Ishmael Pengelly, an outcast

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I m ISHMAEL PENGELLY. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. I. Zillah. A Romance. 2. Jabez Easterbrook. A Religious Novel. 3. The Story of Andrew Fairfax. 4. Elrad, the Hie. A Romance of the Sea of Galilee. WARD, LOCK & BOWDEN, Ltd. " Ah ! the poor thing must be mad ! " Ishmael Pengelly [Page 58. ISHMAEL PENGELL! Hit ©utcast. BY REV. JOSEPH HOCKING, AUTHUR THE STORY OF ANDREW FAIRFAX," ETC He pulled away the handkerchief. {Page 4oS. WARD, LOCK & BOWDEN, Limited. LONDON : WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C. NEW YORK AND MELBnURNK. 1893 (All rights reserved. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. Before Ishmael Was Born

"Tintagel, half in sea and high on land, A crown of Towers." — Idylls of ihe King. YES, Reuben, every field, every acre, every perch of it should be thine. Anyhow, that's my way of thinking." " So you've said scores of times, father, but what's the use ? I don't see how it can ever be mine. You know the old man hates us like poison, and naturally, too, for you've always been a thorn in his side." " I know it, Reuben, and what wonder ? I'd always been brought up to believe that Penwithen would come to me. It used to belong to our side of the family, and everybody said when old Michael Penwithen died the land would be mine. Why, my father called me Ahaz for that very reason. Ahaz means possessor, and so the parson christened me." 1 i; "But you haven't got it, father." "No, my cousin Michael was the old man's favourite, and he willed the land to him.

But, none the less, it ought to come to you." " But it won't. Michael Penrose hates me because he hates you ; and, although we are called Penwithen, the land will not come into our hands." "Why not? Old Michael's wife died young, and there are no children. If he doesn't make a will it must come to you because your are next-of-kin. And then, instead of having a stony farm, you'll have the finest place in the north of Cornwall. Why, look, you can see the boundary hedge from here. There, it's close over against Tintagel, and the land do stretch away down to the sea for a long, long way. There, see the old house among the trees ? It's nearly a mile from there to the coast, and all the land is in the Pen withen deeds." "Yes, father, it's a fine place, no doubt, but it won't come to me. Anyhow, I'm afraid not.

I wish it would, for I'm tired of farming Carloggas, and as you say it did originally belong to our side of the family. Has old Michael made a will, do you know ? " "No, Reuben, not yet, and he's failing fast." " AVell, it doesn't matter. Old Nick himself couldn't get over old Michael, and so no doubt he'll beat both of us." " No, he won't, Reuben, if we are careful." "Why, he can't help it. Everything will go to that wild black-eyed maid. She's some sort of a relation to his wife's family, and she's been living there several months now." "But people say she's half mazed." "What for that? Penwithen will go to her just the same, and all the money old Michael have saved." " Well, suppose it do ? " " Suppose it does ! Well, then I'm done for." " Unless you are a sharp chap, and trig each move carefully."

" What do you mean ? " " I mean that you are a good-lookin' chap, Reuben. I mean that you've had better chances than most young men. I sent you to school at Tregony when I could badly afford it, so that you might be fit for the place I wanted you to occupy. Now you can talk well, you dress well, and are thought an engaging fellow." " Well, and what for all this ? " said Reuben, evidently pleased. "Why, you can use your good looks and your taking ways in getting back Penwithen to the Penwithen family." " How ? " " By making friends with that wild-eyed maid up at Michael Penrose's." " What do you mean ? " "Get her to care for you." " AVhat for ? " " So that you may find out if old Michael makes a will. If he don't, then you needn't bother ; if he do, he'll make it to this maid." " And what then ?

" "You must marry her." "No, father, never." " What ? " " No, father, not to get all Penwithen." " But why ? " "Because I love Amelia Bassett." " Why, you fool, her father isn't worth sixpence." " I know it." " And will you ruin your prospects for a foolish fancy like this ? Do you know that my farm don't pay, and that if I was sold up there wouldn't be enough to square accounts ? ISHMAEL PENGELL Y. 4 AVhy, Reuby, you must be mad. I've nothing against the Bassett maid, but you can't afford to do that. If you could get Penwithen then I'd say nothing more, but if you marry her without it you marry poverty and misery." In answer to this the young man turned his eyes again towards Penwithen House and the broad acres that sur rounded it. Both father and son gave evidence of belonging to that superior class of farmers which may be found here and there scattered over the north of Cornwall.

They prided them selves, too, on belonging to an old family which had owned land for centuries. The father, Ahaz Penwithen, was a hale, sturdy man, of about sixty years of age. His mouth was hard and compressed, and a look of greed shone from his small grey eyes. The son, Reuben Penwithen, showed the advantage of his superior education at every turn, and while both of them occasionally indulged in the dialect of the neighbourhood, their speech was generally correct. It was evident, however, that Reuben had inherited his father's greed for gold, and the longing way in which his eyes rested on the lands of Penwithen showed that his father's words had sunk deeply into his heart. Reuben, although never knowing extreme poverty, had never known the meaning of plenty. His father's farm was dry and stony, and the wild winds which blew on the north coast, kept the unsheltered land from yielding good crops.

Penwithen, however, while much of the land bordered the sea, was a valuable estate. Hundreds of rich loamy acres nestled behind the hills away from the mighty cliffs which check the sweep of the breakers that dash on the northern shore, and every one for miles round knew that old Michael Penrose had gained great riches from bis estate. Often and often had old Ahaz told Reuben that the land should be his, until the young man's desire to possess it became a great longing. " I tell you what," continued Ahaz, after a little silence between them, " you owe it to your name, you owe it to yourself, you owe it to me that you get back the land. Fancy," and he turned, and pointed scornfully to an old weather-beaten, tumble-down looking house which lay in the distance — " fancy fetching a woman that you love, there!

If she had a thousand or two, it would be a different matter, but without a penny — ugh ! " Reuben continued looking at the fine old house em bowered among the trees and at the lands that stretched away beyond, right on to the rock-bound coast. " Let us go home to tea, father," he said at length ; " it's nearly five o'clock." Ahaz looked keenly at his son's face, and then, without a word, the two walked quietly away towards the dreary looking farmhouse that lay in the distance. As they entered the kitchen, Reuben looked at the low, whitewashed plank ceiling, and at the cold lime-ash floor, which was anything but inviting, but he sat down before a piece of cold ham, and began carving it deliberately. Meanwhile, his father began talking with Leah, the house keeper. " This milk is very thin, Leah," he said; "as for the butter, it hav'n't got no colour in it."

" No wonder," grumbled the old woman. " There ed'n a bit o' dairy ground on the plaace. Ef we do'an't git rain soon, every bit of grass '11 die. You doan't grow enough straw to make dressin', and the ground's gittin' poorer every year. Besides, the dairy ed'n fit. The house do want doin' up." This was an old story, and Reuben sighed. Leah had been there several years, and looked upon herself as chief manageress. No one thought of checking her fault-finding, for she was a faithful servant. Besides, she had been a kind of mother to Reuben, who held her in great esteem. More over, Leah was a kind of oracle in the house. She had been a class leader in connection with the Brianite society for many years, and was made mention of by the Brianite — otherwise called the Bible Christian — minister. In addition to all this, Leah was renowned for charms and marvellous cures, which are still believed in in some of the rural districts of Cornwall.

"AA'ell, Leah," said old Ahaz grimly, "we can't get rain and we can't grow more straw than we do. These things are in wiser hands than ours, after all." Leah nodded her head solemnly, while Reuben could not help thinking that her eyes were fastened on him. AVhen tea was over, the young man got up and walked out alone. The sun was sinking fast, and he ran rapidly up the hillside towards the point on which he and his father had been standing earlier in the day, as he wanted to feast his eyes again on the land he so coveted. If possible, it seemed more to be desired now than ever. There in the quiet of the summer evening, every field, every patch of wood, every cow grazing in the meadows, every flock of sheep seemed increased in value. Ah ! if they were only his. The setting sun, too, made everything more beautiful.

Not that Reuben was poetical, neither did he go into ecstasies over sunsets, and yet, as the great orb of day sank into the clear waters of the Atlantic, lighting them up with an indescribable glory, a glory which was reflected on hill and dale as far as the eye could see, he could not help feeling how proud he should be if the land were only his. It ought to be his, too, and only this wild-eyed maid stood between him and the possession of the place which bore his name. He had never seen her closely, for old Michael Penrose seldom left the house, while his niece — she was generally thought to be his niece— stayed with him. Still he fancied he had caught a glimpse of her once, and her face haunted him strangely. AAras she a little mad, as the gossips said, or did people talk because she showed no desire to leave the old man ?

Anyhow, she, in all probability, would possess all this property — she a stranger, while he. Reuben Penwithen, would have to starve on stony Carlog gas. His eyes hardened at this, and the sunset's golden glow seemed to have lost power over him. He got up from the grass on which he had thrown him self, and, as if drawn by dread desire, stole stealthily towards the house he coveted. Penwithen House could not by any means be called a mansion. It was simply the dwelling of a substantial yeoman who was desirous of having a better place than the ordinary tenant farmer. The grounds around it were by no means artistically laid out, while the farmyard in the rear strongly reminded Reuben of the farmyard at home. Still it was a palace to Carloggas. Everything be tokened affluence and comfort. There was no stint any where, he could see that.

Besides, old Michael hadnever spent half his income, so there must be a pile somewhere. It was at the bank in Bodmin, he had heard, at least some of it, while the rest — well, no doubt, it was safe. Reuben leaned over the gate which opened into the yard. AVithin stood a dozen cows waiting to be milked, while a couple of dumpling-cheeked girls did their best to relieve them of their burden. Presently two or three lads shuffled out of the kitchen and came towards him, and were evidently greatly pleased that he should stop and chat with them. He did not stay long, however, but jumped over a stile and followed the windings of a footpath which led to the front of the house. Here he stopped in confusion, for close to him stood old Michael Penrose and his niece. Old Michael was further advanced in years than Ahaz Penwithen.

He was close upon seventy, and stooped as he walked. Still there was an air of haughty independence stamped upon his face. Evidently he did not own Pen withen for nothing. His hair was white, while his beard was shaven at the chin, growing around the neck. He wore a suit of strong grey tweed which became him well. The girl at his side was about twenty. A dark eerie looking creature, suggestive of wild passion, of unreasonable likes and dislikes. Her great black eyes showed impatience of restraint, ardent desire, imperious will. And yet she looked as though she had been kept down, crushed; as though, indeed, she had been kept within narrow boundaries, which she longed to overleap. A girl to be fascinated by, and yet to be feared, one who would love with a dog-like love up to a certain point, but beyond that the passion would be turned into hatred.

Old Michael turned and stared at Reuben, but he did not speak, while the girl gave him a sharp, searching glance, as though her great wild eyes would read his innermost heart. The old man opened the garden door which stood against the meadow, and the strange couple entered, leaving Reuben alone. " That's her, righf enough," said Reuben to himself when the door had been shut, " and she's to have it all, while I !" The young man walked rapidly away with drooping head. He was thinking deeply, evidently trying to work out a difficult problem. " Yes, they won't be gone to bed yet," he said to himself, after he had walked some time, " and I should like to see Amelia to-night," A little while after he turned into a narrow lane which led to another farmhouse. "Amelia and I have never kept company proper," he muttered, " and I know there's several fellows wanting her.

Still I know it's all right, and AVilliam Bassett is always glad to see me." He entered the house, and was soon admitted into the front kitchen, where the family sat. Farmer Bassett was of the ordinary type of farmers. Evidently they were of the frugal sort, and endeavoured to pay their way. Their son John was a steady young man, who aimed at being a preacher, and who already took appointments on the Brianites' plan. As yet he was designated only by a star ; the next quarter his initials would be printed; after which, if he properly qualified himself, his name would appear in full. This to young Bassett seemed a great thing. Reuben's eyes, however, were turned in the direction of Amelia Bassett, who sat by the table, doing some fancy work, and as he did so his eyes softened and his lips moved.

There was no doubt about it, Reuben was in love with Amelia, although he had not as yet told her so. AA'hat strange freak of nature had made Amelia so different from the rest of. the family? The half stolid, half discon tented look which characterized the parents, and the irritat ing look of conceit which revealed itself in every movement of the son, was absent in Amelia. She could not be called beautiful, or clever ; but there was restfulness, purity, charm, in her presence. A home girl she was, every inch of her. Not fault-finding or jealous, but unselfish, brave, arid affec tionate. Although Farmer Bassett did not realize it, Amelia was his great comfort, his great solace. She cheered him when the harvests were bad, or when there was disease among the cattle. She made tempting dishes for him too, and made his disappointments less severe.

A buxom-look. ISHMAEL PENGELL Y. 10 ing girl, too, just a little stout, but still trim and ladylike. At any rate, Reuben thought so as he looked on her fair white arms, her rosy cheeks, and cherry lips. The farmer gave him a hearty welcome, and soon after commenced talking about farming prospects. " It's just a bare living we are making here, Reuben," he said; "not a penny can I save. I wish I'd put my children to a trade, for farmin' is nothing. And as sure as I'm liv in'," he continued, glancing furtively at the young man, " I'll never consent for my children to slave on such farms as yours and mine." And so on and on, each word making Reuben's heart more sad. He looked at Amelia, who industriously looked at her fancy work, and then towards young Bassett, who was evidently dreaming of the time when he should be a full-fledged local preacher, and perhaps an itinerant Bible Christian minister.

By-and-by he started for Carloggas again, his eyes hard with greed and envy. He hurried on to Penwithen, and looked eagerly towards the house and the substantial farm buildings. He listened, and heard the roar of the waves as they rolled upon the great rocks. " And that maid '11 have it all," he muttered, " while I must starve at Carloggas — and Amelia ■ ; but I'll have a good try," he continued, between his set teeth. " I'll take father's advice, and if I can get it back I will. Mad or no, I'll make her acquaintance at once, and I'll get to know everything, and then well, we'll see ! " AA'ith this determination Reuben Penwithen hurried back to the old farmhouse.

Chapter II

, TELLS HOW A MAN SOLD HIS SOUL. Evil Angels : Too lale. Good Angels: Never too late, if Faustus will repent. Evil Angels : If thou repent devils will tear thee in pieces. Good Angels : Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin. — Marlowe's Faustus. REUBEN PENAATTHEN did not sleep well that night. His mind was full of the future— future hopes, future prospects. An intricate scheme was revolving in his mind, and he was constantly wondering whether he would be able to carry it out. Lying alone, he realized that he loved Amelia Bassett, but there was something he loved more. Penwithen House, Penwithen estate, with its rich broad acres on the one hand, the grey hills stretching down to the wild rocky coast on the other, and the money which he knew old Michael Penrose had been accumulating for years, were dearer to him than even the thought of wedding Amelia Bassett.

For Reuben had caught his father's spirit, and the seed which for years the old man had been sowing in his son's heart had taken root. "The finest estate for a long way round," he would mutter; "why, I should almost be a squire and take my place with Squire Retallick. AA'hy, if I played my cards carefully I might get to be magistrate and all that, only, only " and then all the pros and cons had to be gone over again. Sometimes his conscience interposed, for he had a con science, and his better nature pleaded with him. Besides, what would Amelia say ? He was sure she liked him, she had shown it in a thousand innocent maidenly ways ; but then " when poverty came in at the door love flew out at the window." That was an old proverb he had heard from childhood. And after all there was not much romance in taking a wife home to a farm like Carloggas.

AA'hy, she would have to take Leah's place and slave all her days. That surely couldn't be right. Besides, hadn't her father said he would never consent to his daughter living such a life ? AVhen Reuben got up the following morning his mind was made up. He was prepared to sell his soul if need be. He would barter his birthright for such a mess of pottage as Penwithen could give him. Having gone so far the rest seemed easy. He must prepare his plans, he must take steps at once. As his father had said, Reuben was a good-looking fellow. He stood upright, carried himself well when he walked, dressed better than the ordinary run of farmers, and could speak fluently. Many of the young women of the neighbourhood cast languishing looks towards him, for, as they whispered to their own hearts, he was " so superior."

First of all he set to work to find out something of the history of the dark-skinned, black-eyed, raven-haired maiden whom he had seen near Penwithen House, and who, as far as he could see, would be old Michael Penrose's heiress ; and having done that, he wanted to know something of her habits and customs. How did she pass her time ? Did she ever go out, and if so, was she alone ? AA'hat were her relations to old Michael ? Did he like her, and was she happy ? These and a score of other things he wanted to know. That one glimpse at her as she stood by old Michael's TELLS HOW A MAN SOLD HIS SOUL. 13 side assured him that she would not be easily dealt with, and that if he carried his plans to a perfect end, he must move with extreme caution. He knew that his whole scheme was founded on a desire for gain, and that he could not carry it out without much deception.

But he was prepared for that. Beyond that he took no thought. He found that the girl, who passed as old Michael Pen tose's niece, was the daughter of his wife's younger sister. That this sister had been very poor, and had reared up her child in an almost uninhabited place in the north of Corn wall, in a parish called Altarnun. Altarnun, he knew, was the largest parish in the country, and more than half the land in it was uncultivated. On a bleak hillside, within sight of Router and Brown Willy, two of the most famous peaks in the county, this girl had lived most of her life. Her education was better than might have been expected, her mother having been carefully trained ; but her nature was untutored, and the life she had lived had but few softening influences. Shortly after her mother died the father married again, and then old Michael took her home with him, and treated her as his daughter.

She had been christened Judith, and her father's name was David Stone, but old Michael would not have her called by her true surname, and so she went by the name of Judith Penrose. She did not make a favourable impression at Penwithen. The matter-of-fact folks there could not understand this dark handsome girl, with a form like a Diana, and wild, wild flash ing eyes. She seemed to them to have strange ways, and so it was whispered about that she was crazed. Not that she did anything wrong, but then rustic folks living where little happens are fond of spicy gossip, and this story about Judith went from lip to lip. Neither Michael nor his niece knew aught of it, for Michael held but little intercourse with the people, and if such a story had come to his hearing he would have taken no notice.

Foolish stories mattered not to this sturdy, clear headed old man, who regarded himself as independent of the world. But Judith had a quick brain and a strong, passionate nature. Her heart was full of strange yearnings, and she longed to enter that life of which she had dreamed, and of which she had read in the few books which had belonged to her mother. There was much romance in her nature too. AA'hat wonder, when she had been reared beneath the shadow of Brown AVilly ? All her life she had lived among the dreary, wild moors, and there she had watched the storms beat upon the grey rocks and hills, and listened to the shriek of the wild fowl as they fled to their places of refuge. And these had told her strange stories, stories which somehow blended with the scenes wThich she read out of the Bible on winter evenings, when the winds cried as they swept over moor and fen.

She did not trouble much about her looks. She had nothing to feed her vanity, she seldom went anywhere to see or to be seen, for the nearest town was a dozen miles away. Launceston lay on the one hand, Bodmin on the other, and Camelford on the other. Each of these were important places in their way, but she had never seen them. Consequently she had never heard the shriek of the railway engine, and knew nothing of the life of the world. AA'hen she went to Penwithen there was but little more to tell her of that life which to her was dreamland. It is true, Tintagel was becoming a popular resort for tourists, its wild, grand coast attracting more and more each year. But she seldom went there. She felt shy and awkward, and wondered why people TELLS _ jTOIK _I/_J_V SOZZ? ///_. 50 f/Z. 15 looked at her so.

But, nevertheless, the change of scene was a revelation to her, for here for the first time she saw the sea. She could go to the coast unmolested, too, for old Michael's land stretched down there. And she loved to roam alone, loved to clamber down the rugged cliffs, which here and there were sufficiently sloping to allow her to do so, until she came to the hard sea sand; and here she would stay and watch while the breakers dashed upon the great rocks that stood out on the beach, dark, and storm-beaten. All this Reuben found out, and he formed his plans accordingly. He gave up going to see Amelia Bassett, who wondered at his absence, and gave himself up to watch Judith Penrose. For several days no opportunity presented itself to him whereby he might be able to carry his plans into effect. He dared not try and make her acquaintance while old Michael was near, for he knew that the old man regarded both him and Ahaz, his father, as foes : therefore he wanted to meet her alone, and then he would translate his hopes into facts.

It so happened, however, that Reuben was able to meet her under more favourable circumstances than he dared to hope for. It came about in this wise. One evening Judith started for a walk on the shore, and Reuben, who had watched her movements closely, saw her cross the breezy "downs," and determined to follow her. AA'hen he reached the edge of the cliff, he saw her hundreds of feet below, sitting on a rugged rock, her face westward, watching while the sun sank into the sea. In spite of himself, his heart beat strangely, and he could not pluck up courage to scramble down the precipitous pathway, for, after all, she was a strange creature, and might meet his advances in a way that he would not like. And so he sat and watched her. She sat immovable, as the sinking sun lit up the sea with an indescribable glory, and watched till the last faint gleam had gone, and the waters looked dark again, save for an indistinct light which still rested upon the sheeny waves.

Then, seemingly unmindful that the twilight gathered, she roamed along the golden sands, ever and anon looking towards the foam-crested breakers. As soon as Reuben saw her rise and walk towards Tintagel, he hurried down and followed her as closely as he dared. He had not gone far when he saw two youths, who earned a living in the summer by fishing and rowing for tourists, and in the winter by farming, come out from a great hollow under the cliffs, and confronted her. They had reached that age when they regarded getting a sweetheart as the great event of life. Accordingly in a clumsy way they spoke to Judith, as lads of their position are in the habit of speaking to country lasses. Judith angrily bade them depart, and on their failing to do so she stamped her feet with rage. " AA'hy," exclaimed one youth to the other, " 'tes th'oull Michael Penrose's madwoman.

Ain't you he'rd ov her ? She's as mazed as a March hare." "So 'tes," said the other. " Then we ought to taake 'er 'ome saafe. Come, Betsey, come wi' we." It was a lonely spot. Tintagel was miles northward, while southward the coast was totally unpeopled. More over, the tide was coming in, and Judith scarcely knew which way to turn. Not that she was afraid ; she was used to wild scenes, and she had often met with uncouth people. Still these youths enraged her, and turning upon them, her eyes blazing with fury, she dared them to come a step nearer her. One ofthe lads would have left her, for. he did not like the look of the girl's eyes ; but the other was a bit of a wag, and had a bolder nature. TELLS HOW A MAN SOLD HIS SOUL, 17 " No, miss ; fair is fair. You must be our maid for a walk to Penwithen gates."