The Birthright

For a long time I lay and dreamed of my love; I did not think of the way in which she must have regarded me, neither did I for a long while remember my degradation. I lived in happy forgetfulness of everything, save the love-joy that filled my life. The birds fluttered hither and thither on the twigs which grew so thickly around, and finally settled to rest, while the insects ceased to hum as the night descended, but I scarcely heeded them. I lay among the ferns, my head pillowed on a moss-covered stone, and thought of Naomi Penryn. I did not care who she was; I did not think. Why should I? For I believe that when God sends love into our hearts, it does not matter as to name and lineage. I had seen the flash of her eyes, and remembered the tear drops that glistened. I had seen the beauteous face, so full of tenderness and truth; I had heard her voice, sweeter than the sighing of the night wind as it played among the wild flowers, and I cared for nothing else. Hour after hour passed away, the woods became darker and darker, but I could still see Naomi's face. Then the eastern sky became streaked with golden light, and the birds sang to welcome the advent of day, but their songs were not so sweet as the memory of Naomi's voice. For my love was the gift of God, and I thought then only of what was beautiful and true.

But with the dawn of day other memories came to me. I thought of my shame; I remembered that she had been told to regard me as a vagabond and a street brawler. I knew that Nick Tresidder would seek to poison her mind against me, and that even now I was being searched for that I might be degraded by the lash of a whip; and then a great pain and bitterness filled my heart, for I felt that my love was hopeless. While I had rejoiced in loving I thought not of this, but after a time my love became a desire, an overmastering desire to woo Naomi Penryn, to make her love me as I loved her.

And this was hopeless. Had she not seen me pilloried as a shameful vagrant? Had she not seen me persecuted, tormented – the byeword, the laughing-stock for the offals of Falmouth town? Had I not been pelted by refuse? Was I not made hideous by disfigurement? How could I win her love? Then I hated the Tresidder tribe more than ever. They had robbed me of my home, my heritage, my all, and now through them I must be loathed by the one, the light of whose eyes burned into my heart like fire. But more than all this she would be with Nick Tresidder day by day. He would walk with her, ride with her, talk with her. They would roam among the woods and pluck the wild flowers that should be mine, while I – I was hiding from the men who held a whip to lash me.

These thoughts kept me from lying still any longer, so I got up and walked along under the great trees until I came down to the river. Perhaps the world can show more beauteous sights than the river which runs between Truro and Falmouth, but I have my doubts. Nature here is at the height of her loveliness and spreads her riches with no niggard hand. For the clear water coils its way through a rich countryside, where green woods and rich meadows slope down to the river's bank. Here the flowers come early in the springtime, and scent the air through the summer; and here, too, winter is tardy in making its appearance, as if loth to shrivel the shining leaf, or to cause the gaily-painted flower to wither and die.

Even I, as I stood by the river's bank at early sunrise, torn as my mind and heart were with conflicting passions, was soothed by the blessedness of the scene, for my heart lost something of its bitterness and love became triumphant. But the feeling was not for long. As I stood by the still water I saw the reflection of myself, and the sight made me more hopeless than ever. I saw in the water a tall, wild-looking youth, with bare head, save for a mass of unkempt hair; a face all scratched and bruised, and made to look savage and repulsive by vindictiveness; the clothes were dirty, bedraggled and torn, while the riding boots were torn and muddy.

And Naomi Penryn had seen me thus – ay worse. I went to the river and washed, and then looked at myself again. My face was still scratched and bruised, but I had the Pennington features. After all, there was nothing mean and cunning about them. The eyes were wild, and perhaps fierce, but they were honest and frank still. The clothes were much worn and torn, but the body they covered was strong and shapely. There was nothing weak or shambling in those six feet three inches.

Then I remembered what I had been a year before, and what I had become through injustice. Could I not make myself worthy? But how? I faced, or tried to face, facts truthfully. I was without home or friends, if I except the friendship of Eli Fraddam the gnome, who was at once despised and feared on every hand. I had no money, I had no clothes. Moreover, I had no means of getting any. I had no trade; I had no thorough knowledge of anything save farming, and no farmer dared to hire me. It was true I had some little experience of fishing, and could manage a boat fairly well, but not well enough to gain a livelihood by such work.

And yet a love had come into my life for one who was tenderly nurtured, one doubtless accustomed to abundant riches; I, who was an outcast, a beggar. And I owed my poverty, my disgrace, to the Tresidders. Let God who knows all hearts judge whether there was not an excuse for my hatred. And yet, although the Tresidders had made my very love a seeming madness, that same love made me see beauty, and led me to hope with a great hope.

I turned my face toward Pennington, wondering all the while if I should see Naomi again. For I called her Naomi in my own heart, and to me it was the sweetest name on earth. I repeated it over to myself again and again, and the birds, who sang to me overhead, sang to me songs about her. And as I trudged along, I tried to think again how I should buy back Pennington, not for revenge, but because of my love. But no ray of light shone to reveal to me the way. I could see nothing for it but that I, poor and friendless, must forever remain poor and friendless still. And yet all the while birds sang love songs and told me of Naomi Penryn.

When I at length saw Elmwater Barton, I began to think of the steps I must take for my immediate future. I had determined that I would live within sight of Pennington, but how? Even Betsey Fraddam would be afraid to give me shelter when she had heard the truth, for Betsey knew Richard Tresidder's power. For let me tell here that while Betsey was much sought after, she was hated by many. Betsey admitted to being a witch, but claimed only to be a white witch. Now as all Cornish folks know, there is a difference between a white witch and a black witch. A white witch is one who is endowed by nature to cure by means of charms, and passes and strange signs. She can also read the future, and find out secrets about those who do evil. Thus a white witch is looked up to, and her calling is regarded as lawful, even by the parsons, save of a very few who are narrow in their notions. A black witch, on the other hand, is said to have dealings with the evil one, and her power is only gained by a signed compact with the king of darkness.

Now if Betsey were suspected of the evil eye, and of being a black witch, her life might be in danger, and if Richard Tresidder as the chief man in the parish were to turn against her, 'twould go hard with her. Thus I knew that while Betsey did not love Tresidder she would do nothing to offend him. Only her love for Eli caused her to give me a home during the past months, and I knew that now she would not dare to have me in her house.

Thus I made many plans as to what I should do, and presently I had made up my mind. My plan was to go into a cave which I knew of, and spend my days there, and by night I would go to Betsey's house and get food. I should thus have shelter and food, and I should be near Pennington. I should also have means of finding out whether Naomi Penryn stayed at Pennington, as well as other matters which lay near to my heart. What I should do when winter came on I knew not, neither could I tell how I could make myself worthy of my love. I felt sure that Richard Tresidder's great desire was to drive me from Cornwall, and thus be freed from the sight of one who must always remind him of his fraud. As for my getting back the home of my fathers, it was out of all question.

So I made my way to the cave. It was called Granfer Fraddam's Cave, because he died there. Granfer Fraddam had been a smuggler, and it was believed that he used it to store the things he had been able to obtain through unlawful means. He was Betsey Fraddam's father, and was reported to be a very bad man. Rumours had been afloat that at one time he had sailed under a black flag, and had ordered men to walk a plank blindfolded. But this was while he was a young man, and no one dared to reproach him with it even when he grew old. When Granfer was alive the cave was a secret one, and none of the revenue officers knew of its existence. Only a few of Granfer's chosen friends knew how to find it. It was said, too, that he died there while hiding from the Preventive officers, and that ever since he had haunted the place, and that his voice might be heard at night calling for food and water, and praying for vengeance on the King's servants. Rumour also reported that he died a terrible death, because no clergyman or man of God could get near to help him from the clutches of the Evil One. As far as I was aware, its whereabouts was a secret when I was young, although it was generally supposed to be in what was known as Granfer's Cove, although some said it fell in at Granfer's death. Anyhow, no one visited it – indeed, such was my belief at the time, neither was it a pleasant place to reach. When the tide was up it was difficult to reach by water because of the great rocks which abounded; besides, you might be within six feet of it and not see it, because its mouth was so curiously covered.

Eli Fraddam, who seemed to know everything, took me to it by the upper way; by that I mean the way of the cliff. He also showed me how I might know it from the beach, and by what rocks I could distinguish it. I did not enter the cave at the time, at least very far; but I remember that it was large, and that my voice echoed strangely when I spoke. I remember, too, that a strange fear was upon me, especially as in the dim light I saw Eli's strange form and face, and caught the gleams of his wild cross eyes.

It was to this spot that I determined to go now, and for the time, at least, rest free from Richard Tresidder's persecutions. I think I should have gone away altogether at this time, and perchance have tried to obtain a post as a common sailor, but I remembered Naomi Penryn; and the yearning that was in my heart to see her again and, if possible, to speak to her, was so strong, that I was willing to brave anything to be near her.

Granfer Fraddam's Cave was very lonely. There was not a house within a long distance of it, and, with the exception of two cottages, Pennington was the nearest dwelling. I was, therefore, able to get there unmolested. No one had seen me on my journey, because I had kept to the woods and fields. I took with me some swede turnips to eat, and when I had eaten, not thinking of the strange stories told about Granfer's Cave, I lay down on the shingle and fell asleep and dreamt that I was the owner of Pennington, and that I went to an old house on the cliffs to woo Naomi Penryn.

When I awoke I knew not where I was. My mind was strangely confused, and there was a sound like unto many thunders roaring in my ears. I had a choking sensation, too, and felt it hard to breathe. Then I felt myself to be covered with water, while pebbles pelted my face. I struggled to my feet, and my senses coming to me, I understood the reason. I had not thought of the tide, which was now rushing into the cave with terrific force. A great fear got hold of me, and, as fast as I was able, I fled into the interior of the cavern. It was very dark, but in the darkness I fancied I saw strange, moving creatures; and at that moment all the stories told about Granfer Fraddam's evil spirit were true to me. A mad desire to escape possessed me, but how to do so I did not know. I heard the waves thundering up the cave, while a terrible wind blew, which drove me further into the darkness. I dared not venture to go seaward, so, keeping my hand against 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.