The White Wolf and Other Fireside TalesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
Science
The White Wolf and Other Fireside Tales
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Short stories, English
But this time--the weather being fine and settled, and the winds light--
he was trying a faster game, and had sent the sean-boat right across
channel to Roscoff, keeping his sailing-craft in harbour. It would be
dark before nine, no moon till after mid-night, and by all calculations
the boat ought to make the cove between ten and eleven, after lying well
outside and waiting her chance. It all seemed promising enough, but
somehow the King couldn't be quite easy.
However, he listened quietly, and the preacher talked away for one solid
hour, until Uncle Billy Leggo (who had been keeping watch all the
afternoon) came knocking at the door. "You'll excuse me a minute," said
the King, and went outside to hear the report. The weather had been
flat calm all day, with a slow ground-swell running into the cove, but
with the cool of the evening a light off-shore breeze had sprung up, and
Uncle Billy had just seen the Revenue cutter stealing out from Penzance.
"Botheration!" said Captain Carter, and fined himself sixpence.
Then he went back to the parlour, and the preacher started afresh.
Twice again before supper came Uncle Billy with news of the cutter's
movements, and the second time there could be no mistaking them, for she
was dodging back and forth and lying foxy around Cuddan Point.
All through supper the preacher talked on and on, and the King ate
without knowing what he was eating. He couldn't afford to lose this
cargo; yet Mr. Collector Wearne meant business this time, and would
collar the boat to a certainty unless she were warned off. But to show
a light from the coast meant a hundred pounds fine or twelve months'
hard labour. The King slewed round in his chair and looked at the great
pile of shavings in the fireplace. A hundred pounds fine with the
chance of burning the house-thatch about his ears!
Supper over, he and his guests turned their chairs towards the
fireplace. The King took flint and steel and struck a match; lit his
pipe, and stared at the shavings; then dropped the light on the floor,
ground it out with his heel, and puffed away thoughtfully. The preacher
went on talking.
"Render unto Caesar . . . tribute to whom tribute is due. That applies
to King George to-day every bit so much as it did to Caesar."
"Caesar and King George be two different persons," said Captain John,
stopping his pipe with his thumb.
"The principle's the same."
"I don't see it," said the captain. "I read my Bible, and it says that
Caesar ordered the whole world to be taxed. Now that's sense.
Caesar didn't go niggling away with a duty on silk here and another on
brandy there and another on tea and another on East Indy calicoes. Mind
you, I've got no personal feeling against King George; but it does annoy
me to see a man calling hisself King of England and making money in
these petty ways."
"It's his birthday to-day," put in Mrs. Geen; "though I didn't remember
it till I saw the flag on Ardevora church-tower this morning."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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