“Rather to the brave man diving off in order to lighten the boat.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Well said. Watch for me coming aboard again laden with plunder from the wars!”
On the Tuesday I went to see my father and told him I wished to be married.
“What? This is quick since you came home. Who is it? Someone in the house?”
“Philip Reskymer died in September. I want to marry his widow, who was Susanna Farnaby.”
He had been startled out of his dejection, and you could see him thinking if there would be any advantage in this for him. “Philip Reskymer’s widow? Hm … Well, you could do much worse for yourself. She’ll be a woman of some property. Now if “
“Most of it was entailed.”
“Hm. But she’ll be no pauper. Well, boy, there’s no harm in being wed. It’s a proper state for man. You can live here and pay some small sum. There’s room in plenty now, and she’d be company for my daughter-in-law. That way you can be a greater help and support.”
“Father, I’m sorry, but I want to make my own way. It’s not unnatural.”
“Have you suggested she should live here?”
“I know she would not be willing.”
“She’ll have some property. Look after that. Why go into the hurry-burly of up-country life?”
“We both want to.”
He sat in offended silence for a while. It was in keeping with his mood that even his base son whom he had befriended so often and so freely should now turn against him. I could see him thinking it: this is gratitude.
“I’m sorry, father.”
“Well … I can help you not at all. When do you intend to go? “
“Oh, it’s not decided. We cannot marry until next year. I must see the Raleghs and tell them how their cousin died.”
“Ah, well, he’s the man to be in with. He has the ear of the Queen now, just like in the old days. And even friendly with Essex! God knows, that’s not likely to last!”
“I hope it will. Sir Walter and Lord Essex have a generosity under their seeming arrogance that could very well keep them friends.”
“In my view, boy, nothing will keep them friends, for they are on two different ends of a see-saw. One or other must be up or down.”
“And Cecil?”
“Ah … He is at the centre and so moves little. The Killigrews are hitched to him, and should continue to prosper. It’s only I, isolated down here, neglected in times of security, blamed in times of peril, it’s only I who suffer. Never was greater injustice done to a man than by these upstart military strutting like cockerels over my land, acting out sham heroics in my castle, now that the danger is over when I have borne the brunt of the true peril for so many years alone quite alonel”
“Father,” I said, “I’m glad the Armada failed.”
He sniffed and eased himself in his chair to let a notch out of his sword belt. “Well, of course, who is not? For I should have been in the forefront of the battle and one of the first to fall. With the fleet away and her coasts unguarded, England would have been overrun. That great storm was a signal mercy.”
“It is better in every way that the Armada failed, father. It truly is, for it saved a a final decision that I should not have liked you to make.”
For a while he did not speak, breathing heavily with relief that his stomach now had more liberty. “Whatever decision was made was made long before, Maugan. But’s all dead and forgotten now. Whatever might have been is dead and forgotten.”
The following day my father received a letter from the Privy Council. It summoned him to Westminster to appear before them on the 27th November to account for his stewardship of Pendennis Castle.
CHAPTER THREE
Those who were less inward than I to the events of that time must have wondered at Mr Killigrew’s attitude before he left for Westminster. He made a new will. He wrote at once to his uncles Henry and William, telling them that he had been sum moned to Court and that, since his affairs were in great dis order and his family in distress, he proposed to bring up with him his two sons Thomas and Henry to place in their keeping forthwith. He wrote to John telling him to return to Ar wenack in all haste and to take charge of the house and estate. He told me to prepare to go with him so that I could accom pany him to the Council meeting and be on hand if needed. He wrote to Ralegh asking him what grievous and unwitting wrong he had committed in his eyes that Ralegh’s report should have been so unfavourable. He wrote to Cecil giving an account of his exertions over the last two years in the cause of military defence. He fondled his younger children in a way that frightened them and delivered homilies to Mrs Killigrew that frightened her. He summoned the ramshackle Henry Knyvett from Rosemerryn and for long periods was closeted with him in Lady Killigrew’s chamber.
There were some days before we need leave, so I saw Sue again. I told her as much as possible but could say nothing on the larger issues. She said this was the ideal time to present Mr Arundell’s letter to Lord Henry Howard. I said my first duty was with Mr Killigrew, but if we stayed long enough I would call. She said: “You must, Maugan. It’s only fair to us both. Please.”
While there I met the Reverend John Tremearne, who was to take over the living of Paul next week. He was a blackcoated, serious man, though not of the class of Reskymer. When we were alone he asked me with interest about the Inquisition and Spain’s own attitude towards it. It seemed an opportunity to air a matter that had been much concerning me.
“While in Ferrol, Mr Tremearne, I met two Englishmen who had accepted the Catholic faith in order to save their lives. How would you regard such people?”
He stared at me angrily, as if surprised at the question. “As traitors to Christ, Mr Killigrew. Men who have sold their immortal souls for a brief lengthening of mortal existence. How else could they accept the teachings and doctrines of the the latrine called Rome?”
“Yes … Yes, I see. One of these men was much troubled, but the other took it lightly. He was of the opinion that oaths and dedications made under duress were of no importance.”
“Denials of God must be important, Mr Killigrew or words and deeds have no meaning left at all. Do you not suppose that almost all the glorious martyrs of old were not so tempted and did not so resist? Latimer and Ridley among them. They rejected these evil excremental fumes from the bog of Roman Catholic Europe. What shall it profit a man if he gaineth the whole world and loses his soul?”
“The other man,” I said, “the one who was troubled, reasoned that God, who understood all things, would forgive all things and resolved when he returned to England to return to the new faith. Do you suppose he could do that?”
“He should go to his bishop and ask advice of him. Legally, of course, there would be no problem. If he attends the services of our reformed church and communicates, that is all required of him by the Crown. Spiritually, he must surely spend hours on his knees every day asking the forgiveness of Christ for his betrayal. Peter was forgiven. Possibly he would be if he applied himself to his prayers perseveringly and in all humility.”
I could hear Sue’s footsteps. My mind turned back gratefully and perhaps not altogether irreligiously to her. In three months we should be married. Not any of the subtle problems of conscience, not the decay and deterioration at Arwenack, could touch that exalting thought.
We left on Thursday morning the 17th, a party of six, there being Mr Killigrew and Thomas and Henry and myself, and Thomas Rosewarne and Stephen Wilkey.