I took but little harm beyond a shaking; and soon, pulling myself
together, set to strike my flint and blow the match into a flame to
search for the fallen candle. Yet all the time I kept in my fingers this
handful of light stuff; and when the flame burnt up again I held the
thing against the light, and saw that it was no wisp of seaweed, but
something black and wiry. For a moment, I could not gather what I had
hold of, but then gave a start that nearly sent the candle out, and
perhaps a cry, and let it drop as if it were red-hot iron, for I knew
that it was a man's beard.

Now when I saw that, I felt a sort of throttling fright, as though one
had caught hold of my heartstrings; and so many and such strange thoughts
rose in me, that the blood went pounding round and round in my head, as
it did once afterwards when I was fighting with the sea and near drowned.
Surely to have in hand the beard of any dead man in any place was bad
enough, but worse a thousand times in such a place as this, and to know
on whose face it had grown. For, almost before I fully saw what it was, I
knew it was that black beard which had given Colonel John Mohune his
nickname, and this was his great coffin I had hid behind.

I had lain, therefore, all that time, cheek by jowl with Blackbeard
himself, with only a thin shell of tinder wood to keep him from me, and
now had thrust my hand into his coffin and plucked away his beard. So
that if ever wicked men have power to show themselves after death, and
still to work evil, one would guess that he would show himself now and
fall upon me. Thus a sick dread got hold of me, and had I been a woman
or a girl I think I should have swooned; but being only a boy, and not
knowing how to swoon, did the next best thing, which was to put myself as
far as might be from the beard, and make for the outlet. Yet had I scarce
set foot in the passage when I stopped, remembering how once already this
same evening I had played the coward, and run home scared with my own
fears. So I was brought up for very shame, and beside that thought how I
had come to this place to look for Blackbeard's treasure, and might have
gone away without knowing even so much as where he lay, had not chance
first led me to be down by his side, and afterwards placed my hand upon
his beard. And surely this could not be chance alone, but must rather be
the finger of Providence guiding me to that which I desired to find. This
consideration somewhat restored my courage, and after several feints to
return, advances, stoppings, and panics, I was in the vault again,
walking carefully round the stack of barrels, and fearing to see the
glimmer of the candle fall upon that beard. There it was upon the sand,
and holding the candle nearer to it with a certain caution, as though it
would spring up and bite me, I saw it was a great full black beard, more
than a foot long, but going grey at the tips; and had at the back,
keeping it together, a thin tissue of dried skin, like the false parting
which Aunt Jane wore under her cap on Sundays. This I could see as it lay
before me, for I did not handle or lift it, but only peered into it, with
the candle, on all sides, busying myself the while with thoughts of the
man of whom it had once been part.

In returning to the vault, I had no very sure purpose in mind; only a
vague surmise that this finding of Blackbeard's coffin would somehow lead
to the finding of his treasure. But as I looked at the beard and
pondered, I began to see that if anything was to be done, it must be by
searching in the coffin itself, and the clearer this became to me, the
greater was my dislike to set about such a task. So I put off the evil
hour, by feigning to myself that it was necessary to make a careful
scrutiny of the beard, and thus wasted at least ten minutes. But at
length, seeing that the candle was burning low, and could certainly last
little more than half an hour, and considering that it must now be
getting near dawn, I buckled to the distasteful work of rummaging the
coffin. Nor had I any need to climb up on to the top shelf again, but
standing on the one beneath, found my head and arms well on a level with
the search. And beside that, the task was not so difficult as I had
thought; for in my fall I had broken off the head-end of the lid, and
brought away the whole of that side that faced the vault. Now, any lad of
my age, and perhaps some men too, might well have been frightened to set
about such a matter as to search in a coffin; and if any had said, a few
hours before, that I should ever have courage to do this by night in the
Mohune vault, I would not have believed him. Yet here I was, and had
advanced along the path of terror so gradually, and as it were foot by
foot in the past night, that when I came to this final step I was not
near so scared as when I first felt my way into the vault. It was not the
first time either that I had looked on death; but had, indeed, always a
leaning to such sights and matters, and had seen corpses washed up from
the _Darius_ and other wrecks, and besides that had helped Ratsey to case
some poor bodies that had died in their beds.

The coffin was, as I have said, of great length, and the side being
removed, I could see the whole outline of the skeleton that lay in it. I
say the outline, for the form was wrapped in a woollen or flannel shroud,
so that the bones themselves were not visible. The man that lay in it was
little short of a giant, measuring, as I guessed, a full six and a half
feet, and the flannel having sunk in over the belly, the end of the
breast-bone, the hips, knees, and toes were very easy to be made out. The
head was swathed in linen bands that had been white, but were now stained
and discoloured with damp, but of this I shall not speak more, and
beneath the chin-cloth the beard had once escaped. The clutch which I had
made to save myself in falling had torn away this chin-band and let the
lower jaw drop on the breast; but little else was disturbed, and there
was Colonel John Mohune resting as he had been laid out a century ago. I
lifted that portion of the lid which had been left behind, and reached
over to see if there was anything hid on the other side of the body; but
had scarce let the light fall in the coffin when my heart gave a great
bound, and all fear left me in the flush of success, for there I saw what
I had come to seek.

On the breast of this silent and swathed figure lay a locket, attached to
the neck by a thin chain, which passed inside the linen bandages. A
whiter portion of the flannel showed how far the beard had extended, but
locket and chain were quite black, though I judged that they were made of
silver. The shape of this locket was not unlike a crown-piece, only three
times as thick, and as soon as I set eyes upon it I never doubted but
that inside would be found the diamond.

It was then that a great pity came over me for this thin shadow of man;
thinking rather what a fine, tall gentleman Colonel Mohune had once been,
and a good soldier no doubt besides, than that he had wasted a noble
estate and played traitor to the king. And then I reflected that it was
all for the bit of flashing stone, which lay as I hoped within the
locket, that he had sold his honour; and wished that the jewel might
bring me better fortune than had fallen to him, or at any rate, that it
might not lead me into such miry paths. Yet such thoughts did not delay
my purpose, and I possessed myself of the locket easily enough, finding a
hasp in the chain, and so drawing it out from the linen folds. I had
expected as I moved the locket to hear the jewel rattle in the inside,
but there was no sound, and then I thought that the diamond might cleave
to the side with damp, or perhaps be wrapped in wool. Scarcely was the
locket well in my hand before I had it undone, finding a thumb-nick
whereby, after a little persuasion, the back, though rusted, could be
opened on a hinge. My breath came very fast, and I shook so that I had a
difficulty to keep my thumbnail in the nick, yet hardly was it opened
before exalted expectation gave place to deepest disappointment.

For there lay all the secret of the locket disclosed, and there was no
diamond, no, nor any other jewel, and nothing at all except a little
piece of folded paper. Then I felt like a man who has played away all his
property and stakes his last crown--heavy-hearted, yet hoping against
hope that luck may turn, and that with this piece be may win back all his
money. So it was with me; for I hoped that this paper might have written
on it directions for the finding of the jewel, and that I might yet rise
from the table a winner. It was but a frail hope, and quickly dashed; for
when I had smoothed the creases and spread out the piece of paper in the
candle-light, there was nothing to be seen except a few verses from the
Psalms of David. The paper was yellow, and showed a lattice of folds
where it had been pressed into the locket; but the handwriting, though
small, was clear and neat, and there was no mistaking a word of what was
there set down. 'Twas so short, I could read it at once:

The days of our age are threescore years and ten;
And though men be so strong that they come
To fourscore years, yet is their strength then
But labour and sorrow, so soon passeth it
Away, and we are gone.
--Psalm 90, 21

And as for me, my feet are almost gone;
My treadings are wellnigh slipped.
--73, 6

But let not the waterflood drown me; neither let
The deep swallow me up.
--69, 11

So, going through the vale of misery, I shall
Use it for a well, till the pools are filled
With water.
--84, 14

For thou hast made the North and the South:
Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in thy name.
--89, 6

So here was an end to great hopes, and I was after all to leave the vault
no richer than I had entered it. For look at it as I might, I could not
see that these verses could ever lead to any diamond; and though I might
otherwise have thought of ciphers or secret writing, yet, remembering
what Mr. Glennie had said, that Blackbeard after his wicked life desired
to make a good end, and sent for a parson to confess him, I guessed that
such pious words had been hung round his neck as a charm to keep the
spirits of evil away from his tomb. I was disappointed enough, but before
I left picked up the beard from the floor, though it sent a shiver
through me to touch it, and put it back in its place on the dead man's
breast. I restored also such pieces of the coffin as I could get at, but
could not make much of it; so left things as they were, trusting that
those who came there next would think the wood had fallen to pieces by
natural decay. But the locket I kept, and hung about my neck under my
shirt; both as being a curious thing in itself, and because I thought
that if the good words inside it were strong enough to keep off bad
spirits from Blackbeard, they would be also strong enough to keep
Blackbeard from me.

When this was done the candle had burnt so low, that I could no longer
hold it in my fingers, and was forced to stick it on a piece of the
broken wood, and so carry it before me. But, after all, I was not to
escape from Blackbeard's clutches so easily; for when I came to the end
of the passage, and was prepared to climb up into the churchyard, I found
that the hole was stopped, and that there was no exit.

I understood now how it was that I had heard talking so long after the
company had left the vault; for it was clear that Ratsey had been as
good as his word, and that the falling in of the ground had been
repaired before the contraband-men went home that night. At first I made
light of the matter, thinking I should soon be able to dislodge this new
work, and so find a way out. But when I looked more narrowly into the
business, I did not feel so sure; for they had made a sound job of it,
putting one very heavy burial slab at the side to pile earth against
till the hole was full, and then covering it with another. These were
both of slate, and I knew whence they came; for there were a dozen or
more of such disused and weather-worn covers laid up against the north
side of the church, and every one of them a good burden for four men.
Yet I hoped by grouting at the earth below it to be able to dislodge the
stone at the side; but while I was considering how best to begin, the
candle flickered, the wick gave a sudden lurch to one side, and I was
left in darkness.

Thus my plight was evil indeed, for I had nothing now to burn to give me
light, and knew that 'twas no use setting to grout till I could see to go
about it. Moreover, the darkness was of that black kind that is never
found beneath the open sky, no, not even on the darkest night, but lurks
in close and covered places and strains the eyes in trying to see into
it. Yet I did not give way, but settled to wait for the dawn, which must,
I knew, be now at hand; for then I thought enough light would come
through the chinks of the tomb above to show me how to set to work. Nor
was I even much scared, as one who having been in peril of life from the
contraband-men for a spy, and in peril from evil ghosts for rifling
Blackbeard's tomb, deemed it a light thing to be left in the dark to wait
an hour till morning. So I sat down on the floor of the passage, which,
if damp, was at least soft, and being tired with what I had gone through,
and not used to miss a night's rest, fell straightway asleep.

How long I slept I cannot tell, for I had nothing to guide me to the
time, but woke at length, and found myself still in darkness. I stood up
and stretched my limbs, but did not feel as one refreshed by wholesome
sleep, but sick and tired with pains in back, arms, and legs, as if
beaten or bruised. I have said I was still in darkness, yet it was not
the blackness of the last night; and looking up into the inside of the
tomb above, I could see the faintest line of light at one corner, which
showed the sun was up. For this line of light was the sunlight, filtering
slowly through a crevice at the joining of the stones; but the sides of
the tomb had been fitted much closer than I reckoned for, and it was
plain there would never be light in the place enough to guide me to my
work. All this I considered as I rested on the ground, for I had sat down
again, feeling too tired to stand. But as I kept my eye on the narrow
streak of light I was much startled, for I looked at the south-west
corner of the tomb, and yet was looking towards the sun. This I gathered
from the tone of the light; and although there was no direct outlet to
the air, and only a glimmer came in, as I have said, yet I knew certainly
that the sun was low in the west and falling full upon this stone.

Here was a surprise, and a sad one for me, for I perceived that I had
slept away a day, and that the sun was setting for another night. And yet
it mattered little, for night or daytime there was no light to help me in
this horrible place; and though my eyes had grown accustomed to the
gloom, I could make out nothing to show me where to work. So I took out
my tinder-box, meaning to fan the match into a flame, and to get at least
one moment's look at the place, and then to set to digging with my hands.

But as I lay asleep the top had been pressed off the box, and the tinder
got loose in my pocket; and though I picked the tinder out easily enough,
and got it in the box again, yet the salt damps of the place had soddened
it in the night, and spark by spark fell idle from the flint.

And then it was that I first perceived the danger in which I stood; for
there was no hope of kindling a light, and I doubted now whether even in
the light I could ever have done much to dislodge the great slab of
slate. I began also to feel very hungry, as not having eaten for
twenty-four hours; and worse than that, there was a parching thirst and
dryness in my throat, and nothing with which to quench it. Yet there was
no time to be lost if I was ever to get out alive, and so I groped with
my hands against the side of the grave until I made out the bottom edge
of the slab, and then fell to grubbing beneath it with my fingers. But
the earth, which the day before had looked light and loamy to the eye,
was stiff and hard enough when one came to tackle it with naked hands,
and in an hour's time I had done little more than further weary myself
and bruise my fingers.

Then I was forced to rest; and, sitting down on the ground, saw that the
glimmering streak of light had faded, and that the awful blackness of
the previous night was creeping up again. And now I had no heart to face
it, being cowed with hunger, thirst, and weariness; and so flung myself
upon my face, that I might not see how dark it was, and groaned for very
lowness of spirit. Thus I lay for a long time, but afterwards stood up
and cried aloud, and shrieked if anyone should haply hear me, calling to
Mr. Glennie and Ratsey, and even Elzevir, by name, to save me from this
awful place. But there came no answer, except the echo of my own voice
sounding hollow and far off down in the vault. So in despair I turned
back to the earth wall below the slab, and scrabbled at it with my
fingers, till my nails were broken and the blood ran out; having all the
while a sure knowledge, like a cord twisted round my head, that no effort
of mine could ever dislodge the great stone. And thus the hours passed,
and I shall not say more here, for the remembrance of that time is still
terrible, and besides, no words could ever set forth the anguish I then
suffered, yet did slumber come sometimes to my help; for even while I was
working at the earth, sheer weariness would overtake me, and I sank on to
the ground and fell asleep.

And still the hours passed, and at last I knew by the glimmer of light
in the tomb above that the sun had risen again, and a maddening thirst
had hold of me. And then I thought of all the barrels piled up in the
vault and of the liquor that they held; and stuck not because 'twas
spirit, for I would scarce have paused to sate that thirst even with
molten lead. So I felt my way down the passage back to the vault, and
recked not of the darkness, nor of Blackbeard and his crew, if only I
could lay my lips to liquor. Thus I groped about the barrels till near
the top of the stack my hand struck on the spile of a keg, and drawing
it, I got my mouth to the hold.

What the liquor was I do not know, but it was not so strong but that I
could swallow it in great gulps and found it less burning than my burning
throat. But when I turned to get back to the passage, I could not find
the outlet, and fumbled round and round until my brain was dizzy, and I
fell senseless to the ground.




CHAPTER 5

THE RESCUE

Shades of the dead, have I not heard your voices
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?--_Byron_


When I came to myself I was lying, not in the outer blackness of the
Mohune vault, not on a floor of sand; but in a bed of sweet clean linen,
and in a little whitewashed room, through the window of which the spring
sunlight streamed. Oh, the blessed sunshine, and how I praised God for
the light! At first I thought I was in my own bed at my aunt's house, and
had dreamed of the vault and the smugglers, and that my being prisoned in
the darkness was but the horror of a nightmare. I was for getting up, but
fell back on my pillow in the effort to rise, with a weakness and sick
languor which I had never known before. And as I sunk down, I felt
something swing about my neck, and putting up my hand, found 'twas
Colonel John Mohune's black locket, and so knew that part at least of
this adventure was no dream.

Then the door opened, and to my wandering thought it seemed that I was
back again in the vault, for in came Elzevir Block. Then I held up my
hands, and cried--

'O Elzevir, save me, save me; I am not come to spy.'

But he, with a kind look on his face, put his hand on my shoulder, and
pushed me gently back, saying--

'Lie still, lad, there is none here will hurt thee, and drink this.'

He held out to me a bowl of steaming broth, that filled the room with a
savour sweeter, ten thousand times, to me than every rose and lily of the
world; yet would not let me drink it at a gulp, but made me sip it with a
spoon like any baby. Thus while I drank, he told me where I was, namely,
in an attic at the Why Not?, but would not say more then, bidding me get
to sleep again, and I should know all afterwards. And so it was ten days
or more before youth and health had their way, and I was strong again;
and all that time Elzevir Block sat by my bed, and nursed me tenderly as
a woman. So piece by piece I learned the story of how they found me.

'Twas Mr. Glennie who first moved to seek me; for when the second day
came that I was not at school, he thought that I was ill, and went to my
aunt's to ask how I did, as was his wont when any ailed. But Aunt Jane
answered him stiffly that she could not say how I did.

'For', says she, 'he is run off I know not where, but as he makes his
bed, must he lie on't; and if he run away for his pleasure, may stay away
for mine. I have been pestered with this lot too long, and only bore with
him for poor sister Martha's sake; but 'tis after his father that the
graceless lad takes, and thus rewards me.'

With that she bangs the door in the parson's face and off he goes to
Ratsey, but can learn nothing there, and so concludes that I have run
away to sea, and am seeking ship at Poole or Weymouth.

But that same day came Sam Tewkesbury to the Why Not? about nightfall,
and begged a glass of rum, being, as he said, 'all of a shake', and
telling a tale of how he passed the churchyard wall on his return from
work, and in the dusk heard screams and wailing voices, and knew 'twas
Blackbeard piping his lost Mohunes to hunt for treasure. So, though he
saw nothing, he turned tail and never stopped running till he stood at
the inn door. Then, forthwith, Elzevir leaves Sam to drink at the Why
Not? alone, and himself sets off running up the street to call for Master
Ratsey; and they two make straight across the sea-meadows in the dark.

'For as soon as I heard Tewkesbury tell of screams and wailings in the
air, and no one to be seen,' said Elzevir, 'I guessed that some poor soul
had got shut in the vault, and was there crying for his life. And to this
I was not guided by mother wit, but by a surer and a sadder token. Thou
wilt have heard how thirteen years ago a daft body we called Cracky Jones
was found one morning in the churchyard dead. He was gone missing for a
week before, and twice within that week I had sat through the night upon
the hill behind the church, watching to warn the lugger with a flare she
could not put in for the surf upon the beach. And on those nights, the
air being still though a heavy swell was running, I heard thrice or more
a throttled scream come shivering across the meadows from the graveyard.
Yet beyond turning my blood cold for a moment, it gave me little trouble,
for evil tales have hung about the church; and though I did not set much
store by the old yarns of Blackbeard piping up his crew, yet I thought
strange things might well go on among the graves at night. And so I never
budged, nor stirred hand or foot to save a fellow-creature in his agony.

'But when the surf fell enough for the boats to get ashore, and Greening
held a lantern for me to jump down into the passage, after we had got the
side out of the tomb, the first thing the light fell on at the bottom
was a white face turned skyward. I have not forgot that, lad, for 'twas
Cracky Jones lay there, with his face thin and shrunk, yet all the doited
look gone out of it. We tried to force some brandy in his mouth, but he
was stark and dead; with knees drawn up towards his head, so stiff we had
to lift him doubled as he was, and lay him by the churchyard wall for
some of us to find next day. We never knew how he got there, but guessed
that he had hung about the landers some night when they ran a cargo, and
slipped in when the watchman's back was turned. Thus when Sam Tewkesbury
spoke of screams and waitings, and no one to be seen, I knew what 'twas,
but never guessed who might be shut in there, not knowing thou wert gone
amissing. So ran to Ratsey to get his help to slip the side stone off,
for by myself I cannot stir it now, though once I did when I was younger;
and from him learned that thou wert lost, and knew whom we should find
before we got there.'

I shuddered while Elzevir talked, for I thought how Cracky Jones had
perhaps hidden behind the self-same coffin that sheltered me, and how
narrowly I had escaped his fate. And that old story came back into my
mind, how, years ago, there once arose so terrible a cry from the vault
at service-time, that parson and people fled from the church; and I
doubted not now that some other poor soul had got shut in that awful
place, and was then calling for help to those whose fears would not let
them listen.

'There we found thee,' Elzevir went on, 'stretched out on the sand,
senseless and far gone; and there was something in thy face that made me
think of David when he lay stretched out in his last sleep. And so I put
thee on my shoulder and bare thee back, and here thou art in David's
room, and shalt find board and bed with me as long as thou hast mind
to.' We spoke much together during the days when I was getting
stronger, and I grew to like Elzevir well, finding his grimness was but
on the outside, and that never was a kinder man. Indeed, I think that my
being with him did him good; for he felt that there was once more
someone to love him, and his heart went out to me as to his son David.
Never once did he ask me to keep my counsel as to the vault and what I
had seen there, knowing, perhaps, he had no need, for I would have died
rather than tell the secret to any. Only, one day Master Ratsey, who
often came to see me, said--

'John, there is only Elzevir and I who know that you have seen the
inside of our bond-cellar; and 'tis well, for if some of the landers
guessed, they might have ugly ways to stop all chance of prating. So
keep our secret tight, and we'll keep yours, for "he that refraineth his
lips is wise".'

I wondered how Master Ratsey could quote Scripture so pat, and yet cheat
the revenue; though, in truth, 'twas thought little sin at Moonfleet to
run a cargo; and, perhaps, he guessed what I was thinking, for he added--

'Not that a Christian man has aught to be ashamed of in landing a cask of
good liquor, for we read that when Israel came out of Egypt, the chosen
people were bid trick their oppressors out of jewels of silver and jewels
of gold; and among those cruel taskmasters, some of the wont must
certainly have been the tax-gatherers.'

*       *       *       *       *

The first walk I took when I grew stronger and was able to get about was
up to Aunt Jane's, notwithstanding she had never so much as been to ask
after me all these days. She knew, indeed, where I was, for Ratsey had
told her I lay at the Why Not?, explaining that Elzevir had found me one
night on the ground famished and half-dead, yet not saying where. But my
aunt greeted me with hard words, which I need not repeat here; for,
perhaps, she meant them not unkindly, but only to bring me back again to
the right way. She did not let me cross the threshold, holding the door
ajar in her hand, and saying she would have no tavern-loungers in her
house, but that if I liked the Why Not? so well, I could go back there
again for her. I had been for begging her pardon for playing truant; but
when I heard such scurvy words, felt the devil rise in my heart, and only
laughed, though bitter tears were in my eyes. So I turned my back upon
the only home that I had ever known, and sauntered off down the village,
feeling very lone, and am not sure I was not crying before I came again
to the Why Not?

Then Elzevir saw that my face was downcast, and asked what ailed me, and
so I told him how my aunt had turned me away, and that I had no home to
go to. But he seemed pleased rather than sorry, and said that I must come
now and live with him, for he had plenty for both; and that since chance
had led him to save my life, I should be to him a son in David's place.
So I went to keep house with him at the Why Not? and my aunt sent down my
bag of clothes, and would have made over to Elzevir the pittance that my
father left for my keep, but he said it was not needful, and he would
have none of it.




CHAPTER 6

AN ASSAULT

Surely after all,
The noblest answer unto such
Is perfect stillness when they brawl--_Tennyson_


I have more than once brought up the name of Mr. Maskew; and as I shall
have other things to tell of him later on, I may as well relate here what
manner of man he was. His stature was but medium, not exceeding five feet
four inches, I think; and to make the most of it, he flung his head far
back, and gave himself a little strut in walking. He had a thin face with
a sharp nose that looked as if it would peck you, and grey eyes that
could pierce a millstone if there was a guinea on the far side of it. His
hair, for he wore his own, had been red, though it was now grizzled; and
the colour of it was set down in Moonfleet to his being a Scotchman, for
we thought all Scotchmen were red-headed. He was a lawyer by profession,
and having made money in Edinburgh, had gone so far south as Moonfleet to
get quit, as was said, of the memories of rascally deeds. It was about
four years since he bought a parcel of the Mohune Estate, which had been
breaking up and selling piecemeal for a generation; and on his land stood
the Manor House, or so much of it as was left. Of the mansion I have
spoken before. It was a very long house of two storeys, with a projecting
gable and doorway in the middle, and at each end gabled wings running out
crosswise. The Maskews lived in one of these wings, and that was the only
habitable portion of the place; for as to the rest, the glass was out of
the windows, and in some places the roofs had fallen in. Mr. Maskew made
no attempt to repair house or grounds, and the bough of the great cedar
which the snows had brought down in '49 still blocked the drive. The
entrance to the house was through the porchway in the middle, but more
than one tumble-down corridor had to be threaded before one reached
the inhabited wing; while fowls and pigs and squirrels had possession of
the terrace lawns in front. It was not for want of money that Maskew let
things remain thus, for men said that he was rich enough, only that his
mood was miserly; and perhaps, also, it was the lack of woman's company
that made him think so little of neatness and order. For his wife was
dead; and though he had a daughter, she was young, and had not yet weight
enough to make her father do things that he did not choose.

Till Maskew came there had been none living in the Manor House for a
generation, so the village children used the terrace for a playground,
and picked primroses in the woods; and the men thought they had a right
to snare a rabbit or shoot a pheasant in the chase. But the new owner
changed all this, hiding gins and spring-guns in the coverts, and nailing
up boards on the trees to say he would have the law of any that
trespassed. So he soon made enemies for himself, and before long had
everyone's hand against him. Yet he preferred his neighbour's enmity to
their goodwill, and went about to make it more bitter by getting himself
posted for magistrate, and giving out that he would put down the
contraband thereabouts. For no one round Moonfleet was for the Excise;
but farmers loved a glass of Schnapps that had never been gauged, and
their wives a piece of fine lace from France. And then came the affair
between the _Elector_ and the ketch, with David Block's death; and after
that they said it was not safe for Maskew to walk at large, and that he
would be found some day dead on the down; but he gave no heed to it, and
went on as if he had been a paid exciseman rather than a magistrate.

When I was a little boy the Manor woods were my delight, and many a sunny
afternoon have I sat on the terrace edge looking down over the village,
and munching red quarantines from the ruined fruit gardens. And though
this was now forbidden, yet the Manor had still a sweeter attraction to
me than apples or bird-batting, and that was Grace Maskew. She was an
only child, and about my own age, or little better, at the time of which
I am speaking. I knew her, because she went every day to the old
almshouses to be taught by the Reverend Mr. Glennie, from whom I also
received my schooling. She was tall for her age, and slim, with a thin
face and a tumble of tawny hair, which flew about her in a wind or when
she ran. Her frocks were washed and patched and faded, and showed more of
her arms and legs than the dressmaker had ever intended, for she was a
growing girl, and had none to look after her clothes. She was a favourite
playfellow with all, and an early choice for games of 'prisoner's base',
and she could beat most of us boys at speed. Thus, though we all hated
her father, and had for him many jeering titles among ourselves; yet we
never used an evil nickname nor a railing word against him when she was
by, because we liked her well.

There were a half-dozen of us boys, and as many girls, whom Mr. Glennie
used to teach; and that you may see what sort of man Maskew was, I will
tell you what happened one day in school between him and the parson. Mr.
Glennie taught us in the almshouses; for though there were now no
bedesmen, and the houses themselves were fallen to decay, yet the little
hall in which the inmates had once dined was still maintained, and served
for our schoolroom. It was a long and lofty room, with a high wainscot
all round it, a carved oak screen at one end, and a broad window at the
other. A very heavy table, polished by use, and sadly besmirched with
ink, ran down the middle of the hall with benches on either side of it
for us to use; and a high desk for Mr. Glennie stood under the window at
the end of the room. Thus we were sitting one morning with our
summing-slates and grammars before us when the door in the screen opens
and Mr. Maskew enters.

I have told you already of the verses which Mr. Glennie wrote for David
Block's grave; and when the floods had gone down Ratsey set up the
headstone with the poetry carved on it. But Maskew, through not going to
church, never saw the stone for weeks, until one morning, walking through
the churchyard, he lighted on it, and knew the verses for Mr. Glennie's.
So 'twas to have it out with the parson that he had come to school this
day; and though we did not know so much then, yet guessed from his
presence that something was in the wind, and could read in his face that
he was very angry. Now, for all that we hated Maskew, yet were we glad
enough to see him there, as hoping for something strange to vary the
sameness of school, and scenting a disturbance in the air. Only Grace was
ill at ease for fear her father should say something unseemly, and kept
her head down with shocks of hair falling over her book, though I could
see her blushing between them. So in vapours Maskew, and with an angry
glance about him makes straight for the desk where our master sits at the
top of the room.

For a moment Mr. Glennie, being shortsighted, did not see who 'twas; but
as his visitor drew near, rose courteously to greet him.

'Good day to you, Mister Maskew,' says he, holding out his hand.

But Maskew puts his arms behind his back and bubbles out, 'Hold not out
your hand to me lest I spit on it. 'Tis like your snivelling cant to
write sweet psalms for smuggling rogues and try to frighten honest men
with your judgements.'

At first Mr. Glennie did not know what the other would be at, and
afterwards understanding, turned very pale; but said as a minister he
would never be backward in reproving those whom he considered in the
wrong, whether from the pulpit or from the gravestone. Then Maskew
flies into a great passion, and pours out many vile and insolent words,
saying Mr. Glennie is in league with the smugglers and fattens on their
crimes; that the poetry is a libel; and that he, Maskew, will have the
law of him for calumny.

After that he took Grace by the arm, and bade her get hat and cape and
come with him. 'For', says he, 'I will not have thee taught any more by a
psalm-singing hypocrite that calls thy father murderer.' And all the
while he kept drawing up closer to Mr. Glennie, until the two stood very
near each other.

There was a great difference between them; the one short and blustering,
with a red face turned up; the other tall and craning down, ill-clad,
ill-fed, and pale. Maskew had in his left hand a basket, with which he
went marketing of mornings, for he made his own purchases, and liked
fish, as being cheaper than meat. He had been chaffering with the
fishwives this very day, and was bringing back his provend with him when
he visited our school.

Then he said to Mr. Glennie: 'Now, Sir Parson, the law has given into
Your fool's hands a power over this churchyard, and 'tis your trade to
stop unseemly headlines from being set up within its walls, or once set
up, to turn them out forthwith. So I give you a week's grace, and if
tomorrow sennight yon stone be not gone, I will have it up and flung in
pieces outside the wall.'

Mr. Glennie answered him in a low voice, but quite clear, so that we
could hear where we sat: 'I can neither turn the stone out myself, nor
stop you from turning it out if you so mind; but if you do this thing,
and dishonour the graveyard, there is One stronger than either you or I
that must be reckoned with.'

I knew afterwards that he meant the Almighty, but thought then that
'twas of Elzevir he spoke; and so, perhaps, did Mr. Maskew, for he fell
into a worse rage, thrust his hand in the basket, whipped out a great
sole he had there, and in a twinkling dashes it in Mr. Glennie's face,
with a 'Then, take that for an unmannerly parson, for I would not foul my
fist with your mealy chops.'

But to see that stirred my choler, for Mr. Glennie was weak as wax, and
would never have held up his hand to stop a blow, even were he strong as
Goliath. So I was for setting on Maskew, and being a stout lad for my
age, could have had him on the floor as easy as a baby; but as I rose
from my seat, I saw he held Grace by the hand, and so hung back for a
moment, and before I got my thoughts together he was gone, and I saw the
tail of Grace's cape whisk round the screen door.

A sole is at the best an ugly thing to have in one's face, and this sole
was larger than most, for Maskew took care to get what he could for his
money, so it went with a loud smack on Mr. Glennie's cheek, and then fell
with another smack on the floor. At this we all laughed, as children
will, and Mr. Glennie did not check us, but went back and sat very quiet
at his desk; and soon I was sorry I had laughed, for he looked sad, with
his face sanded and a great red patch on one side, and beside that the
fin had scratched him and made a blood-drop trickle down his cheek. A few
minutes later the thin voice of the almshouse clock said twelve, and away
walked Mr. Glennie without his usual 'Good day, children', and there was
the sole left lying on the dusty floor in front of his desk.

It seemed a shame so fine a fish should be wasted, so I picked it up and
slipped it in my desk, sending Fred Burt to get his mother's gridiron
that we might grill it on the schoolroom fire. While he was gone I went
out to the court to play, and had not been there five minutes when back
comes Maskew through our playground without Grace, and goes into the
schoolroom. But in the screen at the end of the room was a chink, against
which we used to hold our fingers on bright days for the sun to shine
through, and show the blood pink; so up I slipped and fixed my eye to the
hole, wanting to know what he was at. He had his basket with him, and I
soon saw he had come back for the sole, not having the heart to leave so
good a bit of fish. But look where he would, he could not find it, for he
never searched my desk, and had to go off with a sour countenance; but
Fred Burt and I cooked the sole, and found it well flavoured, for all it
had given so much pain to Mr. Glennie.

After that Grace came no more to school, both because her father had
said she should not, and because she was herself ashamed to go back
after what Maskew had done to Mr. Glennie. And then it was that I took to
wandering much in the Manor woods, having no fear of man-traps, for I
knew their place as soon as they were put down, but often catching sight
of Grace, and sometimes finding occasion to talk with her. Thus time
passed, and I lived with Elzevir at the Why Not?, still going to school
of mornings, but spending the afternoons in fishing, or in helping him
in the garden, or with the boats. As soon as I got to know him well, I
begged him to let me help run the cargoes, but he refused, saying I was
yet too young, and must not come into mischief. Yet, later, yielding to
my importunity, he consented; and more than one dark night I was in the
landing-boats that unburdened the lugger, though I could never bring
myself to enter the Mohune vault again, but would stand as sentry at the
passage-mouth. And all the while I had round my neck Colonel John
Mohune's locket, and at first wore it next myself, but finding it black
the skin, put it between shirt and body-jacket. And there by dint of
wear it grew less black, and showed a little of the metal underneath,
and at last I took to polishing it at odd times, until it came out quite
white and shiny, like the pure silver that it was. Elzevir had seen this
locket when he put me to bed the first time I came to the Why Not? and
afterwards I told him whence I got it; but though we had it out more
than once of an evening, we could never come at any hidden meaning.
Indeed, we scarce tried to, judging it to be certainly a sacred charm to
keep evil spirits from Blackbeard's body.




CHAPTER 7

AN AUCTION

What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned--_Shakespeare_


One evening in March, when the days were lengthening fast, there came a