answer. He hugged himself as though he were vastly pleased, and laughed, in his low guttural way, and after a time took his departure.

When I was left alone, I tried to think of my plans for the future, for Naomi's words kept ringing in my ears, "If I were you I would find work, and I would honourably make my way back to fortune." I saw now that for a year I had acted like a madman. Instead of meeting my reverses bravely, I had acted like a coward. I had sunk in the estimation of others as well as in my own. I had loafed around the lanes, and had made friends with the idle and the dissolute. Even my plans for vengeance were those of a savage. I, Jasper Pennington, could think of no other way of punishing my enemies than by mastering them with sheer brute force. Besides, all the time I had made no step toward winning back my home, and thus obeying my father's wishes. I felt this, too; I had deservedly lost the esteem of the people. I had become what the Tresidders said I was. I saw myself a vagrant and a savage, and although my fate had been hard, I deserved the punishment I was then suffering. I had forgotten that I was a Pennington, forgotten that I was a gentleman.

But what could I do? Houseless, homeless, friendless, except for the friendship of Eli Fraddam and his mother, and practically outlawed, what was there that I, Jasper Pennington, could put my hand to? I could not tell. The possibility of honourably making my way back to fortune seemed a dream impossible to be fulfilled.

For a long time I sat brooding, while the candle which Eli had brought burnt lower and lower, and finally went out. The darkness stirred new thoughts within me. Hitherto I had not troubled about Granfer Fraddam's ghost haunting the cave. The wind which wailed its way up through the cave till it found vent in the copse above explained the sounds which had been heard. But now all the stories which I had heard came back to me. Did Granfer Fraddam die there? and did his ghost haunt this dreary cavern? Even then I might be sitting on the very spot where he had died.

I started up and lit another candle. I looked around me, and shuddered at the black, forbidding sides of the cavern, then leaving the candle to cast its ghostly light around I crept toward the entrance. I saw the sea lapping the black rocks around, and heard its dismal surge. Then I heard a rushing noise whir past me, and it seemed as though a ghostly hand had struck my face. Directly afterward I heard a cry which made the blood run cold in my veins. Most likely it was only a seagull which I had frightened from its resting-place among the rocks, but to me it was the shriek of a lost soul.

Trembling, I found my way back to the cave again, where the candle still burnt, and cast its flickering light around. I was afraid to stay there any longer, and determined to get out by way of the copse. I had gone but a few steps in this direction, when I saw what had hitherto escaped my notice. It was a hole in the side of the cave, large enough for anybody to pass easily. For a moment curiosity overcame my fears, and I made my way toward it. Holding my candle close to the hole, I found that I was out of the current of air, and I saw that this was the entrance to another cave. But it was different from the one in which I had been hiding. It looked as though it had been hollowed out by the hands of man rather than by nature. This fact lessened my ghostly fears, and I entered it, and in doing so thought I detected a strange smell. A minute later, and my astonishment knew no bounds. Lying at my feet in this inner cave were casks of spirits and wines. There were, I afterward discovered, many other things there too. There were great packages of tobacco, and bales of stuff which at that time I did not understand. It was evident that Granfer Fraddam's trade was not abandoned, although it was thought that smuggling was not carried on to any extent in the neighbourhood of St. Eve. It is true that many things were obtained in the neighbourhood which the Preventive officers could not account for, but that was understood to be owing to Jack Truscott's gang, who defied the law, and did many wild deeds down by the Lizard and at Kynance. At Polventor the Preventive men were very keen, so keen were they that the dozen or two fishermen who lived there were not, as far as I knew, in any way suspected of unlawful deeds. And Polventor was the only fishing village within three miles of our parish where it seemed possible for smuggling to be carried on.

Not that we thought hardly of the smugglers, even of Jack Truscott and his men. We all regarded the law as very unjust, and owing to the fact that many things were obtained in the parish very cheaply by them, we winked at their doings, and looked sourly on the Preventive men and their doings. At the same time, as far as I knew, no one dreamed of smuggling being carried on near the coast of St. Eve. Thus it was that Granfer Fraddam's Cave was a mere tradition, and many people thought that the King's officers ought to be removed to some other part of the coast, where there would be some necessity for their existence.

I thought long of these things, and presently came to the conclusion that this cave was used as a kind of storage-place by some smuggler's gang. Probably this was one of Jack Truscott's many hiding-places, and would be used by him when the Government spies were busy watching elsewhere.

Anyhow, my discovery made me think of the cave more as the home of the living than the dead, and thus fears were dispelled. It is true my solitude might at any time be broken by a gang of desperate men, but that did not trouble me. So I fetched the blanket which old Betsey had lent me and took it into this inner cave, and after a while went to sleep.

Eli Fraddam brought some food to me again in the morning, but I did not tell him what I had discovered through the night, neither did I encourage him to stay. Usually he had sat with me for hours, and had talked with me in his strange disconnected way, but this morning he saw that I wanted to be alone, so, after patting and fondling my hands lovingly, he left me. All through the day I tried to make up my mind what to do, but no feasible plan came into my mind. I did not fear any difficulty in getting food and clothes, but how to raise money to buy back Pennington I knew not.

Toward evening I left the cave and clambered down the rocks until I got to the beach. I had scarcely done so when a package lying by a rock caught my eye. I tore off the wrapper, wondering what it was, and soon discovered that it contained food. I eagerly examined it, and presently saw a scrap of clean white paper. On it was written these words:

"To stay where you are must be useless. Search has not been abandoned, for you have been seen. There can be no hope of success while you remain in St. Eve. You saved me, and I would help you. Good-bye."

Now this comforted me greatly, for it told me that Naomi Penryn had not forgotten me, and that she felt friendly toward me. The food, delicate as it was compared with what I had been eating, I cared not for, except only because she had brought it. My excitement took away all desire to eat, and again I went back to the cave to think of what I should do. For this thought came constantly into my mind, the Tresidders intended her for Nick, and my determination was that she should never marry a Tresidder. Moreover, I fancied, from her own words, and from what I had heard Richard Tresidder say to his son, she was not happy at Pennington. If I went away I should be powerless to help her if she needed help. She was but a girl of eighteen, and she was wholly under the control of the Tresidders. Yet how could I help her by remaining where I was; nay, rather, it was impossible for me to do this.

After some time I settled on a plan; I would leave my cave before it was light, and would walk to Fowey. When there, I would try and get a place as a sailor. I thought I knew enough of a sailor's duties to satisfy the captain of a trading ship. Then, by the time the first voyage was over, I should no longer be sought by the Tresidders, and the affair at Falmouth would be forgotten. I would then come back and see if Naomi Penryn needed help. I should not be away more than a few months, and I did not think that Nick Tresidder or his father would seek to carry out their plans concerning her for at least a year.

I had scarcely settled this in my mind when I heard voices outside the cave. Wondering what it might mean I crept to the opening, and, looking out, saw Richard Tresidder and his son, Nick, standing and talking with two Preventive men. A great rock hid me from their sight, besides which I was at least twelve feet above them.

"You say you've searched all around here for a cave?" asked Richard Tresidder.

"All round, sur," replied one of the officers. "Ther's smugglin' done 'long 'ere right 'nough, but I've my doubts 'bout Granfer Fraddam's Caave as et es called. Ther's not an inch 'long the coast here that we 'ain't a-seed; we've found lots of caaves, but nothin' like people do talk about. As for this cove, where people say et es, why look for yerself, sur, ther's no sign of it. We can see every yard of the little bay here, but as fer Granfer Fraddam's Caave, well, that's all wind, I'm a-thinkin'."

"I'm of the same opinion myself. Still, I thought we'd better come and make sure, that was why I asked you to come."

"That's oal right, sur, glad are we to do anything to 'elp 'ee. But ther's plaaces furder down, sur, and they must be watched."

"Do you not think you are mistaken?" I heard Richard Tresidder say; "there has been no smuggling done here since Granfer Fraddam's days. There is plenty of it done at the Lizard, and at Kynance, and right down to St. Michael's Mount to Penzance Harbour, but there is none here."

"But there es, Maaster Tresidder. Not a week agone a boat-load of sperits was landed at Polventor."

"At Polventor! Why, I thought you kept a sharp look-out there. Besides, only fisher folk live there."

"'Iss, but tes they fishermen that do do et. Ye see, they go out so they zay to catch fish, and then afore mornin' they do come across the big smugglers' boats, and taake the things to the coves they do know 'bout. They be all of a piece, Maaster Tresidder."

"Well, keep a sharp look-out, Grose, and bring them before me, and I'll see that they don't do any more smuggling for a few months."

"I'm glad we've 'ad this 'ere talk, sur, you bein' a majistraate. But we must be off, sur."

"Good-afternoon. By the way, if you call at Pennington to-night about ten I shall be glad to see you. You will perhaps be able to report progress by that time."

"Thank 'ee kindly, sur. Good afternoon."

Richard Tresidder and his son Nick then sat down on a rock near, and both began to smoke, and then, when the Preventive officers were out of sight, they laughed merrily.

"I wonder if they know that the grog they have drunk at Pennington was made of smuggled brandy?" asked the father.

"Not they. Why, you are noted for your hardness on law-breakers."

"Just so. By the way, you have heard no more about Jasper, I suppose? I heard last night he was hiding in Granfer Fraddam's Cave, that was why I got those fellows to search for the place."

"Nothing definite. It's believed that he's around here somewhere, but where I don't know. The fellow is mad, I think. It would be better for him to clear off altogether. The sentence is a flogging and then another trial, isn't it?"

"Yes; but nothing is being done. I believe if he were caught he would be allowed to go free. I don't believe they want to catch him."

"You see, the people think he's been badly treated, and Lawyer Trefry has blabbed about old Pennington's will. Everybody says now that you've done your utmost to keep him poor. Why in the world didn't grandmother get him to give it you out and out? If the beggar should have a stroke of luck he might get it for a few thousands."

"But where can he get them now? His last chance is gone. What can a lad, without money, home, or friends, do? That's settled all right."

"I don't know about that. He's clever and he's determined. Why did he continue to stay around here? He must have something in his mind."

"He's a fool, that's all. He has a savage sort of idea that by watching me he's taking care of his own interests. That shows what a short-sighted fellow he is. If he'd brains he'd have acted otherwise. You will see, he'll get himself in the clutches of the law again, and then—I'll manage him."

"But if we can't find him? I tell you Jasper isn't a fool, and he knows our purposes by this time."

"Well, Nick, you've got your chance. A rich wife and three years to win her in, my boy. I'm her guardian till she's twenty-one, and I'll take care no one else gets her. A pretty girl is Naomi, too; rather awkward to manage, and a bit fiery, but all the better to suit you."

"And she doesn't like me," replied Nick.

"Make her like you, my boy. Be a bit diplomatic, and play to win. Besides, you must win!"

"Did you notice how funny she was last night? I asked her where she had been, and she seemed to regard my question as a liberty. And did you see how eager she was when we were talking about Jasper afterward?"

"But she knows nothing about him. She never saw him."

"Yes, she saw him pilloried in Falmouth. She thinks him treated badly. She has all sorts of funny ideas about justice."

"Of course, all silly girls have; that's nothing. At the same time, Nick, this shows you must play carefully. I don't want any complications in getting her money, and mind you, that money I must have, or we are all in deep water."

"What do you mean?"

"This. We can't raise sixpence, that is legally, on Pennington. There are simply the rents. Well, this split up into several parts is very little. So—" he hesitated.

"So what?" asked Nick, eagerly.

"I've speculated."

"On what?"

"On mines. So far, they've turned out badly. I'm involved in a heavy outlay. At first the affair seemed certain. It may turn out all right now, I don't know, but I tell you I'm neck deep—neck deep. I can hold on for a year or so, and you must get Naomi's money, or I'm done for."

"But you've got her money?"

"Yes, and, as her guardian, I'll have to give an account of it."

"Look here, father, tell me all about it. I don't like acting in the dark. How and why did Naomi come to Pennington, and what is the true condition of affairs? I want to know."

"Another time, Nick."

"No, now."

"Very well, I may as well tell you now."



CHAPTER VII

I HEAR RICHARD TRESIDDER TELL NAOMI PENRYN'S HISTORY, AND AM IN DANGER OF BEING KILLED BY SMUGGLERS

Richard Tressider slowly filled his pipe again, and seemed to be collecting his thoughts before telling his son what was in his mind.

"Her home, as you know, is at Trevose, not far from Trevose Head," he said, presently. "The house is a funny old place—as lonely as a churchyard and as bleak as a mountain peak. It seems a strange idea to build a big house like that on a rocky eminence, but the Penryns have always been a strange people. However, it is said that the Penryn who built the house back in Oliver Cromwell's days kept ships for strange purposes, and that he had curious dealings with 'gentlemen of fortune.'"

"Pirates do you mean?"

"Better let them be unnamed. Anyhow, from the tower of the house you can see many miles up and down the coast—as far as Bude Harbour on the one hand, and Gurnard's Head on the other. There is some very good land belonging to the estate, too."

"Much?" asked Nick.

"More than belongs to Pennington by a long way, my boy. The rents are handsome, I can assure you."

"Well, go on."

"The Penryns have always been a hot-tempered, impatient race, and Naomi's father was no exception to the rule. He was the only child, too, and from what I can gather spoiled. Well, he waited until he was over thirty before he got married; indeed, both his parents were dead before he saw Naomi's mother. By the time a man is thirty his habits are settled, and he's generally unfit for marriage; people should marry at twenty-five at latest."

"And who was Naomi's mother?"

"She was a widow of a cousin of mine, George Tresidder of Lelant."

"Well?"

"Well, she had what most women possess, a nasty, rasping, irritating tongue, and a temper that would have done credit to Beelzebub's wife, if there is such a lady. I know that, because I've had several interviews with her. I've managed a good many women in my day, but never one who was so difficult as she. Anyhow, John Penryn and she lived a cat-and-dog life. John, I suppose, was a fine fellow in his way, but imperious, impatient, and at times unreasonable. He couldn't bear being crossed, and she was everlastingly crossing him. He was the soul of generosity, and directly after his marriage made a most generous will. He left everything unconditionally to his wife."

"Go on, you are awfully slow," cried Nick.

"They had been married about seven months when a terrible thing happened. You were very young at the time, and would, of course, know nothing about it. Penryn had a fearful quarrel with his wife. It was simply terrible, and the servants were very much frightened, especially as John's wife was expected to become a mother. Anyhow, she taunted him with being unfaithful to her, and irritated him so with invective and abuse that, forgetting everything, he tried to crush her by brute force. Of course, in her state this was a mad thing to do, especially as she was very weak and delicate; anyhow, she fell like one dead on the floor. A doctor was sent for, and he declared that life was extinct. I suppose the poor fellow's anguish was terrible; anyhow, when he heard of the doctor's words, he seemed to lose his senses altogether. That night he committed suicide."

"Suicide! Whew!" cried Nick.

"Yes; he threw himself over the cliffs at Trevose Head. When his body was discovered it was much bruised and battered. Of course the affair was hushed up, and it was made out to be an accident, but no one was deceived."

"But about the woman?"

"Well, I suppose she lay like one in a trance for some considerable time, and it is said that all arrangements were made for her funeral. Presently, however, she gave signs of life, and in course of time Naomi was born."

"And the mother lived?"

"My dear Nick, you'll find that it'll take a great deal to kill a woman. Yes, she lived and enjoyed a fair amount of health. I suppose, too, that her conduct improved, at least I was told so; still, as I said, I found her difficult to manage."

"But you did manage her?"

"When I set my mind on a thing I generally do get my own way; but I think it would have been impossible in this case but for mother."

"What, granny?"

"Yes, she took the matter in hand, and together we got on fairly well."

"Yes, but by what means did you establish a claim on her sympathies? She had other relations!"

"It would take a long time to tell. Indeed, it has been a work of years. I've had to visit Trevose many times, and have suffered more abuse than I care to tell about. However, before she died the will was made all right."

"How?" asked Nick, eagerly.

"Well, in this way. Everything is given to Naomi, and I am constituted her sole guardian. She cannot marry until she's twenty-one without my consent."

"I see."

"If she dies everything comes to me."

"What!"

"Yes, mother worked that. I despaired of reaching that point; but you know what your granny is. She pleaded that I was a cousin, and a hundred other things. Besides, mother has a strange power over people."

"Then it seems to me everything is safe."

"Yes, if matters go right. She is now eighteen; if you marry her before she's twenty-one all's well, but if not, then when she arrives at that age the lawyer who has to do with the estates will naturally want everything accounted for. Naomi's a sharp girl, and I shall have to give an account of my stewardship."

"Her mother was a Catholic, I suppose?"

"Yes, that was a difficult point. Still we promised that Naomi's religious views should not be interfered with, and also that a priest shall visit the house occasionally."

"He will want her to marry a Catholic."

"Undoubtedly; but, honestly, I don't believe Naomi troubles about the fine distinction in religious beliefs. The priest wanted to persuade her mother that the child ought to be placed in Mawgan Convent, and her property given to the Church. I thought once the wily rascal would have succeeded, but fortunately mother was in the house at the time."

They sat for some little time without speaking; then Richard Tresidder spoke again.

"You are a bit in love with her, arn't you, Nick?"

"More than a little bit, and she knows it, too."

"Well, be careful, my boy, be very careful. If we can get Trevose—well, it's a nice thing, isn't it? But we must be careful. You are no fool, Nick; Naomi has her little weaknesses like other folks; find 'em out and humour 'em. Now you know how things are, and we must be going or we shall be caught by the tide. There'll be a high tide to-night, too."

Then they went away, leaving me to think over what they had said, and I must confess that my mind was much disturbed by their words. I do not pretend to have the lawyer-like power of seeing where many things lead to, but I did see, or rather I fancied I saw, the meaning of the conversation I had heard, and which, according to the best of my ability, I have faithfully described. I saw that Naomi was brought to this house because of her money. I saw, too, that every sort of pressure would be brought to bear upon her to make her marry Nick Tresidder, and I felt assured that did not fair means succeed, foul ones would be used. And what troubled me most was that I could do nothing. Evidently the Tresidders were still searching for me, and, if I were caught, they would, in spite of the friends I still possessed, try to render me more helpless than ever.

Besides, how would the poor, helpless maid be able to resist the pleadings of Nick Tresidder, backed up as they would be by the cunning and stratagem of the woman who had caused my grandfather to disinherit his own son? These questions, as may be imagined, greatly exercised my mind, so much so that I forgot all about my plans to travel through the night to Fowey and to try and get a berth as a sailor on a trading vessel.

Presently night came on, and I felt faint and weak. Then I remembered that I had eaten nothing for many hours, and so I turned with great gladness of heart to the food which I believe Naomi had brought with her own hands to the rocks which stood at the foot of the cliff under the mouth of my hiding-place. When I had eaten I went into the inner cave, and lay a-thinking again and again of what I must do. I recalled to mind the words that had passed between Naomi and me, of the joy I had felt when she was by my side, and especially of the time when I held her hands in mine; and then I thought of what I had heard spoken between Tresidder and his son, and not being, as I have said, quick at thinking, my mind presently became a blank, and I fell asleep.

How long I slept I know not, but I was awoke by the sound of voices, and of footsteps near me, but the first thing of which I have a clear recollection was a kick on the shin, and a voice saying, "Bless my soul 'n body, what es this?"

I jumped to my feet and saw two men before me in rough seamen's clothes, and with high jack-boots. I did not know them at all, and so I concluded that they were strangers to our part of the county. They were not altogether ill-favoured men, although I could not help feeling that there was a kind of reckless expression on their faces which was not common among Cornish fisherfolk.

"And who might you be?" asked one presently, after staring at me for some time as if in blank astonishment.

By this time I had mastered the amazement which for the moment had overcome me, and had surmised who they were. Undoubtedly they were the smugglers who infested the coast, and who knew the secret of Granfer Fraddam's Cave. Probably they belonged to Jack Truscott's famous gang, and had brought a cargo of goods that very night. I heard the swish of the waves rushing up the cave, so I knew the tide was high.

I measured the men, too, from a wrestler's standpoint, and calculated their strength from the size of their bare arms, and the breadth of their chests. All the fear that had come into my heart left me. Living men did not frighten me.

"I might as well ask who you are," I replied coolly.

"Oh, tha's yer soarts, es et? Well, I think we may, so we'll tell 'ee, es you'll never go out of this 'ere place a livin' man."

"Never go out a living man. Why, pray?"

"Well, 'cos you do knaw too much, tha's why. This caave es wot you call convainient. See, matey? Well, ef other people wos to knaw 'bout et, twudden be convainient."

"I quite understand. You are smugglers, and wreckers most likely. Perhaps even worse than that. Perhaps you belong to Jack Truscott's gang. Ah, I see you do. Well, your idea is to kill me because I have found your hiding-place."

"That's ev et. Generally we be'ant cruel men, we be'ant. But some things must be done. You zee, dead men kip their saicrets well; livin' ones do'ant. You be a curyus-looking cove, ragged 'nough for a vuss cutter, but you be'ant owr soart."

"No," I said, coolly, "I'm not your sort."

"And you'd splet on us the fust fair chance you got, I spect?"

"Probably."

"Well, that settles et, and so—" He drew his finger across his throat significantly.

I must confess that a curious sensation came into my heart; but I did not betray any fear, and after a few seconds I was able to speak steadily.

"You've done that kind of thing before, I expect?" I said, watching the spokesman's face closely.

"Sam have done et a vew times," he said, looking significantly at his companion, "I do'ant do et oftener than I can 'elp."

The man called Sam grinned, as though he was proud of his distinction.

"In cold blood?" I queried. I kept on asking these questions, because I wanted to gain time. I had heard of many bloody deeds being done off the Lizard, but, as I said, the coast of St. Eve had been regarded as quiet and free from violent men and violent deeds ever since Granfer Fraddam died.

"We'd ruther do et in hot fight," said the man, with a curious twitch of his lips, "a good bit ruther. Et do come aisier that way; but there, we ca'ant allays pick and choose."

I have not inserted the epithets with which they garnished their words, neither can I describe the careless way in which they spoke of murder. But in my heart came a great loathing for them, and a desire to be even with them.

Both of them stood between me and the outer cave, one of them holding a smuggler's lantern in his hand, and the man called Sam whispered something in the other's ear.

"Do you knaw what Sam's bin sayin'?" said the smuggler to me presently.

"No."

"He ses, 'Bill Lurgy,' ses 'ee, 'tha's a daicent fella, an' we do'ant want to cut hes windpipe. Git 'im to jine us.'"

"To join you!" I said with a sneer, for I thought of Naomi just then.

"Oh, I zee. I thot zo. Well, then, that settles et."

"Settles what?"

"This business. You zee, we mus' be olf. I spoase you knaw oal 'bout this caave?"

"Yes."

"Saicret way out?"

I nodded.

Sam took a huge knife which hung in a sheath by his side.

"I'm right sorry for this, matey," said Bill Lurgy. "If you'd a promist to jine us, we cud a kipt 'ee ere till the Cap'n comed, an' then 'ee might 'ave tooked 'ee on. Besides, ther's a special cargo comin' in d'reckly, defferent to this," he added, looking at the ankers of spirits in the cave; "in fact, it's a fortin to we pore chaps."

"And I'm to be killed?" I said.

"You mus' be. Sam Liddicoat 'll 'ave to do et," he said, as coolly as though I were a chicken he intended to kill for a dinner.

"Then I tell you, I'm not," I said, quietly.

"How be 'ee goin' to git away, my sonny? It's 'bout wawn o'clock in the mornin' now. Nobody 'll come 'ere but chaps like we."

I made a leap at Sam Liddicoat suddenly, and struck him a stunning blow, which sent him with great force against the side of the cave. Then I turned to Bill Lurgy. My idea was to master him before Sam should recover, and then escape up the secret way to the copse. Bill leapt on me like a mad bull. "Oa, tha's yer soarts, es et?" he cried. "Well, I zed I'd ruther do et in 'ot fight."

I had not been struggling with Bill Lurgy more than a few seconds before I had mastered him. As I said, the Penningtons are a large race, and Bill Lurgy, strong man as he was, became but a child in my hands. He went on the floor of the cave with a thud, and then I fastened my hands around his throat. I felt mad at the moment, and, remembering that time, I can quite understand how men, when driven to extremities, can forget the sacredness of human life. But in mastering Bill I had forgotten Sam Liddicoat, whom I had struck down before he was aware of my intentions.

Hearing a sound behind me, I turned, and saw Sam with his knife uplifted. Whether I should have been able to save myself or no, I know not; I have sometimes thought it would have been impossible. Anyhow, Sam did not strike. He was startled, as I was, by a voice in the cave.

"No, Sam, no!"

We both turned and saw a man about fifty years of age. He was below the medium height, and although hardy and agile, apparently possessed no physical strength above the average. He had a large head, well shaped, while his features were clearly cut and, I thought, pleasing. His face, too, was cleanly shaved, and he was dressed with some amount of care. The only thing that was strange about him was the curious colour of his eyes. They were light gray, so light that sometimes they looked white.

He entered the inner cave as though he knew it well, and spoke very quietly.

"What, Sam," he said, in a honeyed voice, "wud you 'ave done a thing like that? Strick un down in a moment wethout givin' ev'n a chance to say hes prayers and to make hes paice, so to spaik? No, Sam; that wud never do!"

"He nearly killed me, cap'n," grunted Sam.

"Iss, an' what ef a did? Remember the Scripters, an' turn the other cheek, so to spaik."

By this time Bill Lurgy had got up, and, seeming to understand the situation, slunk to the entrance of the inner cave.

"An' wad'n you to blaame, too?" he said, turning to me. "Never be rash, young man, an' remember that a soft answer turneth away wrath."

I must confess that I was at a loss to understand this mild-spoken man, and had not Sam called him "Cap'n," I should have thought him one of those foolish people converted by the Methodists.

"Are you Cap'n Jack Truscott?" I asked.

"Well, and what if I be, sonny? Law, I bean't pertikler, ye knaw. Spoase some people do call me Cap'n Jack Truscott, or spoase others do call me Jack Fraddam, what do I care? I'm a man as es friends weth everybody, my deear—tha's what I be. An' you, you be Jasper Pennington, who've been robbed of yer rights, my deear."

"How do you know?"

"How do I knaw? Oa, I pick up things goin' about. I do—lots ov things. I knawed 'ee as soon as I zee'd 'ee tackle they two chaps. Why, 'twud 'a' gone to my 'art for Sam to 'ave knifed 'ee, my deear. You was born to live a good ould age, and die in bed at Pennington, in the best room, my deear, with yer cheldern and grancheldern cal around 'ee, ould an' well stricken in eres. Tha's your lot, Maaster Jasper. Besides, I'm a man of paice, I be: I love paice 'n' quietness; I like love an' brotherly 'fection, I do!"

I looked at him again in amazement, for I had heard of deeds which Captain Jack Truscott had done that were terrible enough to make one's blood run cold. It was reported that he had a house in a gully which runs up from Kynance Cove, which was the meeting-place for the wildest outlaws of the county. Folks said, moreover, that he owned a vessel which hoisted a black flag.

"Ah, I zee, my deear," said Captain Jack, pathetically; "people 'ave bin 'busin' me. I allays 'ave bin 'bused, my deear, but I do comfort myself, I do, for what do the Scripters say?—'Blessed are they that are abused.' I ain't a-got the words zackly, but the mainin', my deear, the mainin' es right, and that's the chief thing, ed'n et, then?"

In spite of myself the man fascinated me. There was a mixture of mockery and sincerity in his voice, as though he half believed in his pious sayings; moreover, he was very cool and collected. His white eyes wandered all over the cave, and exchanged meaning glances with the two men with whom I had been struggling, but I knew that he was watching me all the time. He must have known that he was in danger of being taken by the Preventive men, but he spoke with the calm assurance of an innocent man.

"Well," I said, "what do you intend doing with me? You are three to one, and I am unarmed."

"There you be spaikin' vexed now. Wha's the use of that?"

"No wonder, when your men were trying to kill me, and would, perhaps, if you hadn't come just then."

"No; they wouldn't, my deear. I was watching; I zeed the man they'd got to dail weth—fresh as paint, my deear, and shinin' like a makerl's back. Plenty of rail good fight; and I like that, though I be a man of paice, Jasper Pennington, my deear."

I waited for him to go on, and although I was much excited, and scarcely expected to live until morning, I managed to meet his white eyes without shrinking.

"Spoasing you go out, Bill and Sam, my sonnies," said Cap'n Jack. "Don't go fur away, my deears; we cudden bear that, could us, Jasper? Do 'ee smok' then, Jasper? I zee you do. Lots of baccy 'ere, an' pipes too. Well, this es oncommon lucky. Well, lev us load up, I zay."

Thinking it well to agree with him, I filled a pipe with tobacco and lit it while Cap'n Jack, with evident satisfaction, smoked peacefully. He sat opposite me, and I waited for him to speak.



CHAPTER VIII

I GO TO KYNANCE COVE WITH CAP'N JACK TRUSCOTT'S GANG, AND MEET HIS DAUGHTER TAMSIN

"This ed'n bad bacca, es it, then?" remarked Cap'n Jack, after he had smoked peacefully for a few seconds.

"No," I replied; "as far as I'm a judge, it's very good." I spoke as coolly as I could, although to be truthful I might as well have been smoking dried oak leaves. I could not help realising that my case might be desperate. I had heard that Cap'n Jack's gang were governed by no laws, legal or moral, save those which this man himself made. If I failed, therefore, to fall in with his plans, in all probability Sam Liddicoat and Bill Lurgy would be called in to complete the work which they had attempted a little while before. I could not understand a smuggler, a wrecker, and probably a pirate with pious words upon his lips; the idea of a man whose hands were red with crime talking about peace, mercy, and loving-kindness was, to say the least, strange, and I could not repress a shudder.

After his remark about the quality of the tobacco Cap'n Jack continued puffing away in silence, occasionally casting furtive glances at me. The place was very silent, save for the swish of the waves, as they poured into the outer cave, and rolled the pebbles as they came. It was now past midnight, but the month being September, there would be no light for several hours.

At length Cap'n Jack looked at a huge silver watch, which he had taken from his pocket, and seemed to be making some mental calculations.

"Fine and loanly, ed'n et, Jasper?" he remarked.

"Very."

"This es a very loanly caave. I thot nobody knawed anything 'bout et, 'ciptin' our chaps and Betsey and Eli."

"Betsey?"

"Iss, aw Betsey do knaw everything. Besides, Granfer Fraddam was—you zee et do run in the family!"

I said nothing, but I called to mind many things I had heard Betsey say.

"Anything might be done 'ere, an' nobody the wiser," he said with a leer.

"Yes."

"But I'm a man of paice, I be. A stiddy, thinkin' sort ov man as you may zay. I shudden like for nothin' to 'appen to you, Jasper. Tha's wy I stopped 'em jist now. 'ow be 'ee thinkin' to git the money to buy back Pennington, Jasper? 'T'll be a stiff job, I tell 'ee."

I did not reply.

"I've 'eerd oal 'bout et, Jasper. Ah, I've knowd they Tresidders for a good long while. Deep, deep, sonny, you ca'an't git 'em nohow. Besides, 'twas 'ard that you shud zee thicky purty maid for the fust time when you was covered with mud, and egg yuks, and fastened on to that gashly thing, wad'n et then?"

I gave a start, and I felt my face crimson.

"I shud like to be a friend to 'ee, Jasper, I shud. Betsey 'ave told me 'bout 'ee, and I like 'ee, Jasper. Besides, I'm allays a friend to the oppressed I be, allays. I shud like to put 'ee in the way of spitin' they Tresidders, and buyin' back the 'ome that es rightfully yours, that I shud. Now, Jasper, my sonny, I could put 'ee in the way of gittin' 'nough in a year or two to get yer oan. A clain off chap like you, with schullership, one as can read ritin' an' knows figures like, why, you could, with a bit of tittivatin', git on anywhere, that is, with the blessin' of Providence, so to spaik."

"How?" I asked.

"Put yerself in my 'ands, Jasper."

"You mean become a smuggler, a wrecker, and a general law-breaker."

"Law?" cried Cap'n Jack. "Now what's law, Jasper? Es et fair now? The law 'ave put you in a nice pickle, and tho' Pennington ought to be yours, an' the Barton ought to be yours, an' shud be yours ef I, a fair an' honest man, cud 'ave the arrangin' ov things, they've been tooked from 'ee by law. An' you might wait till you was black an' blue, and the law wudden give et back. What 'ave you got to do with law? Well, dodgin' the Preventive men is 'ginst the law, I know et, but what ov that? You c'n make a bit ov money that way—a good bit, Jasper. In three year or so, with me to 'elp 'ee, you cud git 'nough to buy back Pennington, there now."

"And what do you offer?" I asked.

"I'll take 'ee on, tha's what I'll do. I'll taich 'ee a vew things. I'll make a man ov 'ee, Jasper. You are a vine big man, sonny, a match for two ord'nary men, with schullership, an' a knowledge of figgers thrawed in. You'd zoon be my 'ead man, an' do a big traade."

"If smuggling were all," I stammered.

"Tha's oal I ask ov 'ee, Jasper. A bit ov smugglin'. But spoase you doan't. Well, look at that now. Spoase you doan't now. Nick Tresidder 'll git that maid es sure as eggs—while you—"

"I shall be murdered, I suppose."

"Jasper, I never like violence on a eldest son. It do main bad luck, my deear, es a rule; still we've got to go 'ginst bad luck, sometimes. But for the fact of your bein' the third of the family of the same naame—"

"More than the third," I interrupted.

"More than the third ef you like, my deear, but you be the third, an' oal the world do knaw it's a bad thing to kill a man who's the third of the same naame. But for that I mightn't 'ave come in time. You zee, Jasper, I'm a religious man, do send a present to the passon every year for tithes, I do."

At that time I did not believe in Cap'n Jack's words, but afterward I found that all his gang were afraid to do that which was considered unlucky. All Cornish people, I suppose, have heard the rhyme about killing an eldest son who is the third in succession to bear the same christened name. I know, too, that Cap'n Jack believed implicitly in the legend, and I have heard him repeat it very solemnly, as though he were repeating a prayer at a funeral, while his gang became as solemn as judges. And I have little doubt now that the jargon which I will write down—for I who have had a fair lot of schooling do call it jargon—had a great deal to do with saving me from Sam Liddicoat's knife.

"For if a man shall strike him dead, His blood shall be on the striker's head, And while ever he draws his breath, His days shall be a fearful death; And after death to hell he'll go, With pain and everlasting woe."

"An' so, you zee," said Cap'n Jack, "I do'ant want no violence weth 'ee, being a merciful and religious man."

Now I must confess that I was in sore straits what to do; for be it remembered all my plans seemed poor and almost worthless, and at the same time I loathed the thought of accepting Cap'n Jack's offer. Had I been sure I should have to do nothing but help in the smuggling I would not have minded so much, for it is well known that smuggling is not regarded by many as wrong, even the parsons at St. Mawes, and Tresillian, and Mopus having bought smuggled goods. Besides, I knew that many had gained wealth in this way, and were thought none the worse of for doing it. But Cap'n Jack was known to be worse than a smuggler, and almost desperate as I was this hindered me. For I remembered that in spite of everything I was still a Pennington, and I thought of what Naomi Penryn would think of me.

"Besides," went on Cap'n Jack, "you needn't 'ave nothin' to do with this part of the country. I do a biggish traade down the coast, Jasper, my deear. Ther's Kynance, now, or a cove over by Logan Rock, and another by Gurnard's Head. Nobody 'ere need to knaw where you be."

"Let me have time!" I stammered.

"To be sure, Jasper, my deear," wheedled Cap'n Jack; "then it's settled. You shall come to my plaace at Kynance this very night, you shall. The boys 'll soon be 'ere now. A special cargo, Jasper, 'nough to make yer lips water. Things I bot from a Injun marchant, my deear—cheap. And this es a clain off plaace to put et for a vew days."

"Are you sure it's safe here, Cap'n Jack?" I said, for already I began to be interested in the smuggler's plans.

"Saafe, who do knaw about this plaace?"

"Betsey Fraddam and Eli."

"Iss, for sure—I knaw they do, else you wudden a knawed. But who besides?"

"Do you think Ikey Trethewy hasn't found out, living where he has lived all these years?"

"Ikey! Iss, Ikey do knaw. Aw, aw!"

I saw his meaning, and suspected then what I afterward found to be true. Cap'n Jack's business was very extensive, and he employed people up and down the coast on both sides of the county. Moreover, several pedlars who carried jewelry, laces, and fine silks, obtained their supplies from Cap'n Jack.

"The Preventive men are busy watching you," I said.

"The Preventive men, aw, my deear. Iss, they be watchin', but how do you knaw?"

I told him what I had heard between them and Richard Tresidder.

"Iss, iss," said Cap'n Jack, with a grunt of satisfaction; "tha's all right, and they'll never vind out, no, they'll never vind out, and now you've zaid oal, my booy?"

"No, I haven't; there's another who knows."

"Who?"

He looked at me in such a way, that before I had time to think his white eyes seemed to drag the words from me.

"Miss Naomi Penryn," I said.

Never did I see such a change in any one. He no longer had the appearance of a mild and inoffensive man. The look of harmless indecision was gone, and all his pious sentiments were flung to the wind. He burst out with a string of oaths such as I had never heard before, and which made my flesh creep.

"Tell me all you know of this, Jasper Pennington," he said, presently, "everything."

I could not disobey him at that time, and I told him what I have written here, save but for the story of my love—that I kept in my own heart.

"She came in here to keep you from bein' found, did she?"

"Yes."

Then he became a little mild-mannered man again. He had grasped the situation in a minute, and he had seen more than had come into my mind. He commenced smoking again and continued for a few minutes, then he started up suddenly.

"Sam, Bill, sonnies, come in there."

Instantly the two men entered.

"They're comin', be'ant 'em?"

"Iss, Cap'n."

A few seconds later I heard the sound of voices, and presently I knew that several men were entering the cave.

"All safe, sonnies?" asked Cap'n Jack.

"Iss, Cap'n."

"Ah, Providence es very good. It's a vallyable cargo ef I did buy et cheap."

The men laughed.

A number of bales of goods were brought into the inner cave, but I could not discover what they were. I could see that the men were eyeing me keenly, and I thought unpleasantly; but no word was spoken until the cargo was unloaded, and safely stowed away.

"Nobody seed, I spoase."

"A dark night, Cap'n. No moon, no stars."

"Ah, Providence es very good, sonnies," repeated Cap'n Jack, then, turning to me, he said, "You'll be wantin' to know who this es?"

There was an expression of assent.

"Some ov 'ee do knaw un, I reckon. Ah, Ikey Trethewy, I see you do, and so do you, Zacky Bunny. This, sonnies, is Maaster Jasper Pennington. You've 'eerd me spaik about un. Well, 'ee's a-goin' to jine us, laistways, 'ee's a-goin' to Kynance to-night jist to zee, ya knaw. There, you'd better be off, 'cipt Ikey Trethewy. He's near 'ome, 'ee is. Wait outside a minnit, my deears, we'll be out in a minnit."

All left the inner cave except Ikey Trethewy, who stood watching us as if in wonder.

Cap'n Jack hunted around the cave for a few seconds until he found an inkhorn and a pen. "I do like to kip things handy," he said; "nobody do knaw what'll 'appen." Then, turning to Ikey Trethewy, he said, "You do knaw of a young woman who do live up to Pennington—a young woman jist come there, called Penryn, I speck, Ikey, my deear?"

Ikey nodded.

"Have 'ee got a bit ov paper, sonny?"

"No, Cap'n."

"Ah, tha's awkard. This 'll do, I 'spect—a bit of the prayer-book. I allays like to carry a prayer-book weth me, 'tes oncommon lucky. There, Jasper Pennington, write."

I dipped the pen into the inkhorn, and put the paper which he had torn from the prayer-book on a flat, smooth piece of slatestone. "What?" I asked.

"Write what I shall tell 'ee, now then:

"To Miss Naomi Penryn. If you breathe one word about, or come near Granfer Fraddam's Cave, I am a dead man!"

I wrote the words as he spoke them. "Is that all?" I asked.

"Sign yer naame, sonny."

I did as he told me.

He took the paper from me and spelt out the words carefully. "Ah, 'tes a grand thing to be a schullard," he said, admiringly. Then he turned to Ikey Trethewy. "This must be put in that young woman's hands at once, an' nobody must knaw 'bout et. Mind!"

"Iss, Cap'n," responded Ikey.

"Now we'll go," said Cap'n Jack. "Good-night, Ikey. Ah, 'tes a good thing to be a man of paice, and full of love for one's fella cretters. Now then, Jasper."

Two men waited for us in the outer cave, and a few seconds later I was in a boat bound for Kynance Cove.

Morning was breaking as we passed the Lizard, and, strangely circumstanced as I was, I could not help feeling awed as I looked upon the great headland. Little wind blew, but the long lines of white breakers thundered on the hard yellow sands, while the low-lying rocks churned the sea into foam.

"Purty, ed'n et, Jasper?" remarked Cap'n Jack. "'Ave 'ee ever zeed the Lizard afore, Jasper?"

"Never, Cap'n Jack."

"Ah, I'll make a man ov 'ee. I've a cutter ov my oan, sonny; not sa big, but a purty thing. She do want a cap'n, Jasper; one as knaws figgers, an' can larn navigation. I do want a gen'lman by birth, an' a great lashin' chap like you, Jasper—wawn as can taake a couple ov andy-sized men and knock their heads together. Oa, ther's providence in things, Jasper."

I said nothing, but my heart felt sad. I felt as if I were drifting away from Naomi, and that in spite of myself I was cutting the rope that held me to her.

Meanwhile the boats skirted the headland, and I saw the rocky coves of Kynance in the near distance.

"Well, we be near 'ome, sonnies," said the captain, "after a safe journey. Spoasin' somebody stricks up a bit of song now. Fishermen agoin' 'ome ov a mornin', we be. We've toiled oal night an' caught nothin', as the scripters say. Strik up now, 'Lijah Lowry, you've a fine and purty voice. Now, then, sweet and stiddy, my booy."

So Elijah Lowry started a song, and the rest joined in the chorus.

"Zing, Jasper," cried Cap'n Jack, when one verse was completed. "Jine in the cheerful song; let the people zee wot a contented, 'appy, law-abidin' lot we fishermen be. Now, then, chorus:

"Thrice the thunderin' seas did roar, Thrice the thunderin' winds did blow, While the brave sailors were rockin' on the top, And the landlubbers layin' down below. Below, below, below, below, bel—o—o—o—w! And the landlubbers layin' down below!"

"Now, then, peart and stiddy oal," cried Cap'n Jack. "An' seein' as 'ow Providence 'ave bin sa kind, I do want 'ee to come up to my 'ouse to-night for supper. Ya knaw wot a good cook my maid Tamsin es. Well, she'll do 'er best fur to-night. Hake an' conger pie, roast beef and curney puddin', heave to an' come again, jist like kurl singers at Crismas time, my deears. Now, then, Jasper, you come long wi' me."

I walked with Cap'n Jack up a deep gully. On either hand the sides of the chasm shot up, steeper than the roof of a house, while in some places they were perpendicular.

"Nice'n lew 'ere, Jasper, my deear. Zee 'ow the things do graw. See the 'sparagus twigs, my deear. Like little fir-trees, be'ant 'em then. Aw, 'tes a keenly plaace, this es. Do 'ee zee thicky 'ouse up there, Jasper. Tha's mine—an' Tamsin 'll be waitin' for me. Providence took away 'er mawther, but left Tamsin; an' Providence was kind, Jasper, for her mawther 'ad a tongue, my deear. Jaw! ah, but Tamsin's mawther 'ad a speshul gift for jawin'! I caan't zay as 'ow I liked et, but I caan't deny that she was a gifted woman."

I could not but admit that Cap'n Jack spoke the truth about his house. It was situated on the side of the gorge, well sheltered from the winds, yet so placed that from the gable windows a broad expanse of sea could be seen. It was a well-built house, too, substantial and roomy. In the front was a garden, well stocked with flowers and vegetables. In this garden were two figureheads, supposed to represent Admiral Blake and Sir Walter Raleigh.

"Godly men, both of 'em," remarked Cap'n Jack; "an' both of 'em down on Popery. I be oal for a sound, solid religion, I be. Sir Walter brought baccy, and the Admiral, well 'ee polished off the Spaniards and took a lot of treasure from the Spanish ships. Some would call 'im a pirate, Jasper, my deear, but I be'ant that kind of a man. No, no, thews furrin chaps ca'ant 'spect we to laive 'em go wethout payin' toll. 'Ere we be, Tamsin, my deear!"

The latter remark was addressed to a stout, buxom girl of twenty, who greeted her father warmly, looking at me curiously all the while.

"Now, Tamsin, my deear, we waant some breakfast. Wot'll 'ee 'ave, Jasper? 'Am rasher, my deear, or a few pilchers? Or p'raps Tamsin 'ave got some vowl pie? This es my maid, Tamsin, this es, by the blessin' of Providence—my one yaw lamb, tha's wot she es. As spruce a maid as there es in the country, my deear. An' I forgot, you dunnaw Jasper, do 'ee, Tamsin? This es Jasper Pennington, a godly young man who, like Esau of ould, 'ave bin rubbed of his birthright an' hes blessin'. He's a-goin' to jine us, Tamsin, 'n' then 'ee'll git back the birthright, an' laive Nick Trezidder 'ave the blessin'. Aw! Aw! Now, then, Jasper, haive too, my deear."

We sat down to breakfast, and I must confess to eating with a good appetite. When I lifted my eyes from my plate I saw that Tamsin was watching me curiously, as though she could not quite make me out. Certainly I was not very presentable. My clothes were stained and torn, and my appearance altogether unkempt. I felt ill at ease, too, and did not care to talk much. Besides, in spite of my strange position, I was tired and sleepy. This Cap'n Jack presently noted.

"You'll want to slaip, Jasper. Well, Tamsin shall give 'ee a bed, oal down, my deear—make 'ee sleep when you do'ant want to. I do veel like that, too. After we've 'ad a slaip, Jasper, we'll talk a bit avore the booys do come up to supper. A slap-bang supper now, Tamsin, mind that!"

Tamsin left the room to prepare a bed for me, while Cap'n Jack pulled off his boots.

"A clain off maid, Jasper, clain off. Spruce as a new pin, an' fresh as a new painted boat. Temper like a lamb, Jasper. Ah! she'll be a grand wife fur somebody, an' not short of a fortin neither. I've been a savin' man, sonny, an' 'ave bin oncommon lucky in traade. I spoase Israel Barnicoat do want 'er, an' Israel's a braavish booy, but Tamsin doan't take to 'im. No, she doan't. Ah, there she es. Es Jasper's bed ready? That's yer soarts."

He gave his daughter a sounding kiss, and went upstairs singing:

"Her eyes be as blue as the sea, Her 'air like goulden grain, An' she'll stick to me, and only me Till I come back again. Again, again, again, Till I come back again."

"There, Jasper, thicky's the room, and tha's the bed, oal clain an' purty, my deear."

How long I slept I do not know, but it was a long time, for I was very tired. It was a long time since I had slept in a soft clean bed, and I did not fail to appreciate the one Tamsin had prepared. I awoke at length, however, and heard a tap at the door.

"Your new clothes are at the door." It was Tamsin who spoke.

On getting up and opening the door, I found a pile of clothes lying, and on examining them I found them to be well made, and of good material. They fitted me, too, and I must confess that I looked at myself with considerable satisfaction when I had dressed myself. I saw, too, on entering the kitchen that Tamsin approved of my changed appearance.

"Father's gone down to the cove," she said.

She spoke correctly, and her voice was low and musical.

"He'll not be back for half an hour," she continued; "when he comes I expect he'll bring the men back to supper. I want us to have a talk now. I want you to tell me why you are here. I want to know if you realise what you are doing. Father will tell me nothing; but I cannot believe you know what joining his gang means."



CHAPTER IX

WHAT HAPPENED AT CAP'N JACK'S HOUSE—TAMSIN'S CONFESSION, AND THE SMUGGLERS' PLANS

As I looked into Tamsin Truscott's eyes, I could not help thinking what a good-looking maid she was. I was sure she spoke earnestly, too. Evidently she regarded me as different from the gang of men of which her father was captain, and wanted to know the reason of my coming among them.