Frenchmans Creek - Daphne du Maurier

"Where did you hear that?"

"Well, Rockingham brought back a story in town one day. Met a cousin of George Godolphin's. How is Godolphin?"

"A little out of temper when I saw him last."

"So I should think. He sent me a letter a while back, which I forgot to answer. And now his brother-in-law has lost a ship, it seems. Do you know Philip Rashleigh?"

"Not to speak to, Harry."

"Well, you'll meet him soon. I invited him over here. We met him in Helston yesterday. He was in a devil of a temper, and so was Eustick, who was with him. It seems this infernal Frenchman sailed the vessel straight out of Fowey harbour, right under the nose of Rashleigh and Godolphin. What infernal impudence, eh? And then off to the French coast, of course, with not a damned ship in pursuit. God knows what the vessel was worth, she was just home from the Indies."

"Why did you invite Philip Rashleigh here?"

"Well, it was Rockingham's idea really. 'Let's take a hand in the game,' he said to me, 'you're an authority, you know, in this part of the world. And we might have some sport out of it.' 'Sport?' says Rashleigh, 'you'd think it sport no doubt if you'd lost a fortune like I've done.' 'Ah,' says Rockingham, 'you're all asleep down here. We'll catch the fellow for you, and then you'll have sport enough.' So we'll hold a meeting, I thought, and collect Godolphin and one or two others, and set a trap for the Frenchman, and when we've caught him we'll string him up somewhere, and give you a laugh."

"So you think you'll succeed, Harry, where others have failed?"

"Oh, Rockingham will think of something. He's the fellow to tackle the job. I know I'm no damn use, I haven't got a brain in my head, thank God. Here, Dona, when are you going to get up?"

"When you have left the room."

"Still aloof, eh, and keeping yourself to yourself? I don't get much fun out of my wife, do I, Duke? Hi, then, fetch a slipper, where is it, boy, go seek, go find," and throwing Dona's shoe across the room he sent the dogs after it, and they fought for it, yapping and scratching, and returning, hurled themselves upon the bed.

"All right then, we'll go, we're not wanted, dogs, we're in the way. I'll go and tell Rockingham you're getting up, he'll be as pleased as a cat with two tails. I'll send the children to you, shall I?"

And he stamped out of the room, singing loudly, the dogs barking at his heels.

So Philip Rashleigh had been in Helston yesterday, and Eustick with him. And Godolphin too must have returned by now. She thought of Rashleigh's face as she had seen it last, scarlet with rage and helplessness, and his cry, "There's a woman aboard, look there," as he stared up at her from the boat in Fowey Haven, and she, with the sash gone from her head, and her curb blowing loose, had laughed down at him, waving her hand.

He would not recognise her. It would be impossible. For then she was in shirt and breeches, her face and hair streaming with the rain. She got up, and began to dress, her mind still busy with the news that Harry had given her. The thought of Rockingham here at Navron, bent on mischief, was a continual pin-prick of irritation, for Rockingham was no fool. Besides, he belonged to London, to the cobbled streets, and the playhouses, to the overheated, overscented atmosphere that was St. James's, and at Navron, her Navron, he was an interloper, a breaker of the peace. The serenity of the place was gone already, she could hear his voice in the garden beneath her window, and Harry's too, they were laughing together, throwing stones for the dogs. No, it was done with and finished. Escape was a thing of yesterday. And La Mouette might never have returned after all. The ship might still have lain becalmed and quiet off the coast of France, while her crew took the Merry Fortune into port. The breakers on the white still beach, the green sea golden under the sun, the water cold and clean on her naked body, and after swimming, the warmth of the dry deck under her back, as she looked up at the tall, raffish spars of La Mouette stabbing the sky.

Then there were knockings on the door, and the children came in, Henrietta with a new doll that Harry had brought her, and James stuffing a rabbit into his mouth, and they flung themselves upon her with small hot hands and generous kisses. Prue curtseying in the background with anxious enquiries for her health, and somewhere, thought Dona, as she held them to her, somewhere there is a woman who cares for none of these things, but lies upon the deck of a ship and laughs with her lover, and the taste of salt is on their lips, and the warmth of the sun and the sea. "My doll is nicer than James's rabbit," said Henrietta, and James, jigging up and down on Dona's knee, his fat cheek pressed against hers, shouted "No, no, mine, mine," and taking his rabbit from his mouth hurled it in his sister's face. So then there were tears, and scoldings, and reconciliations, and more kisses, and a finding of chocolate, and much fuss and chatter, and the ship was no more, and the sea was no more, but Lady St. Columb of Navron, with her hair dressed high off her forehead, and clad in a soft blue gown, descended the stairs to the garden below, a child in either hand.

"So you have had a fever, Dona?" said Rockingham, advancing towards her, and kissing the hand she gave him. "At all events," he added, drawing back to look at her, "it was a most becoming fever."

"That's what I say," said Harry. "I told her so upstairs, she's got a tan on her like a gypsy," and bending down he seized the children, bearing them high on his shoulder, and they screamed delightedly, the dogs joining in the clamour.

Dona sat down on the seat on the terrace, and Rockingham, standing before her, played with the lace at his wrists.

"You don't appear very delighted to see me," he said.

"Why should I?" she answered.

"It's some weeks since I saw you," he said, "and you went off in such an extraordinary way, after the escapade at Hampton Court. I suppose I did something to offend you."

"You did nothing," she said.

He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, and shrugged his shoulders. "What have you been doing with yourself down here?" he asked. Dona yawned, watching Harry and the children as they played on the lawn with the dogs. "I have been very happy," she said, "alone here, with the children. I told Harry, when I left London, that I wanted to be alone. I am angry with the both of you for breaking my peace."

"We have not come entirely for pleasure," said Rockingham, "we are here on business as well. We propose catching the pirate who seems to be giving you all so much trouble."

"And how do you propose doing that?"

"Ah, well… we shall see. Harry is quite excited at the idea. He's been getting bored with nothing to do. And London in midsummer stinks too much, even for me. The country will do us both good."

"How long do you propose to stay?"

"Until we have caught the Frenchman."

Dona laughed, and picking a daisy from the grass, began tearing off the petals. "He has gone back to France," she said.

"I think not," said Rockingham.

"Why so?"

"Because of something that fellow Eustick was saying yesterday."

"The surly Thomas Eustick? What had he to say?" said Dona.

"Only that a fishing craft from St. Michael's Mount had reported seeing a vessel in the early hours of yesterday morning, making towards the English coast."

"Slender evidence. Some merchantman returning from abroad."

"The fisherman thought not."

"The coast of England goes a long way, my dear Rockingham. From the Land's End to the Wight is a precious stretch to watch."

"Yes, but the Frenchman leaves the Wight alone. It seems he leaves everything alone, but for this narrow strip of Cornwall. Rashleigh will have it that he has even visited your Helford river here."

"He must do it by night then, when I am in bed and asleep."

"Possibly he does. At any rate, he will not dare to do it much longer. It will be vastly amusing to stop his little game. I suppose there are many creeks and inlets round your coast here?"

"No doubt. Harry could tell you better than I."

"And the country hereabouts is sparsely inhabited. Navron is the only big house in the district I understand."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"How ideal for a law-breaker. I almost wish I were a pirate myself. And if I knew the house was without masculine protection, and that the lady of the manor was as beautiful as you, Dona…"

"Yes, Rockingham?"

"If I were a pirate, I repeat, knowing all these things, I should be most tempted to return to the district again and again."

Dona yawned once more, and threw away the mutilated daisy.

"But you are not a pirate, my dear Rockingham, you are only a grossly spoilt, overdressed, exceedingly decadent member of the aristocracy, with too great a fondness for women and for alcohol. So shall we leave the subject alone? I am becoming rather bored."

She got up from her seat, and began to wander towards the house.

"Time was," he said casually, "when you were not bored either by me or by my conversation."

"You flatter yourself."

"Do you remember a certain evening at Vauxhall?"

"I remember many evenings at Vauxhall, and one in particular, when because I had drunk two glasses of wine and was feeling intolerably sleepy, you had the audacity to kiss me and I was too idle to protest. I disliked you ever afterwards, and myself more so."

They stopped at the long window, and he gazed at her, a flush on his face. "What a delightful speech," he said. "The Cornish air has made you almost venomous. Or possibly it is the result of the fever."

"Possibly it is."

"Were you as churlish as this to the curious-looking manservant who attended you?"

"You had better ask him."

"I think I shall. If I were Harry I should ask him many questions, and all of an extremely personal nature."

"Who's this, what's this all about?" and Harry himself joined them, flinging himself down in a chair in the salon, wiping his forehead with a lace handkerchief. "What are you discussing, both of you?"

"We were discussing your manservant," said Rockingham, with a brilliant smile, "so strange that Dona would permit no one else to attend her while she was ill."

"Yes, by heaven, he's a rum-looking devil, and no mistake. Wouldn't trust him too far, if I were you, Dona. What d'you see in the fellow?"

"He is quiet, he is discreet, he walks soundlessly, and nobody else in the house does those things. Therefore I determined I should be nursed by him and by no one else."

"Extremely pleasant for the manservant," said Rockingham, polishing his nails.

"Yes, hang it," blustered Harry, "Rock's quite right, you know, Dona. The fellow might have taken infernal liberties. It was a damned risky thing to do. You lying weak and helpless in bed, and the fellow creeping about round you. He's not like an old retainer either, I know very little about him."

"Oh, so he has not been in your service long?" said Rockingham.

"No. Hang it, Rock, we never come to Navron, as you know. And I'm so confounded idle I never know half the time who my servants are. I've a mind to dismiss him."

"You will do nothing of the kind," said Dona; "William shall remain in my service for as long as it pleases me.

"All right, all right, no need to be tricky about it," said Harry, picking up Duchess and fondling her, "but it looks a trifle queer to have the fellow hanging about your bedroom. Here he is anyway, bringing a letter from someone. He looks as if he were sickening for some fever himself." Dona glanced at the door, and there was William, with a note in his hand, and his face paler than usual, and there was something of strain in his eyes.