The Birthright

"Showing a false light by the Lizard."

"It's a lie."

"Why have we got you, then?"

I was almost dazed by astonishment. Presently, however, I saw that one of the men was the officer to whom Israel Barnicoat had spoken in the kiddleywink. This set me thinking. These men would be the tools of Cap'n Jack. This was the step he had taken to accomplish his purposes concerning me. If I were convicted of showing a false light on the headland, I should be punished by death; at least, I imagined so.

"Anyhow," continued the man, "you must go along wi' me."

"Where?"

"To the lockup."

Now, if there was anything I desired it was to keep clear of the magistrates. I knew that Richard Tresidder would be among my judges, and that I should receive no mercy. But more than all this, while smuggling was lightly regarded, there was a strong feeling against the wrecker. It is true people were glad of a wreck along the coast, and many a valuable thing had been obtained thereby, but the whole countryside cried out against those who sought to lure a vessel on to destruction, even while they did not object to share in the wreckage.

"But why must I go?"

"Because we seed you carr'in' a false light along the coast."

"When?"

"Laast night."

There were three to one, and I could do nothing. So I let them lead me to the lockup, where I had to wait until the magistrates were ready to try me.

What happened while I was there I know not. I was too dazed, too bewildered to tell. While I had been with Naomi Penryn I seemed to be lifted into heaven, and then within a few hours of our parting all my hopes were destroyed. I saw nothing before me but cruel imprisonment or possible death, for I knew that Richard Tresidder would do his worst.

When the time of my trial came on and I entered the court-house, I saw that several justices sat upon the bench, and among them was Richard Tresidder, who looked at me triumphantly, as though he rejoiced to see me there, which I have no doubt he did.

Old Admiral Trefry was the one who spoke to me, however. "It is not long since you were here, Jasper Pennington," he said, "and I am grieved to see you."

Then the Clerk read out the charge against me, which was a string of lies from beginning to end, for, as I have told in these pages, I threw the lantern over the cliff, and thus kept the light from being shown. I discovered afterward, too, that the vessel Cap'n Jack had intended to wreck had landed safe in Falmouth Harbour.

I cannot remember very distinctly what took place at the trial, or rather the first part of it is to me a very confused memory. I know, however, that things looked very black against me, for each of the Preventive men swore that he had seen me at eleven o'clock on the previous night showing the false light on the coast.

I declared this to be a lie with very great vehemence, and swore that I had shown no false light.

Presently Richard Tresidder spoke, and his voice made my blood gallop through my veins, and my heart full of bitterness.

"Will the prisoner give an account of his actions since he escaped from the whipping-post more than two months ago?" he asked.

Now if I did this I should indeed criminate myself, for a confession that I had been with Cap'n Jack's gang would be to ally myself with the sturdiest set of rogues on the coast, and would enable Richard Tresidder to get me hanged at the next assizes.

"You hear the question, Jasper Pennington," said Admiral Trefry; "will you tell what you have been doing these last two months and more?"

But I held my peace, and seeing this the justices conversed one with another. Had they all been of Richard Tresidder's way of thinking I should have been sent to Bodmin Gaol to wait the next assizes without further ado; but Admiral Trefry, who was uncle to Lawyer Trefry, wanted to befriend me, and so I was allowed opportunities for befriending myself which would not have been given to me had my enemy been allowed his way.

Presently a thought struck me which at the time seemed very feasible, and I wondered that I had not thought of it in the earlier part of the trial.

"May I be allowed to ask the Preventive men a few questions?" I asked.

"You may," replied the Admiral. "You can ask them questions as to their evidence by which you are accused of attempting to lure a vessel on to destruction."

"I would like to ask, first of all, what I should gain by doing this? What would it profit me to wreck a vessel?"

The Preventive man who had been the chief spokesman seemed a little confused, then he said, with a great deal of assurance, "I believe, your worship, that he is one of a gang of desperadoes and wreckers who live over by Kynance."

"May I ask," I said, "what reason he has for believing this?"

"Your worship," said the officer, "we know that there is a gang of men who infest the coast. For a long time we have tried to lay hands on them in vain. They are very cunning, and, although we have suspicions, we as yet have not been able to bring any positive evidence against them, and we believe that he is associated with them."

"But we cannot condemn Jasper Pennington without evidence," said Admiral Trefry.

"At the same time I submit," said the magistrate's clerk, after Richard Tresidder had spoken to him, "that the fact of his carrying a false light goes to prove that he is associated with some gang of wreckers."

"But there is no proof," remarked the Admiral.

On this there was a stir in the room, and I heard a voice with which I was familiar claiming to give evidence.

A minute later Israel Barnicoat was sworn.

"Do you know this man?" asked the Admiral of the Preventive men.

"Very well," was the reply, "a most respectable, well-behaved fisherman."

Then Israel gave his evidence. He said that he had seen me in company with two men at Kynance who were well-known free-traders. These two men went by the name of "Brandy Bill" and "Fire the Poker." They had on several occasions been punished, but were still a terror to honest fishermen who wanted to get a living in a lawful way.

After this a great many questions were asked and answered, and I saw that my case looked blacker than ever. I could see that Cap'n Jack had used this means of getting rid of me, and that Israel Barnicoat had volunteered, for reasons that were apparent, to try and get me hanged.

Then I asked another question.

"What time do you say it was that you saw me showing the false light?" I asked.

"Half-past eleven," was the reply.

"I should say that it was nearer twelve," replied another. "It was a most desperate affair, your worship. He throwed the lantern over the cliff and took to his heels. We followed a goodish bit afore we could catch un, and when we ded lay hould ov un he ded fight like a mazed dragon. It was as much as three ov us could do to maaster un."

Now this put another thought in my mind. I was in Pennington kitchen at the very time they said they were struggling with me, and I was about to say so, when I remembered what it would mean. If I told them where I was I should have most likely to mention Naomi Penryn's name, and that I did not like to do. Still I did not want to be sent to Bodmin Gaol without a struggle.

"You say you followed me some distance?" I said.

"Yes; we ded."

"How far before you caught me?"

"Nigh pon an hour."

"It was very dark that night."

"Iss, it was."

"Did you ever lose sight of me?"

"Iss; once or twice."

"Then how can you be sure that I, the man you captured, was the same man you say you saw showing the light on the headland?"

At this the man looked confused, and then I wished that I had tried to get a lawyer to defend me, for I saw how much better he could have done it than I could defend myself. For my mind was in a very confused state all the while, so confused that my remembrance of it now is by no means clear. Indeed, I know I have described my trial with anything but clearness as to the order of events, although I have set down, truthfully, the general facts of the whole business.

I do remember, however, that Admiral Trefry asked the Preventive men some questions upon this very point which upset them very considerably; and I also remember, seeing that for the moment things looked a little brighter for me, I said to the Admiral that I was a good many miles from the Lizard at the very time these men had declared they were pursuing me.

"Where were you, then?" asked the Admiral.

"I was in St. Eve."

"Where there?"

"At Pennington."

At this Richard Tresidder started up in astonishment.

"Did any one see you at Pennington?" asked the Admiral.

"Yes."

"Who saw you?"

At this I was silent, and I was wishing I had not said so much, when I heard a voice that thrilled me asking to give evidence.

CHAPTER XII

HOW MY LOVE SAVED ME – WHEN FREE I GO TO SEA, AND MONTHS LATER COME BACK TO BETSEY'S COTTAGE AND HEAR BAD NEWS

As I turned my heart seemed to stand still, for I saw Naomi Penryn, but when for a moment her eyes met mine it started thumping against my side as though it had been set at liberty from bondage. I saw, too, that Richard Tresidder was as surprised as I, and I was afraid lest my love should be taken to task for what she had done. For a few minutes everything seemed to swim before my eyes, and my head whirled so that I thought I was going to faint; but presently as I heard Naomi in sweet, steady tones answering questions my strength came back to me again.

"You say," said Admiral Trefry, "that Jasper Pennington was in Pennington kitchen at midnight last Wednesday?"

"He was," replied Naomi, clearly.

After that a lawyer asked her concerning many things. So impudent was he that I had a difficulty in keeping myself from jumping from the place where I stood and throttling him on the spot.

"Were you alone in the kitchen?" asked this lawyer.

"I was not."

"Who was with you?"

"Tryphena, the cook."

"How do you know it was midnight?"

"I heard the kitchen clock strike."

"What did Jasper Pennington say to you?"

"You need not answer that question," remarked Admiral Trefry.

"Why did Jasper Pennington come into the house that night?" again queried the lawyer.

"Need I answer that?" asked Naomi.

"No," answered the Admiral, and I saw that he was anxious to save Naomi from awkward questions, for which I blessed him. "All we want to know is whether you are sure Jasper Pennington was at Pennington on the night in question at the time you state. We have nothing to do as to why he was there or what was said."

I saw, too, that Richard Tresidder did not wish the lawyer to ask any more questions, although I was sure the poor girl would suffer when she returned to Pennington, and I wondered then how I could save her from pain.

And so very few questions were asked after that, and a little later I was a free man; for it was clear that if I was at Pennington I could not be rushing along the headland by the Lizard, and so it must have been some other man that the Preventive men had chased, and I had been captured by mistake.

It all seemed so wonderful to me that I could hardly believe that my danger was past; at the same time I longed greatly to speak to Naomi and thank her for what she had done. But nowhere could I see her.

As I walked down Falmouth Street I seemed to be treading on air. If I had loved my love before, it seemed to have increased a thousandfold now; besides, I knew that she must care for me, or she would not have braved so much to save me from danger. I had difficulty in keeping from shouting aloud, so great was my joy. I felt that my strength had come back to me, and I cared no more for the threats of Cap'n Jack than for the anger of a puling child. I knew that Israel Barnicoat was somewhere lying in wait to do me harm, but I was not afraid. I saw this, too: Richard Tresidder would desire to have as little as possible said about my visit to Pennington, especially as he hoped that Naomi Penryn would be his son's wife. I was sure he would seek other means to harm me, but not in a public way; if I was struck it would be in the dark; but, as I said, I was not afraid, for had not my love come boldly to my aid, and saved me from the enmity of evil men?

I had got nearly to the end of the crooked street which makes Falmouth town, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder.

"Well, Jasper," I heard a familiar voice say, and, turning, I saw Lawyer Trefry.

"If I were you, Jasper, I would get out of this part of the country. You have escaped this time, but, as I have told you, the Tresidders are hungry dogs. They will never leave a bone till it's clean picked."

I told him I knew this, but I did so with a laugh.

"I tell you they'll make you laugh on the other side of your mouth, my lad. I know more than you think – more than I can tell you just now. Get out of Falmouth as soon as you can, my lad. Cap'n Jack Truscott hasn't done with you yet – yes, I know about him – neither has Nick Tresidder. I'll let you have a few pounds, my boy; a vessel will leave the harbour for Plymouth, and then on to London within twenty-four hours. Get on board now in the daylight and don't leave her. When once you land at London Bridge you'll be safe."

Now I must confess that the thought of seeing London was very dear to me, but I remembered Naomi, and as I thought of the way her eyes flashed upon me I could not make up my mind to go far away.

"Come and have some dinner with me for old acquaintance' sake, Jasper," he said, "and let's talk about things."

So I went with him, for I felt he was my true friend, although all the time I longed to be trying to find Naomi, longed to tell her how I thanked her for doing what she had done.

Lawyer Trefry asked me many questions when we were together, and when I had told him my story he persuaded me to take some money, which he told me he was sure I should repay, and I promised him that I would do as he had bidden me, and would go to Plymouth and, if possible, to London. I did this sorely against my will, for it grieved me exceedingly to be away from Cornwall at a time when hope filled my heart. Besides, I could not help thinking that Richard Tresidder would take steps to render Naomi's life miserable. She would be asked many questions as to my visit, while Tryphena would be severely catechised. At first I did not think of the sacrifice my love would have to make in order to serve me, but as I thought more and more of what I had escaped I realised that she would probably have to suffer much persecution. For she had no friends other than those who sought her wealth, and she was in their power until she was twenty-one. Besides, as I recalled to memory the conversation I had heard between Richard Tresidder and his son, I knew that no stone would be left unturned in order to make her comply with their wishes. All this made me long to stay near her; but I also realised that there was another side to the question. How could I help her by staying in the district? Moreover, was I not in great danger myself? Was not Cap'n Jack's gang on the look-out for me? They would know that I should be a danger to them, and would seek to serve me as they had served others who they had thought were unfaithful to them. In addition to this Richard Tresidder would do his utmost to harm me; especially was this apparent in the light of what Naomi had done. Moreover, I could do nothing to help her; indeed, she would probably suffer less persecution from the Tresidders if they knew I had left that part of the country.

So I kept my promise to Lawyer Trefry, and went on board the White Swan which lay in Falmouth Harbour, and a few hours later was on my way to Plymouth.

While we were sailing along the coast I tried to think of my future, for never had it looked so black and hopeless as now. It is true I rejoiced at the thought of Naomi Penryn's kindness, and dreamed glad things of the days to come; but when I began to face facts, and saw my condition as it really was, my case looked hopeless indeed.

On our way to Plymouth I proved to Captain Maynard that I was not altogether ignorant of the duties of a sailor, and so pleased was he with me that he offered me a berth on the White Swan. Knowing of nothing better that I could do I accepted, and for the next few months worked as a common sailor. During that time we visited several ports on the coast. I saw Weymouth, Southampton, Portsmouth, Dover and London, but I will not write of my experiences at this time. Nothing of importance happened, neither does that time affect the history I am trying to write.

Of course, I was greatly moved with what I saw in London; at the same time, even as I mingled with the throng of people who threaded London streets, I longed for the quiet of St. Eve, and thought much of the maid to whom I had given my heart. At the same time, I saw no means whereby I could get back to Pennington, although I thought long and earnestly of many plans.

I stayed with Captain Maynard seven months, and then made up my mind to go back to Cornwall again. I felt sure that Cap'n Jack and his gang must have practically forgotten me, and I could not help thinking that Naomi Penryn needed me. I dreamed often that she was persecuted by the Tresidders, and that they were using many cruel means to make her marry Nick. I was afraid, too, that she, friendless and alone as she was, would at length be forced to yield to their wishes. And so although I had not moved one inch forward in the direction of winning back what was rightly my own, and although I could seemingly do no good by so doing, I determined that I would go back to Pennington again, and if possible obtain another interview with Naomi. My heart was very sad, for every day my love seemed to grow more hopeless. I had told her the desire of my heart, but although she had been kind to me, and had sacrificed much, she had not told me with her own lips that she cared for me more than she might care for any man who she thought was unjustly treated.

And thus the old proverb that "actions speak louder than words" is not true. For actions may be misinterpreted and misunderstood. Often I tried to comfort myself with the thought that had she not cared for me more than she cared for any other, she would not have granted me an interview that night when I escaped from Cap'n Jack's gang. Again I told myself many hundreds of times that did her heart not beat for me she would never have braved her uncle's anger, braved the cruel questions at Falmouth, and bore what must be hard for a shrinking maiden to bear. But for all this I could not believe that her heart was mine. How could it be? Who was I that I should be so blessed? A landless wanderer, who had been pilloried as a vagabond, and hooted at by the scum of the earth. No, actions did not speak loud enough for me. Nothing but the words from her own dear lips, saying, "Jasper, I love you," could convince me, unworthy as I was, that I could be aught to her.

All the same I determined to go to her, I determined to see her, for my heart ached in my hunger to be near her, and my eyes would not be satisfied until they again feasted on her beauty.

It was early in July when I landed in Falmouth Harbour. I think it was on the first of the month. It was late in the afternoon when I set foot on solid earth, but I did not stay in the town. Like one possessed I hurried toward St. Eve, and about half past nine at night I stood in front of Betsey Fraddam's cottage.

"Come in, Maaster Jasper," said the old woman; "supper es zet fur three. I knawed you wos a-comin', and zo ded Eli."

So I entered the hut, and there surely I saw three plates placed on the little table.

The old woman seemed to regard my coming as a matter of course, and made no more ado than if I had left her cottage that morning. Eli, on the other hand, made much of me. He caught my hands and fondled them, he rubbed them against his poor distorted face, and looked up into my eyes as though he were overjoyed at my coming.

"Jasper, I love 'ee – love 'ee!" he cried. "Eli zo glad you'm back. Eli do knaw, Eli got a lot to tell 'ee!"

"I think we'll shut the door," crooned Betsey as she looked anxiously around the cottage. "Nobody do knaw who's 'bout. Ah, Maaster Jasper, you ded a bad thing when you made an enemy of Jack Fraddam. But ther, you be 'ungry, and you aan't 'ad nothin' to ait for a long time. When I knawed you wos a-comin' I maade a conger pie. I knaw you like that. Conger, baaked in milk and parsley, Jasper, my deear. That ed'n bad fur a witches' supper, es et?"

"How did you know I was coming?" I asked. "I had not made up my mind to come here to-night until I landed in Falmouth. And no one knew I was coming to Falmouth. How did you know?"

"How ded I knaw?" asked Betsey, scornfully. "How do I knaw everything? Ef you'd a traited me vitty, Jasper, I'd a done more fur 'ee. You'd be in Pennington now ef you'd come and axed me; but you wudden. 'Ow ded 'ee git on at Jack Fraddam's then?"

"Who's Jack Fraddam?"

"Oa, Cap'n Jack Truscott, seein' you're so partikler. The Fraddam family es a big wawn, my deear."

"What relation is Cap'n Jack to the Fraddams and to you?" I asked.

"Ef I was to tell 'ee you'd knaw, wudden 'ee. But I bean't a-goin' to tell 'ee, cheeldrean. No, I bean't, but zet up to supper. Then I've got sum things to tell 'ee 'bout somebody at Penninton, and arterwards I'll tell yer fortin, my deear. I bean't a gipsy, but I c'n do that."

As I sat at the table with Eli opposite me on the little window-seat, and Betsey near me, it seemed as though I had not been away at all. Neither did the old woman show any interest in what I had been doing.

"Why 'ave 'ee come back, Jasper?" she asked, presently, looking at me with her light, piercing eyes, while she kept on munching with her toothless gums, until the white stiff hairs which grew on the tip of her nose almost touched those on her chin.

I did not speak.

"No, you caan't tell," said she; "you dunnaw why yerzelf. You've cum 'cause you caan't 'elp et, my deear. Yer 'art kipt achin' and longin' so that you cudden stay away."

I continued silent, for I knew she told the truth.

"But 'tes no use, Jasper, my deear. You aa'nt a got the money to buy back Penninton, and besides the job's done."

"What job's done?" I asked, eagerly.

"Neck Trezidder, and thicky purty maid."

"How? What do you mean? Tell me?" I cried, starting from the seat.

"Ther' was no Penninton ever born that's a match for a Trezidder," chuckled Betsey.

"Tell me!"

"Th' baans (banns) 'll be cried in the church next Sunday," said Betsey.

"Whose?" I cried.

"Neck Trezidder's an' the young laady called Penryn," laughed the old dame.

"How do you know?" I asked, feeling my knees tremble and my heart grow cold.

"It doan't need a white witch to know that," cried Betsey. "'Tes in everybody's mouth. Ef you stayed a month longer, they'd 'a bin married by now."

I did not stop to consider how Betsey knew of my love for Naomi Penryn. It was evident she did know as she seemed to know everything else. Besides, I was in a state of torment at the news she had told me.

"Have the banns been called in church?" I asked.

"Iss," cried Betsey.

"No," said Eli; "I went ther' laast Zunday to heer fur myzelf, but the passon ded'n zay nothin' 'bout et."

"Aw," grunted Betsey, angry that she had been discovered to have made a mistake, yet looking lovingly toward her son. "Then they'll be cried nex' Zunday."

"No they won't," I cried.

"Tell 'ee ther's no chance fur 'ee, Jasper. Ther'v bin oal soarts ov taales 'bout you. She's awful vexed now that she saaved 'ee from 'angin'."

By this time I had somewhat mastered my excitement, and I knew that the best way to learn all Betsey knew was to be silent.

"'Tes like this," said Betsey. "Tryphena, Penninton's cook, 'ev got the sack for laivin' you git into the kitchin."

"And what's become of her?"

"She's livin' in Fammuth. Where she do git 'er money I dunnaw. I aan't a took the trouble to vind out. As fur the purty maid she've 'ad a offul life. And she've promised to marry young Maaster Nick. Es fur you, Jasper, my deear, why Israel Barnicoat, who do live ovver to Kynance, do zay that 'ee zeed you in Plemmouth weth a maid thet you wos a-goin' to marry. Others 'ave zeed 'ee, too. Anyhow, the purty maid es a-goin' to marry Nick."