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 Mohun vault, not on a floor of sand, but in a bed of sweet clean linen and in a little white-washed room, through the window of which the spring-sun light streamed. O, 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 forgetting up, but fell back on my pillow in the effort to rise, with the weakness and sick linger which I had never known before. And as I sunk down I felt something swing about my neck, and putting up my hand, found Twizz Colonel John Mohun's black locket, and so knew that part, at least, of this adventure was no dream. Then the door opened, and to my wondering thought it seemed that I was back again in the vault.   He held out to me a bowl of steaming broth that filled the room with his savor, 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 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 Elzavar 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. Glinney who first moved to seek me, for when the second day came that I was not at school he thought that I was ill, as was his want when any held, 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 he must lie in it, and if he run away for his pleasure may stay away from mine. I have been pestered with this lot too long and only bore with him for poor Sister Martha's sake, but his 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 Ratsy, but can learn nothing there, and so concludes that I have run away to sea, and am seeking ship at pool or way-mouth. But that same day came Sam Tuxbury 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 in his return from work, and Newt was blackbeard piping his lost mohoons to hunt for treasure. So, though he saw nothing, he turned tail and never stopped running till he stood at the end door, then, forthwith, Elzavar leaves Sam to drink at the why-not alone, and himself sets off running up the street to call for Master Ratsy, and they too make straight across the sea meadows in the dark.  That will have heard how, thirteen years ago, a daft body we called Crackey 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. And 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 was 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-faced herned skyward. I have not forgot that, lad. Fort was quacky-jones lay there, with his face thin and shrunk, yet all the doided look gone out of it. We tried to force some brandy in his mouth, but he was stark and dead, with knees drawn up toward 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 the next day. We never knew how he got there, but guess that he had hung about the landers some night when they ran a cargo, and slipped in when the watchman's back was turned. That's when Sam Tewkesbury spoke of screams and wailings, and no one to be seen. I knew what twas, but never guessed who might be shut in there, not knowing thou art 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 art lost, and knew whom we would find before we got there. I shuttered while Elzervar talked, for I thought how Crackey 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 person and people fled from the church, and I doubted not now that same other poor soul had gotten shut in that awful place, and was then calling for help to those whose fears would not let them listen. There we found the Elzervar 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 hear thou art in David's room, and shout find board in bed with me as long as thou hast mine to. We spoke much together during the days when I was getting stronger, and I grew to like Elzervar 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 Ratsy, who often came to see me, said, John, there is only Elzervar and I who know that you have seen the inside of our bond-seller, and his well, for if some of the lander's guests they might have ugly ways to stop all chance of pradding. So keep our secret tight, and we'll keep yours, for he that refrained with his lips is wise. I wondered how Master Ratsy could quote scripture so pat and yet cheat the revenue, though in truth twist thought little sin at moon-fleet to run a cargo, and perhaps he guessed what I was thanking for, he added. Not that a Christian man has ought 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 task-masters some of the want 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 Ratsy had told her I lay at the why-not, explaining that Elzavar 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 jar in her hand, 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 forbegging 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 I'm not sure I was not crying before I came again to the why-not. Then Elzavar I saw that my face was downcast and asked me 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 the house with him at the why-not, and my aunt sent down my bag of clothes, and would have made over to Elzavar the pittance that my father left for my keep, but he said it was not needful, and he would have none of it. CHAPTER VI. MOONFLEET. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Mr. Andy. MOONFLEET. By J. Meade Faulkner. CHAPTER VI. An Assault. Surely after all, the noblest answer unto such is perfect stillness when they brawl. Tennison. 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 gray 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 color of it was set down in Moonfleet to his being a Scotchman, for we thought all Scotchmen were red-headed. He was a lawyer-bride profession, and having made money in Neenburg had gone so far south as Moonfleet to get quit, as was said, of the memories of Raskley Deeds. It was about four years since he bought a parcel of the Mohyun 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 of before, it was a very long house of two stories with the projecting gable and doorway in the middle, and at each end gabled wings running out crosswise. The masquilles 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. Masquew made no attempt to repair house or grounds, and the bow of the great cedar which the snow had brought down in forty-nine still blocked the drive. The entrance to the house was through the porch way in the middle, but more than one tumbled down-quarter had to be threaded before one reached the inhabited wing, while fowls and pigs and squirrels had possession of their terraced lawns in front. It was not for want of money that Masquew 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 wait enough to make her father do things that he did not choose. Till Masquew came there had been none living in the manor house for a generation, so the village children used to terrace for a playground, and picked prim roses 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 that he would have the law of any that trespassed. So he soon made enemies for himself, and before long had every one's hand against him, yet he preferred his neighbor's enmity to their good will, 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 the glassish knobs 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 catch with David Brock's death. And after that they said it was not safe for Masquew 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 manner 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 is now forbidden, yet the manner had still a sweeter attraction to me than apples or bird-batting, and that was Grace Masquew. She was an only child, and about my own age, or a little better, at the time of which I am speaking. I knew her because she went every day to the old alms-houses to be taught by the Reverend Mr. Gleaney, from whom I also received my schooling. She was tall for her age and slim, with a thin face and a tumble of tiny 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. Gleaney used to teach, and that you may see what sort of man Masquew was, I will tell you what happened one day in school between him and the parson. Mr. Gleaney taught us in the alms-houses, for though there were now no bedsmen, 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 wanescoat all around it, a carved oak screen at one end and a broad window at the other. A very heavy table polished by use, and sadly besmurred with ink, and down the middle of the hall with benches on either side of it for us to use. And a high desk for Mr. Gleaney 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. Masquew enters. I have told you already of the verses which Mr. Gleaney wrote for David Bloch's grave, and when the floods had gone down, rats he set up the headstone with a poetry carved on it. But Masquew, 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. Gleaney's. So it was to have it out with the person that he had come to school this day, and though we did not know so much then, yet guess 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 Masquew, yet were we glad enough to see him there, as hoping for something strange to vary the sameness of school, and senting 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 vapors Masquew, and with an angry glance about him, make straight for the desk where our master sits at the top of the room. For a moment Mr. Gleaney, being short-sighted, did not see who twas, but as his visitors drew near, rose courteously to greet him. "'Good day to you, Mr. Masquew,' he said, holding out his hand. But Masquew put his arms behind his back, and bubbled out, "'Hold not out your hand to me, lest I spit on it, just like your sniveling can't to write sweet psalms for smuggling rogues, and to frighten honest men with your judgements?' At first Mr. Gleaney 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 Masquew flies into a great passion, and pours out many vile and insolent words, saying Mr. Gleaney is in the league with the smugglers and fattens on their crimes. That the poetry is a libel, and that he, Masquew, will have the law of him for calamity. After that he took grace by the arm, and bade herred, 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. Gleaney until the stew stood very near each other. There was a great difference between them, the one short emblustering with a red face turned up, the other tall and craning down. Ill-clad, ill-fed, and pale. Masquew had in his left hand a basket, with which he went to 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 proven with him when he visited our school. Then he said to Mr. Gleaney, Now, sir Parson, the light has given into your fool's hands a power over this church-art, and is your trade to stop unseemly headlines from being set up within its walls, or one set up to turn them forthwith, so I give you a week's grace, and if to-morrow send night yawn, stone not be gone, I will have it up and flung into pieces outside the wall. Mr. Gleaney 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 dishonor 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 it was of Elsevier. 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 soul he had there, and in a twinkling dashes it in Mr. Gleaney's face, with a, then take that for an unmanorly Parson, for I would not foul my fist with your mealy chops. But to see that stirred my coaler for Mr. Gleaney was weak as his wax, and would never have held up his hand to stop a blow, even where he as 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 I 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 soul is at best an ugly thing to have in one's face, and this soul 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. Gleaney's cheek, and then fell with another smack on the floor. At this we all laughed as children will, and Mr. Gleaney 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 in 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 alms-house clock said twelve, and away walked Mr. Gleaney without his usual good-day children, and there was the soul left lying on the dusty floor in front of his desk. It seemed ashamed 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 school room 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 school room, 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 to pink, so up I slipped and fixed my eye on 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 soul 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 the sour countenance, but Fred Burt and I cooked the soul and found it well flavored, for all it had given so much pain to Mr. Gleaney. After that grace came no more to school. But because her father had said she should not, and because she was herself ashamed to go back after what Maskew had done to Mr. Gleaney. And then it was that I took the wandering much in the manner woods, having no fear of mantraps, 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 Elziver at the why-not, still going to school of morning, 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 run the cargos, 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 Mohyun vault again, but would stand as sentry at the passage-mouth. And all the while I had round my neck Colonel John Mohyun's locket, and at first wore it next to myself, but finding it black in the skin, put it between shirt and body-jacket, and thereby dent 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 it was. Elziver 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 to 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 VII An auction. What if my house be troubled with a rat, and I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats to have it bane'd? Shakespeare. One evening in March when the days were lengthening fast, there came a messenger from Dorchester and brought printed notices for fixing to the shutters of the Why Not? and to the church door, which said that in a week's time the bailiff of the Duchy of Cornwall would visit Moonfleet. This bailiff was an important person, and his visit stood as events in village history. Once in five years he made a perambulation or journey through the whole Duchy, inspecting all the royal property and arranging for new leases. His visits to Moonfleet were generally short enough, for owing to the Mahoons owning all the land, the only Duchy estate there was the Why Not? and the only duty of the bailiff to renew that five-year lease under which Locke's had held the inn father and son for generations. But for all that the business was not performed without ceremony, for there was a solemn show of putting up the lease of the inn to the highest bidder, though it was well understood that no one except Elsevier would make an offer. So one morning, a week later, I went up to the top end of the village to watch for the bailiff's pochets, and about eleven of the forenoons saw it coming down the hill with four horses and two pastillions. Presently it came past, and I saw there were two men in it, a clerk sitting with his back to the horses, and in the seat opposite a little man in a periwig whom I took for the bailiff. When I ran down to my aunt's house, for Elsevier had asked me to beg one of her best winter candles for a purpose which I will explain presently. I had not seen Aunt Jane, except in church, since the day that she dismissed me, but she was no stiffer than usual, and gave me the candle readily enough. There, she said, take it, and I wish it may bring light into your dark heart, and show you what a wicked thing it is to leave your own kith and kin, and go to dwell in the tavern. I was for saying that it was kith and kin that left me, and not I them, and as for living in a tavern, it was better to live there than nowhere at all, as she would wish me to do in turning me out of her house. But did not, and only thanked her for the candle, and was off. When I came to the inn there was the post-chase in front of the door, the horses being led away to bait, and a little group of villagers standing round, for though the auction of the why-not was in itself a trite thing with a foregone conclusion, yet the bailiff's visit always stirred some show of interest. There were a few children, with their noses flattened against the windows of the parlour, and inside were Mr. Bailiff and Mr. Clarke hard at work on their dinner. Mr. Bailiff, who was, as I guessed, the little man in the periwig, sat at the top of the table, and Mr. Clarke sat at the bottom, and on chairs were placed their hats and travelling cloaks and bundles of papers tied together with green tape. You may be sure that Elsevier had a good dinner for them, with hot rabbit pie and cold round of brawn, and a piece of blue viny, which Mr. Bailiff ate heartily, but his Clarke would not touch, saying he had his leaf-chewed soap. There was also a bottle of ararat milk, and a flagon of ale, for we were afraid to set French wines before them, lest they should fall to wondering how they were come by. Elsevier took the candle, chiding me a little for being late, and set it in a brass candlestick in the middle of the table. Then Mr. Clarke takes a little rule from his pocket, measures an inch down on the candle, sticks into the grease at that point a scarf pin with an onyx head that Elsevier lent him, and lights the wick. Now the reason of this was that the custom ran in Moonfleet when either land or lease was put up to bidding to stick a pin in a candle, and so long as the pin held firm it was open to any to make a better offer. But when the flame burnt down and the pin fell out, then land or lease fell to the last bidder. So after dinner was over, and the table cleared, Mr. Clarke takes out a roll of papers, and reads a legal description of the why-not, calling it the Mahoon Arms, an excellent mess-wage or tenement now used as a tavern, and speaking of the convenient paddocks or parcels of grazing land at the back of it called Moon's lease, amounting to sixteen acres more or less. Then he invites the company to make an offer of rent for such a desirable property under a five-year lease, and as Elsevier and I are the only company present, the bidding is soon done, for Elsevier offers a rent of twelve a year, which has always been the value of the why-not. The Clarke makes a note of this, but the business is not over yet, for we must wait till the pin drops out of the candle before the lease is finally made out. So the men fell to smoking to pass the time, till there could not have been more than ten minutes candle to burn, and Mr. Baeliff, with a glass of ararat milk in his hand, was saying, "'Tis a curious and fine tap of hollands you keep here, Master Block,' when in walked Mr. Maskew. A thunderbolt would not have astonished me so much as did his appearance, and Elsevier's face grew black as night, but the Baeliff and Clarke showed no surprise, not knowing the terms on which persons in our village stood to one another, and thinking it natural that someone should come in to see the pin drop at the end of an ancient custom. Indeed, Maskew seemed to know the Baeliff, for he passed the time of day with him, and was then for sitting down at the table without taking any notice of Elsevier or me.  I knew what he meant, for on that table they had laid out David's body, and with that he struck his fist upon the board so smart as to make the Baeliff jump and nearly bring the pin out of the candle. "'Hey, day, sirs,' says Mr. Baeliff astonished, "'let us have no brawling here. The more so as this worshipful gentleman is a magistrate and something of a friend of mine.' Yet Maskew refrained from sitting, but stood by the Baeliff's chair, turning white and not red as he did with Mr. Gleny, and muttered something that he had as leaf stand as sit, and that it should soon be Block's turn to ask sitting room of him. I was wondering what possibly could have brought Maskew there when the Baeliff, who was ill at ease, said, "'Come, Mr. Clarke, the pin hath but another minute's hold. Rehearse what has been done, for I must get this lease delivered, and off to Bridport where much business waits.' So the Clarke read in a sing-song voice that the property of the duchy of Cornwall called the Mahoon Arms, an inn or tavern, with all its land, tenements, and appurtenances, situate in the parish of St. Sebastian Moonfleet, having been offered on lease for five years, would be led to Elsevier Block at a rent of twelve per annum, unless anyone offered a higher rent before the pin fell from the candle. There was no one to make another offer, and the Baeliff said to Elsevier, "'Tell them to have the horses round. The pin will be out in a minute, and will save time.' So Elsevier gave the order, and then we all stood round in silence, waiting for the pin to fall. The grease had burnt down to the mark, or almost below it, as it appeared, but just where the pin stuck in there was a little lump of harder tallow that held bravely out, refusing to be melted. The Baeliff gave a stamp of impatience with his foot under the table, as though he hoped thus to shake out the pin, and then a little dry voice came from Maskew, saying, "'I offer thirteen a year for the inn.'" This fell upon us with so much surprise that all looked round, seeking as it were some other speaker, and never thinking that it could be Maskew. Elsevier was the first, I believe, to fully understand, was he, and without turning to look at Baeliff or Maskew, but having his elbows on the table, his face between his hands, and looking straight out to see, said in a sturdy voice, "'I offer twenty.'" The words were scarce out of his mouth when Maskew caps them with twenty-one, and so in less than a minute the rent of the why-not was near doubled. Then the Baeliff looked from one to the other, not knowing what to make of it all, nor whether it was comedy or serious, and said, "'Kind sir, I warn you not to trifle. I have no time to waste in April fooling, and he who makes offers in sport will have to stand them in earnest.' But there was no lack of earnest in one at least of the men that he had before him, and the voice with which Elsevier said thirty was still sturdy. Maskew called thirty-one and forty-one, and Elsevier forty and fifty, and then I looked at the candle, and saw that the head of the pin was no longer level. It had sunk a little, a very little. The clerk awoke from his indifference, and was making notes of the bids with a squeaking quill. The Baeliff frowned as being puzzled, and thinking that none had a right to puzzle him. As for me, I could not sit still, but got on my feet, if so I might better bear the suspense. For I understood now that Maskew had made up his mind to turn Elsevier out, and that Elsevier was fighting for his home, his home, and had he not made it my home, too, and were we both to be made outcasts to please the spite of this mean little man? There were some more bids, and then I knew that Maskew was saying ninety-one, and saw the head of the pin was lower, the hard lump of tello in Aunt Jane's candle was thawing. The Baeliff struck in, I am mad, sirs, and you must block save your breath and spare your money, and if this worshipful gentleman must become innkeeper at any price, let him have the place in the devil's name, and I will give thee the mermaid at Bridport, with a snug parlour, and ten times the trade of this. Elsevier seemed not to hear what he said, but only called out a hundred, with his face still looking out to see, and the same sturdiness in his voice.  My breath came so fast that I was almost giddy, and I had to clench my hands to remind myself of where I was and what was going on. The bidders too were breathing hard. Elsevier had taken his head from his hands, and the eyes of all were on the pin. The lump of tallow was worn down now. It was hard to say why the pin did not fall. Maskew gulped out a hundred and eighty, and Elsevier said a hundred and ninety, and then the pin gave a lurch, and I thought the why-not was saved, though at the price of ruin. No, the pin had not fallen. There was a film that held it by the point, one second, only one second. Elsevier's breath, which was ready to outbid whatever Maskew said, caught in his throat with the catching pin, and Maskew sighed out two hundred before the pin patted on the bottom of the brass candlestick. The clerk forgot his master's presence and shot his notebook with a bang. Congratulations, sir, says he quite pert to Maskew. You are the landlord of the poorest pot-house in the duchy at two hundred a year. The bailiff paid no heed to what his man did, but took his periwig off and wiped his head. Well, I'm hanged, he said, and so the why-not was lost. Just as the last bid was given, Elsevier half rose from his chair, and for a moment I expected to see him spring like a wild beast on Maskew, but he said nothing and sat down again with the same stolid look on his face, and indeed it was perhaps well that he thus thought better of it. For Maskew stuck his hand into his bosom as the other rose, and though he withdrew it again when Elsevier got back to his chair, yet the front of his waistcoat was a little bulged, and, looking sideways, I saw the silver-shot butt of a pistol nestling far down against his white shirt. The bailiff was vexed, I think, that he had been betrayed into such strong words, for he tried at once to put on as indifferent an air as might be, saying in dry terms, well, gentlemen, there seems to be here some personal matter into which I shall not attempt to spy. Two hundred pounds more or less is but a flea-bite to the duchy, and if you, sir, turning to Maskew, wish later on to change your mind and be quit of the bargain, I shall not be the man to stand in your way. In any case, I will be time enough to seal the lease if I send it from London. I knew he said this, and hinted at delay, as wishing to do Elsevier a good turn, for his clerk had the lease already made out pat, and it only wanted the name and rent filled in to be sealed and signed. But, no, says Maskew, business is business, Mr. Bailiff, and the post uncertain to part so distant from the capital as these, so I'll thank you to make out the lease to me now, and on Mayday place me in possession. So be it, then, said the Bailiff a little testily, but blame me not for driving hard bargains, for the duchy whose servant I am, and he raised his hat, is no daughter of the horse-leach. Fill in the figures, Mr. Strutton, and let us away. So, Mr. Strutton, for that was Mr. Clark's name, scratches a bit with his quill on the parchment sheet to fill in the money, and then Maskew scratches his name, and Mr. Bailiff scratches his name, and Mr. Clark scratches again to witness Mr. Bailiff's name, and then Mr. Bailiff takes from his mails a little chagrin case, and out from the case comes Ceiling Wax and the travelling seal of the duchy. There was my aunt's best winter candle still burning away in the daylight, for no one had taken any thought to put it out, and Mr. Bailiff melts the wax at it till a drop of Ceiling Wax falls into the grease and makes a gutter down one side, and then there is a sweating of the parchment under the hot wax, and at last on goes the seal. It's signed, sealed, and delivered, says Mr. Clark, rolling up the sheet and handing it to Maskew, and Maskew takes and thrusts it into his bosom underneath his waistcoat front, all cheek by gel with that silver-hearted pistol whose butt I had seen before. The post-shays stood before the door, the horses were stamping on the cobblestones, and the harness jingled. Mr. Clark had carried out his mails, but Mr. Bailiff stopped for a moment as he flung the travelling cloak about his shoulders to say to Elzevir, Tut, man, take things not too hardly. Thou shalt have the mermaid at twenty a year, which will be worth ten times as much to thee as this dreary place, and canst send thy son to Bryson's school where they will make a scholar of him, for he is a brave lad. And he touched my shoulder and gave me a kindly look as he passed. I thank your worship, said Elzevir, for all your goodness, but when I quit this place I shall not set up my staff again at any indoor. Mr. Bailiff seemed nettle to see his offer made so little of, and left the room with a sniff. Then I wish you good day. Maskew had slipped out before him, and the children's noses left the window-pane as the great man walked down the steps. There was a little group to see the start, but it quickly melted, and before the clatter of hoofs died away the reports spread through the village that Maskew had turned Elzevir out of the foinot. For a long time after all had gone Elzevir sat at the table with his head between his hands, and I kept quiet also, both because I was myself sorry that we were to be sent adrift, and because I wished to show Elzevir that I felt for him in his troubles. But the young cannot enter fully into their elder's sorrows however much they may wish to, and after a time the silence pauled upon me. It was getting dusk, and the candle which bore itself so bravely through auction and lease-ceiling burnt low in the socket. A minute later the light gave some flickering flashes, failings, and sputters, and then the wick tottered and out popped the flame, leaving us with the chilly gray of a march-evening creeping up in the corners of the room. I could bear the gloom no longer, but made up the fire till the light danced ruddy across pewter and porcelain on the dresser. Come, master-block, I said, there is time enough before May Day to think what we shall do, so let us take a cup of tea, and after that I will play you a game of backgammon. But he still remained cast down and would say nothing, and as chance would have it, though I wished to let him win at backgammon, that so perhaps he might get cheered, yet do what I would that night I could not lose. So as his luck drew worse his moodiness increased, and at last he shut the board with a bang, saying in reference to that motto that ran round its edge, life is like a game of hazard, and surely none ever flung worse throes, or made so little of them as I. End of Chapter 7 Recording by Graham Redman All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Simon Evers Moonfleet by J. Meade Fultner Chapter 8 The Landing Let my lamp at midnight hour be seen in some high lonely tower. Milton Maskew got ugly looks from the men and sour words from the wives and went up through the village that afternoon. For all knew what he had done, and for many days after the auction he durst not show his face abroad. Yet Damon of Ringstave and some others of the land as men, who made it their business to keep an eye upon him, said that he had been twice to Weymouth of the evenings, and held converse there with Mr. Luckham of the Exis, and with Captain Henning who commanded the troopers then in quarters on the North. By degrees he got about, but how I do not know, that he had persuaded the Revenue to strike hard at the smugglers, and that a strong posse was to be held in readiness to take the landers in the act the next time they should try to run a cargo. Why Maskew should so put himself about to help the Revenue, I cannot tell, nor did anyone ever certainly find out. But some said it was out of sheer wantonness and a desire to hurt his neighbours, and others that he saw what an apt place this was for landing cargoes, and wished first to make a brave show of zeal for the Exis, and afterwards to get the whole of the contraband trade into his own hands. However that may be, I think he was certainly in league with the Revenue men, and more than once I saw him on the Maneterris with a spy-glass in his hand, and guessed that he was looking for the Lugger in the Offing. Now word was mostly given to the lander by safe hands of the night on which a cargo should be run, and then in the morning or afternoon the Lugger would come just near enough the land to be made out with glasses, and afterwards lie off again out of sight till nightfall. The nights chosen for such work were without moon, but as still as might be, so long as there was wind enough to fill the sails, and often the Lugger could be made out of each, but sometimes it was necessary to signal with flares though they were used as little as might be. Yet after there had been a long spell of rough weather, and a cargo had to be run at all hazards, I have known the boats come in even on the bright moonlight and take their risk. Porto has said the Exis slept sounder round us than anywhere in all the channel. These tales of Mascu's doings failed not to reach Xavier, and for some days he thought best not to move, though there was a cargo on the other side that wanted landing badly. But one evening, when he had won at Bat-Gammon, and was in an open mind, he took me into confidence setting down the dice-box on the table and saying, there is word come from the shippers that we must take a cargo, for they cannot keep the stuff by them longer at San Marlo. Now with this devil of the manor prowling round I dare not risk the job on Moonfleet nor yet stow the liquor in the vault. So I have told the Bonaventure to put her nose into this bay tomorrow afternoon that Mascu may see her well and then to lie out again to see, as she has done a hundred times before, but instead of waiting in the offing she will make straight-off up-channel to a little strip of shingle underneath her head. I nodded to show I knew the place, and he went on. Men used to choose that spot in good old times to beat the cargo before the passage to the vault was dug, and there is a work-time quarry they called Pygrove's Hole, not too far off up the down, and choked with brambles, where we can find shelter for a hundred kinks. So we will be under haul-head at five tomorrow morning with the pack-horses. I wish we could be earlier, for the sun rises thereabout, but the tide will not serve before. It was at that moment that I felt a cold touch on my shoulders as of the fresh air from outside, and thought beside I had a whiff of salt seaweed from the beach. So round I looked to see if a door or windows stood ajar. The window was tight enough and shutted to boot, but the door was not to be seen plainly for a wooden screen which parted it from the parlour, and was meant to keep off draughts. Yet I could just see a top corner of the door above the screen, and thought it was not fast. So up I got to shut it, for the nights were cold, but coming round the corner of the screen found that it was closed, and yet I could have sworn I saw the latch fall to its place as I walked towards it. Then I dashed forward, and in a trice had the door open and was in the street, but the night was moonless and black, and I neither saw nor heard or to stirring, save the gentle sea-wash on Moonfleet Beach beyond the salt meadows. Elsevier looked at me uneasily when I came back. What ails thee, boy? said he. I thought I heard someone at the door, I answered. Did you not feel a cold wind as if it was open? It is, but the night is sharp, the spring sets in very chill, except the boltons sip down again. And he flung a fresh log on the far, that sent a cloud of sparks crackling up the chimney and out into the room. Elsevier, I said, I think there was one listening at the door, and there may be others in the house, so before we sit again, let us take candle and go through the rooms to make sure none are prying on us. He laughed and said, Cross but the wind that blew the door open, but that I might do as I pleased.  And so we went all round the house together and found not so much as a mouse stirring. He laughed the more when we came back to the parlour. It is the cold as chilled thy heart and made the timid of that skulking rascal of the manor. There were me a glass of ararat milk and one for thyself and at us to bed. I had learned by this not to be afraid of the good liquor, and while we sat sipping it, Elsevier went on. There is a fortnight yet to run and then you and I should be cut adrift from our moorings. It's a cruel thing to see the doors of this house closed on me, where I am more, but I must see it. Yet let us not be too cast down but to try to make something even of this worst of throes. I was glad enough to hear him speak in these firmer strain, for I had seen what a sore thought it had been for these days past that he must leave the why not, and how it had often made him moody and downcast. We'll have no more of in keeping, he said. I've been sick and tired of it this many a day, and care not to see men abuse good liquor and addle their silly pates to fill my purse. And I have something, boy, put snug away in Dorches to town that will give us bread to eat and beer to drink, even if the throes run still due sace. But we must seek a roof to shelter us when the why not is shut, and his best we leave this moom fleet of ours for a season, till Maskew finds a rope send long enough to hang himself with all. So, when our work is done tomorrow night, we'll walk out along to Werth, and take a look at a cottage there that Damon spoke about, with a walled orchard of the back and fuchsia hedge in front. It is near the lobster inn and has a fine prospect of the sea, and if we live there, we will leave the vault alone a while, and use this pie-grave's hull for storehouse till the watch is relaxed. I did not answer, having my thoughts on other things, and he tossed off his liquor, saying, Thou art tired, so let's to bed for we shall get little sleep tomorrow night. It was true that I was tired, and yet I could not get to sleep, but tossed and turned in my bed for thinking of many things, and being vexed that we were to leave moom fleet. Yet mine was a selfish sorrow, for I had little thought for Elsevier and the pain that it must be to him to quit the why not. Nor yet was it the grief of leaving moom fleet that so troubled me, although that was the only place I had ever known. Ham seemed to me then, as now, the only spot on earth fit to be lived in. But the real care and canker was that I was going away from Grace Maskew, for since she had left school I had grown fond of her, and now that it was difficult to see her, I took the more pains to accomplish it, and met her sometimes in Manor Woods, and more than once, when Maskew was away, I had walked with her on Weather Beach Hill. So we bred up a boy and girl affection, and must need to pledge ourselves to be true to one another, not knowing what such silly words might mean. And I tell Grace all my secrets, not even accepting the doings of the contraband and the mahune vault and blackbird's locket. For I knew all was as safe with her as with me, and that our father could never wrack ought from her. Nay more, her bedroom was at the top of the gable wing of the Manor House, and looked right out to sea, and one clear night when our boat was coming late from fishing, I saw her candle burning there, and next day told her of it. And then she said that she would set a candle to burn before the pains on winter nights, and be a leading light for boats at sea. And so she did, and others beside me saw and used it, calling it Maskew's Match, and saying that it was the attorney sitting up all night to pour over ledgers fortune. So this night as I lay awake I vexed and vexed myself for thinking of her, and at last resolved to go up next morning to the Manor Woods and lie and wait for Grace to tell her what was up, and that we were going away to worth. Next day, the 16th of April, a day I've had cause to remember all my life. I played truant from Mr. Lenny, and by ten in the four noon found myself on the woods. There was a little dimple on the hillside above the house, green with bird-ox in summer and filled with dry leaves in winter, just big enough to hold one lying flat, and not so deep but that I could look over the lip of it and see the house without being seen. Then I went that day and lay down in the dry leaves to wait and watch for Grace. The morning was bright enough, the chills of the night before had given way to sunlight that seemed warm as summer, and yet had with it the soft freshness of spring. There was scarce a breath moving in the wood, though I could see the clouds of white dust stalking up the road that climbs ridged down, and the trees were green with buds and without leafage to keep the sunbeams from lighting up the ground below, which glowed with yellow king-cups. So I lay there for a long, long while and to make time pass quicker took from my bosom the silver locket and opening it read again the parchment which I had read times out of mind before and knew indeed by heart. The days of our age were three score years and ten and the rest. Now, whenever I handled the locket my thoughts were turned to Mahune's treasure and it was natural that it should be so for the locket reminded me of my first journey to the vault and I laughed at myself remembering how simple I had been and had hoped to find the place littered with diamonds and to see the gold lying packed in heaps. And thus for the hundredth time I came to rack my brain to know where the diamond could be hid and thought at last it must be buried in the churchyard because of the talk of Blackbeard being seen on wild nights digging there for his treasure. But then I reasoned that it was the contrabandiers who men had seen with spades when they were digging out the passage from the tomb to the vault and set them down for ghosts because they wrought it tonight. And when I was busy with such thoughts the door opened in the house below me and out came Grace with a hood on her head and a basket for wild flowers in her hand. I watched to see which way she would walk and as soon as she took the path that leads up Weather Beach made off through the dry bushwood to meet her for we had settled she should never go that road except when Maske was away. So there we met and spent an hour together on the hill though I shall not write here what we said because it was mostly silly stuff. She spoke much of the auction and of Elsevier leaving the why-not and though she never said a word against her father let me know what pain his doing gave her. But most she grieved that we were leaving and showed her grief in such pretty ways as may be almost glad to see her sorry. And from her I learned that Maske was indeed absent from home having been called away suddenly last night. The evening was so fine, he said, and this surprised me remembering how dark and cold it was with us that he must need to walk round the policies. But about nine o'clock came back and told her he had got a sudden call to business which would take him to Weymouth then and there. So to saddle, and off he went on his mare bidding grace not to look for him for two nights to come. I know not why it was, but what she said of Maske may be thoughtful and silent, and she too must be back home lest the old servant that kept house for them should say she'd been too long away. And so we parted. Then off I went through the woods and down the village street, but I passed my old home to Jane standing on the doorstep. I bade her good day and was running on to the why-not for I was late enough already, but she called me to her, seeming in a milder mood, and said she had something for me in the house. So left me standing while she went off to get it, and back she came and thrust into my hand a little prayer-book which I had often seen about the parlor in past days, saying, Here is a common prayer with thee, with thy clothes it was thy poor mother's and I pray may some day be as precious a balm to thee as it once was to that godly woman. With that she gave me the good day and I pocketed the little red leather-book which did indeed afterwards prove precious to me there not in the way she meant and ran down the street to the why-not. That same evening Elsevier and I left the why-not, went up through the village, climbed the down, and were at the brow by sunset. We had started earlier than we fixed the night before because word had come to Elsevier that morning that the tide called Goulda would serve for the beaching of the Bonaventure at three instead of five. It is a strange thing, the Goulda, and not even sailors can count closely with it. For on the Dorset coast the tide makes four times a day, twice with the common-flow and twice with the Goulda, and this last being shifty and uncertain as to time, flings out many a sea-wrecking. It was about seven o'clock when we were at the top of the hill and there were fifteen good miles to cover to get to Hawthead. Dusk was upon us before we had walked half an hour, but when the night fell it was not black as on the last evening but a deep sort of blue and the heat of the day did not die with the sun but left the air still warm and barmy. We trudged on in silence and were glad enough when we saw by a white stone here and there of the side of the path that we were nearing the cliff. For the preventive men marked all the footpaths on the cliff with whitewashed stones so that one could pick up the way without risk on a dark night. A few minutes more and we reached a broad piece of open sward which I knew for the top of Hawthead. Hawthead is the highest of that line of cliffs which stretches twenty miles from Weymouth to St Albans Head and it stands up eighty fathoms or more above the water. The seaward side is a great shear of chalk but falls not straight into the sea for three parts down there is a low ledge or terrace called the undercliff. It was to this ledge that we were bound and there we were now straight above I knew we had a mile or more to go before we could get down to it. So on we went in so on we went again and found the bridal path that slopes down through a deep dip in the cliff line and when we reached this under ledge I looked up at the sky the night being clear and guessed by the stars that it was past midnight. I knew the place from having once been there for blackberries for the brambles on the undercliff being sheltered every way but south and open to the sun grow the finest in all those parts. We were not alone for I can make out a score of men some standing in groups some resting on the ground and the dark shapes of the pack horses showing larger in the dimness. There were a few words of greeting muttered in deeper voices and then all was still so that one heard the browsing horses trying to crop something off the turf. It was not the first cargo I had helped to run and I knew most of the men but did not speak with them being tired best till I was wanted. So I cast myself down on the turf but had not lain there long when I saw someone coming to me through the brambles. A master rat he said well Jack so thou and Elzevir are a leaving moonfleet and I fame would flip myself but then who would be left to lead the old folk to their last homes for dead do not bury their dead in these days.  Yet he would not let me be but went on talking for the pleasure of hearing his own voice. May child you know not what you say they may behind men to dig a grave and perhaps to fill it but who shall toss the mould when pass and glenny gives the earth to earth. It takes a morn of knowledge to make it rattle kindly on the coffin lid I felt sleep heavy on my eyelids and was for begging him to let me rest when there came a whistle from below and in a moment all were on their feet. The drivers went to the pack horse's heads and so we walked down to the strand a silent moving group of men and horses mixed. And before we came to the bottom heard the first boat's nose grind on the beach and the feet of the seamen crunching in the pebbles. Then all fell to the business of landing and a strange enough scene it was what with the medley of men the lanterns swinging frothy upper from the sea running up till sometimes it was over our boots and all the time there was a patter of French and Dutch for most of the Bonaventure's men were foreigners. But I shall not speak of this for after all one landing is very much like another and kegs come ashore in much the same way whether they are to pay excise or not. It must have been three o'clock before the luggers boats were off again to sea and by that time the horses were well laden and most of the men had a keg or two to carry beside. Then Elsevier, who was in command gave the word and we began to file away from the beach up to the undercliffe. Now what with the cargo being heavy we were longer than usual in getting away and though there was no sign of sunrise yet the night was grayer and not so blue as it had been. We reached the undercliffe and were moving across it to address ourselves to the bridle path and so wind the sideways up the steep. When I saw something moving behind one of the plums of brambles with which the place is beset it was only a glimpse of motion that I have perceived and could not say whether it was man or animal or even frightened bird behind the bushes but others had seen it as well there was some shouting, half a dozen flung down their kegs and started in pursuit. All eyes were turned to the bridle path and in a twinkling hunters and hunted were in view. The greyhounds were Damon and Garrett with some others and the hare was an older man who leapt and bounded forward faster than I should have thought any better youth could run. But then he knew what men were after him and that was a race for life. For though it was but a moment before all were lost in the night yet this was long enough to show me that the man was none other than Maskew and I knew that his life was not worth ten minutes' purchase. Now I hated this man and had myself suffered something at his hand beside seeing him put much grievous suffering on others but I wished then with all my heart he might escape and had a horrid dread of what was to come. Yet I knew all the time escape was impossible for though Maskew ran desperately the way was steep and stony and he had behind him some of the fleetest feet along that coast. We had all stopped with one accord as not wishing to move a step forward till we had seen the issue of the chase and I was near enough to look into Elsevier's face but saw there neither passion nor bloodthirstiness but only a calm resolve as if he had to deal with something well expected. We had not long to wait but very soon we heard a rolling of stones and trampling of feet coming down the path and from the darkness issued a group of men having Maskew in the middle of them they hustling him along fast two having hold of him by the arms and a third by the neck of his shirt behind.  His cap was lost and his thin hair tangled over his forehead his coat was torn off so that he stood in his waistcoat alone he was pale and gasped terribly whether from the sharp run or from violence or fear or all combined. There was a babel of voices when they came up of desperate men who had a bitterest enemy in their clutch shoot him, hang him while others were for throwing him over the cliff then someone saw under the flap of his waistcoat that same silver-halfed pistol that lay so lately near the lease of the why-not and snatching it from him flung it on the grass at Bloch's feet but Elsevier's deep voice mastered their contentions lads, you remember how I said when this man's reckoning day should come cause I would reckon with him I miss to it nor is it right that any should lay hand on him but I whereas he not sealed to me with my son's blood so touch him not but bind him hand and foot and leave him here with me and go your ways there's no time to lose for the light grows apace there was a little muttered murmuring but Elsevier's will overbore them here as it had done in the vault and they yielded them more easily because every man knew in his heart that he would never see Maskew again alive so within ten minutes all were winding up the bridal path horses and men all except three for they were left upon the Bramley Greenswood of the undercliff Maskew and Elsevier and I and the pistol lay at Elsevier's feet End of Chapter 8 Recording by Simon Evers Chapter 9 of Moonfleet This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit Ring by Simon Evers Moonfleet by J. Meade Faulkner Chapter 9 A Judd Let them fight it out friend things have gone too far God must judge the couple leave them as they are Browning I made as if I would follow the others not wishing to see what I must see if I stayed behind and knowing that I was powerless to bend Elsevier from his purpose but he called me back and bade me wait with him for that I might be useful by and by so I waited but was only able to make a dreadful guess at how I might be of use and feared the worst Maskew sat on the sword with his hands lashed tight behind his back and his feet tied in front they had set him with his shoulders against a great block of weather-worn stone that was half-buried and half-stuck up out of the turf there he sat keeping his eyes on the ground and was breathing less painfully than when he was first brought but still very pale Elsevier stood with the land-thorn in his hand looking at Maskew with a fixed gaze and we could hear the hoofs of the heavy-laden horses beating up the path till they turned a corner and all was still the silence was broken by Maskew I'd loose me, villain, and let me go I'm a magistrate of the county and if you do not I will have you gibbered on this cliff-top they were brave words enough yet seemed to me but bad play-acting and brought to my remembrance higher when I was a little fellow Mr. Dlenney once made me recite a battle-piece of Mr. Dryden before my betters and how I could scarcely get out the bloody threats for shyness and rising tears so it was with Maskew's words for he had much ado to gather breath to say them and they came in a thin voice that had no sting of wrath or passion in it then Elsevier spoke to him not roughly but resolved and yet with melancholy like a judge sentencing a prisoner Talk not to me of gibbits for thou wilt neither hang nor gain a month ago thou sat stoned to my roof watching the flame burn down till the pin dropped and gave thee right to turn me out from my old home and now this morning thou shalt watch that flame again for I will give thee one inch more of candle and when the pin drops will put this thine own pistol to thy head and kill thee with as little thought as I would kill a stote or other vermin then he opened the land-form slide that same pin with the onyx-head which he had used in the why-not and fixed it in the tallow a short inch from the top setting the land-form down upon the sword in front of Maskew as for me I was dismayed beyond telling at these words and made giddy with the revulsion of feeling for where as but a few minutes ago I would have thought nothing too bad for Maskew now I was turned round to wish he might come off with his life and to look with terror upon Elsevier it had grown much lighter but not yet with the rosy flush of sunrise only the stars had faded out and the deeper blue of the night given way to a misty grey the light was strong enough to let all things be seen but not to call upon the dew-tints back to them so I could see cliffs and ground bushes and stones and sea and all were of one pearly grey colour or rather they were colourless but the most colourless and greyest thing of all was Maskew's face his hair had gone awry and his head showed much balder than when it was well trimmed his face too was drawn with heavy lines and there were rings under his eyes beside all that he had got an ugly fall in trying to escape and one cheek was mudded and done it trickled a blood-drop where a stone had cut him he was a sorry sight enough and looking at him I remembered that day in the school-room when this very man had struck the parson and how our master had sat patient under it with a blood-drop trickling down his cheek too Maskew kept his eyes fixed for a long time on the ground but raised them at last and looked at me with a vacant yet pity-seeking look now till that moment I had never seen a trace of grace in his features nor of him in hers and yet as he gazed at me then there was something of her present in his face even better than it was so that it seemed as if she looked at me behind his eyes and that made me the sorrier for him and at last I felt I could not stand by and see him done to death when Elsevier had stuck the pin into the candle he never shut the slide again and though no wind blew the breath moving in the morning off the sea that got inside the lantern and set the flame askew and so the candle gutted down one side till but little tallow was left above the pin for though the flame grew pale and paler to the view in the growing morning light yet it burned freely all the time so at last there was left, as I judged but a quarter of an hour to run before the pin should fall and I saw the mask you knew this as well as I for his eyes were fixed on the lantern at last he spoke again but the brave words were gone and the thin voice was thinner he had dropped threats and was begging piteously for his life spare me, he said spare me, Mr. Block, I have an only daughter a young girl with none but me to guard her would you rob a young girl of her only help and cast her on the world would you have them find me dead upon the cliff and bring me back to her a bloody corpse? then Elzavier answered and had I not an only son and was he not brought back to me a bloody corpse? whose pistol was it that flashed in his face and took his life away? do you not know? it was this very same that you're flashing yours so make what peace you may with God for you have little time to make it with that he took the pistol from the ground where it had lain his back on Maskew walked slowly to and fro among the brownble plumps then Maskew's words about his daughter seemed to feed Elzavier's anger by leading him to think of David they sank deep in my heart and if it had not seemed a fearful thing before to stand by and see a fellow creature butchered it seemed now ten thousand times more fearful and when I thought of grace and what such a deed would mean to her my pulse beat so fierce that I must need spring to my feet and run to reason with Elzavier and tell him this must not be he was still walking among the bushes when I found him and let me say my say till I was out of breath and bore with me if I talked fast and if my tongue outram my judgment I was a warmed heart lad, he said and is for that I like thee and if thou has a chief place in my heart for me I cannot grumble if thou find a little room there even for our enemies when I could set thy soul at ease and do all that thou askest in the first flush of wrath when he was taken plotting against our lives it seemed a little thing enough to take his evil life but now these morning airs have cooled me and it goes against my will to shoot a cowering hound tied hand and foot even though he has murdered twenty sons of mine I thought there'd be any way to spare his life and leave this hour's agony to read a lesson not to be unlearned until the grave for such paltrons dread death and in one hour they die a hundred times but there is no way out his life lies in the scale against the lives of all our men yes, and thy life too they left him in my hands well knowing I should take a kind of him and am I now to play them false and turn him loose again to hang them all it cannot be still I pleaded hard for Mescu's life hanging on Elzevia's arm the argument that I could think of to soften his purpose but he pushed me off and though I saw that he was loath to do it I had a terrible conviction that he was not a man to be turned back from his resolve and would go through with it to the end we came back together from the brambles to the piece of sword there sat Mescu where we had left him with his back against the stone only while we were away he managed to wriggle his watch out of the fob and it lay beside him on the turf tied to him with a black silk reband the face of it was turned upwards and as I passed I saw the hand pointed to five sunrise was very near for though the cliff shut out the east from us the west over Portland was all at low with copper red and gold and the candle burnt low the head of the pin was drooping there very slightly but as I saw it droop a month before and I knew that the final act was not far off Mescu knew it too for he made his last appeal using such passionate words as I cannot now relate and wriggling with his body as if to get his hands from behind his back and hold them up in supplication he offered money a thousand, five thousand, ten thousand pounds to be set free he would give back the why-not he would leave moon-fleet and all the while the sweat ran down his furrowed face and at last his voice was choked with sobs for he was crying for his life in craven fear he might have spoken to a death-man for all he moved his judge and Elsevier's answer was to cock the pistol and prime the powder in the pan then I stuck my fingers in my ears and shut my eyes that I might neither see nor hear what followed but in a second changed my mind and opened the game for I had made a great resolve to stop this matter come what might Mescu was making a dreadful sound between a moan and strangled cry it almost seemed as if he thought that there were others by him beside Elsevier and me and was shouting to them for help the sun had risen and his first rays blazed on a window far away in the west on top of Portland Island and then there was a tinkle in the inside of the land-thorn and the pin fell Elsevier looked full of Mescu and raised his pistol but before he had time to take aim I dashed upon him like a wild cat springing on his right arm and crying to him to stop it was an unequal struggle a lad though full-grown and lusty against one of the powerfulest of men but indignation nerfed my arms and his were weak because he doubted of his right so it was with some effort that he shook me off and in the struggle the pistol was fired into the air then I let go of him and stumbled for a moment tired with that bout but pleased with all because I saw what peace even so short a respite had brought to Mescu for at the pistol-shot it was as if a mask of horror had fallen from his face and left him with his old countenance again and then I saw he turned his eyes towards the cliff-top and thought that he was looking up in thankfulness to heaven but now a new thing happened for before the echoes of that pistol-shot had died on the keen morning air I thought I heard a noise of distant shouting and looked about to see when it could come Elsevier looked round too but Mescu, forgetting to up-abrade me for making him miss his aim still kept his face turned up towards the cliff then the voices came nearer and there was a mingled sound as of men shouting to one another and gathering in from different places it was from the cliff-top that the voices came and thither Elsevier and I looked up and there too Mescu kept his eyes fixed and in a moment there were a score of men stood on the cliff's edge high above our heads the sky behind them was pink flushed with the keenest light of the young day and they stood out against its sharp cut and black as the silhouette of my mother that used to hang up by the parlour chimney there were soldiers and I knew the tall miter-caps of the thirteenth and saw the shafts of light from the sunrise came flashing round their bodies and glance off the barrels of their match-locks I knew it all now it was the posse who had lain in ambush Elsevier saw it too and then all shouted at once yield of the king's command, you are our prisoners calls the voice of one of those black silhouettes far up on the cliff-top we are lost, cries Elsevier, it is the posse but if we die this traitor shall go before us and he makes towards Mescu to brain him with the pistol shoot, shoot in the devil's name, screams Mescu, or I am a dead man then there came a flash of fire along the black line of silhouettes with a crackle like a near-peel of thunder and a fut-fut-fut of bullets in the turf and before Elsevier could get him in Mescu had fallen over on the swarm of the groan and with a little red hole in the middle of his forehead run for the cliff-side, cried Elsevier to me, get close in and they cannot touch thee and he made for the chalk wall but I had fallen on my knees like a bullock fell by a poleaxe and had a scorching pain in my left foot Elsevier looked back, what, have they hit thee too? he said, and ran and picked me up like a child and then there is another flash and fut-fut in the turf but the shots find nobile at this time Elsevier lying close against the cliff, panting but safe End of Chapter 9 Recording by Simon Evans Chapter 10 Part 1 of Moonfleet 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 Rob Powell Moonfleet by J. Mead Faulkner Chapter 10 Part 1 The Escape How Fearful and Dizzy Tis to cast one eye so low I looked no more lest my brains turn Shakespeare The Wild Chalk was a bulwark between us and the foe and the one or two of them loosed off their matchlocks trying to get at us sideways they could not even see their quarry and was only shooting at a venture We were safe but for how short a time Safe just for so long as it should please the soldiers not to come down to take us Safe with a discharged pistol in our grasp and a shot man lying at our feet Elsevier was the first to speak Can you stand, John? Is the bone broken? I cannot stand, I said There is something gone in my leg and I feel blood running down into my boot He knelt and rolled down the leg of my stocking but though he only moved my foot ever so little it caused me sharp pain for feeling was coming back after the first numbness of the shot They have broke the leg, though it bleeds little, Elsevier said We have no time to splice it here but I will put a kerchief round and while I wrap it, listen to how we lie and then choose what we shall do I nodded, biting my lips hard to conceal the pain he gave me and he went on We have a quarter of an hour before the posse can get down to us but come they will Thou canst judge what chance we have to save liberty or life with that carrion lying by us and he jerked his thumb at Mesquieu though I am glad it was not my hand that sent him to his reckoning and therefore do not blame thee if thou didst make me waste a charge in air So one thing we can do is to wait here until they come and I can account for a few of them before they shoot me down but thou canst not fight with a broken leg and they will take thee alive and then there is a dance on air at Dorchester Jail I felt sick with pain and bitterly cast down to think that I was like to come so soon to such a vile end So only gave a sigh wishing heartily that Mesquieu were not dead and that my leg were not broke but that I was back again at the why not or even hearing one of Dr. Sherlock's sermons in my aunt's parlor Elsevier looked down at me when I sighed and seeing, I suppose, that I was sorrowful tried to put a better face on a bad business Forgive me lad, he said, if I have spoke too roughly There is yet another way that we may try and if thou hadst but two whole legs I would have tried it and now it is a little short of madness and yet if thou fearst not I will still try it Just at the end of this flat ledge farthest from where the bridal path leads down but not a hundred yards from where we stand there is a sheep track leading up the cliff It starts where the undercliff dies back again into the chalk face and climbs by slants and elbow turns up to the top The shepherds call it the zigzag and even sheep lose their footing on it and of men I never heard but one had climbed it and that was Lander Jordan when the excise was on his heels half a century back but he that tries it stakes all on head and foot and a wounded bird like thee may not dare that flight yet if thou art content to hang thy life upon a hair I will carry thee some way and where there is no room to carry thou must on hands and knees trail thy foot It was a desperate chance enough but came as welcome as a patch of blue through lowering skies Yes I said Dear Master Elsevier let us get to it quickly and if we fall it is better far to die upon the rocks below than to wait here for them to hail us off to jail and with that I tried to stand thinking I might go dot and carry even with a broken leg but was no use and down I sank with a groan then Elsevier caught me up holding me in his arms with my head looking over his back and made off for the zigzag and as we slunk along close to the cliffside I saw between the brambles a skew lying with his face turned up to the morning sky and there was the little red hole in the middle of his forehead and a thread of blood that welled up from it and trickled off onto this ward It was a sight to stagger any man and would have made me swoon perhaps but that there was no time for we were at the end of the undercliff and Elsevier set me down for a minute before he buckled to his task and was a task that might cow the bravest and when I looked upon the zigzag it seemed better to stay where we were and fall into the hands of the posse than set foot on that awful way and fall upon the rocks below for the zigzag started off as a fair enough chalk path but in a few paces narrowed down till it was but a wider thread against the gray white cliff face and afterwards turned sharply back crossing a hundred feet direct above our heads and then I spelt an evil stench and looking about saw the blown-out carcass of a rotting sheep lie close at hand Fa said Elsevier Tis a poor beast has lost his foothold It was an ill omen enough and I said as much beseeching him to make his own way at the zigzag and leave me where I was for that they might have mercy on a boy Tush he cried It is thy heart that fails thee and Tis too late now to change counsel We have fifteen minutes yet to win or lose with and if we gain the cliff top in that time we shall have an hour's start or more for they will take all that to search the undercliff and Mosquew too will keep them in check a little while they try to bring the life back to so good a man but if we fall why we shall fall together and out wit their cunning So shut thy eyes and keep them tight until I bid thee open them With that he caught me up again and I shut my eyes firm rebuking myself for my faint heartedness and not telling him how much my foot hurt me In a minute I knew from Elsevier's steps that he had left the turf and was upon the chalk Now I do not believe that there were half a dozen men beside in England who had ventured up that path even free and untrammeled and not a man in all the world to do it was a full grown lad in his arms Yet Elsevier made no bones of it nor spoke a single word only he went very slow and I felt him scuffle with his foot as he set it forward to make sure he was putting it down firm I said nothing, not wishing to distract him from his terrible task and held my breath when I could so that I might lie quieter in his arms Thus he went on for a time that seemed without end and yet was really but a minute or two and by degrees I felt the wind that we could scarce perceive it all in the undercliff blow fresher and cold on the cliffside and then the path grew steeper and steeper and Elsevier went slower and slower till at last he spoke John, I am going to stop but open not thy eyes till I have set thee down and bid thee I did as bidden and he lowered me gently setting me on all fours upon the path and speaking again the path is too narrow here for me to carry thee and thou must creep round this corner on thy hands and knees but have a care to keep thy outer hand near to the inner and the balance of thy body to the cliff for there is no room to dance hornpipes here and hold thy eyes fixed on the chalk wall looking neither down nor seaward it was well he told me what to do and well I did it for when I opened my eyes even without moving them from the cliffside I saw that the ledge was little more than a foot wide and that ever so little a lean of the body would dash me on the rocks below so I crept on but spent much time that was so precious in traveling those ten yards to take me round the first elbow of the path for my foot was heavy and gave me fierce pain to drag though I tried to mask it from Elsevier and he, forgetting what I suffered, cried out quicken thy pace lad if thou canst the time is short now so frail is man's temper that though he was doing more than any ever did to save another's life and was all I had to trust to in the world yet because he forgot my pain and bade me quicken my collar rose and I nearly gave him back an angry word but thought better of it and kept it in then he told me to stop for that the way grew wider and he would pick me up again but here was another difficulty for the path was still so narrow and the cliff wall so close that he could not take me up in his arms so I lay flat on my face and he stepped over me setting his foot between my shoulders to do it and then, while he knelt down upon the path I climbed up from behind him putting my arms round his neck and so he bore me picka back I shut my eyes for him again and thus we moved along another spell mounting still and feeling the wind still freshening at length he said that we were come to the last turn of the path and he must set me down once more so down upon his knees and hands he went and I slid off behind onto the ledge both were on all fours now Elzevir first and I following but as I crept along I relaxed care for a moment and my eyes wandered from the cliffside and looked down and far below I saw the blue sea twinkling like a dazzling mirror and the gulls wheeling about the sheer chalk wall and then I thought of that bloated carcass of a sheep that had fallen from his very spot perhaps and in an instant felt a sickening qualm in swimming of the brain I knew that I was giddy and must fall then I called out to Elzevir and he, guessing what had come over me cries to turn upon my side and press my belly to the cliff and how he did it in such a narrow straight I know not but he turned round and lying down himself thrust his hand firmly in my back pressing me closer to the cliff yet it was none too soon for if he had not held me tight I should have flung myself down in sheer despair to get quit of that dreadful sickness keep then eyes shut, John, he said and count up numbers loud to me that I may know thou art not turning faint so I gave out one two three and while I went on counting heard him repeating to himself those words seemed thin and far off we must have taken ten minutes to get here and in five more they will be on the undercliff and if we ever reach the top who knows but they have left a guard no no they will not leave a guard for not a man knows of the zigzag and if they knew they would not guess that we should try it we have but fifty yards to go to win and now this cursed giddy fit has come upon the child and he will fall and drag me with him or they will see us from below and pick us off like sitting ye emotes against the cliff face so he talked to himself and all the while I would have given a world to pluck up heart and creep on farther yet could not for the deadly sweating fear that had hold of me thus I lay with my face to the cliff and Elzevir pushing firmly in my back and the thing that frightened me most was that there was nothing at all for the hand to take hold of for had there been a piece of string or even a thread of cotton stretched along to give a semblance of support I think I could have done it but there was only the cliff wall sheer and white against that narrowest way with never a cranny to put a finger into the wind was blowing in fresh puffs and though I did not open my eyes I knew that it was moving the little tufts of bent grass and the chiding cries of the gulls seemed to invite me to be done with fear and pain and broken leg and fling myself off onto the rocks below then Elzevir spoke John he said there is no time to play the woman another minute of this and we are lost pluck up thy courage keep thy eyes to the cliff and forward yet I could not but answered I cannot I cannot if I open my eyes or move hand or foot I shall fall on the rocks below he waited a second and then said nay move thou must and is better to risk falling now than fall for certain with another bullet in thee later on and with that he shifted his hand from my back and fixed it in my coat collar moving backwards himself and setting to drag me after him now I was so besotted with fright that I would not budge an inch to fall over if I opened my eyes and Elzevir for all he was so strong could not pull a helpless slump backwards up that path so he gave it up leaving go hold on me with a groan and at that moment there rose from the undercliff below a sound of voices and shouting Zounds they are down already cried Elzevir and have found Muscu's body it is all up another minute and they will see us but so strange is the force of mind on body and the power of a greater to master a lesser fear that when I heard those voices from below all fright of falling left me in a moment and I could open my eyes without a trace of giddiness so I began to move forward again on hands and knees and Elzevir seeing me thought for a moment I had gone mad and was dragging myself over the cliff but then saw how it was and moved backwards himself before me saying in a low voice brave lad once creep round this turn and I will pick the up again there is but 50 yards to go and we shall foil these devils yet then we heard the voices again but farther off and not so loud and knew that our pursuers had left the undercliff and turned down to the beach thinking that we were hiding by the sea five minutes later Elzevir stepped onto the cliff top with me upon his back we have made something of this throw he said and are safe for another hour though I thought thy giddy head had ruined us then he put me gently upon the springing turf and lay down himself upon his back stretching his arms out straight on either side and breathing hard to recover from the task he had performed End of chapter 10 part 1