Part 38 (1/2)

Along the path of the cliff she ran as fast as her bare feet would carry her, struggling and buffeting with the wind and spray till she reached the ”cutting” down to the beach.

It was only a broken track where the rocks sloped and jagged a little, and not too safe at the best of times. She tried to get a foothold, but the wind was too strong, and she was driven back again and again. Then it lulled a little, and she began to descend.

Half-way down there was an ugly turn in the path, and she waited for a gust to pa.s.s before taking it. The wind was stronger than ever out here on the front of the cliff, but she held tight to the jagged rock above.

Round it swept, tearing loose bits of rock and soil from every corner, till her face was cut by the sharpness of the flints!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ROCK SHE CLUNG TO GAVE WAY.]

Close against the cliff it blew until she was almost breathless, when the rock she clung to gave way, and she fell down and down!

Jacob Tressider was awake. He had heard a noise like the breaking of delf in the kitchen below, and he wondered if Bess had heard it too. He got out of bed and dressed himself, and then came down the ladder which did service for a staircase to see what was amiss. The flags in the kitchen were strewn with broken plates, and the front kitchen door swung loosely on its hinges.

[Sidenote: No Answer!]

He called Bess, but there was no answer! He went into her room, the bed was untouched since day! Then he pulled on his great sea-boots and cap and went out to look for her.

The day was dawning when they brought her in and laid her on the bed of her little room more dead than alive. She was soaked through and through, and the seaweed still clung about her hair. Jacob Tresidder stood watching her like a man in a dream as she lay there white and silent.

”Us be mighty sore fer ee, so us be!” said old Benjamin Blake, who had helped to bring her home. ”But teddin fer yew nor I, Jacob, tu go fornenst His will.” And he went out crying like a child.

There was a slight movement of the quiet figure on the coverlid, and Jacob Tresidder's heart stopped beating for a moment as he watched his daughter's brown eyes open once more! They wandered wonderingly to where he was, and rested there, and a faint smile crossed the dying lips.

Then he bowed his head between his hands as he knelt beside her, for he knew that G.o.d had given her back her memory again; and his sobs were the sobs of a thankful heart.

”Vather!” she whispered, and with an effort she stretched the hand nearest to him and touched his sleeve. ”'Tis--all right--now--I be gwine--tu--Ben.”

The dying eyes glowed with love; then with a restful sigh the life pa.s.sed out.

They had battened down the last spadeful of new-dug earth, and once again there was a storm-bred mound in Trewithen churchyard.

The three old comrades stood together in silence looking down on it, making little or no attempt to hide the sorrow that was theirs.

Then Tom Pemberthy said, drawing his hand across his tear-dimmed eyes: ”Us'll miss ur simple wa-ays, sure 'nuff!”

But it was given to ”Clacking Joe” to speak the final words ere they turned their faces homewards.

”'Twas awnly right that we laid ur 'longside o' Ben! When ur was a little chile ur shrimped with 'n! an' when ur was a gert maiden ur walked out with 'n! Please G.o.d, ur'll be the furrst tu spake tu 'n--c.u.m the aftermath!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: SPRING CLEANING.]

[Sidenote: A seasonable chant, possibly useful for recitation purposes.]