“That is well, that is well. A little patience will often carry us through the darkest days. By-and-by show me about where thou wast wrecked. Ay, the sea is a terrible place for mischances, and for myself I cannot think how men can be found willing to encounter such risks. There is talk of building larger vessels and adventuring longer voyages, but ’tis a rash idea. What know we of the awful regions that they might light upon, or whether the vessels might not be carried too close to the edge of the world? Nay, nay, keep to land, say I. Those who must explore may travel there as Marco Polo hath done, and indeed there are many tales going about the wonders of the Court of the great Khan of Tartary.”
The road, as they journeyed on, became very beautiful, so wooded was it and broken, and with ever-widening views of water to the left, while on the right after a time they saw the ridges of Dartmoor, a very bleak and barren country, as Elyas told the boy, but now looking softly grey and delicate in colour. By this time they had reached the Teign, and here at Kingsteignton stopped to rest their horses, at a house belonging to the Burdons of that place, Elyas having done some work for them, and requiring to see it in its finished condition. Plain country people they were, and awkward and uncouth in manners, two or three boys on bare-backed colts riding up as Gervase and Hugh arrived, and pointing at them with bursts of laughter. The girls, Hugh thought, were little better, and the fashion of their garments curiously odd and slatternly. When supper—which was very plentifully provided—was over, they set forth again on their journey, getting into a most vile road, which lasted for some miles, but took them without adventure to Tor Mohun, although it led them through an extraordinary number of rocks and tors, and also between exceedingly thick woods.
Gervase had never been there before, and was no more prepared than Hugh for the view which met their eyes when they came out of the circle of these woods. For there lay a very noble bay, well shut in, and with very beautiful and thickly wooded cliffs rising up on the eastern side. In a hollow of these cliffs and hills there clustered a few miserable hovels, otherwise it was a wild solitude, only so tempered by a kindly climate and the softness of the sea breezes that there was nothing rough or savage about it; and just now, towards sunset, with the sea like opal glass, and the colours all most bright and yet delicate, and the thorns yet in blossom, it was exceedingly pleasant to the eye, and Dame Alicia’s house, though standing back, had it well in view.
It was plain that she was a great lady by the size of the building and the number of retainers about, but they heard afterwards that these were not all hers, Sir William de Sandridge from Stoke Gabriel, and Sir Robert le Denys of Blagdon in the moor, having ridden over to spend two or three nights. An elderly squire took charge of Gervase and his apprentice, showing them the little room that was to be theirs, and telling the warden that his lady had been eagerly expecting his coming, and would see him the next day.
Elyas asked whether he should find workmen in the chapel early in the morning.
“No fear, goodman,” said the squire with a laugh; “Dame Alicia is not one to let the grass grow under her feet, and I would not answer but what she may keep them there all night. Go as early as thou wilt; follow this passage, turn down another to the right, and thou wilt come to a door with steps, which will take thee there.”
The next few days were days of both wonder and amusement to Hugh. Dame Alicia was a fiery and impetuous little lady, using such strong language as would have brought her a heavy fine had she been an apprentice; ruling her household and serfs with much sharpness, disposed to domineer, yet with a kind heart which prevented any serious tyranny, and sometimes moved her to shame for too hasty acts. She was at times very impatient with Elyas, expecting her wishes to be carried out in an unreasonably short time, and that all other work should give way to hers; but the stonemason had a dignity of his own, which never failed him, and kept him quietly resolute in spite of sudden storms. He would not consent to undertake the carving of the pulpit, or ambo, which she wanted set about, declaring that he had too much already on hand, nor would he yield to Sir Robert le Denys and go to Blagdon to advise on alterations there. All, however, that he had to do at Tor Mohun he did admirably. It was a proud day to Hugh when he saw the bosses he had carved fixed in the vaulted roof. He worked all day in the chantry with delight, and would scarcely have left it had not Gervase insisted on his going forth into the air. Then sometimes he would go out in one of the rude fishing-boats, and was delighted to find a man who knew Andrew of Dartmouth, and promised to convey tidings of Hugh to him.
At the end of a week, in spite of Dame Alicia’s reluctance, Elyas and Hugh went back to Exeter again, and to the old life, which had become so familiar.