The SEA-HAWK
PART I
SIR OLIVER TRESSILIAN
CHAPTER VII
TREPANNED
Master Lionel was absent most of the following day from Penarrow, upon a
pretext of making certain purchases in Truro. It would be half-past seven when
he returned; and as he entered he met Sir Oliver in the hall.
"I have a message for you from Godolphin Court," he announced, and saw his
brother stiffen and his face change colour. "A boy met me at the gates and bade
me tell you that Mistress Rosamund desires a word with you forthwith."
Sir Oliver's heart almost stopped, then went off at a gallop. She asked for
him! She had softened perhaps from her yesterday's relentlessness. She would
consent at last to see him!
"Be thou blessed for these good tidings!" he answered on a note of high
excitement. "I go at once." And on the instant he departed. Such was his
eagerness, indeed, that under the hot spur of it he did not even stay to fetch
that parchment which was to be his unanswerable advocate. The omission was
momentous.
Master Lionel said no word as his brother swept out. He shrank back a little
into the shadows. He was white to the lips and felt as he would stifle. As the
door closed he moved suddenly. He sprang to follow Sir Oliver. Conscience cried
out to him that he could not do this thing. But Fear was swift to answer that
outcry. Unless he permitted what was planned to take its course, his life might
pay the penalty.
He turned, and lurched into the dining-room upon legs that trembled.
He found the table set for supper as on that other night when he had
staggered in with a wound in his side to be cared for and sheltered by Sir
Oliver. He did not approach the table; he crossed to the fire, and sat down
there holding out his hands to the blaze. He was very cold and could not still
his trembling. His very teeth chattered.
Nicholas came in to know if he would sup. He answered unsteadily that despite
the lateness of the hour he would await Sir Oliver's return.
"Is Sir Oliver abroad?" quoth the servant in surprise.
"He went out a moment since, I know not whither," replied Lionel. "But since
he has not supped he is not like to be long absent."
Upon that he dismissed the servant, and sat huddled there, a prey to mental
tortures which were not to be repressed. His mind would turn upon naught but the
steadfast, unwavering affection of which Sir Oliver ever had been prodigal
towards him. In this very matter of Peter Godolphin's death, what sacrifices had
not Sir Oliver made to shield him? From so much love and self-sacrifice in the
past he inclined to argue now that not even in extreme peril would his brother
betray him. And then that bad streak of fear which made a villain of him
reminded him that to argue thus was to argue upon supposition, that it would be
perilous to trust such an assumption; that if, after all, Sir Oliver should fail
him in the crucial test, then was he lost indeed.
When all is said, a man's final judgment of his fellows must be based upon
his knowledge of himself; and Lionel, knowing himself incapable of any such
sacrifice for Sir Oliver, could not believe Sir Oliver capable of persisting in
such a sacrifice as future events might impose. He reverted to those words Sir
Oliver had uttered in that very room two nights ago, and more firmly than ever
he concluded that they could have but one meaning.
Then came doubt, and, finally, assurance of another sort, assurance that this
was not so and that he knew it; assurance that he lied to himself, seeking to
condone the thing he did. He took his head in his hands and groaned loud. He was
a villain, a black-hearted, soulless villain! He reviled himself again. There
came a moment when he rose shuddering, resolved even in this eleventh hour to go
after his brother and save him from the doom that awaited him out yonder in the
night.
But again that resolve was withered by the breath of selfish fear. Limply he
resumed his seat, and his thoughts took a fresh turn. They considered now those
matters which had engaged them on that day when Sir Oliver had ridden to
Arwenack to claim satisfaction of Sir John Killigrew. He realized again that
Oliver being removed, what he now enjoyed by his brother's bounty he would enjoy
henceforth in his own unquestioned right. The reflection brought him a certain
consolation. If he must suffer for his villainy, at least there would be
compensations.
The clock over the stables chimed the hour of eight. Master Lionel shrank
back in his chair at the sound. The thing would be doing even now. In his mind
he saw it all—saw his brother come running in his eagerness to the gates of
Godolphin Court, and then dark forms resolve themselves from the surrounding
darkness and fall silently upon him. He saw him struggling a moment on the
ground, then, bound hand and foot, a gag thrust into his mouth, he beheld him in
fancy borne swiftly down the slope to the beach and so to the waiting boat.
Another half-hour sat he there. The thing was done by now, and this assurance
seemed to quiet him a little.
Then came Nicholas again to babble of some possible mischance having
overtaken his master.
"What mischance should have overtaken him?" growled Lionel, as if in scorn of
the idea.
"I pray none indeed," replied the servant. "But Sir Oliver lacks not for
enemies nowadays, and 'tis scarce zafe for he to be abroad after dark."
Master Lionel dismissed the notion contemptuously. For pretence's sake he
announced that he would wait no longer, whereupon Nicholas brought in his
supper, and left him again to go and linger about the door, looking out into the
night and listening for his master's return. He paid a visit to the stables, and
knew that Sir Oliver had gone forth afoot.
Meanwhile Master Lionel must make pretence of eating though actual eating
must have choked him. He smeared his platter, broke food, and avidly drank a
bumper of claret. Then he, too, feigned a growing anxiety and went to join
Nicholas. Thus they spent the weary night, watching for the return of one who
Master Lionel knew would return no more.
At dawn they roused the servants and sent them to scour the countryside and
put the news of Sir Oliver's disappearance abroad. Lionel himself rode out to
Arwenack to ask Sir John Killigrew bluntly if he knew aught of this matter.
Sir John showed a startled face, but swore readily enough that he had not so
much as seen Sir Oliver for days. He was gentle with Lionel, whom he liked, as
everybody liked him. The lad was so mild and kindly in his ways, so vastly
different from his arrogant overbearing brother, that his virtues shone the more
brightly by that contrast.
"I confess it is natural you should come to me," said Sir John. "But, my word
on it, I have no knowledge of him. It is not my way to beset my enemies in the
dark."
"Indeed, indeed, Sir John, I had not supposed it in my heart," replied the
afflicted Lionel. "Forgive me that I should have come to ask a question so
unworthy. Set it down to my distracted state. I have not been the same man these
months, I think, since that happening in Godolphin Park. The thing has preyed
upon my mind. It is a fearsome burden to know your own brother—though I thank
God he is no more than my half-brother—guilty of so foul a deed."
"How?" cried Killigrew, amazed. "You say that? You believed it yourself?"
Master Lionel looked confused, a look which Sir John entirely misunderstood
and interpreted entirely in the young man's favour. And it was thus and in that
moment that was sown the generous seed of the friendship that was to spring up
between these two men, its roots fertilized by Sir John's pity that one so
gentle-natured, so honest, and so upright should be cursed with so villainous a
brother.
"I see, I see," he said. And he sighed. "You know that we are daily expecting
an order from the Queen to her Justices to take the action which hitherto they
have refused against your... against Sir Oliver." He frowned thoughtfully. "D'ye
think Sir Oliver had news of this?"
At once Master Lionel saw the drift of what was in the other's mind.
"I know it," he replied. "Myself I bore it him. But why do you ask?"
"Does it not help us perhaps to understand and explain Sir Oliver's
disappearance? God lack! Surely, knowing that, he were a fool to have tarried
here, for he would hang beyond all doubt did he stay for the coming of her
grace's messenger."
"My God!" said Lionel, staring. "You... you think he is fled, then?"
Sir John shrugged. "What else is to be thought?"
Lionel hung his head. "What else, indeed?" said he, and took his leave like a
man overwrought, as indeed he was. He had never considered that so obvious a
conclusion must follow upon his work so fully to explain the happening and to
set at rest any doubt concerning it.
He returned to Penarrow, and bluntly told Nicholas what Sir John suspected
and what he feared himself must be the true reason of Sir Oliver's
disappearance. The servant, however, was none so easy to convince.
"But do ee believe that he done it?" cried Nicholas. "Do ee believe it,
Master Lionel?" There was reproach amounting to horror in the servant's voice.
"God help me, what else can I believe now that he is fled."
Nicholas sidled up to him with tightened lips. He set two gnarled fingers on
the young man's arm.
"He'm not fled, Master Lionel," he announced with grim impressiveness. "He'm
never a turntail. Sir Oliver he don't fear neither man nor devil, and if so be
him had killed Master Godolphin, he'd never ha' denied it. Don't ee believe Sir
John Killigrew. Sir John ever hated he."
But in all that countryside the servant was the only one to hold this view.
If a doubt had lingered anywhere of Sir Oliver's guilt, that doubt was now
dispelled by this flight of his before the approach of the expected orders from
the Queen.
Later that day came Captain Leigh to Penarrow inquiring for Sir Oliver.
Nicholas brought word of his presence and his inquiry to Master Lionel, who
bade him be admitted.
The thick-set little seaman rolled in on his bowed legs, and leered at his
employer when they were alone.
"He's snug and safe aboard," he announced. "The thing were done as clean as
peeling an apple, and as quiet."
"Why did you ask for him?" quoth Master Lionel.
"Why?" Jasper leered again. "My business was with him. There was some talk
between us of him going a voyage with me. I've heard the gossip over at
Smithick. This will fit in with it." He laid that finger of his to his nose.
"Trust me to help a sound tale along. 'T were a clumsy business to come here
asking for you, sir. Ye'll know now how to account for my visit."
Lionel paid him the price agreed and dismissed him upon receiving the
assurance that the Swallow would put to sea upon the next tide.
When it became known that Sir Oliver had been in treaty with Master Leigh for
a passage overseas, and that it was but on that account that Master Leigh had
tarried in that haven, even Nicholas began to doubt.
Gradually Lionel recovered his tranquillity as the days flowed on. What was
done was done, and, in any case, being now beyond recall, there was no profit in
repining. He never knew how fortune aided him, as fortune will sometimes aid a
villain. The royal pour-suivants arrived some six days later, and Master Baine
was the recipient of a curt summons to render himself to London, there to
account for his breach of trust in having refused to perform his sworn duty. Had
Sir Andrew Flack but survived the chill that had carried him off a month ago,
Master Justice Baine would have made short work of the accusation lodged against
him. As it was, when he urged the positive knowledge he possessed, and told them
how he had made the examination to which Sir Oliver had voluntarily submitted,
his single word carried no slightest conviction. Not for a moment was it
supposed that this was aught but the subterfuge of one who had been lax in his
duty and who sought to save himself from the consequences of that laxity. And
the fact that he cited as his fellow-witness a gentleman now deceased but served
to confirm his judges in this opinion. He was deposed from his office and
subjected to a heavy fine, and there the matter ended, for the hue-and-cry that
was afoot entirely failed to discover any trace of the missing Sir Oliver.
For Master Lionel a new existence set in from that day. Looked upon as one in
danger of suffering for his brother's sins, the countryside determined to help
him as far as possible to bear his burden. Great stress was laid upon the fact
that after all he was no more than Sir Oliver's half-brother; some there were
who would have carried their kindness to the lengths of suggesting that perhaps
he was not even that, and that it was but natural that Ralph Tressilian's second
wife should have repaid her husband in kind for his outrageous infidelities.
This movement of sympathy was led by Sir John Killigrew, and it spread in so
rapid and marked a manner that very soon Master Lionel was almost persuaded that
it was no more than he deserved, and he began to sun himself in the favour of a
countryside that hitherto had shown little but hostility for men of the
Tressilian blood.