Phineas Eva, parish clerk of St. Gwithian, came to call on Teresa one afternoon shortly after the catastrophe. He was dressed in his best, which was not very good, but signified that it was a visit of importance.
He twittered some platitudes about the weather, local and foreign affairs—the American colonists were on the point of armed rebellion, he was creditably informed—tut, tut! But meeting with no encouragement from his hostess he dwindled into silence and sat perched on the edge of the settle, blinking his pale eyes and twitching his hat in his rheumatic claws. Teresa seemed unaware of his presence. She crouched motionless in her chair, chin propped on knuckles, a somber, brooding figure.
Phineas noted that her cheeks and eyelids were swollen, her raven hair hanging in untidy coils, and feared she had been roistering again. If so she would be in an evil mood. She was a big, strong woman, he a small, weak man. He trembled for his skin. Still he must out with it somehow, come what might. There was his wife to face at the other end, and he was no less terrified of his wife. He must out with it. Of the two it is better to propitiate the devil you live with than the devil you don’t. He hummed and hawed, squirmed on his perch, and then with a gulp and a splutter came out with it.
His daughter Tamsin was in trouble, and Ortho was the cause. He had to repeat himself twice before Teresa would take any notice, and then all she did was to nod her head.
Phineas took courage; she had neither sworn nor pounced at him. He spoke his piece. Of course Ortho would do the right thing by Tamsin; she was a good girl, a very good girl, docile and domestic, would make him an excellent wife. Ortho was under a cloud at present, but that would blow over—King Nick had powerful influence and stood by his own. Parson Coverdale of St. Just was always friendly to the Free Traders; he would marry them without question. He understood Ortho was in hiding among the St. Just tinners; it would be most convenient. He . . . Teresa shook her head slowly.
Not at St. Just? Then he had been blown over to Scilly after all. Oh, well, as soon as he could get back Parson Coverdale would . . . Again Teresa shook her head.