Читать книгу In the Wake of fortune - Ivan Dexter - Страница 5

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Almost as old as the hamlet of St. Columb itself was the Trenoweth family.

Tradition set them down as being of memorable antiquity, but whether the ancestors of John Trenoweth traded with the Phœnicians, or whether a later generation fitted out a ship and fought with Drake against the Spanish Armada is of little concern to this story.

There was little doubt that the family was of Ancient lineage, and it was also certain that the "Wheal Merlin" had been owned and worked by the Trenoweths for many generations.

John Trenoweth knew this to his cost, for in the year 1830, when his father died and left him it as his only possession, he found that the living to be obtained from it was likely to be a precarious one.

He was only eighteen years of age at his father's death and that event left him an orphan, his mother having died several years previously. Like all his predecessors he had no thought of leaving the old spot, but at once settled down to the lot which had apparently been destined for him.

He was thirty-five when he married Mary Treloar, a girl of the village whom he had known since childhood, and the result of the union was one child, who was named Edward, after his grandfather.

John Trenoweth was a man of greater enterprise in the working of the mine than any of his predecessors. The spirit of the nineteenth century was strong within him, and the rude and primitive methods of working which had been in use for centuries at the mine were soon discarded.

The lode ran to a great depth and the shaft was deepened considerably so that it could be worked more advantageously. The mouth of the main shaft was not more than a couple of hundred yards from the cliffs on the ocean beach, and hitherto the utmost precautions had been taken in working towards the west.

A safe distance had been left between the furthest drive leading that way and the sea, for the miners had no desire to be interfered with by leakages from the Atlantic.

John Trenoweth was more venturesome.

With the shaft one hundred and twenty feet deeper than it had hitherto been, he concluded that there would not be the least danger in driving beneath the ocean bed if necessary. This would give about one hundred and fifty feet of ground overhead if the drive were continued from the lowest level west, and the most experienced miners in the district considered with Trenoweth that westerly working under such circumstances was perfectly safe.

After consultation with the miners they expressed their perfect willingness to start a lower drive to the west and follow the rich ore that was to be obtained in that line.

Trenoweth was soon rewarded for his enterprise by the increased yield of the "Wheal Merlin," and it almost seemed as if the ancient grandeur of the family was about to be renewed.

The turn of luck did not, however, last long, for the ore turned out to be patchy and realised no more than a fair living for the owner after all expenses were paid.

Year followed year, and slowly but surely the underground workings of the mine became more extensive towards the west.

In fact in the year 1850 the whole of the operations were carried on in that side of the historic mine.

The generations of miners who had lived, delved, and died at the mine, had completely worked it out in every other place save the one they were afraid to exploit, and consequently John Trenoweth was forced to confine himself to the west or abandon the place altogether.

He had reason to be satisfied with the inheritance left him, for it was turning out fairly well with his improved working, and so it went on till the latter part of 1865, when an event occurred which completely changed the fortunes of the Trenoweths.

Before narrating this Edward Trenoweth must be referred to.

The reader has already been informed that the marriage of John Trenoweth with Mary Treloar resulted in the birth of a son, who was christened Edward.

This son was born in 1847 and grew up a vigorous youth.

His parents had a notion of placing him in one of the liberal professions, and in pursuance of that idea sent him to Eton to be educated. It was the first time that a Trenoweth of St. Columb had ever been sent out of the hamlet to be educated, and old people shook their heads in bodeful anticipation of what the result would be. It seemed like breaking the custom hallowed by centuries of observance and the wiseacres of the village concluded that Edward Trenoweth was destined to break the long period of family isolation which had shut out the race from the world beyond the district in which they lived.

It must be said that Edward Trenoweth himself did not fall in cheerfully with the exile from his native village, and he made no secret of his repugnance to life at Eton.

A wild strain was inbred.

The youth loved the lonely grandeur of the storm-tossed Cornish coast, and to him St. Columb's Cove was the one place on earth.

He had a further reason for this love of the hamlet, for he had given his boyish heart to a maiden of the place, and that made the enforced separation from home all the more intolerable.

The girl's name was Inez Jasper, and her history was a strange one.

She was in fact a waif of the sea.

One wild night in November, 1849, signals of distress were observed rising to seaward and the few inhabitants of the Cove gathered on the beach to give what help they could.

This was very little indeed. The few old boats of the fishermen were utterly useless in such a storm outside the cove.

The hardy men of the place well knew that it would be suicidal madness to put out to where they could see a great ship drifting on to the rocks.

The Cove had probably been sighted by those on board the ship during the afternoon and as a last hope they had made towards it.

They must have been strangers to the coast to have done so, for to a vessel of such tonnage the Cove was practically inaccessible.

The spectre lady had been seen to walk the night previous, so some of the superstitious villagers said.

This legend had been whispered from one to another until it was believed, and as they gathered on the beach with the salt spray lashing in their faces from the half sheltered Cove they had no hope that the ship would live through the storm.

They seemed in fact to look upon it as a matter of course that the ship was doomed. The few boats were manned at nightfall, and the men rowed out to the entrance of the Cove, beyond which they dared not go. From the course the ship was driving it was expected she would strike near the entrance of the little bay and all the men could do would be to lend a hand in saving any possible survivors.

A few persons took their stand on the jutting cliffs on either side of the Cove with ropes to throw to any clinging waif that might be dashed up by the waves on the lower ledge of rocks.

As the people expected the unknown vessel drifted almost into the entrance of the Cove.

Had she come fairly in many lives would doubtless have been saved, but it was not fated to be.

A treacherous current seized and bore her right under the Black Cliff where no human help could avail.

Huge fires had been lighted at the spot immediately it was seen the ship was going to strike there, and all night the villagers peered into the seething ocean by them and the fitful light in search of a possible survivor.

Not one was saved by them, and when morning dawned nothing but wreckage strewed the coast, whilst here and there a ghastly battered corpse was to be seen.

Though the people on the cliff had not succeeded in saving a single soul, an old fisherman named Michael Jasper had been more fortunate.

Early in the night he had put out to the mouth of the Cove in company with his three sons.

Jasper, the father, was nearly eighty years of age, and the sons were beyond middle age. Father and sons had been born at St. Columb, and had passed most of their lives mining, varied with occasional fishing when the sea was calm.

It was not long after the ship struck that Jasper and his sons noticed fragments of wreck drifting into the bay, and they pulled about in the hope of securing something valuable.

The people of the village regarded a wreck as their own especial property, and they had no qualms of conscience regarding the appropriation of anything that came within their reach from such a source.

Jasper and his sons were engaged examining a mass of floating wreckage when they were somewhat startled by the sound of a human voice to seaward.

It was but a faint cry, but to the practised ears of the men it told its tale.

It must be a survivor's cry to come from such a direction the men instinctively knew, and loosing the wreckage they had hooked the boat was instantly turned towards the spot the sound came from.

In a few moments a second feeble cry was heard, fainter than the first, but in the thick darkness nothing could be discerned, save the white crested waves that broke against the rocks.

They had almost reached the mouth of the Cove, and Jasper, who had ignited an oil lamp and was holding it above his head saw another pile of wreckage sweep by.

By the flickering gleam of the light the occupants of the boat saw a struggling object on the floating mass, which turned out to be a portion of the ship's bulwarks, but almost as they looked a huge wave dashed the timber against a jutting rock, and with a smothered cry the living object disappeared.

Impelled with the desire to save life the men pulled perilously near to the boiling cauldron of the entrance, and as they did so a sheet of the broken timber swept by the frail craft and a gleam of something white on it caught the old man's eye.

Stretching out his hand he caught the object, which seemed to be a bundle of clothes, and as it was of little weight he lifted it into the boat.

Examining it with the aid of the light they were astounded to find that it contained a child, and in a few moments Jasper was convinced that it lived.

The boat had by this time been drifting back into the Cove and knowing how necessary it was to provide warmth for the almost inanimate infant the men at once pulled back to the beach and landed amongst the wondering few who remained there.

Mrs. Trenoweth was the first woman that Michael Jasper saw, and when she took the waif so miraculously preserved her motherly tenderness was aroused and she claimed the care of the child.

This was at once conceded, for there were no women-folk in the Jasper household, and the care of an infant would have been awkward.

By dint of care the child was brought round and at daylight seemed little the worse for the awful experience of the night.

Out of all on board the ship the child was the only soul saved, and the wondering people of St. Columb regarded her—for it was a female—as specially under Divine care.

There is no doubt that the cries which first attracted Jasper's attention came from someone who had the child and was lost when the floating wreckage struck the rock.

There was never the slightest clue found to the identity of the lost vessel, and the only token discovered on the child was the name "Inez" broidered on one of its garments. Mrs. Trenoweth, after consultation with her husband and with old Jasper's consent, decided to adopt the little Inez, but the old man insisted on his name being given to her as well as that marked on her clothes. The Trenoweth's child Edward was but a year old at the time and thus the two children grew up together.

Edward was fourteen when he was sent to Eton, but the routine of school life was extremely distasteful to him, and he longed for the wild freedom of his Cornish home.

How he managed to remain two years at the great school it is not easy to explain, but during that time he paid several visits to the Cove and each time he saw Inez Jasper his boyish heart was more impressed with her.

She was certainly growing into a lovely woman. Her features were as Spanish as her first name, and there was little doubt she was of Southern extraction.

There was nothing in common between her and the natures of the secluded hamlet, and consequently she was not a favourite with them. Edward Trenoweth was a spirited and handsome youth and more to her liking.

The friendship that existed between them developed into ardent love on his part and some degree of affection on hers. At best it was but Love's young dream.

At the age of sixteen Edward departed from Eton, or, rather, was compelled to leave owing to a serious disagreement with one of the masters.

During his two year's sojourn there he had not wasted his time but had made fair progress with his studies. The spirit of his ancestors seemed to possess him, as he evinced a decided inclination for the life of a miner.

Both his parents tried to dissuade him from that pursuit, but it was in vain, and soon after he took part with his father in the working of the mine. This pursuit possessed in infatuation for him and he speedily acquired a practical knowledge of geology.

His theoretical knowledge stood him in good need, and before he was two years in the mine he was regarded as quite an authority by the rough miners. This was in the latter end of 1865, and no one guessed of the awful calamity that was even then throwing its shadows over the doomed hamlet.