what could be his reason for such travel? I had understood that those French relations he once possessed were all murdered in the revolt.”
“Oh! I daresay he is in some line of trade.” Eliza's tone was careless. “Though while the Monster yet holds the throne of France in thrall, all trade is at an end. Mr. Sidmouth and I are quite agreed that now Buonaparte has crowned himself Emperor, and has begun to murder his opponents,7 the condition of the country can only worsen. I was forced to turn the conversation, in fact, from fear that the gendeman's opinions should become too heated. He grew quite warm in his discussion of French policy, and that, with a lady.”
“In trade?” I said, all wonderment. “He certainly gives no indication of it. I should have thought Mr. Sidmouth a gentleman of easy circumstances.”
“Even a man with four thousand a year, my dear Jane, may use his property in a profitable fashion.” Eliza was all impatience. “I cannot name for you the legions of gentlemen in London alone who serve as Venturers8 for all manner of commercial enterprise. Their money is their proxy—they may benefit from its utility in the hands of others, and keep their own fingers clean of such vulgar stuff as buying and selling.”
“How very extraordinary,” Cassandra murmured.
I turned to agree with her; and found she was absorbed in examining a fragment of shell. “The whorls and chambers of this bit of stuff—this sea-creature's home—are as fully a work of art as any Italian sculpture. How wonderful is Nature!”
Put out of temper with both my companions, I left the water's edge and wandered aimlessly back towards the fossil site. I was required to stop, however, and glance about to find my way; Charmouth beach at such an hour was crowded with pleasure-seekers, attempting the waters in bathing machines, or walking with some difficulty through the heavy drift of sand. I raised a hand to my brow and narrowed my eyes, the better to find a familiar face—and stopped short in my survey, upon sighting what could only be an overturned skiff drawn up on the shingle, quite barnacled and scraped about its exterior, as from heavy use. What paint remained upon its wood, however, was a rich, deep green.
I approached it slowly, my pulse at fever pitch, the thought of the ring at the end of the Cobb my only consideration . Was this the very vessel that had borne the unfortunate Bill Tibbit and his gallows to the stone pier's end? At the skiff's side, I dropped to my knees in the sand, heedless of my muslin, and studied it soberly. Several long scratches were cut deeply into the wood—the result, perhaps, of bobbing against the Gobb in the dead of night, though they might have been acquired in any number of ways.
“Miss Austen,” came a voice at my elbow; and I jumped.
“Mr. Sidmouth!”
“Should you like to take a turn upon the waves?”
I attempted a smile. “I confess, it is not my favoured pursuit, though I am of a Naval family.”
He bent and patted the boat's sturdy prow, from which an anchor, small but mortally sharp, protruded. “La Gas-cogne could never do you harm,” he said. “She is Lyme-built, and has performed many a useful service.”
“You know the boat, then?” I enquired, its very name having the power to rob me of all complaisance.
“These ten years, at least,” he replied with a smile. “When a local fishing family had no further use for her, I took her under the Grange's wing, and seaworthy she has proved. You are certain you do not wish to take a turn? A pair of stout fellows at the oars, and we should be beyond the surf in a thrice.”
“My apologies, Mr. Sidmouth,” I said, rising with effort, the image of the gibbet before my eyes, “but I fear my stomach is not equal to a ride in such a vessel.”
“AND DID YOU ENJOY YOUR FIRST DAY ABROAD, MISS AUSTEN?” Captain Fielding enquired, as his stout ponies jogged up the road from Charmouth. Given the lateness of the hour, we had determined to forgo a pleasure drive, and turn instead towards the Captain's house, there to take tea and a tour of his gardens, of which he was quite proud. “I trust you are not overly fatigued?”
“I must confess to feeling a little exhausted/’ Cassandra said faindy from her seat opposite. Captain Fielding had settled himself at my side in the open carriage, while