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Certain it is, however, that no doubts of this description troubled the mind of Thomas Clarkson Verity, when, in the closing decade of the eighteenth century, he purchased the house at Deadham Hard, known as Tandy's Castle, overlooking the deep and comparatively narrow channel by which the Rivers Arne and Wilner, after crossing the tide-flats and salt-marsh of Marychurch Haven, make their swift united exit into Marychurch Bay.
"Darcy Faircloth Captain Faircloth?" he could not but repeat, and with such honest puzzlement and evident desire for further enlightening as to overcome his hearer's hesitation. "No not a likely person for you to be in any wise acquainted with, sir," Jennifer returned, wary still, though yielding "even if you didn't happen to be a bit new to Deadham yourself, as I may put it.
She was very possessive about you, more I felt than she'd any real right to be. That, I'm afraid, put my back up that and one or two other things. She and General Frayling think of settling in Stourmouth for good, if Mr. Wace is appointed to the Deadham curacy." "The curacy here?" Damaris echoed, a rather lurid light breaking in on her.
"Then I have you authority for contradicting these rumours?" The Vicar of Deadham groaned in the darkness, and rustled under the bedclothes. His perplexity was great on being thus confronted by the time-honoured question as to how far, in the interests of public morality, it is justifiable for the private individual roundly to lie.
The bi-weekly packet from Deadham addressed in Mary Fisher's careful copy-book hand arrived at luncheon time, and contained, among much of apparently lesser interest, a diverting chronicle of Tom Verity's impressions and experiences during the first six weeks of his Indian sojourn. The young man's gaily self-confident humour had survived his transplantation.
And he motioned the blushing Theresa to fall into step with him, and with Dr. Horniblow, at the head of the Deadham procession.
Yet Deadham church bell plaintively, insistently tolling, the sound reaching her muted by the thickness of the fog, kept her attention on the stretch for the ensuing hour. Startling as it was poignant, Charles Verity's demand to see her, six days ago, brought the story of her love to full circle. Their meeting had been of the briefest, for he was exhausted by pain.
Then, slightly ashamed of his outburst, Tom practised a delightful smile, at once sentimental and flirtatious. "No, on second thoughts, my dear princess, I keep my commiseration for my wretched self every crumb of it. For I am the lonely exile that is, I am just about to be not you. Be advised, don't quarrel with the good gifts of the gods. Deadham Hard is frankly entrancing.
The girl squared her shoulders a little, and the soft colour deepened in her cheeks, as she swung the dog-cart down the drive and out of the entrance gate into the road here a green-roofed tunnel, branches meeting overhead, thickly carpeted with dry sand blown inward from the beach and on past the whitewashed cottages, red brick and grey stone houses of Deadham village, their gardens pleasant with flowers, and with apple and pear trees weighted down by fruit.
Skirting the further edge of the warren, a wide rutted side lane leads down to the landward end of the said causeway from the village green, just opposite Deadham post office and Mrs. Doubleday's general shop. A neglected somewhat desolate strip of road this, between broken earthbanks topped by ragged firs, yet very paintable and dear to the sketch-book of the amateur.
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