 Chapter number 17 of The Ship of Stars This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shashank Jagmola, The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quillar Couch, The Squires Weird He took leave of Menderva and the Joles just before Christmas. The Smith was unaffectedly sorry to lose him. But, said he, the Dain will be entered for the championship next summer. So I suppose I must look forward to that. Everyone in the Jole household gave him a small present on his leaving. Lizzie's was a New Testament with her name on the fly leaf and under it converted April 19, 18... Taffy did not want the gift but took it rather than hurt her feelings. Farmer Joles said, Well, wishy-well. Been pretty comfortable, I hope. Now you're going. I don't mind telling you. I didn't like your coming a bit. But now, this wonderful to me you've been with us less than two years. We've made such friends. At home, Taffy bought a small forge and set it up in the church at the west end of the North Isle. Mr. Raymond, under his direction, had been purchasing the necessary tools for some months past and now the main expense was the cost of coal which pinched them a little. But they managed to keep the fire alight and the work went forward briskly. Save that, he forbade the parish to lend them the least help the old squire had ceased to interfere. Mr. Raymond's hair was grayer and Taffy might have observed how readily towards the close of a day's laborious carpentry he would drop work and turn to Dindorf's Potei, Sinesi, Creisi through which they were reading their way. On Sundays, the congregation rarely numbered a dozen. It seemed that as the end of the vicar's task drew nearer so the prospect of filling the church receded and became more shadowy. And if his was a queer plight, Jackie Piscose was queerer. The bride had continued to come by night and help but had rarer intervals. He was discomforted in mind as anyone could see and at the length he took Mr. Raymond aside and made confession. I must go away, that's what is. My burden is too great for me to bear. Why? said Mr. Raymond, who had grown surprisingly tolerant during the last twelve months, what caused have you, of all men, to feel dejected? You can set the folk here on fire like flax, he sighed. That's exactly the reason. I can set him a fire with a breath, but I can't hold him under. I make him too strong for me, and I'm afraid. Parson, dear, it's the gospel truth. For two years I've been striving age in myself, wrestling upon my knees, and all to hold this parish in. He mopped his face, tests like fighting with beasts at Ephesus. He said, Do you want to hold them in? I do, and I don't. I've got to try anyway. Sometimes I tell myself, test putting a hand to the plow when turning back, and then I reckon I'll go on. But when the time comes I can't. I'm feared, I tell thee. He paused. I've led it before the Lord, but he don't seem to help. There's two voices inside of me. Tests are terrible responsibility. But the people, what are you afraid of their doing? I don't know. You don't know what a runaway horse will do, but you're a feared all the same. He sank his voice. There's wantonness, for one thing. Six left children born in the parish this year, and more coming. They do say that Vashti Clemo destroyed her child, an old man John's. Him they found dead on the rocks under the island. He didn't go there by accident. It was a calm day, too. As often as not, Taffy worked late and blew his forge-fire alone in the church, the tap of his hammer making hollow music in the desolate aisles. He was working this one windy night in February when the door rattled open and invoked a totally unexpected visitor, Harry Vihil. Good evening. I was riding by and saw your light in the windows dancing up and down. I thought I would hitch up the mare and drop in for a chat, but go on with your work. Taffy wondered what had brought him so far from his home at that time of night, but asked no questions. And so Harry placed a hussack on one of the belfry steps and, taking his seat, watched for a while in silence. Long riding boots and an overcoat with the collar turned up about a neck-lot less natally folded than usual. I wish he said at length that my boy George was clever like you. You were great friends once. You remember Plymouth, eh? But I dare say you've not seen much of each other lately. Taffy shook his head. George is a bit wild. Oxford might have done something for him, made a man of him, I mean, but he wouldn't go. I believe in wild oats to a certain extent. I have told him from the first he must look after himself and decide for himself. That's my theory. It makes a youngster self-reliant. He goes and comes as he likes. If he comes home late from hunting, I ask no questions. I don't wait dinner. Don't you agree with me? I don't know, Taffy answered, wondering why he should be consulted. Self-reliance is what a man wants. Couldn't he have learned that at school? Sir Harry fidgeted with the riding-crop in his hand. Well, you see, he's an only son. I dare say it was selfish of me. You don't mind my talking about George. Taffy loved. I like it, but... Sir Harry loved too, in an embatticed way. But you don't suppose I wrote over a deal for that. Well, well, the fact is one gets foolish as one grows old. George went out hunting this morning and didn't turn up for dinner. I kept to my rule and dined alone. Nine o'clock came, half past. No, George. At ten, Hoskins locked up as usual and off I went to bed. But I couldn't sleep. After a while, it struck me that he might be sleeping here over a tread-ness. The incident had happened. No sleep for me until I made sure. So I jumped out, dressed, slipped down to the stables, saddled the mare and drove over. I left the mare by tread-ness great gates and crept down to Moyle's table like a housebreaker, looking in through the window. And sure enough, there was George's gray in the loose box to the right. So George is sleeping there and I'm easy in my mind. No doubt you think me an old fool. But Taffy was not thinking anything of the sort. I couldn't wish better than that. You understand? Not quite. He lost his mother early. He wants a woman to look after him and for him to think about. If he and Anoria would only make up a match, Anne Carthivell would be quite a different house. Taffy hesitated, with a hand on the forged bellows. I daresay it sneers to you, what I'm telling, but it has been in my mind this long while. Why don't you blow up the fire? I bet Miss Anoria has thought of it too. Girls are deep. She has a head on her shoulders. I'll warrant she sends half a dozen of my servants spacking within a week. As it is, they rob me to a steer. I know it, and I haven't the pluck to interfere. What does the old squire says? Taffy managed to ask. It has never come to saying anything. But I believe he thinks of it too, when he happens to think of anything but his soul. He'll be pleased. Everyone will be pleased. The properties touch, you see. I see. To tell you the truth, he's failing fast. This religion of his is a symptom. All of his family have taken to it in the end. If he hadn't the constitution of a horse, he'd have been converted ten years What puzzles me is he's so quiet. You mark my words. Sir Harry Rose buttoned his coat and shook his riding crop prophetically. He's brewing up for something. There'll be the devil of a flare-up before he has done. It came with the mid-summer bonfires. Had nine o'clock on Saint John's Eve, Mr. Raymond read prayers in the church. It was his rule to celebrate thus the vigils of all saints in the English calendar and some few Cornish saints besides, and he regularly announced these services on the preceding Sunday, but no parishioners dreamed of attending them. Tonight, as usual, he and Taffy had prayed alone, and the lad was standing after service at the church door with a surplus on his arm, for he always wore a surplus and read the lessons on these vigils when the flame of the first bonfire caught up from the headland over Inus Village. Almost on the moment, a flame answered it from the point where the lighthouse stood and, within ten minutes, the horizon of the tow-vans was criss-setted with these beacon fires. Surely, thought Taffy with many more than usual, and he remembered that Jackie Pesco had thrown out a hint of a great revival to be held on ball-fire night, as he called it. There was sultry and all but windless, for the tormented sands had rest. The flame of the bonfires shone yellow, orange yellow, and steady. He could see the dark figures of men and women passing between him and the nearest on the high-waist trail in front of Treadnest's great gates. Their voices reached him in a confused murmur, broken now and then by a child's scream of delight, and yet a hush seemed to oversee and land, an expectant hush. For weeks the sky had not rained, day after day, a dull indigo blue possessed it, deepening with night into duller purple, as if the whole heavens were gathering into one big thundercloud which menaced but never broke. And in the hush of those nights a listener could almost fancy as he heard, between vials the rabbits stirring in their burrows. By and by the bonfire on the waste trail appeared to be giving out sparks of light which blazed independently, yet without decreasing its own volume of flame. The sparks came dancing, nearer and larger. The voices grew more distinct. The revelers had kindled torches and were advancing in procession to visit other bonfires. The torches, too, were supposed to bless the fields across. Small blessing had they ever brought to the barren toans. The procession rose and sank as it came over the uneven ridges like a fiery snake, topped the nearest ridge and came pouring down past the churchyard wall. At its head danced Lizzie Pizzac, shrieking like a creature possessed, her hair loose and streaming while she velled her torch. Taffy knew these torches, bundled of canvas, teaped in tar fassen in the middle to a stout stick or piece of chain. Lizzie's was fassen to a chain and as he watched her uplifted arm swinging the blazing mass, he found time to wonder how she escaped setting her hair on fire. Other torch bearers tossed their arms and shouted as they passed. The smoke was suffocating and across the patch of quite graveyard the heat smote on Taffy's face. But in the crowd he saw two figures clearly, Jackie Pascow and Squire Moyle and the bright night's face was agitated and white in the infernal glare. He had given an arm to the Squire, who was clearly the centre of the procession and tottered forward with jaws working and cavernous eyes. He saved. A voice shouted. Others took up the cry. Saved. The Squire saved. Saved tonight. Saved to glory. The Squire paused, still leaning on the bright night's arm. While the procession swayed around him, he cased across the gate as a man who had lost his bearings. No glint of torch light reached his cavernous eyes. But the sight of Mr. Raymond's surprised figure standing behind Taff's shoulder in the full glare seemed to rouse him. He lifted a fist and shook it slowly. Come still on sir. Urged the bright night, but the Squire stood irresolute, muttering to himself. Come still on sir. Leave me be, I tell you. He laid both hands on the gate and spoke across it to Mr. Raymond, his head nodding while his voice rose. Do you hear what they say? I'm saved. I'm the Squire of this parish and I'm going to heaven. I make no account of you and your church. Old Satan's the fellow I'm after and I'm going to have him out of this parish tonight or my name's not Squire Moyle. That's a fat Squire. Hunting, out with him. He turned on the crowd. Hunting? As fair I will. Come along boys, back to treadiness. No, no. This to the bright night. We'll go back. I'll show his boat. We'll hunt the old devil by scent and view tonight. I'm Squire Moyle. Ain't I? And I've back a hounds. Ain't I? It's back. I tell you. Lizzie Pizax won her touch. Back, back to treadiness. The crowd took up the cry. Back to treadiness. The old man shook off the bright night's hand and as the procession veiled and reformed itself confusedly, rushed to the head of it, waving his hand. Back, back to treadiness. God help them, said Mr. Raymond and taking Taffy by the arm, drew him back into the pitch. The shouting died away up the road. For three quarters of an hour, father and son worked in silence. The red in sky shed its glow gently through the clear glass windows, suffusing the shadows beneath the arched roof. And in the silence the lad wondered what was happening up at treadiness. Jim the wick took oath afterward that it was no fault of his. He had suspected three of the rounds for a day or two. Coristor, White Boy and Bellman, and had separated them from the pack. That very evening, he had done the same with the rifler, who was chewing at the straw in a queer fashion and seemed quaddlesome. He had said nothing to the squire, whose temper had been ugly for a week past. He had hoped it was a false alarm, had thought it better to wait, and so on. The squire went down to the kennels with the lantern, Jim shivering behind him. They had their horses saddled outside and ready, and the crowd was waiting along the drive and up by the great gates. The squire saw at a glance that two couples were missing, and in two seconds had their names on his tongue. He was like a madman. He shouted to Jim to open the doors. The old man cursed, smote him across the neck with the butt end of his whip, and unlocked the doors himself. Jim, though half stunned, staggered forward to prevent him, and took another blow, which failed him. He dropped across the threshold of Coristor's kennel. The doors of all opened outwards, and the weight of his body kept this one shut. But he saw the other three hounds run out, and saw the squire turn with a face, drop the lantern, and run for it as White Boy snapped at his boot. Jim heard the crash of the lantern and the snap of teeth, and with that he fainted off in the darkness. He had cut his forehead against the bars of the big kennel, and when he came to himself, one of the hounds was licking his face through the grating. Men told for years after how the old squire came galloping up the drive that night. Moved to belly, his chin almost on mere non-slutched neck, his face like a man's who hears hell cracking behind him, and of the three dusky hounds which followed, the tale said with clapping jaws and eyes like coach lamps. Down in the quiet church Taffy heard the outcry, and laying down his plane looked up and saw that his father had heard it too. Mr. Raymond smiled eyes, shining through his spectacles asked as plainly as words. What was that? Listen! For a minute, two minutes, they heard nothing more. Then, out of the silence broke a rapid, muffled beat of hooves, and Mr. Raymond clutched Taffy's arms as a yell, a cry not human, or if human insane, rip the night as you might rip linen and fetch them to their feet. Taffy gained the porch first, and just at that moment a black shadow heaved itself on the churchyard wall, and came hurling over with a thud, a clatter of dropping stones, then a groan. Before they could grasp what was happening the old squire had extricated himself from the fallen mare and came staggering across the graves. Hide me! He came with both arms outstretched, his face turned sideways. Behind him from the far side of the wall came sounds, horrible shuffling sounds, and in the dusk they saw the head of one of the hounds above the coping and his forepaws clinging as he strained to heave himself over. Off! Keep enough! They caught him by both hands, dragged him within and slammed the door. Hide me! Hide! The words ended with a thud as he pitched headlong on the slate pavement. Through the barred door, the scream of the mare, non-search answered it. End of chapter number 17 Chapter number 18 of The Ship of Stars This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Shashank Jagmola. The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quillar Couch The Barriers Fall There were marks of teeth on his right boot, but no marks at all on his body. Fright or fright before on that evening's frenzy had killed him. He was buried three days later and Mr. Raymond read the service. No rain had fallen and the blood of the three hounds still stained the gravel dividing the grave from the porch where the crowd had shot them down. For a while his death made small difference to the family at the personage. They had fought his enmity and proved it not formidable for brave hearts. But they had scarcely realized their success and wondered why his death did not affect them more. About this time Taffy began to carry a scheme which he and his father had often discussed but hitherto had found no leisure for the setting up of wooden crosses on the graves around Sailor-men. They had wished for slate, but good slate was expensive and hard to come by and Taffy had no skill in stone cutting. Since word it must be, he resolved to put his best work into it. The names etc. should be engraved not painted merely. Some of the pew fronts in the church had panels elaborately carved in flat and shallow relief, fine Jacobian designs, all of them. He took careful rubbings of the traceries and said to work to copy them on the face of his crosses. One afternoon some three weeks after the squire's funeral, he happened to return to the house for a tracing which he had forgotten and found Onoria seated in the kitchen and talking with his father and mother. She was dressed in black, of course, and either this or the solemnity of her visit gave her quite a grown-up look. But to be sure, she was a mistress of Treadiness now and a child no longer. Taffy guessed the meaning of her visit at once and no doubt this act of former reconciliation between Treadiness's house and the personage had cost her some nervousness. As Taffy entered, his parents stood up and seemed just as awkward as the visitor. Another time, perhaps, he heard his father say Onoria rose almost at once and would not stay to drink tea though humility impressed her. I suppose, said Taffy next day looking up from his virginal, I suppose Mr. Onoria wants to make friends now and help on their restoration. Mr. Raymond, who was on his knees fastening a loose hinge in a pew door, took a screw from between his lips. Yes, she proposed that. It must be splendid for you, Dad. I don't quite see. Answered Mr. Raymond with his head well inside the pew. Taffy stood up, put his hands in his pockets and took a turn up and down the aisle. Why? said he coming to a halt. It means that you have won. It's victory, Dad, and I call it glorious. His lips trembled. He wanted to put a hand on his father's shoulder, but his abominable shyness stood between. We won a long ago, my boy. And Mr. Raymond wheeled round on his knees, pushed up his spectacles and coated the famous lines very solemnly and slowly. And not biased in windows only, when daylight comes, comes in the light. In front the sun climbs low, how slowly. But westward, look, the land is bright. I see, Taffy nodded, and I say, that's Charlie. Who wrote it? A man I used to see in the streets of Oxford and always learned to stare after. A man with big, ugly-shaped feet and the face of a god, a young tormented god. Those were the days when young men's thoughts tormented them. Taffy, he asked abruptly, should you like to go to Oxford? Don't, Father. The boy bit his lips to keep back the tears. Talk of something else, something cheerful. It has been a splendid fight, just splendid, and now it's over. I'm almost sorry. What is over? Well, I suppose, now that Honoria wants to help, we can hire worksmen and have the whole job finished in a month or two at farthest and you Mr. Raymond stood up and, leaning against a bench and examined the thread of the screw between his fingers. That is one way of looking at it, no doubt. He said slowly, and I hope God will forgive me if I have put my own pride before his service. But a man desires to leave some completed work behind him, something to which people may point and say, he did it. There was my book, now, for years I thought that was to be my work. But God thought otherwise hand, to correct my pride perhaps, chose this task instead. To set a small forsaken country church in order and make it worthy of his presence. That is not the mission I should have chosen. But so be it, I have accepted it. Only to let others step in at the last and finish even this, I say he must forgive me, but I cannot. Your book, you can go back to it and finish it. I have burnt it. Dad! I burnt it. I had to. It was a temptation to me, and until I lifted it from the grate and the flakes crumbled in my hands, the surrender was not complete. Taffy felt a sudden gush of pity, and as he pitied suddenly he understood his father. It had to be complete. Either the book or the surrender, my boy. And in his voice there echoed the aspiration and the despair of the true scholar who abhors imperfection and incompleteness in a world where nothing is either perfect or complete. It is different with you. I borrowed you, so to say, for the time. Without you I must have failed, but this was never your work. For myself I have learned my lessons, but, please God, you shall be my Solomon and be granted a temple to build. Taffy had lost his shiners now. He laid a hand on his father's sleeve. We will go on then. Yes, we will go on. And Jackie? Where has he been? I haven't seen him since the square died. Mr. Raymond searched in his coat pocket and handed over a crumpled letter. It ran, dear friend, this is to say that you will not see me no more. The dear Lord tells me that I have made a coach of it. He don't say how. All he says is go and do better somewhere sells. Seems to me a terrible thing to think religion can be bad for any man. It have done me such powers of good. The late Moyal-esque he was like a dirty pan all the milk turned sour no matter what. Dear friend, I poured praise into him and it come out prayer and all for himself. But the dear Lord says I was to blame as much as Moyal so must do better next time, but feel terrible timid. My respects to Master Taffy. Dear friend, I done my best. I come like Nicodemus by night. Seeming to me when Christians fall out, this over what they pray for. When they praise God, forget differences and I can't think where the quarrelling comes in and so no more at present from. Yours respectfully, Jay Pascoe. After supper that night in the personage kitchen, humility kept rising from her chair and laying her needle work aside to rearrange the pans and kettles on the earth. This restlessness was so unusual that Taffy, seated in the ingle with a book on his knee, had half raised his head to twit her when he felt a hand laid softly on his hair and looked up into his mother's eyes. Taffy, should you like to go to Oxford? Don't, mother. But you can. The tears in her eyes answered his at once. She turned to his father. Tell him. Yes, my boy, you can go. Said Mr. Raymond. That is, if you can win a scholarship. Your mother and I have been talking it over. But Taffy began and could get no further. We have money enough, with care. Said Mr. Raymond. But the boy's eyes were on his mother. Her cheeks, usually so pale, were flushed. But she turned her face away and walked slowly back to her chair. The lacework he heard her say, I have been saving from the beginning. For this, he followed and took her hand. With the other she covered her eyes, but nodded. Oh, mother, mother! He knelt and let his brow drop on her lap. She ceased to weep. Her palms rested on his bowed head. But now and then her body shook. And, but for the ticking of the tall clock, there was silence in the room. It was wonderful. And the wonder of it grew when they recovered themselves and fell to discussing their plans. In spite of his idolatry, Mr. Raymond could not help remembering certain slides which he, a Boormiller's son, had undergone at Christ's church. He had chosen MacDallan, which Taffy knew to be the most beautiful of all the colleges. And the news that his name had been entered on the college books for years past gave him a delicious shock. It was he would matriculate in the October term and in January enter for a daymishap. But the marvels followed so fast on each other's heels there would be an examination held in ten days time. Actually, in ten days time. A certificate examination Mr. Raymond called it, which would excuse the boy not only the ordinary matriculation test but responsions too. And, in short, Taffy was to pack his box and go. But the subjects you have been reading them and the prescribed books for four months past and I have had sets of the old prayers by me for a guide. Your mathematics are shaky but I think you should do well enough. It was now humility's turn and the discussion plunged among shirts and collars. Never had evening been so happy and whether they talked of mathematics or of collars Taffy could not help observing how from time to time his father's and mother's eyes would meet and say as plainly as words we have done rightly. Yes, we have done rightly. And the wonder of it remain next morning when he awoke to a changed world and took down his books with a new purpose. Already his box had been carried into old Mrs. Wenning's room and his mother and grandmother were busy, the one packing and repacking the others making a new and important suggestion every minute. He was to go up alone and to lodge in Trinity College where an old friend of Mr. Raymond's, a resident fellow just then abroad and spending his long vacation in the Tyrol had placed his own room at the boy's service. To see Oxford to be lodging in college he had to hug his mother in the midst of her packing. You will be going by the great woman," she said. You won't be seeing Honiton on your way. When the great morning came Mr. Raymond travelled with him in the van of Trudeau to see him off. Humility went upstairs to her mother's room and the two women prayed together. They also serve who only stands and wait. End of chapter number 18 Chapter number 19 of The Ship of Stars This is early Breux recording. LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Sheshank Jagmola The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quiller Couch Oxford Know you her secret, none can utter hers of the book, The Tripled Crown. 8 o'clock sir Taffy heard the voice speaking above a noise which his dreams confused with the rattle of yesterday's journey. He was still in the train, rushing through the rich levels of Somerset Shear. He saw the broad horizon, the Cadillac pasture, the bridges and flagged pools flying past the window and sat up rubbing his eyes. Blankarin, the scout stood between him and the morning sunshine emptying a can of water into the tub beside his bed. Blankarin wore a white waistcoat and a tie of orange and blue, the colours of the college seven's cricket club. These were signs of the long vacation. For the rest his presence would have become an arc deacon and he guided Taffy's choice of a breakfast with an air which suggested the hand of iron beneath the glove of velvet. In begging your pardon sir, but will you be launching in? Taffy would consult Mr. Blankarin's convenience. The fact is, sir, we've arranged to play Teddy all this afternoon at Cowley and the drag stars at 1.30 sharp. Then I'll get my lunch out of college," said Taffy, wondering who Teddy Hall might be. I thank you, sir. I had, indeed, took the liberty of telling the Mansiple that you was not a gentleman to give more trouble than you could help. Fried soul, pot of tea, toast, pot of blackberry jam, commons of bread, Mr. Blankarin disappeared. Taffy sprang out of bread and ran to the open window in the next room. The gardens lay below him. Smooth turf flanked with a border of gay flowers flanked on the other side with use and beyond the use with an avenue of limes and beyond these with tall m's. A straight graveled walk divided the turf. At the end of it, two years of magnificent spread guarded a great iron gate. Beyond these the chimneys and battlements of Wadham College stood gray against the pale eastern sky, and over them the larks were singing. So this was Oxford, more beautiful than all his dreams. And since his examination would not begin until tomorrow, he had a whole long day to make acquaintance with her. Half a dozen times he had to interrupt his dressing to run in gaze out of the window skipping back when he heard Blankarin's tread on the staircase and at breakfast again he must jump up and examine the door. Yes, there was a second door outside, a heavy oak, just as his father had described. What stories had he heard about these oaks? He was handling this one almost idolaterously when Blankarin appeared suddenly at the head of the stairs. Blankarin was good enough to explain at some length how the door worked, while Taffy who did not need his instruction in the least blushed to the roots of his hair. For, indeed, it was like first love. This adoration of Oxford, shame fast, shy of its own ruptures, so shy, indeed, that when he put on his hat and walked out into the streets, he could not pluck up courage to ask his way. Some of the colleges he recognized from his father's description of one or two he discovered the names by peeping through their gateways and reading the notices pinned up by the porter's lodges, for it never occurred to him that he was free to step inside and ramble through the quadrangles. He wondered where the river lay and where MacDallan and where Christ Church. He passed along the Turle and down Brassanol's Lane, and, at the foot of it, beyond the great Chestnut tree leaning over Exeter Wall, the vision of Noble Square, the dome of Radcliffe and St. Mary's Pire caught his breath and held him gasping. His feet took him by the gate of Brysonos and across the high. On the father pavement he halted, round eyed, held at gaze by the beauty of the virgin's porch, with the creeper drooping like a veil over its twisted pillars. High up, white pigeons veiled around the spire or fluttered from niche to niche, and a queer fancy took him that they were the souls of the carved saints up there, talking to one another above the city's traffic. At length he withdrew his eyes and, reading the name, Oriel Street, on an angle of the wall above him, passed down an arrow by Lane in search of further wonders. The clocks were striking three when, after regaining the high and launching at a pastry cook's, Taffy turned down into St. Aldates and recognized Tom Tower ahead of him. The great gates were closed. Through the open wicket he had a glimpse of Green Turf and an idle fountain, and while he peered in, a jolly looking porter stepped out of the lodge for a breath of air and nodded in the friendliest manner. You can walk through if you want to. Were you looking for anyone? No, said Taffy, and explained proudly, my father used to be at Christchurch. The boat received interest. What name? He asked. Raymond. That must have been before my time. I suppose you'll be wanting to see the cathedral. That's the door. Right opposite. Taffy thanked him and walked across the great empty quadrangle. Within the cathedral, the organ was sounding and pausing, and from time to time, a boy's voice broken upon the music like a flute, the pure treble rising to the roof as though it were the very voice of the building and every pillar sustained its petition. Lord, have mercy upon us and incline our hearts to keep this law. Neither organist nor choristers was visible, and Taffy tiptoed along the aisles in dread of disturbing them. For the moment, this voice adoring in the noble building expressed to him the completest, the most perfect thing in life. All his own boyish handiwork, remember, under his father's eyes had been guided toward the worship of God. And incline our hearts to keep this law. The music seized. He heard the organist speaking, up in the loft, criticizing, no doubt, and it reminded him somehow of the small sounds of home and his mother moving about her housework in the hush between breakfast and noon. He stepped out into the sunlight again and, wandering through the archway, an cloister found himself at length beyond the college walls and at the junction of two avenues of alms between the trunks of which shown the acres of our noble meadow level and green. The avenues ran at a right angle, east and south, the one old with trees of magnificent girth, the other new and intersect with poplars. Taffy stood irresolute. One of these avenues, he felt sure, must lead to the river. But which? Two old gentlemen stepped out from the wicket of the meadow buildings and passed him, talking together. The taller, a lean man with a stoop, was clearly a clergyman. The other wore a cap and gown and Taffy remarked as he went by that his cap was of velvet and also that he walked with his arms crossed just above the wrists, his right hand clutching his left cuff and his left hand his right cuff, his elbows hugged close to his sides. After a few paces the clergyman paused, said something to his companion and the two turned back towards the boy. Were you wanting to know your way? I was looking for the river, Taffy answered. He was thinking that he had never in his life seen a face so full of goodness. Then this is your first visit to Oxford. Suppose now you come with us and we will take you by the river and tell you the names of the barges. There is just to see I'm afraid in vacation time. He glanced at his companion in the velvet cap who drew down an extraordinary bushy pair of eyebrows. Yet he too had a beautiful face and seemed to come out of a dream. So much the better boy if you come up to Oxford to worship false gods. Taffy was taken aback. Eight false gods in little blue caps seated in a trow and tugging at eight poles and all to discover if they can get from Putney to Mort Lake sooner than eight others in a little blue caps of a lighter shade. What do they do at Mort Lake when they get there in such a hurry? Hey boy. I'm sure I don't know. Stammer Taffy. The clergyman broke out laughing and turned to him. Are you going to tell us your name? Raymond Sir. My father used to be at Christ's church. What? Are you Sam Raymond's son? You knew my father? Very little. I was a senior by a year or two but I know something about him. He turned to the other. Let me introduce the son of a man after your own heart. Of a man fighting for God in the vials and building an altar there with his own hands and by the lamp of sacrifice. But how do you know all this? Cry Taffy. Oh. The old clergyman smiled. We are not so ignorant up here as you suppose. They walked by the river bank and there Taffy saw the college barges and bestowed the name of each. Also he saw a racing aid go by. It belonged to the vacation driving club. From the barges they turned aside and followed the windings of Sherwell. The clergyman did most of the talking but now and then the men in the velvet cap interposed a question about the church at home, its architecture, the materials it was built of and so forth or about Taffy's own work, his carpentry, his apprenticeship with Menderwa the smith and to all these questions the boy found himself replying with an ease which astonished him. Suddenly the old clergyman said there is your college and unperceived by Taffy a pair of kindly eyes watched his own as they met the first vision of that lovely tower rising above the trees and so like a thing of life it seemed lifting its pinnacles exultantly into the blue heaven. Well, all three had come to a halt. The boy turned, blushing furiously. This is the best of all sir. Boy! said all velvet cap. Do you know the meaning of edification? There stands your lesson for four years to come, if you can learn it in that time. Do you think it is easy? Come and see how it has been learned by men who have spent their lives face to face with it. They crossed the street by Magill Dale in Bridge and passed under Pugin's gateway by the chapel door and into the famous Cloisters. All was quite here. So quite that even the voices seemed but a part of the silence. The shadow of the great tower fell across the grass. This is how one generation read the lesson. Come and see how another and later read it. A narrow passage led them out of gloom into sudden sunlight and the sunlight spread itself on a fair grass plots and graveled walks, flower beds and the pale yellow facade of a block of buildings in the classical style stately and elegant with a colonnade which only needed a few promenading figures in laced coats and tie wigs to complete the agreeable picture. What do you make of that? As a matter of fact, Taffy's thought had run back to the theater at Plymouth with its sudden changes of scenery and he stood for a moment while he collected them. It's different, I mean he added, feeling that this was intolerably lame. It means something different. I cannot tell what. It means the difference between godly fear and civilise between a house of prayer and one of no prayer. It spells the moral change which came over this university and religion, the spring and source of collegiate life was discarded. The cloister behind you were built for men who walked with God. But why? Objected Taffy, plucking up courage, couldn't they in the sunlight? Velvet Cap opened his mouth. The boy felt he was going to be denounced when a merry love from the old clergyman averted the storm. Be content, he said to his companion, we are gothic enough in Oxford nowadays and the lad is right too. There was hope even for 18th century MacDallin while its buildings looked on sunlight and on that tower. You and the rest of us lay too much stress on prayer. The lesson of that tower with all deference to your amazing discernment and equally amazing whims is not prayer but praise. And when all men unite to worship God, it will be praise not prayer that brings them together. Praise is devotion fit for noble minds. The differing worlds agreeing sacrifice. Oh, if you're going to fling quotations from a tapster's son at my head, let me see how does it go on where something or other different fates where heaven divided fates united finds and in a moment the pair were in hot pursuit after the quotation, tripping each other up like two school boys at a game. Taffy never forgot the final stanza, the last line of which they recovered exactly in the middle of the street. Velvet kept standing between the two tram lines right in the path of an advancing car while he declaimed, by penitence when we ourselves forsake tis but in wise design on pts heaven in praise the gesture was magnificent in praise we nobly give what God may take and are without a beggar's blush forgiven confound these trams the old clergyman shook hands with Taffy in some haste and when you reach home give my respects to your father stay you don't know my name my god or you'll forget it mine too said velvet cap. Taffy stood staring after them as they walked off down the lane which skirts the botanical gardens. The names on the two cards were famous ones as even he knew he walked back to word trinity a proud and happy boy. Halfway up queens lane finding himself between blank walls with nobody in sight he even skipped end of chapter 19 chapter number 20 of the ship of stars this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Shashank Jagmola the ship of stars by Arthur Quillar Couch Taffy gives a promise the postman halted by the footbridge by his horn. The sound said the rabbits scampering into their burrows and just as they began to pop out again Taffy came charging across the slope whereupon they drew back their noses and disgust and to avoid the sand scattered by his toes the postman held up a blue envelope and waved it here tis come at last it may not be good news said Taffy clutching it and then turning it over in his hand well that's true until you open it it won't be any news at all I wanted mother to be first to know oh very well only as you say it mightn't be a good news if it's bad news I want to be alone but why should they trouble to write true again I suppose now you're sure it is from them I can tell by the seal take it home then he said the postman only if you think tis for the sake of a twiddling 16 shelling a week that I tribes all these moths every day Taffy fingered the seal if you would really like to know don't you mention it not in any account he waved his hand magnanimously and trudged off toward readiness Taffy waited until he disappeared behind the first sand hill and broke the seal only inside the envelope this is to certify he had passed he pulled off his cap and waved it around his head and once more the rabbits popped back into their burrows toot toot toot it was that diabolical postman he had fetched a circuit round the sand hill and was peeping round the north side of it and grinning as he blew his horn Taffy set off running and never stopped until he reached and burst into the kitchen mother it's all right I've passed somebody was knocking at the door Taffy jumped up from his knees and humility made the lap of her apron smooth may I come in asked Anoria and pushed the door open she stepped into the middle of the kitchen and dropped Taffy an elaborate courtesy a thousand congratulations sir why how did you know well I met the postman and I looked in through the window before knocking Taffy bit his lip people seemed to be taking a deal of interest in us all of a sudden he said to his mother humility looked distressed uncomfortable Anoria ignored the snub I am starting for Carvith Hill today she said for a week's visit and thought I would look in after hearing what the postman told me and pay my compliments for a minute or two on matters of no importance asked after old Mrs. Vennings held and left turning at the door and giving humility a cheerful little nod Taffy you ought not to have spoken so humility's eyes were tearful Taffy's conscience was already accusing him he snatched up his cap and ran out Miss Anoria she did not turn Miss Anoria I am sorry he overtook her and turned her face away forgive me she halted and after a moment looked him in the eyes he saw then that she had been crying the first time I came to see you he ripped me she said slowly I am sorry indeed I am Taffy Miss Anoria I said Taffy Anoria then do you know what it is to feel lonely here Taffy had roamed the sand hills longing for George's company why yes said he it used to be always lonely I think we have been the loneliest children in the whole world you and I and George only George didn't feel it the same way and now it's coming to an end with you you are going up to Oxford and soon you will have heaps of friends can you not understand suppose there were two prisoners alone in the same prison but shut in different cells and one heard that the other's release had come he would feel would he not that now he was going to be lonelier than ever and yet he might be glad of the other's liberty and if the chances were given might be the happier for shaking hands with the other and wishing him joy Taffy had never heard her speak at all like this but you are going to Carvithill and George is famous company I am going over to Carvithill because I hate treadiness I hate every stone of it and will sell the place as soon as I ever come of age and George is the best fellow in the world someday I shall marry him oh it is all arranged and we shall live at Carvithill and be quite happy for I like him and he likes people to be happy and we shall talk of you being out of the world ourselves we shall talk of you the great things you are going to do and the great things you are doing we shall say to each other it's all very well for the world to be proud of him but we have the best right for we grew up with him and know the stories he used to tell us and when the time came for his going it was we who waved from the door Honoria but there is one thing you haven't told and you shall know if you care to about your examination and what you did at Oxford on a sand hill and told her about the long low sealed room in the quadrangle of the Baldian the old marbles which lined the walls the examiner at the blue base table and the little deal tables all scribbled over with names and dates and verses and ribald remarks at which the candidates wrote also of the Viva Voki examination in the anti-chamber of the Convocation House he told it all as if it were the great event he honestly felt it to be and the others said she those who were writing around you and the examiner how did you feel towards them Daffy stared at her I don't know that I thought much about them didn't you feel as if it was a battle and you wanted to beat them all he broke out laughing why the examiner was an old man as dry as a stick and I hardly remember what the others were like except one a white-headed boy with a pimply face I couldn't help noticing him because whenever I looked up there he was at the next table staring at me and chewing a quill I can't understand she confessed often and often I've tried to think myself a man a man with ambition and to me that has always meant fighting I see myself a man and the people between me and the prize have all to be knocked down or pushed out of the way but you don't even see them all you see is a pimply face boy sucking a quill Daffy yes I wish you would write to me when you get to Oxford write regularly tell me all you do you would like to hear of course I shall so will George but it's not only that you have such an easy way of going forward you take it for granted you're going to be a great man I don't you do you think it just lies with yourself and it is nobody's business to interfere with you you don't even notice those who are on the same path now a woman would notice everyone and find out all about them who said I wanted to be a great man don't be silly that's a good boy there is your father coming out of the church porch and you haven't told him yet run to him but promise first what that you will write I promise end of chapter number 20 chapter 21 of The Ship of Stars this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Rebecca Grace The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quiller Couch chapter 21 Honoria's Letters 1. Car with You October 25th, 18 My Dear Taffy your letter was full of news and I read it over twice once to myself and again after dinner to George and Sir Harry we pictured you dining in the college hall thanks to your description it was not very difficult the long tables, the silver tankards the dark panels and the dark pictures above and the dawns on the dais aloof and very sedate it reminded me of Ivanhoe I don't know why and no doubt if I ever see Magdalene it will not be like my fancy in the least but that's how I see it and you at a table near the bottom of the hall like the youthful squire in the story books the one you know who sits at the feast below the salt until he is recognized and forced to step up and take his seat with honor at the high table I began to explain all this to George but found that he had dropped asleep in his chair he was tired out after a long day with the pheasants I shall stay here for a week or two yet perhaps you know how I hate treadiness on my way over I called at the personage and saw your mother she was writing that very day she said and promised to send my remembrances which I hope duly reached you the vicar was away at the church of course there is great talk of the bishop coming in February when all will be ready George sends his love I saw him for a few minutes at breakfast this morning before he started for another day with the pheasants your friend Anoria 2. Carwithiel November 19th 18 my dear taffy still here you see I am slipping this into a parcel containing a fire screen which I have worked with my very own hands and I trust you will be able to recognize the shield upon it and the Magdalene lilies I send it first as a birthday present and I chose the shield well I dare say that going in for a demyship is a matter of fact affair to you who have grown so exceedingly matter of fact but to me it seems a tremendous adventure and so I chose a shield for I suppose the dawns would frown if you wore a caucade in your college cap I return to Tredonis tomorrow so your news whatever it is must be addressed to me there but it is safe to be good news your friend Anoria 3. Tredonis November 27th 18 most honored scholar behold me an hour ago a great lady seated in lonely grandeur at the head of my own ancestral table this is the first time I've used the dining room usually I take all my meals in the morning room at a small table beside the fire but tonight I had the great table spread and the plate spread out and wore my best gown and solemnly took my grandfather's chair and glowered at the ghost of a small girl shivering at the far end of the long white cloth when I had enough of this which was pretty soon I ordered up some champagne and drank to the health of theophilus John Raymond Demi of Magdalen College Oxford I graciously poured out a second glass for the small ghost at the other end of the table and it gave her the courage to confess that she too in a timid way had taken an interest in you for years and hoped you were going to be a great man having thus discovered a bond between us we grew very friendly and we talked a great deal about you afterwards in the drawing room where I lost her for a few minutes and found her hiding in the great mirror over the fireplace a habit of hers it is time for me to practice ceremony for it seems that George and I are to be married sometime in the spring for my part I think my lord would be content to wait longer for so long as he is happy with these others cheerful he is not one to hurry or worry but Sir Harry is the impatient one and has begun to talk of his decease he doesn't believe in it a bit and at times when he composes his features and attempts to be lugaborious I have to take up a book and hide my smiles but he is clever enough to see that it worries George I saw both your father and mother this morning Mr. Raymond has been kept to the house by a chill nothing serious but he is fretting to be out again and at work in that drowdy church he will accept no help and the mistress of Treadonness has no right to press it on him I shall never understand men and how they fight I suppose that war lay between him and my grandfather but it seems he was fighting an idea all the while for here is my grandfather beaten and dead and gone he has not assured me that your demyship means 80 pounds a year I could believe that men fight for shadows only your mother and grandmother are both well it was a raw December afternoon within a week of the end of term and Taffy had returned from skating in Christchurch Meadow when he found a telegram lying on his table there was just time to see the dean to pack and to snatch a meal and haul before rattling off to his train at Didcot he had the best part of an hour to wait for the night mail westward your father dangerously ill come at once there was no signature yet Taffy knew who had ridden to the office with that telegram the flying dark held visions of her and the express throbbed westward to the beat of Ida Camp's Gallop nor was he as surprised at all to find her on the platform at Truro Station the Treadonness faton was waiting outside he seemed to her but a boy after all as he stepped out of the train in the chilled dawn a wan-faced boy and sorely in need of comfort you must be brave she said, gathering up the reins as he climbed to the seat beside her surely yes he had been telling himself this very thing all night the groom hoisted in his port Manot and with a slam of the door they were off the cold air sang past Taffy's ears it put vigor into him and his courage rose as he faced his shattered prospects shattered dreams he must be strong now for his mother's sake a man to work and be lent upon and so it was that whereas on Aurea had found him a boy humility found him a man as her arms went about him in her grief she felt his body that it was taller broader and knew in the midst of her tears that it was not the child she had parted from seven short weeks ago but a man to act and give orders and be relied upon he called for you many times was all she could say for Taffy had come too late Mr. Raymond was dead he had aggravated a slight chill by going back to his work too soon and the bitter droughts of the church cut him down within sight of his goal before he might have been less impatient the chill struck into his lungs on December 1st he had taken to his bed and he never rallied he called for me many times they went up the stairs together and stood beside the bed the thought uppermost in Taffy's mind was he called for me he wanted me he was my father and I never knew him I hoped amid such questions as these what has happened who am I am I she who yesterday had a husband and a child today my husband is gone and my child is no longer the same child in her room old Mrs. Venning remembered the first days of her own widowhood and life seemed to be a very short affair after all Honoria saw Taffy beside the grave it was no season for out-of-door flowers and she had rifled her hot houses for a wreath the exotics shivered in the northwesterly wind they looked meaningless impertinent in the gusty churchyard humility before the coffin left the house had brought the dead man's old blue working blouse and spread it for a pawl no flowers grew in the parsonage garden but pressed in her bible lay a very little bunch gathered years ago in the meadows by Honiton this she divided and unseen by anyone pinned the half upon the breast of the patched garment in the evening after the funeral and for the next day or two she was strangely quiet and seemed to be waiting for Taffy to make some sign dearly as mother and son loved one another they had to find their new positions each toward each now Taffy had known nothing of his parents' income he assumed that it was little enough and that he must now leave Oxford and work to support the household he knew some Latin and Greek but without a degree he had little chance of teaching what he knew he was a fair carpenter and a more than passable smith he revolved many schemes but chiefly found himself wondering what it would cost to enter an architect's office I suppose he said father left no will oh yes he did and produced it a single sheet of fool's cap signed on her wedding day it gave her all her husband's property absolutely whatever it might be well said Taffy I'm glad I suppose there's enough for you to rent a small cottage while I look about for work who talks about you finding work you will go back to Oxford of course oh shall I come back certainly it was your father's wish but the money with your scholarship there's enough to keep you there for four years after that no doubt you will be earning a good income but he remembered what had been said about the lace money and could not help wondering Taffy said his mother touching his hand leave all this to me until your degree is taken you have a race to run and must not start unprepared if you could have seen his joy when the news came of the dummy ship Taffy kissed her and went up to his room he found his books laid out on the little table there four Treadiness February 13 18 my dear Taffy I have a valentine for you if you care to accept it but I don't suppose you will but indeed I hope in my heart that you will not but I must offer it your father's living is vacant and my trustees that is to say Sir Harry for the other a second cousin of mine who lives in London never interferes can put in someone as a stop gap thus allowing me to present you to it when the time comes if you have any thought of holy orders you will understand exactly why I offer it I hope you will know that I think it wholly unworthy of you but turn it over in your mind and give me your answer George and I are to be married at the end of April May is an unlucky month it shall be a week even a fortnight earlier if that fits in with your vacation and you care to come see how obliging I am I yield to you what I have refused to Sir Harry we shall try to persuade the bishop in the church on the same day always your friend Honoria Tretinas February 21 18 my dear taffy no I am not offended in the least but very glad I do not think you are fitted for the priesthood but my doubts have nothing to do with your doubts which I don't understand though you tried to explain them so carefully you will come through them I expect I don't know that I have any reasons that could be put on paper only somehow I cannot see you in a black coat and clerical hat you complain that I never write about George you don't deserve to hear since you refuse to come to our wedding but would you talk if you happen to be in love there I have told you more than I ever told George whose conceit has to be kept down let this console you our new parson when he comes is to lodge down in his village your mother but no doubt she has told you stays in the parsonage while she pleases she and your grandmother are both well I see her every day I have so much to learn and she is so wise her beautiful eyes but oh taffy it must be terrible to be a widow she smiles and is always cheerful but the look in them how can I describe it when I find her alone with her lace work or sometimes but it is not often with her hands in her lap she seems to come out of her silence with an effort as others withdraw themselves from talk I wonder if she does talk in those silences of hers another thing it is only a few weeks now since she put on a widow's cap and yet I cannot remember her can scarcely picture her without it I am sure that if I happen to call one day when she had laid it aside I should begin to talk quite as if we were strangers believe me yours sincerely Honoria but the wedding after all did not take place until the beginning of October a week before the close of the long vacation and taffy after all was present the postponement had been enforced by many delays in building and furnishing the new wing at car with you for Sir Harry insisted that the young couple must live under one roof with him and Honoria as we know hated the very stones of treadiness the bishop came to spend a week in the neighborhood the first three days as Honoria's guest on the Saturday he concentrated the work of the restoration in the church and in the afternoon held a confirmation service taffy and Honoria to receive his blessing it was the girl's wish the shadow of her responsibility to God and man lay heavy on her during the few months before her marriage and taffy already weary and dispirited with his early doubting suffered her mood of exaltation to overcome him like a wave and sweep him back to rest for a while on the still waters of faith together they listened while the bishop discoursed on the dead vicar's labors with fluency and feeling with so much feeling indeed that taffy could not help wondering why his father had been left to fight the battle alone on the Sunday and Monday two near parishes claimed the bishop on the Tuesday he sent his luggage over to car with you whether he was to follow after the wedding service to spend a day or two with Sir Harry it had been Honoria's wish that George should choose taffy for his best man but George had already invited one of his sporting friends young squire Phil Potts from the eastern side of the duchy and as the date fell at the beginning of the hunting season he insisted on a pink wedding Honoria consulted the bishop by letter did he approve of a pink wedding so soon after the bride's confirmation the bishop saw no harm in it so a pink wedding it was and the scarlet coats made a lively patch of color in the gray churchyard but it gave taffy a feeling that he was left out in the cold he escorted his mother to the church and left her for a few minutes in the vicarage pew the bride groomed and his friends were gathered in a showy cluster by the chance of step but the bride had not arrived and he stepped out to help in the marshalling the crowd of minors and mine girls fishermen and mothers with unruly children a hundred or so in all lining the path or straggling among the graves close by the gate there was a girl who stood alone hello lizzy you here why not she asked looking at him sullenly oh no reason at all there might have been a reason she said speaking low and hurriedly you might have saved me from this Mr. Raymond and her too one time you might why what on earth is the matter he looked up the treadiness carriage and a pair of grays came over the knoll and drew up before the gate matter lizzy echoed with a short laugh oh nothing I'm gonna lay a curse on her that's all you shall not there was no time to lose on aria's trustee the second cousin from london a tall clean shaven man with a shiny bald head and a shiny hat in his hand had stepped out and was helping the bride to a light what lizzy meant taffy could not tell but there must be no scene he caught her hand mind I say you shall not he whispered let me go you're creaming my fingers be quiet then at that moment on aria passed up the path her wedding gown almost brushed him as he stood ringing lizzy's hand she did not appear to see him but he saw her face beneath the bridal veil and it was hard and white the proud toad said lizzy I'm no better than dirt I suppose though from the start she wasn't above robin me ah she's sly Mr. Raymond I'll curse her as she comes out see if I don't and I swear you shall not said taffy the scent of on aria's orange blossom seemed to cling about them as they stood lizzy looked at him vindictively you wanted her yourself I know you weren't good enough neither let go of my fingers see the people have all gone in ghost way in two then and leave me here to wait for her taffy shut his teeth let go her hand and taking her by the shoulders swung her around to face toward the gate March he commanded and she moved off whimpering once she looked back March he repeated and followed her down the road as one follows and threatens a mutinous dog the scene by the church gate had puzzled on aria and in her first letter written from Italy she came straight to the point as her custom was I hope there is nothing between you and that girl who used to be at Joel's I say nothing about our hopes for you but you have your own career to look to and as I know you are too honorable to flatter an ignorant girl when you mean nothing so I trust you are too wise too much fancy forgive a staid matron of one week standing for writing so plainly but what I saw made me uneasy without cause no doubt your future, remember is not yours only and now I shall trust you and never come back to this subject we are like children abroad George's French is wonderful but not so wonderful as his Italian when he goes to take a ticket he wishes to arrive at for some reason he believes all foreigners to be deaf then he begins counting down Frank's one by one very slowly watching the clerk's face when the clerk's face tells him he has doled out enough he shouts hold hard and clutches the ticket it takes time but all the people hear our friends with him at once especially the children whom he punches in the ribs others nod and smile and openly admire him and I will I am happy and want everyone else to be happy End of Chapter 21 Recording by Rebecca Grace Chapter 22 of The Ship of Stars This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quiller Couch Men as Towers It was May morning and Taffy made one of the group gathered on the roof of Magdalen Tower In the groves below and across the river meadows all the birds are singing together Beyond the glimmering suburbs St. Clements and Cali St. John over the dark rise by Bullingdon Green the waning moon seemed to stand still and wait, poised on her nether horn Below her the morning sky waited clean and virginal letting her veil of mist slip lower and lower until it rested and folds upon shot over While it dropped a shaft of light tore through it and smote flashing on the vein high above Taffy's head turning the dark side of the turrets to purple and casting lilac shadows on the surpluses of the choir For a moment the whole dewy shadow of the tower trembled on the western sky and melted and was gone as a flood of gold on the eastward-turned faces The clock below struck five and ceased There was a sudden bearing of heads a hush and gently born aloft on boys' voices, clear and strong rose the first notes of the hymn Today I'm Patrim Colimus Telloribus Proseclimur Cacorpus Ciborifesis Colesti Mentum Gruscha In the pauses Taffy heard faint and far below the noises of cowhorns blown by the street boys gathered at the foot of the tower and beyond the bridge Close beside him a small urchin of a chorister was singing away with the face of an ecstatic seraph Once that ecstasy arose the urchin would have been puzzled to tell There flashed into Taffy's brain the vision of the whole earth lauding and adoring sun worshipers and Christians priests and small children of the nation prostrating itself and arising to join the chant the differing worlds agreeing sacrifice Yes, it was praise that made men brothers Praise, the creature's first and last act of homage to its creator Praise that made him kin with the angels Praise had lifted this tower had expressed itself in its soaring pinnacles and he for the moment was in corporate with the tower and part of its builder's purpose Lord, make men as towers He remembered his father's prayer in the field by Tewkesbury and at last he understood All towers carry a lamp of some kind Why, of course, they did He looked about him the small chorister's face was glowing Trion deus hominem salutis octor optimae immenseum hawk mysterium oventae lingua canimus silence and then with a shout the tunable bells broke forth rocking the tower Someone seized Taffy's college cap and sent it spinning over the battlements Caps? For a second or two they darkened the sky like a flock of birds A few gowns followed expanding as they dropped like clumsy parachutes The company, all but a few severe dons and their friends tumbled laughing down the ladder down the winding stair and out into the sunshine The world was pagan after all At breakfast Taffy found a letter on his table addressed in his mother's hand As a rule she wrote twice a week and this was not one of the usual days for hearing from her but nothing was too good to happen that morning He snatched up the letter and broke the seal My dearest boy it ran I want you home at once to consult with me Something has happened Forgive me, dear, for not preparing you but to blow fell on me yesterday so suddenly Something which makes it doubtful and more than doubtful that you can continue at Oxford And something else they say has happened which I will never believe in unless I hear it from my boy's lips I have this comfort at any rate that he will never tell me a falsehood This is a matter which cannot be explained by letter and cannot wait until the end of term Come home quickly, dear I can have no peace of mind So once again Taffy traveled homewards by the night mail Mother, it's a lie Taffy's face was hot but he looked straight into his mother's eyes She, too, was rosy red being ever a shamefast woman and to speak of these things to her own boy Thank God she murmured and her fingers gripped the arms of her chair It's a lie Where's the girl? She's in the workhouse, I believe I don't know who spread it or how many have heard, but Honoria believes it Honoria She cannot He came to a sudden halt But mother, even supposing Honoria believes it I don't see He was looking straight at her Her eyes sank Light began to break in on him Mother Humility did not look up Mother, don't tell me that she that Honoria made us promise your father and me God knows it did no more than repay what your father had suffered Your future was everything to us And I have been maintained at Oxford by her money he said, pausing in his bitterness on every word Not by that only, Taffy There was her scholarship and it was true about my savings on the lacework But he brushed her feeble explanations away with a little gesture of impatience Oh, why, mother, why? She heard him grown and stretched out her arms Taffy, forgive me, forgive us We did wrongly, I see I see it as plain now as you but we did it for your sake You should have told me I was not a child Yes, yes, you should have told me Yes, there laid the truth They had treated him as a child when he was no longer a child They had swathed him around with love forgetting that boys grow and demand to see with their own eyes and walk on their own feet To every mother of sons there come sooner or later the sharp lesson which came to humility that morning and few can find any defense but that which humility stammer sitting in her chair and gazing pietously up at the tall youth confronting her I did it for your sake Be pitiful, oh accusing sons in that hour for terrible as your case may be against them Others are speaking the simple truth Taffy took her hand The money must be paid back every penny of it Yes, dear, how much? Humility kept a small account book in the work box beside her She opened the pages but seeing his outstretched hand gave it obediently to Taffy who took it to the window Almost two hundred pounds He knit his brows and began to drum with his fingers on the window pane and we must put the interest at five percent With my first moderations I might find some post as an usher in a small school There's an agency which puts you in the way of such things. I must look up the address We will leave this house, of course Must we? Why, of course we must We are living here by her favor A cottage will do, only it must have four rooms because of grandmother I will step over and talk with Mindarga He may be able to give me a job but he will keep me going at any rate until I hear from the agency You forget that I have over forty pounds a year or rather mother has The capital came from the sale of her farm years ago Did it? said Taffy Grimly You forget that I have never been told Well, that's good so far as it goes But now I'll step over and see Mindarga If only I could catch this cowardly lie somewhere on my way He kissed his mother, caught up his cat to the house The sea breeze came humming across the sand hills He opened his lungs to it and it was wine to his blood He felt strong enough to slay dragons But who could the liar be? Not Lizzie herself, surely Not, he pulled up short in a hollow of the tolins Not, George? Treachery is a hideous thing and to youth so incomprehensibly hideous that it darkens the sun yet every trusting man must be betrayed That was one of the lessons of Christ's life on earth It is the last and severest test It kills many morally and no man who has once met it and looked it in the face departs the same man, though he may be a stronger one Not, George? Taffy stood there so still that the rabbits crept out and catching sight of him paused in the mouth of their burrows When at length he moved on it was to take out the path which wound up to Mindarva's but the one which led straight over to the higher moors to Corwithil It was between one and two o'clock when he reached the house and asked to see Mr. and Mrs. George Valle They were not at home, the footman said Had left for Falmouth the evening before to join some friends on a yachting cruise Sir Harry was at home was indeed lunching at that moment but would no doubt be pleased to see Mr. Raymond Sir Harry had finished his lunch and sat sipping his claret and tossing scraps of biscuits to the dogs Hello Raymond Thought you were at Oxford Sit down, my boy, delighted to see you Thomas A knife and fork for Mr. Raymond The cutlets are cold, I'm afraid but I can recommend the cold saddle and the ham, it's a York ham Go to the sideboard and forge for yourself I wanted company My boy and Anoria are at Falmouth Yachting and have left me alone What, you won't eat? A glass of claret then at any rate To tell the truth, Sir Harry Taffy began awkwardly I've come on a disagreeable business Sir Harry's face fell He hated disagreeable business He flipped a piece of biscuit at his spaniel's nose and sat back crossing his legs, want to keep? To me it's important Oh, fire away then only help yourself to the claret first A girl, Lizzie Pesik living over at Langona has had a child born Stop a moment, do I know her? Ah, to be sure, daughter of Old Pesik the lightkeeper, a brown colored girl with her hair over her eyes Well, I'm not surprised once money I suppose, who's the father? I don't know Well, but damn it all, somebody knows Sir Harry reached for the bottle and refilled his glass The one thing I know is that Anoria as George I mean, has heard about it and suspects me Sir Harry lifted his glass and glanced at him over the rim That's the devil, does she now? He sipped She hasn't been herself for a day or two This explains it I thought it was the change of era she wanted She's in the deuce of a rage you bet She is, said Taffy Grimly There's no prude like your young married woman but it'll blow over my boy My advice to you is to keep out of the way for a while But it's a lie, broke in the indignant Taffy, as far as I'm concerned there's not a grain of truth in it Oh, I beg your pardon I'm sure Here, Anoria's terrier the one which George had bought her at Plymouth interrupted by begging for a biscuit and Sir Harry balanced one carefully on his nose Untrust Good dog, what does the girl say herself? I don't know I have not seen her Oh, it's awkward I admit But I'm dashed if I see what you expect me to do The baronet pulled out a handkerchief and began flicking the crumbs off his knees Taffy watched him for a minute in silence He was asking himself why he'd come Well, he had come in a hot fit of indignation meaning to face Anoria and force her to take back the insult of her suspicion But after all, suppose George were at the bottom of it Clearly, Sir Henry knew nothing in any case could not be asked to expose his own son Anoria? Let be that she would never believe that he had no proof, no evidence even This were a pretty way of beginning to discharge his debt to her The terrier thrust the cold muzzle against his hand The room was very still Sir Harry poured out another glass full and held out the decanter Come, you must drink, I insist Taffy looked up Thank you, I will and with a clear conscience In those quiet moments he had taken the great resolution The debt should be paid back and with interest Not at five percent but at a rate beyond the creditor's power of reckoning for the interest to be guarded for her should be her continued belief in the man she loved Yes, but if George were innocent why then the sacrifice would be idle that was all He swallowed the wine and stood up Must you be going? To chat with you about Oxford, grumbled Sir Harry But noting the lad's face how white and drawn up was he relented and put a hand on his shoulder Don't take it too seriously, my boy It'll blow over, it'll blow over Anoria likes you, I know We'll see what the trollop says and if I get the chance of putting in a good word you may depend on me He walked with Taffy to the door Good, easy man and waved a hand from the porch To the hole he was rather glad than not to see his young friend's back From his smithy window Mindar was spied Taffy coming along the road and he stepped out on the green to shake hands with him Pleased to see your face, my son You'll excuse my not asking he inside but fact is, he jerked his thumb towards the smithy We've got our troubles in there It came on our youth was something more of a shock that the world had room for any trouble beside his own Tis the day He went over to Truro yesterday to the wrasslin and got throd I'd tell him there's no call to be shame Twas Luke the Windrunfella did it in the treble play Inside locked backward and as pretty at ship as I ever see Mindarva began to illustrate it with foot and ankle but checked himself and glanced nervously over his shoulder He isn't looking, I hope He's in a terrible poor about it Won't trust his cell to spake and don't want to see nobody As I tell him there's no call to be shamed The fella took the belt in the last round and turned his man over like a tad He's a proper angel witch that Windrunfella Stank pond in both ends and he'll rise up in the middle and look at him There was no one to patch on him but the Dane and I'll back the Dane next time they clench Tis a nuisance though to happen like this with a big job coming on too over in the lighthouse Taffy looked steadily at the smith What's doing at the lighthouse Hadn't he heard Mindarva began a long tale the sum of which was that the lighthouse had begun of late to show signs of age to rock at times in an ominous manner The Trinity House surveyor had been down and reported and Mindarva had the contract for some immediate repairs But Tis patching an old kettle my son, the foundations be clamped down to the rock and the clamps of work loose The whole thing I have to come down in the end, you mark my words But these repairs Taffy interrupted You'll be wanting hands Why, of course, and a foreman A clerk of the works While Mindarva was telling his tale over a hill two miles to the westward a small donkey cart crawled for a minute against the skyline and disappeared beyond the ridge which hid the tolins An old man trudged at the donkey's head and a young woman sat in the cart with a bundle in her arms and thought that when the donkey without rhyme or reason came to a halt halfway down the hill, he too halted and stood pulling a wisp of grey side whiskers Look here, he said You ain't gonna tell That's your last word, is it? The young woman looked down on the bundle and nodded her head There, that'll do If you went, you went I've taken you back and us must fit and make the best of it The children never be good for much but was to be, I suppose Lizzie sat dumb but hugged the bundle closer Tis like a judgment, if your mother'd been spared, wouldn't happen but to us to be, I suppose the Lord's ways be past finding out He woke up and struck the donkey across the rump Go on, you, yip Why'd you mean stopping like that? End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 of The Ship of Stars This is a Libervox recording All Libervox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libervox.org The Ship of Stars by Arthur Quiller Couch The Service of the Lamp The chief engineer of the Trinity House was a man of few words He and Taffy had spent the afternoon clambering about the rocks below the lighthouse paring into its foundations Here and there, where we'd coated the rocks and made foothold slippery he took the hand which Taffy held out Now and then he paused for a pinch of snuff The round of inspection finished he took an extraordinarily long pinch What's your opinion, he asked cocking his head on one side and examining the young man much as he'd examined the lighthouse You have one, I suppose Yes, sir, but of course it doesn't count for much I asked for it Well, then I think, sir we've wasted a year's work and if we go on tinkering we shall waste more Pull it down and rebuild, you say Yes, sir, but not on the same rock Why? This rock was ill-chosen You see, sir, just here a ridge of elven crops up through the slate The rock out yonder is good elven and that is why the sea has made an island of it wearing away the softer stuff inshore The mischief here lies in the rock not in the lighthouse nor base partly, but the lighthouse has done more in a strong gale the foundations begin to work and in the chafing the rock gets the worst of it What about concrete? You might fill up the sockets with concrete but I doubt, sir, if the case would hold up for any time The rock is a mere shale in places especially on the northwestern side You were at Oxford for a time where you're not Yes, sir, Taffy answered wondering, I've heard about you Where do you live? Taffy pointed to the last of a line of three whitewashed cottages behind the lighthouse Alone? No, sir, with my mother and grandmother She's an invalid I wonder if your mother would be kind enough to offer me a cup of tea In the small kitchen on the walls of which and even on the dresser Taffy's books fought for room with humility's plates and tinware Chief engineer proved to be a most courteous old gentleman In humility he bore himself with an antique politeness which flattered her considerably and when he praised her tea she almost forgave him for his detestable habit of snuff taking He had heard something it appeared from the president of Taffy's college and also from, he named Taffy's old friend in the Velvet College Cap In later days Taffy maintained not only that every man must try to stand alone but that he ought to try the harder because of its impossibility for in fact it was impossible to escape from men's helpfulness and though his work was done in lonely places where in the end fame came out to seek him he remained the same boy who, waking in the dark had heard the bugle speaking comfort As a matter of fact his college had generally offered him a chance which would have cost him nothing or next to nothing of continuing to read for his degree but he had chosen his line and against humility's and treaties he stuck to it The chief engineer took a ceremony as he had to drive back to his hotel and Taffy escorted him to his carriage I shall run over again tomorrow he said at parting and we'll have a look at that island rock he was driven off secretly a little puzzled Well it puzzled Taffy at times why he should be working here with Mendarva's men for 20 shillings a week it had been 18 to begin with when he might be reading for his degree in a fellowship yet in his heart he knew the reason that would be building after all on the foundations Taffy had laid pride had helped chance to bring him here to the very spot where Lizzie Pesig lived he met her daily and several times a day she and his mother and grandmother were all the women folk in the hamlet if three cottages deserved that name In the first cottage Lizzie lived with her father who was chief lighthouseman and her crippled child two underkeepers, unmarried men managed together in the second and this accident allowed Taffy to rent the third from the brethren of the community house and live close to his daily work. Alas brought by business no one visited that windy peninsula no one passed with inside of it no tree grew upon it or could be seen from it. At daybreak Taffy's workmen came trudging along the track where short turf and junctions grew between the wheel rods and in the evening went trudging back the level of sun flashing on their empty dinner cans the eight souls left behind had one common gospel cleanliness very little dust found its way thither but the salt spray laden air kept them constantly polishing window panes and brushwork to wash to scour to polish grew into the one absorbing business of life they had no gossip even in their own dwellings they spoke but little their speech shrank and dwindled away in the continuous roar of the sea but from morning to night mechanically they washed and scoured and polished paper was not whiter than the deal table and dresser which grubbed daily with soap and water and once a week with lemon juice as well never was cleaner linen to sight and smell that which she pegged out by the first break on the ridge all of the life of a small colony though lonely grew wholesome as it was simple of purpose in cottages thus sweetened and kept by lime wash and salt wind and through it moved the forlorn figure of Lizzie Pesik's child somehow Lizzie had taught the boy to walk with the help of a crush as early as most children but the wind made cruel sport with his efforts in the open knocking the crutch from under him at every third step and laying him flat the child had pluck however and when autumn came around again could face a fairly stiff breeze it was about this time that word came of the trinity board's intention to replace the old lighthouse with one upon the outer rock for the chief engineer had visited it and decided that taffy was right to be sure no mention was made of taffy in his report the great man took the first opportunity to offer him the post of foreman of the works so there was certainly nothing to be grumbled at the work did not actually start until the following spring for the rock to receive the foundations had to be board some feet below higher than water level and this could only be attempted on calm days or when a southerly wind blew from the high land well over the workman's heads leaving the inshore water smooth on such days taffy looking up his work would catch sight of a small figure on the cliff top landing assolent to the wind and watching for the child was adventurous and took no account of his lameness perhaps if he thought of it all having no chance to compare himself with other children he accepted his lameness as a condition of childhood something he would grow out of his mother could not keep him indoors he fidgeted continually but he would sit or stand quiet by the hour on the cliff top watching as they drilled and fixed the dynamite and waiting for the bang of it best of all however were the days when his grandfather allowed him inside the lighthouse to clamor about the staircase and ladders to watch the oiling and trimming of the great lantern and the ships moving slowly on the horizon he asked a thousand questions about them I think he said one day before he was three years old that my father is in one of those ships plus the child claimed old peasant who says you have a father everybody has a father Dicky Chagenza has one they both worked down at the rock I asked Dicky and he told me told he what? that everybody has a father I asked him if mine was out in one of those ships and he said very likely I asked mother too but she was washing up and would listen old peasant regarded the child grimly which was to be I suppose he muttered Lizzie Peasant had never set foot inside the Raymond's Cottage gentle soul as she was could on some points be as uncrushed as other women as time went on it seemed that not a soul beside herself and Taffy knew of an aureus suspicion she even doubted and Taffy doubted too if Lizzie herself knew such an accusation had been made certainly never by word or look had Lizzie hinted at it yet humility could not find it in her heart to forgive her she may be innocent was the thought Taffy by this time had no doubt at all it was George who poisoned the aureus ear George's shame and aureus pride would explain why the whisper had never gone further and nothing else would explain did his mother guess this he believed so at times but they never spoke of it the lame child was often in the Raymond's kitchen Lizzie did not forbid or resent this and he liked humility he would talk to her at length he would talk to one of her dripping cakes people don't tell the truth he observes agely on one of these occasions he pronounced it truth by the way I know why we live here it's because we're near the sea my father's on the sea somewhere looking for us and grandfather lights the lamp every night to tell him where we are one night he'll see it and bring his ship in and take us all off together who told you all this nobody people won't tell me nothing at times when his small limbs grew weary though he never acknowledged this he would stretch himself on the short turf of the headland and lie staring up at the white gulls no one ever came near enough to surprise the look which crept over the child's face but taffy passing him at a distance remembered another small boy and shivered to remember and compare a boy's will is the wind's will and the thoughts of youth are long long thoughts but howl when the boy is a cripple one afternoon he was stooping to inspect an offcement piece of boring when a man in his elbow said hello, isn't that young Joey Pezzik and Diffidy's up there? blessed that the shield won't break his neck one of these days taffy caught up a coil of rope sprang into a boat and pushed across the land don't move he shouted at the foot of the cliff he picked up Joey's crutch and ran at full speed up the path worn by the workmen let's let him round to the verge where the child clung white and silent he looped the rope into running news and lowered it slip this under your arms can you manage or shall I come down I'll come if you're hurt I twisted my foot it's all right now you're come said the little man bravely and slid the rope around himself in the most business-like way the grass was slipper he began as soon as his feet touched the firm earth and with that he broke down he carried him, a featherweight, to the cottage where Lizzie stood by her table washing up she saw them at the gate and came running out it's all right, he slipped out on the cliff nothing more than a scratch or two and perhaps a sprain ankle he watched while she set Joey in a chair and began to pull off his stockings he had never seen the child's foot naked she turned suddenly caught him looking and pulled the stocking back over the deformity have you heard? she asked what? she is a boy she laughed harshly I thought that would hurt you well, you have been a silly I don't think I understand you don't think you understand, she mimicked and you're not fond of her a never were fond of her a you silly to let him take her and never tell tell? she faced him hardening her gaze yes, tell, she nodded slowly while Joey, unobserved by either looked up with wide round eyes men don't fight like that before it struck him that one man had almost certainly fought like that her face however told him nothing she could not know you have never told, he added because she began but could not tell him the whole truth and yet what he said was true because you will not let me, she muttered in the church yard you mean on her wedding day? before that but before that I never guessed all the same I knew what you were saying to me, it came to the same thing and if I had told oh, you make it hard for me, she wailed he stared at her, understanding this only, that somehow he could control her will I will never let you tell, he said gravely I hate her you shall not tell listen, she drew close and touched his arm he never cared for her, it's not his way to care, she cares for him now not as she might have cared for you but she's his wife and some women are like that, that's her pride anyway suppose he came back to me if I caught him, taffy began but the poor child, who for two minutes had been twisting his face heroically, interrupted with a wail oh mother, my foot, it hurts so end of chapter 23 chapter 24 of the ship of stars this is a Libervox recording all Libervox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer, please visit libervox.org the ship of stars by Arthur Quiller Couch face to face the first winner had interrupted all work upon the rock but taffy and his men had used the calm days of the following spring and summer to such purpose that before the end of July the foundation began to show above high water needs and in September he was able to report that the building could be pushed forward in any ordinary weather the workmen were carried to and from the mainland by a wire hauser and cradle and the rising breastwork of masonry protected them from the beat of the sea progress was slow for each separate stone had to be dovetailed above, below, and on all sides with the blocks adjoining it besides being cemented and care to be taken that no salt mingled with the fresh water or found its way into the joints of the building taffy studied the barometer hour by hour and kept a constant look out to whenward against sudden gales on November 16th the men had finished their dinner and sat smoking under the leaf of the wall when taffy with his pocket aneroid in his hand gave the order to snug down and man the cradle for shore they stared the morning had been a housey one and the northerly breeze which had sprung up with the turn of the tide the men were rushing and carried no cloud across the sky two vessels a brigantine and a three masted schooner were merrily reaching down channel before it the brigantine leading at two miles distance they could see distinctly the white foam running from her bluff bows and her forward deck from bow work to bow work as she healed to it one or two grumbled a half days work meant a half days pay to them it was all very well for the captain who drew his by the week come look alike taffy called sharply he pinned his face to the barometer and as he shudded in his case he glanced at the brigantine and saw that her crew were busy with the braces flattening the forward canvas see there boys there'll be a gale from west or before night for a minute the brigantine seemed to have run into a column the schooner half a mile behind her came reaching along steadily that their two masters got a fool for the grumbled a voice but almost at the moment the wind took her right back or would have done so had the crew not been preparing for it her stern swung slowly around into view and within two minutes she was fetching away from them on the port tack her sails hold closer and closer as she went already the schooner was preparing to follow suit snug down boys we must be out of this in half an hour and sure enough by the time taffy gained the cliff the old lighthouse the sky had darken and a stiff breeze from the northwest crossing the tide was beginning to work up a nasty sea around the rock and lop it from time to time over the masonry and the platforms were half an hour before his men had been standing the two vessels had disappeared in the weather and his taffy stared in their direction a spit of rain the first took him viciously in the face he turned his back to it and hurried homeward as he passed the lighthouse door old peasant called out to him hi wait a bit would you mind seeing joey home i don't know what his mother sent him over here for not i he'll get a self leaking joey came hobbling out and put his right hand in taffy's with the fist double what's that in your hand joey looked up shyly you won't tell not if it's a secret the child opened his palm and disclosed a bright half crown piece where on earth did you get that the soldier gave it to me the soldier? not since what are you making up well he had a red coat so he must be a soldier he gave it to me and told me to be a good boy and run off and play taffy came to a hall is he up here, up at the cottages how fun will you say that no he's just rode away i watched him from the lighthouse windows he can't be gone far yet look here joey can you run yes if you hold my hand oh you mustn't go too fast oh you're hurting taffy took the child in his arms and with the wind at his back went up the hill with long stride there he is cried joey as they gained the ridge and he pointed and taffy looking along the ridge saw a speck of scarlet moving against the lead colored moors half a mile away perhaps or a little more he sat the child down for the cottages were close by run home sonny i'm going to have a look at the soldier too the first bad squall broke on the headland just as taffy started to run it was as if a bag of water had burst right overhead and within a quarter of a minute he was drenched to the skin so fiercely it went howling inland along the ridge that he half expected to see the horse urged into a gala before it but the rider now standing high for a moment against the skyline went plotting on for a while horse and man disappeared over the rise but taffy guessed that on hitting the cross path beyond it they would strike a way to the left and descend toward lagoona creek and he began to slant his course to the left in anticipation the tide he knew would be running in strong and with this wind behind it he hoped and caught himself praying that it would be high enough to cover the wooden footbridge and make the fort impassable and if so the horseman would be delayed and forced to head back and fetch a circuit farther up the valley by this time the squalls were coming fast on each other's heels and the strength of them flung him forward at each stride he had lost his hat and the rain poured down his back and squished in his boots but all he felt was the hate in his heart it had gathered there little by little for three years and a half and out fed by his silent thoughts as a reservoir by small mountain streams and was so tranquil a surface that at times poor youth he had honestly believed it reflected God's calm had been proud of his magnanimity and said forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us now as he ran he prayed to the same God to delay the traitor at the fort dusk was falling when George yet unaware of pursuit turned down the sunken lane which ended beside the fort and by the shore when the small waves lapped against his mare's four feet he heard Taffy shout for the first time and turned in a saddle even so it was a second or two before he recognized the figure which came pledging down the low cliff on his left avoiding a fall only by wild clutches of the swaying elder bells hello he shouted cheerfully looks nasty doesn't it Taffy came down the beach near enough to see that the mare's legs plastered with mud and to look up into his enemy's face get down he panted hey get down I tell you come off your horse and put up your fists what the devil is the matter hello keep off I tell you are you mad come off and fight by God I'll break your head in if you don't let go you idiot as the mare plunged and tore the stirrup leather from Taffy's grip she'll brain you if you fool around her heels like that come off then very well George backed a little swung himself out of the saddle and faced him on the beach now perhaps she'll explain you've come from the headland well from Lizzie Pezzix well and what then only this that's so sure as you have a wife at home if you come to the headland again I'll kill you and if you're a man you'll put up your fists now oh that's it may I ask you with my wife or with Lizzie Pezzix whose child is Lizzie's not yours is it you said so once you told your wife so liar that you were very good my gentlemen you shall have what you want Walmer he led her up the beach and sought for a branch to tie his range to the mare hung back terrified by the swishing of the whip bowels and the roar of the gale overhead her hooves says George dragged her forward scuffled with the loose lying stones on the beach after a minute he desisted and turned on taffy again look here before we have this out there's one thing I'd like you to know when you were at Oxford was Anoria maintaining you there if you must know yes and when this happened she stopped the supplies yes well then I didn't know it she never told me she never told me you don't say I do I never knew it until too late well now I'm going to fight you I don't swallow being called a liar but I tell you this first that I'm damn sorry I never guessed that it injured your prospects at another time in another mood taffy might have remembered that George was George and heir to Sir Harry's nature as it was the apology threw oil on the flame you cur do you think it was that and you are Anoria's husband he advanced with an ugly laugh for the last time put up your fists they had been standing within two yards of each other and even so shouted at the pitch of their voices to make themselves heard above the gale as taffy took a step forward George lifted his whip his left hand held the bridle on which the reluctant mare was dragging and the action was merely instinctive to guard against sudden attack but as he did so his face and uplifted arm were suddenly painted clear against the darkness the mare plunged more wildly than ever taffy dropped his hands and swung around behind him the black contour of the hill the whole sky welled up with a pale blue light which gathered brightness while he stared the very stones on the beach at his feet shown separate and distinct what is it George gasped a ship on the rocks quick man will the mare reach to Innis she'll have to George wheeled her around out with two long gallops after hounds that day but for the moment sheer terror made her lively enough ride then call up the coast guard by the flare she must be somewhere off the creek here ride a clatter of hoes answered him as the mare pounded up the lane end of chapter 24