He continued walking by her side, beating his boot with his riding whip.

At length he began to grow impatient at her silence.

"You have got a voice I know, for I heard it sound very sweetly just now. Can't you use it just to say something? It's not pleasant when a person speaks to a young lady not to have a word in return."

Still May was firm in her determination not to speak. The youth, probably unaccustomed to such treatment from the young women he usually a.s.sociated with, entirely lost patience.

"Come, come, Miss, let's be friends! Though you do live with the Miss Pembertons, there's no reason you should look down upon a young man who is in a respectable position, and would make you an independent lady if you would let him."

As he spoke he tried to seize her hand, and put his other arm round to draw her towards him. She started back to escape his touch, and as she did so, looking over her shoulder, she saw Jacob following in the distance. She turned and flew towards him faster than she had ever run in her life. Jacob hastened to meet her. She took his arm panting and scarcely able to speak as she told him the insult to which she had been subjected.

"I saw some one walking alongside you, and thought it wasn't by your wish, but couldn't tell, you see, though I ought to have known better.

But the impudent fellow shall rue it, that he shall. I'll serve him as I would a conger!" exclaimed Jacob. "Let me be after him now--I'll catch him before he has got far, and I'll warrant he shall never speak to you again."

"Oh, no, no! pray do not, Jacob," said May, leaning on his arm to support herself. She was more agitated than she could have supposed.

"Let him alone, whoever he is, though I suspect from what he said that he is a son of Miles Gaffin. It will be only necessary, I hope, to warn him not to behave again as he has done; and as I shall tell Miss Pemberton, she will probably speak to him, and that will be sufficient."

"If the audacious young scoundrel is Miles Gaffin's son, and he is like his father, he will care neither what Miss Pemberton nor any other lady says to him," exclaimed Jacob, doubling his fist, while his eye a.s.sumed a fierce expression it seldom wore. "He will care what this says to him though, and I'll make it speak in a way he won't like, that I will. But don't you be afraid, there is no harm will come of it. How he should have dared to speak to you is more than I can tell; but I will find out if he has a tongue to answer me, and it will be the last time he'll try it."

Had young Gaffin heard Jacob, and seen his brawny arm and huge fist, he would have had no inclination to fall in with him; but feeling that it would be wise not to encounter the st.u.r.dy protector to whom May had appealed, he had, after pursuing her a few steps, leaped over a gate and run into a wood, which concealed him from sight. It is possible that, from his place of concealment, he might have observed May leaning on Jacob's arm as they proceeded towards Downside.

"Thank you, Jacob, for your kindly succour," she said when they reached the door. "You will come in and see the ladies, for they will wish to thank you as I do."

"Oh, May, you don't fancy that there is any need of thanking me--no, not even if I had saved your life, for that would have made me happier than I can tell you," answered Jacob, with a half reproachful look. "As to that villain, I will find him out, and then I'll come and tell the ladies how I have served him."

"I must again entreat you not to use any violence," said May. "It will be quite sufficient if you can learn who he is, that I may be protected from his insults, but for no other reason do I even wish to ascertain his name."

While they were speaking, Miss Jane, who had heard their voices, came out, and May hurriedly told her what had occurred.

"May has spoken very properly to you, Jacob," she said. "Do no more than she has advised."

Jacob's countenance a.s.sumed a more dogged look than May had ever seen it wear, and, unwilling to receive more of Miss Jane's stem exhortations, or May's milder entreaties, he wished them good evening, and casting a look expressive of his devotion at May, hurried away.

As May was able to identify the youth who had spoken to her with the young man who had appeared at church on the previous Sunday, Miss Jane, with her usual sagacity, ascertained that he was staying at the Texford Arms, and that Miles Gaffin, the miller had met him on his arrival. It was supposed that he was the eldest son of that person.

"I fear there will be but little use complaining to the father,"

observed Miss Jane; "but it will be more prudent, my dear May, for you to confine your walks to the grounds till he has left the place, unless you accompany Mary or me. Jacob will undoubtedly let his parents know what has occurred, and we shall, probably have the dame up here to make enquiries. I will then tell her not to expect a visit from you till you are no longer likely to be subjected to the same annoyance."

May agreed to the wisdom of this proposal; indeed she would have been very unwilling to venture beyond the grounds by herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE SMUGGLER'S VAULT.

The appearance of young Gaffin at Hurlston must be accounted for.

The old mill on the cliff, which belonged to Sir Reginald Castleton, was in a somewhat decayed condition, and had long been unoccupied, when a short time before the period at which our story commences, a stranger, calling himself Miles Gaffin, a miller by trade, called on Mr Grooc.o.c.k, and offered to take it. As he was ready to give a better rent than the steward expected to receive, he was glad to let it.

Miles Gaffin had occupied the mill for about a year, when, leaving it in charge of his man, he disappeared for a time and returned with a wife and three boys, whom he placed in a neat cottage at some little distance from the mill. His wife was a foreigner, of dark complexion, who spoke no English, a care-worn, spirit-broken woman, it was said.

She had little or no intercourse with her neighbours, who were unable to find out anything about her; indeed, either by her husband's order or her own wish, she never admitted any of them within her doors.

Some time after Miles Gaffin had been established at the mill, a lugger appeared off the coast, on board which he was seen to go. He had previously declared to Mr Grooc.o.c.k, notwithstanding his sunburnt countenance and undoubted sailor-like look, that he knew nothing of nautical affairs.

Mr Grooc.o.c.k began to suspect that he had been deceived in the matter on finding that Gaffin had sailed away in the lugger, and did not return for many weeks.

He confessed with a laugh when he next met the steward that he was really fond of the sea, and that whenever his business would allow him, he proposed taking a trip to indulge his fancy. He went so far even to invite Mr Grooc.o.c.k to accompany him, his offer, however, as may be supposed, being declined.

On one side of the mill the ground sloped rapidly down for twenty feet or more, and here a house was erected, the roof of which reached scarcely higher than the bas.e.m.e.nt of the mill itself, so that the arms on which the sails were stretched could pa.s.s freely over it. This building had been in even a more dilapidated condition than the mill itself. The lower portion was used as a stable, where the miller kept his horse, the upper contained two rooms. Miles Gaffin had partially repaired the house, and had had the two rooms fitted up as sleeping apartments, that he might, as he said, put up any guest whom he could not accommodate in his own house. From the time he had taken possession of it he had, however, admitted none of his neighbours, though it was rumoured that strange men who had landed from the suspicious lugger had been observed entering the house, and sometimes leaving it, either on foot or on horseback, and making their way inland; lights also had been seen at all hours of the night when certainly the mill itself was not at work. It was remarked, too, by several of the fishermen in the neighbourhood, that the stranger had been carrying on some work or other either inside the house or below the mill, as they had observed a large quant.i.ty of earth which had been thrown down over the cliff, and though part of it had been washed away by the spring tides, it still went on increasing. When one of them made an observation to him on the subject, he replied promptly that he had heard a noise one night, and had no doubt that part of the cliff had given way. However, considering the risk there was, should such have been the case, of his mill being carried down bodily to the beach, he took the matter very coolly.

From time to time a still larger quant.i.ty of earth was observed, and it was whispered by one or two of his more sagacious neighbours that Miles Gaffin must be excavating a vault beneath his mill, possibly for the purpose of forming a granary in which to store corn purchased by him when prices were low. Why, however, he had not employed any of the labourers in the neighbourhood, or why he should have the work carried on in secret, no one could determine. Still the idea prevailed that a vault of some sort had been formed; but after a time the matter was forgotten. No one, indeed, had much fancy for asking the miller inquisitive questions, as he generally gave such replies as to make people wish that they had not put them. He was, indeed, looked upon as a morose, haughty man, who, considering himself superior to the other inhabitants of the village, was not inclined to allow any familiarity.

He had never been known to seek for custom. He had brought a man with him to work the mill who was even more surly and morose than his master.

Poor Dusty d.i.c.k, as he was called, was deaf and dumb, so that he could only express his feelings by his looks, and they were unprepossessing in the extreme. When corn was brought he ground it and returned the proper quant.i.ty of flour on receiving payment, though he would never give it up without that.

The miller wished it to be understood that he ground his neighbour's corn as a favour, and that his chief profits arose from turning into flour the wheat which came by sea on board the lugger. This statement was borne out by the large number of sacks which her crew were frequently seen landing. Waggons from a distance also frequently arrived, and being loaded with flour, were sent off again to the places from whence they came. The miller's business, however, it was evident, was not a steady one; sometimes for weeks together the long arms of the mill were only seen working for a few hours now and then, and at others the miller and his companions were as busy as bees, while the sails went spinning round at a great rate, as if trying to make amends for lost time.

Miles Gaffin continued to make frequent voyages in the lugger, of which he was generally supposed to be the owner. Sometimes he was several months together absent. When he came back he was so busy at the mill that he was seldom seen at the cottage where his family resided.

As soon as his boys were old enough he sent them away to school. When they came back for their holidays they were noted chiefly for being the most noisy, wild, and worst mannered lads in the place, especially held in dread by Miss Pemberton, who had frequently rebuked them when she saw them playing games on a Sunday in the village, and had received rude answers in return. The youngest was, notwithstanding, a fine, manly looking boy, and the only one ever seen in his father's company.

On one occasion Gaffin had taken him on board the lugger, but the lad had not returned, and it was said that he had been knocked overboard in a gale of wind, and drowned.

On Gaffin's return after this event, his wife, as it was supposed, on his suddenly communicating the boy's death, became ill. A doctor was sent for, but the stroke had gone too far home for human cure, and in a short time the hapless woman breathed her last.

On this Miles sent back his sons to school, and from that time, greatly to the relief of Miss Pemberton, they did not make their appearance in the village. He gave up his cottage, and after that took up his abode, when at Hurlston, entirely at the mill-house.

A short time before the reappearance of his son at Hurlston, as just mentioned, he had himself, after a considerable absence, returned. He had been of late unsuccessful in his undertakings, whatever they were, and even Dusty d.i.c.k, as he observed his master's countenance, thought it prudent, as much as possible, to keep out of his way.

Several strangers had come with him on board the lugger, and had taken possession of one of the rooms in the mill-house, while he occupied the other. They were personages unaccustomed apparently to soft beds or luxuries of any sort, so that they were perfectly at home in the roughly furnished room; and when they wished to sleep they found, when wrapped in their cloaks, all the comfort they desired.

Besides a couple of tressel beds, a long deal table, with benches on either side, were the chief articles of furniture.

The miller and his guests were seated round the table, on which stood the remnants of their supper. Their conversation related chiefly to an adventure in which they had lately been engaged, while political subjects were also discussed.

"Now, mates," said Gaffin, rising, "I have got business to attend to before I turn in, but I will leave you to put on your night-caps whenever you have a fancy."

"This is the only night-cap I ever put on," answered one of the men, pouring out half a tumbler of brandy. "It serves for night-cap and blanket too, and keeps a fellow from dreaming, an occupation I have no fancy for."

"You are not going to leave us yet, captain, are you? We have not reached the small hours of the night," said a second. "Another stoup of liquor, man; we are on firm ground, and no king's cruisers are in chase of us; you need not fear if it sends you to sleep, or makes you see double for once in a way."

Gaffin still, however, refused to sit down again, even though other urgent appeals were made to him, couched in much coa.r.s.er language, interlarded with not a few strange oaths, which need not be repeated.

"I have told you, mates, that I have business to attend to. Amuse yourselves as you list, only don't get to brawling, or burn the house down in your revels; if you do, remember you will chance to burn with it before your time comes."

The smuggler captain, for such he appeared to be considered by his ruffianly companions, without again speaking left the room.

He repaired at once to his own chamber, and sitting down at a table, on which a lamp burned, he opened a desk, took a huge pocket-book from his coat, and began to examine several doc.u.ments which it contained.