Chapter XXX: The Trail of the Serpent

No words can describe how strange I felt when I stood again in my own bedroom alone. There was the old bed at the corner of the room, just as I had left it long years before. Indeed, nothing in the room had been changed, and it seemed at times as though I had never been away at all, that the past eleven years were only a long dream, and that I was still the gay young Roger who sported on the headland with his younger brother.

I was very excited, and although I had not slept for many hours, I did not feel at all like retiring to rest. I was glad to sit alone, and listen to the roll of the waves on the beach, and think of the strange events which had taken place.

And then there was Ruth. Although I had scarcely mentioned her name since I had arrived she was ever in my mind. Could I now ask her to wed me? My hands were free from the stain of blood, and hatred was no longer in my heart. Surely I might go boldly to her now, and tell her all I desired her to know, yet on the other hand I remembered her look when I last saw her face, the shudder with which I was sure she had recoiled from me. Besides, Wilfred had told me that he had more than ever poisoned her mind against me. And yet I loved her so much! All the experiences during the eleven years of my wandering life had but strengthened my love for her, and that love for her was, I believe, the only link that held me to Heaven, the only power that saved me from falling into hell. And thus I mused on, when--

What was that I heard?

At first it seemed like a stealthy step, but I was not sure; then a few seconds later I thought I heard someone whispering. I opened my door and listened, but could detect nothing.

"It is my fancy," I said, "or else the servants are preparing to get up."

I did not know the time, but I knew that morning must soon be breaking. A drowsy sensation was now creeping over me, so I prepared for a few hours' rest, but as I lay down on the old bed I had used as a boy I distinctly heard the sound of horses' hoofs; They seemed a good way off, but I was not sure, as the night was still, and the sound would travel far and fast; but there was nothing to trouble about, so with a sweet feeling of restfulness I fell asleep.

When I awoke it was broad daylight, and with a glad feeling at heart I dressed quickly and looked out of the window. Yes! I was home at last. The long bitter years of hatred and remorse were behind, the future, though cloudy, could never be as dark as the past had been.

I heard a knock at the door, and on opening it found my mother standing with a look of expectancy on her face. She gazed up into my eyes, as if in doubt about her reception, and then allowed herself to be folded in the arms of her rough sailor son. I knew all the time it was not my love she craved for, but she was glad even for that, so hungry was her heart.

"Roger, do you know it is past mid-day?" she said, with a sad smile. "I thought something was the matter with you, but on listening at the door I heard you breathing regularly, and so let you sleep on. But come to the breakfast-room, I'm sure you must be hungry."

We went down the broad staircase together arm in arm, while the servants flitted around excitedly at the advent of Mr. Roger. How gladly, how proudly they waited on me, while my mother told me that the inhabitants of the parish had arranged to have a bonfire, and that a lot of festivities had been arranged in honour of my arrival! I seemed to be living a new life, to be breathing a new atmosphere, and so kind was my mother to me that by and by I broke down and sobbed like a child.

Then we went out on the headland together, she holding my arm, while the servants smiled and whispered one to another that it was "somethin' like."

By and by, after talking of many things relative to what had happened in the years of my happiness, she said:

"Roger, you still love Ruth?"

"More than ever, mother."

"I shudder when I think of the dreadful fate from which you saved her."

"You heard of that, then?"

"Heard of it? Why, it was the talk of the county. The more so as you so suddenly disappeared."

"Did no one know why?"

"No one except Wilfred and I, unless you told Ruth, I fancy you did tell her, for when Wilfred and I went over to see her she seemed amazed at the sight of him."

"And Wilfred told her of our struggle?"

"Yes, Roger."

"He deceived her."

"He tried to. I do not know if he succeeded."

I saw this turn in the conversation pained her, so I was silent.

After a few minutes she spoke again.

"Are you going to Morton Hall?"

"I do not know."

"Why?"

"I am afraid she hates me, loathes me. I could not bear to see her turn away from me in terror."

"I wish you would go, Roger."

"Why, mother?"

"Because I love her, and I think, I am sure, you will never be happy unless you do."

"But, mother, do you think that----"

"Nay, Roger, I would not tell you if I could. It is for you to discover that."

I could not bear to talk any more about it just then, so to change the conversation I asked her if she had seen Wilfred.

"No," she replied, "but I am not surprised at that he has gone away for weeks together sometimes, and I have had no idea where he has been."

I was about to ask another question when I heard a voice behind me.

"Right glad to see 'ee, Maaster Roger."

"Bill Tregargus," I said, "and I am glad to see you."

There was an uneasy look on his face, however, and although he touched his hat to my mother, and made many remarks about his happiness at finding me home once more, I saw that something was wrong.

"Cud I ave a vew words in private with 'ee?" said Bill, at length.

"Certainly," I said, and my mother, evidently thinking that Bill had come relative to some matter connected with the estate, left us.

"Ave 'ee seed yer brother, sur?" said Bill, as soon as she was gone.

"Yes, last night."

"'Scuse me, sur; but was 'ee friendly?"

I did not resent this question, for Bill knew of our past relations, he knew what I had said when I heard of Wilfred's cruelty to Ruth.

"No," I said.

"You'll forgive me, Maaster Roger," went on Bill, "but I've got a raison for axin'; was anything said about Miss Ruth?"

"Nothing definite. Why?"

"Maaster Roger," said Bill, as if feeling his way, "people do zay as 'ow he will never stand no chance wi' Miss Ruth now, but do 'ee think 'ee wudd'n try to kip you from 'avin' 'er?"

"I think he would," I cried. "But what then?"

"Maaster Roger, I'm afraid he'll bait 'ee after all, ef you doan't maake haste."

"I don't understand; tell me what you mean quickly."

"Well, Maaster Roger, yesterday I was over to Polcoath Downs. As you knaw, 'tes 'bout fifteen mile from here. I've got a brother as do live there, the waun younger'n me. You remember Daniel, doan't 'ee?"

"Very well. Go on quickly."

"Well, I 'adn't seed un for a long time, so I stayed till nearly mornin', and as I was comin' on the road 'bout an hour afore daylight I heerd the sound of hosses. I was goin' down a steep hill when I heerd it, and I wondered who twas comin' at that time. In a minute more I seed two men comin' ridin'. They wa'ant goin' very vast, so I could hear 'em talkin. When I got to the bottom of the hill I sed to meself, I wan't let those chaps zee me, so I gets under a bush cloase to a pool beside the road. As luck wud 'ave it, they got off their 'osses right against where I was, so as to let um drink, and then I seed that one of them was yer brother, and tother a strange chap, as Maaster Wilfred 'ave got very thick wi'."

"Who was he?"

"I don't knaw, 'cept 'ee's a bad un. 'Ee don't do nothin' but loaf around the Manor and the kiddley-wink (beershop). I'm told as 'ow he's terrible thick wi' Maaster Wilfred, who do kip un to do all soarts ov dirty jobs. I've 'eerd 'ee's from Plymouth, and he goes by the name of Jake Blackburn."

"Well?"

"Well, Maaster Wilfred wur sayin' somethin' about his brother comin' 'ome again and wishin' he knawed he wur comin', as then Jake cud 'ave stopped un from comin' home. Then, Maaster Roger, I 'ad a sort o' notion 'ow that you'd come 'ome again, and I wur glad."

"What then? Tell me quickly."

"Then your brother said as 'ow he'd pay you out now, and that, though you might get the old estate, which was mortgaged, you shud never 'ave the girl you loved."

"Why? How?"

"I couldn't rightly make out, but I heerd Maaster Wilfred zay that he'd kill yer weth hes own 'and rather than you shud ever 'ave her. Then I 'eerd Jake Blackburn ax what 'ee'd got to do wi' that, and your brother told 'im that ef Miss Ruth didn't come down from 'er 'igh 'oss, there'd be some work for 'im to do."

"You don't mean to say that Wilfred would use this villain to kill Ruth?"

"I don't say nothin', sur, but I knaw Maaster Wilfred wur awful mad, and wur tellin' Jake that ef 'ee ded'n do as he was told he'd put a 'angman's rope round es nuddick. I 'eerd un zay, too, that he wud tell 'er you was dead, and that it wur 'er place to 'ave him, and if she wudden--well, and then they was whisperin' one to another."

"And are you sure they were going there?"

"As sure as I can be, sur. I 'eerd em zay they'd git to Morton Hall by ten o'clock."

"And now it's after two. Why did you not tell me before?"

"I've bin three times this mornin' sur, but they zaid they wudden wake 'ee. I've told 'ee as soon as ever I cud."

I could not believe in what Bill had said, it was too terrible, but I hurried madly back to the house, he keeping by my side.

"Do you really think he is capable of such a thing as you hinted at, Bill?" I said.

"I'm sure 'ee's capable of doin' any devilish thing," said Bill; "beside, 'e've bin drinkin' 'ard lately."

The thought was ghastly in the extreme, and yet as I remembered the look on his face the night before, when he said he would ever seek to curse my life, I felt the truth of Bill's words. He had tried to murder me in order to retain wealth, would he not murder her rather than see her make me happy? Then the thought came to me--was this a part of the curse? For the past eleven years I had never known real happiness. Before I had raised the cup to my lips it had been dashed out of my hand. Was it to be now as it had ever been? For a moment I believed that an evil power attended me, and that I could not rid myself of the evil to which I had been born. Then I thought of old Deborah Teague's words. "You ca'ant curse waun that do love everybody, and whose heart es full ov love." This comforted me; not that I believed particularly in anything she might say, but because her words sounded true.

Anyhow, if such were the case, I would resist my fate, I would struggle to the end, and God would help me.

I rushed to the stables, where two or three men lolled around.

"Are the horses all in the stables?" I asked.

"No, sur, there be two gone."

"Good ones?"

"The best we've got, sur. Brown Molly es a thora breed, sur, and will run till she do drop; and Prince is nearly so good."

"Have you a good horse now?"

"There's Bess. She's a bra mare, jist brok in, sur."

"Saddle her at once for me, and stop! Do you know who has the other two horses?"

"No, sur; but Master Wilfred do often take hosses without we knawin' 'bout it."

"Just so. Bring Bess to the hall door immediately."

I rushed into the house, where I found my mother. I told her all Bill had related to me. As I did so I saw her face pale to the very lips.

"Oh, Roger, oh Roger!" she cried, "save him."

"Do you think Bill's surmise correct?"

"Oh, Wilfred, Wilfred, you will kill me yet," she murmured. "Ride fast, Roger, ride for your life. Don't wait a moment if you would save her, and save him!"

The horse was brought up to the door at that moment, a powerful black mare, well fed and exercised.

I kissed my mother and prepared to go, but she held my arm for a moment.

"Be careful and watchful," she said, "he's very cunning; but, oh, my God, save him from this!"

I jumped into the saddle, and in another minute was riding with a fast beating heart towards Morton Hall.