The Birthright. Hocking Joseph

the side of the cavern, I allowed myself to follow the strong current of air. Presently the cave began to get smaller; indeed, so narrow was it that I could feel both sides at the same time by stretching out my hands. All the while the wind blew tremendously. At this I wondered much, for it seemed strange to me that I should feel the wind when I was so far away from the mouth of the cave. As I became calmer, I began to understand this. I knew that the waves as they rushed into the aperture must carry with them a great force of wind, and that naturally they would force the air inward. Thus the strong current which blew me further from the sea would indicate that there was an outlet somewhere. So, unmindful of danger, I followed the wind-current, and shortly I found myself ascending. The road was slimy and hard to climb; but I struggled on, and erelong found myself in a coppice. I looked around me, and remembered the place well. On one side of the coppice was a meadow which belonged to a fisherman named Ikey Trethewy – a strange, silent man who spoke but little, and who possessed a fast-trotting horse. On the other side the coppice sloped up to the spongy headland, where a curious kind of grass grew, and where rabbits dug their holes, and frolicked on summer nights.

      I had passed by the place often, and had never thought much of it. The little patch of trees and thick undergrowth which grew in a kind of sheltered gully seemed of no importance; but now the place possessed a strong interest for me.

      The coppice was much sheltered, but the wind, as it came up the hole through which I had passed, made a wild, moaning sound, which explained many of the stories I had heard. It was very dark by this time, and, although it was summer, the sky was covered with black clouds, and I heard the wind and sea roaring furiously. By the time I got to the headland I knew that a storm of great violence was raging. For some time a feeling of indecision possessed me; then I made my way toward Betsey Fraddam's cottage.

      CHAPTER V

      I SEE NAOMI PENRYN ON ROCK CALLED THE SPANISH CAVALIER, AND RESCUE HER – WE ESCAPE FROM THE TRESIDDERS

      When I entered Betsey's cottage, she was sitting with her son beside the open fireplace, watching a crock which steamed over a wood fire, and from which came a strange smell.

      "'Twas cowld and wet at Granfer's caave, I spoase?" was her first greeting, after looking at me very carefully.

      Now how she knew I had been in the cave I know not, neither will I pretend to explain; at the same time, I felt rather fearful at the thought that she should have been aware of the place where I had spent the day, when no one had told her.

      "How do you know where I have been?" I asked.

      "How do I knaw?" sneered Betsey; "how do I knaw everything?"

      So I said no more, but looked toward a loaf of bread which lay on the table.

      "Iss, you've 'ad nothin' but a swede turmut, and that ed'n rastlin' mait," said Betsey. "You do look vine and faint, too. 'Ere's summin that'll do 'ee good, my deear," and going to a cupboard, she took a two-gallon jar, and poured out a tumbler full of liquor. "There, drink that," she said, putting it before me.

      It was raw spirits, and when I had swallowed one mouthful I could take no more, it was too strong for me.

      "Aw, aw!" laughed Betsey; "'tes nearly as strong as the broth I do make, ed'n et, then? Here, Eli, put some milk in the pan, and het it for 'un. He was in the pillory yesterday, and he seed Richard Trezidder and Neck Trezidder and Emily Trezidder, and another maid, a very purty one. Then 'ee runned away, and after that he got to Granfer Fraddam's Cave. Make a good quart of eggiot for 'un, Eli. That'll be better'n sperrits. He's too waik for that."

      Then Eli got the milk, and began to beat up eggs in a basin, grunting strangely, while he watched me with his strange, wild-looking eyes. But I did not speak, for Betsey made me afraid; besides, I felt cold and ill.

      "I knaw what you be thinking," said Betsey; "you be wonderin' how I got so much sperrits. Well, p'raps I shall tell 'ee zoon. We sh'll zee, Jasper, we sh'll zee." And with that the old crone chuckled.

      Then Eli came to me, and felt me, and fondled me. He smoothed my wrists where they had been bruised the day before, and got some ointment which he rubbed around my neck. Then, when the milk and egg was ready, he poured it in a huge basin, and put it before me.

      "I'd 'a killed 'un ef you wos dead," he repeated many times, until I wondered at his apparent love for me.

      When I had drunk what Eli had prepared I felt better. My head began to get clear again, and my strength came back to me.

      "Naow," wheedled Betsey, when I had finished, "tell me oal about et. Tell me, Jasper, my deear."

      "You know everything," I replied.

      "No, not everything; tell me, for ould Betsey'll ave to 'elp 'ee, my deear."

      So I told her everything, save my love for Naomi Penryn; of that I could not speak to her, it was a secret for my own heart, and I vowed that I would never tell of it until I poured the words in the sweet maid's own ears. At that time I felt sure that the story of my love would remain forever untold.

      "Do 'ee knaw what this do main, Jasper?" said Betsey, when I had finished.

      "He bait 'em boath, boath!" laughed Eli, gleefully.

      "Now, Eli," said Betsey, "hark to Jasper, and hark to me. Now tell me, Jasper."

      "I think I know," I said.

      "He mustn't knaw that you've come back to St. Eve," said Betsey. "I tell 'ee, you musn't show yer faace. 'Ee'll never rest till you'm out ov the way. You'll jist be found dead some day, tha's wot'll 'appen. Ef 'ee caan't do et with the law 'ee'll do et wi'out."

      "Yes," I said.

      "Well, wot be 'ee goin' to do?"

      "I'll go back to Granfer Fraddam's Cave. No one can find me there."

      "Tha's true, but what 'bout yer mait?"

      "I'll bring 'un mait," said Eli. "I'll bring 'un mait. I knaw, I knaw!" And the poor gnome laughed joyfully.

      "But that caan't last," said Betsey. "Two months more an' winter'll be 'ere. Besides, you caan't git back Pennington by stayin' in a cave. You knaw what you promised your vather, Jasper; you zaid you wudden rest night nor day 'till you got back Pennington."

      "I remember," I said.

      "Bezides," cried Betsey – then she stopped, and looked at me steadily. She had keen, whitey-gray eyes, which shone very brightly. "Do'ee knaw who thicky maid wos that you zeed in Fa'muth 'esterday?"

      I shook my head.

      "Purty, ed'n she?" sniggered Betsey. "She's for Nick Trezidder, my deear, tha's wot she's for. Her vather an' mawther's dead, my deear, and she've got piles o' money, an' Richard Trezidder es 'er guardian, an' they main 'er to marry Nick. Her vather was Squire Penryn, my deear, an' 'ee was killed, an' 'er mawther died a bit agone, so the Trezidders 'ev got 'er body and soul."

      "How do you know?" I asked.

      "'Ow do I knaw!" sneered Betsey. "'Ow do I knaw everything?" and this was the way she always answered when I asked her such a question.

      "Where is her home?" I asked.

      "Where? Up the country somewhere on the north coast. A big 'ous cloas to the say, my deear."

      "But Penryn is close to Falmouth."

      "'Nother branch ov the fam'ly, my deear; but ther', she nothin' to you. She's good, she's purty, an' she's rich, but she's for Nick Trezidder. Thews Trezidders do bait the Penningtons, don't 'em?" And Betsey laughed again.

      But I held my tongue. I determined that I would not tell the secret of my heart, although Betsey's words hurt me like knife-stabs.

      "Well, an' when winter do come, what be 'ee goin' to do then, Jasper, an' 'ow be 'ee goin' to git 'nough to buy back Pennington?"

      "I must think, Betsey," I said. "I must think. But I'll do it – I'll do it!"

      "Aisy spok, but not so aisy done. How?"

      "I'll help 'un," said Eli.

      "You! 'Ow can you 'elp 'un?"

      But Eli only hugged himself and laughed, as though he were