For the King's Dues

Chapter I. Between Tides

" Ye gods of seas, if any gods at all Have care of griefs, or ruth of wretches wrong, By one or other way, me, woeful thrall, Deliver hence out of this durance strong." Faerte Queene. 6 MlSS Blunt, like many another person since her time, had forgotten the hour and all that surrounded her in Goldsmith's matchless tale. It was the year of grace 1782, and the bopk was fresh from the printers. I have now a volume of the first edition of the Vicar of Wakefield before me, worn by the hands of many readers ; one can scarce help feeling some reverence for it, thinking of the hearts, now quiet, that it has stirred, how they have a ceased to beat in sympathy with anything in this shifting world, while the story still remains so fresh, and its scenes still move with life. The volume Miss Blunt held on her knees, and over which her fair face was bent, reflecting like a mirror the passion of the tale, was a new copy with many uncut pages.

She had found for her reading a covert such as a sea nymph might have chosen. If you sailed round the British kingdom, you could not light on a lovelier or a lonelier. It was the mouth of a sea cave on the coast of Sark. Miss Blunt had been playing cards all morning, if the truth must be spoken ; and indeed, in those days, it was a recognized amusement of ladies of rank ; and Miss Dolly Carrell, the Seigneur's pretty niece, played with so much skill, that Amice Blunt, tired with the monotony of being always beaten in the game, joyously accepted the Rector's invitation to return home with him, and choose a book from his shelves. He had said to Miss Carrell, as he and Amice CH. I.] BETWEEN TIDES. 3 passed the drawing-room windows, that he and his wife should keep Miss Blunt at the Rectory, and that he would bring her and her books home on the morrow.

But after an hour spent in the book room, where she flitted from shelf to shelf, dipping into quartos and duodecimos, as a bee sips from every flower, Amice, a little remorseful for her abrupt desertion of Dolly, declared her intention of returning to the Seig neurie forthwith. With the bright new volume in her hand, which was to serve as a peace offering to Dolly, she tripped away by the side of the good-natured old Rector, who led her as far as the Shrubbery gate, about a quarter of a mile from the Seigneurie, or Manor House itself. But even after the reverend figure with shovel hat and silver-headed cane had left her, Amice Blunt was scarcely alone ; she had opened the magic pages, and a new world was springing about her. She was listening to the loquacious wisdom of the Vicar; the Squire had just entered; Sophia and Olivia were smiling and fluttering at his fine speeches.

So accompanied, she had turned down a narrow path leading to the shore, and wandering on, had reached her present nook, unconscious of sea or sky, or the soft sunshine of the summer afternoon. She read on. The sound of the tide was no more to her than some pleasant voice may be to a dreaming sleeper who knows he dreams and wishes to dream on. The light glowed more mellow as the sun sank lower; and across the feathery plumes of spray that leapt up and fell in soft showers, after the booming shock of each wave, rainbows began to play. The tide was drawing up to shore with even fuller strength; and these fair creatures of the mist, bright as Ariel or the sea nymphs, might have been the messengers sent forward to herald his approach, as they sprang a moment into sight, vanished, and reappeared, so airy, so exquisite, so whimsical, above the tumult of the restless waters.

But Amice saw neither their beauty nor their meaning. A forward wave, running up beyond his fellows, swept away the hat which lay at her feet. It was a gay piece of finery, such as you may see in Romney's picture of ch. i. J BETWEEN TIDES. 5 Lady Hamilton shading that pretty arch face with its bows and drooping lace. Indeed, Amice Blunt curled up on the rocky ledge was such a figure as Romney or Sir Joshua loved to paint. Miss Blunt paid no heed to her lost finery. In truth, she did not see the theft ; and the hat danced away, and was carried by the eddy far out among the rocks, a wonder to the sea birds. The tide had reached the shadow of the cliff, and the rainbows ceased their play. Some drops of spray had touched the lace and ribbons on the girl's skirts ; still she sat on unheeding, till suddenly a heavy wave, gathering the strength of all those that had gone before, rolled up and washed her feet.

She started, and looked round in amazement. Fairyland vanished, and upon her startled senses the actual world rushed with a shock. Some creeping stealthy power had changed the world since she sat down. The wild dancing waters were about her on every side, covering the rocks that were dry and warm in the sunshine when she [ch. I. 6 FOR THE KING'S DUES. tripped over them two hours ago. The narrow shingly path round the face of the cliff by which she had reached her present place was now swal lowed in the waves. The wind blew fresh from the sea. The sun was sinking. The sea spread unbroken to the far horizon ; not a sail was in sight. She turned from one side to the other in her terror to find some means of escape. The walls of the cave projected towards the sea ; the tide had already, as we said, reached the side by which she had come.

On the other side the wall of the cave was surrounded by a dark pool of still water left by the tide, so dark and deep and impenetrable, that in her absorbing terror Amice shuddered to look into it. She raised her eyes. Could she climb the cliff? It frowned down upon her like the face of an executioner. No human foot could scale its battlements. Behind her was the cave. She could retreat before the enemy into it ; but in its dark recesses the tangles of seaweed and the pool of water showed that it could follow her thither ; and to seek a refuge there might CH. I.] BETWEEN TIDES. 7 only be to seek a place of slow and agonizing death. And now the sea was stealing away inch by inch the narrow space in front of the cave, and driving her into its hideous jaws. In the terror of that moment the young lady showed she had both sense and courage.

She scrambled to the farthest point of rock that would, she calculated, be still safe for several minutes from the rising waves, and sent out her voice to left and right in a shrill cry for help. The face of the cliff threw back the sound in a mocking echo, and made it seem but the cry of the sea birds as they sought their nests in hundreds for the night. She rapidly thought over her position, and the possibilities of rescue. Perhaps a fisherman might have been on the sea ; but the sound of the tide rising in among the rocks seemed to mock the idea, — no boat was in sight. Some one might be passing on the downs above; but she remembered with a sickening heart that in coming she had passed no human habitation, and not one living creature had she met. The waves were rising higher. She cried aloud again and again ; they had reached her feet, they danced merrily, and leaped over her little high-heeled shoes and bright clasps.

The spray fell in a crisp shower over her. Twice again she cried aloud for help, and then sprang back to her old position, leaving one of her shoes behind her. As one faint hope after another was snatched away, her terror drove her to and fro, now to the dark horror of the pool on the left, now to the stormy eddy of water that flanked the right side of the cave, to find some means of escape yet undiscovered. But now one huge wave, breaking the ranks of his fellows, slowly lifted his dark head, plunged with a shock against the rock on which she had stood a moment before, and poured a torrent of water over its broad face. The seaweed swayed and rocked in the tumult of the onset, and the wild waters seemed to sing in their triumph. Amice sank down before them on the' shingle in front of the cave ; and as she dropped her head on her hands, a hideous vision of her approaching doom froze all her faculties.

She CH. l] BETWEEN I IDES. 9 hid her eyes from that growing terror of shining water that seemed to be laughing her into ■ mad ness. - Suddenly she started, called by some sound pro ceeding from the far depths of the cave. She listened — a human voice, answered by low and hollow echoes of the cave. The sounds drew nearer and nearer. Was it possible to add a new horror to her position, and was there approaching out of the darkness some monster more terrible than the sea ? Slowly moving out of the gloom, like a shadow of the place, came the form of a living creature. Was it a phantasy born of terror ? The figure was strange enough to have had no other origin. It moved towards her, stepping lightly over the slimy stones and seaweed, into the fuller light, and paused. Had a sea sprite, dropping her rainbow tints, sunk into a wild and melancholy human form, this might have been one.

A girl — in tattered brown dress, wet and clinging to her slender shape, her hair hanging loose round a sunburnt face, lit up with large dark eyes! Round her waist was wound a fantastic garland of seaweed, and her dark hair had the same wild decoration ! Her naked feet clung round the rock on which she balanced herself, and regarded the pale face of the young lady who lay abandoned to her despair upon the shingle. For a moment they looked at each other. Amice Blunt started up and moved towards her. Strange and wild as her companion might be, she was still a human creature, a companion in this strange misfortune by which she found herself sur rounded. Perhaps she knew of some secret entrance to the cave by which they might escape. For the girl's face, though full of amazement as she regarded Amice, showed no sign of fear.

The hope gave Miss Blunt fresh strength. " Where did you come from ? " she cried. The girl shook her head. Amice repeated the question, remembering that the people of the island only spoke a French patois, and rarely understood a word of English. The girl pointed to the darkness at the far end of ,the cave. " Oh, show me the way out — show me where to go !" cried Amice, trying to help out her meaning by gestures. Her words seemed scarcely comprehended ; the girl only looked at her in amazement, and shook her head. Was she crazed ? Her large eyes had a look of almost wild astonishment, as she regarded the young lady lying prone in her gay dress on the shingle. " See, see," said Amice, " see how the tide is rising ; see how the waves have caught my hat and carried it away ! They will reach us soon !

Come — come, and show me the way out, if you know one." And she caught her hand and drew her towards the farthest end of the cavern. But her strange companion only shook her head, and made a sound which seemed like dissent. " O God, be merciful !" cried Amice ; "she is mad." Whatever chance of escape there might be, she [ch. I. FOR THE KING'S DUES. 12 must seek it for herself. She had known the island only a few days, but she had already heard of the mysterious way in which the caves wound about, and how sometimes they had more than one entrance. She groped her way into the recesses over the slimy rocks and slippery seaweed. Twice she slipped into the shallow pool, but on all sides there was only darkness, and the dripping walls of the cavern closed her in on every side. She climbed — terror giving her strength — to a high ledge near the roof of the cavern ; but though the shelf of rock was perhaps above the high water line, it was too narrow to allow her to squeeze herself into.

And should one have courage — if one could get there — to wait all through the dreadful hours while the tide rose and fell^perhaps after all the agony of waiting to find oneself still within reach, to feel oneself sucked down by the horrible dark water ? Her head turned giddy at the thought, and she slid down. The deep lace ruffling that adorned her sleeve caught on the rocks, and was left hanging among a fringe of seaweed on the highest point. The last hope was fairly exhausted now, and she sank down once more on the stones, without noticing her companion, with a cry of despair, and buried her face in her hands. Death was close upon her now, and she lay still. The girl, standing at some paces distant, watched her with wondering eyes. She seemed to be dis tressed, and not to comprehend the meaning of Miss Blunt's attitude of despair.

She looked out to sea, and then going to the edge of the pool at the cave's mouth, she stooped down and measured the depth of water with her arm. The still dark waters were already disturbed with the waves which had begun to pour themselves into it. She nodded her head, and looked anxiously towards Amice, who remained motionless. She approached her timidly, and touched her on the shoulder. Her despair, however, was too deep to be aroused by a mere touch, and she did not stir. The girl, with increased anxiety in her looks, was FOR THE ICING'S DUES. [CH. I. 14 about to take her hand, then hesitated and took hold of her dress, and tried to raise her from the ground. Amice looked up with vacant eyes. Some thing in the wistful entreaty of her companion's eyes roused her. The girl pointed to the sea with looks of alarm, and showed by gestures that she fully under stood the danger, and urged a change of position.

Scarcely knowing what she did, Amice rose and followed her to the edge of the pool. The girl's incoherent utterances, her wild looks of entreaty and alarm, only deepened the conviction in the mind of Amice that she was mad. As she held back, the girl became more and more vehement, and tried to drag her nearer to the pool. Then she spoke rapidly in an incoherent way, from which Amice could only gather that she warned her of the rising of the tide, and urged upon her some fact with regard to the pool, pointing to its hidden depths. " Oh, I know it is deep!" cried Amice in her agony. " What does it matter ? It is worse than the sea ! " And then she screamed aloud as she saw the girl gather up her skirts above her knees and step boldly down into the pool. She seemed to find some in visible foothold, for which she felt cautiously and skilfully with her naked feet.

It was evidently her purpose to cross the pool by secret ledges and rocks hidden beneath the water. But the moment for such a perilous transit was gone ; already the tide was pouring in at the lower end, stirring the water into tumult, and her slight figure was swayed like a reed by its force. She perceived her danger, and with a dexterous bound sprang back to her former place. and scrambled up the rock to Amice's feet. " Trop tard," she said, " trop tard !" Amice stood gazing at this strange creature whom she now no longer feared, mad though she might be. The girl wrung out her dress, and gazing round from right to left, threw up her arms, a gesture that ex pressed better than any impassioned exclamation that hope of escape was gone, and yet that her heart within had not failed her. Her lips moved rapidly, and she shook her head.

She might, as she stood in that wild fantastic garb, have been the familiar spirit of the place, that recognized in the sea, her master — a master whose will and violence she partly understood. Inspired by some new motive, she began now to gather up the largest among the loose stones, and to pile them into a firm square heap at that highest and farthest end of the cave, where a small space of dryer shingle showed that it might be beyond the reach of the tide. The stones were heavy, but she worked zealously, taking those nearest to the sea first. Some were so heavy that she staggered under their weight, but she still went on, and only paused once or twice to regard Amice with wondering eyes, as she sat with her head buried on her knees. Once she approached her, and timidly took her hand, and pointing to the encroaching waves, drew her several yards farther into the cave.

Thus to leave the daylight, and to be driven back into the gloom, could scarcely add a new horror to Miss Blunt's position, but it forced on her a new consciousness of it, and the mere gloom itself seemed to gather round her like a visible embodiment of that despair that was creeping slowly over her with stifling and inevitable strength. Even the power of suffering seemed benumbed. The picture of the Vicarage library, and the walk to the shrubbery gate, now separated from her by the wide gulf, played before her mind with vivid clearness. Little trivialities of the day danced before her, even while the monotonous roll of the waves, as they sucked higher and higher in the shingle, marked the passing minutes, like the swaying of some great in visible pendulum. Time and Death together, like companion spectres, were approaching hand in hand.

The sun had set, and the girl moved to and fro like a growing shadow. Hollow echoes began to follow her footsteps as she moved over the stones ; and as the tide entered the cave a dull response sounded from its far depths, as if another ocean, roused from its sleep by a familiar call, had risen to meet it, and soon the dim vaults echoed and re-echoed with trie roll and thunder of many waters. Tumult and B darkness seemed to have met in their own haunt, and to hold a horrible revel. The wind entering by narrow ways lent its voice and proclaimed chaos. Maddened into consciousness and a frenzied desire to escape from this abyss of terrors, and to once more see the green earth, Amice sprung to the mouth of the cave. There lay the dark plain of waters brim ming to the horizon. A few stars were out.

She screamed aloud, cry after cry, not as she had cried before, but driven by a close pressing horror that lay before and behind, that whispered, and thundered, and laughed in her ears. Oh for some kind human ear to hear the call ! But no ; her cry went out into the very face of solitude itself. Suddenly, as by a lightning flash, her soul was pierced by hope. Was there not a hand, stretched above to shelter? Lord God Omnipotent, stronger than the sea, stronger than terror, stronger than death. She sank down, crushed with that overpowering image in her soul, and lay as one dead. Minutes or hours, she could not tell which, had passed when she was roused by feeling herself raised from the ground and laid against something soft and warm. It was the breast of her companion ; Amice could only faintly see her face in the starlight.

There was kindness in it, and no look of fear. It was human, and did not speak of horror or dismay. Amice lay with her eyes fastened upon it, and drunk from that simple source strange comfort. She held one of the girl's hard hands in her own. They were, it seemed, to die to gether. At last the girl rose, and led her, stumbling as they went, towards the end of the cave, to the pile of stones she had so carefully made. On to this she climbed, and helped Amice up after her, and they crouched together on what seemed like a funeral pyre. Amice was very still, her young frame was cold and exhausted, and the roar and tumult about her would have drowned her voice had she tried to speak. She still clasped the hand of her companion; [CH. I. FOR THE KING'S DUES. 20 the hand was very warm, and soon warmed her own slender palm.

The water had advanced two yards into the cave, and was rising, sucking and booming against the seaweed fringed sides. The air had become closer as the water rose — it was heavy and oppressive. Only a narrow space of starlit sky showed now, ever growing narrower as the dark line of water swelled higher ; and the waves were now washing the base of their seat. The girl laid herself on the stones, and stretched her arms down to measure the distance it had yet to rise before it reached them. She lifted herself, and turned to Amice, shouting something in her ear which she could not understand ; twice again at intervals she did the same thing ; a strange incoherence obscured her utterance, and she spoke in French. The last time after she had leaned over and measured the distance, she cried, close to Amice's ear, " C'est la haute maree.

Elle descend, elle descend ! Nous sommes sauvees!" She seemed agitated by the effort to make herself understood. Amice at last understood her meaning, and it came upon her with a suddenness that made her head reel. Life, happiness, all re-opened upon her like a sudden light that dazzles and bewilders. She wept wild tears of joy, and poured forth in coherent words of gratitude to Heaven. As she grew more calm she began to see the meaning of all her companion's actions, which in her terror and despair she had scarcely noticed, or which she had regarded as the vagaries of a disordered brain. She saw now that her strange friend had been more alive to the perils of their fate than she had been, and that all her movements had been guided by a quiet intelligence throughout. She drew nearer to her, and they leaned shoulder to shoulder, speaking at intervals as the water fell, and the roar and tumult subsided.

It was with difficulty that Amice under stood the stammering words of her companion, but she seemed to comprehend Amice quickly ; and Amice soon perceived that even in the darkness [CH. I. FOR THE KING'S DUES. 22 the girl made her meaning clear by rapid gestures with her hands. So they sat for an hour or more. The air began to get colder as the tide sank, and let in the wind from the sea. The receding waves were much quieter than those of the rising tide had been. " The night is calm," said the girl. " If it had been stormy it would have been bad for us." " How long will it be before it is quite down ?" " Five hours and more ; but I know how to get away at the half tide, through the pool to the left." "The one you waded into and were nearly drowned in ?" "Yes; it is easy if you know the ledges.

I will show Mademoiselle. Hush ! " She stopped suddenly, and becajne rigid with attention. She slid down from her seat, and crept over the wet shingle, and listened again with her head near the ground. There was the noise of innumerable waves, great and small, but through it all came the soft sound of regular oar beats. The girl's breath came short. That stealthy sound seemed to have more power to alarm her than the angry sea had had. And now before the mouth of the cave, twenty yards from shore, there floated across the starlit sky a dark shadow — an open boat rowed by two muffled figures. They passed, and all was silent. Amice's first thought was to call to the men for help, but as she stumbled forward over the stones to do so, her companion seized her dress, and in a terrified whisper begged her to keep still ; and then she stood still, holding Amice tight, in breathless terror, till they had passed.

" Les jaugeurs ! " * she whispered. It was some time after they had sat silently listening that the girl's agitation seemed entirely to subside. She moved restlessly to and fro, and strained her eyes into the transparent darkness of the summer night, as if in anxious fears of the mysterious boat again appearing. Amice Blunt, seated on the shingle, watched the * The Coastguard of the Islands. falling tide, and the sky in which the stars still shone bright, though, in the east, faint streaks of light signalled the coming dawn. New thoughts were rising in her young heart, trembling and faint as those first signs in the east, but, like them, signs of the rising of a new day. Her body, exhausted, and worn with the exposure and terror of that night, seemed to have sunk into unconsciousness and rest, while her spirit sat at Heaven's gate and listened to the strains from within, and before her eyes God worked again his miracle of light.

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the rattle of a pistol shot. Had then the horrors of the night not yet ended ? The two girls moved together, and listened in speechless terror as the echoes died out among the rocks. The girl, so fearless before the dangers of the sea, crept back into the cave as if to hide herself. Amice, leaning over the rock at the cave's mouth, looked out, started back, and then looked again from her place. She could see a stretch of rocky broken shore, a ragged, narrow pathway be tween the sea and the cliffs. In the faint gray light she saw two figures rapidly approaching. In the twilight it was impossible to discern more than that the former of the two was a young and agile man, from the way in which he ran leaping over pools and rocks in his way. His pursuer seemed to be losing ground, but still pressed on.

The man in front ran as if life or liberty depended on his speed. Amice gazed, fascinated by terror and interest on the wild race. A point of cliff that projected into the sea cut off the path; but the fugitive, undaunted, suddenly springing to a point of rock, plunged head long into the sea. For a moment or two he was gone, but presently he reappeared above the water, swimming manfully in the breakers, and making towards the place where Amice stood. Her pale face and pink finery were just becoming visible in the dawning light. She sank down behind the rock that screened her from view. Was the man making for the cave ? Perhaps he had sunk among the wild chaos of rocks : but no. Her eyes grew wide with horror as a human face appeared moving slowly across the smooth space of waters before the cave ; each long even stroke of the swimmer raising his chin and shoulders above the water.

The colour less face, the set lips, the straining eyes showed that he was well nigh spent, and he was so near that she could hear his panting breathing. It was the face of a creature sore bestead ; and in Amice's heart pity rose above her fear. Suddenly, as if called by the intent compassionate eyes, the man looked up, and for a moment they regarded each other. He passed on and vanished among the rocks ; and Amice, pale and trembling, slipped down from the strange perch of observation. But nothing further broke the peace and still ness. All terrors seemed to melt before the glory of the breaking morning, and the first sunbeams that lit up the sea into joy and warmth. And now the tide had sunk below the pool, and the waters were again still, and the girl began to make preparations for crossing.

She knelt and un clasped Amice's remaining shoe, throwing it to the other side of the pool; then, fastening her com panion's dress up securely round her waist to pre vent its impeding her movements, she gathered up her own skirts and stepped into the water with fearless decision. Amice followed her example, and holding her hand tightly, passed securely from ledge to ledge — the girl feeling cautiously with her feet for a firm footing before she let Amice take a step. She soon found why the girl had removed her shoe ; with that stiff sole and high heel it was impossible that she could have stood firmly on the slippery beds of seaweed, and narrow ledges of rock. Amice, weak and exhausted, could not, even had she known of that hidden pathway beneath the waters, have made the passage without her dexterous guide ; and at the last step, when the farther side was almost reached, had not her com panion dragged her to the ledge, she would inevitably have slipped from her narrow foothold.