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Updated: May 7, 2025
These were people who would not laugh at his terror of Scaw House, at his odd belief that his father was always trying to draw him back to Treliss.... As he entered the supper-room and saw Clare sitting at a distant table, he knew that his wife would never be an Explorer.
For the first time for many months the old shadows stole out into the room the black bulk of Scaw House the trees, the windows, his father.... And to him, tossing on his bed there came thoughts of a certain house in the town. He could get up and dress now a cab would soon take him there ... in the early morning he could slink back. Clare did not want him! A fool to fancy that she had ever cared.
Every day, when he went in to sit with her, they would talk about other things about everything but he knew that before her eyes there was that picture of himself up at Scaw House, and of the years passing and his soul and everything that was fine in him, dying. He saw her growing daily weaker.
"My good old paternal parent made me work many hours each night, and though he knew nothing of the subjects he could read English and would hear all my lessons and other brothers', and we had to say Skagger Rack, Cattegat, Scaw Fell and Helvellyn, and such things to him, and he would abuse us if we mis-arranged the figures and letters in CaH2O2 and H2SO4 and all those things in bottles.
And yet he was astonishingly simple about it all very young and very naive. The two things that he felt about it were, first, that it would please very much his friends Bobby and his wife, Mrs. Brockett, Norah Monogue, Mr. Zanti, Herr Gottfried and, above all, Stephen; and secondly, that all those early years in Cornwall the beatings, his mother, Scaw House, even Dawson's had been of use to him.
'And do you think I'm exactly the man to make her a model husband? 'I don't see why not now you're going to be a partner in a good business. Don't you think I'm ten times as honest a man to-day as I was yesterday? Poor devils can't afford to be what they'd wish, in the way of honesty and decent living. True enough for once, remarked the other, without irony. 'You think it over, Scaw.
After passing Elsinore he commenced to drink harder, but always kept his watch until the Scaw was rounded. Then irregularities became visible. Strong westerly winds were encountered after passing the Jutland coast.
If one could see round the corner, there where the sun flung a patch of red light, one would come upon Scaw House in its dark clump of trees and through the window of that front room, Peter could see his father and that old woman, one on each side of the fire-place, drinking. But the sea-road was stormy to-night, its noise was loud in Peter's ears.
What had he been doing all the time in between? He did not know he had no idea. This new tenant of the house was not aware of those intervening years, was only conscious that he was returning after long exile, to his home Scaw House, yes, that was the name ... the house with the trees and the grey stone walls yes, he would be glad to be at home again with his father.
Cornwall, meanwhile the Grey Hill, Scaw House, the hills above Truro remained to him during these weeks, securely hidden. There remains to be chronicled of that first term only the Comber Fight and, a little conversation, one windy day, with Galleon.
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