Free The Stranger From The Sea by Winston Graham Page A

not have known how to begin!. Ten years ago, with all the culture that Elizabeth brought, I could not have done it. But there it is; evidence of maturity, a growing elegance of thought; a blacksmith's grandson has become a courtier! Even Lady Harriet's friends could not have done better than that.
    At length he sent it off, reluctant to part with it to the last. As the groom clattered away on his fifteen-mile ride, Gary Warleggan came into the parlour with news just received from London that the King had gone mad.

Chapter Five
I
    On the 10 th of November Demelza had just finished making her weekly saffron cakes and was wondering how long it would be before Ross was home to taste them. In all their years together he had so far only been absent from home once at Christmas. In 1 807 he had travelled with the Earl of Pembroke on a special mission to the Austrians. He had not in fact ever got to Vienna, having been sent flying home from Copenhagen to report that France was intent on forcing Denmark into war with England. But then, no sooner was he in London than he was despatched again to Portugal as part of a mission to try to encourage the Royal Family to leave Lisbon and seek safety in Brazil.
    That Demelza had not minded so much. She had heard he was safe back in London and knew precisely what the second mission was - in any event it was an honour to be so chosen and the dangers did not appear too great. But this latest invitation had reached him in Cornwall, and although he did not go into details his attitude showed that it was of a more secret and risky nature, and of such a kind that he was a little dubious about taking it on. However he had gone, and apart from a letter telling her of his arrival in London, nothing since. She presumed he was still in Portugal. There had come news recently of a British victory there - but followed by a continued withdrawal from the country recently liberated. It was all very confusing. And disquieting.
    Of course Ross was a noncombatant, a civilian, a visitor, someone whose business it was to observe, not fight. But in battle the dividing line tended to get blurred. In any event she knew too well that it was not in Ross's nature to steer clear of conflict if he happened to become accidentally - and patriotically - involved.
    So what it amounted to was this: at any time, at any moment in any day, while she was in the still-room rearranging the jars, while she was decorating the raisin cake, while she was scolding Isabella-Rose for getting into a temper, while she was rubbing her teeth with a mallow root to clean them - at any of these moments Ross might be dying of wounds on some dusty hillside in Portugal, sick of a fever in a hospital and unable to hold a pen, just safely returned to London and writing to her now, or jogging on a coach between St Austell and Truro on the very last stage of his journey home.
    It was necessary to continue to live every hour as it came, prosaically, steadily, concentrating on domestic things, life in the house, at the mine, in the villages, arranging and preparing meals, seeing that there was enough ale, ordering coal and wood against the coming winter - and, as the lady of the manor, so to speak - being available to listen to complaints, resolve little difficulties, help the needy, be a sort of nucleus for the Christmas preparations whether in the church or the surrounding countryside.
    And, if a horse clattered unexpectedly over the cobbles, it was really rather stupid to let one's heart lurch in sudden expectation.
    The ioth November was a quiet, heavy day, and Jeremy had gone fishing again with Paul Kellow and Ben Carter. In the winter, instead of staying out till supper-time, they usually returned at dusk, so Demelza decided she would take a stroll down to the cove in the hope of meeting them as they returned.
    It was only a month now from the eleventh anniversary of Elizabeth's death, and to Demelza the time had flown. Indeed, stretching it a bit