Despite the fact that she offered the best wages in the neighborhood, the girls would not look at her—saucy jades4! Had she inquired she would have learnt that, as a mistress, she was reported too free with her tongue and fists.
Gwithian fruitless, there was nothing for it but to try Mousehole. Teresa twisted her big horse about and set off forthwith for the fishing village in the hopes of picking up some crabber’s wench who could handle a basting6 pan—it was still early in the morning. A cook she must get by hook or crook7; Ortho was growling8 a great deal at his meals—her precious Ortho!
She was uneasy about her precious Ortho; his courtship of the Penaluna girl was not progressing favorably. He had not mentioned the affair, but to his doting9 mother all was plain as daylight. She knew perfectly10 well where he spent his evenings, and she knew as well as if he had told her that he was making no headway. Men successful in love do not flare11 like tinder at any tiny mishap12, sigh and brood apart in corners, come stumbling to bed at night damning the door latches13 for not springing to meet their hands, the stairs for tripping them up; do not publicly, and apropos14 of nothing, curse all women—meaning one particular woman. Oh, no, Ortho was beating up against a head wind.
Teresa was furious with the Penaluna hussy for presuming to withstand her son. She had looked higher for Ortho than a mere15 farmer’s daughter; but, since the farmer’s daughter did not instantly succumb16, Teresa was determined17 Ortho should have her—the haughty18 baggage!
After all Simeon owned the adjacent property and was undeniably well to do. The girl had looks of a sort (though the widow, being enormous herself, did not generally admire big women) and was reported a good housewife; that would solve the domestic difficulty. But the main thing was that Ortho wanted the chit, therefore he should have her.
Wondering how quickest this could be contrived19, she turned a corner of the lane and came upon the girl in question walking into Gwithian, a basket on her arm, her blue cloak blowing in the wind.
Teresa jerked her horse up, growling, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Mary replied and walked past.
Mary turned about. “Well?”
“What whimsy21 tricks are you serving my boy Ortho?” said Teresa, who was nothing if not to the point.
Mary’s eyebrows22 rose. “What do ’e mean, ‘whimsy tricks’? I do serve en a fitty supper nigh every evening of his life and listen to his tales till . . .”
“Oh, you know what I mean well enough,” Teresa roared. “Are ’e goin’ to have him? That’s what I want to know.”
“Have who?”
“My son.”
“Which son?” The two women faced each other for a moment, the black eyes wide with surprise, the brown sparkling with amusement; then Mary dropped a quick curtsey and disappeared round the corner.
Teresa sat still for some minutes glaring after her, mouth sagging23 with astonishment24. Then she cursed sharply; then she laughed aloud; then, catching25 her horse a vicious smack26 with the rein27, she rode on. The feather-headed fool preferred Eli to Ortho! Preferred that slow-brained hunk of brawn28 and solemnity to Ortho, the handsome, the brilliant, the daring, the sum of manly29 virtues30! It was too funny, too utterly31 ridiculous! Eli, the clod, preferred to Ortho, the diamond! The girl was raving32 mad, raving! Eli had visited Roswarva a good deal at one time, but not since Ortho’s return. Teresa hoped the girl was aware that Ortho was absolute owner of Bosula and that Eli had not a penny to his name—now. If she were not, Teresa determined she should not long go in ignorance.
At any rate, it could only be a question of time. Mary might still have some friendly feeling for Eli, but once she really began to know Ortho she would forget all about that. Half the women in the country would give their heads to get the romantic squire33 of Bosula; they went sighing after him in troops at fairs and public occasions. Yet something in the Penaluna girl’s firm jaw34 and steady brown eyes told Teresa that she was not easily swayed hither and thither35. She wished she could get Eli out of the way for a bit.
She rode over the hill and down the steep lane into Mousehole, and there found an unwonted stir afoot.
The village was full of seamen36 armed with bludgeons and cutlasses, running up and down the narrow alleys37 in small parties, kicking the doors in and searching the houses.
“Press gang,” Teresa was informed. They had landed from a frigate39 anchored just round the corner in Gwavas Lake and had so far caught one sound man, one epileptic and the village idiot, who was vastly pleased at having some one take notice of him at last.
A boy line fishing off Tavis Vov had seen the gang rowing in, given the alarm, and by the time the sailors arrived all the men were a quarter of a mile inland. Very amusing, eh? Teresa agreed that it was indeed most humorous, and added her shrewd taunts40 to those of the fishwives.
Then an idea sprang to her head. She went into the tavern41 and drank a pot of ale while thinking it over. When the smallest detail was complete she set out to find the officer in command.
She found him without difficulty—an elderly and dejected midshipman leaning over the slip rails, spitting into the murky42 waters of the harbor, and invited him very civilly to take a nip of brandy with her.
The officer accepted without question. A nip of brandy was a nip of brandy, and his stomach was out of order, consequent on his having supped off rancid pork the night before. Teresa led him to a private room in the tavern, ordered the drinks and, when they arrived, locked the door.
“Look ’e, captain,” said she, “do ’e want to make a couple of guineas?”
The midshipman’s dull glance leapt to meet hers, agleam with sudden interest, as Teresa surmised43 it would. She knew the type—forty years old, without influence or hope of promotion44, disillusioned45, shabby, hanging body and soul together on thirty shillings a month; there was little this creature would not do for two pounds down.
“What is it?” he snapped.
“I’ll give you two pounds and a good sound man—if you’ll fetch en.”
The midshipman shook his tarred hat. “Not inland; I won’t go inland.” Press gangs were not safe inland in Cornwall and he was not selling his life for forty shillings; it was a dirty life; but he still had some small affection for it.
“Who said it was inland? To a small little cove46 just this side of Monks47 Cove; you’ll know it by the waterfall that do come down over cliff there. T’eddn more’n a two-mile pull from here, just round the point.”
“Is the man there?”
“Not yet, but I’ll have en there by dusk. Do you pull your boat up on the little beach and step inside the old tinner’s adit—kind of little cave on the east side—and wait there till he comes. He’s a mighty48 strong man, I warn ’e, a notable wrestler49 in these parts, so be careful.”
“I’ll take four of my best and sand-bag him from behind,” said the midshipman, who was an expert in these matters. “Stiffens ’em, but don’t kill. Two pound ain’t enough, though.”
“It’s all you’ll get,” said Teresa.
“Four pound or nothing,” said the midshipman firmly.
They compromised at three pounds and Teresa paid cash on the spot. Ortho, the free-handed, kept her in plenty of money—so different from Eli.
The midshipman walked out of the front door, Teresa slipped out of the back and rode away. She had little fear the midshipman would fail her; he had her money, to be sure, but he would also get a bounty50 on Eli and partly save his face with his captain. He would be there right enough.
She continued her search for a cook in Paul and rode home slowly to gain time, turned her horse, as usual, all standing51, into the stable, and then went to look for her younger son.
She was not long in finding him; a noise of hammering disclosed his whereabouts.
She approached in a flutter of well-simulated excitement.
“Here you, Eli, Eli!” she called.
“What is it?” he asked, never pausing in his work.
“I’ve just come round by the cliffs from Mousehole; there’s a good ship’s boat washed up in Zawn-a-Bal. Get you round there quick and take her into Monks Cove; she’m worth five pounds if she’m worth a penny.”
Eli looked up. “Hey! . . . What sort of boat?”
“Gig, I think; she’m lying on the sand by the side of the adit.”
Eli whistled. “Gig—eh! All right, I’ll get down there soon’s I’ve finished this.”
Teresa stamped her foot. “Some o’ they Mousehole or Cove men’ll find her if you don’t stir yourself.”
Eli nodded. “All right, all right, I’m going. I’m not for throwing away a good boat any more’n you are. Just let me finish this gate. I shan’t be a minute.”
Teresa turned away. He would go—and there was over an hour to spare—he would go fast enough, go blindly to his fate. She turned up the valley with a feeling that she would like to be as far from the dark scene of action as possible. But it would not do Eli any harm, she told herself; he was not being murdered; he was going to serve in the Navy for a little while as tens of thousands of men were doing. Every sailor was not killed, only a small percentage. No harm would come to him; good, rather. He would see the world and enlarge his mind. In reality she was doing him a service.
Nevertheless her nerves were jumping uncomfortably. Eli was her own flesh and blood after all, John’s son. What would John, in heaven, say to all this? She had grasped the marvelous opportunity of getting rid of Eli without thinking of the consequences; she was an opportunist by blood and training, could not help herself.
Well, it was done now; there was no going back—and it would clear the way for Ortho.
Yet she could not rid herself of a vision of the evil midshipman crouching52 in the adit with his four manhandlers and sand-bags waiting, waiting, and Eli striding towards them through the dusk, whistling, all unconscious. She began to blubber softly, but she did not go home; she waddled53 on up the valley, sniffling, blundering into trees, blinking the tears back, talking to herself, telling John, in heaven, that it was all for the best. She would not go back to Bosula till after dark, till it was all over.
Eli strapped54 the blankets on more firmly, kicked the straw up round the horse’s belly55, picked up the oil bottle and stood back.
“Think he’ll do now,” he said.
Bohenna nodded. “?’Es, but ’twas a mercy I catched you in time, gived me a fair fright when I found en.”
“I’ll get Ortho to speak to mother,” Eli said. “?’Tisn’t her fault the horse isn’t dead. Here, take this bottle in with you.”
Bohenna departed.
Eli piled up some more straw and cleared the manger out. A shadow fell across the litter.
“Mash for who?” a voice inquired. Eli turned about and saw not Bohenna but Simeon Penaluna dressed in his best.
“Been to market,” Simeon explained; “looked in on the way back. What have you got here?”
“Horse down with colic. Mother turned him loose into the stable, corn bin57 was open, he ate his fill and then had a good drink at the trough. I’ve had a proper job with him.”
“All right now, eddn ’a?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“No.”
More shufflings. “We do brearly miss ’e.”
“That so?”
Simeon cleared his throat. “My maid asked ’e to supper some three months back . . . well, if you don’t come up soon it’ll be getting cold like.”
There was an uncomfortable pause; then Eli looked up steadily59. “I want you to understand, Sim, that things aren’t the same with me as they were now Ortho’s come home. My father died too sudden; he didn’t leave a thing to me. I’m nothing but a beggar now. Ortho . . .”
“Here, for gracious sake, don’t speak upon Ortho; he’s pretty nigh talked me deaf and dumb night after night of how he was a king in Barbary and what not and so forth5 . . . clunk, clunk, clunk! In the Lord’s name do you come up and let’s have a little sociable61 silence for a change.”
“Mean it,” said Simeon, laying a hairy paw on his shoulder. “Did you ever hear me or my maid say a word we didn’t mean—son?”
Eli rushed across the yard and into the house to fetch his best coat.
Teresa was standing in front of the fire, hands outstretched, shivering despite the blaze.
She reeled when her son went bounding past her, reeled as though she had seen a ghost.
“Eli! My God, Eli!” she cried. “What—how—where you been?”
“In the stable physicking your horse,” he said, climbing the stairs. “I sent Ortho after that boat.”
He did not hear the crash his mother made as she fell; he was in too much of a hurry.
Ortho climbed the forward ladder and came out on the upper deck. The ship was thrashing along under all plain sail, braced63 sharp up.
The sky was covered with torn fleeces of cloud, but blue patches gleamed through the rents, and the ship leapt forward lit by a beam of sunshine, white pinioned64, a clean bone in her teeth. A rain storm had just passed over, drenching65 her, and every rope and spar was outlined with glittering beads66; the wet deck shone like a plaque67 of silver. Cheerily sang the wind in the shrouds68, the weather leeches69 quivered, the reef points pattered impatient fingers, and under Ortho’s feet the frigate trembled like an eager horse reaching for its bit.
So he was aboardship again. How he had come there he didn’t know. He remembered nothing after reaching Zawn-a-Bal Cove and trying to push that boat off. His head gave an uncomfortable throb71. Ah, that was it! He had been knocked on the head—press gang.
Well, he had lost that damned girl, he supposed. No matter, there were plenty more, and being married to one rather hampered72 you with the others. Life on the farm would have been unutterably dull really. He was not yet thirty; a year or two more roving would do no harm. His head gave another throb and he put his hand to his brow.
A man polishing the ship’s bell noted73 the gesture and laughed. “Feelin’ sick, me bold farmer? How d’you think you’ll like the sea?”
“Farmer!” Ortho snarled74. “Hell’s bells, I was upper yard man of the Elijah Impey, pick of the Indies fleet!”
“Was you, begod?” said the polisher, a note of respect in his voice.
“Aye, that I was. Say, mate, what packet is this?”
“Triton, frigate, Captain Charles Mulholland.”
“The best.”
“She seems to handle pretty kind,” said Ortho, glancing aloft.
“Kind!” said the man, with enthusiasm. “She’ll eat out of your hand, she’ll talk to you.”
“Aha! . . . Know where we’re bound?”
“West Indies, I’ve heard.”
“West Indies!” Ortho had a picture of peacock islands basking76 in coral seas, of odorous green jungles, fruit-laden, festooned with ropes of flowers; of gaudy77 painted parrots preening78 themselves among the tree ferns; of black girls, heroically molded, flashing their white teeth at him. . . .
West Indies! He drew a deep breath. Well, at all events, that was something new.
The End
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1
canvassing
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| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的现在分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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3
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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4
jades
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| n.玉，翡翠（jade的复数形式）v.（使）疲（jade的第三人称单数形式） | |
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5
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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basting
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| n.疏缝；疏缝的针脚；疏缝用线；涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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8
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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9
doting
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| adj.溺爱的，宠爱的 | |
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10
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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11
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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12
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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13
latches
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| n.（门窗的）门闩( latch的名词复数 )；碰锁v.理解( latch的第三人称单数 )；纠缠；用碰锁锁上（门等）；附着（在某物上） | |
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14
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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15
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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16
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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17
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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18
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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19
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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20
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
whimsy
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| n.古怪，异想天开 | |
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22
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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23
sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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24
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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25
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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26
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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27
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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28
brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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29
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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30
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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31
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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32
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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33
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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34
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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35
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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36
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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37
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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38
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
frigate
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| n.护航舰，大型驱逐舰 | |
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40
taunts
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| 嘲弄的言语，嘲笑，奚落( taunt的名词复数 ) | |
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41
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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42
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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43
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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44
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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45
disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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46
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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47
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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48
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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49
wrestler
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| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
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50
bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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51
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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52
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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53
waddled
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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55
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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56
mash
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| n.麦芽浆，糊状物，土豆泥；v.把…捣成糊状，挑逗，调情 | |
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57
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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58
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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59
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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60
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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61
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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62
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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64
pinioned
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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66
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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67
plaque
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| n.饰板，匾，(医)血小板 | |
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68
shrouds
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| n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 )；寿衣；遮蔽物；覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 )；保密 | |
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69
leeches
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| n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 )；蚂蟥；榨取他人脂膏者；医生 | |
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70
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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71
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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72
hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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74
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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75
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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76
basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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77
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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78
preening
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的现在分词 ) | |
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