 Part 6 Chapter 18 of the Manxman This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings were in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Manxman by Sir Hall Cain. Part 6 Chapter 18 The proclamation of Philip's appointment as Governor of the Isle of Man had been read in the churches and nailed up on the doors of the courthouses and the clerk of the rolls was pushing on the arrangements for the installation. Let it be on the Tuesday of Easter week, he wrote, and of course at Castle Ruchen. The retiring governor is ready to return for that day to deliver up his seals of office and to receive your commission. P.S. Private. And if you think that soft-voiced girl has been long enough at Her Majesty's pleasure, I will release her. Not that she is taking any harm at all, but we had better get these little accounts squared off before your great day comes. Meantime you may wish to provide for her future. Be liberal, Christian. You can afford to treat her liberally. But what am I saying? Don't I know that you will be ridiculously over-generous? Philip answered this letter promptly. The Tuesday of Easter week will do as well as any other day. As to the lady, let her stay where she is until the morning of the ceremony, when I will myself settle everything. Philip's correspondence was now plentiful, and he had enough work to cope with it. The four towns of the island vied with each other in efforts to show him honour. Douglas, as the scene of his career, wished to entertain him at a banquet. Ramsay, as his birthplace, wanted to follow him in procession. He declined all invitations. From and morning he wrote, and besides, I am not well. Ah, no, he thought. Nobody shall reproach me when the time comes. There was no pause, no pity, no relenting rest in the world's kindness. It began to take shapes of almost fiendish cruelty in his mind, as if the devil's own laughter was behind it. He inquired about Pete. Hardly anybody knew anything. Hardly anybody cared. The spendthrift had come down to his last shilling, and sold up the remainder of his furniture. The broker was to empty the house on Easter Tuesday. That was all, not a word about the divorce. The poor neglected victim, forgotten in the turmoil of his wrongdoers' glory, had that last strength of a strong man, the strength to be silent and to forgive. Philip asked about the child. She was still at Elm Cottage, in the care of the woman with the upturned nose and the shrill voice. Every night he devised plans for getting possession of Kate's little one, and every morning he abandoned them, as difficult or cruel or likely to be spurned. On Easter Monday he was busy in his room at Belour, with a mounted messenger riding constantly between his gate and government offices. He had spent the morning on two important letters, both with the Home Secretary. One was sealed with his seal as deemster, the other was written on the official paper of government house. He was instructing the messenger to register these letters when, through the open door, he heard a formidable voice in the hall. It was Pete's voice. A moment afterwards Gemma Lord came up with a startled face. He's here himself, Your Excellency. Whatever am I to do with him? Bring him up, said Philip. Gemma began to stammer. But, but, and then the bishop may be here any minute. Asked the bishop to wait in the room below. Pete was heard coming upstairs. Aisy all, aisy, stoop your little head, boch, that's the ticket. Philip had not spoken to Pete since the night of the drinking of the brandy and water in the bedroom. He could not help it, his hand shook. There would be a painful scene. Stoop again, darling, there you are. And then Pete was in the room. He was carrying the child on one shoulder. They were both in their best clothes. Pete looked older and somewhat thinner. The tan of his cheeks was fretted out in pale patches under the eyes, which were nevertheless bright. He had the face of a man who had fought a brave fight with life and been beaten. He had bore the world no grudge. Gemma Lord and the messenger were gone from the room in a moment and the door was closed. What do you think of that, Phil? Isn't she a little beauty? Pete was dancing the child on his knee and looking sideways down at it with eyes of rapture. She's as sweet as an angel, said Philip in a low tone. Isn't she now, said Pete? And then he rattled on as if he were the happiest man alive. You've been wanting something like this yourself this long time, Phil. Deed you have, though. It would be diverting you wonderful. Terrible the fun there is in babies. Talk about play actors. They're only funeral mutes where babies come. Pretending this and pretending that. It's mortal amusing they are. You'd be getting up from your books. Tired, shocking and ready for a bit of fun and going to the stair head and shouting down. Where's my little woman? Then up she be coming, step by step, holding on to the banisters, dot and carry one. And my gracious, the dust they'd be in the study. You down on the carpet on all fours and the little ones straddle across your back and slipping down to your neck. Same for all the world as the man in the picture with the world atop of his shoulders. And your own little world would be up there too, laughing and crowing mortal. And then at night, Phil, at night, getting up from your summonses and your warranties and going creeping to the little one's room tippy-toe, tippy-toe. And is she sleeping comfortably, thinks you? And listening at the crack of the door and hearing her breathing and slipping into look and everything quiet and the red fire on her little face. And God bless her, the darling, says you and then back to your desk, content. Oh, you'll have to be having a little one of your own one of these days, Phil. He has come to say something, thought Philip. The child regaled off Pete's knee and began to creep him out the floor. Philip tried to command himself and to talk easily. And how have you been yourself, Pete, he asked? Well said Pete, meddling with his hair, only middling somehow. He looked down at the carpet and faltered. You'll be wondering at me, Phil, but you see he hesitated. Not to tell you a word of a lie, then with a rush. I'm going foreign again, that's the fact. Again? Well I am, said Pete, looking ashamed. Yes, truth enough, that's what I'm thinking of doing. You see, with a persuasive air, when a man's bitten by travel it's like the hydrophobia exactly. He can't rest no time in one bed at all. Must be running here and running there and running regular. It's the way with me anyway. Used to think the old island would be big enough for the rest of my days. But no, I'm longing, shocking for the mines again, and the compound and the niggers and the wildlife out yonder. The sea's calling me, you know. And then he laughed. Philip understood him. Pete meant to take himself out of the way. Shall you stay long, he faltered? Well yes, I was thinking so, said Pete. You see, the stuff isn't panning out now, same as it used to. And fortunes aren't made as fast as they were in my time. Not that I'm wanting a fortune, neither. Is it likely now? But still and for all, well, I'll be away a good spell anyway. Philip tried to ask if he intended to go soon. Tomorrow served by the packet to Liverpool for the sailing on Wednesday. I've been going the round saying goodbye to the old chums, John Ake and John The Widow and Nick Blightly and Kelly The Postman. Not much heart at some of them. Just a bit of a something stowed away in their giblets. But it isn't right to be expecting too much at all. This is the only one that doesn't seem willing to part with me. Pete's dog had followed him into the room and was sitting soberly by the side of his chair. There's no shaking him off, poor old chap. The dog got up and weighed his stump. Well, we've tramped the world together, haven't we, Demster? He doesn't seem tired of me yet, neither. Pete's face lengthened. But there's Granny now. The old angel is going about like a bit of a thunder cloud and doesn't know in the world whether to burst on me or not. Thinks I've been cruel, seemingly. I can't be explaining to her, neither. Maybe you'll set it right for me when I'm gone, sir. It's you for a job like that, you know. Don't want her to be thinking hard of me, poor old thing. Pete whistled at the child and hallowed to it. And then in a lower tone he continued, Not been to Castle Town, sir. Got as far as Bal Salla and saw the Castle Tower. Then my heart was losing me and I turned back. You'll say goodbye for me, Phil. Tell her I forgave. No, not that, though. Say I left her my love. That won't do neither. You'll know best what to say when the time comes, Phil, so I'll leave it with you. Maybe you'll tell her I went away cheerful and content and well, happy, why not? No harm in saying that at all. Not breaking my heart, anyway. For when a man's a man... Clearing his throat. I'm bad dreadful these days wanting a smook in the mornings. May I smook here? I may. You're good, too. He cut his tobacco with his discoloured knife, rolled it, charged his pipe and lit it. Sorry to be going away just before your own great day, Phil. I'll get the skipper to fire around as we're steaming by Castle Town. And if there's a band aboard, I'll tip them a trifle to play Mill Corraine. That'll spake to you like a blackbird's whistle, as the saying is. Looks like deserting it, though, but, chute, it would be no surprise to me at all. I've seen it coming these years and years. You'll be the first manxman living, says I, the day I sailed before. You've not to save me, neither. Do you remember the morning on the key and the oath between the pair of us, me swearing you same as a high bailiff, nothing and nobody to come between us? Do you mind it, Phil? And nothing has and nothing shall. He puffed at his pipe and said significantly, you'll be getting married soon. Oh, you will. I know you will. I'm sad and sure you will. Philip could not look into his face. He felt little and mean. You're a wise man, sir, and a great man. But if a plain common chap may give you a bit of advice, oh, but you'll be losing no time, though. I'll not be here myself to see it. I'll be on the water, maybe, with the waves washing again the gunnel and the wind rattling in the rigging and the ship burrowing into the darkness of the sea. But I'll be knowing it's morning at home and the sun shining and a sort of a warm quietness everywhere and you and her at the old church together. The pipe was puffing audibly. Tell her I lay for my blessing. Tell her, but the way I'm smoking it's shocking. Your curtains will be smelling thick twist for a century. Philip's moist eyes were following the child along the floor. What about the little one, he asked with difficulty. I tell you the truth, Phil, that's the far I came. Well, mostly anyway. You see, a child isn't fit for a compound exactly. Not but they're thinking diamonds of a little thing out there, especially if it's a girl. But still and for all with niggers about and chaps as rough as a thorn bush and no manners to spake of. Philip interrupted eagerly. Will you leave her with Granny? Well, no, that wasn't what I was thinking. Granny's a bit old getting and she's had her whack. Wanting asement in her old days anyway. Then she'll be knocking under before the little one's up. That's only to be expected. No, I was thinking. What do you think I was thinking now? What said Philip with quick coming breath? He did not raise his head. I was thinking, well, yes I was then. It's a fact, though. I was thinking maybe yourself now. Pete. Philip had started up and grasped Pete by the hand. But he could say no more. He felt crushed by Pete's magnanimity. And Pete went on as if he were asking great favour. She's been your heart's blood to you, Pete, thinks I to myself. And there isn't nobody but himself you could trust her with. Nobody else you would give her up to. He'll love her, thinks I. He'll cherish her. He'll rear her as if she was his own. He'll be the same thing as a father itself to her. Philip was struggling to keep up. I've been laving something for her too, said Pete. No, no. Yes, though, one of the first mancs of state's going. Caesar had the deeds, but I've been taking them to the high bailiff and doing everything regular. When I'm gone, sir, Philip tried to protest. Oh, but a man can lave what he likes to his own, sir, can't he? Philip was silent. He could say nothing. The make-believe was to be kept up to the last tragic moment. And out yonder, lying on my bunk in the sheds, good mattresses and thick blankets filled, nothing to complain of at all, I'll be watching her growing up, year by year, same as if she was under my eye constant. She's in pinafores now, thinks I. Now she's in long frocks and is doing up her hair. She's as straight as a nosier now, and red as a rose, and the best-looking girl on the island, and the spitting picture of what her mother used to be. Or I'll be seeing her in my mind's eyes, sir, plainer nor any photograph. Pete puffed furiously at his pipe. And the mother, I'll be seeing herself, too, a woman every inch of her, God bless her. Wherever there's a poor girl lying in her shames, she'll be there, I'll go bail on that. And yourself, I'll be seeing yourself, sir, whiter maybe, and the sun going down on you, but strong for all. And when any poor fellow has had a knock-down blow and the world is darkening round him, he'll be coming to you for light and for strength, and you'll be holding out the right hand to him because you're knowing yourself what it is to fall and get up again, and because you're a man, and God has made friends with you. Pete rammed his thumb into his pipe and stuffed it still smoking into his waistcoat pocket. Chut, he said, huskily. The talk a man will be putting out when he's going away for him. All for poetry, then, or something of that spacious. Hmm, hmm, clearing his throat. Must be giving up the pipe, though, not much worth for the voice at all. Philip could not speak. The strength and grandeur of the man overwhelmed him. It cut him to the heart that Pete could never see, could never hear, how he would wash away his shame. The child had crawled across the room to an open cabinet that stood in one corner, and there possessed herself of a shell which she was making show of holding to her ear. Well, did you ever cry, Pete? Look at that child now. She's knowing it's a shell. Deed she is, though. Oh, crawling regular, sir, morning to-night. Would you like to see the prettiest sight in the world, Phil? He went down on his knees and held out his arms. Come here, you little sandpiper. Fix that chair apiece nearer, sir. That's the ticket. Good thing Nancy isn't here. She'd be on to us like the mischief. Wonderful handy with babies, though, and if anybody was wanting a nurse now, a stepmother's breath is cold. But, Nancy, my goch, you'd look over the hedge at her lammy, but she's shouting fit for an earthquake. Stand nice now, kitty. Stand nice, boch. The woman's about right, too. The little one's legs are like bits of quail bone. Come now, boch, come. Pete put the child to stand with its back to the chair and then leaned towards it with his arms outspread. The child staggered a step in the sea of one-yard space that lay between, looked back at the irrecoverable chair, looked down on the distant ground and then plunged forward with a nervous laugh and fell into Pete's arms. Bravo. Wasn't that nice, Phil? Ever see anything prettier than a child's first step? Again, kitty, boch. But go to your new father this time. Aisy now. Aisy. In a thick voice. Give me a kiss first with a choking gurgle. One more, darling, with a broken laugh. Now face the other way. One, two. Are you ready, Phil? Phil held out his long white trembling hands. Yes, with a smothered sob. Three, four, and away. The child's fingers slipped into Philip's palm. There was another halt, another plunge, another nervous laugh, and then the child was in Philip's arms. His head was over it, and he was clasping it to his heart. After a moment Philip, without raising his eyes, said, Pete. But Pete had stolen softly from the room. Pete, where are you? Where was he? He was on the road outside, crying like a boy, no like a man. At thought of the happiness he had left upstairs. End of Part 6, Chapter 18. Part 6, Chapter 19 of the Manxman. This was a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings were in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Manxman by Sir Hall Cain. Part 6, Chapter 19. The town of Peel was in a great commotion that night. It was the night of St Patrick's Day, and the mackerel fleet were leaving for consale. A hundred and fifty boats lay in the harbour, each with a light in its binnacle, a fire in its cabin, smoke coming from its stovepipe, and its sails half set. The sea was fresh, there was a smart breeze from the north-west, and the air was full of the brine. At the turn of the tide the boats began to drop down the harbour. Then there was a rush of women and children, and old men to the end of the pier. Mothers were seeing their sons off, women their husbands, children their fathers, girls their boys, all full of fun and laughter and joyful cries. One of the girls remembered that the men were leaving the island before the installation of the new governor. Straight away they started a game of make-believe, the make-believe of electing the governor for themselves. Who are you voting for, Mr Quail? Oh, a Dempster Christian, of course. Throw us your rope, then, and we'll give you a pool. Heave, oh, girls! And the rope would be whipped round a mooring post on the key. The girls would seize it, and the boat would go slipping past the pier round the castle rocks and then away before the north-wester like a gull. Good luck, Harry. Whips of money coming home, Jim. Write us a letter, mind you, right now. Good night, Father. No crying yet, no sign of tears, nothing but fresh young faces, bright eyes and peels of laughter. As one by one the boat slid out into the fresh green water of the bay, and the wind took them and they shot into the night. Even the dogs on the key frisked about and barked as if they were going crazy with delight. In the midst of this happy scene, a man wearing a monkey jacket and a wide-brimmed soft hat came up to the harbour with a little misshapen dog at his heels. He stood for a moment as if bewildered by the strange midnight spectacle before him. Then he walked through the throng of young people and listened a while to their talk and laughter. No one spoke to him, and he spoke to no one. His dog followed with its nose at his ankles. If some other dog in youthful frolic frisked and barked about it, it snarled and snapped, and then cruelled down at his master's feet and looked ashamed. Dempster! Dempster! Getting a bit old, eh? said the man. After a little while he went quietly away. Nobody missed him. Nobody had observed him. He had gone back to the town. At a baker's shop which was still open for the convenience of the departing fleet, he bought a seamen's biscuit. With this he returned to the harbour by way of the shore. At the slip by the rocket-house he went down to the beach and searched among the shingle until he found a stone like a dumbbell, large at the ends and narrow in the middle. Then he went back to the key. The dog followed him and watched him. The last of the boats was out in the bay by this time. She could be seen quite plainly in the moonlight with the green blade of a wave breaking on her quarter. Somebody was carrying a light on her deck and the giant shadow of a man's figure was cast up on the new lug cell. There were shouts and answers across the splashing water. Then a fresh young voice on the boat began to sing Lovely Mona, Fair thee well. The women took it up and the two companies sang it in turns verse by verse. The women on the key and the men on the boat with the sea growing wider between them. An old fisherman on the skirts of the crowd had a little girl on his shoulder. You'll not be going to consale this time, mate, so the voice behind him? Oh, no, sir. I've seen the day, though. Thirty years I was going and better. But I'm done now. Well, that's the way you see. It's the turn of the young ones now. Let them sing, God bless them. We're not going to fret, though, are we? There's one thing we can always do. We can always remember. And that's some constellation, isn't it? I'm doing it red-less at the old fisherman. After all, it's been a good thing to live. And when a man's time comes, it'll not be such a darn bad thing to die in either. Don't you hold with me there, mate? I do, sir. I do. The last boat had rounded the castle rock and its topsoil had diminished and disappeared. On the key the song had ended and the women and children were turning their faces with a shade of sadness towards the town. Well, with a deep universal inspiration, wasn't it beautiful? Wasn't it? Then what are you crying about? The girls laughed at each other with wet eyes and went off with springless steps. The mothers picked up their children and carried them home whimpering. And the old men went away with drooping heads and shambling feet. When all was gone and the harbour master had taken his last look round, the man with the dog went to the end of the empty key and sat on the mooring post that had served for the running of the ropes. All was quiet enough now. The voices, the singing, the laughter were lost. There was no sound but the gurgle of the ebbing tide which was racing out with the river's flow between the pier and the castle rock. The man looked at his dog, stooped to it, gave it the biscuit and petted it and stroked it while it munched its supper. Dempster boch. Dempster. Getting old, eh? Travel far together, haven't we? Tired a bit, aren't you? Couldn't go through another rough journey anyway. Hard to part, though. McCree, McCree. He took the stone out of his pocket, tied it to one end of the string, made a noose on the other end, slipped it about the dog's neck and without warning picked up the dog and stone at once and dropped them over the pier. The old creature gave a piteous cry as it descended. There was a splash and then the racing of the water passed the pier. The man had turned away quickly and was going heavily along the quay. End of Part 6, Chapter 19. Part 6, Chapter 20 of the Manxman. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings were in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Manxman by Sir Hall Cain. Part 6, Chapter 20. It had been a night of pain to Philip. All the world seemed to be conspiring to hold him back from what he had to do. Thou shalt not was the legend that appeared to be written everywhere. Four persons had learnt his secret and all four seemed to call upon him to hide it. First the clerk of the rolls who had heard the divorce proceedings within closed doors. Next Pete who might have clamoured the scandal on all hands and plucked him down from his place but had chosen to be silent and to slip away unseen. Then Caesar whose awful self-deception was an assurance of his secrecy. And finally Aunty Nan whose provision for Kate's material welfare had been intended to prevent the necessity for revelation. All these had seemed to say to him whether from affection or from fear hold your peace say nothing the past is the past it is dead it does not exist go on with your career it is only beginning what right have you to break it up the island looks to you waits for you step forward and be strong thank God it was too late to be moved by that temptation too late to be bought by that bribe already he had taken the irrevocable course he had made the irrevocable step he could not now go back but the awful penalty of the island's undeceiving the pain of that moment when everybody would learn that he had deceived the whole world he was a sham a whited sepulcher every step he had gone up in his quicker scent had been over the body of someone who had loved him too well first Kate who had been the victim of the deemster ship and now Pete who was paying the price that made him governor he could see the darkened looks of the proud he could hear the execration of the disappointed he could feel the tears of the true hearted of the downfall of a life that had looked so fair in the frenzy of that last hour of trial it seemed as if he was contending not with man and the world but with the devil who was using both to make this bitter irony of his position who was bribing him with worldly glory that he might damn his soul forever and therein lay a temptation that sat closer at his side the temptation to turn his face it was midnight the moon was shining on the boundless plane of the sea he was in the slack water of the soul when the airbiz spent before the tide has begun to flow oh to leave everything behind the shame and the glory together it was the moment when the girls on peel-key were pulling the rope for the men on the boats who were ready to vote for Christian the pains of sleep were yet greater he thought he was in castle town skulking under the walls of the castle with a look up towards Parliament House and down to the harbour he fumbled his private key into the lock of the side entrance to the council chamber the old caretaker heard him creep down the long corridor and she came clattering out with a candle shaded behind her hand something I've forgotten he said pardon your honour and then a deep curtsy he opened noiselessly the little door leading from the council chamber to the keep in the dark shadow of the steps the turnkey challenged him who's there? stop hush the deemster beg your honour's pardon show me the female wards this way your honour herself here your honour the key your lantern now go back to the guard room he was with Kate my love my love my darling I cannot face it I thought I could but I cannot I've got the child too come and then Kate I would go anywhere with you Philip anywhere, anywhere I only want your love but is this worthy of a man like you? leave me we have fallen too low to drop into a pit like that away with you go and he slunk out of the cell before the wrathful love that would save him from himself when the governor had slunk out like a dog it was only a dream when he awoke the birds were singing and the day was blue over the sea the temptation was passed it was under his feet he could hesitate no longer his cup was brimming over he would drink it to the dregs Gemma Lord came with his mouth full of the news the town was decorated with bunting there was to be a general holiday in front of the courthouse the people were not going to be deterred by the deemsters' refusals he who shrank from honours was the more worthy of being honoured they intended to present their new governor with an address let them let them said Philip Gemma looked up inquiringly his master's face had a strange expression shall I drive you today your excellency yes my lad it may be for the last time Gemma what was amiss with the governor had the excitement proved too much for him? it was a perfect morning soft and fresh and sweet with the odours and the colours of spring new gorse flash from the hedges the violets peep from the banks over the freshening green of the fields the young lambs sported and the lark sang in the thin blue air the town as they dipped into it was full of life at the turn of the courthouse the crowd was densest a policeman raised his hand in front of the horses and Gemma Lord drew up then the high bailiff stepped to the gate and read an address it mentioned Iron Christian calling him the great deemster the town took pride to itself that the first Manx governor of man was born in Ramsey Philip answered briefly confining himself to an expression of thanks there was great cheering and then the carriage moved on the journey thereafter was one long triumphal passage at Solby Street and at Balor Street there were flags and throngs of people from time to time the passengers joined them falling into line behind the bishop was waiting at bishop's court and place was made for his carriage immediately after the carriage of the governor at Tyndall there was a sweet and beautiful spectacle the children of St. John's were seated on the four rounds of the mount boys and girls in alternate rows and from that spot sacred to the memory of their forefathers for a thousand years they sang the national anthem as Philip passed on the road the unhappy man lay back in his seat his eyes filled, his throat rose over what might have been under Harry Delaney's tree a company of fishermen were waiting with a letter it was from their mates at Kinsale they could not be at home that day but their hearts were there every boat would fly her flag at the mast head and at twelve o'clock noon every Manx fisherman on Irish waters would raise a cheer if the Irishmen asked them what they meant by that they would answer and say it's for the fisherman's friend Governor Philip Christian the unhappy man was no longer in pain his agony was beyond that a sort of divine madness had taken possession of him he was putting the world and the prince of the world behind his back all this worldly glory and human gratitude was but the temptation of Satan with God's help he would not succumb he would resist Gemma Lord twisted on the box seat see your Excellency listen the flags of Castle Town were visible on the eagle tower of the castle then there was a multitudinous murmur finally a great shout now a boys three times three hip hip hurrah at the entrance to the town an evergreen arch had been erected it bore an inscription in Manx Dunya Vannan man of man success as thou deserved the carriage had slacked down to a walk drive quicker cried Philip the streets are crowded your Excellency said Gemma Lord flags were flying from every window from every roof from every lamppost the people ran by the carriage cheering their shout was a deafening uproar Philip could not respond she will hear it he thought his head dropped capturing Kate in her cell with the clamour of his welcome coming muffled through the walls they took the road by the harbour suddenly the carriage stopped the men were taking the horses out of the shafts no no cried Philip he had an impulse to a light but the carriage was moving again in a moment it is the last of my punishment he thought and again fell back then the shouting and the laughter ran along the key with the crackle and roar of a fire a regiment of soldiers the soldiers lined away from the drawbridge to the port Cullis as the carriage drew up they presented arms in royal salute at the same moment the band of the regiment inside the keep played God Save the Queen the high bailiff of the town opened the carriage door and presented an address it welcomed the new governor to the ancient castle wherein his predecessors had been installed and took fresh assurance of devotion to the crown from the circumstance that one of their own countrymen had been thought worthy to represent it no manxman had ever been so honoured in that island before since the days of the new governor's own great kinsman familiarly and affectionately known to all manxmen through two centuries as Ilium Donne Brown William Philip replied in few words the cheering broke out of fresh the band played again and they entered the castle by the long corridor that led to the council chamber in an anti-room the officials were waiting they were all elderly men and old men who had seen long and honourable service but they showed no jealousy the clerk of the rolls received his former pupil with a shout wherein personal pride struggle with respect and affection with humility then the attorney general welcomed him in the name of the bar as head of the duty couture as well as head of the legislature taking joy in the fact that one of their own profession had been elevated to the highest office in the Isle of Man glancing at his descent from an historic manx line at his brief but distinguished career as judge which had revived the best traditions of judicial wisdom and eloquence and finally wishing him long life and strength for the fulfillment of the noble promise of his young and spotless manhood Mr Attorney General said Philip I will not accept your congratulations much as it would rejoice my heart to do so it would only be another grief to me if you were to repent as too soon you may the generous warmth of your reception they were puzzled looks but the sage councillors could not receive the right impression they could only understand the reply in the sense that agreed with their present feelings it is beautiful they whispered when a young man of real gifts is genuinely modest excuse me gentlemen said Philip I must go into my room Parker the Rolls followed him saying ah poor Tom Christian would have been a proud man this day prouder than if the honour had been his own ten thousand thousand times have mercy, have mercy and leave me alone said Philip I didn't mean to offend you Christian said the clerk Philip put one hand affectionately on his shoulder the eyes of the robust just fellow began to blink and he returned to his colleagues there was a confused murmur beyond the father wall it was the room kept for the deemster when he held court in the council chamber one of its two doors communicated with the bench as usual a constable kept this door the man loosened his chain and removed his helmet his head was grey is the courthouse full as Philip the constable put his eye to the eye-hole crowded your excellency keep the passages clear yes your excellency is the clerk of the court present he is your excellency and the jailer downstairs your excellency tell both they will be wanted the constable turned the key of the door and left the room Gemma Lord came puffing and perspiring the ex-governor is coming over by the green sir he'll be here in a moment my wig and gown Gemma said Philip deemsters wig your excellency yes last time you were at sir the last indeed my lad there was a clash of steel outside followed by the beat of drum he's here said Gemma Lord Philip listened the rattling noise came to him through opening doors and reverberating corridors like the trampling of a wave to a man imprisoned in a cave she'll hear it too that thought was with him constantly in his mind's eye he was seeing Kate crouching in the fire seat of the palace room in her prison and covering her ears to deaden the joyous sounds that broke the usual silence of the gloomy walls Gemma Lord was at the eye-hole of the door he's coming onto the bench sir the gentlemen of the council are following him and the courthouse is full of ladies Philip was pacing to and fro like a man in violent agitation at the other side of the wall the confused murmur had risen to a sharp crackle of many voices the constable came back with the clerk of the court and the jailer everything ready your excellency said the clerk of the court the constable turned the key of the door and laid his hand on the knob one moment give me a moment said Philip he was going through the last throes of his temptation something was asking him as if in tones of indignation what right he had to bring people there to make fools of them and something was laughing as if the theatrical device he had chosen for gathering together the people of rank and station and then dismissing them like naughty school children this idea clamoured loud and wild derision telling him that he was posing that he was making a market of his misfortune that he was an actor and that whatever the effect of the scene he was about to perform it was unnecessary and must be contemptible you talk of your shame and humiliation no atonement can wipe it out you came here preting to yourself of blotting out the past no act of man can do so vain, vain an idol as well as vain mere mummery and display and a blow to the dignity of justice under the weight of such torment the thought came to him that he should go through the ceremony after all that he should do as the people expected that he should accept the governorship and then defy the social ostracism of the island by making Kate his wife it's not yet too late said the tempter Philip stopped in his walk and remembered the two letters of yesterday thank god it is too late he said he had spoken the words aloud and the officers in attendance glanced up at him Gemmerlord was behind trembling and biting his lip it was indeed too late for that temptation and then the vanity of it the cruelty and insufficiency of it he had been a servant of the world long enough from this day forth he meant to be its master no matter if all the devils of hell should laugh at him he was going through with his purpose there was only one condition on which he could live in the world that he should renounce it there was only one way of renouncing the world to return its wages and strip off its livery his sin was not only against Kate against Pete it was against the island and the island must set him free Philip approached the door slackened his pace with an air of uncertainty at one step from the constable he stopped he was breathing noisily if the officers had observed him at that moment they must have thought he looked like a man going to execution but the constable gazed before him with a somber expression held his helmet in one hand and the knob of the door and the other now said Philip with a long inspiration there was a flash of faces a waft of perfume a flutter of pocket handkerchiefs and a deafening reverberation Philip was in the courthouse End of Part 6 Chapter 21 Part 6 Chapter 22 of the Manxman This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings were in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Manxman by Sir Hall Cain Part 6 Chapter 22 It was remarked that his face was fearfully worn and that it looked the whiter for the white wig above it and the black gown beneath His large eyes flamed us with fire The sword too keen for the scabbard whispered somebody There was a kind of aloofness in strong men at great moments Nobody approaches them They move onward of themselves and stand or fall alone Everybody in court rose as Philip entered but no one offered his hand Even the ex-governor only bowed from the governor's seat under the canopy Philip took his customary place as deemster He was then at the right of the governor the bishop being on the left Behind the bishop sat the attorney general and behind Philip the clerk of the roles The cheers that had greeted Philip on his entrance ended with the clapping of hands and died off like a wave falling back from the shingle Then he rose and turned to the governor I do not know if you are aware, Your Excellency, that this is deemster's court day The governor smiled and the titter went round the court We will dispense with that, he said We have better business this morning Excuse me, Your Excellency, said Philip I'm still deemster With your leave we will do everything according to rule There was a slight pause a questioning look than a cold answer Of course, if you wish it but your sense of duty The ladies in the galleries had ceased to flutter their fans and the members of the House of Keys were shifting in their seats in the well below The clerk of the deemster's court pushed through to the space beneath the bench There is only one case, Your Honor, he whispered up Speak out, sir, said Philip What case is it? The clerk gave an informal answer It was the case of the young woman who had attempted her life at Ramsay and had been kept at Her Majesty's pleasure How long has she been in prison? Seven weeks, Your Honor Give me the book and I will sign the order for her release The book was handed to the bench Philip signed it, handed it back to the clerk and said with his face to the jailer But keep her until somebody comes to fetch her There had been a cold silence during these proceedings When they were over, the ladies breathed freely You remember the case left her husband a little child Divorce, in some told A worthless person Ah, yes, wasn't she first tried the day the deemster fell ill in court? Men are too tender with such creatures Philip had risen again Your Excellency, I have done the last of my duties as deemster His voice had hoarsened He was a worn and stricken figure The ex-governor's warmth had been somewhat cooled by the unexpected interruption Nevertheless, the pockmark smoothed out of his forehead and he rose with a smile At the same moment the clerk of the roll stepped up and laid two books on the desk before him, a New Testament in a tattered leather binding and the Libber Dura Mentorum The Book of Oaths The regret I feel said the ex-governor and feeling increasingly day by day at the severance of the ties which have bound me to this beautiful island is tempered by the satisfaction I experience that the choice of my successor has fallen upon one whom I know to be a gentleman of powerful intellect and stainless honour He will preserve that autonomous independence which has come down to you from a remote antiquity at the same time that he will uphold the fidelity of a people who have always been loyal to the crown I pray that the blessing of Almighty God may attend his administration and that if the time ever comes when he too shall stand in the position I occupy today he may have recollections as lively of the support and kindness he has met with and regrets as deep as his separation from the little man's nation which he leaves behind Then the governor took the staff of office and gave the signal for rising Everybody rose and now, sir, he said turning to Philip with a smile to do everything, as you say, according to rule let us first take a Majesty's commission of your appointment There was a moment's pause and then Philip said in a cold, clear voice Your Excellency I have no commission the commission which I received I have returned I have therefore no right to be installed as governor also I have resigned my office as deemster and though my resignation has not yet been accepted I am in reality no longer in the service of the state The people looked at the speaker with eyes that were full of the stupefaction of surprise Somebody had risen at the back of the bench It was the clark of the rolls He stretched out his hand as if to touch Philip on the shoulder Then he hesitated and sat down again Gentlemen of the council and of the keys continued Philip You will think you have assembled to see a man take a leap into an abyss more dark than death That is as it may be You have a right to an explanation I am here to make it What I have done has been at the compulsion of conscience I am not worthy of the office I hold still less of the office that is offered me There was a half articulate interruption from behind Philip's chair I do not think old friend that I am dealing in vague self depreciation I should have preferred not to speak more exactly but what must be must be Your Excellency has spoken of my honour Would to God it was so but it is deeply stained with sin He stopped made an effort to begin afresh and stopped again Then in a low tone with measured utterance amid breathless silence he said I have lived a double life Beneath the life that you have seen there has been another God only knows how full of wrongdoing and disgrace and shame It is no part of my duty to involve others in this confession It is enough that my career has been built on falsehood and robbery that I have deceived the woman who loved me with her heart of hearts and robbed the man who would have trusted me with his soul The people began to breathe audibly There was the scraping of a chair behind the speaker The clerk of the rolls had risen His florid face was violently agitated May it please Your Excellency he began faltering and stammering in a husky voice In Your Excellency's knowledge and the knowledge of everyone on the island that his honour has only just risen from a long and serious illness brought on by overwork by too zealous attention to his duties and that in fact that, well, not to blink the plain truth that a sigh of immense relief had passed over the court and the governor grown very pale was nodding in assent but Philip only smiled sadly and shook his head He'd been ill indeed, he said but not from the cause you speak of the just judgment of God has overtaken me The clerk of the rolls sank back into his seat The moment came when I had to sit in judgment on my own sin the moment when she who had lost her honour and trusting to mine stood in the dock before me I who had been the first cause of her misfortunes sat on the bench as her judge She is now in prison and I am here The same law which has punished her failing with infamy has advanced me to power There was an icy quiet in the court such as comes with the first gleam of the dawn by that quick instinct which takes possession of a crowd at great moments the people understood everything the impurity of the character that had seemed so pure the nullity of the life that had seemed so noble When I asked myself what there was left to me to do I could see but one thing it was impossible to go on administering justice being myself unjust and remembering that higher bar before which I too was yet to stand I must cease to be deemster but that was only my protection against the future, not my punishment for the past I could not surrender myself to any earthly court because I was guilty of no crime against earthly law the law cannot take a man into the court of the conscience he must take himself there he stopped again and then said quietly my sentence is this open confession of my sin and renunciation of the worldly advantages which have been bought by the suffering of others it was no longer possible to doubt him he had sinned and he had reaped the reward of his sin those rewards were great and splendid but he had come to renounce them all the dreams of ambition were fulfilled the miracle of life was realized the world was conquered and at his feet yet he was there to give up all the quiet of the court had warmed to a hush of awe he turned to the bench but every face was down then his own eyes fell gentlemen of the council you who have served the island so long and so honorably perhaps you blame me for permitting you to come together for the hearing of this confession but if you knew the temptation I was under to fly away without making it to turn my back on my past to shuffle my fault on to fate to lay the blame on life to persuade myself that I could not have acted differently you would believe it was not lightly and God knows not vainly that I suffered you to come here to see me mount my scaffold he turned back to the body of the court my countrymen and countrywomen you who have been so much more kind to me than my character justified or my conduct merited I say goodbye but not as one who is going away in conquering the impulse to go without confessing I conquered the desire to go at all here where my old life has fallen to ruin my new life must be built up that is the only security it is also the only justice on this island where my fall is known my uprising may come as is most right only with bitter struggle and sorrow but when it comes it will come securely it may be in years in many years but I am willing to wait I am ready to labor and meantime she who was worthy of my highest honor will share my lowest degradation that is the way of all women God love and keep them the exaltation of his tones infected everybody it may be that you think I am to be pitied there have been hours of my life but they have been the hours the dark hours when in the prodigality of your gratitude you have loaded me with distinctions and a shadow has haunted me saying Philip Christian they think you are just judge you are not a just judge they think you are an upright man you are not an upright man do not pity me now when the dark hours are past when the new life has begun when I am listening at length to the voice of my heart in the voice of God his eyes shone his mouth was smiling if you think how narrowly I escaped the danger of letting things go on as they were going of covering up my fault of concealing my true character of living as a sham and dying as a hypocrite you will consider me worthy of envy instead goodbye, goodbye God bless you before anyone appeared to be aware that his voice had ceased the woman from the bench and the deemsters chair stood empty then the people turned and looked into each other's stricken faces they were still standing for nobody had thought of sitting down there was no further speaking that day without a word or a sign the governor descended from his seat and the proceedings came to an end everyone moved towards the door a great price to pay for it though thought the men how he must have loved her after all at that moment the big queen Elizabeth clock of the castle was striking twelve and the fishermen on Irish waters were raising a cheer for their friend at home a loud detonation rang out over the town it was the report of a gun there was another and then a third the shots were from a steamer that was passing the bay Philip remembered it was Pete's last farewell End of Part 6 Chapter 22 Part 6 Chapter 23 of the Manksman this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings were in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Manksman by Sir Hall Cain Part 6 Chapter 23 Half an hour later the keep, the courtyard and the passage to the port colours were filled with an immense crowd ladies thronged the two flights of external steps to the prisoner's chapel and the council chambers men had climbed as high as to the battlements and were looking down over the beetle-browed walls all eyes were on the door to the debtor's side of the prison and a path from it was being kept clear the door opened and Philip and Kate came out there was no other exit and they must have taken it he was holding her firmly by the hand and half leading half drawing her along under the weight of so many eyes her head was held down and she was sure enough to see her face knew that her shame was swallowed up in happiness and her fear in love Philip was like a man transfigured the extreme pallor of his cheeks was gone his step was firm and his face was radiant it was the common remark that never before had he looked so strong so buoyant so noble this was the hour of his triumph not that within the walls this when his sin was confessed when conscience had no power to appall him when the world and the pride of the world were beneath his feet and he was going forth from a prison cell hand in hand with the fallen woman by his side to face the future with their bankrupt lives and she she was sharing his fiery ordeal before her outraged sisters and all the world she was walking with him in the depth of his humiliation at the height of his conquest at the climax of his shame and glory once for a moment she halted and stumbled as if under the hot breath that was beating upon her head but he put his arm about her and in a moment she was strong the sun dipped down from the great tower onto his upturned face and his eyes were glistening through their tears The End The Manxman by Sir Hall Cain The End