Frenchman's Creek

"How charming," said Rockingham, "how rural and touching. Lady St. Columb, on the contrary, seems to have no women servants about her at all," and he smiled across at Dona, raising his glass, and "How did you enjoy your walk, Dona?" he said, "did you find it wet there in the woods?"

Dona did not answer. Godolphin looked upon her with suspicion, for really if Harry permitted his wife to dally with servants he would soon be the talk of the countryside, and now he came to think of it he remembered an impertinent scrap of a groom driving the carriage the day Harry's wife had taken tea with them. "How is your wife bearing with the heat?" Dona enquired. "I think of her so often," but she did not hear his reply, for Philip Rashleigh was talking in her left ear. "I swear I have seen you before, dear lady," he was saying, "but I cannot for the life of me recollect the time or the place."

And he stared at his plate, wrinkling his brows, as though by force of concentration he would bring back the scene.

"Some more wine for Mr. Rashleigh," said Dona, smiling graciously, pushing his glass towards him. "Yes, I also feel that we have met, but it must have been six years ago, when I came here as a bride."

"No, I'll take my oath on that," said Rashleigh, shaking his head. "It's an inflection in your voice I believe, and I have heard it not so long ago either."

"But Dona has that effect on every man," said Rockingham; "they always feel, after seeing her, that they have known her before. You will find, my dear Rashleigh, that it will keep you awake at night."

"I gather you speak with experience?" said Carnethick, and they exchanged glances, and Rockingham smiled, adjusting the lace at his wrists.

"How I detest him," thought Dona; "those narrow catlike eyes, that meaning smile. He would like every man at this table to believe he makes love to me."

"Were you ever in Fowey?" asked Philip Rashleigh.

"Never to my certain knowledge," she answered, and he drank down his wine, still shaking his head doubtfully.

"You have heard how I was robbed?" he said.

"Yes, indeed," she answered, "so very distressing for you. And you have never had news of your ship since?"

"Never a word," he said bitterly. "Ah, she's snug in a French port by now, with no legal means of extracting her. That's what comes of having a Court packed with foreigners, and a King who speaks better French, by all accounts, than he does English. However, I hope to settle accounts tonight, once and for all."

Dona glanced up at the clock above the stairs. It wanted twenty minutes to midnight. "And you, my lord?" she said, smiling upon Godolphin, "were you also involved in the loss of Mr. Rashleigh's ship?"

"I was, madam," he replied stiffly.

"But I trust you received no hurt?"

"Luckily none. The rascals were too glad to show us their heels. Like every Frenchman, they preferred to run for it rather than face up to an honest fight."

"And was their leader really the desperate man you have led me to believe?"

"Twenty times worse, madam. The most impudent, blood-thirsty, evil-looking rogue I've ever clapped eyes upon. We have heard since that his own ship carried a full complement of women, on every voyage, and most of them, poor wretches, kidnapped from our villages. Needless to say, I have told nothing of this to my wife."

"Naturally not, it might precipitate matters unduly," murmured Dona.

"He had a woman aboard the Merry Fortune," said Philip Rashleigh. "I could see her there on the deck above me, as plain as I see you now. A bold-faced baggage if ever there was one, with a cut on her chin, and her hair all over her eyes. Some harlot from the French docks, no doubt."

"And there was a boy," added Godolphin, "a wretched scrap of a boy who came knocking on Philip's door; I'll take my oath he had a hand in it. He had a whining way of speaking, and a womanish cut about him that was most unpleasing."

"These Frenchmen are so decadent," said Dona.

"They'd never have slipped away from us, but for the wind," snorted Rashleigh; "down came a puff from Readymoney cove, and her sails filled. You'd say it was the work of the devil himself. George here had the villain covered with his musket, but he missed him."

"And how was that, my lord?"

"I was temporarily at a disadvantage, madam," began Godolphin, the colour mounting to his face, and Harry, looking down from the opposite end of the table slapped his hand on his knee and shouted, "We've heard all about it, never fear, George. You lost your wig, didn't you? The rascal of a froggie pinched your wig?" and immediately all eyes turned on Godolphin, who sat stiff as a ramrod, staring at the glass in front of him.

"Take no notice of them, dear Lord Godolphin," smiled Dona, "only have a little more to drink. For what, after all, is the loss of a wig? It might have been something so much more precious, and what would Lady Godolphin do then?" And Rashleigh's neighbour Carnethick, on her left, choked suddenly over his wine.