They sailed on. In all eleven boats were following them, and, knowing the winds and currents better, they were catching them up. But if Ross's assumption were correct, this was an advantage rather than a danger. There were two craft in the narrows at Benodet with sails furled but men about the decks and looking in a state of alert. Both could have caught
any, lugger
built, They made no attempt to stop the,
Sarzeau,
It was one of the fishing fleet sailing out on its daily task.
As they reached the mouth of the Odet a choppy sea met them. By now the risk was that some of the fishing f
leet, which could hardly have
failed to recognize a stranger, should take time off to capture it. The Sarzeau was still perhaps a quarter of a mile in the lead as they shortened sail and, set a south-westerly course to clear the Penmarche Cape. Anxiously they watched. One by one the other vessels straggled off towards the south-east, and the distance between them grew, and presently they were hull down, and then they had all disappeared.
The long delay waiting for the tide, instead of being the ruin of the escape, had in fact saved them.
So all that day, spirits rising, hearts rising as they left the French coast behind. It seemed improbable now that they would be challenged, for no French warship would be likely to pursue a French lugger, and if an English warship did so they could come to no harm.
They made skilly - slices of bread with hot water poured over them and a chunk of sour butter thrown, in with a helping of salt. They had enough food' for several days, and with any luck they would make England before it, ran short. This diet even began to bring Dwight round, and, sitting as he did in the bows of the lugger with the strong warm wind blowing through his hair, some traces of colour came to his paper cheeks. With Tholly's keenly honed knife he hacked off his beard and scraped the worst stubble from his chin.
Drake, however, was running a high fever. On the second day out he was barely conscious. Dwight wanted to sit with him, but they persuaded him for his own health he must stay on deck, and the patient. Bone remained below relieved from time to time by Ellery; who had taken a great fancy to the boy.
When they were in mid-Channel \the wind changed and became squally, with a choppy head sea, and for a time they made little progress. Ross went for a while to squat beside Dwight, who still sat on deck-now in the lee of the main hatch.
Ross said: `This will keep us another day at sea. Having
come this far, I
am anxious to be home.'
Dwight said: `And I.' `You must be.'
`Ross, I don't think I have
thanked you at all for doing what you have done,
for risking
what you have risked. Nor can I
ever adequately do so
were I to spend a week over
it
’
`Don't try. It is done.'
`But I must try -
however surely I must fail. When
you came, when you appeared out of the night like an apparition, carrying a lantern and a pistol and with your armed men around you, I believ
e I was slow to accept my good
fortune.'
`Not surprising-'
`Oh, yes, surprising. But, you see, even imprisonment such as that has a routine, and after more than a year of it one becomes dulled, half resigned to the semi-starvation, to the squalor, to the sick and dying men, to the stenches and the suppurating wounds and the fevers and the lack of all medical aid, and one becomes a
-
a cog in the wheel of the camp, an important cog, for even a small knowledge of medicine is priceless. The
camp was rum by a group of its
some more fortunately circumstanced than others. A few of the civilian prisoners were allowed to retain a little money
-
unlike the rest of us, who were stripped and robbed of everything as soon as we reached the convent. A Lady Ann Fitzroy, who has but recently been released, was invaluable in the small aids she was able to obtain for us
-
especially in the baneful wi
nter that has just passed. Men
were dying about me all the time; but others with fantastical determination continued to live in spite of all their illnesses and privations. It astonishes me always, this human will to live, even when there seems no single thing left to live for.... Well . . .' Dwight dabbed the sores on his lips with. a cloth and stared over the pitching sea. `... well, a dozen of us ran the camp. Everyone in it was in a sense under our charge: the civilians in one block, the soldiers and sai
lors in another, the women in a
third. We organized our meetings, our lives, we tried to devise recreations for the men, occupations -
bricks out of straw, but we did all we could. So it became our lives, our voc
ations. So when you first came -
in the first surprise of the moment - I felt I could hardly leave ...'
`I understand.'
`But do not think I am in that hypnotized mood any longer. I regret -
yes, I still regret that those
men, nearly all of them, are still prisoners and in need of the attention I can no longer give them. To me true happiness would have been, if we could all have been released together-'
`It was not possible.'
`Oh, I know. We
should have
needed a ship of the line to come
home
in
.
But now I am free - now I am really free -
it is beyond me to express how I feel. To have the clean air, the sun, the salt on my lips, to know I am not going back to that-that hell. To know that I am among friends, and soon shall see, all my old friends. And finally to see Caroline . . . I am near to tears.'
`Yes, well . . .' Affected himself, Ross frowned at the unstable horizon.
`How is she?'
`Well enough since she heard you were alive. Before that she reminded me of a cut flower that has not been put in water.'
`I do not think I can see her like this. I shall take a month first to make an effort to restore myself.'
`I rather suppose she will like to do the restoring.'
`Yes ... yes. I don't know. I am such a scarecrow.'
They were silent. Lieutenant Spade, late of HMS Alexander, was at the tiller and he shifted a point into the wind.
`At least two others are saved with you,' said Ross. `That is a small bonus. And one or two more may yet win their freedom, I am only in much disquiet about Nanfan. I dread the moment of telling his father.'
`Oh that,' Dwight said, `I have something to confess. When we left Nanfan he was not dead.'
`Not dead? But-'
'Oh, he was dying. The whole brain was damaged. He could not live an hour. But in that hour, I knew unless I lied to you, one or other would stay with him. Out of loyalty, which could do no good, one or other, probably you, would have lost, your life too.'
Ross was silent again, thinking this over. What if Nanfan had regained consciousness? Left alone among enemies to die. And once before, at the time of the mining accident, he had confounded the doctors by recovering.
`There was no chance this, time, I assure you,' Dwight said, reading his thoughts. `With internal injuries, one cannot always be sure. But this was plain to see.'
Ross nodded. `And as to our other casualty?'
'Young Carne? I cannot tell yet. I have no probes, no medical tools. Ball wounds are usually non-toxic, but one cannot tell whether any threads of his shirt or coat were carried in with it. Also one does not know how much the
bone has splintered; But that
is less important, to his survival.'
`Then what are his chances?'
`We should 'know soon after
we land. I do not like this high fever, but it may only be caused by shock. If the wound goes putrid of course there is no hope. One cannot amputate a shoulder.'
The head winds continued to plague them, and for a day they made little progress. For all the sail they saw they might as well have been in mid-Atlantic. Lieutenant Armitage, who was the most knowledgeable of them, estimated that they were about sixty miles north-west of Brest and probably therefore about an equal distance south-west of the Lizard. The wind was north-easterly, and to make the landfall they wanted they had to tack continually into the mouth of the wind. To make any landfall, they had to beat into it, for the end of England was not far away, and they did not want to find themselves in the Atlantic. All through the night they kept three men on deck: the rest huddled in the foetid cabin which pitched and shivered and lurc
hed without cease. They were running short
of candles, but a last one burned tonight in the lantern; some were seasick and some tried to sleep; Dwight sat up with Drake, who appeared to be sinking. Dwight said lie was so used to being up at night and
had so recovered from two days
sea air that he could well do this.
After arguing Ross gave in, having himself had only a snatched hour here and there s
ince before they left Quiberon.
He fell into an exhausted doze in which he found himself explaining to Demelza how her brother had died on the expedition. `He was near dead,' he said, `so we left
him. It
was every man for himself and there was nothing else to do.' Demelza looked at him and her face became Caroline's. `At least I've brought home Dwight to you. I lost Joe Nanfan and killed two French guards, and a number of British prisoners-of-war lost their lives, and Drake, Demelza's brother, of course he had to go. But at least I've brought Dwight.' And he turned to show her, and all that was there were two hospital orderlies with a stretcher and on the stretcher was Dwight, and he was dead too. `At least,' Ross said, `you will be able to bury him in the family graveyard. That makes it all worth while.'
Towards morning he fought a way out of his nightmare and climbed the heaving ladder to the deck. After the moon
had set there had, been a couple of hours: so black that. even the breaking tips of waves s
eemed to have no incandescence;
but now a suspicion of dawn was
lightening-the east. He took a
deep breath. H
e felt much worse
than before he slept. His limbs ached; his tongue tasted of sulphur, his throat was sore and he was beset with the nauseas of seasickness. He crawled along to Lieutenant Spade whose turn it was at the helm.
`Is there sign of a change?'
'
Not yet. But I
have hopes. It would be very rare for a north-easter to blow longer than this one has. At this time of the year, I mean.'
As dawn broke they saw a three-masted barque on the horizon, but she was making away from them and soon disappeared. Presently Dwight came up.
Ross said: `Well?'
Dwight shrugged. 'I cannot be sure. He is much quieter. It may be natural sleep or it may be a coma. But I have smelled the bandages hour
ly, and there is no sign yet of
necrosis. By noon we should know more.'
About ten the wind dropped and the lugger wallowed like a shot bird in the choppy sea. Then a breeze sprang up from the west, with increasing cloud and, a hint of rain. The sails flapped and filled and the craft heeled to the new wind. The struggle was over and they were bound for home.
At midday during a heavy shower of warn rain Dwight came up to Ross, who was at the -tiller,
'I think you will have one man fewer on your conscience, Ross. I think he will recover.'
They reached Falmouth about seven that evening. By now it was pouring with rain and blowing hard. In spite of a white shirt flapping madly from each mastheads they earned two shots from the castle, the last of which was, certainly not a blank, before a naval pinnace came alongside to examine their credentials.
In the first dark Verity was called to her door and saw a tall gaunt man standing there. Behind him was a scarecrow supported by a burly servant.
"Ross!'' she said. `Oh - you are back? God be-praised!' I have
worried so
much for
you! Come in! Pray come in! Come upstairs! Are you victualled? I have ample of cold food, and there's wine . .
`You remember Dr Enys,. my love?'
'Oh . . . oh, yes!' Veri
ty swallowed. `So it has been a
success!
I
am so happy for you! Pray come in."
They got Dwight upstairs. It was rather a struggle. When they w
ere sitting, down Dwight said:
`I am sorry to be so fami
ne struck, Mrs Blarney ... They
did not give us chicken every day at Quimper . Your cousin came and winkled me out, and I
believe none too soon if he was
to save my good looks. A day or two's home cooking will no doubt make some difference.'
Verity stared at him in the lamplight, then spoke briskly to hide her consternation.
`Chicken! That reminds me. We have chicken bones which will soon make a soup. I will call Martha and put it on the hob. It will soon be hot-'
Ross stayed
her as she was about to leave. `How many bedrooms` have you here, Verity?'
`Three apart from our own. Enough to accommodate Dr Enys and yourself and your man-'
`There is more to it than that, may dear, We have another sick man. Drake Carne, Demelza's brother, was wounded and even now is still in danger. If for tonight at least you could give him rest, tomorrow perhaps-'
'Bring him at once and let him stay as, long as is necessary. There is nowhere else in Falmouth here he could he cared for. Where is he? Downstairs?'
`Still aboard. I had to see you first-'
`Shame on you! Can you send for him? Where are you moored? Mrs Stevens will go when I have roused her-'
`Bone will go, if you will have him. But I would warn you, he is gravely ill, and if you undertake his care it may be days or even weeks-'
Verity smiled at the stocky man, `Go, Bone, please. Take no more heed of your master.'
So,
Ross and Dwight and Drake and Bone slept at the Blarneys'. Armitage and Spade found room at the King's Arms; Tregirls and Ellery and Jonas and Hoblyn stayed on board the Sarzeau.
In the morning Drake was clear-headed although there was
fever about. Dwight
anxiously prospected around the bandages; but the smell of gangrene was still absent. As the improvised wadding had not been disturbed for five days he decided to leave it alone for the time. If the flesh were healthy it might do mo
re
harm than good to probe.
Dwight was not fit to travel yet, and not anxious to. If Mrs Blarney would generously accommodate him for another day or so he would stay and rest.
Ross said: `You must not be afraid
of meeting Caroline. You under
rate her if you think she will be put off by your frail appearance.'
'It is not my frail appearance. I look as if I have barely
recovered from the Black Death.'
`However you look she will want to see you.'
`Well, give me two days. Even to ride a horse is a big
undertaking.'
'Never mind a horse; we'll arrange a carriage. Though God help you, a part of the road will barely take four wheels at the same tune. But have your two days. Meantime I must send word.'
Ross went down to the boat, expecting that Tholly would be willing to mount his waiting pony and ride to tell Demelza her husband was home and safe but could not come for a few days more. But Tregirls was far from willing. Having helped to bring in a French fishing-boat, there was prize money about, and, he was not moving from Falmouth till he got his share. He was not unwilling, however, to loan his pony to Ellery, who left for home that morning bearing the news. Eller
y was to call in at Killewarren
on the way and tell Caroline to expect Dwight on Wednesday. Ross consigned his interest in the prize money to Tholly, on the understanding that any share coming to him should be divided equally among the others as well. In the meantime, if there were any formalities to be gone through, any papers to be signed, they would find him at Captain Blarney's house.
The other two, rather to his surprise, were equally anxious to remain. on board
- Jack Hoblyn, who had been the most seasick and the most difficult all the time he was away, was now enjoying the small notoriety and in no hurry to return to his family in Sawle. What bad looked so desirable when it seemed about to be withdrawn n from him; now, because it had become available again, was less enticing.
That
there was so much fuss Ross was
surprised, though on reflection he k
new he should
not have been, Both the
lieutenants ga
ve interviews to the press; and
these would come out, in the Exeter Chronicle and the
Sherborne Mercury. A
man followe
d Ross home asking for details,
but he received no encouragement.
On the Monday morning, with the rain still pouring down, Ross went in to see Drake, who was sitting up in bed and, apart from the bandaged shoulder and the plastered fingers, was now lookin
g more substantial than Dwight.
Perhaps this too was not surprisin
g. At nineteen,
if a man does not die from a wound, he quickly gets better.
'So,' said Ross. 'I thought I might have had to take your sister home some bad news,'
Drake smiled. All the damned family, Ross thought, had this wonderful smile. They had certainly not inherited it from their father. 'No, sur. I eaten two eggs this morning and porridge before. I never was so well cared for.'
'Mrs Blarney is my dearest cousin. She will tend you like a mother; and Dr Enys thinks you need another week of it.'
'I'm sure I'll not need to be s'long as that. But twould be brave to stay. I b'
lieve in the three or four days
...'
'We'll see. Or rather Mrs Blarney will see. Dr Enys does not fancy handing you over to some Falmouth apothecary at this stage, for he feels they would be likely to kill you off. So when he leaves on Wednesday, and I leave with him, there will only be Mrs
Blarney to say whether you are well enough, and
you must obey her.'
'Whatever you d'say, Cap'n Poldark.'
Ross went to the window. It is a sad truth that when a man falls in love with a girl he does not necessarily admire that girl's brothers and sisters, nor even the man and woman who g
ave her birth. Indeed, such is
human nature, that the more a man loves his wife, the more possessively so, the less he is likely to esteem the womb that produced her, or the other fruits of that womb. Ross's was not a jealous or possessive nature, but ever since the Carne brothers had arrived he had regarded them as a nuisance: first, by their mere arrival and claiming of favours on the grounds of relationship; second, because of their extreme Methodism; and third, and more recently, because of Drake's pestilential . involvement with Morwenna Chynoweth. He had
risked so much to save this boy
on Demelza's behalf - that he resented the risk and had come near to resenting the boy.
But in the eighteen, months he had known the two young men his contacts, his true conversations with them, had been
practically nil, because Demelza stood betwe
een them as
a link she had also sto
od between them as
a bar. Only on this trip had he had a
ny conversation with Drake as a
person. And, reluctantly at first, his feelings had altered,
`There is one thing . . .'
`Sur?'
`Before you came with me on this
trip you talked of going away.
Somewhere, you did not know where. Before I leave here I want your assurance that you will come to Nampara for a couple of weeks so tha
t we may all consider the situa
tion as it now stands.'
`Right, I promise that, Cap'n Poldark.'
'And if you do not fancy staying with Sam, spend the two
weeks with us. It may do you good and help you to recover
your balance.'
`Thank ee, Cap'n Poldark. I fancy well staying wi' Sam, but mebbe it would be a comfortable change, like, staying wi' you.'
`And,' Ross said restively, `do not call me Cap'n Poldark. That was Demelza's prohibition. Call me Ross, if you please.'
Drake considered the back of hi
s brother-in-law. `I'll call ee
Ross when I'm twenty-one, if so be's I may
-
Cap'n Poldark. Twould be more seemly.'
`Seemly for whom?'
'For all concerned.'
`It is a while off yet.'
`Two year.'
Ross was staring out of the window at a crowd collecting to watch two men fighting in the gutter.
Drake said: `All the same, I think after I been home for a while I did ought to go. I don't think tis ev
er in me to settle there again.
And, like twas said before, twould be more proper after the trouble I bro
ught. And if ever I'm to forget
or try to forget
`Morwenna Chynoweth?'
`Yes
. Though I
doubt I ever can or shall. Tis like a far worse wound
than this ball in my shoulder
and there's no healing of it.'
`Time will help.'
`Aye. So everyone d'say.'
`Did she feel as much for you, Drake?' 'Yes . . . there can be no doubting.'
`Perhaps that makes it worse - I don't know. I once went
through something similar myself. There's: no hell worse to be in.'
`And did ee come through it?'
Ross smiled. 'I fell in love with your sister.'
The fight outside was continuing. The watchers were shouting encouragement.
`That were a good thing t'appen.' Drake shifted painfully in his bed. `That is, if it has been a good thing' for you.'
`The best. Bu
t it took a time - a long time
to realize it was not second best.'
`I don't b'ieve, there can ever be aught in my life that's not second best now.'
`Your life is long
-
or should be now; now that you have stopped trying to lose it.'
`I never rightly tried to lose it. But mebbe I didn't care s'much a
s I
did ought to have done.'
`I was never so foolhardy as you. I tried drink. But I escaped too little so I abandoned the attempt.'
After a minute Drake said: `I wish I felt there were something to do wi' my life! E
ven Sam, even thinking of God,
don't seem no longer yelp.'
`The more reason we should all talk it over together: your sister and I, and Sam if you wish it. In this case I believe four heads will be better than one.'
`Thank ee . . . Cap'n Poldark.'
To the disappointment of the onlookers, the fighting couple had at last decided to separate, one nursing a bleeding nose, the other limping and puffing. A horsewoman and a groom clattered over the cobbles through the dispersing crowd and came to a stop at the portico below. It was still raining.
Ross said
: `I do not think y
ou will ever be quite like Sam
to whom Christ and his relig
ion mean all. To me his way of
life is not natural, yet I am compelled to a reluctant admiration of it.'
`I wish I could be like he. Twould be no problem then to give up thoughts such as I have had
`A moment,' Ross said. `I fear I must leave you.' He had seen the auburn hair flaunting wetly on the shoulders of the dismounted rider. `I believe Miss Caroline Penvenen has come to c
all ..
'
She came in, shaking herself like a tall wet butterfly. Her face was composed, and this morning quite beautiful. `Well, Captain Poldark, so you are back, I see.' She took
his face again and kissed him on the lips the way she had done before he left, to the disapproval of Mrs Stevens usher
ing her in. `As promised. And you have brought me back
my erring doctor? Safe? Intact? All of a piece? And willing to fulfil the promises made before he left?'
'Caroline ... You were to have greeted him on Wednesday 1 We were coming ove
r and would have been with you -
'And did you think I would be willing to sit in Killewarren stitching a sampler while everyone was living a high life in Falmouth? You misread my temperament. Where is he? Upstairs?'
`I think in the parlour. But he has only just risen. You must have left early-'
`At dawn -
'But I must warn you. In my letter I gave you some hint that he is as yet very frail-'
`Verity,' said Caroline, half up the stairs, as. the other woman was half down. `How good to see you again! And in happier circumstances than last time-'
`Caroline! We did not expect
you!
`So' Ross says. But you should have. I have waited at home like a fading spinster too long already-'
`Caroline . . .'I have hardly warned him! He is only just from bed and I do not think he feels strong enough to-'
`Not strong enough to see me? Does one need to be strong to confront me? Am I a scaly dragon to be shrunk away from until properl
y announced?' She kissed Verity
and smiled at her, her long hair leaving drips of water on the stair carpet. `So let us go up, shall we?'
There was no stopping her, so they went up. Dwight was standing defensively at the mant
l
epiece in front of the small fire that had been lighted against the damp. He turned and looked at her, skin and bone, a haggard, discoloured caricature of what he had once been. He was dressed in a snuff brown suit of Andrew Blarney's which, because
it was so much too broad, hung
on him as if he were a clothes-rail. He was clean shaven and his hair cut, though it showed its streaks of grey. His face was a little less ghastly than when Ross had first seen it, but it was still paper white, blotchy with sore places and skull-like in its emaciation.
Caroline stood there a second, a gentle smile on her face but without visible change of expression.
`Well, Dwight.' She took off her hat, shook it once and
dropped it on a chair. `So they have dragged you away and you have
come to redeem your promises!’
She went across, and kissed him on the sores on his lips.
'Caroline !' He tried to turn his
head away.
She said: `Good Heaven, so I still have to make all the advancements D'you know, my dear, I am never allowed to retain any maidenly modesty, for I have to run after you, to seek you out, and even to kiss you without re
ceiving any embrace in return!'
He was looking at her as if unable to believe she was there, as if not crediting that she had not changed, grown older, lost any of her freshness or youth.
`Caroline!' he said again.
`All this time,' she said, `while you were hiding in that prison camp I have been wondering if I would ever be able to bring you to the point of fulfilling your promise. Time and again I have thought, no, he wi
ll never do it, I am doomed to be an
old maid. Now, when at the last you are in England, I have to ride all morning thr
ough the pouring rain to catch
you before you slip away again. Look at my habit, it will
take a drying
and a ironing and perhaps will shrink from very saturation. And my hair.' She twisted some of it in her fingers, and more drops fell on the floor. But now it was not only drops from her hair.
`Caroline, my love, my own ...'
'Ah, hear that, Ross! So he has committed himself at last! I believe we shall have a wedding after all. If we do, it will be the biggest ever in Cornwall. We shall have to hire an Admiralty band and army buglers an
d the choirs of three churches,
all to celebrate that Dr Enys has been caught at last! . . . You see, I am weeping with relief. I am to be saved from the horrors of a spinster's life!" But Dr Enys, you notice, is also weeping, and that, I know, is for his lost freedom.'
`Caroline, please,' Ross said, wiping his hand across his own eyes.
`But I shall not desert you, Dwight,' Caroline said, patting his arm. `I shall stay near by this house until you are fit to travel, and shall take special care to ensure that you do not slip away to sea. And when you are fit to t
ravel,
I shall sit beside you
in a coach and link your arm so that you are not able to jump out. When shall we be married? Can you name the day to set my heart at rest?'