Her Love and his Life

Front matter

HER LOVE AND HIS LIFE. VOL. I. NEW AND POPULAR NOVELS AT ALL THE LIBRARIES. ON TRUST. By Thomas Cobb, author of ' Brownie's Plot,' -For Value Received,' &c. 3 vola. A LIFE SENTENCE. By Adeline Sergeant, author of 'Little Hiss Colwyn,' ' Jacobi's Wife,' &c. 3 vols. A LINE OF HEE OAVN. By Mrs. Connet, author of 'A Lady Horsebreaker.' 3 voIb. KESTELL OF GREYSTONE. By Esme Stuart, author of 'A Faire Damzell,' 'Muriel's Marriage,' &c. 3 vols. THE SECRET OF THE RIVER. By Dora Kcssell, author of 'Footprints in the Snow,' &e. - vols. LONDON : HURST & BLACKETT, LIMITED. HER hOVE AND HIS LIFE BY F. W. ROBINSON AUTHOR OF ' GRANDMOTHER'S MONET,' ' THE YOUNGEST MISS GREEN,' ' THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS,' ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1891. AU rights reserved. CONTENTS (IF THE FIRST VOLUME.

Book I

— PENGAVISSY COVE. CHAPTER PAGE I. The Visitor from Town .... 3 II. The Queen's Drawing-Room ... 15 III. Morning 33 IV. Ulric and Wilhelmina .... 43 V. • What would Brother Rudolph Think of it ?' 55 VI. A Good Effort 60 VII. A Little Argument 82 BOOK H. — THE NEW LIFE AND THE OLD. I. Watchers 95 II. The Rough Sketch 106 III. Mr. Consterdine's Opinion . . 115 IV. Father and Son 126 V. Springing the Mine 137 VI. 'All Up!' 149 Vn. Patty's Faith 160 VIII. Praters for Mike vi CONTENTS.

Book III

— THE HOUSE OF CONSTERDINE. I. Rudolph 183 II. In the Dining-Room .... 200 III. ' Forewarned, Forearmed "... 211 IV. The Paragraph in the ' Pilchard .own- Times ' 221 V. At the ' Smelters' Arms ' ... 234 VI. Mike's Instructions .... 244 VII. A Few Words Outside . . . .263 VIII. A Delicate Hint 270 IX. Sister Edith 278 X. The Truth of It

Book I. Pengavissy Cove

VOL. I. B

Chapter I. The Visitor From Town

It was winter time at Pengavissy when Michael Garwood came to the end of his journey. It was rough weather in Pengavissy Cove when Michael Garwood descended the pathway that led from the upland to Mr. Sampson Kerts's resi dence, a little wooden edifice which looked as if it had been blown askew by the wind, and was still cowering amongst the Cornish rocks away from it. Not an easy place to discover even in fine, dry, summer weather was the cottage of Sampson Kerts, serpentine worker, there being a cross cut of two miles over rough land to the sea-coast to begin with ; but Michael Garwood had been clever enough to find it in the dark. Certainly he had had time before him, having, B after a few inquiries, left the high-road early in the afternoon. He had not hurried himself; he had missed his way without taking the matter to heart, or using any pains to find it again, and it was possible — just possible — that he had waited for the darkness as for a something more congenial to his spirits, or appropriate to his present line of action.

For Michael Garwood was coming to Sampson Kerts on a speculative mission, and with many doubts upon his mind as to the warmth of the reception which awaited him. He had been preceded by a letter of introduction ; but it might not stand for much, considering what he was, and what Sampson Kerts was supposed to be. He did not think it would stand for much himself, and he was already prepared to retrace his steps up the steep incline after exchanging one or two words with his uncle Sampson, a gentle man whom he had not seen in his life, and whom he did not think he should care to see more than once, now that the push had come, and here was Pengavissy. Though the world from which he had wandered had never credited Michael Garwood with any degree of nervousness it was surely something of that feeling which prompted the traveller to sit down on the rugged boulders near the cottage, and stare moodily at the lighted lattice-window in front of him.

There was plenty of time; those early Cornish folk had not gone to bed ; he might as well think again what he should say, and how he should begin saying it, before they opened that black blank door to him. Sitting and thinking out his programme, quietly and patiently under the stars, he might have been taken by anyone upon the road that night for a part of the fantastic rocks by which he was surrounded. The cliffs were of wild shapes in this district, and for years had been wonder-points for the great gad-fly and tourist tribe which months ago had migrated hastily to town. And Michael sat there like a rock, too, as hard and cold, as jagged aud angular, as grim, mysterious and silent as the huge cliffs heaped right and left of him. It was chilly work, but he did not heed it ; the wind found out the leaky points of vantage in his wardrobe, but that was nothing new — it had been at that game from the day he had left Nicholson's Rents !

Here was rest, barring the sharp points of the serpentine rock on which he was sitting — here was for awhile even peace, bar the roar of the sea thundering and frothing away below in the darkness, amongst a thousand obstacles which Titans might have hurled at it in ages past, to stay its progress, or to stop its bellowing. Peace and rest were grateful to the wanderer, but, after all, they were peace and rest on an empty stomach, and presently Michael Garwood shook himself in a dog-like fashion that was peculiar to him, and rose to his feet — -his bare feet one might have been able to perceive by the light from the cottage window — and walked steadily to Kerts's cottage. There was no knocker to the door, only a rusty iron latch, which he rattled so vigorously by way of summons for admittance that a portion of it came off in his hand a second or two before the door was opened.

Then Sampson Kerts and his nephew were standing face to face, Sampson shading a tallow caudle from the wind. ' Who are you V said Sampson, a little roughly perhaps, but then Michael had startled him with his impetuous dash at the latch, and was standing before him with part of the property in his hand. ' I'm Mike,' was the short reply. ' Mike Garwood V ' That's it.' ' Oh, is it V Mr. Kerts backed from the open doorway into the room, and Mike, taking the retrograde movement as an invitation to advance, passed one naked and soiled foot across the threshold. ' Hold hard a moment,' shouted Mr. Kerts, and the foot was drawn back quickly ; ' there's nothing the matter with you, is there .' 'Nuffink the matter?' echoed Mike,interroga tively. ' Nothing catching — you're not getting over anything that you've had at the Rents V 'Nothing ketching — oh, no !' 'Come in then.

So that he brings no fevers or smallpoxes, Patty,' Mr. Kerts said, addressing some one in the room, ' we will put up with him for a bit, if and so be as he behaves him self.' Mike entered thus adjured, and in an indirect way thus admonished, leaving the door open behind him until he was told to shut it, which he did. Uncle and nephew regarded each other fur tively and critically — as two beings beginning life together for the first time might naturally regard each other ; whilst a little, dark-haired, dark-eyed girl looked at them from across a clean deal table On which a book was lying. Uncle and nephew were in striking contrast to each other — two widely dissimilar atoms of humanity indeed. The uncle was clean and trim, although in a workman's suit of clothes, a short, thick-set, sandy-haired and bearded man, with a freckled face, and huge, red hands, marked by many scars ; the nephew was a ragged and unkempt youth of some fifteen years of age, tall and gaunt, and hungry-looking, with a wild look in his grey eyes, as of an animal hard driven for shelter — a hunted look which might readily grow furious if he who wore it were brought suddenly to bay.

Sampson Kerts thought this, or something like this, at once, and hence it was not love at first sight which stirred his heart towards his nephew. Rather distrust and uncertainty, for Mike Garwood was not a pleasant object to behold in the full light, of the candle and fire. Certainly, Mr. Kerts had not been in London for many years, and the face of this gamin with its half-keenness, half-sullenness of expression, and its crust of dirt upon that, was a novelty to him, and a surprise. He had expected the visitor from town, but hardly in this fashion, or iu these wretched rags. ' I knew your mother was poor,' he said, doubtfully, at last ; ' but I didn't bargain for your being so hard up.' ' The wet and the walkings took a lot out ■of the togs,' Mike remarked, half-apologetically, as he glanced down at his habiliments ; ' they wasn't so bad when I started.' 'And you've walked all the way from London?' ' Yes — all the way.' ' It's a long spin — but you haven't hurried yourself.' ' No, I ain't been hurryin'.' ' You've been three weeks over it and a day,' said Sampson Kerts, decisively. 'I got work as I came along.' ' What work V ' I hadn't any of the needful, so I was forced to work my way along, yer see.' ' What work ?' repeated Mr. Kerts, who was a precise man, and liked his questions answered precisely. ' Any sort of work that turned up — I wasn't partikeler,' Mike said, with a short harsh laugh,. ' and I wasn't proud.' ' You haven't much to be proud of,' said Kerts, shortly. ' I never said I had !' was the quick answer back.

It was almost a defiant reply, too, or the sud den contraction of the eyebrows did Master Garwood an injustice. Sampson Kerts stared hard at him again, and then flipped an imaginary fly from his left ear, a habit of his when puzzled or disturbed, and which was so quick and un looked for that Mike went back a step, as if fearful of a blow. He was a boy who had been used to blows. ' You eau sit down,' said Mr. Kerts. Mike took a seat on the extreme edge of a rush-bottomed chair. ' And you eau take your cap off — it's con sidered the right thing to do in-doors.' Mike did not know that before, but he took his cap off at his uncle's request, and pulled at his side locks of hair, giving a number six twist to them with considerable ingenuity and rapid it)-. The little girl at the table watched the operation with interest, and Mike, puzzled by the little girl, and embarrassed by her presence, carefully avoided looking at anything but a highly-coloured print of ' Moses in the bulrushes' over her head. ' Now, let us see if we can understand each other — you and I,' said Mr. Kerts, in a more business-like way, as he leaned over the table and folded his large red hands together, ' and, Patty, you can get out the bread and cheese meanwhile.' Patty nodded, sprang from her chair, and went about her mission.

As she passed into a little room at the back, Michael Garwood said, ' Who's she V ' Never mind who's she at present. Let's get on. ' All right,' said Mike ; then he put on the table that portion of the door-latch which had been left in his clutch, and clasped his thin hands round his tattered knees. Mr. Kerts's eyes im mediately wandered to the broken latch. ' Did you smash that ?' he asked, ' It came off, somehow,' replied Mike, ' but I can mend it presently.' ' If you're clever with your hands, so much the better.' ' Clever with my hands — oh, yes ;' and here the short laugh came in again very unpleasantly. ' It's what your mother said. How is your mother?' asked Kerts, suddenly becoming aware that he had been tardy in his inquiries as to the health of Mrs. Garwood. ' Oh, she's all right,' said Mike, airily ' And father ?' ' He's all right — I s'pose,' was answered in a more doubtful fashion. ' You don't know then V said Mr. Kerts, sus piciously. ' I don't know.' ' Perhaps you don't care ?' 'No — and I don't care,' added the youth, with charming frankness. ' Why not ?' * Wot's the use of caring for the likes of him ?' was the rejoinder. ' Doesn't he care for you ?' ' Not a bit,' said the boy, in a sepulchral tone of voice which sounded very deep and strange, ' he never did, and I don't want him to.' ' Well, why should anybody care, Mike ?' asked Mr. Kerts. ' That's jest it.' ' Why should I, now ?' ' Blest if I know.

Blest if I think you do, if it comes to that,' remarked the sceptical visitor. ' I don't yet,' confessed Mr. Kerts, with a second flip to his ear. ' But though 1 don't like the looks of you at present, I'll tell you why it's possible I may get used to them.' The boy leaned forward, all attention to the explanation, and Mr. Sampson Kerts delivered his lecture forthwith. Patty, coming iu with the bread and cheese, stopped to hear it also, being interest ed in the case, and knowing that Sampson did not like any interruption to his discourse at any time, and if it could by any possibility be avoided.

Chapter II. The Queen's Drawing-room

4 In the first place,' Mr. Kerts commenced, ' your mother doesn't give you the best of characters. She says you're anything but what you ought to be. Is that correct ?' ' That's right enuf,' answered Mike, in a low tone, as of a youth very much surprised at the credentials which his uncle had received, ' but why the ' ' You needn't interrupt me,' said Mr. Kerts, ' that's what I never liked, and never shall like. It's not a nice character to come down into the country with, but as your mother knew that I should find out pretty sharp, it was as well to speak the truth for once.' He spoke, himself, as if the truth was not always strikingly perceptible in Mrs. Garwood, aud Mike did not contradict him. On the con trary, he nodded his head, as if agreeing with Mr. Kerts in every particular. ' Your mother and I are not the best of friends.

Years ago she wouldn't take my advice,' he said, conceitedly, 'and she suffered for it, just as I said she would, when she married your scamp of a father. She came to grief — the whole heap of you came to grief — just as I said you would too.' Mike nodded his head again. ' You've been an awful bad lot — you have been a-roasting and a-frying in the furnace of affliction a devil of a time,' Sampson exclaimed, with more excitement evident. Mike started at this vehement mixture of solemn Biblical reproof with language more familiar to him, but he caught the sense of it and nodded for the third time. ' That's jest it,' he added also. There was a pause, during which Mr. Kerts studied his nephew attentively, and Patty, taking advantage of the silence, placed the supper-tray upon the table. ' At last, and not before she wanted me, your mother wrote and asked if I would do something for you, before your father came back from his travels,' added Mr. Kerts, drily. ' She said you didn't agree with your father— which I'm not surprised at — and that murder might be the con sequence of you two coming together again.

She was in a mighty hurry to get rid of you — she thought the country air would do you good. She said you weren't afraid of work, if I could put hard work in your way, and it might help to save you from a bad bringing-up, and turn you out respectable, if I kept a tight hand over you as well.' ' She said all that — did she V muttered the listener, still very much bewildered, it was evident, at his mother's statements and his uncle's frankness; 'good lor!' ' Yes ; I wasn't to tell you this — but I like plain sailing and plain speaking. Don't you?' Mike looked away from his uncle's gaze. ' Never tried 'em,' he responded. ' Well, that's plain speaking, isn't it ?' ' I s'pose so,' said the boy, still sullenly, or still thinking of his mother. ' I don't know — quite.' ' I did not make up my mind to help you all VOL. I. C of a hurry — for I hadn't much hope of you, or her — and I knew I should be bringing trouble on myself.

I have talked it over with Patty here, and down in Pengavissy Cove. I thought it out at last in a solemn sort of way that you wouldn't understand. But,' he said, with a sudden raising of his voice which startled both Mike and the mysterious Patty, ' I wrote to Nicholson's Rents and said you could come on — but you'd have to work for your living, and might be of use iu good time, if you tried very hard. Now are you going to try ?' ' Yes, I'll try,' said Mike, in the same repressive tones. ' You don't look me in the face, and say it out downright,' said Mr. Kerts, sharply. ' I ain't used to yer yet,' was the muttered apology. ' Well — that's true, so we'll talk of work to morrow. All I want you now to understand is that I give you a chance to be something better than you are, though you'll find this life a rough one, and that I don't stand humbug.

I'm not a good-tempered man, and I see already that the tighter hand I keep on you, the better we shall work together presently. And now, don't, you think a clean face would be in your line a little bit?' Mike assented to this, as he had assented to everything which he had heard that night, and Mr. Kerts rose, opened the front door again and beckoned his nephew to follow him. They went together iDto the darkness, Mr. Kerts declining the candle which Patty offered, aud walked round to the back of the cottage, where the ground rose a little and where was a long outhouse, also built roughly of wood, with an inscription over it that was impossible to read at that hour. Mike looked up at it, however, in some surprise to perceive a painted facia there, and the uncle said : ' This is my shop, and " S. Kerts, Serpentine Worker," has been marked up on that board more than a score of years, and is known to everybody who comes this line of coast, and is a name very much respected.

It was there when your mother sneaked away without saying good-bye, and thinking me and home a good riddance, as I daresay you will. For,' and here his large hand came down on Mike's shoulder, c and rested on it heavily, ' I haven't any faith in you. But she shan't say I did not give you one chance. Nobody shall say that of Sam Kerts.' It is possible that Sam Kerts was lacking in discretion when he told his nephew by way of a beginning that he had not any faith in him ; it is not wisdom of a high order that starts from such a flinty standpoint. With this strange un malleable nature it acted as no warning ; the world had never trusted him, why should Uncle Kerts, with whom he had claimed kinship for the first time in his life ? Mr. Kerts passed his shop, the shutters of which were only taken down to admit light in the winter time whilst he worked at his craft — the fashioning of fancy ornaments from the rocks of the cove — and stopped at au outhouse on the left.

The door was open, and Mr. Kerts intro duced his arms into the interior and brought forth a pail of water, a piece of soap, and a rough towel. ' There you are ; make yourself as smart as you can before you come back,' he said, as he walked back towards his house. Mike washed his face and hands after this injunction as if the strength of will of his relative had mastered him for the nonce. Then he stood with the towel in his grasp thinking of the extempore sermon to which he had been treated. He brooded upon it, aud took no hope from it, not being in a hopeful mood after his long walk and the privations of a weary day. Life ahead of him seemed as dark as the night, and as unsympathetic as the cliffs which hung over him. He had not in all his life encountered love and kindness and charity — he had been treated harshly from his cradle side and grown up like a weed, but he was disappointed now for some reason beyond his power to analyse.

For the first time in his nomadic, gutter-bred existence he had come face to face with honesty, and it had scared him. He missed suddenly and sadly the crowded streets where the lights were, and the men and women and ' kids,' the stifling court where he had lived, the busy shops upon which he had turned his back, and the open shopboards from which he had filched his suppers. He went towards the sea at last as if drawn there by a spell. Men with some knowledge of Pengavissy Cove would have thought twice of descending the declivity in the pitch darkness, but Michael Garwood had no fear in that way. It was his want of knowledge that gave him the nerve to proceed, and twice he passed death by a hand's-breadth of loose shingly path, beyond which was a clear fall of a hundred and fifty feet, but he was unconscious of his danger.

In the broad daylight even the tourist trusted to his guide, but Mike went on in the darkness alone, and met with no mishaps by the way. He cut his feet with the sharp edges of the rocks, but this gave him no concern, and when it was all rock he broke into a run as if to abridge the distance between it and the sea, which he longed so suddenly to reach. Presently he was a foot deep in soft, white sand, and he knew then that he was at the bottom of the cliffs, and shut in by them, as it seemed, on all sides. It was hard guessing where the sea was, the bay was so full of boulders and shaft-like pinnacles which in the darkness might stand for giant sentinels watch ful of a weak mortal's misery. He could hear the thunder of the surf close to him, and now and then a heavy drift of sea-spray came at him like a warning.

Suddenly he heard voices calling to him, a hoarse shout and a shrill falsetto that must have proceeded from Patty, and this increased his anxiety to get away. He ran along the sand and over long low reefs of serpentine, falling many times ; he dashed into level sweeps of sand again ; he paddled a foot deep in water to more rocks — the sea roaring loudly, and he very close upon it. He was on the edge of a rough cliff at last with the waves dashing and fretting against it and trying to o'er-leap it. As he stood there, they rose up like a something eager for prey and dashed at him sweeping him backwards and swirling over him and along the surface of the cliff into the sea again. Mike scrambled to his feet, and shook the water from him in the dog-like fashion we have seen before ; then went slowly towards the edge again, dazed, stupefied, but irresistibly attracted.

At the same moment two little hands clutched his arm and drew him from the brink. ' Come away — come away at once, you silly fellow,' said the sharp voice of Patty in his ear, and Patty, wild and dishevelled, and with a hat hanging by two strings down her shoulders, stood trembling at his side. ' Oh ! is that you?' he asked, in a gruff voice. ' Yes — yes, step further back, or we'll be washed into the sea. Don't you know the tide is coming up all round us.' ' What's the odds V ' You'll be drowned — oh, you'll be drowned. Daddy Kerts,' she screamed, suddenly, ' I've found him !' ' Where is he ? Where are you, Patty ? Why did you run away from 'me, you little fool?' roared a hoarse voice several yards below them. ' We're on the Capstan Rock.' 'Good Lord!' exclaimed Mr. Kerts, 'keep as far back as you can.

Don't try to come down again ; the sea's through the Mouse-hole, and will drown you.' ' Oh, what shall we do now ? I'm getting so frightened,' said the impulsive Patty. ' What's there to be skeered about ?' asked Mike, interested in the alarm of his companion. • We can't get back till the tide ebbs, and it's on the flow for four more hours. And it's all through you — you naughty, bad boy !' ' What made yer come arter me ?' asked Mike, curiously. ' We were afraid you'd get killed in the dark. Dad said you'd run away, and gone down to the sea.' ' I wasn't worth looking for, young 'un,' said Mike, thoughtfully. ' Yes, you were.' ' 'Pon my soul, I wasn't.' ' But you would have got drowned.' ' I came down here to drown myself, o' course.' ' Oh, no, no, no ! Oh, Daddy Kerts, do come !' Patty screamed forth at this, ' oh, do come — do!' The child's agony of mind was pitiable to witness.

She had never in her life confronted a nature so desperate and reckless as this — a mere boy to talk of death as lightly as he might talk of sleep. ' Hold 'ard, don't make a row. I won't cut it now you're here,' said Mike, alarmed in his turn at the child's quick outcry. ' Cut what ? Oh, throw the knife away, please !' ' I ain't got no knife. I won't cut it into the water, I mean,' Mike further explained, ' if — if yer don't want me.' ' Oh, no — no, not for the world ! Please don't drown yourself to-night, and leave me all alone too.' Patty in her distress was a little selfish per haps ; at her age, and despite her sex, this was in some degree excusable. And, after all, there had been a touch of heroism, imperfect and im pulsive, in clambering to the Capstan Rock to save this waif; and what is more she was not sorry that she had come, afraid of the night and of her position, and of Mike Garwood, as she was. ' We're not safe here at all,' she said, with a shiver; 'in another ten minutes this will be covered with water.' ' It's a rum sort of a place,' was Mike's com mentary. ' What's the blessed use of it ?' Patty did not attempt to satisfy any of his doubts as to the use of anything, animate or in animate, just then ; she was anxious to secure a safer resting-place until the tide went down in Pengavissy Cove. ' We shall have to find the Drawing-room now,' she said. ' Find the what ?' Mike exclaimed. ' The Queen's Drawing-room, where the tide only comes once or twice in a month, and when the wind drives from the south-west.

It's up there.' ' A drorin' room?' ' A big hole in the cliff. Haven't you heard of it?' ' Can't say as how I have,' he said, in a half apologetic manner. ' It's up there — somewhere,' said Patty, point ing to the grim rocks jutting above them. ' I thought I could find it with my eyes shut, but I can't. Hark !' The voice of Mr. Kerts was heard shouting forth various instructions to them, but the wind had risen and the sea had grown hoarse too, with the strength of its oncoming tide. It was impossible to understand a word. Doubtless he was also instructing them to seek refuge in the ' Drawing-room,' and they both called back to him that they were going there, with what result to his comprehension they did not know till the next day. 'I have found the path,' cried Patty, suddenly. ' Take hold of my hand, Mike, and if I slip pull me hard towards you.

Keep very close behind me— there are ghosts and pixies here, and I shouldn't like to meet any of them to night. Should you V ' I don't think the ghosts would frighten me much, but wot's the pigskins like ?' ' Oh ! don't talk about them now. This way.' The two went cautiously along a narrow ledge to higher ground, to a winding-path that broke off suddenly into ruts of rock, and which finally necessitated a long skip and jump into a deep, dark cavern in the cliff. Here they were safe unless the tide rose with extra fury that night, when two poor souls would be surely trapped to death. * This is the Drawing-room, Mike,'said Patty, by way of introduction. ' It's dark enuf for a coal-cellar.1 ' Many and many a time in the summer weather, and when the tide's down, I climb up here and sit and think, and look out at the sea, Mike.