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THE

CORNHILL MAGAZINE.

FEBRUARY, 1887.

THE GAVEROCKS.

A TALE OF THE CORNISH COAST.

BY THE AUTHOR OF JOHN HERRING,' 'MEHALAH,' ETC.

CHAPTER VI.

RED FEATHERSTONE.

SQUIRE GAVEROCK's boat, the Mermaid,' was one of which he was justly proud, as the fastest sailer between Tintagel and Trevose, that is for her size. She was a cutter, decked, and with fixed bowsprit and mast, like a schooner. Hender Gaverock was as much at home on the deck of a boat as on the back of a horse. The only place where he was not at home was-at home, where he found nothing to do and nothing to interest him except the bottle.

About seventy years ago seals were tolerably numerous on the north-west Cornish coast. There are a good many to be found there still, but their numbers have of late been greatly diminished. Seventy years ago they abounded in the caves, where they reared their young, and in the bays they were frequently encounteredtheir black heads rising out of the sea, with strangely human eyes in them, rising and falling with the swell of the sea.

Gaverock took with him his boatman, David Tregellas. If he and Constantine were going to shoot seals, one of the party must be at the helm, another at the jib, and one must be ready with gun for the sport.

the

'Got the stone jars there, David ? '

'Aye, aye, sir! Strapped together for easy carriage.'

VOL. VIII.--NO. 44, N.S.

6

That is right. I'll run the "Mermaid" to Featherstone's Kitchen-Gwen's shop. We have drunk ourselves out of rum.'

'I reckon us had better not go so far as that,' said Tregellas, shaking his head. The birds be all flying inwards, and the water was on fire last night.'

Here is Constantine with nerves as slack as trade in

'Glad to hear it,' said Gaverock. his brains full of city fashions, and his bullocks. Do him good to have a blow, to clear his head and brace his tendons; and if he gets a splash of brine in his face it will wash out the milk and raspberry, and make his face less like a girl's.'

'What is right for you, Squire, is right for me,' answered Tregellas. You've more to lose than I.'

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"You mind the jib, David; I'll tend the main-sheet and steer. Now then, Con, hold the gun, and keep your eyes open. Take heed of the boom when I say "Luff"; and don't let it knock you overboard as if you were a lout who had never tasted salt water.'

'I reckon us 'll see no seals to-day, Squire,' said Tregellas. What sends the birds inland sends the seals to security-which proves that humans be bigger fools nor birds and beasts."'

'If they don't show on the water we'll follow them into their caves,' answered Gaverock angrily.

'You must have a row-boat for doing that,' argued Tregellas. The Squire growled. He disliked contradiction. He specially resented it when he knew he was in the wrong. He had made up his mind for sport, and sport he would have in spite of wind and weather.

'Wind sou'-sou'-west,' he said. Con, been to Featherstone's Kitchen before?'

'No, father.'

You shall see the kitchen whence we get our supplies of spirits spirits that pay no duty.'

The day was pleasant. The sun shone, and the sea rolled, but was not rough. The cutter skimmed like a bird. In vain did Constantine and his father look for seals. Not a seal was to be seen. They ran into the little coves, but the creatures were not there, neither basking on the reefs nor floating on the waves.

Nothing can be conceived more magnificent than that coast, with its crags of trap, or contorted slate and gneiss, here and there strangely barred with white spar. In the bays the gulls and kittiwakes were flashing and screaming; and now and then a red

shanked, scarlet-beaked chough went by with a call of warning. The birds were in excitement, shrieking to each other, and answering in equally high-pitched tones. The morning went by, wasted in hunting after seals which would not show.

'There they are, in yonder cave,' said old Gaverock, indicating with his chin the torn face of cliff, in which were many fissures and vaults. If we had only a row-boat, we could go in, and we should find them far away in the dark, lying on ledges, looking at us, or, if we threatened them, flapping pebbles at us with their fins. Golly! I've been hit afore this, and had my head cut open, as surely as if the creatures had taken aim at me with hands. At times I'm fain to believe the seals are human and have souls. I dare say they have about as much as a woman. I was out sealing-it was a day much like this-when I killed Featherstone. Have you ever heard the tale, Con? Well, I dare be bound you've heard tell something about it, and all wrong. None know the real rights but David Tregellas and myself. Red Featherstone was a rover as well as a smuggler. If he had been only the latter, it would have given me a sour soul to have killed him, though we were rivals. Featherstone was a proper bad man. He carried off whatever his hands laid hold of. He had a boat, the like of which was not seen then, but the "Mermaid" would be her match now. Golly! I'd like to have the chance of racing Featherstone's cutter! She was built something the same as this. Featherstone had a large vessel, a schooner, and with her he went to France, or Spain, no one knows whither. He came back to these coasts laden with things-stolen mostly; I don't believe he paid for his goods with money. Here and there along the coast he had his kitchens-that is, store places-whither folks might go and where they might buy what they wanted, spirits and wines and tobacco, and silks and laces and china; I can't tell you what things he did not hide there, and I knew he did a fine trade. The kitchens were vaults scooped out of the rocks, and cottages were built over them with secret entrances, and secret exits to the water. Very useful those kitchens were, and mighty convenient they are still. We are bound now for one, where I shall fill these jars with rum. But Featherstone no longer plies the trade. It is fallen prodigiously since his time. I spiked him. Luff! Mind your head, you fool!'

He altered the course of the 'Mermaid.'

It is an old story;

it happened before you were born or thought of, before I married

your mother. Indeed, I doubt if I should have had your mother if Featherstone had not first been put out of the way. The folks call him Red Featherstone, because he was fond of wearing a scarlet waistcoat laced with gold; but over it he wore a long oilskin shiny black coat. In all weathers it was the same, and he looked like a porpoise in his shiny suit buttoned over his red waistcoat. But when he came a-courting he left off the oilskin and showed his waistcoat. He was vastly attached to your mother, and I had a fancy towards her too. Of course I had, or I would not have married her. Well, Featherstone and I could not abide one another, as was natural, for we were rivals for your mother, and, by the Lord! he threatened to carry her off in his schooner if she were not given to him, so her father and brothers were armed and watched night and day when Featherstone's boat was about. One day, just such a day as this-how well I remember it, and so does David yonder! The sun was darting, a beam (bank of cloud) was over the West, lying on the sea. I was out spearing seals. Guns aren't so plenty or so good as now, and nothing like so sure of aim as a spear. I used to take one of the old weapons from the hall, a halbert with a jagged feather-like barb. I was partial to this weapon, because, if the head went in far enough, the seal could not slip away, the barb held it. Well, as I came shooting round that headland yonder, I was close on the Watcher, which is a shelf of rock leaning with the rough broken edge landwards, and sloping towards the sea. It is only covered in a heavy sea. David and I could not see the Watcher till we were close upon it, and then, there I saw Red Featherstone seated on the sloping shelf priming his pistols. He had on his oilskin coat and oilskin leggings and long boots, and shone in the sun like a porpoise. You couldn't see a scrap of red about him. If he had his scarlet waistcoat on, it was buttoned over. But wait! you shall hear.' The old man chuckled. I didn't see all his waistcoat that day, but I saw some of it, as you shall hear.'

He paused, wiped his brow with his sleeve, and went on. When Featherstone saw me he sprang to his feet and swore, and Tregellas stayed his oars-he was that struck with astonishment he didn't know what to do. Then Featherstone shouted to me that now God or the Devil had brought us face to face, and we would have it out, and settle, that hour, who should have Lydiathat's your mother. He held a pistol in each hand: one was a great, brass-mounted horse pistol, and the other was quite a toy

tool, silver mounted.

He held the horse-pistol in his right and the other in his left. I had no other arms with me but the old halbert; but I was not afraid. Afraid!' The old man laughed. 'I afraid! I snorted like a walrus, and called to David to pull up to the rock. I stood up in the boat and held the spear above my head ready to cast; but Featherstone was beforehand with me, and he fired the horse-pistol. He missed, for the boat was rocking, but the bullet whizzed past my head, and before ever he could discharge the second at me I flung the spear, and it went through the air straight as a cormorant after a fish, and struck him in the chest and went right through. I saw the end poking out behind, thrusting out his oilskin. That was a grand fling, that was, and I flung with such force that I levered the boat away and she shot back under my feet and brought me down. That was well for me, as at the same moment the second pistol went off and they say Featherstone was a better aim with his left than with his right. When I picked myself up, I saw Featherstone wrenching at the shaft of the spear to lug it out of him, but he could not, for, as I told you, it was barbed; then it was that I saw some of the red waistcoat, for as he pulled at the spear he pulled the frayed, ragged edges of the red cloth out through the hole in the oilskin where the spear had entered. He could do nothing with it, and he grasped his silver-mounted pistol again, and tried to load it and prime it; but it was all no use-down he fell, and as he fell he threatened me with the little pistol, but couldn't hurt me, it was unloaded. Just then a black boat shot out from the bay; Featherstone's men were in it. They had been to the Kitchen with stores, and they heard the shot and hurried to their oars, and came after me. David and I made off then as best we might. Well, I was somewhat curdled in mind after that, I allow; but it was a fair fight. Nay, it was fair on my side and unfair on his, for a halbert was no match for two pistols. Red Featherstone had been outlawed for his malpractices, so no harm could come to me for having spiked him.'

'What countryman was he?' asked Constantine.

'Featherstone? He was of these parts, and yet he was not. That is to say, his family lived somewhere up the coast just over the border in Devon. The family is respectable enough; and I reckon Red Featherstone took to roving more for sport than for what it brought him. He was a wild, wicked, restless spirit. I don't fancy the taste continued in the family. I've heard nothing of them since. Indeed, I do not know if the race still exists.'

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