Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition

Chapter 40

TWO FOOLS TOGETHER

That story of John Fry's, instead of causing any amusement, gave us
great disquietude; not only because it showed that Tom Faggus could not
resist sudden temptation and the delight of wildness, but also that we
greatly feared lest the King's pardon might be annulled, and all his
kindness cancelled, by a reckless deed of that sort. It was true (as
Annie insisted continually, even with tears, to wear in her arguments)
that Tom had not brought away anything, except the warrants, which were
of no use at all, after receipt of the pardon; neither had he used any
violence, except just to frighten people; but could it be established,
even towards Christmas_time, that Tom had a right to give alms, right
and left, out of other people's money?

Dear Annie appeared to believe that it could; saying that if the rich
continually chose to forget the poor, a man who forced them to remember,
and so to do good to themselves and to others, was a public benefactor,
and entitled to every blessing. But I knew, and so Lizzie knew__John Fry
being now out of hearing__that this was not sound argument. For, if it
came to that, any man might take the King by the throat, and make him
cast away among the poor the money which he wanted sadly for Her Grace
the Duchess, and the beautiful Countess, of this, and of that. Lizzie,
of course, knew nothing about His Majesty's diversions, which were not
fit for a young maid's thoughts; but I now put the form of the argument
as it occurred to me.

Therefore I said, once for all (and both my sisters always listened when
I used the deep voice from my chest):

'Tom Faggus hath done wrong herein; wrong to himself, and to our Annie.
All he need have done was to show his pardon, and the magistrates would
have rejoiced with him. He might have led a most godly life, and have
been respected by everybody; and knowing how brave Tom is, I thought
that he would have done as much. Now if I were in love with a maid'__I
put it thus for the sake of poor Lizzie__'never would I so imperil my
life, and her fortune in life along with me, for the sake of a poor
diversion. A man's first duty is to the women, who are forced to hang
upon him'__

'Oh, John, not that horrible word,' cried Annie, to my great surprise,
and serious interruption; 'oh, John, any word but that!' And she burst
forth crying terribly.

'What word, Lizzie? What does the wench mean?' I asked, in the saddest
vexation; seeing no good to ask Annie at all, for she carried on most
dreadfully.

'Don't you know, you stupid lout?' said Lizzie, completing my
wonderment, by the scorn of her quicker intelligence; 'if you don't
know, axe about?'

And with that, I was forced to be content; for Lizzie took Annie in such
a manner (on purpose to vex me, as I could see) with her head drooping
down, and her hair coming over, and tears and sobs rising and falling,
to boot, without either order or reason, that seeing no good for a
man to do (since neither of them was Lorna), I even went out into the
courtyard, and smoked a pipe, and wondered what on earth is the meaning
of women.

Now in this I was wrong and unreasonable (as all women will
acknowledge); but sometimes a man is so put out, by the way they take
on about nothing, that he really cannot help thinking, for at least
a minute, that women are a mistake for ever, and hence are for ever
mistaken. Nevertheless I could not see that any of these great thoughts
and ideas applied at all to my Lorna; but that she was a different
being; not woman enough to do anything bad, yet enough of a woman for
man to adore.

And now a thing came to pass which tested my adoration pretty sharply,
inasmuch as I would far liefer faced Carver Doone and his father, nay,
even the roaring lion himself with his hoofs and flaming nostrils, than
have met, in cold blood, Sir Ensor Doone, the founder of all the colony,
and the fear of the very fiercest.

But that I was forced to do at this time, and in the manner following.
When I went up one morning to look for my seven rooks' nests, behold
there were but six to be seen; for the topmost of them all was gone,
and the most conspicuous. I looked, and looked, and rubbed my eyes, and
turned to try them by other sights; and then I looked again; yes, there
could be no doubt about it; the signal was made for me to come, because
my love was in danger. For me to enter the valley now, during the broad
daylight, could have brought no comfort, but only harm to the maiden,
and certain death to myself. Yet it was more than I could do to keep
altogether at distance; therefore I ran to the nearest place where I
could remain unseen, and watched the glen from the wooded height, for
hours and hours, impatiently.

However, no impatience of mine made any difference in the scene upon
which I was gazing. In the part of the valley which I could see, there
was nothing moving, except the water, and a few stolen cows, going sadly
along, as if knowing that they had no honest right there. It sank very
heavily into my heart, with all the beds of dead leaves around it, and
there was nothing I cared to do, except blow on my fingers, and long for
more wit.

For a frost was beginning, which made a great difference to Lorna and to
myself, I trow; as well as to all the five million people who dwell in
this island of England; such a frost as never I saw before,* neither
hope ever to see again; a time when it was impossible to milk a cow for
icicles, or for a man to shave some of his beard (as I liked to do for
Lorna's sake, because she was so smooth) without blunting his razor
on hard gray ice. No man could 'keep yatt' (as we say), even though he
abandoned his work altogether, and thumped himself, all on the chest and
the front, till his frozen hands would have been bleeding except for the
cold that kept still all his veins.

     * If John Ridd lived until the year 1740 (as so strong a man
     was bound to do), he must have seen almost a harder frost;
     and perhaps it put an end to him; for then he would be some
     fourscore years old.  But tradition makes him 'keep yatt,'
     as he says, up to fivescore years.__ED.

However, at present there was no frost, although for a fortnight
threatening; and I was too young to know the meaning of the way the dead
leaves hung, and the worm_casts prickling like women's combs, and
the leaden tone upon everything, and the dead weight of the sky. Will
Watcombe, the old man at Lynmouth, who had been half over the world
almost, and who talked so much of the Gulf_stream, had (as I afterwards
called to mind) foretold a very bitter winter this year. But no one
would listen to him because there were not so many hips and haws as
usual; whereas we have all learned from our grandfathers that Providence
never sends very hard winters, without having furnished a large supply
of berries for the birds to feed upon.

It was lucky for me, while I waited here, that our very best sheep_dog,
old Watch, had chosen to accompany me that day. For otherwise I must
have had no dinner, being unpersuaded, even by that, to quit my survey
of the valley. However, by aid of poor Watch, I contrived to obtain a
supply of food; for I sent him home with a note to Annie fastened upon
his chest; and in less than an hour back he came, proud enough to wag
his tail off, with his tongue hanging out from the speed of his journey,
and a large lump of bread and of bacon fastened in a napkin around his
neck. I had not told my sister, of course, what was toward; for why
should I make her anxious?

When it grew towards dark, I was just beginning to prepare for my
circuit around the hills; but suddenly Watch gave a long low growl; I
kept myself close as possible, and ordered the dog to be silent, and
presently saw a short figure approaching from a thickly_wooded hollow on
the left side of my hiding_place. It was the same figure I had seen once
before in the moonlight, at Plover's Barrows; and proved, to my great
delight, to be the little maid Gwenny Carfax. She started a moment, at
seeing me, but more with surprise than fear; and then she laid both her
hands upon mine, as if she had known me for twenty years.

'Young man,' she said, 'you must come with me. I was gwain' all the
way to fetch thee. Old man be dying; and her can't die, or at least her
won't, without first considering thee.'

'Considering me!' I cried; 'what can Sir Ensor Doone want with
considering me? Has Mistress Lorna told him?'

'All concerning thee, and thy doings; when she knowed old man were so
near his end. That vexed he was about thy low blood, a' thought her
would come to life again, on purpose for to bate 'ee. But after all,
there can't be scarcely such bad luck as that. Now, if her strook thee,
thou must take it; there be no denaying of un. Fire I have seen afore,
hot and red, and raging; but I never seen cold fire afore, and it maketh
me burn and shiver.'

And in truth, it made me both burn and shiver, to know that I must
either go straight to the presence of Sir Ensor Doone, or give up Lorna,
once for all, and rightly be despised by her. For the first time of my
life, I thought that she had not acted fairly. Why not leave the old man
in peace, without vexing him about my affair? But presently I saw again
that in this matter she was right; that she could not receive the old
man's blessing (supposing that he had one to give, which even a worse
man might suppose), while she deceived him about herself, and the life
she had undertaken.

Therefore, with great misgiving of myself, but no ill thought of my
darling, I sent Watch home, and followed Gwenny; who led me along very
rapidly, with her short broad form gliding down the hollow, from which
she had first appeared. Here at the bottom, she entered a thicket of
gray ash stubs and black holly, with rocks around it gnarled with roots,
and hung with masks of ivy. Here in a dark and lonely corner, with a
pixie ring before it, she came to a narrow door, very brown and solid,
looking like a trunk of wood at a little distance. This she opened,
without a key, by stooping down and pressing it, where the threshold met
the jamb; and then she ran in very nimbly, but I was forced to be
bent in two, and even so without comfort. The passage was close and
difficult, and as dark as any black pitch; but it was not long (be it as
it might), and in that there was some comfort. We came out soon at the
other end, and were at the top of Doone valley. In the chilly dusk air,
it looked most untempting, especially during that state of mind under
which I was labouring. As we crossed towards the Captain's house, we
met a couple of great Doones lounging by the waterside. Gwenny said
something to them, and although they stared very hard at me, they let me
pass without hindrance. It is not too much to say that when the little
maid opened Sir Ensor's door, my heart thumped, quite as much with
terror as with hope of Lorna's presence.

But in a moment the fear was gone, for Lorna was trembling in my arms,
and my courage rose to comfort her. The darling feared, beyond all
things else, lest I should be offended with her for what she had said to
her grandfather, and for dragging me into his presence; but I told her
almost a falsehood (the first, and the last, that ever I did tell her),
to wit, that I cared not that much__and showed her the tip of my thumb
as I said it__for old Sir Ensor, and all his wrath, so long as I had his
granddaughter's love.

Now I tried to think this as I said it, so as to save it from being a
lie; but somehow or other it did not answer, and I was vexed with myself
both ways. But Lorna took me by the hand as bravely as she could, and
led me into a little passage where I could hear the river moaning and
the branches rustling.

Here I passed as long a minute as fear ever cheated time of, saying
to myself continually that there was nothing to be frightened at, yet
growing more and more afraid by reason of so reasoning. At last my Lorna
came back very pale, as I saw by the candle she carried, and whispered,
'Now be patient, dearest. Never mind what he says to you; neither
attempt to answer him. Look at him gently and steadfastly, and, if you
can, with some show of reverence; but above all things, no compassion;
it drives him almost mad. Now come; walk very quietly.'

She led me into a cold, dark room, rough and very gloomy, although with
two candles burning. I took little heed of the things in it, though I
marked that the window was open. That which I heeded was an old man,
very stern and comely, with death upon his countenance; yet not lying in
his bed, but set upright in a chair, with a loose red cloak thrown over
him. Upon this his white hair fell, and his pallid fingers lay in a
ghastly fashion without a sign of life or movement or of the power that
kept him up; all rigid, calm, and relentless. Only in his great black
eyes, fixed upon me solemnly, all the power of his body dwelt, all the
life of his soul was burning.

I could not look at him very nicely, being afeared of the death in his
face, and most afeared to show it. And to tell the truth, my poor
blue eyes fell away from the blackness of his, as if it had been my
coffin_plate. Therefore I made a low obeisance, and tried not to shiver.
Only I groaned that Lorna thought it good manners to leave us two
together.

'Ah,' said the old man, and his voice seemed to come from a cavern of
skeletons; 'are you that great John Ridd?'

'John Ridd is my name, your honour,' was all that I could answer; 'and I
hope your worship is better.'

'Child, have you sense enough to know what you have been doing?'

'Yes, I knew right well,' I answered, 'that I have set mine eyes far
above my rank.'

'Are you ignorant that Lorna Doone is born of the oldest families
remaining in North Europe?'

'I was ignorant of that, your worship; yet I knew of her high descent
from the Doones of Bagworthy.'

The old man's eyes, like fire, probed me whether I was jesting; then
perceiving how grave I was, and thinking that I could not laugh (as many
people suppose of me), he took on himself to make good the deficiency
with a very bitter smile.

'And know you of your own low descent from the Ridds of Oare?'

'Sir,' I answered, being as yet unaccustomed to this style of speech,
'the Ridds, of Oare, have been honest men twice as long as the Doones
have been rogues.'

'I would not answer for that, John,' Sir Ensor replied, very quietly,
when I expected fury. 'If it be so, thy family is the very oldest in
Europe. Now hearken to me, boy, or clown, or honest fool, or whatever
thou art; hearken to an old man's words, who has not many hours to live.
There is nothing in this world to fear, nothing to revere or trust,
nothing even to hope for; least of all, is there aught to love.'

'I hope your worship is not quite right,' I answered, with great
misgivings; 'else it is a sad mistake for anybody to live, sir.'

'Therefore,' he continued, as if I had never spoken, 'though it may seem
hard for a week or two, like the loss of any other toy, I deprive you of
nothing, but add to your comfort, and (if there be such a thing) to your
happiness, when I forbid you ever to see that foolish child again. All
marriage is a wretched farce, even when man and wife belong to the same
rank of life, have temper well assorted, similar likes and dislikes, and
about the same pittance of mind. But when they are not so matched,
the farce would become a long, dull tragedy, if anything were worth
lamenting. There, I have reasoned enough with you; I am not in the habit
of reasoning. Though I have little confidence in man's honour, I have
some reliance in woman's pride. You will pledge your word in Lorna's
presence never to see or to seek her again; never even to think of her
more. Now call her, for I am weary.'

He kept his great eyes fixed upon me with their icy fire (as if he
scorned both life and death), and on his haughty lips some slight
amusement at my trouble; and then he raised one hand (as if I were a
poor dumb creature), and pointed to the door. Although my heart rebelled
and kindled at his proud disdain, I could not disobey him freely; but
made a low salute, and went straightway in search of Lorna.

I found my love (or not my love; according as now she should behave; for
I was very desperate, being put upon so sadly); Lorna Doone was crying
softly at a little window, and listening to the river's grief. I laid
my heavy arm around her, not with any air of claiming or of forcing
her thoughts to me, but only just to comfort her, and ask what she was
thinking of. To my arm she made no answer, neither to my seeking eyes;
but to my heart, once for all, she spoke with her own upon it. Not a
word, nor sound between us; not even a kiss was interchanged; but man,
or maid, who has ever loved hath learned our understanding.

Therefore it came to pass, that we saw fit to enter Sir Ensor's room in
the following manner. Lorna, with her right hand swallowed entirely by
the palm of mine, and her waist retired from view by means of my left
arm. All one side of her hair came down, in a way to be remembered, upon
the left and fairest part of my favourite otter_skin waistcoat; and
her head as well would have lain there doubtless, but for the danger
of walking so. I, for my part, was too far gone to lag behind in the
matter; but carried my love bravely, fearing neither death nor hell,
while she abode beside me.

Old Sir Ensor looked much astonished. For forty years he had been obeyed
and feared by all around him; and he knew that I had feared him vastly,
before I got hold of Lorna. And indeed I was still afraid of him; only
for loving Lorna so, and having to protect her.

Then I made him a bow, to the very best of all I had learned both at
Tiverton and in London; after that I waited for him to begin, as became
his age and rank in life.

'Ye two fools!' he said at last, with a depth of contempt which no words
may express; 'ye two fools!'

'May it please your worship,' I answered softly; 'maybe we are not such
fools as we look. But though we be, we are well content, so long as we
may be two fools together.'

'Why, John,' said the old man, with a spark, as of smiling in his eyes;
'thou art not altogether the clumsy yokel, and the clod, I took thee
for.'

'Oh, no, grandfather; oh, dear grandfather,' cried Lorna, with such zeal
and flashing, that her hands went forward; 'nobody knows what John Ridd
is, because he is so modest. I mean, nobody except me, dear.' And here
she turned to me again, and rose upon tiptoe, and kissed me.

'I have seen a little o' the world,' said the old man, while I was half
ashamed, although so proud of Lorna; 'but this is beyond all I have
seen, and nearly all I have heard of. It is more fit for southern
climates than for the fogs of Exmoor.'

'It is fit for all the world, your worship; with your honour's good
leave, and will,' I answered in humility, being still ashamed of it;
'when it happens so to people, there is nothing that can stop it, sir.'

Now Sir Ensor Doone was leaning back upon his brown chair_rail, which
was built like a triangle, as in old farmhouses (from one of which it
had come, no doubt, free from expense or gratitude); and as I spoke he
coughed a little; and he sighed a good deal more; and perhaps his dying
heart desired to open time again, with such a lift of warmth and hope as
he descried in our eyes, and arms. I could not understand him then; any
more than a baby playing with his grandfather's spectacles; nevertheless
I wondered whether, at his time of life, or rather on the brink of
death, he was thinking of his youth and pride.

'Fools you are; be fools for ever,' said Sir Ensor Doone, at last; while
we feared to break his thoughts, but let each other know our own, with
little ways of pressure; 'it is the best thing I can wish you; boy and
girl, be boy and girl, until you have grandchildren.'

Partly in bitterness he spoke, and partly in pure weariness, and then
he turned so as not to see us; and his white hair fell, like a shroud,
around him.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 41

COLD COMFORT

All things being full of flaw, all things being full of holes, the
strength of all things is in shortness. If Sir Ensor Doone had dwelled
for half an hour upon himself, and an hour perhaps upon Lorna and me,
we must both have wearied of him, and required change of air. But now
I longed to see and know a great deal more about him, and hoped that he
might not go to Heaven for at least a week or more. However, he was too
good for this world (as we say of all people who leave it); and I verily
believe his heart was not a bad one, after all.

Evil he had done, no doubt, as evil had been done to him; yet how many
have done evil, while receiving only good! Be that as it may; and not
vexing a question (settled for ever without our votes), let us own that
he was, at least, a brave and courteous gentleman.

And his loss aroused great lamentation, not among the Doones alone, and
the women they had carried off, but also of the general public, and many
even of the magistrates, for several miles round Exmoor. And this,
not only from fear lest one more wicked might succeed him (as appeared
indeed too probable), but from true admiration of his strong will, and
sympathy with his misfortunes.

I will not deceive any one, by saying that Sir Ensor Doone gave (in so
many words) his consent to my resolve about Lorna. This he never did,
except by his speech last written down; from which as he mentioned
grandchildren, a lawyer perhaps might have argued it. Not but what he
may have meant to bestow on us his blessing; only that he died next day,
without taking the trouble to do it.

He called indeed for his box of snuff, which was a very high thing to
take; and which he never took without being in very good humour, at
least for him. And though it would not go up his nostrils, through the
failure of his breath, he was pleased to have it there, and not to think
of dying.

'Will your honour have it wiped?' I asked him very softly, for the
brown appearance of it spoiled (to my idea) his white mostacchio; but
he seemed to shake his head; and I thought it kept his spirits up. I had
never before seen any one do, what all of us have to do some day; and it
greatly kept my spirits down, although it did not so very much frighten
me.

For it takes a man but a little while, his instinct being of death
perhaps, at least as much as of life (which accounts for his slaying his
fellow men so, and every other creature), it does not take a man very
long to enter into another man's death, and bring his own mood to suit
it. He knows that his own is sure to come; and nature is fond of the
practice. Hence it came to pass that I, after easing my mother's fears,
and seeing a little to business, returned (as if drawn by a polar
needle) to the death_bed of Sir Ensor.

There was some little confusion, people wanting to get away, and people
trying to come in, from downright curiosity (of all things the most
hateful), and others making great to_do, and talking of their own time
to come, telling their own age, and so on. But every one seemed to
think, or feel, that I had a right to be there; because the women took
that view of it. As for Carver and Counsellor, they were minding their
own affairs, so as to win the succession; and never found it in their
business (at least so long as I was there) to come near the dying man.

He, for his part, never asked for any one to come near him, not even
a priest, nor a monk or friar; but seemed to be going his own way,
peaceful, and well contented. Only the chief of the women said that from
his face she believed and knew that he liked to have me at one side of
his bed, and Lorna upon the other. An hour or two ere the old man died,
when only we two were with him, he looked at us both very dimly and
softly, as if he wished to do something for us, but had left it now too
late. Lorna hoped that he wanted to bless us; but he only frowned at
that, and let his hand drop downward, and crooked one knotted finger.

'He wants something out of the bed, dear,' Lorna whispered to me; 'see
what it is, upon your side, there.'

I followed the bent of his poor shrunken hand, and sought among the
pilings; and there I felt something hard and sharp, and drew it forth
and gave it to him. It flashed, like the spray of a fountain upon us, in
the dark winter of the room. He could not take it in his hand, but let
it hang, as daisies do; only making Lorna see that he meant her to have
it.

'Why, it is my glass necklace!' Lorna cried, in great surprise; 'my
necklace he always promised me; and from which you have got the ring,
John. But grandfather kept it, because the children wanted to pull it
from my neck. May I have it now, dear grandfather? Not unless you wish,
dear.'

Darling Lorna wept again, because the old man could not tell her (except
by one very feeble nod) that she was doing what he wished. Then she gave
to me the trinket, for the sake of safety; and I stowed it in my breast.
He seemed to me to follow this, and to be well content with it.

Before Sir Ensor Doone was buried, the greatest frost of the century
had set in, with its iron hand, and step of stone, on everything. How
it came is not my business, nor can I explain it; because I never have
watched the skies; as people now begin to do, when the ground is not to
their liking. Though of all this I know nothing, and less than nothing I
may say (because I ought to know something); I can hear what people tell
me; and I can see before my eyes.

The strong men broke three good pickaxes, ere they got through the hard
brown sod, streaked with little maps of gray where old Sir Ensor was to
lie, upon his back, awaiting the darkness of the Judgment_day. It was in
the little chapel_yard; I will not tell the name of it; because we are
now such Protestants, that I might do it an evil turn; only it was the
little place where Lorna's Aunt Sabina lay.

Here was I, remaining long, with a little curiosity; because some people
told me plainly that I must be damned for ever by a Papist funeral; and
here came Lorna, scarcely breathing through the thick of stuff around
her, yet with all her little breath steaming on the air, like frost.

I stood apart from the ceremony, in which of course I was not entitled,
either by birth or religion, to bear any portion; and indeed it would
have been wiser in me to have kept away altogether; for now there was no
one to protect me among those wild and lawless men; and both Carver
and the Counsellor had vowed a fearful vengeance on me, as I heard from
Gwenny. They had not dared to meddle with me while the chief lay dying;
nor was it in their policy, for a short time after that, to endanger
their succession by an open breach with Lorna, whose tender age and
beauty held so many of the youths in thrall.

The ancient outlaw's funeral was a grand and moving sight; more perhaps
from the sense of contrast than from that of fitness. To see those dark
and mighty men, inured to all of sin and crime, reckless both of man and
God, yet now with heads devoutly bent, clasped hands, and downcast eyes,
following the long black coffin of their common ancestor, to the place
where they must join him when their sum of ill was done; and to see the
feeble priest chanting, over the dead form, words the living would
have laughed at, sprinkling with his little broom drops that could not
purify; while the children, robed in white, swung their smoking censers
slowly over the cold and twilight grave; and after seeing all, to ask,
with a shudder unexpressed, 'Is this the end that God intended for a man
so proud and strong?'

Not a tear was shed upon him, except from the sweetest of all sweet
eyes; not a sigh pursued him home. Except in hot anger, his life had
been cold, and bitter, and distant; and now a week had exhausted all
the sorrow of those around him, a grief flowing less from affection than
fear. Aged men will show his tombstone; mothers haste with their infants
by it; children shrink from the name upon it, until in time his history
shall lapse and be forgotten by all except the great Judge and God.

After all was over, I strode across the moors very sadly; trying to
keep the cold away by virtue of quick movement. Not a flake of snow had
fallen yet; all the earth was caked and hard, with a dry brown crust
upon it; all the sky was banked with darkness, hard, austere, and
frowning. The fog of the last three weeks was gone, neither did any
rime remain; but all things had a look of sameness, and a kind of furzy
colour. It was freezing hard and sharp, with a piercing wind to back it;
and I had observed that the holy water froze upon Sir Ensor's coffin.

One thing struck me with some surprise, as I made off for our fireside
(with a strong determination to heave an ash_tree up the chimney_place),
and that was how the birds were going, rather than flying as they used
to fly. All the birds were set in one direction, steadily journeying
westward, not with any heat of speed, neither flying far at once; but
all (as if on business bound), partly running, partly flying, partly
fluttering along; silently, and without a voice, neither pricking head
nor tail. This movement of the birds went on, even for a week or more;
every kind of thrushes passed us, every kind of wild fowl, even plovers
went away, and crows, and snipes and wood_cocks. And before half the
frost was over, all we had in the snowy ditches were hares so tame that
we could pat them; partridges that came to hand, with a dry noise in
their crops; heath_poults, making cups of snow; and a few poor hopping
redwings, flipping in and out the hedge, having lost the power to fly.
And all the time their great black eyes, set with gold around them,
seemed to look at any man, for mercy and for comfort.

Annie took a many of them, all that she could find herself, and all the
boys would bring her; and she made a great hutch near the fire, in the
back_kitchen chimney_place. Here, in spite of our old Betty (who sadly
wanted to roast them), Annie kept some fifty birds, with bread and milk,
and raw chopped meat, and all the seed she could think of, and lumps of
rotten apples, placed to tempt them, in the corners. Some got on, and
some died off; and Annie cried for all that died, and buried them under
the woodrick; but, I do assure you, it was a pretty thing to see, when
she went to them in the morning. There was not a bird but knew her well,
after one day of comforting; and some would come to her hand, and sit,
and shut one eye, and look at her. Then she used to stroke their heads,
and feel their breasts, and talk to them; and not a bird of them all was
there but liked to have it done to him. And I do believe they would eat
from her hand things unnatural to them, lest she should he grieved and
hurt by not knowing what to do for them. One of them was a noble bird,
such as I never had seen before, of very fine bright plumage, and larger
than a missel_thrush. He was the hardest of all to please: and yet he
tried to do his best. I have heard since then, from a man who knows all
about birds, and beasts, and fishes, that he must have been a Norwegian
bird, called in this country a Roller, who never comes to England but in
the most tremendous winters.

Another little bird there was, whom I longed to welcome home, and
protect from enemies, a little bird no native to us, but than any
native dearer. But lo, in the very night which followed old Sir Ensor's
funeral, such a storm of snow began as never have I heard nor read of,
neither could have dreamed it. At what time of night it first began is
more than I can say, at least from my own knowledge, for we all went to
bed soon after supper, being cold and not inclined to talk. At that time
the wind was moaning sadly, and the sky as dark as a wood, and the straw
in the yard swirling round and round, and the cows huddling into the
great cowhouse, with their chins upon one another. But we, being blinder
than they, I suppose, and not having had a great snow for years, made
no preparation against the storm, except that the lambing ewes were in
shelter.

It struck me, as I lay in bed, that we were acting foolishly; for an
ancient shepherd had dropped in and taken supper with us, and foretold a
heavy fall and great disaster to live stock. He said that he had known
a frost beginning, just as this had done, with a black east wind, after
days of raw cold fog, and then on the third night of the frost, at this
very time of year (to wit on the 15th of December) such a snow set in
as killed half of the sheep and many even of the red deer and the forest
ponies. It was three_score years agone,* he said; and cause he had to
remember it, inasmuch as two of his toes had been lost by frost_nip,
while he dug out his sheep on the other side of the Dunkery. Hereupon
mother nodded at him, having heard from her father about it, and how
three men had been frozen to death, and how badly their stockings came
off from them.

     * The frost of 1625.

Remembering how the old man looked, and his manner of listening to the
wind and shaking his head very ominously (when Annie gave him a glass
of schnapps), I grew quite uneasy in my bed, as the room got colder and
colder; and I made up my mind, if it only pleased God not to send the
snow till the morning, that every sheep, and horse, and cow, ay, and
even the poultry, should be brought in snug, and with plenty to eat, and
fodder enough to roast them.

Alas what use of man's resolves, when they come a day too late; even if
they may avail a little, when they are most punctual!

In the bitter morning I arose, to follow out my purpose, knowing the
time from the force of habit, although the room was so dark and gray.
An odd white light was on the rafters, such as I never had seen before;
while all the length of the room was grisly, like the heart of a mouldy
oat_rick. I went to the window at once, of course; and at first I could
not understand what was doing outside of it. It faced due east (as I may
have said), with the walnut_tree partly sheltering it; and generally I
could see the yard, and the woodrick, and even the church beyond.

But now, half the lattice was quite blocked up, as if plastered with
gray lime; and little fringes, like ferns, came through, where the
joining of the lead was; and in the only undarkened part, countless dots
came swarming, clustering, beating with a soft, low sound, then gliding
down in a slippery manner, not as drops of rain do, but each distinct
from his neighbour. Inside the iron frame (which fitted, not to say too
comfortably, and went along the stonework), at least a peck of snow had
entered, following its own bend and fancy; light as any cobweb.

With some trouble, and great care, lest the ancient frame should yield,
I spread the lattice open; and saw at once that not a moment must be
lost, to save our stock. All the earth was flat with snow, all the air
was thick with snow; more than this no man could see, for all the world
was snowing.

I shut the window and dressed in haste; and when I entered the kitchen,
not even Betty, the earliest of all early birds, was there. I raked the
ashes together a little, just to see a spark of warmth; and then set
forth to find John Fry, Jem Slocombe, and Bill Dadds. But this was
easier thought than done; for when I opened the courtyard door, I
was taken up to my knees at once, and the power of the drifting cloud
prevented sight of anything. However, I found my way to the woodrick,
and there got hold of a fine ash_stake, cut by myself not long ago. With
this I ploughed along pretty well, and thundered so hard at John
Fry's door, that he thought it was the Doones at least, and cocked his
blunderbuss out of the window.

John was very loth to come down, when he saw the meaning of it; for he
valued his life more than anything else; though he tried to make out
that his wife was to blame. But I settled his doubts by telling him,
that I would have him on my shoulder naked, unless he came in five
minutes; not that he could do much good, but because the other men would
be sure to skulk, if he set them the example. With spades, and shovels,
and pitch_forks, and a round of roping, we four set forth to dig out the
sheep; and the poor things knew that it was high time.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 42

THE GREAT WINTER

It must have snowed most wonderfully to have made that depth of covering
in about eight hours. For one of Master Stickles' men, who had been out
all the night, said that no snow began to fall until nearly midnight.
And here it was, blocking up the doors, stopping the ways, and the water
courses, and making it very much worse to walk than in a saw_pit newly
used. However, we trudged along in a line; I first, and the other men
after me; trying to keep my track, but finding legs and strength not
up to it. Most of all, John Fry was groaning; certain that his time was
come, and sending messages to his wife, and blessings to his children.
For all this time it was snowing harder than it ever had snowed before,
so far as a man might guess at it; and the leaden depth of the sky came
down, like a mine turned upside down on us. Not that the flakes were
so very large; for I have seen much larger flakes in a shower of March,
while sowing peas; but that there was no room between them, neither any
relaxing, nor any change of direction.

Watch, like a good and faithful dog, followed us very cheerfully,
leaping out of the depth, which took him over his back and ears already,
even in the level places; while in the drifts he might have sunk to any
distance out of sight, and never found his way up again. However, we
helped him now and then, especially through the gaps and gateways; and
so after a deal of floundering, some laughter, and a little swearing, we
came all safe to the lower meadow, where most of our flock was hurdled.

But behold, there was no flock at all! None, I mean, to be seen
anywhere; only at one corner of the field, by the eastern end, where the
snow drove in, a great white billow, as high as a barn, and as broad as
a house. This great drift was rolling and curling beneath the violent
blast, tufting and combing with rustling swirls, and carved (as in
patterns of cornice) where the grooving chisel of the wind swept round.
Ever and again the tempest snatched little whiffs from the channelled
edges, twirled them round and made them dance over the chime of the
monster pile, then let them lie like herring_bones, or the seams of sand
where the tide has been. And all the while from the smothering sky, more
and more fiercely at every blast, came the pelting, pitiless arrows,
winged with murky white, and pointed with the barbs of frost.

But although for people who had no sheep, the sight was a very fine one
(so far at least as the weather permitted any sight at all); yet for us,
with our flock beneath it, this great mount had but little charm. Watch
began to scratch at once, and to howl along the sides of it; he knew
that his charge was buried there, and his business taken from him. But
we four men set to in earnest, digging with all our might and main,
shovelling away at the great white pile, and fetching it into the
meadow. Each man made for himself a cave, scooping at the soft, cold
flux, which slid upon him at every stroke, and throwing it out behind
him, in piles of castled fancy. At last we drove our tunnels in (for
we worked indeed for the lives of us), and all converging towards the
middle, held our tools and listened.

The other men heard nothing at all; or declared that they heard nothing,
being anxious now to abandon the matter, because of the chill in their
feet and knees. But I said, 'Go, if you choose all of you. I will work
it out by myself, you pie_crusts,' and upon that they gripped their
shovels, being more or less of Englishmen; and the least drop of English
blood is worth the best of any other when it comes to lasting out.

But before we began again, I laid my head well into the chamber; and
there I hears a faint 'ma_a_ah,' coming through some ells of snow, like
a plaintive, buried hope, or a last appeal. I shouted aloud to cheer him
up, for I knew what sheep it was, to wit, the most valiant of all the
wethers, who had met me when I came home from London, and been so glad
to see me. And then we all fell to again; and very soon we hauled
him out. Watch took charge of him at once, with an air of the noblest
patronage, lying on his frozen fleece, and licking all his face and
feet, to restore his warmth to him. Then fighting Tom jumped up at once,
and made a little butt at Watch, as if nothing had ever ailed him, and
then set off to a shallow place, and looked for something to nibble at.

Further in, and close under the bank, where they had huddled themselves
for warmth, we found all the rest of the poor sheep packed, as closely
as if they were in a great pie. It was strange to observe how their
vapour and breath, and the moisture exuding from their wool had scooped,
as it were, a coved room for them, lined with a ribbing of deep yellow
snow. Also the churned snow beneath their feet was as yellow as gamboge.
Two or three of the weaklier hoggets were dead, from want of air, and
from pressure; but more than three_score were as lively as ever; though
cramped and stiff for a little while.

'However shall us get 'em home?' John Fry asked in great dismay, when
we had cleared about a dozen of them; which we were forced to do very
carefully, so as not to fetch the roof down. 'No manner of maning to
draive 'un, drough all they girt driftnesses.'

'You see to this place, John,' I replied, as we leaned on our shovels
a moment, and the sheep came rubbing round us; 'let no more of them out
for the present; they are better where they be. Watch, here boy, keep
them!'

Watch came, with his little scut of a tail cocked as sharp as duty, and
I set him at the narrow mouth of the great snow antre. All the sheep
sidled away, and got closer, that the other sheep might be bitten first,
as the foolish things imagine; whereas no good sheep_dog even so much as
lips a sheep to turn it.

Then of the outer sheep (all now snowed and frizzled like a lawyer's
wig) I took the two finest and heaviest, and with one beneath my right
arm, and the other beneath my left, I went straight home to the upper
sheppey, and set them inside and fastened them. Sixty and six I took
home in that way, two at a time on each joumey; and the work grew harder
and harder each time, as the drifts of the snow were deepening. No other
man should meddle with them; I was resolved to try my strength against
the strength of the elements; and try it I did, ay, and proved it. A
certain fierce delight burned in me, as the struggle grew harder; but
rather would I die than yield; and at last I finished it. People talk of
it to this day; but none can tell what the labour was, who have not felt
that snow and wind.

Of the sheep upon the mountain, and the sheep upon the western farm, and
the cattle on the upper barrows, scarcely one in ten was saved; do what
we would for them, and this was not through any neglect (now that our
wits were sharpened), but from the pure impossibility of finding them
at all. That great snow never ceased a moment for three days and nights;
and then when all the earth was filled, and the topmost hedges were
unseen, and the trees broke down with weight (wherever the wind had not
lightened them), a brilliant sun broke forth and showed the loss of all
our customs.

All our house was quite snowed up, except where we had purged a way, by
dint of constant shovellings. The kitchen was as dark and darker than
the cider_cellar, and long lines of furrowed scollops ran even up to the
chimney_stacks. Several windows fell right inwards, through the weight
of the snow against them; and the few that stood, bulged in, and bent
like an old bruised lanthorn. We were obliged to cook by candle_light;
we were forced to read by candle_light; as for baking, we could not do
it, because the oven was too chill; and a load of faggots only brought a
little wet down the sides of it.

For when the sun burst forth at last upon that world of white, what he
brought was neither warmth, nor cheer, nor hope of softening; only a
clearer shaft of cold, from the violet depths of sky. Long_drawn alleys
of white haze seemed to lead towards him, yet such as he could not come
down, with any warmth remaining. Broad white curtains of the frost_fog
looped around the lower sky, on the verge of hill and valley, and above
the laden trees. Only round the sun himself, and the spot of heaven he
claimed, clustered a bright purple_blue, clear, and calm, and deep.

That night such a frost ensued as we had never dreamed of, neither read
in ancient books, or histories of Frobisher. The kettle by the fire
froze, and the crock upon the hearth_cheeks; many men were killed, and
cattle rigid in their head_ropes. Then I heard that fearful sound, which
never I had heard before, neither since have heard (except during that
same winter), the sharp yet solemn sound of trees burst open by the
frost_blow. Our great walnut lost three branches, and has been dying
ever since; though growing meanwhile, as the soul does. And the ancient
oak at the cross was rent, and many score of ash trees. But why should
I tell all this? the people who have not seen it (as I have) will only
make faces, and disbelieve; till such another frost comes; which perhaps
may never be.

This terrible weather kept Tom Faggus from coming near our house for
weeks; at which indeed I was not vexed a quarter so much as Annie was;
for I had never half approved of him, as a husband for my sister; in
spite of his purchase from Squire Bassett, and the grant of the Royal
pardon. It may be, however, that Annie took the same view of my love for
Lorna, and could not augur well of it; but if so, she held her peace,
though I was not so sparing. For many things contributed to make me less
good_humoured now than my real nature was; and the very least of all
these things would have been enough to make some people cross, and rude,
and fractious. I mean the red and painful chapping of my face and hands,
from working in the snow all day, and lying in the frost all night. For
being of a fair complexion, and a ruddy nature, and pretty plump withal,
and fed on plenty of hot victuals, and always forced by my mother to sit
nearer the fire than I wished, it was wonderful to see how the cold ran
revel on my cheeks and knuckles. And I feared that Lorna (if it should
ever please God to stop the snowing) might take this for a proof of low
and rustic blood and breeding.

And this I say was the smallest thing; for it was far more serious that
we were losing half our stock, do all we would to shelter them. Even the
horses in the stables (mustered all together for the sake of breath and
steaming) had long icicles from their muzzles, almost every morning.
But of all things the very gravest, to my apprehension, was the
impossibility of hearing, or having any token of or from my loved one.
Not that those three days alone of snow (tremendous as it was) could
have blocked the country so; but that the sky had never ceased, for more
than two days at a time, for full three weeks thereafter, to pour fresh
piles of fleecy mantle; neither had the wind relaxed a single day from
shaking them. As a rule, it snowed all day, cleared up at night, and
froze intensely, with the stars as bright as jewels, earth spread out in
lustrous twilight, and the sounds in the air as sharp and crackling as
artillery; then in the morning, snow again; before the sun could come to
help.

It mattered not what way the wind was. Often and often the vanes went
round, and we hoped for change of weather; the only change was that it
seemed (if possible) to grow colder. Indeed, after a week or so, the
wind would regularly box the compass (as the sailors call it) in the
course of every day, following where the sun should be, as if to make
a mock of him. And this of course immensely added to the peril of the
drifts; because they shifted every day; and no skill or care might learn
them.

I believe it was on Epiphany morning, or somewhere about that period,
when Lizzie ran into the kitchen to me, where I was thawing my
goose_grease, with the dogs among the ashes__the live dogs, I mean, not
the iron ones, for them we had given up long ago,__and having caught
me, by way of wonder (for generally I was out shoveling long before my
'young lady' had her nightcap off), she positively kissed me, for the
sake of warming her lips perhaps, or because she had something proud to
say.

'You great fool, John,' said my lady, as Annie and I used to call her,
on account of her airs and graces; 'what a pity you never read, John!'

'Much use, I should think, in reading!' I answered, though pleased with
her condescension; 'read, I suppose, with roof coming in, and only this
chimney left sticking out of the snow!'

'The very time to read, John,' said Lizzie, looking grander; 'our worst
troubles are the need, whence knowledge can deliver us.'

'Amen,' I cried out; 'are you parson or clerk? Whichever you are,
good_morning.'

Thereupon I was bent on my usual round (a very small one nowadays), but
Eliza took me with both hands, and I stopped of course; for I could not
bear to shake the child, even in play, for a moment, because her back
was tender. Then she looked up at me with her beautiful eyes, so large,
unhealthy and delicate, and strangely shadowing outward, as if to spread
their meaning; and she said,__

'Now, John, this is no time to joke. I was almost frozen in bed last
night; and Annie like an icicle. Feel how cold my hands are. Now, will
you listen to what I have read about climates ten times worse than this;
and where none but clever men can live?'

'Impossible for me to listen now, I have hundreds of things to see to;
but I will listen after breakfast to your foreign climates, child. Now
attend to mother's hot coffee.'

She looked a little disappointed, but she knew what I had to do; and
after all she was not so utterly unreasonable; although she did
read books. And when I had done my morning's work, I listened to her
patiently; and it was out of my power to think that all she said was
foolish.

For I knew common sense pretty well, by this time, whether it happened
to be my own, or any other person's, if clearly laid before me. And
Lizzie had a particular way of setting forth very clearly whatever she
wished to express and enforce. But the queerest part of it all was this,
that if she could but have dreamed for a moment what would be the first
application made me by of her lesson, she would rather have bitten her
tongue off than help me to my purpose.

She told me that in the Arctic Regions, as they call some places, a long
way north, where the Great Bear lies all across the heavens, and no
sun is up, for whole months at a time, and yet where people will go
exploring, out of pure contradiction, and for the sake of novelty, and
love of being frozen__that here they always had such winters as we were
having now. It never ceased to freeze, she said; and it never ceased to
snow; except when it was too cold; and then all the air was choked with
glittering spikes; and a man's skin might come off of him, before he
could ask the reason. Nevertheless the people there (although the snow
was fifty feet deep, and all their breath fell behind them frozen, like
a log of wood dropped from their shoulders), yet they managed to
get along, and make the time of the year to each other, by a little
cleverness. For seeing how the snow was spread, lightly over everything,
covering up the hills and valleys, and the foreskin of the sea, they
contrived a way to crown it, and to glide like a flake along. Through
the sparkle of the whiteness, and the wreaths of windy tossings, and
the ups and downs of cold, any man might get along with a boat on either
foot, to prevent his sinking.

She told me how these boats were made; very strong and very light,
of ribs with skin across them; five feet long, and one foot wide; and
turned up at each end, even as a canoe is. But she did not tell me, nor
did I give it a moment's thought myself, how hard it was to walk upon
them without early practice. Then she told me another thing equally
useful to me; although I would not let her see how much I thought about
it. And this concerned the use of sledges, and their power of gliding,
and the lightness of their following; all of which I could see at once,
through knowledge of our own farm_sleds; which we employ in lieu of
wheels, used in flatter districts. When I had heard all this from her, a
mere chit of a girl as she was, unfit to make a snowball even, or to fry
snow pancakes, I looked down on her with amazement, and began to wish a
little that I had given more time to books.

But God shapes all our fitness, and gives each man his meaning, even as
he guides the wavering lines of snow descending. Our Eliza was meant for
books; our dear Annie for loving and cooking; I, John Ridd, for sheep,
and wrestling, and the thought of Lorna; and mother to love all three
of us, and to make the best of her children. And now, if I must tell
the truth, as at every page I try to do (though God knows it is hard
enough), I had felt through all this weather, though my life was
Lorna's, something of a satisfaction in so doing duty to my kindest and
best of mothers, and to none but her. For (if you come to think of it)
a man's young love is very pleasant, very sweet, and tickling; and takes
him through the core of heart; without his knowing how or why. Then he
dwells upon it sideways, without people looking, and builds up all sorts
of fancies, growing hot with working so at his own imaginings. So his
love is a crystal Goddess, set upon an obelisk; and whoever will not bow
the knee (yet without glancing at her), the lover makes it a sacred rite
either to kick or to stick him. I am not speaking of me and Lorna, but
of common people.

Then (if you come to think again) lo!__or I will not say lo! for no one
can behold it__only feel, or but remember, what a real mother is. Ever
loving, ever soft, ever turning sin to goodness, vices into virtues;
blind to all nine_tenths of wrong; through a telescope beholding (though
herself so nigh to them) faintest decimal of promise, even in her vilest
child. Ready to thank God again, as when her babe was born to her;
leaping (as at kingdom_come) at a wandering syllable of Gospel for her
lost one.

All this our mother was to us, and even more than all of this; and hence
I felt a pride and joy in doing my sacred duty towards her, now that the
weather compelled me. And she was as grateful and delighted as if she
had no more claim upon me than a stranger's sheep might have. Yet from
time to time I groaned within myself and by myself, at thinking of
my sad debarment from the sight of Lorna, and of all that might have
happened to her, now she had no protection.

Therefore, I fell to at once, upon that hint from Lizzie, and being used
to thatching_work, and the making of traps, and so on, before very long
I built myself a pair of strong and light snow_shoes, framed with ash
and ribbed of withy, with half_tanned calf_skin stretched across, and
an inner sole to support my feet. At first I could not walk at all, but
floundered about most piteously, catching one shoe in the other, and
both of them in the snow_drifts, to the great amusement of the girls,
who were come to look at me. But after a while I grew more expert,
discovering what my errors were, and altering the inclination of the
shoes themselves, according to a print which Lizzie found in a book of
adventures. And this made such a difference, that I crossed the farmyard
and came back again (though turning was the worst thing of all) without
so much as falling once, or getting my staff entangled.

But oh, the aching of my ankles, when I went to bed that night; I was
forced to help myself upstairs with a couple of mopsticks! and I rubbed
the joints with neatsfoot oil, which comforted them greatly. And likely
enough I would have abandoned any further trial, but for Lizzie's
ridicule, and pretended sympathy; asking if the strong John Ridd would
have old Betty to lean upon. Therefore I set to again, with a fixed
resolve not to notice pain or stiffness, but to warm them out of me.
And sure enough, before dark that day, I could get along pretty freely;
especially improving every time, after leaving off and resting. The
astonishment of poor John Fry, Bill Dadds, and Jem Slocombe, when they
saw me coming down the hill upon them, in the twilight, where they were
clearing the furze rick and trussing it for cattle, was more than I
can tell you; because they did not let me see it, but ran away with one
accord, and floundered into a snowdrift. They believed, and so did every
one else (especially when I grew able to glide along pretty rapidly),
that I had stolen Mother Melldrum's sieves, on which she was said to fly
over the foreland at midnight every Saturday.

Upon the following day, I held some council with my mother; not liking
to go without her permission, yet scarcely daring to ask for it. But
here she disappointed me, on the right side of disappointment; saying
that she had seen my pining (which she never could have done; because
I had been too hard at work), and rather than watch me grieving so,
for somebody or other, who now was all in all to me, I might go upon my
course, and God's protection go with me! At this I was amazed, because
it was not at all like mother; and knowing how well I had behaved, ever
since the time of our snowing up, I was a little moved to tell her that
she could not understand me. However my sense of duty kept me, and my
knowledge of the catechism, from saying such a thing as that, or even
thinking twice of it. And so I took her at her word, which she was
not prepared for; and telling her how proud I was of her trust in
Providence, and how I could run in my new snow_shoes, I took a short
pipe in my mouth, and started forth accordingly.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 43

NOT TOO SOON

When I started on my road across the hills and valleys (which now were
pretty much alike), the utmost I could hope to do was to gain the crest
of hills, and look into the Doone Glen. Hence I might at least descry
whether Lorna still was safe, by the six nests still remaining, and the
view of the Captain's house. When I was come to the open country, far
beyond the sheltered homestead, and in the full brunt of the wind, the
keen blast of the cold broke on me, and the mighty breadth of snow. Moor
and highland, field and common, cliff and vale, and watercourse, over
all the rolling folds of misty white were flung. There was nothing
square or jagged left, there was nothing perpendicular; all the rugged
lines were eased, and all the breaches smoothly filled. Curves, and
mounds, and rounded heavings, took the place of rock and stump; and all
the country looked as if a woman's hand had been on it.

Through the sparkling breadth of white, which seemed to glance my eyes
away, and outside the humps of laden trees, bowing their backs like a
woodman, I contrived to get along, half_sliding and half_walking, in
places where a plain_shodden man must have sunk, and waited freezing
till the thaw should come to him. For although there had been such
violent frost, every night, upon the snow, the snow itself, having never
thawed, even for an hour, had never coated over. Hence it was as soft
and light as if all had fallen yesterday. In places where no drift had
been, but rather off than on to them, three feet was the least of
depth; but where the wind had chased it round, or any draught led like a
funnel, or anything opposed it; there you might very safely say that
it ran up to twenty feet, or thirty, or even fifty, and I believe some
times a hundred.

At last I got to my spy_hill (as I had begun to call it), although I
never should have known it but for what it looked on. And even to
know this last again required all the eyes of love, soever sharp
and vigilant. For all the beautiful Glen Doone (shaped from out
the mountains, as if on purpose for the Doones, and looking in the
summer_time like a sharp cut vase of green) now was besnowed half up
the sides, and at either end so, that it was more like the white basins
wherein we boil plum_puddings. Not a patch of grass was there, not
a black branch of a tree; all was white; and the little river flowed
beneath an arch of snow; if it managed to flow at all.

Now this was a great surprise to me; not only because I believed Glen
Doone to be a place outside all frost, but also because I thought
perhaps that it was quite impossible to be cold near Lorna. And now it
struck me all at once that perhaps her ewer was frozen (as mine had been
for the last three weeks, requiring embers around it), and perhaps her
window would not shut, any more than mine would; and perhaps she wanted
blankets. This idea worked me up to such a chill of sympathy, that
seeing no Doones now about, and doubting if any guns would go off, in
this state of the weather, and knowing that no man could catch me up
(except with shoes like mine), I even resolved to slide the cliffs, and
bravely go to Lorna.

It helped me much in this resolve, that the snow came on again, thick
enough to blind a man who had not spent his time among it, as I had done
now for days and days. Therefore I took my neatsfoot oil, which now was
clogged like honey, and rubbed it hard into my leg_joints, so far as
I could reach them. And then I set my back and elbows well against a
snowdrift, hanging far adown the cliff, and saying some of the Lord's
Prayer, threw myself on Providence. Before there was time to think or
dream, I landed very beautifully upon a ridge of run_up snow in a quiet
corner. My good shoes, or boots, preserved me from going far beneath it;
though one of them was sadly strained, where a grub had gnawed the ash,
in the early summer_time. Having set myself aright, and being in good
spirits, I made boldly across the valley (where the snow was furrowed
hard), being now afraid of nobody.

If Lorna had looked out of the window she would not have known me, with
those boots upon my feet, and a well_cleaned sheepskin over me, bearing
my own (J.R.) in red, just between my shoulders, but covered now in
snow_flakes. The house was partly drifted up, though not so much as ours
was; and I crossed the little stream almost without knowing that it was
under me. At first, being pretty safe from interference from the other
huts, by virtue of the blinding snow and the difficulty of walking, I
examined all the windows; but these were coated so with ice, like ferns
and flowers and dazzling stars, that no one could so much as guess what
might be inside of them. Moreover I was afraid of prying narrowly into
them, as it was not a proper thing where a maiden might be; only I
wanted to know just this, whether she were there or not.

Taking nothing by this movement, I was forced, much against my will, to
venture to the door and knock, in a hesitating manner, not being sure
but what my answer might be the mouth of a carbine. However it was not
so, for I heard a pattering of feet and a whispering going on, and then
a shrill voice through the keyhole, asking, 'Who's there?'

'Only me, John Ridd,' I answered; upon which I heard a little laughter,
and a little sobbing, or something that was like it; and then the door
was opened about a couple of inches, with a bar behind it still; and
then the little voice went on,__

'Put thy finger in, young man, with the old ring on it. But mind thee,
if it be the wrong one, thou shalt never draw it back again.'

Laughing at Gwenny's mighty threat, I showed my finger in the opening;
upon which she let me in, and barred the door again like lightning.

'What is the meaning of all this, Gwenny?' I asked, as I slipped
about on the floor, for I could not stand there firmly with my great
snow_shoes on.

'Maning enough, and bad maning too,' the Cornish girl made answer. Us be
shut in here, and starving, and durstn't let anybody in upon us. I wish
thou wer't good to ate, young man: I could manage most of thee.'

I was so frightened by her eyes, full of wolfish hunger, that I could
only say 'Good God!' having never seen the like before. Then drew I
forth a large piece of bread, which I had brought in case of accidents,
and placed it in her hands. She leaped at it, as a starving dog leaps at
sight of his supper, and she set her teeth in it, and then withheld
it from her lips, with something very like an oath at her own vile
greediness; and then away round the corner with it, no doubt for her
young mistress. I meanwhile was occupied, to the best of my ability, in
taking my snow_shoes off, yet wondering much within myself why Lorna did
not come to me.

But presently I knew the cause, for Gwenny called me, and I ran, and
found my darling quite unable to say so much as, 'John, how are you?'
Between the hunger and the cold, and the excitement of my coming, she
had fainted away, and lay back on a chair, as white as the snow around
us. In betwixt her delicate lips, Gwenny was thrusting with all her
strength the hard brown crust of the rye_bread, which she had snatched
from me so.

'Get water, or get snow,' I said; 'don't you know what fainting is, you
very stupid child?'

'Never heerd on it, in Cornwall,' she answered, trusting still to the
bread; 'be un the same as bleeding?'

'It will be directly, if you go on squeezing away with that crust so.
Eat a piece: I have got some more. Leave my darling now to me.'

Hearing that I had some more, the starving girl could resist no longer,
but tore it in two, and had swallowed half before I had coaxed my Lorna
back to sense, and hope, and joy, and love.

'I never expected to see you again. I had made up my mind to die, John;
and to die without your knowing it.'

As I repelled this fearful thought in a manner highly fortifying, the
tender hue flowed back again into her famished cheeks and lips, and a
softer brilliance glistened from the depth of her dark eyes. She gave me
one little shrunken hand, and I could not help a tear for it.

'After all, Mistress Lorna,' I said, pretending to be gay, for a smile
might do her good; 'you do not love me as Gwenny does; for she even
wanted to eat me.'

'And shall, afore I have done, young man,' Gwenny answered laughing;
'you come in here with they red chakes, and make us think o' sirloin.'

'Eat up your bit of brown bread, Gwenny. It is not good enough for
your mistress. Bless her heart, I have something here such as she never
tasted the like of, being in such appetite. Look here, Lorna; smell it
first. I have had it ever since Twelfth Day, and kept it all the time
for you. Annie made it. That is enough to warrant it good cooking.'

And then I showed my great mince_pie in a bag of tissue paper, and I
told them how the mince_meat was made of golden pippins finely shred,
with the undercut of the sirloin, and spice and fruit accordingly and
far beyond my knowledge. But Lorna would not touch a morsel until she
had thanked God for it, and given me the kindest kiss, and put a piece
in Gwenny's mouth.

I have eaten many things myself, with very great enjoyment, and keen
perception of their merits, and some thanks to God for them. But I never
did enjoy a thing, that had found its way between my own lips, half, or
even a quarter as much as I now enjoyed beholding Lorna, sitting
proudly upwards (to show that she was faint no more) entering into
that mince_pie, and moving all her pearls of teeth (inside her little
mouth_place) exactly as I told her. For I was afraid lest she should be
too fast in going through it, and cause herself more damage so, than she
got of nourishment. But I had no need to fear at all, and Lorna could
not help laughing at me for thinking that she had no self_control.

Some creatures require a deal of food (I myself among the number), and
some can do with a very little; making, no doubt, the best of it. And I
have often noticed that the plumpest and most perfect women never eat so
hard and fast as the skinny and three_cornered ones. These last be often
ashamed of it, and eat most when the men be absent. Hence it came to
pass that Lorna, being the loveliest of all maidens, had as much as she
could do to finish her own half of pie; whereas Gwenny Carfax (though
generous more than greedy), ate up hers without winking, after finishing
the brown loaf; and then I begged to know the meaning of this state of
things.

'The meaning is sad enough,' said Lorna; 'and I see no way out of it. We
are both to be starved until I let them do what they like with me.

'That is to say until you choose to marry Carver Doone, and be slowly
killed by him?'

'Slowly! No, John, quickly. I hate him so intensely, that less than a
week would kill me.'

'Not a doubt of that,' said Gwenny; 'oh, she hates him nicely then; but
not half so much as I do.'

I told them that this state of things could be endured no longer, on
which point they agreed with me, but saw no means to help it. For
even if Lorna could make up her mind to come away with me and live at
Plover's Barrows farm, under my good mother's care, as I had urged so
often, behold the snow was all around us, heaped as high as mountains,
and how could any delicate maiden ever get across it?

Then I spoke with a strange tingle upon both sides of my heart, knowing
that this undertaking was a serious one for all, and might burn our farm
down,__

'If I warrant to take you safe, and without much fright or hardship,
Lorna, will you come with me?'

'To be sure I will, dear,' said my beauty, with a smile and a glance to
follow it; 'I have small alternative, to starve, or go with you, John.'

'Gwenny, have you courage for it? Will you come with your young
mistress?'

'Will I stay behind?' cried Gwenny, in a voice that settled it. And so
we began to arrange about it; and I was much excited. It was useless
now to leave it longer; if it could be done at all, it could not be too
quickly done. It was the Counsellor who had ordered, after all other
schemes had failed, that his niece should have no food until she would
obey him. He had strictly watched the house, taking turns with Carver,
to ensure that none came nigh it bearing food or comfort. But this
evening, they had thought it needless to remain on guard; and it
would have been impossible, because themselves were busy offering high
festival to all the valley, in right of their own commandership. And
Gwenny said that nothing made her so nearly mad with appetite as
the account she received from a woman of all the dishes preparing.
Nevertheless she had answered bravely,__

'Go and tell the Counsellor, and go and tell the Carver, who sent you to
spy upon us, that we shall have a finer dish than any set before them.'
And so in truth they did, although so little dreaming it; for no Doone
that was ever born, however much of a Carver, might vie with our Annie
for mince_meat.

Now while we sat reflecting much, and talking a good deal more, in spite
of all the cold__for I never was in a hurry to go, when I had Lorna with
me__she said, in her silvery voice, which always led me so along, as if
I were a slave to a beautiful bell,__

'Now, John, we are wasting time, dear. You have praised my hair, till it
curls with pride, and my eyes till you cannot see them, even if they are
brown diamonds which I have heard for the fiftieth time at least; though
I never saw such a jewel. Don't you think it is high time to put on your
snow_shoes, John?'

'Certainly not,' I answered, 'till we have settled something more. I was
so cold when I came in; and now I am as warm as a cricket. And so are
you, you lively soul; though you are not upon my hearth yet.'

'Remember, John,' said Lorna, nestling for a moment to me; 'the severity
of the weather makes a great difference between us. And you must never
take advantage.'

'I quite understand all that, dear. And the harder it freezes the
better, while that understanding continues. Now do try to be serious.'

'I try to be serious! And I have been trying fifty times, and could
not bring you to it, John! Although I am sure the situation, as the
Counsellor says at the beginning of a speech, the situation, to say the
least, is serious enough for anything. Come, Gwenny, imitate him.'

Gwenny was famed for her imitation of the Counsellor making a speech;
and she began to shake her hair, and mount upon a footstool; but I
really could not have this, though even Lorna ordered it. The truth
was that my darling maiden was in such wild spirits, at seeing me so
unexpected, and at the prospect of release, and of what she had never
known, quiet life and happiness, that like all warm and loving natures,
she could scarce control herself.

'Come to this frozen window, John, and see them light the stack_fire.
They will little know who looks at them. Now be very good, John. You
stay in that corner, dear, and I will stand on this side; and try to
breathe yourself a peep_hole through the lovely spears and banners. Oh,
you don't know how to do it. I must do it for you. Breathe three times,
like that, and that; and then you rub it with your fingers, before it
has time to freeze again.'

All this she did so beautifully, with her lips put up like cherries, and
her fingers bent half back, as only girls can bend them, and her little
waist thrown out against the white of the snowed_up window, that I made
her do it three times over; and I stopped her every time and let it
freeze again, that so she might be the longer. Now I knew that all her
love was mine, every bit as much as mine was hers; yet I must have her
to show it, dwelling upon every proof, lengthening out all certainty.
Perhaps the jealous heart is loath to own a life worth twice its own. Be
that as it may, I know that we thawed the window nicely.

And then I saw, far down the stream (or rather down the bed of it, for
there was no stream visible), a little form of fire arising, red, and
dark, and flickering. Presently it caught on something, and went upward
boldly; and then it struck into many forks, and then it fell, and rose
again.

'Do you know what all that is, John?' asked Lorna, smiling cleverly at
the manner of my staring.

'How on earth should I know? Papists burn Protestants in the flesh; and
Protestants burn Papists in effigy, as we mock them. Lorna, are they
going to burn any one to_night?'

'No, you dear. I must rid you of these things. I see that you are
bigoted. The Doones are firing Dunkery beacon, to celebrate their new
captain.'

'But how could they bring it here through the snow? If they have
sledges, I can do nothing.'

'They brought it before the snow began. The moment poor grandfather was
gone, even before his funeral, the young men, having none to check them,
began at once upon it. They had always borne a grudge against it; not
that it ever did them harm; but because it seemed so insolent. "Can't a
gentleman go home, without a smoke behind him?" I have often heard them
saying. And though they have done it no serious harm, since they threw
the firemen on the fire, many, many years ago, they have often promised
to bring it here for their candle; and now they have done it. Ah, now
look! The tar is kindled.'

Though Lorna took it so in joke, I looked upon it very gravely, knowing
that this heavy outrage to the feelings of the neighbourhood would cause
more stir than a hundred sheep stolen, or a score of houses sacked. Not
of course that the beacon was of the smallest use to any one, neither
stopped anybody from stealing, nay, rather it was like the parish knell,
which begins when all is over, and depresses all the survivors; yet
I knew that we valued it, and were proud, and spoke of it as a mighty
institution; and even more than that, our vestry had voted, within
the last two years, seven shillings and six_pence to pay for it, in
proportion with other parishes. And one of the men who attended to
it, or at least who was paid for doing so, was our Jem Slocombe's
grandfather.

However, in spite of all my regrets, the fire went up very merrily,
blazing red and white and yellow, as it leaped on different things.
And the light danced on the snow_drifts with a misty lilac hue. I was
astonished at its burning in such mighty depths of snow; but Gwenny said
that the wicked men had been three days hard at work, clearing, as it
were, a cock_pit, for their fire to have its way. And now they had a
mighty pile, which must have covered five land_yards square, heaped up
to a goodly height, and eager to take fire.

In this I saw great obstacle to what I wished to manage. For when this
pyramid should be kindled thoroughly, and pouring light and blazes
round, would not all the valley be like a white room full of candles?
Thinking thus, I was half inclined to abide my time for another night:
and then my second thoughts convinced me that I would be a fool in this.
For lo, what an opportunity! All the Doones would be drunk, of course,
in about three hours' time, and getting more and more in drink as the
night went on. As for the fire, it must sink in about three hours or
more, and only cast uncertain shadows friendly to my purpose. And then
the outlaws must cower round it, as the cold increased on them, helping
the weight of the liquor; and in their jollity any noise would be
cheered as a false alarm. Most of all, and which decided once for all my
action,__when these wild and reckless villains should be hot with ardent
spirits, what was door, or wall, to stand betwixt them and my Lorna?

This thought quickened me so much that I touched my darling reverently,
and told her in a few short words how I hoped to manage it.

'Sweetest, in two hours' time, I shall be again with you. Keep the bar
up, and have Gwenny ready to answer any one. You are safe while they are
dining, dear, and drinking healths, and all that stuff; and before they
have done with that, I shall be again with you. Have everything you care
to take in a very little compass, and Gwenny must have no baggage. I
shall knock loud, and then wait a little; and then knock twice, very
softly.'

With this I folded her in my arms; and she looked frightened at me; not
having perceived her danger; and then I told Gwenny over again what I
had told her mistress: but she only nodded her head and said, 'Young
man, go and teach thy grandmother.'



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 44

BROUGHT HOME AT LAST

To my great delight I found that the weather, not often friendly to
lovers, and lately seeming so hostile, had in the most important matter
done me a signal service. For when I had promised to take my love from
the power of those wretches, the only way of escape apparent lay
through the main Doone_gate. For though I might climb the cliffs myself,
especially with the snow to aid me, I durst not try to fetch Lorna up
them, even if she were not half_starved, as well as partly frozen;
and as for Gwenny's door, as we called it (that is to say, the little
entrance from the wooded hollow), it was snowed up long ago to the level
of the hills around. Therefore I was at my wit's end how to get them
out; the passage by the Doone_gate being long, and dark, and difficult,
and leading to such a weary circuit among the snowy moors and hills.

But now, being homeward_bound by the shortest possible track, I slipped
along between the bonfire and the boundary cliffs, where I found a caved
way of snow behind a sort of avalanche: so that if the Doones had been
keeping watch (which they were not doing, but revelling), they could
scarcely have discovered me. And when I came to my old ascent, where I
had often scaled the cliff and made across the mountains, it struck me
that I would just have a look at my first and painful entrance, to wit,
the water_slide. I never for a moment imagined that this could help me
now; for I never had dared to descend it, even in the finest weather;
still I had a curiosity to know what my old friend was like, with so
much snow upon him. But, to my very great surprise, there was scarcely
any snow there at all, though plenty curling high overhead from the
cliff, like bolsters over it. Probably the sweeping of the north_east
wind up the narrow chasm had kept the showers from blocking it,
although the water had no power under the bitter grip of frost. All my
water_slide was now less a slide than path of ice; furrowed where the
waters ran over fluted ridges; seamed where wind had tossed and combed
them, even while congealing; and crossed with little steps wherever the
freezing torrent lingered. And here and there the ice was fibred with
the trail of sludge_weed, slanting from the side, and matted, so as to
make resting_place.

Lo it was easy track and channel, as if for the very purpose made, down
which I could guide my sledge with Lorna sitting in it. There were only
two things to be feared; one lest the rolls of snow above should fall in
and bury us; the other lest we should rush too fast, and so be carried
headlong into the black whirlpool at the bottom, the middle of which was
still unfrozen, and looking more horrible by the contrast. Against this
danger I made provision, by fixing a stout bar across; but of the other
we must take our chance, and trust ourselves to Providence.

I hastened home at my utmost speed, and told my mother for God's sake
to keep the house up till my return, and to have plenty of fire blazing,
and plenty of water boiling, and food enough hot for a dozen people, and
the best bed aired with the warming_pan. Dear mother smiled softly at my
excitement, though her own was not much less, I am sure, and enhanced by
sore anxiety. Then I gave very strict directions to Annie, and praised
her a little, and kissed her; and I even endeavoured to flatter Eliza,
lest she should be disagreeable.

After this I took some brandy, both within and about me; the former,
because I had sharp work to do; and the latter in fear of whatever might
happen, in such great cold, to my comrades. Also I carried some other
provisions, grieving much at their coldness: and then I went to the
upper linhay, and took our new light pony_sledd, which had been made
almost as much for pleasure as for business; though God only knows how
our girls could have found any pleasure in bumping along so. On the
snow, however, it ran as sweetly as if it had been made for it; yet I
durst not take the pony with it; in the first place, because his hoofs
would break through the ever_shifting surface of the light and piling
snow; and secondly, because these ponies, coming from the forest, have a
dreadful trick of neighing, and most of all in frosty weather.

Therefore I girded my own body with a dozen turns of hay_rope, twisting
both the ends in under at the bottom of my breast, and winding the hay
on the skew a little, that the hempen thong might not slip between, and
so cut me in the drawing. I put a good piece of spare rope in the sledd,
and the cross_seat with the back to it, which was stuffed with our
own wool, as well as two or three fur coats; and then, just as I was
starting, out came Annie, in spite of the cold, panting for fear of
missing me, and with nothing on her head, but a lanthorn in one hand.

'Oh, John, here is the most wonderful thing! Mother has never shown it
before; and I can't think how she could make up her mind. She had
gotten it in a great well of a cupboard, with camphor, and spirits, and
lavender. Lizzie says it is a most magnificent sealskin cloak, worth
fifty pounds, or a farthing.'

'At any rate it is soft and warm,' said I, very calmly flinging it into
the bottom of the sledd. 'Tell mother I will put it over Lorna's feet.'

'Lorna's feet! Oh, you great fool,' cried Annie, for the first time
reviling me; 'over her shoulders; and be proud, you very stupid John.'

'It is not good enough for her feet,' I answered, with strong emphasis;
'but don't tell mother I said so, Annie. Only thank her very kindly.'

With that I drew my traces hard, and set my ashen staff into the snow,
and struck out with my best foot foremost (the best one at snow_shoes, I
mean), and the sledd came after me as lightly as a dog might follow; and
Annie, with the lanthorn, seemed to be left behind and waiting like a
pretty lamp_post.

The full moon rose as bright behind me as a paten of pure silver,
casting on the snow long shadows of the few things left above, burdened
rock, and shaggy foreland, and the labouring trees. In the great white
desolation, distance was a mocking vision; hills looked nigh, and
valleys far; when hills were far and valleys nigh. And the misty breath
of frost, piercing through the ribs of rock, striking to the pith of
trees, creeping to the heart of man, lay along the hollow places, like a
serpent sloughing. Even as my own gaunt shadow (travestied as if I were
the moonlight's daddy_longlegs), went before me down the slope; even
I, the shadow's master, who had tried in vain to cough, when coughing
brought good liquorice, felt a pressure on my bosom, and a husking in my
throat.

However, I went on quietly, and at a very tidy speed; being only too
thankful that the snow had ceased, and no wind as yet arisen. And from
the ring of low white vapour girding all the verge of sky, and from the
rosy blue above, and the shafts of starlight set upon a quivering bow,
as well as from the moon itself and the light behind it, having learned
the signs of frost from its bitter twinges, I knew that we should have
a night as keen as ever England felt. Nevertheless, I had work enough to
keep me warm if I managed it. The question was, could I contrive to save
my darling from it?

Daring not to risk my sledd by any fall from the valley_cliffs, I
dragged it very carefully up the steep incline of ice, through the
narrow chasm, and so to the very brink and verge where first I had seen
my Lorna, in the fishing days of boyhood. As I then had a trident fork,
for sticking of the loaches, so I now had a strong ash stake, to lay
across from rock to rock, and break the speed of descending. With this I
moored the sledd quite safe, at the very lip of the chasm, where all was
now substantial ice, green and black in the moonlight; and then I set
off up the valley, skirting along one side of it.

The stack_fire still was burning strongly, but with more of heat than
blaze; and many of the younger Doones were playing on the verge of it,
the children making rings of fire, and their mothers watching them. All
the grave and reverend warriors having heard of rheumatism, were inside
of log and stone, in the two lowest houses, with enough of candles
burning to make our list of sheep come short.

All these I passed, without the smallest risk or difficulty, walking up
the channel of drift which I spoke of once before. And then I crossed,
with more of care, and to the door of Lorna's house, and made the sign,
and listened, after taking my snow_shoes off.

But no one came, as I expected, neither could I espy a light. And I
seemed to hear a faint low sound, like the moaning of the snow_wind.
Then I knocked again more loudly, with a knocking at my heart: and
receiving no answer, set all my power at once against the door. In a
moment it flew inwards, and I glided along the passage with my feet
still slippery. There in Lorna's room I saw, by the moonlight flowing
in, a sight which drove me beyond sense.

Lorna was behind a chair, crouching in the corner, with her hands up,
and a crucifix, or something that looked like it. In the middle of the
room lay Gwenny Carfax, stupid, yet with one hand clutching the ankle of
a struggling man. Another man stood above my Lorna, trying to draw the
chair away. In a moment I had him round the waist, and he went out of
the window with a mighty crash of glass; luckily for him that window had
no bars like some of them. Then I took the other man by the neck; and he
could not plead for mercy. I bore him out of the house as lightly as I
would bear a baby, yet squeezing his throat a little more than I fain
would do to an infant. By the bright moonlight I saw that I carried
Marwood de Whichehalse. For his father's sake I spared him, and because
he had been my schoolfellow; but with every muscle of my body strung
with indignation, I cast him, like a skittle, from me into a snowdrift,
which closed over him. Then I looked for the other fellow, tossed
through Lorna's window, and found him lying stunned and bleeding,
neither able to groan yet. Charleworth Doone, if his gushing blood did
not much mislead me.

It was no time to linger now; I fastened my shoes in a moment, and
caught up my own darling with her head upon my shoulder, where she
whispered faintly; and telling Gwenny to follow me, or else I would come
back for her, if she could not walk the snow, I ran the whole distance
to my sledd, caring not who might follow me. Then by the time I had set
up Lorna, beautiful and smiling, with the seal_skin cloak all over her,
sturdy Gwenny came along, having trudged in the track of my snow_shoes,
although with two bags on her back. I set her in beside her mistress,
to support her, and keep warm; and then with one look back at the glen,
which had been so long my home of heart, I hung behind the sledd, and
launched it down the steep and dangerous way.

Though the cliffs were black above us, and the road unseen in front, and
a great white grave of snow might at a single word come down, Lorna was
as calm and happy as an infant in its bed. She knew that I was with her;
and when I told her not to speak, she touched my hand in silence. Gwenny
was in a much greater fright, having never seen such a thing before,
neither knowing what it is to yield to pure love's confidence. I could
hardly keep her quiet, without making a noise myself. With my staff from
rock to rock, and my weight thrown backward, I broke the sledd's too
rapid way, and brought my grown love safely out, by the selfsame road
which first had led me to her girlish fancy, and my boyish slavery.

Unpursued, yet looking back as if some one must be after us, we skirted
round the black whirling pool, and gained the meadows beyond it. Here
there was hard collar work, the track being all uphill and rough; and
Gwenny wanted to jump out, to lighten the sledd and to push behind. But
I would not hear of it; because it was now so deadly cold, and I feared
that Lorna might get frozen, without having Gwenny to keep her warm. And
after all, it was the sweetest labour I had ever known in all my
life, to be sure that I was pulling Lorna, and pulling her to our own
farmhouse.

Gwenny's nose was touched with frost, before we had gone much farther,
because she would not keep it quiet and snug beneath the sealskin. And
here I had to stop in the moonlight (which was very dangerous) and rub
it with a clove of snow, as Eliza had taught me; and Gwenny scolding
all the time, as if myself had frozen it. Lorna was now so far oppressed
with all the troubles of the evening, and the joy that followed them, as
well as by the piercing cold and difficulty of breathing, that she lay
quite motionless, like fairest wax in the moonlight__when we stole a
glance at her, beneath the dark folds of the cloak; and I thought that
she was falling into the heavy snow_sleep, whence there is no awaking.

Therefore, I drew my traces tight, and set my whole strength to the
business; and we slipped along at a merry pace, although with many
joltings, which must have sent my darling out into the cold snowdrifts
but for the short strong arm of Gwenny. And so in about an hour's time,
in spite of many hindrances, we came home to the old courtyard, and all
the dogs saluted us. My heart was quivering, and my cheeks as hot as
the Doones' bonfire, with wondering both what Lorna would think of
our farm_yard, and what my mother would think of her. Upon the former
subject my anxiety was wasted, for Lorna neither saw a thing, nor even
opened her heavy eyes. And as to what mother would think of her, she was
certain not to think at all, until she had cried over her.

And so indeed it came to pass. Even at this length of time, I can hardly
tell it, although so bright before my mind, because it moves my heart
so. The sledd was at the open door, with only Lorna in it; for Gwenny
Carfax had jumped out, and hung back in the clearing, giving any reason
rather than the only true one__that she would not be intruding. At the
door were all our people; first, of course, Betty Muxworthy, teaching
me how to draw the sledd, as if she had been born in it, and flourishing
with a great broom, wherever a speck of snow lay. Then dear Annie,
and old Molly (who was very quiet, and counted almost for nobody), and
behind them, mother, looking as if she wanted to come first, but
doubted how the manners lay. In the distance Lizzie stood, fearful of
encouraging, but unable to keep out of it.

Betty was going to poke her broom right in under the sealskin cloak,
where Lorna lay unconscious, and where her precious breath hung frozen,
like a silver cobweb; but I caught up Betty's broom, and flung it clean
away over the corn chamber; and then I put the others by, and fetched my
mother forward.

'You shall see her first,' I said: 'is she not your daughter? Hold the
light there, Annie.'

Dear mother's hands were quick and trembling, as she opened the shining
folds; and there she saw my Lorna sleeping, with her black hair all
dishevelled, and she bent and kissed her forehead, and only said, 'God
bless her, John!' And then she was taken with violent weeping, and I was
forced to hold her.

'Us may tich of her now, I rackon,' said Betty in her most jealous way;
'Annie, tak her by the head, and I'll tak her by the toesen. No taime
to stand here like girt gawks. Don'ee tak on zo, missus. Ther be vainer
vish in the zea__Lor, but, her be a booty!'

With this, they carried her into the house, Betty chattering all the
while, and going on now about Lorna's hands, and the others crowding
round her, so that I thought I was not wanted among so many women, and
should only get the worst of it, and perhaps do harm to my darling.
Therefore I went and brought Gwenny in, and gave her a potful of
bacon and peas, and an iron spoon to eat it with, which she did right
heartily.

Then I asked her how she could have been such a fool as to let those two
vile fellows enter the house where Lorna was; and she accounted for it
so naturally, that I could only blame myself. For my agreement had been
to give one loud knock (if you happen to remember) and after that two
little knocks. Well these two drunken rogues had come; and one, being
very drunk indeed, had given a great thump; and then nothing more to
do with it; and the other, being three_quarters drunk, had followed his
leader (as one might say) but feebly, and making two of it. Whereupon up
jumped Lorna, and declared that her John was there.

All this Gwenny told me shortly, between the whiles of eating, and even
while she licked the spoon; and then there came a message for me that my
love was sensible, and was seeking all around for me. Then I told Gwenny
to hold her tongue (whatever she did among us), and not to trust to
women's words; and she told me they all were liars, as she had found
out long ago; and the only thing to believe in was an honest man, when
found. Thereupon I could have kissed her as a sort of tribute, liking to
be appreciated; yet the peas upon her lips made me think about it; and
thought is fatal to action. So I went to see my dear.

That sight I shall not forget; till my dying head falls back, and my
breast can lift no more. I know not whether I were then more blessed,
or harrowed by it. For in the settle was my Lorna, propped with
pillows round her, and her clear hands spread sometimes to the blazing
fireplace. In her eyes no knowledge was of anything around her, neither
in her neck the sense of leaning towards anything. Only both her lovely
hands were entreating something, to spare her, or to love her; and the
lines of supplication quivered in her sad white face.

'All go away, except my mother,' I said very quietly, but so that I
would be obeyed; and everybody knew it. Then mother came to me alone;
and she said, 'The frost is in her brain; I have heard of this before,
John.' 'Mother, I will have it out,' was all that I could answer her;
'leave her to me altogether; only you sit there and watch.' For I felt
that Lorna knew me, and no other soul but me; and that if not interfered
with, she would soon come home to me. Therefore I sat gently by her,
leaving nature, as it were, to her own good time and will. And presently
the glance that watched me, as at distance and in doubt, began to
flutter and to brighten, and to deepen into kindness, then to beam with
trust and love, and then with gathering tears to falter, and in shame
to turn away. But the small entreating hands found their way, as if by
instinct, to my great projecting palms; and trembled there, and rested
there.

For a little while we lingered thus, neither wishing to move away,
neither caring to look beyond the presence of the other; both alike so
full of hope, and comfort, and true happiness; if only the world would
let us be. And then a little sob disturbed us, and mother tried to make
believe that she was only coughing. But Lorna, guessing who she was,
jumped up so very rashly that she almost set her frock on fire from the
great ash log; and away she ran to the old oak chair, where mother was
by the clock_case pretending to be knitting, and she took the work from
mother's hands, and laid them both upon her head, kneeling humbly, and
looking up.

'God bless you, my fair mistress!' said mother, bending nearer, and then
as Lorna's gaze prevailed, 'God bless you, my sweet child!'

And so she went to mother's heart by the very nearest road, even as she
had come to mine; I mean the road of pity, smoothed by grace, and youth,
and gentleness.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 45

A CHANGE LONG NEEDED

Jeremy Stickles was gone south, ere ever the frost set in, for the
purpose of mustering forces to attack the Doone Glen. But, of course,
this weather had put a stop to every kind of movement; for even if men
could have borne the cold, they could scarcely be brought to face the
perils of the snow_drifts. And to tell the truth I cared not how long
this weather lasted, so long as we had enough to eat, and could keep
ourselves from freezing. Not only that I did not want Master Stickles
back again, to make more disturbances; but also that the Doones could
not come prowling after Lorna while the snow lay piled between us, with
the surface soft and dry. Of course they would very soon discover where
their lawful queen was, although the track of sledd and snow_shoes had
been quite obliterated by another shower, before the revellers could
have grown half as drunk as they intended. But Marwood de Whichehalse,
who had been snowed up among them (as Gwenny said), after helping
to strip the beacon, that young Squire was almost certain to have
recognised me, and to have told the vile Carver. And it gave me no
little pleasure to think how mad that Carver must be with me, for
robbing him of the lovely bride whom he was starving into matrimony.
However, I was not pleased at all with the prospect of the consequences;
but set all hands on to thresh the corn, ere the Doones could come and
burn the ricks. For I knew that they could not come yet, inasmuch as
even a forest pony could not traverse the country, much less the heavy
horses needed to carry such men as they were. And hundreds of the forest
ponies died in this hard weather, some being buried in the snow, and
more of them starved for want of grass.

Going through this state of things, and laying down the law about
it (subject to correction), I very soon persuaded Lorna that for the
present she was safe, and (which made her still more happy) that she was
not only welcome, but as gladdening to our eyes as the flowers of May.
Of course, so far as regarded myself, this was not a hundredth part of
the real truth; and even as regarded others, I might have said it ten
times over. For Lorna had so won them all, by her kind and gentle ways,
and her mode of hearkening to everybody's trouble, and replying without
words, as well as by her beauty, and simple grace of all things, that
I could almost wish sometimes the rest would leave her more to me. But
mother could not do enough; and Annie almost worshipped her; and even
Lizzie could not keep her bitterness towards her; especially when she
found that Lorna knew as much of books as need be.

As for John Fry, and Betty, and Molly, they were a perfect plague when
Lorna came into the kitchen. For betwixt their curiosity to see a
live Doone in the flesh (when certain not to eat them), and their high
respect for birth (with or without honesty), and their intense desire to
know all about Master John's sweetheart (dropped, as they said, from the
snow_clouds), and most of all their admiration of a beauty such as never
even their angels could have seen__betwixt and between all this, I say,
there was no getting the dinner cooked, with Lorna in the kitchen.

And the worst of it was that Lorna took the strangest of all strange
fancies for this very kitchen; and it was hard to keep her out of it.
Not that she had any special bent for cooking, as our Annie had; rather
indeed the contrary, for she liked to have her food ready cooked; but
that she loved the look of the place, and the cheerful fire burning, and
the racks of bacon to be seen, and the richness, and the homeliness, and
the pleasant smell of everything. And who knows but what she may have
liked (as the very best of maidens do) to be admired, now and then,
between the times of business?

Therefore if you wanted Lorna (as I was always sure to do, God knows
how many times a day), the very surest place to find her was our own
old kitchen. Not gossiping, I mean, nor loitering, neither seeking into
things, but seeming to be quite at home, as if she had known it from a
child, and seeming (to my eyes at least) to light it up, and make life
and colour out of all the dullness; as I have seen the breaking sun do
among brown shocks of wheat.

But any one who wished to learn whether girls can change or not, as the
things around them change (while yet their hearts are steadfast, and for
ever anchored), he should just have seen my Lorna, after a fortnight
of our life, and freedom from anxiety. It is possible that my
company__although I am accounted stupid by folk who do not know my
way__may have had something to do with it; but upon this I will not say
much, lest I lose my character. And indeed, as regards company, I had
all the threshing to see to, and more than half to do myself (though any
one would have thought that even John Fry must work hard this weather),
else I could not hope at all to get our corn into such compass that a
good gun might protect it.

But to come back to Lorna again (which I always longed to do, and must
long for ever), all the change between night and day, all the shifts
of cloud and sun, all the difference between black death and brightsome
liveliness, scarcely may suggest or equal Lorna's transformation. Quick
she had always been and 'peart' (as we say on Exmoor) and gifted with a
leap of thought too swift for me to follow; and hence you may find fault
with much, when I report her sayings. But through the whole had always
run, as a black string goes through pearls, something dark and touched
with shadow, coloured as with an early end.

But, now, behold! there was none of this! There was no getting her, for
a moment, even to be serious. All her bright young wit was flashing,
like a newly_awakened flame, and all her high young spirits leaped, as
if dancing to its fire. And yet she never spoke a word which gave more
pain than pleasure.

And even in her outward look there was much of difference. Whether it
was our warmth, and freedom, and our harmless love of God, and trust
in one another; or whether it were our air, and water, and the pea_fed
bacon; anyhow my Lorna grew richer and more lovely, more perfect and
more firm of figure, and more light and buoyant, with every passing day
that laid its tribute on her cheeks and lips. I was allowed one kiss
a day; only one for manners' sake, because she was our visitor; and I
might have it before breakfast, or else when I came to say 'good_night!'
according as I decided. And I decided every night, not to take it in the
morning, but put it off till the evening time, and have the pleasure to
think about, through all the day of working. But when my darling came up
to me in the early daylight, fresher than the daystar, and with no one
looking; only her bright eyes smiling, and sweet lips quite ready, was
it likely I could wait, and think all day about it? For she wore a frock
of Annie's, nicely made to fit her, taken in at the waist and curved__I
never could explain it, not being a mantua_maker; but I know how her
figure looked in it, and how it came towards me.

But this is neither here nor there; and I must on with my story. Those
days are very sacred to me, and if I speak lightly of them, trust
me, 'tis with lip alone; while from heart reproach peeps sadly at the
flippant tricks of mind.

Although it was the longest winter ever known in our parts (never having
ceased to freeze for a single night, and scarcely for a single day, from
the middle of December till the second week in March), to me it was the
very shortest and the most delicious; and verily I do believe it was
the same to Lorna. But when the Ides of March were come (of which I
do remember something dim from school, and something clear from my
favourite writer) lo, there were increasing signals of a change of
weather.

One leading feature of that long cold, and a thing remarked by every one
(however unobservant) had been the hollow moaning sound ever present in
the air, morning, noon, and night_time, and especially at night, whether
any wind were stirring, or whether it were a perfect calm. Our people
said that it was a witch cursing all the country from the caverns by the
sea, and that frost and snow would last until we could catch and drown
her. But the land, being thoroughly blocked with snow, and the inshore
parts of the sea with ice (floating in great fields along), Mother
Melldrum (if she it were) had the caverns all to herself, for there
was no getting at her. And speaking of the sea reminds me of a thing
reported to us, and on good authority; though people might be found
hereafter who would not believe it, unless I told them that from what I
myself beheld of the channel I place perfect faith in it: and this is,
that a dozen sailors at the beginning of March crossed the ice, with the
aid of poles from Clevedon to Penarth, or where the Holm rocks barred
the flotage.

But now, about the tenth of March, that miserable moaning noise, which
had both foregone and accompanied the rigour, died away from out the
air; and we, being now so used to it, thought at first that we must be
deaf. And then the fog, which had hung about (even in full sunshine)
vanished, and the shrouded hills shone forth with brightness manifold.
And now the sky at length began to come to its true manner, which we
had not seen for months, a mixture (if I so may speak) of various
expressions. Whereas till now from Allhallows_tide, six weeks ere the
great frost set in, the heavens had worn one heavy mask of ashen gray
when clouded, or else one amethystine tinge with a hazy rim, when
cloudless. So it was pleasant to behold, after that monotony, the fickle
sky which suits our England, though abused by foreign folk.

And soon the dappled softening sky gave some earnest of its mood; for a
brisk south wind arose, and the blessed rain came driving, cold indeed,
yet most refreshing to the skin, all parched with snow, and the eyeballs
so long dazzled. Neither was the heart more sluggish in its thankfulness
to God. People had begun to think, and somebody had prophesied, that we
should have no spring this year, no seed_time, and no harvest; for that
the Lord had sent a judgment on this country of England, and the
nation dwelling in it, because of the wickedness of the Court, and the
encouragement shown to Papists. And this was proved, they said, by what
had happened in the town of London; where, for more than a fortnight,
such a chill of darkness lay that no man might behold his neighbour,
even across the narrowest street; and where the ice upon the Thames was
more than four feet thick, and crushing London Bridge in twain. Now
to these prophets I paid no heed, believing not that Providence would
freeze us for other people's sins; neither seeing how England could for
many generations have enjoyed good sunshine, if Popery meant frost and
fogs. Besides, why could not Providence settle the business once for
all by freezing the Pope himself; even though (according to our view) he
were destined to extremes of heat, together with all who followed him?

Not to meddle with that subject, being beyond my judgment, let me tell
the things I saw, and then you must believe me. The wind, of course, I
could not see, not having the powers of a pig; but I could see the laden
branches of the great oaks moving, hoping to shake off the load packed
and saddled on them. And hereby I may note a thing which some one may
explain perhaps in the after ages, when people come to look at things.
This is that in desperate cold all the trees were pulled awry, even
though the wind had scattered the snow burden from them. Of some sorts
the branches bended downwards, like an archway; of other sorts the
boughs curved upwards, like a red deer's frontlet. This I know no
reason* for; but am ready to swear that I saw it.

     * The reason is very simple, as all nature's reasons are;
     though the subject has not yet been investigated thoroughly.
     In some trees the vascular tissue is more open on the upper
     side, in others on the under side, of the spreading
     branches; according to the form of growth, and habit of the
     sap.  Hence in very severe cold, when the vessels
     (comparatively empty) are constricted, some have more power
     of contraction on the upper side, and some upon the under.

Now when the first of the rain began, and the old familiar softness
spread upon the window glass, and ran a little way in channels (though
from the coldness of the glass it froze before reaching the bottom),
knowing at once the difference from the short sharp thud of snow, we all
ran out, and filled our eyes and filled our hearts with gazing. True,
the snow was piled up now all in mountains round us; true, the air was
still so cold that our breath froze on the doorway, and the rain was
turned to ice wherever it struck anything; nevertheless that it was rain
there was no denying, as we watched it across black doorways, and could
see no sign of white. Mother, who had made up her mind that the farm
was not worth having after all those prophesies, and that all of us must
starve, and holes be scratched in the snow for us, and no use to put up
a tombstone (for our church had been shut up long ago) mother fell
upon my breast, and sobbed that I was the cleverest fellow ever born
of woman. And this because I had condemned the prophets for a pack of
fools; not seeing how business could go on, if people stopped to hearken
to them.

Then Lorna came and glorified me, for I had predicted a change of
weather, more to keep their spirits up, than with real hope of it; and
then came Annie blushing shyly, as I looked at her, and said that Winnie
would soon have four legs now. This referred to some stupid joke made
by John Fry or somebody, that in this weather a man had no legs, and a
horse had only two.

But as the rain came down upon us from the southwest wind, and we could
not have enough of it, even putting our tongues to catch it, as little
children might do, and beginning to talk of primroses; the very noblest
thing of all was to hear and see the gratitude of the poor beasts yet
remaining and the few surviving birds. From the cowhouse lowing came,
more than of fifty milking times; moo and moo, and a turn_up noise at
the end of every bellow, as if from the very heart of kine. Then the
horses in the stables, packed as closely as they could stick, at the
risk of kicking, to keep the warmth in one another, and their spirits
up by discoursing; these began with one accord to lift up their voices,
snorting, snaffling, whinnying, and neighing, and trotting to the door
to know when they should have work again. To whom, as if in answer, came
the feeble bleating of the sheep, what few, by dint of greatest care,
had kept their fleeces on their backs, and their four legs under them.

Neither was it a trifling thing, let whoso will say the contrary, to
behold the ducks and geese marching forth in handsome order from their
beds of fern and straw. What a goodly noise they kept, what a flapping
of their wings, and a jerking of their tails, as they stood right up and
tried with a whistling in their throats to imitate a cockscrow! And then
how daintily they took the wet upon their dusty plumes, and ducked their
shoulders to it, and began to dress themselves, and laid their grooved
bills on the snow, and dabbled for more ooziness!

Lorna had never seen, I dare say, anything like this before, and it was
all that we could do to keep her from rushing forth with only little
lambswool shoes on, and kissing every one of them. 'Oh, the dear things,
oh, the dear things!' she kept saying continually, 'how wonderfully
clever they are! Only look at that one with his foot up, giving orders
to the others, John!'

'And I must give orders to you, my darling,' I answered, gazing on her
face, so brilliant with excitement; 'and that is, that you come in at
once, with that worrisome cough of yours; and sit by the fire, and warm
yourself.'

'Oh, no, John! Not for a minute, if you please, good John. I want to see
the snow go away, and the green meadows coming forth. And here comes our
favourite robin, who has lived in the oven so long, and sang us a song
every morning. I must see what he thinks of it!'

'You will do nothing of the sort,' I answered very shortly, being only
too glad of a cause for having her in my arms again. So I caught her up,
and carried her in; and she looked and smiled so sweetly at me instead
of pouting (as I had feared) that I found myself unable to go very fast
along the passage. And I set her there in her favourite place, by the
sweet_scented wood_fire; and she paid me porterage without my even
asking her; and for all the beauty of the rain, I was fain to stay with
her; until our Annie came to say that my advice was wanted.

Now my advice was never much, as everybody knew quite well; but that was
the way they always put it, when they wanted me to work for them. And in
truth it was time for me to work; not for others, but myself, and (as I
always thought) for Lorna. For the rain was now coming down in earnest;
and the top of the snow being frozen at last, and glazed as hard as a
china cup, by means of the sun and frost afterwards, all the rain ran
right away from the steep inclines, and all the outlets being blocked
with ice set up like tables, it threatened to flood everything. Already
it was ponding up, like a tide advancing at the threshold of the door
from which we had watched the duck_birds; both because great piles of
snow trended in that direction, in spite of all our scraping, and also
that the gulley hole, where the water of the shoot went out (I mean when
it was water) now was choked with lumps of ice, as big as a man's body.
For the 'shoot,' as we called our little runnel of everlasting water,
never known to freeze before, and always ready for any man either to
wash his hands, or drink, where it spouted from a trough of bark, set
among white flint_stones; this at last had given in, and its music
ceased to lull us, as we lay in bed.

It was not long before I managed to drain off this threatening flood,
by opening the old sluice_hole; but I had much harder work to keep the
stables, and the cow_house, and the other sheds, from flooding. For we
have a sapient practice (and I never saw the contrary round about our
parts, I mean), of keeping all rooms underground, so that you step down
to them. We say that thus we keep them warmer, both for cattle and for
men, in the time of winter, and cooler in the summer_time. This I will
not contradict, though having my own opinion; but it seems to me to be
a relic of the time when people in the western countries lived in caves
beneath the ground, and blocked the mouths with neat_skins.

Let that question still abide, for men who study ancient times to inform
me, if they will; all I know is, that now we had no blessings for the
system. If after all their cold and starving, our weak cattle now should
have to stand up to their knees in water, it would be certain death to
them; and we had lost enough already to make us poor for a long time;
not to speak of our kind love for them. And I do assure you, I loved
some horses, and even some cows for that matter, as if they had been my
blood_relations; knowing as I did their virtues. And some of these were
lost to us; and I could not bear to think of them. Therefore I worked
hard all night to try and save the rest of them.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 46

SQUIRE FAGGUS MAKES SOME LUCKY HITS

Through that season of bitter frost the red deer of the forest, having
nothing to feed upon, and no shelter to rest in, had grown accustomed to
our ricks of corn, and hay, and clover. There we might see a hundred
of them almost any morning, come for warmth, and food, and comfort, and
scarce willing to move away. And many of them were so tame, that they
quietly presented themselves at our back door, and stood there with
their coats quite stiff, and their flanks drawn in and panting,
and icicles sometimes on their chins, and their great eyes fastened
wistfully upon any merciful person; craving for a bit of food, and a
drink of water; I suppose that they had not sense enough to chew the
snow and melt it; at any rate, all the springs being frozen, and rivers
hidden out of sight, these poor things suffered even more from thirst
than they did from hunger.

But now there was no fear of thirst, and more chance indeed of drowning;
for a heavy gale of wind arose, with violent rain from the south_west,
which lasted almost without a pause for three nights and two days. At
first the rain made no impression on the bulk of snow, but ran from
every sloping surface and froze on every flat one, through the coldness
of the earth; and so it became impossible for any man to keep his legs
without the help of a shodden staff. After a good while, however, the
air growing very much warmer, this state of things began to change, and
a worse one to succeed it; for now the snow came thundering down from
roof, and rock, and ivied tree, and floods began to roar and foam in
every trough and gulley. The drifts that had been so white and fair,
looked yellow, and smirched, and muddy, and lost their graceful curves,
and moulded lines, and airiness. But the strangest sight of all to me
was in the bed of streams, and brooks, and especially of the Lynn river.
It was worth going miles to behold such a thing, for a man might never
have the chance again.

Vast drifts of snow had filled the valley, and piled above the
river_course, fifty feet high in many places, and in some as much as a
hundred. These had frozen over the top, and glanced the rain away from
them, and being sustained by rock and tree, spanned the water mightily.
But meanwhile the waxing flood, swollen from every moorland hollow
and from every spouting crag, had dashed away all icy fetters, and
was rolling gloriously. Under white fantastic arches, and long tunnels
freaked and fretted, and between pellucid pillars jagged with nodding
architraves, the red impetuous torrent rushed, and the brown foam
whirled and flashed. I was half inclined to jump in and swim through
such glorious scenery; for nothing used to please me more than swimming
in a flooded river. But I thought of the rocks, and I thought of the
cramp, and more than all, of Lorna; and so, between one thing and
another, I let it roll on without me.

It was now high time to work very hard; both to make up for the
farm_work lost during the months of frost and snow, and also to be ready
for a great and vicious attack from the Doones, who would burn us in our
beds at the earliest opportunity. Of farm_work there was little yet for
even the most zealous man to begin to lay his hand to; because when the
ground appeared through the crust of bubbled snow (as at last it did,
though not as my Lorna had expected, at the first few drops of rain)
it was all so soaked and sodden, and as we call it, 'mucksy,' that to
meddle with it in any way was to do more harm than good. Nevertheless,
there was yard work, and house work, and tendence of stock, enough to
save any man from idleness.

As for Lorna, she would come out. There was no keeping her in the house.
She had taken up some peculiar notion that we were doing more for her
than she had any right to, and that she must earn her living by the
hard work of her hands. It was quite in vain to tell her that she was
expected to do nothing, and far worse than vain (for it made her cry
sadly) if any one assured her that she could do no good at all. She even
began upon mother's garden before the snow was clean gone from it, and
sowed a beautiful row of peas, every one of which the mice ate.

But though it was very pretty to watch her working for her very life,
as if the maintenance of the household hung upon her labours, yet I was
grieved for many reasons, and so was mother also. In the first place,
she was too fair and dainty for this rough, rude work; and though it
made her cheeks so bright, it surely must be bad for her to get her
little feet so wet. Moreover, we could not bear the idea that she should
labour for her keep; and again (which was the worst of all things)
mother's garden lay exposed to a dark deceitful coppice, where a man
might lurk and watch all the fair gardener's doings. It was true that
none could get at her thence, while the brook which ran between poured
so great a torrent. Still the distance was but little for a gun to
carry, if any one could be brutal enough to point a gun at Lorna. I
thought that none could be found to do it; but mother, having more
experience, was not so certain of mankind.

Now in spite of the floods, and the sloughs being out, and the state of
the roads most perilous, Squire Faggus came at last, riding his famous
strawberry mare. There was a great ado between him and Annie, as you
may well suppose, after some four months of parting. And so we left them
alone awhile, to coddle over their raptures. But when they were tired of
that, or at least had time enough to do so, mother and I went in to know
what news Tom had brought with him. Though he did not seem to want us
yet, he made himself agreeable; and so we sent Annie to cook the dinner
while her sweetheart should tell us everything.

Tom Faggus had very good news to tell, and he told it with such force of
expression as made us laugh very heartily. He had taken up his purchase
from old Sir Roger Bassett of a nice bit of land, to the south of the
moors, and in the parish of Molland. When the lawyers knew thoroughly
who he was, and how he had made his money, they behaved uncommonly well
to him, and showed great sympathy with his pursuits. He put them up to a
thing or two; and they poked him in the ribs, and laughed, and said that
he was quite a boy; but of the right sort, none the less. And so they
made old Squire Bassett pay the bill for both sides; and all he got for
three hundred acres was a hundred and twenty pounds; though Tom had paid
five hundred. But lawyers know that this must be so, in spite of all
their endeavours; and the old gentleman, who now expected to find a bill
for him to pay, almost thought himself a rogue, for getting anything out
of them.

It is true that the land was poor and wild, and the soil exceeding
shallow; lying on the slope of rock, and burned up in hot summers. But
with us, hot summers are things known by tradition only (as this great
winter may be); we generally have more moisture, especially in July,
than we well know what to do with. I have known a fog for a fortnight
at the summer solstice, and farmers talking in church about it when they
ought to be praying. But it always contrives to come right in the end,
as other visitations do, if we take them as true visits, and receive
them kindly.

Now this farm of Squire Faggus (as he truly now had a right to be
called) was of the very finest pasture, when it got good store of rain.
And Tom, who had ridden the Devonshire roads with many a reeking jacket,
knew right well that he might trust the climate for that matter. The
herbage was of the very sweetest, and the shortest, and the closest,
having perhaps from ten to eighteen inches of wholesome soil between it
and the solid rock. Tom saw at once what it was fit for__the breeding of
fine cattle.

Being such a hand as he was at making the most of everything, both his
own and other people's (although so free in scattering, when the
humour lay upon him) he had actually turned to his own advantage that
extraordinary weather which had so impoverished every one around him.
For he taught his Winnie (who knew his meaning as well as any child
could, and obeyed not only his word of mouth, but every glance he
gave her) to go forth in the snowy evenings when horses are seeking
everywhere (be they wild or tame) for fodder and for shelter; and to
whinny to the forest ponies, miles away from home perhaps, and lead
them all with rare appetites and promise of abundance, to her master's
homestead. He shod good Winnie in such a manner that she could not sink
in the snow; and he clad her over the loins with a sheep_skin dyed to
her own colour, which the wild horses were never tired of coming up and
sniffing at; taking it for an especial gift, and proof of inspiration.
And Winnie never came home at night without at least a score of ponies
trotting shyly after her, tossing their heads and their tails in turn,
and making believe to be very wild, although hard pinched by famine. Of
course Tom would get them all into his pound in about five minutes,
for he himself could neigh in a manner which went to the heart of the
wildest horse. And then he fed them well, and turned them into his great
cattle pen, to abide their time for breaking, when the snow and frost
should be over.

He had gotten more than three hundred now, in this sagacious manner; and
he said it was the finest sight to see their mode of carrying on, how
they would snort, and stamp, and fume, and prick their ears, and rush
backwards, and lash themselves with their long rough tails, and shake
their jagged manes, and scream, and fall upon one another, if a strange
man came anigh them. But as for feeding time, Tom said it was better
than fifty plays to watch them, and the tricks they were up to, to cheat
their feeders, and one another. I asked him how on earth he had managed
to get fodder, in such impassable weather, for such a herd of horses;
but he said that they lived upon straw and sawdust; and he knew that I
did not believe him, any more than about his star_shavings. And this was
just the thing he loved__to mystify honest people, and be a great deal
too knowing. However, I may judge him harshly, because I myself tell
everything.

I asked him what he meant to do with all that enormous lot of horses,
and why he had not exerted his wits to catch the red deer as well. He
said that the latter would have been against the laws of venery, and
might have brought him into trouble, but as for disposing of his stud,
it would give him little difficulty. He would break them, when the
spring weather came on, and deal with them as they required, and keep
the handsomest for breeding. The rest he would despatch to London, where
he knew plenty of horse_dealers; and he doubted not that they would
fetch him as much as ten pounds apiece all round, being now in great
demand. I told him I wished that he might get it; but as it proved
afterwards, he did.

Then he pressed us both on another point, the time for his marriage to
Annie; and mother looked at me to say when, and I looked back at mother.
However, knowing something of the world, and unable to make any further
objection, by reason of his prosperity, I said that we must even do as
the fashionable people did, and allow the maid herself to settle, when
she would leave home and all. And this I spoke with a very bad grace,
being perhaps of an ancient cast, and over fond of honesty__I mean, of
course, among lower people.

But Tom paid little heed to this, knowing the world a great deal better
than ever I could pretend to do; and being ready to take a thing, upon
which he had set his mind, whether it came with a good grace, or whether
it came with a bad one. And seeing that it would be awkward to provoke
my anger, he left the room, before more words, to submit himself to
Annie.

Upon this I went in search of Lorna, to tell her of our cousin's
arrival, and to ask whether she would think fit to see him, or to dine
by herself that day; for she should do exactly as it pleased her in
everything, while remaining still our guest. But I rather wished that
she might choose not to sit in Tom's company, though she might be
introduced to him. Not but what he could behave quite as well as could,
and much better, as regarded elegance and assurance, only that his
honesty had not been as one might desire. But Lorna had some curiosity
to know what this famous man was like, and declared that she would by
all means have the pleasure of dining with him, if he did not object to
her company on the ground of the Doones' dishonesty; moreover, she said
that it would seem a most foolish air on her part, and one which would
cause the greatest pain to Annie, who had been so good to her, if she
should refuse to sit at table with a man who held the King's pardon, and
was now a pattern of honesty.

Against this I had not a word to say; and could not help acknowledging
in my heart that she was right, as well as wise, in her decision. And
afterwards I discovered that mother would have been much displeased, if
she had decided otherwise.

Accordingly she turned away, with one of her very sweetest smiles (whose
beauty none can describe) saying that she must not meet a man of such
fashion and renown, in her common gardening frock; but must try to look
as nice as she could, if only in honour of dear Annie. And truth to
tell, when she came to dinner, everything about her was the neatest
and prettiest that can possibly be imagined. She contrived to match
the colours so, to suit one another and her own, and yet with a certain
delicate harmony of contrast, and the shape of everything was so nice,
so that when she came into the room, with a crown of winning modesty
upon the consciousness of beauty, I was quite as proud as if the Queen
of England entered.

My mother could not help remarking, though she knew that it was not
mannerly, how like a princess Lorna looked, now she had her best things
on; but two things caught Squire Faggus's eyes, after he had made a
most gallant bow, and received a most graceful courtesy; and he kept his
bright bold gaze upon them, first on one, and then on the other, until
my darling was hot with blushes, and I was ready to knock him down if he
had not been our visitor. But here again I should have been wrong, as I
was apt to be in those days; for Tom intended no harm whatever, and his
gaze was of pure curiosity; though Annie herself was vexed with it. The
two objects of his close regard, were first, and most worthily, Lorna's
face, and secondly, the ancient necklace restored to her by Sir Ensor
Doone.

Now wishing to save my darling's comfort, and to keep things quiet, I
shouted out that dinner was ready, so that half the parish could hear
me; upon which my mother laughed, and chid me, and despatched her guests
before her. And a very good dinner we made, I remember, and a very
happy one; attending to the women first, as now is the manner of eating;
except among the workmen. With them, of course, it is needful that
the man (who has his hours fixed) should be served first, and make the
utmost of his time for feeding, while the women may go on, as much as
ever they please, afterwards. But with us, who are not bound to time,
there is no such reason to be quoted; and the women being the weaker
vessels, should be the first to begin to fill. And so we always arranged
it.

Now, though our Annie was a graceful maid, and Lizzie a very learned
one, you should have seen how differently Lorna managed her dining; she
never took more than about a quarter of a mouthful at a time, and she
never appeared to be chewing that, although she must have done so.
Indeed, she appeared to dine as if it were a matter of no consequence,
and as if she could think of other things more than of her business. All
this, and her own manner of eating, I described to Eliza once, when I
wanted to vex her for something very spiteful that she had said; and
I never succeeded so well before, for the girl was quite outrageous,
having her own perception of it, which made my observation ten times as
bitter to her. And I am not sure but what she ceased to like poor Lorna
from that day; and if so, I was quite paid out, as I well deserved, for
my bit of satire.

For it strikes me that of all human dealings, satire is the very lowest,
and most mean and common. It is the equivalent in words of what bullying
is in deeds; and no more bespeaks a clever man, than the other does a
brave one. These two wretched tricks exalt a fool in his own low esteem,
but never in his neighbour's; for the deep common sense of our nature
tells that no man of a genial heart, or of any spread of mind, can take
pride in either. And though a good man may commit the one fault or the
other, now and then, by way of outlet, he is sure to have compunctions
soon, and to scorn himself more than the sufferer.

Now when the young maidens were gone__for we had quite a high dinner of
fashion that day, with Betty Muxworthy waiting, and Gwenny Carfax at the
gravy__and only mother, and Tom, and I remained at the white deal table,
with brandy, and schnapps, and hot water jugs; Squire Faggus said quite
suddenly, and perhaps on purpose to take us aback, in case of our hiding
anything,__'What do you know of the history of that beautiful maiden,
good mother?'

'Not half so much as my son does,' mother answered, with a soft smile at
me; 'and when John does not choose to tell a thing, wild horses will not
pull it out of him.'

'That is not at all like me, mother,' I replied rather sadly; 'you know
almost every word about Lorna, quite as well as I do.'

'Almost every word, I believe, John; for you never tell a falsehood. But
the few unknown may be of all the most important to me.'

To this I made no answer, for fear of going beyond the truth, or else
of making mischief. Not that I had, or wished to have, any mystery with
mother; neither was there in purest truth, any mystery in the matter;
to the utmost of my knowledge. And the only things that I had kept back,
solely for mother's comfort, were the death of poor Lord Alan Brandir
(if indeed he were dead) and the connection of Marwood de Whichehalse
with the dealings of the Doones, and the threats of Carver Doone against
my own prosperity; and, may be, one or two little things harrowing more
than edifying.

'Come, come,' said Master Faggus, smiling very pleasantly, 'you two
understand each other, if any two on earth do. Ah, if I had only had a
mother, how different I might have been!' And with that he sighed,
in the tone which always overcame mother upon that subject, and had
something to do with his getting Annie; and then he produced his pretty
box, full of rolled tobacco, and offered me one, as I now had joined the
goodly company of smokers. So I took it, and watched what he did with
his own, lest I might go wrong about mine.

But when our cylinders were both lighted, and I enjoying mine
wonderfully, and astonishing mother by my skill, Tom Faggus told us that
he was sure he had seen my Lorna's face before, many and many years ago,
when she was quite a little child, but he could not remember where it
was, or anything more about it at present; though he would try to do so
afterwards. He could not be mistaken, he said, for he had noticed her
eyes especially; and had never seen such eyes before, neither
again, until this day. I asked him if he had ever ventured into the
Doone_valley; but he shook his head, and replied that he valued his life
a deal too much for that. Then we put it to him, whether anything might
assist his memory; but he said that he knew not of aught to do so,
unless it were another glass of schnapps.

This being provided, he grew very wise, and told us clearly and candidly
that we were both very foolish. For he said that we were keeping Lorna,
at the risk not only of our stock, and the house above our heads, but
also of our precious lives; and after all was she worth it, although so
very beautiful? Upon which I told him, with indignation, that her beauty
was the least part of her goodness, and that I would thank him for his
opinion when I had requested it.

'Bravo, our John Ridd!' he answered; 'fools will be fools till the end
of the Edition Chapter; and I might be as big a one, if I were in thy shoes,
John. Nevertheless, in the name of God, don't let that helpless child go
about with a thing worth half the county on her.'

'She is worth all the county herself,' said I, 'and all England put
together; but she has nothing worth half a rick of hay upon her; for the
ring I gave her cost only,'__and here I stopped, for mother was looking,
and I never would tell her how much it had cost me; though she had tried
fifty times to find out.

'Tush, the ring!' Tom Faggus cried, with a contempt that moved me: 'I
would never have stopped a man for that. But the necklace, you great
oaf, the necklace is worth all your farm put together, and your Uncle
Ben's fortune to the back of it; ay, and all the town of Dulverton.'

'What,' said I, 'that common glass thing, which she has had from her
childhood!'

'Glass indeed! They are the finest brilliants ever I set eyes on; and I
have handled a good many.'

'Surely,' cried mother, now flushing as red as Tom's own cheeks with
excitement, 'you must be wrong, or the young mistress would herself have
known it.'

I was greatly pleased with my mother, for calling Lorna 'the young
mistress'; it was not done for the sake of her diamonds, whether they
were glass or not; but because she felt as I had done, that Tom Faggus,
a man of no birth whatever, was speaking beyond his mark, in calling a
lady like Lorna a helpless child; as well as in his general tone, which
displayed no deference. He might have been used to the quality, in the
way of stopping their coaches, or roystering at hotels with them; but he
never had met a high lady before, in equality, and upon virtue; and we
both felt that he ought to have known it, and to have thanked us for the
opportunity, in a word, to have behaved a great deal more humbly than he
had even tried to do.

'Trust me,' answered Tom, in his loftiest manner, which Annie said
was 'so noble,' but which seemed to me rather flashy, 'trust me, good
mother, and simple John, for knowing brilliants, when I see them. I
would have stopped an eight_horse coach, with four carabined out_riders,
for such a booty as that. But alas, those days are over; those were days
worth living in. Ah, I never shall know the like again. How fine it was
by moonlight!'

'Master Faggus,' began my mother, with a manner of some dignity, such
as she could sometimes use, by right of her integrity, and thorough
kindness to every one, 'this is not the tone in which you have hitherto
spoken to me about your former pursuits and life, I fear that the
spirits'__but here she stopped, because the spirits were her own, and
Tom was our visitor,__'what I mean, Master Faggus, is this: you have
won my daughter's heart somehow; and you won my consent to the matter
through your honest sorrow, and manly undertaking to lead a different
life, and touch no property but your own. Annie is my eldest daughter,
and the child of a most upright man. I love her best of all on earth,
next to my boy John here'__here mother gave me a mighty squeeze, to be
sure that she would have me at least__'and I will not risk my Annie's
life with a man who yearns for the highway.'

Having made this very long speech (for her), mother came home upon my
shoulder, and wept so that (but for heeding her) I would have taken Tom
by the nose, and thrown him, and Winnie after him, over our farm_yard
gate. For I am violent when roused; and freely hereby acknowledge it;
though even my enemies will own that it takes a great deal to rouse me.
But I do consider the grief and tears (when justly caused) of my dearest
friends, to be a great deal to rouse me.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 47

JEREMY IN DANGER

Nothing very long abides, as the greatest of all writers (in whose
extent I am for ever lost in raptured wonder, and yet for ever quite at
home, as if his heart were mine, although his brains so different), in a
word as Mr. William Shakespeare, in every one of his works insists, with
a humoured melancholy. And if my journey to London led to nothing else
of advancement, it took me a hundred years in front of what I might else
have been, by the most simple accident.

Two women were scolding one another across the road, very violently,
both from upstair windows; and I in my hurry for quiet life, and not
knowing what might come down upon me, quickened my step for the nearest
corner. But suddenly something fell on my head; and at first I was
afraid to look, especially as it weighed heavily. But hearing no
breakage of ware, and only the other scold laughing heartily, I turned
me about and espied a book, which one had cast at the other, hoping to
break her window. So I took the book, and tendered it at the door of the
house from which it had fallen; but the watchman came along just then,
and the man at the door declared that it never came from their house,
and begged me to say no more. This I promised readily, never wishing to
make mischief; and I said, 'Good sir, now take the book; I will go on
to my business.' But he answered that he would do no such thing; for
the book alone, being hurled so hard, would convict his people of a lewd
assault; and he begged me, if I would do a good turn, to put the book
under my coat and go. And so I did: in part at least. For I did not put
the book under my coat, but went along with it openly, looking for any
to challenge it. Now this book, so acquired, has been not only the
joy of my younger days, and main delight of my manhood, but also the
comfort, and even the hope, of my now declining years. In a word, it is
next to my Bible to me, and written in equal English; and if you espy
any goodness whatever in my own loose style of writing, you must not
thank me, John Ridd, for it, but the writer who holds the champion's
belt in wit, as I once did in wrestling.

Now, as nothing very long abides, it cannot be expected that a woman's
anger should last very long, if she be at all of the proper sort. And
my mother, being one of the very best, could not long retain her wrath
against the Squire Faggus especially when she came to reflect, upon
Annie's suggestion, how natural, and one might say, how inevitable
it was that a young man fond of adventure and change and winning good
profits by jeopardy, should not settle down without some regrets to a
fixed abode and a life of sameness, however safe and respectable.
And even as Annie put the case, Tom deserved the greater credit for
vanquishing so nobly these yearnings of his nature; and it seemed very
hard to upbraid him, considering how good his motives were; neither
could Annie understand how mother could reconcile it with her knowledge
of the Bible, and the one sheep that was lost, and the hundredth piece
of silver, and the man that went down to Jericho.

Whether Annie's logic was good and sound, I am sure I cannot tell; but
it seemed to me that she ought to have let the Jericho traveller alone,
inasmuch as he rather fell among Tom Fagusses, than resembled them.
However, her reasoning was too much for mother to hold out against; and
Tom was replaced, and more than that, being regarded now as an injured
man. But how my mother contrived to know, that because she had been too
hard upon Tom, he must be right about the necklace, is a point which I
never could clearly perceive, though no doubt she could explain it.

To prove herself right in the conclusion, she went herself to fetch
Lorna, that the trinket might be examined, before the day grew dark. My
darling came in, with a very quick glance and smile at my cigarro (for I
was having the third by this time, to keep things in amity); and I waved
it towards her, as much as to say, 'you see that I can do it.' And then
mother led her up to the light, for Tom to examine her necklace.

On the shapely curve of her neck it hung, like dewdrops upon a white
hyacinth; and I was vexed that Tom should have the chance to see it
there. But even if she had read my thoughts, or outrun them with her
own, Lorna turned away, and softly took the jewels from the place which
so much adorned them. And as she turned away, they sparkled through
the rich dark waves of hair. Then she laid the glittering circlet in
my mother's hands; and Tom Faggus took it eagerly, and bore it to the
window.

'Don't you go out of sight,' I said; 'you cannot resist such things as
those, if they be what you think them.'

'Jack, I shall have to trounce thee yet. I am now a man of honour, and
entitled to the duello. What will you take for it, Mistress Lorna? At a
hazard, say now.'

'I am not accustomed to sell things, sir,' replied Lorna, who did not
like him much, else she would have answered sportively, 'What is it
worth, in your opinion?'

'Do you think it is worth five pounds, now?'

'Oh, no! I never had so much money as that in all my life. It is very
bright, and very pretty; but it cannot be worth five pounds, I am sure.'

'What a chance for a bargain! Oh, if it were not for Annie, I could make
my fortune.'

'But, sir, I would not sell it to you, not for twenty times five pounds.
My grandfather was so kind about it; and I think it belonged to my
mother.'

'There are twenty_five rose diamonds in it, and twenty_five large
brilliants that cannot be matched in London. How say you, Mistress
Lorna, to a hundred thousand pounds?'

My darling's eyes so flashed at this, brighter than any diamonds, that
I said to myself, 'Well, all have faults; and now I have found out
Lorna's__she is fond of money!' And then I sighed rather heavily; for of
all faults this seems to me one of the worst in a woman. But even before
my sigh was finished, I had cause to condemn myself. For Lorna took the
necklace very quietly from the hands of Squire Faggus, who had not half
done with admiring it, and she went up to my mother with the sweetest
smile I ever saw.

'Dear kind mother, I am so glad,' she said in a whisper, coaxing mother
out of sight of all but me; 'now you will have it, won't you, dear? And
I shall be so happy; for a thousandth part of your kindness to me no
jewels in the world can match.'

I cannot lay before you the grace with which she did it, all the air
of seeking favour, rather than conferring it, and the high_bred fear of
giving offence, which is of all fears the noblest. Mother knew not what
to say. Of course she would never dream of taking such a gift as that;
and yet she saw how sadly Lorna would be disappointed. Therefore, mother
did, from habit, what she almost always did, she called me to help her.
But knowing that my eyes were full__for anything noble moves me so,
quite as rashly as things pitiful__I pretended not to hear my mother,
but to see a wild cat in the dairy.

Therefore I cannot tell what mother said in reply to Lorna; for when I
came back, quite eager to let my love know how I worshipped her, and
how deeply I was ashamed of myself, for meanly wronging her in my heart,
behold Tom Faggus had gotten again the necklace which had such charms
for him, and was delivering all around (but especially to Annie, who was
wondering at his learning) a dissertation on precious stones, and his
sentiments about those in his hand. He said that the work was very
ancient, but undoubtedly very good; the cutting of every line was
true, and every angle was in its place. And this he said, made all the
difference in the lustre of the stone, and therefore in its value. For
if the facets were ill_matched, and the points of light so ever little
out of perfect harmony, all the lustre of the jewel would be loose
and wavering, and the central fire dulled; instead of answering, as it
should, to all possibilities of gaze, and overpowering any eye intent on
its deeper mysteries. We laughed at the Squire's dissertation; for how
should he know all these things, being nothing better, and indeed much
worse than a mere Northmolton blacksmith? He took our laughter with much
good nature; having Annie to squeeze his hand and convey her grief at
our ignorance: but he said that of one thing he was quite certain, and
therein I believed him. To wit, that a trinket of this kind never could
have belonged to any ignoble family, but to one of the very highest and
most wealthy in England. And looking at Lorna, I felt that she must have
come from a higher source than the very best of diamonds.

Tom Faggus said that the necklace was made, he would answer for it, in
Amsterdam, two or three hundred years ago, long before London jewellers
had begun to meddle with diamonds; and on the gold clasp he found some
letters, done in some inverted way, the meaning of which was beyond him;
also a bearing of some kind, which he believed was a mountain_cat. And
thereupon he declared that now he had earned another glass of schnapps,
and would Mistress Lorna mix it for him?

I was amazed at his impudence; and Annie, who thought this her business,
did not look best pleased; and I hoped that Lorna would tell him at once
to go and do it for himself. But instead of that she rose to do it with
a soft humility, which went direct to the heart of Tom; and he leaped up
with a curse at himself, and took the hot water from her, and would not
allow her to do anything except to put the sugar in; and then he bowed
to her grandly. I knew what Lorna was thinking of; she was thinking all
the time that her necklace had been taken by the Doones with violence
upon some great robbery; and that Squire Faggus knew it, though he would
not show his knowledge; and that this was perhaps the reason why mother
had refused it so.

We said no more about the necklace for a long time afterwards; neither
did my darling wear it, now that she knew its value, but did not know
its history. She came to me the very next day, trying to look cheerful,
and begged me if I loved her (never mind how little) to take charge of
it again, as I once had done before, and not even to let her know in
what place I stored it. I told her that this last request I could not
comply with; for having been round her neck so often, it was now a
sacred thing, more than a million pounds could be. Therefore it should
dwell for the present in the neighbourhood of my heart; and so could not
be far from her. At this she smiled her own sweet smile, and touched
my forehead with her lips, and wished that she could only learn how to
deserve such love as mine.

Tom Faggus took his good departure, which was a kind farewell to me,
on the very day I am speaking of, the day after his arrival. Tom was
a thoroughly upright man, according to his own standard; and you might
rely upon him always, up to a certain point I mean, to be there or
thereabouts. But sometimes things were too many for Tom, especially with
ardent spirits, and then he judged, perhaps too much, with only himself
for the jury. At any rate, I would trust him fully, for candour and
for honesty, in almost every case in which he himself could have no
interest. And so we got on very well together; and he thought me a fool;
and I tried my best not to think anything worse of him.

Scarcely was Tom clean out of sight, and Annie's tears not dry yet (for
she always made a point of crying upon his departure), when in came
Master Jeremy Stickles, splashed with mud from head to foot, and not in
the very best of humours, though happy to get back again.

'Curse those fellows!' he cried, with a stamp which sent the water
hissing from his boot upon the embers; 'a pretty plight you may call
this, for His Majesty's Commissioner to return to his headquarters in!
Annie, my dear,' for he was always very affable with Annie, 'will you
help me off with my overalls, and then turn your pretty hand to the
gridiron? Not a blessed morsel have I touched for more than twenty_four
hours.'

'Surely then you must be quite starving, sir,' my sister replied with
the greatest zeal; for she did love a man with an appetite; 'how glad I
am that the fire is clear!' But Lizzie, who happened to be there, said
with her peculiar smile,__

'Master Stickles must be used to it; for he never comes back without
telling us that.'

'Hush!' cried Annie, quite shocked with her; 'how would you like to
be used to it? Now, Betty, be quick with the things for me. Pork, or
mutton, or deer's meat, sir? We have some cured since the autumn.'

'Oh, deer's meat, by all means,' Jeremy Stickles answered; 'I have
tasted none since I left you, though dreaming of it often. Well, this
is better than being chased over the moors for one's life, John. All the
way from Landacre Bridge, I have ridden a race for my precious life, at
the peril of my limbs and neck. Three great Doones galloping after me,
and a good job for me that they were so big, or they must have overtaken
me. Just go and see to my horse, John, that's an excellent lad. He
deserves a good turn this day, from me; and I will render it to him.'

However he left me to do it, while he made himself comfortable: and
in truth the horse required care; he was blown so that he could hardly
stand, and plastered with mud, and steaming so that the stable was
quite full with it. By the time I had put the poor fellow to rights, his
master had finished dinner, and was in a more pleasant humour, having
even offered to kiss Annie, out of pure gratitude, as he said; but Annie
answered with spirit that gratitude must not be shown by increasing the
obligation. Jeremy made reply to this that his only way to be grateful
then was to tell us his story: and so he did, at greater length than
I can here repeat it; for it does not bear particularly upon Lorna's
fortunes.

It appears that as he was riding towards us from the town of Southmolton
in Devonshire, he found the roads very soft and heavy, and the floods
out in all directions; but met with no other difficulty until he came to
Landacre Bridge. He had only a single trooper with him, a man not of the
militia but of the King's army, whom Jeremy had brought from Exeter.
As these two descended towards the bridge they observed that both the
Kensford water and the River Barle were pouring down in mighty floods
from the melting of the snow. So great indeed was the torrent, after
they united, that only the parapets of the bridge could be seen above
the water, the road across either bank being covered and very deep on
the hither side. The trooper did not like the look of it, and proposed
to ride back again, and round by way of Simonsbath, where the stream is
smaller. But Stickles would not have it so, and dashing into the river,
swam his horse for the bridge, and gained it with some little trouble;
and there he found the water not more than up to his horse's knees
perhaps. On the crown of the bridge he turned his horse to watch the
trooper's passage, and to help him with directions; when suddenly he saw
him fall headlong into the torrent, and heard the report of a gun from
behind, and felt a shock to his own body, such as lifted him out of
the saddle. Turning round he beheld three men, risen up from behind the
hedge on one side of his onward road, two of them ready to load again,
and one with his gun unfired, waiting to get good aim at him. Then
Jeremy did a gallant thing, for which I doubt whether I should have had
the presence of mind in danger. He saw that to swim his horse back again
would be almost certain death; as affording such a target, where even
a wound must be fatal. Therefore he struck the spurs into the nag, and
rode through the water straight at the man who was pointing the long gun
at him. If the horse had been carried off his legs, there must have been
an end of Jeremy; for the other men were getting ready to have another
shot at him. But luckily the horse galloped right on without any need
for swimming, being himself excited, no doubt, by all he had seen and
heard of it. And Jeremy lay almost flat on his neck, so as to give
little space for good aim, with the mane tossing wildly in front of him.
Now if that young fellow with the gun had his brains as ready as his
flint was, he would have shot the horse at once, and then had Stickles
at his mercy; but instead of that he let fly at the man, and missed him
altogether, being scared perhaps by the pistol which Jeremy showed him
the mouth of. And galloping by at full speed, Master Stickles tried to
leave his mark behind him, for he changed the aim of his pistol to the
biggest man, who was loading his gun and cursing like ten cannons. But
the pistol missed fire, no doubt from the flood which had gurgled in
over the holsters; and Jeremy seeing three horses tethered at a gate
just up the hill, knew that he had not yet escaped, but had more of
danger behind him. He tried his other great pistol at one of the
horses tethered there, so as to lessen (if possible) the number of his
pursuers. But the powder again failed him; and he durst not stop to cut
the bridles, bearing the men coming up the hill. So he even made the
most of his start, thanking God that his weight was light, compared at
least to what theirs was.

And another thing he had noticed which gave him some hope of escaping,
to wit that the horses of the Doones, although very handsome animals,
were suffering still from the bitter effects of the late long frost, and
the scarcity of fodder. 'If they do not catch me up, or shoot me, in the
course of the first two miles, I may see my home again'; this was what
he said to himself as he turned to mark what they were about, from
the brow of the steep hill. He saw the flooded valley shining with the
breadth of water, and the trooper's horse on the other side, shaking
his drenched flanks and neighing; and half_way down the hill he saw the
three Doones mounting hastily. And then he knew that his only chance lay
in the stoutness of his steed.

The horse was in pretty good condition; and the rider knew him
thoroughly, and how to make the most of him; and though they had
travelled some miles that day through very heavy ground, the bath in
the river had washed the mud off, and been some refreshment. Therefore
Stickles encouraged his nag, and put him into a good hard gallop,
heading away towards Withycombe. At first he had thought of turning to
the right, and making off for Withypool, a mile or so down the valley;
but his good sense told him that no one there would dare to protect him
against the Doones, so he resolved to go on his way; yet faster than he
had intended.

The three villains came after him, with all the speed they could muster,
making sure from the badness of the road that he must stick fast ere
long, and so be at their mercy. And this was Jeremy's chiefest fear,
for the ground being soft and thoroughly rotten, after so much frost and
snow, the poor horse had terrible work of it, with no time to pick the
way; and even more good luck than skill was needed to keep him from
foundering. How Jeremy prayed for an Exmoor fog (such as he had often
sworn at), that he might turn aside and lurk, while his pursuers went
past him! But no fog came, nor even a storm to damp the priming of their
guns; neither was wood or coppice nigh, nor any place to hide in; only
hills, and moor, and valleys; with flying shadows over them, and great
banks of snow in the corners. At one time poor Stickles was quite in
despair; for after leaping a little brook which crosses the track at
Newland, be stuck fast in a 'dancing bog,' as we call them upon Exmoor.
The horse had broken through the crust of moss and sedge and marishweed,
and could do nothing but wallow and sink, with the black water spirting
over him. And Jeremy, struggling with all his might, saw the three
villains now topping the crest, less than a furlong behind him; and
heard them shout in their savage delight. With the calmness of despair,
he yet resolved to have one more try for it; and scrambling over the
horse's head, gained firm land, and tugged at the bridle. The poor nag
replied with all his power to the call upon his courage, and reared his
forefeet out of the slough, and with straining eyeballs gazed at him.
'Now,' said Jeremy, 'now, my fine fellow!' lifting him with the bridle,
and the brave beast gathered the roll of his loins, and sprang from his
quagmired haunches. One more spring, and he was on earth again, instead
of being under it; and Jeremy leaped on his back, and stooped, for he
knew that they would fire. Two bullets whistled over him, as the horse,
mad with fright, dashed forward; and in five minutes more he had come to
the Exe, and the pursuers had fallen behind him. The Exe, though a much
smaller stream than the Barle, now ran in a foaming torrent, unbridged,
and too wide for leaping. But Jeremy's horse took the water well; and
both he and his rider were lightened, as well as comforted by it. And as
they passed towards Lucott hill, and struck upon the founts of Lynn,
the horses of the three pursuers began to tire under them. Then Jeremy
Stickles knew that if he could only escape the sloughs, he was safe for
the present; and so he stood up in his stirrups, and gave them a loud
halloo, as if they had been so many foxes.

Their only answer was to fire the remaining charge at him; but the
distance was too great for any aim from horseback; and the dropping
bullet idly ploughed the sod upon one side of him. He acknowledged it
with a wave of his hat, and laid one thumb to his nose, in the manner
fashionable in London for expression of contempt. However, they followed
him yet farther; hoping to make him pay out dearly, if he should only
miss the track, or fall upon morasses. But the neighbourhood of our Lynn
stream is not so very boggy; and the King's messenger now knew his
way as well as any of his pursuers did; and so he arrived at Plover's
Barrows, thankful, and in rare appetite.

'But was the poor soldier drowned?' asked Annie; 'and you never went to
look for him! Oh, how very dreadful!'

'Shot, or drowned; I know not which. Thank God it was only a trooper.
But they shall pay for it, as dearly as if it had been a captain.'

'And how was it you were struck by a bullet, and only shaken in your
saddle? Had you a coat of mail on, or of Milanese chain_armour? Now,
Master Stickles, had you?'

'No, Mistress Lizzie; we do not wear things of that kind nowadays. You
are apt, I perceive, at romances. But I happened to have a little flat
bottle of the best stoneware slung beneath my saddle_cloak, and filled
with the very best eau de vie, from the George Hotel, at Southmolton.
The brand of it now is upon my back. Oh, the murderous scoundrels, what
a brave spirit they have spilled!'

'You had better set to and thank God,' said I, 'that they have not
spilled a braver one.'



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 48

EVERY MAN MUST DEFEND HIMSELF

It was only right in Jeremy Stickles, and of the simplest common sense,
that he would not tell, before our girls, what the result of his journey
was. But he led me aside in the course of the evening, and told me all
about it; saying that I knew, as well as he did, that it was not woman's
business. This I took, as it was meant, for a gentle caution that Lorna
(whom he had not seen as yet) must not be informed of any of his doings.
Herein I quite agreed with him; not only for his furtherance, but
because I always think that women, of whatever mind, are best when least
they meddle with the things that appertain to men.

Master Stickles complained that the weather had been against him
bitterly, closing all the roads around him; even as it had done with us.
It had taken him eight days, he said, to get from Exeter to Plymouth;
whither he found that most of the troops had been drafted off from
Exeter. When all were told, there was but a battalion of one of the
King's horse regiments, and two companies of foot soldiers; and their
commanders had orders, later than the date of Jeremy's commission, on
no account to quit the southern coast, and march inland. Therefore,
although they would gladly have come for a brush with the celebrated
Doones, it was more than they durst attempt, in the face of their
instructions. However, they spared him a single trooper, as a companion
of the road, and to prove to the justices of the county, and the lord
lieutenant, that he had their approval.

To these authorities Master Stickles now was forced to address himself,
although he would rather have had one trooper than a score from the
very best trained bands. For these trained bands had afforded very good
soldiers, in the time of the civil wars, and for some years afterwards;
but now their discipline was gone; and the younger generation had seen
no real fighting. Each would have his own opinion, and would want to
argue it; and if he were not allowed, he went about his duty in such a
temper as to prove that his own way was the best.

Neither was this the worst of it; for Jeremy made no doubt but what (if
he could only get the militia to turn out in force) he might manage,
with the help of his own men, to force the stronghold of the enemy; but
the truth was that the officers, knowing how hard it would be to collect
their men at that time of the year, and in that state of the weather,
began with one accord to make every possible excuse. And especially
they pressed this point, that Bagworthy was not in their county; the
Devonshire people affirming vehemently that it lay in the shire of
Somerset, and the Somersetshire folk averring, even with imprecations,
that it lay in Devonshire. Now I believe the truth to be that the
boundary of the two counties, as well as of Oare and Brendon parishes,
is defined by the Bagworthy river; so that the disputants on both sides
were both right and wrong.

Upon this, Master Stickles suggested, and as I thought very sensibly,
that the two counties should unite, and equally contribute to the
extirpation of this pest, which shamed and injured them both alike. But
hence arose another difficulty; for the men of Devon said they would
march when Somerset had taken the field; and the sons of Somerset
replied that indeed they were quite ready, but what were their cousins
of Devonshire doing? And so it came to pass that the King's Commissioner
returned without any army whatever; but with promise of two hundred men
when the roads should be more passable. And meanwhile, what were we to
do, abandoned as we were to the mercies of the Doones, with only our own
hands to help us? And herein I grieved at my own folly, in having let
Tom Faggus go, whose wit and courage would have been worth at least half
a dozen men to us. Upon this matter I held long council with my good
friend Stickles; telling him all about Lorna's presence, and what I knew
of her history. He agreed with me that we could not hope to escape an
attack from the outlaws, and the more especially now that they knew
himself to be returned to us. Also he praised me for my forethought
in having threshed out all our corn, and hidden the produce in such a
manner that they were not likely to find it. Furthermore, he recommended
that all the entrances to the house should at once be strengthened,
and a watch must be maintained at night; and he thought it wiser that
I should go (late as it was) to Lynmouth, if a horse could pass the
valley, and fetch every one of his mounted troopers, who might now be
quartered there. Also if any men of courage, though capable only of
handling a pitchfork, could be found in the neighbourhood, I was to try
to summon them. But our district is so thinly peopled, that I had little
faith in this; however my errand was given me, and I set forth upon it;
for John Fry was afraid of the waters.

Knowing how fiercely the floods were out, I resolved to travel the
higher road, by Cosgate and through Countisbury; therefore I swam my
horse through the Lynn, at the ford below our house (where sometimes you
may step across), and thence galloped up and along the hills. I could
see all the inland valleys ribbon'd with broad waters; and in every
winding crook, the banks of snow that fed them; while on my right the
turbid sea was flaked with April showers. But when I descended the hill
towards Lynmouth, I feared that my journey was all in vain.

For the East Lynn (which is our river) was ramping and roaring
frightfully, lashing whole trunks of trees on the rocks, and rending
them, and grinding them. And into it rushed, from the opposite side, a
torrent even madder; upsetting what it came to aid; shattering wave with
boiling billow, and scattering wrath with fury. It was certain death to
attempt the passage: and the little wooden footbridge had been carried
away long ago. And the men I was seeking must be, of course, on the
other side of this deluge, for on my side there was not a single house.

I followed the bank of the flood to the beach, some two or three hundred
yards below; and there had the luck to see Will Watcombe on the opposite
side, caulking an old boat. Though I could not make him hear a word,
from the deafening roar of the torrent, I got him to understand at last
that I wanted to cross over. Upon this he fetched another man, and the
two of them launched a boat; and paddling well out to sea, fetched round
the mouth of the frantic river. The other man proved to be Stickles's
chief mate; and so he went back and fetched his comrades, bringing their
weapons, but leaving their horses behind. As it happened there were
but four of them; however, to have even these was a help; and I started
again at full speed for my home; for the men must follow afoot, and
cross our river high up on the moorland.

This took them a long way round, and the track was rather bad to find,
and the sky already darkening; so that I arrived at Plover's Barrows
more than two hours before them. But they had done a sagacious thing,
which was well worth the delay; for by hoisting their flag upon the
hill, they fetched the two watchmen from the Foreland, and added them to
their number.

It was lucky that I came home so soon; for I found the house in a great
commotion, and all the women trembling. When I asked what the matter
was, Lorna, who seemed the most self_possessed, answered that it was all
her fault, for she alone had frightened them. And this in the following
manner. She had stolen out to the garden towards dusk, to watch some
favourite hyacinths just pushing up, like a baby's teeth, and just
attracting the fatal notice of a great house_snail at night_time. Lorna
at last had discovered the glutton, and was bearing him off in triumph
to the tribunal of the ducks, when she descried two glittering eyes
glaring at her steadfastly, from the elder_bush beyond the stream.
The elder was smoothing its wrinkled leaves, being at least two months
behind time; and among them this calm cruel face appeared; and she knew
it was the face of Carver Doone.

The maiden, although so used to terror (as she told me once before),
lost all presence of mind hereat, and could neither shriek nor fly, but
only gaze, as if bewitched. Then Carver Doone, with his deadly smile,
gloating upon her horror, lifted his long gun, and pointed full at
Lorna's heart. In vain she strove to turn away; fright had stricken her
stiff as stone. With the inborn love of life, she tried to cover the
vital part wherein the winged death must lodge__for she knew Carver's
certain aim__but her hands hung numbed, and heavy; in nothing but her
eyes was life.

With no sign of pity in his face, no quiver of relenting, but a
well_pleased grin at all the charming palsy of his victim, Carver Doone
lowered, inch by inch, the muzzle of his gun. When it pointed to the
ground, between her delicate arched insteps, he pulled the trigger,
and the bullet flung the mould all over her. It was a refinement of
bullying, for which I swore to God that night, upon my knees, in secret,
that I would smite down Carver Doone or else he should smite me down.
Base beast! what largest humanity, or what dreams of divinity, could
make a man put up with this?

My darling (the loveliest, and most harmless, in the world of maidens),
fell away on a bank of grass, and wept at her own cowardice; and
trembled, and wondered where I was; and what I would think of this. Good
God! What could I think of it? She over_rated my slow nature, to admit
the question.

While she leaned there, quite unable yet to save herself, Carver came
to the brink of the flood, which alone was between them; and then he
stroked his jet_black beard, and waited for Lorna to begin. Very likely,
he thought that she would thank him for his kindness to her. But she was
now recovering the power of her nimble limbs; and ready to be off like
hope, and wonder at her own cowardice.

'I have spared you this time,' he said, in his deep calm voice, 'only
because it suits my plans; and I never yield to temper. But unless you
come back to_morrow, pure, and with all you took away, and teach me
to destroy that fool, who has destroyed himself for you, your death is
here, your death is here, where it has long been waiting.'

Although his gun was empty, he struck the breech of it with his finger;
and then he turned away, not deigning even once to look back again; and
Lorna saw his giant figure striding across the meadow_land, as if the
Ridds were nobodies, and he the proper owner. Both mother and I were
greatly hurt at hearing of this insolence: for we had owned that meadow,
from the time of the great Alfred; and even when that good king lay in
the Isle of Athelney, he had a Ridd along with him.

Now I spoke to Lorna gently, seeing how much she had been tried; and
I praised her for her courage, in not having run away, when she was so
unable; and my darling was pleased with this, and smiled upon me for
saying it; though she knew right well that, in this matter, my judgment
was not impartial. But you may take this as a general rule, that a woman
likes praise from the man whom she loves, and cannot stop always to
balance it.

Now expecting a sharp attack that night__when Jeremy Stickles the more
expected, after the words of Carver, which seemed to be meant to mislead
us__we prepared a great quantity of knuckles of pork, and a ham in full
cut, and a fillet of hung mutton. For we would almost surrender rather
than keep our garrison hungry. And all our men were exceedingly brave;
and counted their rounds of the house in half_pints.

Before the maidens went to bed, Lorna made a remark which seemed to me a
very clever one, and then I wondered how on earth it had never occurred
to me before. But first she had done a thing which I could not in the
least approve of: for she had gone up to my mother, and thrown herself
into her arms, and begged to be allowed to return to Glen Doone.

'My child, are you unhappy here?' mother asked her, very gently, for she
had begun to regard her now as a daughter of her own.

'Oh, no! Too happy, by far too happy, Mrs. Ridd. I never knew rest or
peace before, or met with real kindness. But I cannot be so ungrateful,
I cannot be so wicked, as to bring you all into deadly peril, for
my sake alone. Let me go: you must not pay this great price for my
happiness.'

'Dear child, we are paying no price at all,' replied my mother,
embracing her; 'we are not threatened for your sake only. Ask John,
he will tell you. He knows every bit about politics, and this is a
political matter.'

Dear mother was rather proud in her heart, as well as terribly
frightened, at the importance now accruing to Plover's Barrows farm;
and she often declared that it would be as famous in history as the Rye
House, or the Meal_tub, or even the great black box, in which she was a
firm believer: and even my knowledge of politics could not move her upon
that matter. 'Such things had happened before,' she would say, shaking
her head with its wisdom, 'and why might they not happen again? Women
would be women, and men would be men, to the end of the  Chapter; and if
she had been in Lucy Water's place, she would keep it quiet, as she
had done'; and then she would look round, for fear, lest either of her
daughters had heard her; 'but now, can you give me any reason, why it
may not have been so? You are so fearfully positive, John: just as men
always are.' 'No,' I used to say; 'I can give you no reason, why it may
not have been so, mother. But the question is, if it was so, or not;
rather than what it might have been. And, I think, it is pretty good
proof against it, that what nine men of every ten in England would
only too gladly believe, if true, is nevertheless kept dark from them.'
'There you are again, John,' mother would reply, 'all about men, and not
a single word about women. If you had any argument at all, you would own
that marriage is a question upon which women are the best judges.' 'Oh!'
I would groan in my spirit, and go; leaving my dearest mother quite
sure, that now at last she must have convinced me. But if mother had
known that Jeremy Stickles was working against the black box, and its
issue, I doubt whether he would have fared so well, even though he was
a visitor. However, she knew that something was doing and something of
importance; and she trusted in God for the rest of it. Only she used te
tell me, very seriously, of an evening, 'The very least they can give
you, dear John, is a coat of arms. Be sure you take nothing less, dear;
and the farm can well support it.'

But lo! I have left Lorna ever so long, anxious to consult me upon
political matters. She came to me, and her eyes alone asked a hundred
questions, which I rather had answered upon her lips than troubled her
pretty ears with them. Therefore I told her nothing at all, save that
the attack (if any should be) would not be made on her account; and that
if she should hear, by any chance, a trifle of a noise in the night, she
was to wrap the clothes around her, and shut her beautiful eyes again.
On no account, whatever she did, was she to go to the window. She liked
my expression about her eyes, and promised to do the very best she could
and then she crept so very close, that I needs must have her closer; and
with her head on my breast she asked,__

'Can't you keep out of this fight, John?'

'My own one,' I answered, gazing through the long black lashes, at the
depths of radiant love; 'I believe there will be nothing: but what there
is I must see out.'

'Shall I tell you what I think, John? It is only a fancy of mine, and
perhaps it is not worth telling.'

'Let us have it, dear, by all means. You know so much about their ways.'

'What I believe is this, John. You know how high the rivers are, higher
than ever they were before, and twice as high, you have told me. I
believe that Glen Doone is flooded, and all the houses under water.'

'You little witch,' I answered; 'what a fool I must be not to think
of it! Of course it is: it must be. The torrent from all the Bagworthy
forest, and all the valleys above it, and the great drifts in the glen
itself, never could have outlet down my famous waterslide. The valley
must be under water twenty feet at least. Well, if ever there was a
fool, I am he, for not having thought of it.'

'I remember once before,' said Lorna, reckoning on her fingers, 'when
there was heavy rain, all through the autumn and winter, five or it may
be six years ago, the river came down with such a rush that the
water was two feet deep in our rooms, and we all had to camp by the
cliff_edge. But you think that the floods are higher now, I believe I
heard you say, John.'

'I don't think about it, my treasure,' I answered; 'you may trust me for
understanding floods, after our work at Tiverton. And I know that the
deluge in all our valleys is such that no living man can remember,
neither will ever behold again. Consider three months of snow, snow,
snow, and a fortnight of rain on the top of it, and all to be drained
in a few days away! And great barricades of ice still in the rivers
blocking them up, and ponding them. You may take my word for it,
Mistress Lorna, that your pretty bower is six feet deep.'

'Well, my bower has served its time', said Lorna, blushing as she
remembered all that had happened there; 'and my bower now is here, John.
But I am so sorry to think of all the poor women flooded out of their
houses and sheltering in the snowdrifts. However, there is one good of
it: they cannot send many men against us, with all this trouble upon
them.'

'You are right,' I replied; 'how clever you are! and that is why there
were only three to cut off Master Stickles. And now we shall beat them,
I make no doubt, even if they come at all. And I defy them to fire the
house: the thatch is too wet for burning.'

We sent all the women to bed quite early, except Gwenny Carfax and our
old Betty. These two we allowed to stay up, because they might be useful
to us, if they could keep from quarreling. For my part, I had little
fear, after what Lorna had told me, as to the result of the combat. It
was not likely that the Doones could bring more than eight or ten men
against us, while their homes were in such danger: and to meet these
we had eight good men, including Jeremy, and myself, all well armed and
resolute, besides our three farm_servants, and the parish_clerk, and the
shoemaker. These five could not be trusted much for any valiant conduct,
although they spoke very confidently over their cans of cider. Neither
were their weapons fitted for much execution, unless it were at close
quarters, which they would be likely to avoid. Bill Dadds had a sickle,
Jem Slocombe a flail, the cobbler had borrowed the constable's staff
(for the constable would not attend, because there was no warrant), and
the parish clerk had brought his pitch_pipe, which was enough to break
any man's head. But John Fry, of course, had his blunderbuss, loaded
with tin_tacks and marbles, and more likely to kill the man who
discharged it than any other person: but we knew that John had it only
for show, and to describe its qualities.

Now it was my great desire, and my chiefest hope, to come across Carver
Doone that night, and settle the score between us; not by any shot
in the dark, but by a conflict man to man. As yet, since I came to
full_grown power, I had never met any one whom I could not play teetotum
with: but now at last I had found a man whose strength was not to be
laughed at. I could guess it in his face, I could tell it in his arms, I
could see it in his stride and gait, which more than all the rest betray
the substance of a man. And being so well used to wrestling, and to
judge antagonists, I felt that here (if anywhere) I had found my match.

Therefore I was not content to abide within the house, or go the rounds
with the troopers; but betook myself to the rick yard, knowing that the
Doones were likely to begin their onset there. For they had a pleasant
custom, when they visited farm_houses, of lighting themselves towards
picking up anything they wanted, or stabbing the inhabitants, by first
creating a blaze in the rick yard. And though our ricks were all now of
mere straw (except indeed two of prime clover_hay), and although on
the top they were so wet that no firebrands might hurt them; I was both
unwilling to have them burned, and fearful that they might kindle, if
well roused up with fire upon the windward side.

By the bye, these Doones had got the worst of this pleasant trick
one time. For happening to fire the ricks of a lonely farm called
Yeanworthy, not far above Glenthorne, they approached the house to get
people's goods, and to enjoy their terror. The master of the farm was
lately dead, and had left, inside the clock_case, loaded, the great long
gun, wherewith he had used to sport at the ducks and the geese on the
shore. Now Widow Fisher took out this gun, and not caring much what
became of her (for she had loved her husband dearly), she laid it upon
the window_sill, which looked upon the rick_yard; and she backed up the
butt with a chest of oak drawers, and she opened the window a little
back, and let the muzzle out on the slope. Presently five or six fine
young Doones came dancing a reel (as their manner was) betwixt her and
the flaming rick. Upon which she pulled the trigger with all the force
of her thumb, and a quarter of a pound of duck_shot went out with a
blaze on the dancers. You may suppose what their dancing was, and their
reeling how changed to staggering, and their music none of the sweetest.
One of them fell into the rick, and was burned, and buried in a ditch
next day; but the others were set upon their horses, and carried home
on a path of blood. And strange to say, they never avenged this very
dreadful injury; but having heard that a woman had fired this desperate
shot among them, they said that she ought to be a Doone, and inquired
how old she was.

Now I had not been so very long waiting in our mow_yard, with my best
gun ready, and a big club by me, before a heaviness of sleep began to
creep upon me. The flow of water was in my ears, and in my eyes a hazy
spreading, and upon my brain a closure, as a cobbler sews a vamp up. So
I leaned back in the clover_rick, and the dust of the seed and the smell
came round me, without any trouble; and I dozed about Lorna, just once
or twice, and what she had said about new_mown hay; and then back went
my head, and my chin went up; and if ever a man was blest with slumber,
down it came upon me, and away went I into it.

Now this was very vile of me, and against all good resolutions, even
such as I would have sworn to an hour ago or less. But if you had been
in the water as I had, ay, and had long fight with it, after a good
day's work, and then great anxiety afterwards, and brain_work (which is
not fair for me), and upon that a stout supper, mayhap you would not be
so hard on my sleep; though you felt it your duty to wake me.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 49

MAIDEN SENTINELS ARE BEST

It was not likely that the outlaws would attack out premises until some
time after the moon was risen; because it would be too dangerous to
cross the flooded valleys in the darkness of the night. And but for this
consideration, I must have striven harder against the stealthy
approach of slumber. But even so, it was very foolish to abandon watch,
especially in such as I, who sleep like any dormouse. Moreover, I had
chosen the very worst place in the world for such employment, with a
goodly chance of awakening in a bed of solid fire.

And so it might have been, nay, it must have been, but for Lorna's
vigilance. Her light hand upon my arm awoke me, not too readily; and
leaping up, I seized my club, and prepared to knock down somebody.

'Who's that?' I cried; 'stand back, I say, and let me have fair chance
at you.'

'Are you going to knock me down, dear John?' replied the voice I loved
so well; 'I am sure I should never get up again, after one blow from
you, John.'

'My darling, is it you?' I cried; 'and breaking all your orders? Come
back into the house at once: and nothing on your head, dear!'

'How could I sleep, while at any moment you might be killed beneath my
window? And now is the time of real danger; for men can see to travel.'

I saw at once the truth of this. The moon was high and clearly lighting
all the watered valleys. To sleep any longer might be death, not only to
myself, but all.

'The man on guard at the back of the house is fast asleep,' she
continued; 'Gwenny, who let me out, and came with me, has heard him
snoring for two hours. I think the women ought to be the watch, because
they have had no travelling. Where do you suppose little Gwenny is?'

'Surely not gone to Glen Doone?' I was not sure, however: for I could
believe almost anything of the Cornish maiden's hardihood.

'No,' replied Lorna, 'although she wanted even to do that. But of course
I would not hear of it, on account of the swollen waters. But she is
perched on yonder tree, which commands the Barrow valley. She says that
they are almost sure to cross the streamlet there; and now it is so wide
and large, that she can trace it in the moonlight, half a mile beyond
her. If they cross, she is sure to see them, and in good time to let us
know.'

'What a shame,' I cried, 'that the men should sleep, and the maidens
be the soldiers! I will sit in that tree myself, and send little Gwenny
back to you. Go to bed, my best and dearest; I will take good care not
to sleep again.'

'Please not to send me away, dear John,' she answered very mournfully;
'you and I have been together through perils worse than this. I shall
only be more timid, and more miserable, indoors.'

'I cannot let you stay here,' I said; 'it is altogether impossible. Do
you suppose that I can fight, with you among the bullets, Lorna? If this
is the way you mean to take it, we had better go both to the apple_room,
and lock ourselves in, and hide under the tiles, and let them burn all
the rest of the premises.'

At this idea Lorna laughed, as I could see by the moonlight; and then
she said,__

'You are right, John. I should only do more harm than good: and of all
things I hate fighting most, and disobedience next to it. Therefore I
will go indoors, although I cannot go to bed. But promise me one thing,
dearest John. You will keep yourself out of the way, now won't you, as
much as you can, for my sake?'

'Of that you may be quite certain, Lorna. I will shoot them all through
the hay_ricks.'

'That is right, dear,' she answered, never doubting but what I could do
it; 'and then they cannot see you, you know. But don't think of climbing
that tree, John; it is a great deal too dangerous. It is all very well
for Gwenny; she has no bones to break.'

'None worth breaking, you mean, I suppose. Very well; I will not climb
the tree, for I should defeat my own purpose, I fear; being such a
conspicuous object. Now go indoors, darling, without more words. The
more you linger, the more I shall keep you.'

She laughed her own bright laugh at this, and only said, 'God keep you,
love!' and then away she tripped across the yard, with the step I loved
to watch so. And thereupon I shouldered arms, and resolved to tramp till
morning. For I was vexed at my own neglect, and that Lorna should have
to right it.

But before I had been long on duty, making the round of the ricks and
stables, and hailing Gwenny now and then from the bottom of her tree,
a short wide figure stole towards me, in and out the shadows, and I saw
that it was no other than the little maid herself, and that she bore
some tidings.

'Ten on 'em crossed the watter down yonner,' said Gwenny, putting her
hand to her mouth, and seeming to regard it as good news rather than
otherwise: 'be arl craping up by hedgerow now. I could shutt dree on 'em
from the bar of the gate, if so be I had your goon, young man.'

'There is no time to lose, Gwenny. Run to the house and fetch Master
Stickles, and all the men; while I stay here, and watch the rick_yard.'

Perhaps I was wrong in heeding the ricks at such a time as that;
especially as only the clover was of much importance. But it seemed
to me like a sort of triumph that they should be even able to boast of
having fired our mow_yard. Therefore I stood in a nick of the clover,
whence we had cut some trusses, with my club in hand, and gun close by.

The robbers rode into our yard as coolly as if they had been invited,
having lifted the gate from the hinges first on account of its being
fastened. Then they actually opened our stable_doors, and turned our
honest horses out, and put their own rogues in the place of them. At
this my breath was quite taken away; for we think so much of our horses.
By this time I could see our troopers, waiting in the shadow of the
house, round the corner from where the Doones were, and expecting the
order to fire. But Jeremy Stickles very wisely kept them in readiness,
until the enemy should advance upon them.

'Two of you lazy fellows go,' it was the deep voice of Carver Doone,
'and make us a light, to cut their throats by. Only one thing, once
again. If any man touches Lorna, I will stab him where he stands. She
belongs to me. There are two other young damsels here, whom you may take
away if you please. And the mother, I hear, is still comely. Now for our
rights. We have borne too long the insolence of these yokels. Kill every
man, and every child, and burn the cursed place down.'

As he spoke thus blasphemously, I set my gun against his breast; and
by the light buckled from his belt, I saw the little 'sight' of brass
gleaming alike upon either side, and the sleek round barrel glimmering.
The aim was sure as death itself. If I only drew the trigger (which
went very lighily) Carver Doone would breathe no more. And yet__will you
believe me?__I could not pull the trigger. Would to God that I had done
so!

For I never had taken human life, neither done bodily harm to man;
beyond the little bruises, and the trifling aches and pains, which
follow a good and honest bout in the wrestling ring. Therefore I
dropped my carbine, and grasped again my club, which seemed a more
straight_forward implement.

Presently two young men came towards me, bearing brands of resined hemp,
kindled from Carver's lamp. The foremost of them set his torch to the
rick within a yard of me, and smoke concealing me from him. I struck
him with a back_handed blow on the elbow, as he bent it; and I heard the
bone of his arm break, as clearly as ever I heard a twig snap. With a
roar of pain he fell on the ground, and his torch dropped there, and
singed him. The other man stood amazed at this, not having yet gained
sight of me; till I caught his firebrand from his hand, and struck it
into his countenance. With that he leaped at me; but I caught him, in a
manner learned from early wrestling, and snapped his collar_bone, as I
laid him upon the top of his comrade.

This little success so encouraged me, that I was half inclined to
advance, and challenge Carver Doone to meet me; but I bore in mind that
he would be apt to shoot me without ceremony; and what is the utmost of
human strength against the power of powder? Moreover, I remembered my
promise to sweet Lorna; and who would be left to defend her, if the
rogues got rid of me?

While I was hesitating thus (for I always continue to hesitate, except
in actual conflict), a blaze of fire lit up the house, and brown smoke
hung around it. Six of our men had let go at the Doones, by Jeremy
Stickles' order, as the villains came swaggering down in the moonlight
ready for rape or murder. Two of them fell, and the rest hung back, to
think at their leisure what this was. They were not used to this sort of
thing: it was neither just nor courteous.

Being unable any longer to contain myself, as I thought of Lorna's
excitement at all this noise of firing, I came across the yard,
expecting whether they would shoot at me. However, no one shot at me;
and I went up to Carver Doone, whom I knew by his size in the moonlight,
and I took him by the beard, and said, 'Do you call yourself a man?'

For a moment he was so astonished that he could not answer. None had
ever dared, I suppose, to look at him in that way; and he saw that he
had met his equal, or perhaps his master. And then he tried a pistol at
me, but I was too quick for him.

'Now, Carver Doone, take warning,' I said to him, very soberly; 'you
have shown yourself a fool by your contempt of me. I may not be your
match in craft; but I am in manhood. You are a despicable villain. Lie
low in your native muck.'

And with that word, I laid him flat upon his back in our straw_yard, by
a trick of the inner heel, which he could not have resisted (though his
strength had been twice as great as mine), unless he were a wrestler.
Seeing him down the others ran, though one of them made a shot at me,
and some of them got their horses, before our men came up; and some went
away without them. And among these last was Captain Carver who arose,
while I was feeling myself (for I had a little wound), and strode away
with a train of curses enough to poison the light of the moon.

We gained six very good horses, by this attempted rapine, as well as
two young prisoners, whom I had smitten by the clover_rick. And two
dead Doones were left behind, whom (as we buried them in the churchyard,
without any service over them), I for my part was most thankful that
I had not killed. For to have the life of a fellow_man laid upon one's
conscience__deserved he his death, or deserved it not__is to my sense of
right and wrong the heaviest of all burdens; and the one that wears most
deeply inwards, with the dwelling of the mind on this view and on that
of it.

I was inclined to pursue the enemy and try to capture more of them; but
Jeremy Stickles would not allow it, for he said that all the advantage
would be upon their side, if we went hurrying after them, with only the
moon to guide us. And who could tell but what there might be another
band of them, ready to fall upon the house, and burn it, and seize the
women, if we left them unprotected? When he put the case thus, I was
glad enough to abide by his decision. And one thing was quite certain,
that the Doones had never before received so rude a shock, and so
violent a blow to their supremacy, since first they had built up their
power, and become the Lords of Exmoor. I knew that Carver Doone would
gnash those mighty teeth of his, and curse the men around him, for
the blunder (which was in truth his own) of over_confidence and
carelessness. And at the same time, all the rest would feel that such a
thing had never happened, while old Sir Ensor was alive; and that it was
caused by nothing short of gross mismanagement.

I scarcely know who made the greatest fuss about my little wound,
mother, or Annie, or Lorna. I was heartily ashamed to be so treated like
a milksop; but most unluckily it had been impossible to hide it. For the
ball had cut along my temple, just above the eyebrow; and being fired so
near at hand, the powder too had scarred me. Therefore it seemed a great
deal worse than it really was; and the sponging, and the plastering,
and the sobbing, and the moaning, made me quite ashamed to look Master
Stickles in the face.

However, at last I persuaded them that I had no intention of giving up
the ghost that night; and then they all fell to, and thanked God with an
emphasis quite unknown in church. And hereupon Master Stickles said, in
his free and easy manner (for no one courted his observation), that I
was the luckiest of all mortals in having a mother, and a sister, and
a sweetheart, to make much of me. For his part, he said, he was just as
well off in not having any to care for him. For now he might go and get
shot, or stabbed, or knocked on the head, at his pleasure, without any
one being offended. I made bold, upon this, to ask him what was become
of his wife; for I had heard him speak of having one. He said that he
neither knew nor cared; and perhaps I should be like him some day.
That Lorna should hear such sentiments was very grievous to me. But she
looked at me with a smile, which proved her contempt for all such
ideas; and lest anything still more unfit might be said, I dismissed the
question.

But Master Stickles told me afterwards, when there was no one with us,
to have no faith in any woman, whatever she might seem to be. For he
assured me that now he possessed very large experience, for so small
a matter; being thoroughly acquainted with women of every class, from
ladies of the highest blood, to Bonarobas, and peasants' wives: and that
they all might be divided into three heads and no more; that is to
say as follows. First, the very hot and passionate, who were only
contemptible; second, the cold and indifferent, who were simply odious;
and third, the mixture of the other two, who had the bad qualities of
both. As for reason, none of them had it; it was like a sealed book to
them, which if they ever tried to open, they began at the back of the
cover.

Now I did not like to hear such things; and to me they appeared to be
insolent, as well as narrow_minded. For if you came to that, why might
not men, as well as women, be divided into the same three classes,
and be pronounced upon by women, as beings even more devoid than their
gentle judges of reason? Moreover, I knew, both from my own sense, and
from the greatest of all great poets, that there are, and always have
been, plenty of women, good, and gentle, warm_hearted, loving, and
lovable; very keen, moreover, at seeing the right, be it by reason, or
otherwise. And upon the whole, I prefer them much to the people of my
own sex, as goodness of heart is more important than to show good reason
for having it. And so I said to Jeremy,__

'You have been ill_treated, perhaps, Master Stickles, by some woman or
other?'

'Ah, that have I,' he replied with an oath; 'and the last on earth who
should serve me so, the woman who was my wife. A woman whom I never
struck, never wronged in any way, never even let her know that I like
another better. And yet when I was at Berwick last, with the regiment
on guard there against those vile moss_troopers, what does that woman
do but fly in the face of all authority, and of my especial business, by
running away herself with the biggest of all moss_troopers? Not that I
cared a groat about her; and I wish the fool well rid of her: but the
insolence of the thing was such that everybody laughed at me; and back
I went to London, losing a far better and safer job than this; and all
through her. Come, let's have another onion.'

Master Stickles's view of the matter was so entirely unromantic, that I
scarcely wondered at Mistress Stickles for having run away from him to
an adventurous moss_trooper. For nine women out of ten must have some
kind of romance or other, to make their lives endurable; and when their
love has lost this attractive element, this soft dew_fog (if such
it be), the love itself is apt to languish; unless its bloom be well
replaced by the budding hopes of children. Now Master Stickles neither
had, nor wished to have, any children.

Without waiting for any warrant, only saying something about 'captus in
flagrante delicto,'__if that be the way to spell it__Stickles sent our
prisoners off, bound and looking miserable, to the jail at Taunton. I
was desirous to let them go free, if they would promise amendment; but
although I had taken them, and surely therefore had every right to let
them go again, Master Stickles said, 'Not so.' He assured me that it was
a matter of public polity; and of course, not knowing what he meant,
I could not contradict him; but thought that surely my private rights
ought to be respected. For if I throw a man in wrestling, I expect to
get his stakes; and if I take a man prisoner__why, he ought, in common
justice, to belong to me, and I have a good right to let him go, if I
think proper to do so. However, Master Stickles said that I was quite
benighted, and knew nothing of the Constitution; which was the very
thing I knew, beyond any man in our parish!

Nevertheless, it was not for me to contradict a commissioner; and
therefore I let my prisoners go, and wished them a happy deliverance.
Stickles replied, with a merry grin, that if ever they got it, it would
be a jail deliverance, and the bliss of dancing; and he laid his hand to
his throat in a manner which seemed to me most uncourteous. However, his
foresight proved too correct; for both those poor fellows were executed,
soon after the next assizes. Lorna had done her very best to earn
another chance for them; even going down on her knees to that common
Jeremy, and pleading with great tears for them. However, although much
moved by her, he vowed that he durst do nothing else. To set them free
was more than his own life was worth; for all the country knew, by this
time, that two captive Doones were roped to the cider_press at Plover's
Barrows. Annie bound the broken arm of the one whom I had knocked down
with the club, and I myself supported it; and then she washed and
rubbed with lard the face of the other poor fellow, which the torch had
injured; and I fetched back his collar_bone to the best of my ability.
For before any surgeon could arrive, they were off with a well_armed
escort. That day we were reinforced so strongly from the stations along
the coast, even as far as Minehead, that we not only feared no further
attack, but even talked of assaulting Glen Doone, without waiting
for the train_bands. However, I thought that it would be mean to take
advantage of the enemy in the thick of the floods and confusion; and
several of the others thought so too, and did not like fighting in
water. Therefore it was resolved to wait and keep a watch upon the
valley, and let the floods go down again.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 50

A MERRY MEETING A SAD ONE

Now the business I had most at heart (as every one knows by this time)
was to marry Lorna as soon as might be, if she had no objection, and
then to work the farm so well, as to nourish all our family. And herein
I saw no difficulty; for Annie would soon be off our hands, and somebody
might come and take a fancy to little Lizzie (who was growing up very
nicely now, though not so fine as Annie); moreover, we were almost sure
to have great store of hay and corn after so much snow, if there be any
truth in the old saying,__

"A foot deep of rain Will kill hay and grain; But three feet of snow
Will make them come mo'."

And although it was too true that we had lost a many cattle, yet even so
we had not lost money; for the few remaining fetched such prices as
were never known before. And though we grumbled with all our hearts,
and really believed, at one time, that starvation was upon us, I doubt
whether, on the whole, we were not the fatter, and the richer, and the
wiser for that winter. And I might have said the happier, except for the
sorrow which we felt at the failures among our neighbours. The Snowes
lost every sheep they had, and nine out of ten horned cattle; and poor
Jasper Kebby would have been forced to throw up the lease of his farm,
and perhaps to go to prison, but for the help we gave him.

However, my dear mother would have it that Lorna was too young, as yet,
to think of being married: and indeed I myself was compelled to admit
that her form was becoming more perfect and lovely; though I had not
thought it possible. And another difficulty was, that as we had all
been Protestants from the time of Queen Elizabeth, the maiden must be
converted first, and taught to hate all Papists. Now Lorna had not the
smallest idea of ever being converted. She said that she loved me truly,
but wanted not to convert me; and if I loved her equally, why should I
wish to convert her? With this I was tolerably content, not seeing so
very much difference between a creed and a credo, and believing God to
be our Father, in Latin as well as English. Moreover, my darling knew
but little of the Popish ways__whether excellent or otherwise__inasmuch
as the Doones, though they stole their houses, or at least the joiner's
work, had never been tempted enough by the devil to steal either church
or chapel.

Lorna came to our little church, when Parson Bowden reappeared after the
snow was over; and she said that all was very nice, and very like what
she had seen in the time of her Aunt Sabina, when they went far away to
the little chapel, with a shilling in their gloves. It made the tears
come into her eyes, by the force of memory, when Parson Bowden did the
things, not so gracefully nor so well, yet with pleasant imitation of
her old Priest's sacred rites.

'He is a worthy man,' she said, being used to talk in the service time,
and my mother was obliged to cough: 'I like him very much indeed: but I
wish he would let me put his things the right way on his shoulders.'

Everybody in our parish, who could walk at all, or hire a boy and a
wheelbarrow, ay, and half the folk from Countisbury, Brendon, and even
Lynmouth, was and were to be found that Sunday, in our little church
of Oare. People who would not come anigh us, when the Doones were
threatening with carbine and with fire_brand, flocked in their very best
clothes, to see a lady Doone go to church. Now all this came of that
vile John Fry; I knew it as well as possible; his tongue was worse than
the clacker of a charity_school bell, or the ladle in the frying_pan,
when the bees are swarming.

However, Lorna was not troubled; partly because of her natural dignity
and gentleness; partly because she never dreamed that the people were
come to look at her. But when we came to the Psalms of the day, with
some vague sense of being stared at more than ought to be, she dropped
the heavy black lace fringing of the velvet hat she wore, and concealed
from the congregation all except her bright red lips, and the oval
snowdrift of her chin. I touched her hand, and she pressed mine; and we
felt that we were close together, and God saw no harm in it.

As for Parson Bowden (as worthy a man as ever lived, and one who could
shoot flying), he scarcely knew what he was doing, without the clerk to
help him. He had borne it very well indeed, when I returned from London;
but to see a live Doone in his church, and a lady Doone, and a lovely
Doone, moreover one engaged to me, upon whom he almost looked as the
Squire of his parish (although not rightly an Armiger), and to feel that
this lovely Doone was a Papist, and therefore of higher religion__as all
our parsons think__and that she knew exactly how he ought to do all
the service, of which he himself knew little; I wish to express my firm
belief that all these things together turned Parson Bowden's head a
little, and made him look to me for orders.

My mother, the very best of women, was (as I could well perceive) a
little annoyed and vexed with things. For this particular occasion,
she had procured from Dulverton, by special message to Ruth Huckaback
(whereof more anon), a head_dress with a feather never seen before upon
Exmoor, to the best of every one's knowledge. It came from a bird
called a flaming something__a flaming oh, or a flaming ah, I will not be
positive__but I can assure you that it did flame; and dear mother had no
other thought, but that all the congregation would neither see nor think
of any other mortal thing, or immortal even, to the very end of the
sermon.

Herein she was so disappointed, that no sooner did she get home, but
upstairs she went at speed, not even stopping at the mirror in our
little parlour, and flung the whole thing into a cupboard, as I knew by
the bang of the door, having eased the lock for her lately. Lorna saw
there was something wrong; and she looked at Annie and Lizzie (as more
likely to understand it) with her former timid glance; which I knew so
well, and which had first enslaved me.

'I know not what ails mother,' said Annie, who looked very beautiful,
with lilac lute_string ribbons, which I saw the Snowe girls envying;
'but she has not attended to one of the prayers, nor said "Amen," all
the morning. Never fear, darling Lorna, it is nothing about you. It is
something about our John, I am sure; for she never worries herself very
much about anybody but him.' And here Annie made a look at me, such as I
had had five hundred of.

'You keep your opinions to yourself,' I replied; because I knew the
dear, and her little bits of jealousy; 'it happens that you are quite
wrong, this time. Lorna, come with me, my darling.'

'Oh yes, Lorna; go with him,' cried Lizzie, dropping her lip, in a way
which you must see to know its meaning; 'John wants nobody now but you;
and none can find fault with his taste, dear.'

'You little fool, I should think not,' I answered, very rudely; for,
betwixt the lot of them, my Lorna's eyelashes were quivering; 'now,
dearest angel, come with me; and snap your hands at the whole of them.'

My angel did come, with a sigh, and then with a smile, when we were
alone; but without any unangelic attempt at snapping her sweet white
fingers.

These little things are enough to show that while every one so admired
Lorna, and so kindly took to her, still there would, just now and then,
be petty and paltry flashes of jealousy concerning her; and perhaps
it could not be otherwise among so many women. However, we were always
doubly kind to her afterwards; and although her mind was so sensitive
and quick that she must have suffered, she never allowed us to perceive
it, nor lowered herself by resenting it.

Possibly I may have mentioned that little Ruth Huckaback had been asked,
and had even promised to spend her Christmas with us; and this was the
more desirable, because she had left us through some offence, or sorrow,
about things said of her. Now my dear mother, being the kindest and
best_hearted of all women, could not bear that poor dear Ruth (who would
some day have such a fortune), should be entirely lost to us. 'It is our
duty, my dear children,' she said more than once about it, 'to forgive
and forget, as freely as we hope to have it done to us. If dear little
Ruth has not behaved quite as we might have expected, great allowance
should be made for a girl with so much money. Designing people get hold
of her, and flatter her, and coax her, to obtain a base influence over
her; so that when she falls among simple folk, who speak the honest
truth of her, no wonder the poor child is vexed, and gives herself airs,
and so on. Ruth can be very useful to us in a number of little ways; and
I consider it quite a duty to pardon her freak of petulance.'

Now one of the little ways in which Ruth had been very useful, was the
purchase of the scarlet feathers of the flaming bird; and now that
the house was quite safe from attack, and the mark on my forehead was
healing, I was begged, over and over again, to go and see Ruth, and make
all things straight, and pay for the gorgeous plumage. This last I was
very desirous to do, that I might know the price of it, having made
a small bet on the subject with Annie; and having held counsel with
myself, whether or not it were possible to get something of the kind for
Lorna, of still more distinguished appearance. Of course she could not
wear scarlet as yet, even if I had wished it; but I believed that people
of fashion often wore purple for mourning; purple too was the royal
colour, and Lorna was by right a queen; therefore I was quite resolved
to ransack Uncle Reuben's stores, in search of some bright purple bird,
if nature had kindly provided one.

All this, however, I kept to myself, intending to trust Ruth Huckaback,
and no one else in the matter. And so, one beautiful spring morning,
when all the earth was kissed with scent, and all the air caressed with
song, up the lane I stoutly rode, well armed, and well provided.

Now though it is part of my life to heed, it is no part of my tale to
tell, how the wheat was coming on. I reckon that you, who read this
story, after I am dead and gone (and before that none shall read it),
will say, 'Tush! What is his wheat to us? We are not wheat: we are human
beings: and all we care for is human doings.' This may be very good
argument, and in the main, I believe that it is so. Nevertheless, if a
man is to tell only what he thought and did, and not what came around
him, he must not mention his own clothes, which his father and mother
bought for him. And more than my own clothes to me, ay, and as much as
my own skin, are the works of nature round about, whereof a man is the
smallest.

And now I will tell you, although most likely only to be laughed at,
because I cannot put it in the style of Mr. Dryden__whom to compare to
Shakespeare! but if once I begin upon that, you will never hear the last
of me__nevertheless, I will tell you this; not wishing to be rude, but
only just because I know it; the more a man can fling his arms (so
to say) round Nature's neck, the more he can upon her bosom, like an
infant, lie and suck,__the more that man shall earn the trust and love
of all his fellow men.

In this matter is no jealousy (when the man is dead); because thereafter
all others know how much of the milk be had; and he can suck no longer;
and they value him accordingly, for the nourishment he is to them. Even
as when we keep a roaster of the sucking_pigs, we choose, and praise at
table most, the favourite of its mother. Fifty times have I seen this,
and smiled, and praised our people's taste, and offered them more of the
vitals.

Now here am I upon Shakespeare (who died, of his own fruition, at the
age of fifty_two, yet lived more than fifty thousand men, within his
little span of life), when all the while I ought to be riding as hard as
I can to Dulverton. But, to tell the truth, I could not ride hard, being
held at every turn, and often without any turn at all, by the beauty
of things around me. These things grow upon a man if once he stops to
notice them.

It wanted yet two hours to noon, when I came to Master Huckaback's door,
and struck the panels smartly. Knowing nothing of their manners, only
that people in a town could not be expected to entertain (as we do in
farm_houses), having, moreover, keen expectation of Master Huckaback's
avarice, I had brought some stuff to eat, made by Annie, and packed by
Lorna, and requiring no thinking about it.

Ruth herself came and let me in, blushing very heartily; for which
colour I praised her health, and my praises heightened it. That little
thing had lovely eyes, and could be trusted thoroughly. I do like an
obstinate little woman, when she is sure that she is right. And indeed
if love had never sped me straight to the heart of Lorna (compared to
whom, Ruth was no more than the thief is to the candle), who knows but
what I might have yielded to the law of nature, that thorough trimmer of
balances, and verified the proverb that the giant loves the dwarf?

'I take the privilege, Mistress Ruth, of saluting you according to
kinship, and the ordering of the Canons.' And therewith I bussed her
well, and put my arm around her waist, being so terribly restricted in
the matter of Lorna, and knowing the use of practice. Not that I had any
warmth__all that was darling Lorna's__only out of pure gallantry, and my
knowledge of London fashions. Ruth blushed to such a pitch at this, and
looked up at me with such a gleam; as if I must have my own way; that
all my love of kissing sunk, and I felt that I was wronging her. Only
my mother had told me, when the girls were out of the way, to do all I
could to please darling Ruth, and I had gone about it accordingly.

Now Ruth as yet had never heard a word about dear Lorna; and when she
led me into the kitchen (where everything looked beautiful), and told me
not to mind, for a moment, about the scrubbing of my boots, because she
would only be too glad to clean it all up after me, and told me how glad
she was to see me, blushing more at every word, and recalling some of
them, and stooping down for pots and pans, when I looked at her too
ruddily__all these things came upon me so, without any legal notice,
that I could only look at Ruth, and think how very good she was, and how
bright her handles were; and wonder if I had wronged her. Once or twice,
I began__this I say upon my honour__to endeavour to explain exactly, how
we were at Plover's Barrows; how we all had been bound to fight, and had
defeated the enemy, keeping their queen amongst us. But Ruth would
make some great mistake between Lorna and Gwenny Carfax, and gave me no
chance to set her aright, and cared about nothing much, except some news
of Sally Snowe.

What could I do with this little thing? All my sense of modesty, and
value for my dinner, were against my over_pressing all the graceful
hints I had given about Lorna. Ruth was just a girl of that sort, who
will not believe one word, except from her own seeing; not so much
from any doubt, as from the practice of using eyes which have been in
business.

I asked Cousin Ruth (as we used to call her, though the cousinship was
distant) what was become of Uncle Ben, and how it was that we never
heard anything of or from him now. She replied that she hardly knew
what to make of her grandfather's manner of carrying on, for the last
half_year or more. He was apt to leave his home, she said, at any hour
of the day or night; going none knew whither, and returning no one
might say when. And his dress, in her opinion, was enough to frighten
a hodman, of a scavenger of the roads, instead of the decent suit
of kersey, or of Sabbath doeskins, such as had won the respect and
reverence of his fellow_townsmen. But the worst of all things was, as
she confessed with tears in her eyes, that the poor old gentleman had
something weighing heavily on his mind.

'It will shorten his days, Cousin Ridd,' she said, for she never would
call me Cousin John; 'he has no enjoyment of anything that he eats or
drinks, nor even in counting his money, as he used to do all Sunday;
indeed no pleasure in anything, unless it be smoking his pipe, and
thinking and staring at bits of brown stone, which he pulls, every now
and then, out of his pockets. And the business he used to take such
pride in is now left almost entirely to the foreman, and to me.'

'And what will become of you, dear Ruth, if anything happens to the old
man?'

'I am sure I know not,' she answered simply; 'and I cannot bear to think
of it. It must depend, I suppose, upon dear grandfather's pleasure about
me.'

'It must rather depend,' said I, though having no business to say it,
'upon your own good pleasure, Ruth; for all the world will pay court to
you.'

'That is the very thing which I never could endure. I have begged dear
grandfather to leave no chance of that. When he has threatened me with
poverty, as he does sometimes, I have always met him truly, with the
answer that I feared one thing a great deal worse than poverty; namely,
to be an heiress. But I cannot make him believe it. Only think how
strange, Cousin Ridd, I cannot make him believe it.'

'It is not strange at all,' I answered; 'considering how he values
money. Neither would any one else believe you, except by looking into
your true, and very pretty eyes, dear.'

Now I beg that no one will suspect for a single moment, either that I
did not mean exactly what I said, or meant a single atom more, or would
not have said the same, if Lorna had been standing by. What I had always
liked in Ruth, was the calm, straightforward gaze, and beauty of her
large brown eyes. Indeed I had spoken of them to Lorna, as the only ones
to be compared (though not for more than a moment) to her own, for truth
and light, but never for depth and softness. But now the little maiden
dropped them, and turned away, without reply.

'I will go and see to my horse,' I said; 'the boy that has taken him
seemed surprised at his having no horns on his forehead. Perhaps he will
lead him into the shop, and feed him upon broadcloth.'

'Oh, he is such a stupid boy,' Ruth answered with great sympathy: 'how
quick of you to observe that now: and you call yourself "Slow John
Ridd!" I never did see such a stupid boy: sometimes he spoils my temper.
But you must be back in half an hour, at the latest, Cousin Ridd. You
see I remember what you are; when once you get among horses, or cows, or
things of that sort.'

'Things of that sort! Well done, Ruth! One would think you were quite a
Cockney.'

Uncle Reuben did not come home to his dinner; and his granddaughter said
she had strictest orders never to expect him. Therefore we had none to
dine with us, except the foreman of the shop, a worthy man, named
Thomas Cockram, fifty years of age or so. He seemed to me to have strong
intentions of his own about little Ruth, and on that account to regard
me with a wholly undue malevolence. And perhaps, in order to justify
him, I may have been more attentive to her than otherwise need have
been; at any rate, Ruth and I were pleasant; and he the very opposite.

'My dear Cousin Ruth,' I said, on purpose to vex Master Cockram, because
he eyed us so heavily, and squinted to unluckily, 'we have long been
looking for you at our Plover's Barrows farm. You remember how you used
to love hunting for eggs in the morning, and hiding up in the tallat
with Lizzie, for me to seek you among the hay, when the sun was down.
Ah, Master Cockram, those are the things young people find
their pleasure in, not in selling a yard of serge, and giving
twopence_halfpenny change, and writing "settled" at the bottom, with a
pencil that has blacked their teeth. Now, Master Cockram, you ought to
come as far as our good farm, at once, and eat two new_laid eggs for
breakfast, and be made to look quite young again. Our good Annie would
cook for you; and you should have the hot new milk and the pope's eye
from the mutton; and every foot of you would become a yard in about a
fortnight.' And hereupon, I spread my chest, to show him an example.
Ruth could not keep her countenance: but I saw that she thought it wrong
of me; and would scold me, if ever I gave her the chance of taking those
little liberties. However, he deserved it all, according to my young
ideas, for his great impertinence in aiming at my cousin.

But what I said was far less grievous to a man of honest mind than
little Ruth's own behaviour. I could hardly have believed that so
thoroughly true a girl, and one so proud and upright, could have got rid
of any man so cleverly as she got rid of Master Thomas Cockram. She gave
him not even a glass of wine, but commended to his notice, with a sweet
and thoughtful gravity, some invoice which must be corrected, before her
dear grandfather should return; and to amend which three great ledgers
must be searched from first to last. Thomas Cockram winked at me, with
the worst of his two wrong eyes; as much as to say, 'I understand it;
but I cannot help myself. Only you look out, if ever'__and before he had
finished winking, the door was shut behind him. Then Ruth said to me in
the simplest manner, 'You have ridden far today, Cousin Ridd; and have
far to ride to get home again. What will dear Aunt Ridd say, if we send
you away without nourishment? All the keys are in my keeping, and
dear grandfather has the finest wine, not to be matched in the west of
England, as I have heard good judges say; though I know not wine from
cider. Do you like the wine of Oporto, or the wine of Xeres?'

'I know not one from the other, fair cousin, except by the colour,' I
answered: 'but the sound of Oporto is nobler, and richer. Suppose we try
wine of Oporto.'

The good little creature went and fetched a black bottle of an ancient
cast, covered with dust and cobwebs. These I was anxious to shake aside;
and indeed I thought that the wine would be better for being roused up a
little. Ruth, however, would not hear a single word to that purport;
and seeing that she knew more about it, I left her to manage it. And the
result was very fine indeed, to wit, a sparkling rosy liquor, dancing
with little flakes of light, and scented like new violets. With this I
was so pleased and gay, and Ruth so glad to see me gay, that we quite
forgot how the time went on; and though my fair cousin would not be
persuaded to take a second glass herself, she kept on filling mine so
fast that it was never empty, though I did my best to keep it so.

'What is a little drop like this to a man of your size and strength,
Cousin Ridd?' she said, with her cheeks just brushed with rose, which
made her look very beautiful; 'I have heard you say that your head is so
thick__or rather so clear, you ought to say__that no liquor ever moves
it.'

'That is right enough,' I answered; 'what a witch you must be, dear
Ruth, to have remembered that now!'

'Oh, I remember every word I have ever heard you say, Cousin Ridd;
because your voice is so deep, you know, and you talk so little. Now
it is useless to say "no". These bottles hold almost nothing. Dear
grandfather will not come home, I fear, until long after you are gone.
What will Aunt Ridd think of me, I am sure? You are all so dreadfully
hospitable. Now not another "no," Cousin Ridd. We must have another
bottle.'

'Well, must is must,' I answered, with a certain resignation. 'I cannot
bear bad manners, dear; and how old are you next birthday?'

'Eighteen, dear John;' said Ruth, coming over with the empty bottle;
and I was pleased at her calling me 'John,' and had a great mind to kiss
her. However, I thought of my Lorna suddenly, and of the anger I should
feel if a man went on with her so; therefore I lay back in my chair, to
wait for the other bottle.

'Do you remember how we danced that night?' I asked, while she was
opening it; 'and how you were afraid of me first, because I looked so
tall, dear?'

'Yes, and so very broad, Cousin Ridd. I thought that you would eat me.
But I have come to know, since then, how very kind and good you are.'

'And will you come and dance again, at my wedding, Cousin Ruth?'

She nearly let the bottle fall, the last of which she was sloping
carefully into a vessel of bright glass; and then she raised her hand
again, and finished it judiciously. And after that, she took the window,
to see that all her work was clear; and then she poured me out a glass
and said, with very pale cheeks, but else no sign of meaning about her,
'What did you ask me, Cousin Ridd?'

'Nothing of any importance, Ruth; only we are so fond of you. I mean to
be married as soon as I can. Will you come and help us?'

'To be sure I will, Cousin Ridd__unless, unless, dear grandfather cannot
spare me from the business.' She went away; and her breast was heaving,
like a rick of under_carried hay. And she stood at the window long,
trying to make yawns of sighs.

For my part, I knew not what to do. And yet I could think about it, as
I never could with Lorna; with whom I was always in a whirl, from the
power of my love. So I thought some time about it; and perceived that it
was the manliest way, just to tell her everything; except that I feared
she liked me. But it seemed to me unaccountable that she did not even
ask the name of my intended wife. Perhaps she thought that it must be
Sally; or perhaps she feared to trust her voice.

'Come and sit by me, dear Ruth; and listen to a long, long story, how
things have come about with me.'

'No, thank you, Cousin Ridd,' she answered; 'at least I mean that I
shall be happy__that I shall be ready to hear you__to listen to you, I
mean of course. But I would rather stay where I am, and have the air__or
rather be able to watch for dear grandfather coming home. He is so kind
and good to me. What should I do without him?'

Then I told her how, for years and years, I had been attached to Lorna,
and all the dangers and difficulties which had so long beset us, and
how I hoped that these were passing, and no other might come between
us, except on the score of religion; upon which point I trusted soon
to overcome my mother's objections. And then I told her how poor, and
helpless, and alone in the world, my Lorna was; and how sad all her
youth had been, until I brought her away at last. And many other little
things I mentioned, which there is no need for me again to dwell upon.
Ruth heard it all without a word, and without once looking at me; and
only by her attitude could I guess that she was weeping. Then when all
my tale was told, she asked in a low and gentle voice, but still without
showing her face to me,__

'And does she love you, Cousin Ridd? Does she say that she loves you
with__with all her heart?'

'Certainly, she does,' I answered. 'Do you think it impossible for one
like her to do so?'

She said no more; but crossed the room before I had time to look at her,
and came behind my chair, and kissed me gently on the forehead.

'I hope you may be very happy, with__I mean in your new life,' she
whispered very softly; 'as happy as you deserve to be, and as happy as
you can make others be. Now how I have been neglecting you! I am quite
ashamed of myself for thinking only of grandfather: and it makes me so
low_spirited. You have told me a very nice romance, and I have never
even helped you to a glass of wine. Here, pour it for yourself, dear
cousin; I shall be back again directly.'

With that she was out of the door in a moment; and when she came back,
you would not have thought that a tear had dimmed those large bright
eyes, or wandered down those pale clear cheeks. Only her hands were cold
and trembling: and she made me help myself.

Uncle Reuben did not appear at all; and Ruth, who had promised to come
and see us, and stay for a fortnight at our house (if her grandfather
could spare her), now discovered, before I left, that she must not think
of doing so. Perhaps she was right in deciding thus; at any rate it had
now become improper for me to press her. And yet I now desired tenfold
that she should consent to come, thinking that Lorna herself would work
the speediest cure of her passing whim.

For such, I tried to persuade myself, was the nature of Ruth's regard
for me: and upon looking back I could not charge myself with any
misconduct towards the little maiden. I had never sought her company, I
had never trifled with her (at least until that very day), and being so
engrossed with my own love, I had scarcely ever thought of her. And the
maiden would never have thought of me, except as a clumsy yokel, but for
my mother's and sister's meddling, and their wily suggestions. I believe
they had told the little soul that I was deeply in love with her;
although they both stoutly denied it. But who can place trust in a
woman's word, when it comes to a question of match_making?



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 51

A VISIT FROM THE COUNSELLOR

Now while I was riding home that evening, with a tender conscience
about Ruth, although not a wounded one, I guessed but little that all
my thoughts were needed much for my own affairs. So however it proved
to be; for as I came in, soon after dark, my sister Eliza met me at
the corner of the cheese_room, and she said, 'Don't go in there, John,'
pointing to mother's room; 'until I have had a talk with you.'

'In the name of Moses,' I inquired, having picked up that phrase at
Dulverton; 'what are you at about me now? There is no peace for a quiet
fellow.'

'It is nothing we are at,' she answered; 'neither may you make light of
it. It is something very important about Mistress Lorna Doone.'

'Let us have it at once,' I cried; 'I can bear anything about Lorna,
except that she does not care for me.'

'It has nothing to do with that, John. And I am quite sure that
you never need fear anything of that sort. She perfectly wearies me
sometimes, although her voice is so soft and sweet, about your endless
perfections.'

'Bless her little heart!' I said; 'the subject is inexhaustible.'

'No doubt,' replied Lizzie, in the driest manner; 'especially to your
sisters. However this is no time to joke. I fear you will get the worst
of it, John. Do you know a man of about Gwenny's shape, nearly as broad
as he is long, but about six times the size of Gwenny, and with a
length of snow_white hair, and a thickness also; as the copses were last
winter. He never can comb it, that is quite certain, with any comb yet
invented.'

'Then you go and offer your services. There are few things you cannot
scarify. I know the man from your description, although I have never
seen him. Now where is my Lorna?'

'Your Lorna is with Annie, having a good cry, I believe; and Annie too
glad to second her. She knows that this great man is here, and knows
that he wants to see her. But she begged to defer the interview, until
dear John's return.'

'What a nasty way you have of telling the very commonest piece of news!'
I said, on purpose to pay her out. 'What man will ever fancy you, you
unlucky little snapper? Now, no more nursery talk for me. I will go and
settle this business. You had better go and dress your dolls; if you can
give them clothes unpoisoned.' Hereupon Lizzie burst into a perfect roar
of tears; feeling that she had the worst of it. And I took her up, and
begged her pardon; although she scarcely deserved it; for she knew that
I was out of luck, and she might have spared her satire.

I was almost sure that the man who was come must be the Counsellor
himself; of whom I felt much keener fear than of his son Carver. And
knowing that his visit boded ill to me and Lorna, I went and sought
my dear; and led her with a heavy heart, from the maiden's room to
mother's, to meet our dreadful visitor.

Mother was standing by the door, making curtseys now and then, and
listening to a long harangue upon the rights of state and land, which
the Counsellor (having found that she was the owner of her property, and
knew nothing of her title to it) was encouraged to deliver it. My dear
mother stood gazing at him, spell_bound by his eloquence, and only
hoping that he would stop. He was shaking his hair upon his shoulders,
in the power of his words, and his wrath at some little thing, which he
declared to be quite illegal.

Then I ventured to show myself, in the flesh, before him; although he
feigned not to see me; but he advanced with zeal to Lorna; holding out
both hands at once.

'My darling child, my dearest niece; how wonderfully well you look!
Mistress Ridd, I give you credit. This is the country of good things. I
never would have believed our Queen could have looked so royal. Surely
of all virtues, hospitality is the finest, and the most romantic.
Dearest Lorna, kiss your uncle; it is quite a privilege.'

'Perhaps it is to you, sir,' said Lorna, who could never quite check her
sense of oddity; 'but I fear that you have smoked tobacco, which spoils
reciprocity.'

'You are right, my child. How keen your scent is! It is always so with
us. Your grandfather was noted for his olfactory powers. Ah, a great
loss, dear Mrs. Ridd, a terrible loss to this neighbourhood! As one of
our great writers says__I think it must be Milton__"We ne'er shall look
upon his like again."'

'With your good leave sir,' I broke in, 'Master Milton could never
have written so sweet and simple a line as that. It is one of the great
Shakespeare.'

'Woe is me for my neglect!' said the Counsellor, bowing airily; 'this
must be your son, Mistress Ridd, the great John, the wrestler. And one
who meddles with the Muses! Ah, since I was young, how everything is
changed, madam! Except indeed the beauty of women, which seems to me to
increase every year.' Here the old villain bowed to my mother; and she
blushed, and made another curtsey, and really did look very nice.

'Now though I have quoted the poets amiss, as your son informs me (for
which I tender my best thanks, and must amend my reading), I can hardly
be wrong in assuming that this young armiger must be the too attractive
cynosure to our poor little maiden. And for my part, she is welcome to
him. I have never been one of those who dwell upon distinctions of rank,
and birth, and such like; as if they were in the heart of nature, and
must be eternal. In early youth, I may have thought so, and been full
of that little pride. But now I have long accounted it one of the first
axioms of political economy__you are following me, Mistress Ridd?'

'Well, sir, I am doing my best; but I cannot quite keep up with you.'

'Never mind, madam; I will be slower. But your son's intelligence is so
quick__'

'I see, sir; you thought that mine must be. But no; it all comes from
his father, sir. His father was that quick and clever__'

'Ah, I can well suppose it, madam. And a credit he is to both of you.
Now, to return to our muttons__a figure which you will appreciate__I may
now be regarded, I think, as this young lady's legal guardian; although
I have not had the honour of being formally appointed such. Her father
was the eldest son of Sir Ensor Doone; and I happened to be the second
son; and as young maidens cannot be baronets, I suppose I am "Sir
Counsellor." Is it so, Mistress Ridd, according to your theory of
genealogy?'

'I am sure I don't know, sir,' my mother answered carefully; 'I know not
anything of that name, sir, except in the Gospel of Matthew: but I see
not why it should be otherwise.'

'Good, madam! I may look upon that as your sanction and approval: and
the College of Heralds shall hear of it. And in return, as Lorna's
guardian, I give my full and ready consent to her marriage with your
son, madam.'

'Oh, how good of you, sir, how kind! Well, I always did say, that the
learnedest people were, almost always, the best and kindest, and the
most simple_hearted.'

'Madam, that is a great sentiment. What a goodly couple they will be!
and if we can add him to our strength__'

'Oh no, sir, oh no!' cried mother: 'you really must not think of it. He
has always been brought up so honest__'

'Hem! that makes a difference. A decided disqualification for domestic
life among the Doones. But, surely, he might get over those prejudices,
madam?'

'Oh no, sir! he never can: he never can indeed. When he was only that
high, sir, he could not steal even an apple, when some wicked boys tried
to mislead him.'

'Ah,' replied the Counsellor, shaking his white head gravely; 'then I
greatly fear that his case is quite incurable. I have known such cases;
violent prejudice, bred entirely of education, and anti_economical
to the last degree. And when it is so, it is desperate: no man, after
imbibing ideas of that sort, can in any way be useful.'

'Oh yes, sir, John is very useful. He can do as much work as three other
men; and you should see him load a sledd, sir.'

'I was speaking, madam, of higher usefulness,__power of the brain and
heart. The main thing for us upon earth is to take a large view of
things. But while we talk of the heart, what is my niece Lorna
doing, that she does not come and thank me, for my perhaps too prompt
concession to her youthful fancies? Ah, if I had wanted thanks, I should
have been more stubborn.'

Lorna, being challenged thus, came up and looked at her uncle, with
her noble eyes fixed full upon his, which beneath his white eyebrows
glistened, like dormer windows piled with snow.

'For what am I to thank you, uncle?'

'My dear niece, I have told you. For removing the heaviest obstacle,
which to a mind so well regulated could possibly have existed, between
your dutiful self and the object of your affections.'

'Well, uncle, I should be very grateful, if I thought that you did
so from love of me; or if I did not know that you have something yet
concealed from me.'

'And my consent,' said the Counsellor, 'is the more meritorious, the
more liberal, frank, and candid, in the face of an existing fact, and a
very clearly established one; which might have appeared to weaker minds
in the light of an impediment; but to my loftier view of matrimony seems
quite a recommendation.'

'What fact do you mean, sir? Is it one that I ought to know?'

'In my opinion it is, good niece. It forms, to my mind, so fine a basis
for the invariable harmony of the matrimonial state. To be brief__as I
always endeavour to be, without becoming obscure__you two young people
(ah, what a gift is youth! one can never be too thankful for it) you
will have the rare advantage of commencing married life, with a subject
of common interest to discuss, whenever you weary of__well, say of one
another; if you can now, by any means, conceive such a possibility. And
perfect justice meted out: mutual goodwill resulting, from the sense of
reciprocity.'

'I do not understand you, sir. Why can you not say what you mean, at
once?'

'My dear child, I prolong your suspense. Curiosity is the most powerful
of all feminine instincts; and therefore the most delightful, when not
prematurely satisfied. However, if you must have my strong realities,
here they are. Your father slew dear John's father, and dear John's
father slew yours.'

Having said thus much, the Counsellor leaned back upon his chair, and
shaded his calm white_bearded eyes from the rays of our tallow candles.
He was a man who liked to look, rather than to be looked at. But Lorna
came to me for aid; and I went up to Lorna and mother looked at both of
us.

Then feeling that I must speak first (as no one would begin it), I took
my darling round the waist, and led her up to the Counsellor; while she
tried to bear it bravely; yet must lean on me, or did.

'Now, Sir Counsellor Doone,' I said, with Lorna squeezing both my hands,
I never yet knew how (considering that she was walking all the time, or
something like it); 'you know right well, Sir Counsellor, that Sir Ensor
Doone gave approval.' I cannot tell what made me think of this: but so
it came upon me.

'Approval to what, good rustic John? To the slaughter so reciprocal?'

'No, sir, not to that; even if it ever happened; which I do not believe.
But to the love betwixt me and Lorna; which your story shall not break,
without more evidence than your word. And even so, shall never break; if
Lorna thinks as I do.'

The maiden gave me a little touch, as much as to say, 'You are right,
darling: give it to him, again, like that.' However, I held my peace,
well knowing that too many words do mischief.

Then mother looked at me with wonder, being herself too amazed to speak;
and the Counsellor looked, with great wrath in his eyes, which he tried
to keep from burning.

'How say you then, John Ridd,' he cried, stretching out one hand, like
Elijah; 'is this a thing of the sort you love? Is this what you are used
to?'

'So please your worship,' I answered; 'no kind of violence can surprise
us, since first came Doones upon Exmoor. Up to that time none heard
of harm; except of taking a purse, maybe, or cutting a strange sheep's
throat. And the poor folk who did this were hanged, with some benefit of
clergy. But ever since the Doones came first, we are used to anything.'

'Thou varlet,' cried the Counsellor, with the colour of his eyes quite
changed with the sparkles of his fury; 'is this the way we are to deal
with such a low_bred clod as thou? To question the doings of our people,
and to talk of clergy! What, dream you not that we could have clergy,
and of the right sort, too, if only we cared to have them? Tush! Am I to
spend my time arguing with a plough_tail Bob?'

'If your worship will hearken to me,' I answered very modestly, not
wishing to speak harshly, with Lorna looking up at me; 'there are many
things that might be said without any kind of argument, which I would
never wish to try with one of your worship's learning. And in the first
place it seems to me that if our fathers hated one another bitterly, yet
neither won the victory, only mutual discomfiture; surely that is but
a reason why we should be wiser than they, and make it up in this
generation by goodwill and loving'__

'Oh, John, you wiser than your father!' mother broke upon me here; 'not
but what you might be as wise, when you come to be old enough.'

'Young people of the present age,' said the Counsellor severely, 'have
no right feeling of any sort, upon the simplest matter. Lorna Doone,
stand forth from contact with that heir of parricide; and state in your
own mellifluous voice, whether you regard this slaughter as a pleasant
trifle.'

'You know, without any words of mine,' she answered very softly, yet not
withdrawing from my hand, 'that although I have been seasoned well to
every kind of outrage, among my gentle relatives, I have not yet so
purely lost all sense of right and wrong as to receive what you have
said, as lightly as you declared it. You think it a happy basis for our
future concord. I do not quite think that, my uncle; neither do I quite
believe that a word of it is true. In our happy valley, nine_tenths of
what is said is false; and you were always wont to argue that true
and false are but a blind turned upon a pivot. Without any failure of
respect for your character, good uncle, I decline politely to believe a
word of what you have told me. And even if it were proved to me, all I
can say is this, if my John will have me, I am his for ever.'

This long speech was too much for her; she had overrated her strength
about it, and the sustenance of irony. So at last she fell into my arms,
which had long been waiting for her; and there she lay with no other
sound, except a gurgling in her throat.

'You old villain,' cried my mother, shaking her fist at the Counsellor,
while I could do nothing else but hold, and bend across, my darling, and
whisper to deaf ears; 'What is the good of the quality; if this is
all that comes of it? Out of the way! You know the words that make the
deadly mischief; but not the ways that heal them. Give me that bottle,
if hands you have; what is the use of Counsellors?'

I saw that dear mother was carried away; and indeed I myself was
something like it; with the pale face upon my bosom, and the heaving of
the heart, and the heat and cold all through me, as my darling breathed
or lay. Meanwhile the Counsellor stood back, and seemed a little sorry;
although of course it was not in his power to be at all ashamed of
himself.

'My sweet love, my darling child,' our mother went on to Lorna, in a way
that I shall never forget, though I live to be a hundred; 'pretty pet,
not a word of it is true, upon that old liar's oath; and if every word
were true, poor chick, you should have our John all the more for it.
You and John were made by God and meant for one another, whatever falls
between you. Little lamb, look up and speak: here is your own John and
I; and the devil take the Counsellor.'

I was amazed at mother's words, being so unlike her; while I loved her
all the more because she forgot herself so. In another moment in ran
Annie, ay and Lizzie also, knowing by some mystic sense (which I have
often noticed, but never could explain) that something was astir,
belonging to the world of women, yet foreign to the eyes of men. And now
the Counsellor, being well_born, although such a heartless miscreant,
beckoned to me to come away; which I, being smothered with women, was
only too glad to do, as soon as my own love would let go of me.

'That is the worst of them,' said the old man; when I had led him into
our kitchen, with an apology at every step, and given him hot schnapps
and water, and a cigarro of brave Tom Faggus: 'you never can say much,
sir, in the way of reasoning (however gently meant and put) but what
these women will fly out. It is wiser to put a wild bird in a cage, and
expect him to sit and look at you, and chirp without a feather rumpled,
than it is to expect a woman to answer reason reasonably.' Saying this,
he looked at his puff of smoke as if it contained more reason.

'I am sure I do not know, sir,' I answered according to a phrase which
has always been my favourite, on account of its general truth: moreover,
he was now our guest, and had right to be treated accordingly: 'I am,
as you see, not acquainted with the ways of women, except my mother and
sisters.'

'Except not even them, my son, said the Counsellor, now having finished
his glass, without much consultation about it; 'if you once understand
your mother and sisters__why you understand the lot of them.'

He made a twist in his cloud of smoke, and dashed his finger through
it, so that I could not follow his meaning, and in manners liked not to
press him.

'Now of this business, John,' he said, after getting to the bottom of
the second glass, and having a trifle or so to eat, and praising our
chimney_corner; 'taking you on the whole, you know, you are wonderfully
good people; and instead of giving me up to the soldiers, as you might
have done, you are doing your best to make me drunk.'

'Not at all, sir,' I answered; 'not at all, your worship. Let me mix
you another glass. We rarely have a great gentleman by the side of our
embers and oven. I only beg your pardon, sir, that my sister Annie (who
knows where to find all the good pans and the lard) could not wait upon
you this evening; and I fear they have done it with dripping instead,
and in a pan with the bottom burned. But old Betty quite loses her head
sometimes, by dint of over_scolding.'

'My son,' replied the Counsellor, standing across the front of the fire,
to prove his strict sobriety: 'I meant to come down upon you to_night;
but you have turned the tables upon me. Not through any skill on your
part, nor through any paltry weakness as to love (and all that stuff,
which boys and girls spin tops at, or knock dolls' noses together), but
through your simple way of taking me, as a man to be believed; combined
with the comfort of this place, and the choice tobacco and cordials. I
have not enjoyed an evening so much, God bless me if I know when!'

'Your worship,' said I, 'makes me more proud than I well know what to
do with. Of all the things that please and lead us into happy sleep
at night, the first and chiefest is to think that we have pleased a
visitor.'

'Then, John, thou hast deserved good sleep; for I am not pleased easily.
But although our family is not so high now as it hath been, I have
enough of the gentleman left to be pleased when good people try me. My
father, Sir Ensor, was better than I in this great element of birth, and
my son Carver is far worse. Aetas parentum, what is it, my boy? I hear
that you have been at a grammar_school.'

'So I have, your worship, and at a very good one; but I only got far
enough to make more tail than head of Latin.'

'Let that pass,' said the Counsellor; 'John, thou art all the wiser.'
And the old man shook his hoary locks, as if Latin had been his ruin.
I looked at him sadly, and wondered whether it might have so ruined me,
but for God's mercy in stopping it.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 52

THE WAY TO MAKE THE CREAM RISE

That night the reverend Counsellor, not being in such state of mind as
ought to go alone, kindly took our best old bedstead, carved in panels,
well enough, with the woman of Samaria. I set him up, both straight
and heavy, so that he need but close both eyes, and keep his mouth just
open; and in the morning he was thankful for all that he could remember.

I, for my part, scarcely knew whether he really had begun to feel
goodwill towards us, and to see that nothing else could be of any use
to him; or whether he was merely acting, so as to deceive us. And it
had struck me, several times, that he had made a great deal more of the
spirit he had taken than the quantity would warrant, with a man so wise
and solid. Neither did I quite understand a little story which Lorna
told me, how that in the night awaking, she had heard, or seemed to
hear, a sound of feeling in her room; as if there had been some
one groping carefully among the things within her drawers or
wardrobe_closet. But the noise had ceased at once, she said, when she
sat up in bed and listened; and knowing how many mice we had, she took
courage and fell asleep again.

After breakfast, the Counsellor (who looked no whit the worse for
schnapps, but even more grave and venerable) followed our Annie into the
dairy, to see how we managed the clotted cream, of which he had eaten
a basinful. And thereupon they talked a little; and Annie thought him a
fine old gentleman, and a very just one; for he had nobly condemned the
people who spoke against Tom Faggus.

'Your honour must plainly understand,' said Annie, being now alone
with him, and spreading out her light quick hands over the pans, like
butterflies, 'that they are brought in here to cool, after being set in
the basin_holes, with the wood_ash under them, which I showed you in the
back_kitchen. And they must have very little heat, not enough to simmer
even; only just to make the bubbles rise, and the scum upon the top set
thick; and after that, it clots as firm__oh, as firm as my two hands
be.'

'Have you ever heard,' asked the Counsellor, who enjoyed this talk with
Annie, 'that if you pass across the top, without breaking the surface, a
string of beads, or polished glass, or anything of that kind, the cream
will set three times as solid, and in thrice the quantity?'

'No, sir; I have never heard that,' said Annie, staring with all her
simple eyes; 'what a thing it is to read books, and grow learned! But
it is very easy to try it: I will get my coral necklace; it will not be
witchcraft, will it, sir?'

'Certainly not,' the old man replied; 'I will make the experiment
myself; and you may trust me not to be hurt, my dear. But coral will not
do, my child, neither will anything coloured. The beads must be of plain
common glass; but the brighter they are the better.'

'Then I know the very thing,' cried Annie; 'as bright as bright can be,
and without any colour in it, except in the sun or candle light. Dearest
Lorna has the very thing, a necklace of some old glass_beads, or I think
they called them jewels: she will be too glad to lend it to us. I will
go for it, in a moment.'

'My dear, it cannot be half so bright as your own pretty eyes. But
remember one thing, Annie, you must not say what it is for; or even that
I am going to use it, or anything at all about it; else the charm will
be broken. Bring it here, without a word; if you know where she keeps
it.'

'To be sure I do,' she answered; 'John used to keep it for her. But
she took it away from him last week, and she wore it when__I mean when
somebody was here; and he said it was very valuable, and spoke with
great learning about it, and called it by some particular name, which I
forget at this moment. But valuable or not, we cannot hurt it, can we,
sir, by passing it over the cream_pan?'

'Hurt it!' cried the Counsellor: 'nay, we shall do it good, my dear.
It will help to raise the cream: and you may take my word for it, young
maiden, none can do good in this world, without in turn receiving it.'
Pronouncing this great sentiment, he looked so grand and benevolent,
that Annie (as she said afterwards) could scarce forbear from kissing
him, yet feared to take the liberty. Therefore, she only ran away to
fetch my Lorna's necklace.

Now as luck would have it__whether good luck or otherwise, you must not
judge too hastily,__my darling had taken it into her head, only a day or
two before, that I was far too valuable to be trusted with her necklace.
Now that she had some idea of its price and quality, she had begun to
fear that some one, perhaps even Squire Faggus (in whom her faith was
illiberal), might form designs against my health, to win the bauble from
me. So, with many pretty coaxings, she had led me to give it up; which,
except for her own sake, I was glad enough to do, misliking a charge of
such importance.

Therefore Annie found it sparkling in the little secret hole, near the
head of Lorna's bed, which she herself had recommended for its safer
custody; and without a word to any one she brought it down, and danced
it in the air before the Counsellor, for him to admire its lustre.

'Oh, that old thing!' said the gentleman, in a tone of some contempt; 'I
remember that old thing well enough. However, for want of a better, no
doubt it will answer our purpose. Three times three, I pass it over.
Crinkleum, crankum, grass and clover! What are you feared of, you silly
child?'

'Good sir, it is perfect witchcraft! I am sure of that, because it
rhymes. Oh, what would mother say to me? Shall I ever go to heaven
again? Oh, I see the cream already!'

'To be sure you do; but you must not look, or the whole charm will be
broken, and the devil will fly away with the pan, and drown every cow
you have got in it.'

'Oh, sir, it is too horrible. How could you lead me to such a sin? Away
with thee, witch of Endor!'

For the door began to creak, and a broom appeared suddenly in the
opening, with our Betty, no doubt, behind it. But Annie, in the greatest
terror, slammed the door, and bolted it, and then turned again to the
Counsellor; yet looking at his face, had not the courage to reproach
him. For his eyes rolled like two blazing barrels, and his white shagged
brows were knit across them, and his forehead scowled in black furrows,
so that Annie said that if she ever saw the devil, she saw him then, and
no mistake. Whether the old man wished to scare her, or whether he was
trying not to laugh, is more than I can tell you.

'Now,' he said, in a deep stern whisper; 'not a word of this to a living
soul; neither must you, nor any other enter this place for three hours
at least. By that time the charm will have done its work: the pan will
be cream to the bottom; and you will bless me for a secret which will
make your fortune. Put the bauble under this pannikin; which none must
lift for a day and a night. Have no fear, my simple wench; not a breath
of harm shall come to you, if you obey my orders.'

'Oh, that I will, sir, that I will: if you will only tell me what to
do.'

'Go to your room, without so much as a single word to any one. Bolt
yourself in, and for three hours now, read the Lord's Prayer backwards.'

Poor Annie was only too glad to escape, upon these conditions; and the
Counsellor kissed her upon the forehead and told her not to make her
eyes red, because they were much too sweet and pretty. She dropped them
at this, with a sob and a curtsey, and ran away to her bedroom; but as
for reading the Lord's Prayer backwards, that was much beyond her;
and she had not done three words quite right, before the three hours
expired.

Meanwhile the Counsellor was gone. He bade our mother adieu, with so
much dignity of bearing, and such warmth of gratitude, and the high_bred
courtesy of the old school (now fast disappearing), that when he was
gone, dear mother fell back on the chair which he had used last night,
as if it would teach her the graces. And for more than an hour she made
believe not to know what there was for dinner.

'Oh, the wickedness of the world! Oh, the lies that are told of
people__or rather I mean the falsehoods__because a man is better born,
and has better manners! Why, Lorna, how is it that you never speak about
your charming uncle? Did you notice, Lizzie, how his silver hair was
waving upon his velvet collar, and how white his hands were, and every
nail like an acorn; only pink like shell_fish, or at least like shells?
And the way he bowed, and dropped his eyes, from his pure respect for
me! And then, that he would not even speak, on account of his emotion;
but pressed my hand in silence! Oh, Lizzie, you have read me beautiful
things about Sir Gallyhead, and the rest; but nothing to equal Sir
Counsellor.'

'You had better marry him, madam,' said I, coming in very sternly;
though I knew I ought not to say it: 'he can repay your adoration. He
has stolen a hundred thousand pounds.'

'John,' cried my mother, 'you are mad!' And yet she turned as pale as
death; for women are so quick at turning; and she inkled what it was.

'Of course I am, mother; mad about the marvels of Sir Galahad. He has
gone off with my Lorna's necklace. Fifty farms like ours can never make
it good to Lorna.'

Hereupon ensued grim silence. Mother looked at Lizzie's face, for she
could not look at me; and Lizzie looked at me, to know: and as for me, I
could have stamped almost on the heart of any one. It was not the value
of the necklace__I am not so low a hound as that__nor was it even the
damned folly shown by every one of us__it was the thought of Lorna's
sorrow for her ancient plaything; and even more, my fury at the breach
of hospitality.

But Lorna came up to me softly, as a woman should always come; and she
laid one hand upon my shoulder; and she only looked at me. She even
seemed to fear to look, and dropped her eyes, and sighed at me. Without
a word, I knew by that, how I must have looked like Satan; and the evil
spirit left my heart; when she had made me think of it.

'Darling John, did you want me to think that you cared for my money,
more than for me?'

I led her away from the rest of them, being desirous of explaining
things, when I saw the depth of her nature opened, like an everlasting
well, to me. But she would not let me say a word, or do anything by
ourselves, as it were: she said, 'Your duty is to your mother: this blow
is on her, and not on me.'

I saw that she was right; though how she knew it is beyond me; and I
asked her just to go in front, and bring my mother round a little. For I
must let my passion pass: it may drop its weapons quickly; but it cannot
come and go, before a man has time to think.

Then Lorna went up to my mother, who was still in the chair of elegance;
and she took her by both hands, and said,__

'Dearest mother, I shall fret so, if I see you fretting. And to fret
will kill me, mother. They have always told me so.'

Poor mother bent on Lorna's shoulder, without thought of attitude, and
laid her cheek on Lorna's breast, and sobbed till Lizzie was jealous,
and came with two pocket_handkerchiefs. As for me, my heart was lighter
(if they would only dry their eyes, and come round by dinnertime) than
it had been since the day on which Tom Faggus discovered the value of
that blessed and cursed necklace. None could say that I wanted Lorna for
her money now. And perhaps the Doones would let me have her; now that
her property was gone.

But who shall tell of Annie's grief? The poor little thing would have
staked her life upon finding the trinket, in all its beauty, lying under
the pannikin. She proudly challenged me to lift it__which I had done,
long ere that, of course__if only I would take the risk of the spell for
my incredulity. I told her not to talk of spells, until she could spell
a word backwards; and then to look into the pan where the charmed cream
should be. She would not acknowledge that the cream was the same as all
the rest was: and indeed it was not quite the same, for the points of
poor Lorna's diamonds had made a few star_rays across the rich firm
crust of yellow.

But when we raised the pannikin, and there was nothing under it, poor
Annie fell against the wall, which had been whitened lately; and her
face put all the white to scorn. My love, who was as fond of her, as if
she had known her for fifty years, hereupon ran up and caught her, and
abused all diamonds. I will dwell no more upon Annie's grief, because we
felt it all so much. But I could not help telling her, if she wanted a
witch, to seek good Mother Melldrum, a legitimate performer.

That same night Master Jeremy Stickles (of whose absence the Counsellor
must have known) came back, with all equipment ready for the grand
attack. Now the Doones knew, quite as well as we did, that this attack
was threatening; and that but for the wonderful weather it would have
been made long ago. Therefore we, or at least our people (for I was
doubtful about going), were sure to meet with a good resistance, and due
preparation.

It was very strange to hear and see, and quite impossible to account
for, that now some hundreds of country people (who feared to whisper
so much as a word against the Doones a year ago, and would sooner have
thought of attacking a church, in service time, than Glen Doone) now
sharpened their old cutlasses, and laid pitch_forks on the grindstone,
and bragged at every village cross, as if each would kill ten Doones
himself, neither care to wipe his hands afterwards. And this fierce
bravery, and tall contempt, had been growing ever since the news of the
attack upon our premises had taken good people by surprise; at least as
concerned the issue.

Jeremy Stickles laughed heartily about Annie's new manner of charming
the cream; but he looked very grave at the loss of the jewels, so soon
as he knew their value.

'My son,' he exclaimed, 'this is very heavy. It will go ill with all of
you to make good this loss, as I fear that you will have to do.'

'What!' cried I, with my blood running cold. 'We make good the loss,
Master Stickles! Every farthing we have in the world, and the labour of
our lives to boot, will never make good the tenth of it.'

'It would cut me to the heart,' he answered, laying his hand on mine,
'to hear of such a deadly blow to you and your good mother. And this
farm; how long, John, has it been in your family?'

'For at least six hundred years,' I said, with a foolish pride that was
only too like to end in groans; 'and some people say, by a Royal grant,
in the time of the great King Alfred. At any rate, a Ridd was with him
throughout all his hiding_time. We have always held by the King and
crown: surely none will turn us out, unless we are guilty of treason?'

'My son,' replied Jeremy very gently, so that I could love him for
it, 'not a word to your good mother of this unlucky matter. Keep it to
yourself, my boy, and try to think but little of it. After all, I may be
wrong: at any rate, least said best mended.'

'But Jeremy, dear Jeremy, how can I bear to leave it so? Do you suppose
that I can sleep, and eat my food, and go about, and look at other
people, as if nothing at all had happened? And all the time have it on
my mind, that not an acre of all the land, nor even our old sheep_dog,
belongs to us, of right at all! It is more than I can do, Jeremy. Let me
talk, and know the worst of it.'

'Very well,' replied Master Stickles, seeing that both the doors were
closed; 'I thought that nothing could move you, John; or I never would
have told you. Likely enough I am quite wrong; and God send that I be
so. But what I guessed at some time back seems more than a guess, now
that you have told me about these wondrous jewels. Now will you keep, as
close as death, every word I tell you?'

'By the honour of a man, I will. Until you yourself release me.'

'That is quite enough, John. From you I want no oath; which, according
to my experience, tempts a man to lie the more, by making it more
important. I know you now too well to swear you, though I have the
power. Now, my lad, what I have to say will scare your mind in one way,
and ease it in another. I think that you have been hard pressed__I can
read you like a book, John__by something which that old villain said,
before he stole the necklace. You have tried not to dwell upon it; you
have even tried to make light of it for the sake of the women: but on
the whole it has grieved you more than even this dastard robbery.'

'It would have done so, Jeremy Stickles, if I could once have believed
it. And even without much belief, it is so against our manners, that it
makes me miserable. Only think of loving Lorna, only think of kissing
her; and then remembering that her father had destroyed the life of
mine!'

'Only think,' said Master Stickles, imitating my very voice, 'of Lorna
loving you, John, of Lorna kissing you, John; and all the while saying
to herself, "this man's father murdered mine." Now look at it in Lorna's
way as well as in your own way. How one_sided all men are!'

'I may look at it in fifty ways, and yet no good will come of it.
Jeremy, I confess to you, that I tried to make the best of it; partly to
baffle the Counsellor, and partly because my darling needed my help, and
bore it so, and behaved to me so nobly. But to you in secret, I am not
ashamed to say that a woman may look over this easier than a man may.'

'Because her nature is larger, my son, when she truly loves; although
her mind be smaller. Now, if I can ease you from this secret burden,
will you bear, with strength and courage, the other which I plant on
you?'

'I will do my best,' said I.

'No man can do more,' said he and so began his story.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 53

JEREMY FINDS OUT SOMETHING

'You know, my son,' said Jeremy Stickles, with a good pull at his pipe,
because he was going to talk so much, and putting his legs well along
the settle; 'it has been my duty, for a wearier time than I care to
think of (and which would have been unbearable, except for your great
kindness), to search this neighbourhood narrowly, and learn everything
about everybody. Now the neighbourhood itself is queer; and people
have different ways of thinking from what we are used to in London. For
instance now, among your folk, when any piece of news is told, or any
man's conduct spoken of, the very first question that arises in your
mind is this__"Was this action kind and good?" Long after that, you say
to yourselves, "does the law enjoin or forbid this thing?" Now here
is your fundamental error: for among all truly civilised people the
foremost of all questions is, "how stands the law herein?" And if the
law approve, no need for any further questioning. That this is so, you
may take my word: for I know the law pretty thoroughly.

'Very well; I need not say any more about that, for I have shown that
you are all quite wrong. I only speak of this savage tendency, because
it explains so many things which have puzzled me among you, and most of
all your kindness to men whom you never saw before; which is an utterly
illegal thing. It also explains your toleration of these outlaw Doones
so long. If your views of law had been correct, and law an element of
your lives, these robbers could never have been indulged for so many
years amongst you: but you must have abated the nuisance.'

'Now, Stickles,' I cried, 'this is too bad!' he was delivering himself
so grandly. 'Why you yourself have been amongst us, as the balance, and
sceptre, and sword of law, for nigh upon a twelvemonth; and have you
abated the nuisance, or even cared to do it, until they began to shoot
at you?'

'My son,' he replied, 'your argument is quite beside the purpose, and
only tends to prove more clearly that which I have said of you. However,
if you wish to hear my story, no more interruptions. I may not have a
chance to tell you, perhaps for weeks, or I know not when, if once those
yellows and reds arrive, and be blessed to them, the lubbers! Well,
it may be six months ago, or it may be seven, at any rate a good while
before that cursed frost began, the mere name of which sends a shiver
down every bone of my body, when I was riding one afternoon from
Dulverton to Watchett'__

'Dulverton to Watchett!' I cried. 'Now what does that remind me of? I am
sure, I remember something__'

'Remember this, John, if anything__that another word from thee, and thou
hast no more of mine. Well, I was a little weary perhaps, having been
plagued at Dulverton with the grossness of the people. For they would
tell me nothing at all about their fellow_townsmen, your worthy Uncle
Huckaback, except that he was a God_fearing man, and they only wished
I was like him. I blessed myself for a stupid fool, in thinking to have
pumped them; for by this time I might have known that, through your
Western homeliness, every man in his own country is something more than
a prophet. And I felt, of course, that I had done more harm than good by
questioning; inasmuch as every soul in the place would run straightway
and inform him that the King's man from the other side of the forest had
been sifting out his ways and works.'

'Ah,' I cried, for I could not help it; 'you begin to understand at
last, that we are not quite such a set of oafs, as you at first believed
us.'

'I was riding on from Dulverton,' he resumed, with great severity, yet
threatening me no more, which checked me more than fifty threats: 'and
it was late in the afternoon, and I was growing weary. The road (if road
it could be called) 'turned suddenly down from the higher land to the
very brink of the sea; and rounding a little jut of cliff, I met the
roar of the breakers. My horse was scared, and leaped aside; for a
northerly wind was piping, and driving hunks of foam across, as children
scatter snow_balls. But he only sank to his fetlocks in the dry sand,
piled with pop_weed: and I tried to make him face the waves; and then I
looked about me.

'Watchett town was not to be seen, on account of a little foreland, a
mile or more upon my course, and standing to the right of me. There was
room enough below the cliffs (which are nothing there to yours, John),
for horse and man to get along, although the tide was running high with
a northerly gale to back it. But close at hand and in the corner, drawn
above the yellow sands and long eye_brows of rackweed, as snug a little
house blinked on me as ever I saw, or wished to see.

'You know that I am not luxurious, neither in any way given to the
common lusts of the flesh, John. My father never allowed his hair to
grow a fourth part of an inch in length, and he was a thoroughly godly
man; and I try to follow in his footsteps, whenever I think about it.
Nevertheless, I do assure you that my view of that little house and the
way the lights were twinkling, so different from the cold and darkness
of the rolling sea, moved the ancient Adam in me, if he could be found
to move. I love not a house with too many windows: being out of house
and doors some three_quarters of my time, when I get inside a house I
like to feel the difference. Air and light are good for people who have
any lack of them; and if a man once talks about them, 'tis enough to
prove his need of them. But, as you well know, John Ridd, the horse who
has been at work all day, with the sunshine in his eyes, sleeps better
in dark stables, and needs no moon to help him.

'Seeing therefore that this same inn had four windows, and no more,
I thought to myself how snug it was, and how beautiful I could sleep
there. And so I made the old horse draw hand, which he was only too glad
to do, and we clomb above the spring_tide mark, and over a little piece
of turf, and struck the door of the hostelry. Some one came and peeped
at me through the lattice overhead, which was full of bulls' eyes; and
then the bolt was drawn back, and a woman met me very courteously. A
dark and foreign_looking woman, very hot of blood, I doubt, but not
altogether a bad one. And she waited for me to speak first, which an
Englishwoman would not have done.

'"Can I rest here for the night?" I asked, with a lift of my hat to her;
for she was no provincial dame, who would stare at me for the courtesy;
"my horse is weary from the sloughs, and myself but little better:
beside that, we both are famished."

'"Yes, sir, you can rest and welcome. But of food, I fear, there is but
little, unless of the common order. Our fishers would have drawn the
nets, but the waves were violent. However, we have__what you call it? I
never can remember, it is so hard to say__the flesh of the hog salted."

'"Bacon!" said I; "what can be better? And half dozen of eggs with it,
and a quart of fresh_drawn ale. You make me rage with hunger, madam. Is
it cruelty, or hospitality?"

'"Ah, good!" she replied, with a merry smile, full of southern sunshine:
"you are not of the men round here; you can think, and you can laugh!"

'"And most of all, I can eat, good madam. In that way I shall astonish
you; even more than by my intellect."

'She laughed aloud, and swung her shoulders, as your natives cannot do;
and then she called a little maid to lead my horse to stable. However,
I preferred to see that matter done myself, and told her to send the
little maid for the frying_pan and the egg_box.

'Whether it were my natural wit and elegance of manner; or whether it
were my London freedom and knowledge of the world; or (which is perhaps
the most probable, because the least pleasing supposition) my ready and
permanent appetite, and appreciation of garlic__I leave you to decide,
John: but perhaps all three combined to recommend me to the graces of my
charming hostess. When I say "charming," I mean of course by manners
and by intelligence, and most of all by cooking; for as regards external
charms (most fleeting and fallacious) hers had ceased to cause distress,
for I cannot say how many years. She said that it was the climate__for
even upon that subject she requested my opinion__and I answered, "if
there be a change, let madam blame the seasons."

'However, not to dwell too much upon our little pleasantries (for I
always get on with these foreign women better than with your Molls and
Pegs), I became, not inquisitive, but reasonably desirous to know, by
what strange hap or hazard, a clever and a handsome woman, as she must
have been some day, a woman moreover with great contempt for the rustic
minds around her, could have settled here in this lonely inn, with
only the waves for company, and a boorish husband who slaved all day in
turning a potter's wheel at Watchett. And what was the meaning of the
emblem set above her doorway, a very unattractive cat sitting in a
ruined tree?

'However, I had not very long to strain my curiosity; for when she found
out who I was, and how I held the King's commission, and might be called
an officer, her desire to tell me all was more than equal to mine
of hearing it. Many and many a day, she had longed for some one both
skilful and trustworthy, most of all for some one bearing warrant from
a court of justice. But the magistrates of the neighbourhood would have
nothing to say to her, declaring that she was a crack_brained woman, and
a wicked, and even a foreign one.

'With many grimaces she assured me that never by her own free_will would
she have lived so many years in that hateful country, where the sky for
half the year was fog, and rain for nearly the other half. It was so
the very night when first her evil fortune brought her there; and so no
doubt it would be, long after it had killed her. But if I wished to know
the reason of her being there, she would tell me in few words, which I
will repeat as briefly.

'By birth she was an Italian, from the mountains of Apulia, who had
gone to Rome to seek her fortunes, after being badly treated in some
love_affair. Her Christian name was Benita; as for her surname, that
could make no difference to any one. Being a quick and active girl,
and resolved to work down her troubles, she found employment in a large
hotel; and rising gradually, began to send money to her parents. And
here she might have thriven well, and married well under sunny skies,
and been a happy woman, but that some black day sent thither a rich and
noble English family, eager to behold the Pope. It was not, however,
their fervent longing for the Holy Father which had brought them to St.
Peter's roof; but rather their own bad luck in making their home too
hot to hold them. For although in the main good Catholics, and pleasant
receivers of anything, one of their number had given offence, by the
folly of trying to think for himself. Some bitter feud had been among
them, Benita knew not how it was; and the sister of the nobleman who
had died quite lately was married to the rival claimant, whom they all
detested. It was something about dividing land; Benita knew not what it
was.

'But this Benita did know, that they were all great people, and rich,
and very liberal; so that when they offered to take her, to attend to
the children, and to speak the language for them, and to comfort the
lady, she was only too glad to go, little foreseeing the end of it.
Moreover, she loved the children so, from their pretty ways and that,
and the things they gave her, and the style of their dresses, that it
would have broken her heart almost never to see the dears again.

'And so, in a very evil hour, she accepted the service of the noble
Englishman, and sent her father an old shoe filled to the tongue with
money, and trusted herself to fortune. But even before she went, she
knew that it could not turn out well; for the laurel leaf which she
threw on the fire would not crackle even once, and the horn of the goat
came wrong in the twist, and the heel of her foot was shining. This made
her sigh at the starting_time; and after that what could you hope for?

'However, at first all things went well. My Lord was as gay as gay could
be: and never would come inside the carriage, when a decent horse could
be got to ride. He would gallop in front, at a reckless pace, without a
weapon of any kind, delighted with the pure blue air, and throwing his
heart around him. Benita had never seen any man so admirable, and so
childish. As innocent as an infant; and not only contented, but noisily
happy with anything. Only other people must share his joy; and the
shadow of sorrow scattered it, though it were but the shade of poverty.

'Here Benita wept a little; and I liked her none the less, and believed
her ten times more; in virtue of a tear or two.

'And so they travelled through Northern Italy, and throughout the south
of France, making their way anyhow; sometimes in coaches, sometimes in
carts, sometimes upon mule_back, sometimes even a_foot and weary; but
always as happy as could be. The children laughed, and grew, and throve
(especially the young lady, the elder of the two), and Benita began
to think that omens must not be relied upon. But suddenly her faith in
omens was confirmed for ever.

'My Lord, who was quite a young man still, and laughed at English
arrogance, rode on in front of his wife and friends, to catch the first
of a famous view, on the French side of the Pyrenee hills. He kissed his
hand to his wife, and said that he would save her the trouble of coming.
For those two were so one in one, that they could make each other know
whatever he or she had felt. And so my Lord went round the corner, with
a fine young horse leaping up at the steps.

'They waited for him, long and long; but he never came again; and within
a week, his mangled body lay in a little chapel_yard; and if the priests
only said a quarter of the prayers they took the money for, God knows
they can have no throats left; only a relaxation.

'My lady dwelled for six months more__it is a melancholy tale (what true
tale is not so?)__scarcely able to believe that all her fright was not a
dream. She would not wear a piece or shape of any mourning_clothes;
she would not have a person cry, or any sorrow among us. She simply
disbelieved the thing, and trusted God to right it. The Protestants, who
have no faith, cannot understand this feeling. Enough that so it was;
and so my Lady went to heaven.

'For when the snow came down in autumn on the roots of the Pyrenees, and
the chapel_yard was white with it, many people told the lady that it was
time for her to go. And the strongest plea of all was this, that now she
bore another hope of repeating her husband's virtues. So at the end of
October, when wolves came down to the farm_lands, the little English
family went home towards their England.

'They landed somewhere on the Devonshire coast, ten or eleven years
agone, and stayed some days at Exeter; and set out thence in a hired
coach, without any proper attendance, for Watchett, in the north of
Somerset. For the lady owned a quiet mansion in the neighbourhood of
that town, and her one desire was to find refuge there, and to meet her
lord, who was sure to come (she said) when he heard of his new infant.
Therefore with only two serving_men and two maids (including Benita),
the party set forth from Exeter, and lay the first night at Bampton.

'On the following morn they started bravely, with earnest hope of
arriving at their journey's end by daylight. But the roads were soft and
very deep, and the sloughs were out in places; and the heavy coach broke
down in the axle, and needed mending at Dulverton; and so they lost
three hours or more, and would have been wiser to sleep there. But her
ladyship would not hear of it; she must be home that night, she said,
and her husband would be waiting. How could she keep him waiting now,
after such a long, long time?

'Therefore, although it was afternoon, and the year now come to
December, the horses were put to again, and the heavy coach went up the
hill, with the lady and her two children, and Benita, sitting inside
of it; the other maid, and two serving_men (each man with a great
blunderbuss) mounted upon the outside; and upon the horses three Exeter
postilions. Much had been said at Dulverton, and even back at Bampton,
about some great freebooters, to whom all Exmoor owed suit and service,
and paid them very punctually. Both the serving_men were scared, even
over their ale, by this. But the lady only said, "Drive on; I know a
little of highwaymen: they never rob a lady."

'Through the fog and through the muck the coach went on, as best
it might; sometimes foundered in a slough, with half of the horses
splashing it, and some_times knuckled up on a bank, and straining across
the middle, while all the horses kicked at it. However, they went on
till dark as well as might be expected. But when they came, all thanking
God, to the pitch and slope of the sea_bank, leading on towards Watchett
town, and where my horse had shied so, there the little boy jumped up,
and clapped his hands at the water; and there (as Benita said) they met
their fate, and could not fly it.

'Although it was past the dusk of day, the silver light from the sea
flowed in, and showed the cliffs, and the gray sand_line, and the drifts
of wreck, and wrack_weed. It showed them also a troop of horsemen,
waiting under a rock hard by, and ready to dash upon them. The
postilions lashed towards the sea, and the horses strove in the depth of
sand, and the serving_men cocked their blunder_busses, and cowered away
behind them; but the lady stood up in the carriage bravely, and neither
screamed nor spoke, but hid her son behind her. Meanwhile the drivers
drove into the sea, till the leading horses were swimming.

'But before the waves came into the coach, a score of fierce men were
round it. They cursed the postilions for mad cowards, and cut the
traces, and seized the wheel_horses, all_wild with dismay in the wet and
the dark. Then, while the carriage was heeling over, and well_nigh upset
in the water, the lady exclaimed, "I know that man! He is our ancient
enemy;" and Benita (foreseeing that all their boxes would be turned
inside out, or carried away), snatched the most valuable of the jewels,
a magnificent necklace of diamonds, and cast it over the little girl's
head, and buried it under her travelling_cloak, hoping to save it. Then
a great wave, crested with foam, rolled in, and the coach was thrown
on its side, and the sea rushed in at the top and the windows, upon
shrieking, and clashing, and fainting away.

'What followed Benita knew not, as one might well suppose, herself being
stunned by a blow on the head, beside being palsied with terror. "See,
I have the mark now," she said, "where the jamb of the door came down on
me!" But when she recovered her senses, she found herself lying upon
the sand, the robbers were out of sight, and one of the serving_men was
bathing her forehead with sea water. For this she rated him well, having
taken already too much of that article; and then she arose and ran to
her mistress, who was sitting upright on a little rock, with her dead
boy's face to her bosom, sometimes gazing upon him, and sometimes
questing round for the other one.

'Although there were torches and links around, and she looked at her
child by the light of them, no one dared to approach the lady, or speak,
or try to help her. Each man whispered his fellow to go, but each hung
back himself, and muttered that it was too awful to meddle with. And
there she would have sat all night, with the fine little fellow stone
dead in her arms, and her tearless eyes dwelling upon him, and her heart
but not her mind thinking, only that the Italian women stole up softly
to her side, and whispered, "It is the will of God."

'"So it always seems to be," were all the words the mother' answered;
and then she fell on Benita's neck; and the men were ashamed to be near
her weeping; and a sailor lay down and bellowed. Surely these men are
the best.

'Before the light of the morning came along the tide to Watchett my Lady
had met her husband. They took her into the town that night, but not
to her own castle; and so the power of womanhood (which is itself
maternity) came over swiftly upon her. The lady, whom all people
loved (though at certain times particular), lies in Watchett little
churchyard, with son and heir at her right hand, and a little babe, of
sex unknown, sleeping on her bosom.

'This is a miserable tale,' said Jeremy Stickles brightly; 'hand me
over the schnapps, my boy. What fools we are to spoil our eyes for other
people's troubles! Enough of our own to keep them clean, although we
all were chimney_sweeps. There is nothing like good hollands, when a
man becomes too sensitive. Restore the action of the glands; that is
my rule, after weeping. Let me make you another, John. You are quite
low_spirited.'

But although Master Jeremy carried on so (as became his manhood), and
laughed at the sailor's bellowing; bless his heart, I knew as well that
tears were in his brave keen eyes, as if I had dared to look for them,
or to show mine own.

'And what was the lady's name?' I asked; 'and what became of the little
girl? And why did the woman stay there?'

'Well!' cried Jeremy Stickles, only too glad to be cheerful again: 'talk
of a woman after that! As we used to say at school__"Who dragged whom,
how many times, in what manner, round the wall of what?" But to begin,
last first, my John (as becomes a woman): Benita stayed in that blessed
place, because she could not get away from it. The Doones__if Doones
indeed they were, about which you of course know best__took every stiver
out of the carriage: wet or dry they took it. And Benita could never get
her wages: for the whole affair is in Chancery, and they have appointed
a receiver.'

'Whew!' said I, knowing something of London, and sorry for Benita's
chance.

'So the poor thing was compelled to drop all thought of Apulia, and
settle down on the brink of Exmoor, where you get all its evils, without
the good to balance them. She married a man who turned a wheel for
making the blue Watchett ware, partly because he could give her a house,
and partly because he proved himself a good soul towards my Lady. There
they are, and have three children; and there you may go and visit them.'

'I understand all that, Jeremy, though you do tell things too quickly,
and I would rather have John Fry's style; for he leaves one time for
his words to melt. Now for my second question. What became of the little
maid?'

'You great oaf!' cried Jeremy Stickles: 'you are rather more likely to
know, I should think, than any one else in all the kingdoms.'

'If I knew, I should not ask you. Jeremy Stickles, do try to be neither
conceited nor thick_headed.'

'I will when you are neither,' answered Master Jeremy; 'but you occupy
all the room, John. No one else can get in with you there.'

'Very well then, let me out. Take me down in both ways.'

'If ever you were taken down; you must have your double joints ready
now. And yet in other ways you will be as proud and set up as Lucifer.
As certain sure as I stand here, that little maid is Lorna Doone.'



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 54

MUTUAL DISCOMFITURE

It must not be supposed that I was altogether so thick_headed as Jeremy
would have made me out. But it is part of my character that I like other
people to think me slow, and to labour hard to enlighten me, while all
the time I can say to myself, 'This man is shallower than I am; it is
pleasant to see his shoals come up while he is sounding mine so!' Not
that I would so behave, God forbid, with anybody (be it man or woman)
who in simple heart approached me, with no gauge of intellect. But when
the upper hand is taken, upon the faith of one's patience, by a man of
even smaller wits (not that Jeremy was that, neither could he have lived
to be thought so), why, it naturally happens, that we knuckle under,
with an ounce of indignation.

Jeremy's tale would have moved me greatly both with sorrow and anger,
even without my guess at first, and now my firm belief, that the child
of those unlucky parents was indeed my Lorna. And as I thought of the
lady's troubles, and her faith in Providence, and her cruel, childless
death, and then imagined how my darling would be overcome to hear it,
you may well believe that my quick replies to Jeremy Stickles's banter
were but as the flourish of a drum to cover the sounds of pain.

For when he described the heavy coach and the persons in and upon it,
and the breaking down at Dulverton, and the place of their destination,
as well as the time and the weather, and the season of the year, my
heart began to burn within me, and my mind replaced the pictures, first
of the foreign lady's_maid by the pump caressing me, and then of the
coach struggling up the hill, and the beautiful dame, and the fine
little boy, with the white cockade in his hat; but most of all the
little girl, dark_haired and very lovely, and having even in those days
the rich soft look of Lorna.

But when he spoke of the necklace thrown over the head of the little
maiden, and of her disappearance, before my eyes arose at once the
flashing of the beacon_fire, the lonely moors embrowned with the light,
the tramp of the outlaw cavalcade, and the helpless child head_downward,
lying across the robber's saddle_bow.

Then I remembered my own mad shout of boyish indignation, and marvelled
at the strange long way by which the events of life come round. And
while I thought of my own return, and childish attempt to hide myself
from sorrow in the sawpit, and the agony of my mother's tears, it did
not fail to strike me as a thing of omen, that the selfsame day should
be, both to my darling and myself, the blackest and most miserable of
all youthful days.

The King's Commissioner thought it wise, for some good reason of his
own, to conceal from me, for the present, the name of the poor lady
supposed to be Lorna's mother; and knowing that I could easily now
discover it, without him, I let that question abide awhile. Indeed I was
half afraid to hear it, remembering that the nobler and the wealthier
she proved to be, the smaller was my chance of winning such a wife for
plain John Ridd. Not that she would give me up: that I never dreamed of.
But that others would interfere; or indeed I myself might find it only
honest to relinquish her. That last thought was a dreadful blow, and
took my breath away from me.

Jeremy Stickles was quite decided__and of course the discovery being
his, he had a right to be so__that not a word of all these things must
be imparted to Lorna herself, or even to my mother, or any one
whatever. 'Keep it tight as wax, my lad,' he cried, with a wink of
great expression; 'this belongs to me, mind; and the credit, ay, and the
premium, and the right of discount, are altogether mine. It would have
taken you fifty years to put two and two together so, as I did, like a
clap of thunder. Ah, God has given some men brains; and others have good
farms and money, and a certain skill in the lower beasts. Each must use
his special talent. You work your farm: I work my brains. In the end, my
lad, I shall beat you.'

'Then, Jeremy, what a fool you must be, if you cudgel your brains to
make money of this, to open the barn_door to me, and show me all your
threshing.'

'Not a whit, my son. Quite the opposite. Two men always thresh better
than one. And here I have you bound to use your flail, one two, with
mine, and yet in strictest honour bound not to bushel up, till I tell
you.'

'But,' said I, being much amused by a Londoner's brave, yet uncertain,
use of simplest rural metaphors, for he had wholly forgotten the
winnowing: 'surely if I bushel up, even when you tell me, I must take
half_measure.'

'So you shall, my boy,' he answered, 'if we can only cheat those
confounded knaves of Equity. You shall take the beauty, my son, and
the elegance, and the love, and all that__and, my boy, I will take the
money.'

This he said in a way so dry, and yet so richly unctuous, that being
gifted somehow by God, with a kind of sense of queerness, I fell back in
my chair, and laughed, though the underside of my laugh was tears.

'Now, Jeremy, how if I refuse to keep this half as tight as wax. You
bound me to no such partnership, before you told the story; and I am not
sure, by any means, of your right to do so afterwards.'

'Tush!' he replied: 'I know you too well, to look for meanness in you.
If from pure goodwill, John Ridd, and anxiety to relieve you, I made no
condition precedent, you are not the man to take advantage, as a lawyer
might. I do not even want your promise. As sure as I hold this glass,
and drink your health and love in another drop (forced on me by pathetic
words), so surely will you be bound to me, until I do release you. Tush!
I know men well by this time: a mere look of trust from one is worth
another's ten thousand oaths.'

'Jeremy, you are right,' I answered; 'at least as regards the issue.
Although perhaps you were not right in leading me into a bargain like
this, without my own consent or knowledge. But supposing that we should
both be shot in this grand attack on the valley (for I mean to go
with you now, heart and soul), is Lorna to remain untold of that which
changes all her life?'

'Both shot!' cried Jeremy Stickles: 'my goodness, boy, talk not like
that! And those Doones are cursed good shots too. Nay, nay, the yellows
shall go in front; we attack on the Somerset side, I think. I from a
hill will reconnoitre, as behoves a general, you shall stick behind a
tree, if we can only find one big enough to hide you. You and I to be
shot, John Ridd, with all this inferior food for powder anxious to be
devoured?'

I laughed, for I knew his cool hardihood, and never_flinching courage;
and sooth to say no coward would have dared to talk like that.

'But when one comes to think of it,' he continued, smiling at himself;
'some provision should be made for even that unpleasant chance. I will
leave the whole in writing, with orders to be opened, etc., etc.__Now no
more of that, my boy; a cigarro after schnapps, and go to meet my yellow
boys.'

His 'yellow boys,' as he called the Somersetshire trained bands, were
even now coming down the valley from the London Road, as every one since
I went up to town, grandly entitled the lane to the moors. There was one
good point about these men, that having no discipline at all, they made
pretence to none whatever. Nay, rather they ridiculed the thing, as
below men of any spirit. On the other hand, Master Stickles's troopers
looked down on these native fellows from a height which I hope they may
never tumble, for it would break the necks of all of them.

Now these fine natives came along, singing, for their very lives, a song
the like of which set down here would oust my book from modest
people, and make everybody say, 'this man never can have loved Lorna.'
Therefore, the less of that the better; only I thought, 'what a
difference from the goodly psalms of the ale house!'

Having finished their canticle, which contained more mirth than melody,
they drew themselves up, in a sort of way supposed by them to be
military, each man with heel and elbow struck into those of his
neighbour, and saluted the King's Commissioner. 'Why, where are your
officers?' asked Master Stickles; 'how is it that you have no officers?'
Upon this there arose a general grin, and a knowing look passed along
their faces, even up to the man by the gatepost. 'Are you going to tell
me, or not,' said Jeremy, 'what is become of your officers?'

'Plaise zur,' said one little fellow at last, being nodded at by the
rest to speak, in right of his known eloquence; 'hus tould Harfizers, as
a wor no nade of un, now King's man hiszell wor coom, a puppose vor to
command us laike.'

'And do you mean to say, you villains,' cried Jeremy, scarce knowing
whether to laugh, or to swear, or what to do; 'that your officers took
their dismissal thus, and let you come on without them?'

'What could 'em do?' asked the little man, with reason certainly on his
side: 'hus zent 'em about their business, and they was glad enough to
goo.'

'Well!' said poor Jeremy, turning to me; 'a pretty state of things,
John! Threescore cobblers, and farming men, plasterers, tailors, and
kettles_to_mend; and not a man to keep order among them, except my
blessed self, John! And I trow there is not one among them could hit all
in_door flying. The Doones will make riddles of all of us.'

However, he had better hopes when the sons of Devon appeared, as
they did in about an hour's time; fine fellows, and eager to prove
themselves. These had not discarded their officers, but marched in good
obedience to them, and were quite prepared to fight the men of Somerset
(if need be) in addition to the Doones. And there was scarcely a man
among them but could have trounced three of the yellow men, and would
have done it gladly too, in honour of the red facings.

'Do you mean to suppose, Master Jeremy Stickles,' said I, looking on
with amazement, beholding also all our maidens at the upstair windows
wondering; 'that we, my mother a widow woman, and I a young man of small
estate, can keep and support all these precious fellows, both yellow
ones, and red ones, until they have taken the Doone Glen?'

'God forbid it, my son!' he replied, laying a finger upon his lip:
'Nay, nay, I am not of the shabby order, when I have the strings of
government. Kill your sheep at famine prices, and knead your bread at
a figure expressing the rigours of last winter. Let Annie make out the
bill every day, and I at night will double it. You may take my word for
it, Master John, this spring_harvest shall bring you in three times
as much as last autumn's did. If they cheated you in town, my lad, you
shall have your change in the country. Take thy bill, and write down
quickly.'

However this did not meet my views of what an honest man should do; and
I went to consult my mother about it, as all the accounts would be made
in her name.

Dear mother thought that if the King paid only half again as much as
other people would have to pay, it would be perhaps the proper thing;
the half being due for loyalty: and here she quoted an ancient saying,__

The King and his staff. Be a man and a half:

which, according to her judgment, ruled beyond dispute the law of the
present question. To argue with her after that (which she brought up
with such triumph) would have been worse than useless. Therefore I just
told Annie to make the bills at a third below the current market prices;
so that the upshot would be fair. She promised me honestly that she
would; but with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes, which she must have
caught from Tom Faggus. It always has appeared to me that stern and
downright honesty upon money matters is a thing not understood of women;
be they as good as good can be.

The yellows and the reds together numbered a hundred and twenty men,
most of whom slept in our barns and stacks; and besides these we had
fifteen troopers of the regular army. You may suppose that all the
country was turned upside down about it; and the folk who came to see
them drill__by no means a needless exercise__were a greater plague
than the soldiers. The officers too of the Devonshire hand were such a
torment to us, that we almost wished their men had dismissed them, as
the Somerset troop had done with theirs. For we could not keep them out
of our house, being all young men of good family, and therefore not to
be met with bars. And having now three lovely maidens (for even Lizzie
might be called so, when she cared to please), mother and I were at
wit's ends, on account of those blessed officers. I never got a wink of
sleep; they came whistling under the window so; and directly I went out
to chase them, there was nothing but a cat to see.

Therefore all of us were right glad (except perhaps Farmer Snowe, from
whom we had bought some victuals at rare price), when Jeremy Stickles
gave orders to march, and we began to try to do it. A good deal of
boasting went overhead, as our men defiled along the lane; and the thick
broad patins of pennywort jutted out between the stones, ready to
heal their bruises. The parish choir came part of the way, and the
singing_loft from Countisbury; and they kept our soldiers' spirits up
with some of the most pugnacious Psalms. Parson Bowden marched ahead,
leading all our van and file, as against the Papists; and promising
to go with us, till we came to bullet distance. Therefore we marched
bravely on, and children came to look at us. And I wondered where Uncle
Reuben was, who ought to have led the culverins (whereof we had no less
than three), if Stickles could only have found him; and then I thought
of little Ruth; and without any fault on my part, my heart went down
within me.

The culverins were laid on bark; and all our horses pulling them, and
looking round every now and then, with their ears curved up like a
squirrel'd nut, and their noses tossing anxiously, to know what sort
of plough it was man had been pleased to put behind them__man, whose
endless whims and wildness they could never understand, any more than
they could satisfy. However, they pulled their very best__as all our
horses always do__and the culverins went up the hill, without smack
of whip, or swearing. It had been arranged, very justly, no doubt, and
quite in keeping with the spirit of the Constitution, but as it proved
not too wisely, that either body of men should act in its own county
only. So when we reached the top of the hill, the sons of Devon marched
on, and across the track leading into Doone_gate, so as to fetch round
the western side, and attack with their culverin from the cliffs, whence
the sentry had challenged me on the night of my passing the entrance.
Meanwhile the yellow lads were to stay upon the eastern highland, whence
Uncle Reuben and myself had reconnoitred so long ago; and whence I had
leaped into the valley at the time of the great snow_drifts. And here
they were not to show themselves; but keep their culverin in the woods,
until their cousins of Devon appeared on the opposite parapet of the
glen.

The third culverin was entrusted to the fifteen troopers; who, with ten
picked soldiers from either trained hand, making in all five_and_thirty
men, were to assault the Doone_gate itself, while the outlaws were
placed between two fires from the eastern cliff and the western. And
with this force went Jeremy Stickles, and with it went myself, as
knowing more about the passage than any other stranger did. Therefore,
if I have put it clearly, as I strive to do, you will see that the
Doones must repulse at once three simultaneous attacks, from an army
numbering in the whole one hundred and thirty_five men, not including
the Devonshire officers; fifty men on each side, I mean, and thirty_five
at the head of the valley.

The tactics of this grand campaign appeared to me so clever, and
beautifully ordered, that I commended Colonel Stickles, as everybody
now called him, for his great ability and mastery of the art of war. He
admitted that he deserved high praise; but said that he was not by any
means equally certain of success, so large a proportion of his forces
being only a raw militia, brave enough no doubt for anything, when they
saw their way to it; but knowing little of gunnery, and wholly unused
to be shot at. Whereas all the Doones were practised marksmen, being
compelled when lads (like the Balearic slingers) to strike down their
meals before tasting them. And then Colonel Stickles asked me, whether I
myself could stand fire; he knew that I was not a coward, but this was
a different question. I told him that I had been shot at, once or twice
before; but nevertheless disliked it, as much as almost anything. Upon
that he said that I would do; for that when a man got over the first
blush of diffidence, he soon began to look upon it as a puff of destiny.

I wish I could only tell what happened, in the battle of that day,
especially as nearly all the people round these parts, who never saw
gun_fire in it, have gotten the tale so much amiss; and some of them
will even stand in front of my own hearth, and contradict me to the
teeth; although at the time they were not born, nor their fathers put
into breeches. But in truth, I cannot tell, exactly, even the part in
which I helped, how then can I be expected, time by time, to lay before
you, all the little ins and outs of places, where I myself was not? Only
I can contradict things, which I know could not have been; and what I
plainly saw should not be controverted in my own house.

Now we five_and_thirty men lay back a little way round the corner,
in the hollow of the track which leads to the strong Doone_gate. Our
culverin was in amongst us, loaded now to the muzzle, and it was not
comfortable to know that it might go off at any time. Although the
yeomanry were not come (according to arrangement), some of us had horses
there; besides the horses who dragged the cannon, and now were sniffing
at it. And there were plenty of spectators to mind these horses for us,
as soon as we should charge; inasmuch as all our friends and neighbours,
who had so keenly prepared for the battle, now resolved to take no part,
but look on, and praise the winners.

At last we heard the loud bang_bang, which proved that Devon and
Somerset were pouring their indignation hot into the den of malefactors,
or at least so we supposed; therefore at double quick march we advanced
round the bend of the cliff which had hidden us, hoping to find the gate
undefended, and to blow down all barriers with the fire of our cannon.
And indeed it seemed likely at first to be so, for the wild and
mountainous gorge of rock appeared to be all in pure loneliness, except
where the coloured coats of our soldiers, and their metal trappings,
shone with the sun behind them. Therefore we shouted a loud hurrah, as
for an easy victory.

But while the sound of our cheer rang back among the crags above us, a
shrill clear whistle cleft the air for a single moment, and then a dozen
carbines bellowed, and all among us flew murderous lead. Several of our
men rolled over, but the rest rushed on like Britons, Jeremy and myself
in front, while we heard the horses plunging at the loaded gun behind
us. 'Now, my lads,' cried Jeremy, 'one dash, and we are beyond them!'
For he saw that the foe was overhead in the gallery of brushwood.

Our men with a brave shout answered him, for his courage was fine
example; and we leaped in under the feet of the foe, before they could
load their guns again. But here, when the foremost among us were past,
an awful crash rang behind us, with the shrieks of men, and the din of
metal, and the horrible screaming of horses. The trunk of the tree
had been launched overhead, and crashed into the very midst of us. Our
cannon was under it, so were two men, and a horse with his poor back
broken. Another horse vainly struggled to rise, with his thigh_bone
smashed and protruding.

Now I lost all presence of mind at this, for I loved both those good
horses, and shouting for any to follow me, dashed headlong into the
cavern. Some five or six men came after me, the foremost of whom was
Jeremy, when a storm of shot whistled and patted around me, with a blaze
of light and a thunderous roar. On I leaped, like a madman, and pounced
on one gunner, and hurled him across his culverin; but the others had
fled, and a heavy oak door fell to with a bang, behind them. So utterly
were my senses gone, and naught but strength remaining, that I caught up
the cannon with both hands, and dashed it, breech_first, at the doorway.
The solid oak burst with the blow, and the gun stuck fast, like a
builder's putlog.

But here I looked round in vain for any one to come and follow up my
success. The scanty light showed me no figure moving through the length
of the tunnel behind me; only a heavy groan or two went to my heart, and
chilled it. So I hurried back to seek Jeremy, fearing that he must be
smitten down.

And so indeed I found him, as well as three other poor fellows, struck
by the charge of the culverin, which had passed so close beside me. Two
of the four were as dead as stones, and growing cold already, but Jeremy
and the other could manage to groan, just now and then. So I turned my
attention to them, and thought no more of fighting.

Having so many wounded men, and so many dead among us, we loitered at
the cavern's mouth, and looked at one another, wishing only for somebody
to come and take command of us. But no one came; and I was griefed so
much about poor Jeremy, besides being wholly unused to any violence of
bloodshed, that I could only keep his head up, and try to stop him from
bleeding. And he looked up at me pitifully, being perhaps in a haze of
thought, as a calf looks at a butcher.

The shot had taken him in the mouth; about that no doubt could be, for
two of his teeth were in his beard, and one of his lips was wanting. I
laid his shattered face on my breast, and nursed him, as a woman might.
But he looked at me with a jerk at this; and I saw that he wanted
coolness.

While here we stayed, quite out of danger (for the fellows from the
gallery could by no means shoot us, even if they remained there, and the
oaken door whence the others fled was blocked up by the culverin), a boy
who had no business there (being in fact our clerk's apprentice to the
art of shoe_making) came round the corner upon us in the manner which
boys, and only boys, can use with grace and freedom; that is to say,
with a sudden rush, and a sidelong step, and an impudence,__

'Got the worst of it!' cried the boy; 'better be off all of you.
Zoomerzett and Devon a vighting; and the Doones have drashed 'em both.
Maister Ridd, even thee be drashed.'

We few, who yet remained of the force which was to have won the
Doone_gate, gazed at one another, like so many fools, and nothing more.
For we still had some faint hopes of winning the day, and recovering our
reputation, by means of what the other men might have done without us.
And we could not understand at all how Devonshire and Somerset, being
embarked in the same cause, should be fighting with one another.

Finding nothing more to be done in the way of carrying on the war, we
laid poor Master Stickles and two more of the wounded upon the carriage
of bark and hurdles, whereon our gun had lain; and we rolled the gun
into the river, and harnessed the horses yet alive, and put the others
out of their pain, and sadly wended homewards, feeling ourselves to be
thoroughly beaten, yet ready to maintain that it was no fault of ours
whatever. And in this opinion the women joined, being only too glad and
thankful to see us home alive again.

Now, this enterprise having failed so, I prefer not to dwell too long
upon it; only just to show the mischief which lay at the root of the
failure. And this mischief was the vile jealousy betwixt red and yellow
uniform. Now I try to speak impartially, belonging no more to Somerset
than I do to Devonshire, living upon the borders, and born of either
county. The tale was told me by one side first; and then quite to a
different tune by the other; and then by both together, with very hot
words of reviling, and a desire to fight it out again. And putting this
with that, the truth appears to be as follows:__

The men of Devon, who bore red facings, had a long way to go round the
hills, before they could get into due position on the western side of
the Doone Glen. And knowing that their cousins in yellow would claim the
whole of the glory, if allowed to be first with the firing, these worthy
fellows waited not to take good aim with their cannons, seeing the
others about to shoot; but fettled it anyhow on the slope, pointing in a
general direction; and trusting in God for aimworthiness, laid the rope
to the breech, and fired. Now as Providence ordained it, the shot,
which was a casual mixture of anything considered hard__for instance,
jug_bottoms and knobs of doors__the whole of this pernicious dose came
scattering and shattering among the unfortunate yellow men upon the
opposite cliff; killing one and wounding two.

Now what did the men of Somerset do, but instead of waiting for their
friends to send round and beg pardon, train their gun full mouth upon
them, and with a vicious meaning shoot. Not only this, but they loudly
cheered, when they saw four or five red coats lie low; for which savage
feeling not even the remarks of the Devonshire men concerning their
coats could entirely excuse them. Now I need not tell the rest of it,
for the tale makes a man discontented. Enough that both sides waxed
hotter and hotter with the fire of destruction. And but that the gorge
of the cliffs lay between, very few would have lived to tell of it; for
our western blood becomes stiff and firm, when churned with the sense of
wrong in it.

At last the Doones (who must have laughed at the thunder passing
overhead) recalling their men from the gallery, issued out of Gwenny's
gate (which had been wholly overlooked) and fell on the rear of
the Somerset men, and slew four beside their cannon. Then while the
survivors ran away, the outlaws took the hot culverin, and rolled it
down into their valley. Thus, of the three guns set forth that morning,
only one ever came home again, and that was the gun of the Devonshire
men, who dragged it home themselves, with the view of making a boast
about it.

This was a melancholy end of our brave setting out, and everybody blamed
every one else; and several of us wanted to have the whole thing over
again, as then we must have righted it. But upon one point all agreed,
by some reason not clear to me, that the root of the evil was to be
found in the way Parson Bowden went up the hill, with his hat on, and no
cassock.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 55

GETTING INTO CHANCERY

Two of the Devonshire officers (Captains Pyke and Dallan) now took
command of the men who were left, and ordered all to go home again,
commending much the bravery which had been displayed on all sides, and
the loyalty to the King, and the English constitution. This last word
always seems to me to settle everything when said, because nobody
understands it, and yet all can puzzle their neighbours. So the
Devonshire men, having beans to sow (which they ought to have done on
Good Friday) went home; and our Somerset friends only stayed for two
days more to backbite them.

To me the whole thing was purely grievous; not from any sense of defeat
(though that was bad enough) but from the pain and anguish caused by
death, and wounds, and mourning. 'Surely we have woes enough,' I used to
think of an evening, when the poor fellows could not sleep or rest, or
let others rest around them; 'surely all this smell of wounds is not
incense men should pay to the God who made them. Death, when it comes
and is done with, may be a bliss to any one; but the doubt of life or
death, when a man lies, as it were, like a trunk upon a sawpit and a
grisly head looks up at him, and the groans of pain are cleaving him,
this would be beyond all bearing__but for Nature's sap__sweet hope.'

Jeremy Stickles lay and tossed, and thrust up his feet in agony, and
bit with his lipless mouth the clothes, and was proud to see blood upon
them. He looked at us ever so many times, as much as to say, 'Fools, let
me die, then I shall have some comfort'; but we nodded at him sagely,
especially the women, trying to convey to him, on no account to die yet.
And then we talked to one another (on purpose for him to hear us), how
brave he was, and not the man to knock under in a hurry, and how he
should have the victory yet; and how well he looked, considering.

These things cheered him a little now, and a little more next time; and
every time we went on so, he took it with less impatience. Then once
when he had been very quiet, and not even tried to frown at us, Annie
leaned over, and kissed his forehead, and spread the pillows and sheet,
with a curve as delicate as his own white ears; and then he feebly
lifted hands, and prayed to God to bless her. And after that he came
round gently; though never to the man he had been, and never to speak
loud again.

For a time (as I may have implied before) Master Stickles's authority,
and manner of levying duties, had not been taken kindly by the people
round our neighbourhood. The manors of East Lynn and West Lynn, and even
that of Woolhanger__although just then all three were at issue about
some rights of wreck, and the hanging of a sheep_stealer (a man of no
great eminence, yet claimed by each for the sake of his clothes)__these
three, having their rights impugned, or even superseded, as they
declared by the quartering of soldiers in their neighbourhood, united
very kindly to oppose the King's Commissioner. However, Jeremy had
contrived to conciliate the whole of them, not so much by anything
engaging in his deportment or delicate address, as by holding out bright
hopes that the plunder of the Doone Glen might become divisible among
the adjoining manors. Now I have never discovered a thing which the
lords of manors (at least in our part of the world) do not believe to
belong to themselves, if only they could get their rights. And it
did seem natural enough that if the Doones were ousted, and a nice
collection of prey remained, this should be parted among the people
having ancient rights of plunder. Nevertheless, Master Jeremy knew that
the soldiers would have the first of it, and the King what they could
not carry.

And perhaps he was punished justly for language so misleading, by the
general indignation of the people all around us, not at his failure, but
at himself, for that which he could in no wise prevent. And the stewards
of the manors rode up to our house on purpose to reproach him, and were
greatly vexed with all of us, because he was too ill to see them.

To myself (though by rights the last to be thought of, among so much
pain and trouble) Jeremy's wound was a great misfortune, in more ways
than one. In the first place, it deferred my chance of imparting either
to my mother or to Mistress Lorna my firm belief that the maid I loved
was not sprung from the race which had slain my father; neither could
he in any way have offended against her family. And this discovery I was
yearning more and more to declare to them; being forced to see (even
in the midst of all our warlike troubles) that a certain difference was
growing betwixt them both, and betwixt them and me. For although the
words of the Counsellor had seemed to fail among us, being bravely
met and scattered, yet our courage was but as wind flinging wide the
tare_seeds, when the sower casts them from his bag. The crop may not
come evenly, many places may long lie bare, and the field be all in
patches; yet almost every vetch will spring, and tiller out, and stretch
across the scatterings where the wind puffed.

And so dear mother and darling Lorna now had been for many a day
thinking, worrying, and wearing, about the matter between us. Neither
liked to look at the other, as they used to do; with mother admiring
Lorna's eyes, and grace, and form of breeding; and Lorna loving mother's
goodness, softness, and simplicity. And the saddest and most hurtful
thing was that neither could ask the other of the shadow falling between
them. And so it went on, and deepened.

In the next place Colonel Stickles's illness was a grievous thing to
us, in that we had no one now to command the troopers. Ten of these were
still alive, and so well approved to us, that they could never fancy
aught, whether for dinner or supper, without its being forth_coming. If
they wanted trout they should have it; if colloped venison, or broiled
ham, or salmon from Lynmouth and Trentisoe, or truffles from the
woodside, all these were at the warriors' service, until they lusted for
something else. Even the wounded men ate nobly; all except poor Jeremy,
who was forced to have a young elder shoot, with the pith drawn, for to
feed him. And once, when they wanted pickled loach (from my description
of it), I took up my boyish sport again, and pronged them a good jarful.
Therefore, none of them could complain; and yet they were not satisfied;
perhaps for want of complaining.

Be that as it might, we knew that if they once resolved to go (as they
might do at any time, with only a corporal over them) all our house, and
all our goods, ay, and our own precious lives, would and must be at the
mercy of embittered enemies. For now the Doones, having driven back, as
every one said, five hundred men__though not thirty had ever fought with
them__were in such feather all round the country, that nothing was too
good for them. Offerings poured in at the Doone gate, faster than Doones
could away with them, and the sympathy both of Devon and Somerset became
almost oppressive. And perhaps this wealth of congratulation, and mutual
good feeling between plundered and victim, saved us from any piece of
spite; kindliness having won the day, and every one loving every one.

But yet another cause arose, and this the strongest one of all, to prove
the need of Stickles's aid, and calamity of his illness. And this came
to our knowledge first, without much time to think of it. For two men
appeared at our gate one day, stripped to their shirts, and void of
horses, and looking very sorrowful. Now having some fear of attack from
the Doones, and scarce knowing what their tricks might be, we received
these strangers cautiously, desiring to know who they were before we let
them see all our premises.

However, it soon became plain to us that although they might not be
honest fellows, at any rate they were not Doones; and so we took them
in, and fed, and left them to tell their business. And this they were
glad enough to do; as men who have been maltreated almost always are.
And it was not for us to contradict them, lest our victuals should go
amiss.

These two very worthy fellows__nay, more than that by their own account,
being downright martyrs__were come, for the public benefit, from the
Court of Chancery, sitting for everybody's good, and boldly redressing
evil. This court has a power of scent unknown to the Common_law
practitioners, and slowly yet surely tracks its game; even as the great
lumbering dogs, now introduced from Spain, and called by some people
'pointers,' differ from the swift gaze_hound, who sees his prey and runs
him down in the manner of the common lawyers. If a man's ill fate should
drive him to make a choice between these two, let him rather be chased
by the hounds of law, than tracked by the dogs of Equity.

Now, as it fell in a very black day (for all except the lawyers) His
Majesty's Court of Chancery, if that be what it called itself, gained
scent of poor Lorna's life, and of all that might be made of it. Whether
through that brave young lord who ran into such peril, or through any
of his friends, or whether through that deep old Counsellor, whose game
none might penetrate; or through any disclosures of the Italian woman,
or even of Jeremy himself; none just now could tell us; only this truth
was too clear__Chancery had heard of Lorna, and then had seen how
rich she was; and never delaying in one thing, had opened mouth, and
swallowed her.

The Doones, with a share of that dry humour which was in them
hereditary, had welcomed the two apparitors (if that be the proper name
for them) and led them kindly down the valley, and told them then to
serve their writ. Misliking the look of things, these poor men began to
fumble among their clothes; upon which the Doones cried, 'off with them!
Let us see if your message he on your skins.' And with no more manners
than that, they stripped, and lashed them out of the valley; only
bidding them come to us, if they wanted Lorna Doone; and to us they came
accordingly. Neither were they sure at first but that we should treat
them so; for they had no knowledge of the west country, and thought it
quite a godless place, wherein no writ was holy.

We however comforted and cheered them so considerably, that, in
gratitude, they showed their writs, to which they had stuck like
leeches. And these were twofold; one addressed to Mistress Lorna Doone,
so called, and bidding her keep in readiness to travel whenever called
upon, and commit herself to nobody, except the accredited messengers
of the right honourable Court; while the other was addressed to all
subjects of His Majesty, having custody of Lorna Doone, or any power
over her. And this last threatened and exhorted, and held out hopes
of recompense, if she were rendered truly. My mother and I held
consultation, over both these documents, with a mixture of some wrath
and fear, and a fork of great sorrow to stir them. And now having Jeremy
Stickles's leave, which he gave with a nod when I told him all, and at
last made him understand it, I laid bare to my mother as well what
I knew, as what I merely surmised, or guessed, concerning Lorna's
parentage. All this she received with great tears, and wonder, and
fervent thanks to God, and still more fervent praise of her son, who had
nothing whatever to do with it. However, now the question was, how to
act about these writs. And herein it was most unlucky that we could not
have Master Stickles, with his knowledge of the world, and especially
of the law_courts, to advise us what to do, and to help in doing it. And
firstly of the first I said, 'We have rogues to deal with; but try we
not to rogue them.'

To this, in some measure, dear mother agreed, though she could not see
the justice of it, yet thought that it might be wiser, because of our
want of practice. And then I said, 'Now we are bound to tell Lorna, and
to serve her citation upon her, which these good fellows have given us.'

'Then go, and do it thyself, my son,' mother replied with a mournful
smile, misdoubting what the end might be. So I took the slip of brown
parchment, and went to seek my darling.

Lorna was in her favourite place, the little garden which she tended
with such care and diligence. Seeing how the maiden loved it, and was
happy there, I had laboured hard to fence it from the dangers of the
wood. And here she had corrected me, with better taste, and sense of
pleasure, and the joys of musing. For I meant to shut out the brook, and
build my fence inside of it; but Lorna said no; if we must have a fence,
which could not but be injury, at any rate leave the stream inside,
and a pleasant bank beyond it. And soon I perceived that she was right,
though not so much as afterwards; for the fairest of all things in a
garden, and in summer_time most useful, is a brook of crystal water;
where a man may come and meditate, and the flowers may lean and see
themselves, and the rays of the sun are purfied. Now partly with her own
white hands, and partly with Gwenny's red ones, Lorna had made of this
sunny spot a haven of beauty to dwell in. It was not only that colours
lay in the harmony we would seek of them, neither was it the height of
plants, sloping to one another; nor even the delicate tone of foliage
following suit, and neighbouring. Even the breathing of the wind, soft
and gentle in and out, moving things that need not move, and passing
longer_stalked ones, even this was not enough among the flush of
fragrance, to tell a man the reason of his quiet satisfaction. But so it
shall for ever be. As the river we float upon (with wine, and flowers,
and music,) is nothing at the well_spring but a bubble without reason.

Feeling many things, but thinking without much to guide me, over the
grass_plats laid between, I went up to Lorna. She in a shower of damask
roses, raised her eyes and looked at me. And even now, in those sweet
eyes, so deep with loving_kindness, and soft maiden dreamings, there
seemed to be a slight unwilling, half confessed withdrawal; overcome by
love and duty, yet a painful thing to see.

'Darling,' I said, 'are your spirits good? Are you strong enough to_day,
to bear a tale of cruel sorrow; but which perhaps, when your tears are
shed, will leave you all the happier?'

'What can you mean?' she answered trembling, not having been vey strong
of late, and now surprised at my manner; 'are you come to give me up,
John?'

'Not very likely,' I replied; 'neither do I hope such a thing would
leave you all the happier. Oh, Lorna, if you can think that so quickly
as you seem to have done, now you have every prospect and strong
temptation to it. You are far, far above me in the world, and I have no
right to claim you. Perhaps, when you have heard these tidings you will
say, "John Ridd, begone; your life and mine are parted."'

'Will I?' cried Lorna, with all the brightness of her playful ways
returning: 'you very foolish and jealous John, how shall I punish you
for this? Am I to forsake every flower I have, and not even know that
the world goes round, while I look up at you, the whole day long and
say, "John, I love, love, love you?"'

During these words she leaned upon me, half in gay imitation of what
I had so often made her do, and half in depth of earnestness, as the
thrice_repeated word grew stronger, and grew warmer, with and to her
heart. And as she looked up at the finish, saying, 'you,' so musically,
I was much inclined to clasp her round; but remembering who she was,
forbore; at which she seemed surprised with me.

'Mistress Lorna, I replied, with I know not what temptation, making
little of her caresses, though more than all my heart to me: 'Mistress
Lorna, you must keep your rank and proper dignity. You must never look
at me with anything but pity now.'

'I shall look at you with pity, John,' said Lorna, trying to laugh it
off, yet not knowing what to make of me, 'if you talk any more of this
nonsense, knowing me as you ought to do. I shall even begin to think
that you, and your friends, are weary of me, and of so long supporting
me; and are only seeking cause to send me back to my old misery. If it
be so, I will go. My life matters little to any one.' Here the great
bright tears arose; but the maiden was too proud to sob.

'Sweetest of all sweet loves,' I cried, for the sign of a tear defeated
me; 'what possibility could make me ever give up Lorna?'

'Dearest of all dears,' she answered; 'if you dearly love me, what
possibility could ever make me give you up, dear?'

Upon that there was no more forbearing, but I kissed and clasped her,
whether she were Countess, or whether Queen of England; mine she was, at
least in heart; and mine she should be wholly. And she being of the same
opinion, nothing was said between us.

'Now, Lorna,' said I, as she hung on my arm, willing to trust me
anywhere, 'come to your little plant_house, and hear my moving story.'

'No story can move me much, dear,' she answered rather faintly, for any
excitement stayed with her; 'since I know your strength of kindness,
scarcely any tale can move me, unless it be of yourself, love; or of my
poor mother.'

'It is of your poor mother, darling. Can you bear to hear it?' And yet I
wondered why she did not say as much of her father.

'Yes, I can bear anything. But although I cannot see her, and have long
forgotten, I could not bear to hear ill of her.'

'There is no ill to hear, sweet child, except of evil done to her.
Lorna, you are of an ill_starred race.'

'Better that than a wicked race,' she answered with her usual quickness,
leaping at conclusion; 'tell me I am not a Doone, and I will__but I
cannot love you more.'

'You are not a Doone, my Lorna, for that, at least, I can answer; though
I know not what your name is.'

'And my father__your father__what I mean is__'

'Your father and mine never met one another. Your father was killed by
an accident in the Pyrenean mountains, and your mother by the Doones; or
at least they caused her death, and carried you away from her.'

All this, coming as in one breath upon the sensitive maiden, was more
than she could bear all at once; as any but a fool like me must of
course have known. She lay back on the garden bench, with her black hair
shed on the oaken bark, while her colour went and came and only by that,
and her quivering breath, could any one say that she lived and thought.
And yet she pressed my hand with hers, that I might tell her all of it.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 56

JOHN BECOMES TOO POPULAR

No flower that I have ever seen, either in shifting of light and shade,
or in the pearly morning, may vie with a fair young woman's face when
tender thought and quick emotion vary, enrich, and beautify it. Thus my
Lorna hearkened softly, almost without word or gesture, yet with sighs
and glances telling, and the pressure of my hand, how each word was
moving her.

When at last my tale was done, she turned away, and wept bitterly for
the sad fate of her parents. But to my surprise she spoke not even a
word of wrath or rancour. She seemed to take it all as fate.

'Lorna, darling,' I said at length, for men are more impatient in trials
of time than women are, 'do you not even wish to know what your proper
name is?'

'How can it matter to me, John?' she answered, with a depth of grief
which made me seem a trifler. 'It can never matter now, when there are
none to share it.'

'Poor little soul!' was all I said in a tone of purest pity; and to my
surprise she turned upon me, caught me in her arms, and loved me as she
had never done before.

'Dearest, I have you,' she cried; 'you, and only you, love. Having you I
want no other. All my life is one with yours. Oh, John, how can I treat
you so?'

Blushing through the wet of weeping, and the gloom of pondering, yet she
would not hide her eyes, but folded me, and dwelled on me.

'I cannot believe,' in the pride of my joy, I whispered into one little
ear, 'that you could ever so love me, beauty, as to give up the world
for me.'

'Would you give up your farm for me, John?' cried Lorna, leaping back
and looking, with her wondrous power of light at me; 'would you give up
your mother, your sisters, your home, and all that you have in the world
and every hope of your life, John?'

'Of course I would. Without two thoughts. You know it; you know it,
Lorna.'

'It is true that I do, 'she answered in a tone of deepest sadness; 'and
it is this power of your love which has made me love you so. No good can
come of it, no good. God's face is set against selfishness.'

As she spoke in that low tone I gazed at the clear lines of her face
(where every curve was perfect) not with love and wonder only, but with
a strange new sense of awe.

'Darling,' I said, 'come nearer to me. Give me surety against that. For
God's sake never frighten me with the thought that He would part us.'

'Does it then so frighten you?' she whispered, coming close to me; 'I
know it, dear; I have known it long; but it never frightens me. It makes
me sad, and very lonely, till I can remember.'

'Till you can remember what?' I asked, with a long, deep shudder; for we
are so superstitious.

'Until I do remember, love, that you will soon come back to me, and be
my own for ever. This is what I always think of, this is what I hope
for.'

Although her eyes were so glorious, and beaming with eternity, this
distant sort of beatitude was not much to my liking. I wanted to have
my love on earth; and my dear wife in my own home; and children in good
time, if God should please to send us any. And then I would be to them,
exactly what my father was to me. And beside all this, I doubted much
about being fit for heaven; where no ploughs are, and no cattle, unless
sacrificed bulls went thither.

Therefore I said, 'Now kiss me, Lorna; and don't talk any nonsense.' And
the darling came and did it; being kindly obedient, as the other world
often makes us.

'You sweet love,' I said at this, being slave to her soft obedience; 'do
you suppose I should be content to leave you until Elysium?'

'How on earth can I tell, dear John, what you will be content with?'

'You, and only you,' said I; 'the whole of it lies in a syllable. Now
you know my entire want; and want must be my comfort.'

'But surely if I have money, sir, and birth, and rank, and all sorts of
grandeur, you would never dare to think of me.'

She drew herself up with an air of pride, as she gravely pronounced
these words, and gave me a scornful glance, or tried; and turned away
as if to enter some grand coach or palace; while I was so amazed and
grieved in my raw simplicity especially after the way in which she had
first received my news, so loving and warm_hearted, that I never said a
word, but stared and thought, 'How does she mean it?'

She saw the pain upon my forehead, and the wonder in my eyes, and
leaving coach and palace too, back she flew to me in a moment, as simple
as simplest milkmaid.

'Oh, you fearful stupid, John, you inexpressibly stupid, John,' she
cried with both arms round my neck, and her lips upon my forehead; 'you
have called yourself thick_headed, John, and I never would believe it.
But now I do with all my heart. Will you never know what I am, love?'

'No, Lorna, that I never shall. I can understand my mother well, and one
at least of my sisters, and both the Snowe girls very easily, but you I
never understand; only love you all the more for it.'

'Then never try to understand me, if the result is that, dear John. And
yet I am the very simplest of all foolish simple creatures. Nay, I am
wrong; therein I yield the palm to you, my dear. To think that I can
act so! No wonder they want me in London, as an ornament for the stage,
John.'

Now in after days, when I heard of Lorna as the richest, and noblest,
and loveliest lady to be found in London, I often remembered that little
scene, and recalled every word and gesture, wondering what lay under it.
Even now, while it was quite impossible once to doubt those clear deep
eyes, and the bright lips trembling so; nevertheless I felt how much
the world would have to do with it; and that the best and truest people
cannot shake themselves quite free. However, for the moment, I was very
proud and showed it.

And herein differs fact from fancy, things as they befall us from things
as we would have them, human ends from human hopes; that the first are
moved by a thousand and the last on two wheels only, which (being named)
are desire and fear. Hope of course is nothing more than desire with a
telescope, magnifying distant matters, overlooking near ones; opening
one eye on the objects, closing the other to all objections. And if hope
be the future tense of desire, the future of fear is religion__at least
with too many of us.

Whether I am right or wrong in these small moralities, one thing is sure
enough, to wit, that hope is the fastest traveller, at any rate, in the
time of youth. And so I hoped that Lorna might be proved of blameless
family, and honourable rank and fortune; and yet none the less for that,
love me and belong to me. So I led her into the house, and she fell into
my mother's arms; and I left them to have a good cry of it, with Annie
ready to help them.

If Master Stickles should not mend enough to gain his speech a little,
and declare to us all he knew, I was to set out for Watchett, riding
upon horseback, and there to hire a cart with wheels, such as we had not
begun, as yet, to use on Exmoor. For all our work went on broad wood,
with runners and with earthboards; and many of us still looked upon
wheels (though mentioned in the Bible) as the invention of the evil one,
and Pharoah's especial property.

Now, instead of getting better, Colonel Stickles grew worse and worse,
in spite of all our tendance of him, with simples and with nourishment,
and no poisonous medicine, such as doctors would have given him. And the
fault of this lay not with us, but purely with himself and his unquiet
constitution. For he roused himself up to a perfect fever, when through
Lizzie's giddiness he learned the very thing which mother and Annie were
hiding from him, with the utmost care; namely, that Sergeant Bloxham had
taken upon himself to send direct to London by the Chancery officers,
a full report of what had happened, and of the illness of his chief,
together with an urgent prayer for a full battalion of King's troops,
and a plenary commander.

This Sergeant Bloxham, being senior of the surviving soldiers, and a
very worthy man in his way, but a trifle over_zealous, had succeeded to
the captaincy upon his master's disablement. Then, with desire to serve
his country and show his education, he sat up most part of three nights,
and wrote this very wonderful report by the aid of our stable lanthorn.
It was a very fine piece of work, as three men to whom he read it (but
only one at a time) pronounced, being under seal of secrecy. And all
might have gone well with it, if the author could only have held his
tongue, when near the ears of women. But this was beyond his sense as it
seems, although so good a writer. For having heard that our Lizzie was
a famous judge of literature (as indeed she told almost every one), he
could not contain himself, but must have her opinion upon his work.

Lizzie sat on a log of wood, and listened with all her ears up, having
made proviso that no one else should be there to interrupt her. And she
put in a syllable here and there, and many a time she took out one (for
the Sergeant overloaded his gun, more often than undercharged it; like
a liberal man of letters), and then she declared the result so good,
so chaste, and the style to be so elegant, and yet so fervent, that the
Sergeant broke his pipe in three, and fell in love with her on the spot.
Now this has led me out of my way; as things are always doing, partly
through their own perverseness, partly through my kind desire to give
fair turn to all of them, and to all the people who do them. If any one
expects of me a strict and well_drilled story, standing 'at attention'
all the time, with hands at the side like two wens on my trunk, and eyes
going neither right nor left; I trow that man has been disappointed
many a page ago, and has left me to my evil ways; and if not, I love his
charity. Therefore let me seek his grace, and get back, and just begin
again.

That great despatch was sent to London by the Chancery officers, whom
we fitted up with clothes, and for three days fattened them; which in
strict justice they needed much, as well as in point of equity. They
were kind enough to be pleased with us, and accepted my new shirts
generously; and urgent as their business was, another week (as they both
declared) could do no harm to nobody, and might set them upon their legs
again. And knowing, although they were London men, that fish do live
in water, these two fellows went fishing all day, but never landed
anything. However, their holiday was cut short; for the Sergeant, having
finished now his narrative of proceedings, was not the man to let it
hang fire, and be quenched perhaps by Stickles.

Therefore, having done their business, and served both citations,
these two good men had a pannier of victuals put up by dear Annie, and
borrowing two of our horses, rode to Dunster, where they left them, and
hired on towards London. We had not time to like them much, and so we
did not miss them, especially in our great anxiety about poor Master
Stickles.

Jeremy lay between life and death, for at least a fortnight. If the link
of chain had flown upwards (for half a link of chain it was which took
him in the mouth so), even one inch upwards, the poor man could have
needed no one except Parson Bowden; for the bottom of his skull, which
holds the brain as in the egg_cup, must have clean gone from him. But
striking him horizontally, and a little upon the skew, the metal
came out at the back of his neck, and (the powder not being strong, I
suppose) it lodged in his leather collar.

Now the rust of this iron hung in the wound, or at least we thought so;
though since I have talked with a man of medicine, I am not so sure of
it. And our chief aim was to purge this rust; when rather we should have
stopped the hole, and let the oxide do its worst, with a plug of new
flesh on both sides of it.

At last I prevailed upon him by argument, that he must get better, to
save himself from being ignobly and unjustly superseded; and hereupon
I reviled Sergeant Bloxham more fiercely than Jeremy's self could have
done, and indeed to such a pitch that Jeremy almost forgave him, and
became much milder. And after that his fever and the inflammation of his
wound, diminished very rapidly.

However, not knowing what might happen, or even how soon poor Lorna
might be taken from our power, and, falling into lawyers' hands, have
cause to wish herself most heartily back among the robbers, I set forth
one day for Watchett, taking advantage of the visit of some troopers
from an outpost, who would make our house quite safe. I rode alone,
being fully primed, and having no misgivings. For it was said that even
the Doones had begun to fear me, since I cast their culverin through the
door, as above related; and they could not but believe, from my being
still untouched (although so large an object) in the thickest of their
fire, both of gun and cannon, that I must bear a charmed life, proof
against ball and bullet. However, I knew that Carver Doone was not
a likely man to hold any superstitious opinions; and of him I had an
instinctive dread, although quite ready to face him.

Riding along, I meditated upon Lorna's history; how many things were
now beginning to unfold themselves, which had been obscure and dark!
For instance, Sir Ensor Doone's consent, or to say the least his
indifference, to her marriage with a yeoman; which in a man so proud
(though dying) had greatly puzzled both of us. But now, if she not only
proved to be no grandchild of the Doone, but even descended from his
enemy, it was natural enough that he should feel no great repugnance to
her humiliation. And that Lorna's father had been a foe to the house
of Doone I gathered from her mother's cry when she beheld their leader.
Moreover that fact would supply their motive in carrying off the
unfortunate little creature, and rearing her among them, and as one of
their own family; yet hiding her true birth from her. She was a 'great
card,' as we say, when playing All_fours at Christmas_time; and if one
of them could marry her, before she learned of right and wrong, vast
property, enough to buy pardons for a thousand Doones, would be at their
mercy. And since I was come to know Lorna better, and she to know me
thoroughly__many things had been outspoken, which her early bashfulness
had kept covered from me. Attempts I mean to pledge her love to this
one, or that other; some of which perhaps might have been successful, if
there had not been too many.

And then, as her beauty grew richer and brighter, Carver Doone was
smitten strongly, and would hear of no one else as a suitor for her; and
by the terror of his claim drove off all the others. Here too may the
explanation of a thing which seemed to be against the laws of human
nature, and upon which I longed, but dared not to cross_question Lorna.
How could such a lovely girl, although so young, and brave, and distant,
have escaped the vile affections of a lawless company?

But now it was as clear as need be. For any proven violence would have
utterly vitiated all claim upon her grand estate; at least as those
claims must be urged before a court of equity. And therefore all the
elders (with views upon her real estate) kept strict watch on the
youngers, who confined their views to her personality.

Now I do not mean to say that all this, or the hundred other things
which came, crowding consideration, were half as plain to me at the
time, as I have set them down above. Far be it from me to deceive you
so. No doubt my thoughts were then dark and hazy, like an oil_lamp full
of fungus; and I have trimmed them, as when they burned, with scissors
sharpened long afterwards. All I mean to say is this, that jogging along
to a certain tune of the horse's feet, which we call 'three_halfpence
and twopence,' I saw my way a little into some things which had puzzled
me.

When I knocked at the little door, whose sill was gritty and grimed with
sand, no one came for a very long time to answer me, or to let me in.
Not wishing to be unmannerly, I waited a long time, and watched the sea,
from which the wind was blowing; and whose many lips of waves__though
the tide was half_way out__spoke to and refreshed me. After a while I
knocked again, for my horse was becoming hungry; and a good while after
that again, a voice came through the key_hole,__

'Who is that wishes to enter?'

'The boy who was at the pump,' said I, 'when the carriage broke down
at Dulverton. The boy that lives at oh__ah; and some day you would come
seek for him.'

'Oh, yes, I remember certainly. My leetle boy, with the fair white skin.
I have desired to see him, oh many, yes, many times.'

She was opening the door, while saying this, and then she started back
in affright that the little boy should have grown so.

'You cannot be that leetle boy. It is quite impossible. Why do you
impose on me?'

'Not only am I that little boy, who made the water to flow for you, till
the nebule came upon the glass; but also I am come to tell you all about
your little girl.'

'Come in, you very great leetle boy,' she answered, with her dark eyes
brightened. And I went in, and looked at her. She was altered by time,
as much as I was. The slight and graceful shape was gone; not that I
remembered anything of her figure, if you please; for boys of twelve are
not yet prone to note the shapes of women; but that her lithe straight
gait had struck me as being so unlike our people. Now her time for
walking so was past, and transmitted to her children. Yet her face was
comely still, and full of strong intelligence. I gazed at her, and she
at me; and we were sure of one another.

'Now what will ye please to eat?' she asked, with a lively glance at
the size of my mouth: 'that is always the first thing you people ask, in
these barbarous places.'

'I will tell you by_and_by,' I answered, misliking this satire upon us;
'but I might begin with a quart of ale, to enable me to speak, madam.'

'Very well. One quevart of be_or;' she called out to a little maid,
who was her eldest child, no doubt. 'It is to be expected, sir. Be_or,
be_or, be_or, all day long, with you Englishmen!'

'Nay,' I replied, 'not all day long, if madam will excuse me. Only a
pint at breakfast_time, and a pint and a half at eleven o'clock, and a
quart or so at dinner. And then no more till the afternoon; and half a
gallon at supper_time. No one can object to that.'

'Well, I suppose it is right,' she said, with an air of resignation;
'God knows. But I do not understand it. It is "good for business," as
you say, to preclude everything.'

'And it is good for us, madam,' I answered with indignation, for beer is
my favourite beverage; 'and I am a credit to beer, madam; and so are all
who trust to it.'

'At any rate, you are, young man. If beer has made you grow so large, I
will put my children upon it; it is too late for me to begin. The smell
to me is hateful.'

Now I only set down that to show how perverse those foreign people
are. They will drink their wretched heartless stuff, such as they call
claret, or wine of Medoc, or Bordeaux, or what not, with no more meaning
than sour rennet, stirred with the pulp from the cider press, and
strained through the cap of our Betty. This is very well for them; and
as good as they deserve, no doubt, and meant perhaps by the will of God,
for those unhappy natives. But to bring it over to England and set it
against our home_brewed ale (not to speak of wines from Portugal) and
sell it at ten times the price, as a cure for British bile, and a great
enlightenment; this I say is the vilest feature of the age we live in.

Madam Benita Odam__for the name of the man who turned the wheel proved
to be John Odam__showed me into a little room containing two chairs and
a fir_wood table, and sat down on a three_legged seat and studied me
very steadfastly. This she had a right to do; and I, having all my
clothes on now, was not disconcerted. It would not become me to repeat
her judgment upon my appearance, which she delivered as calmly as if I
were a pig at market, and as proudly as if her own pig. And she asked me
whether I had ever got rid of the black marks on my breast.

Not wanting to talk about myself (though very fond of doing so, when
time and season favour) I led her back to that fearful night of the day
when first I had seen her. She was not desirous to speak of it,
because of her own little children; however, I drew her gradually to
recollection of Lorna, and then of the little boy who died, and the
poor mother buried with him. And her strong hot nature kindled, as she
dwelled upon these things; and my wrath waxed within me; and we forgot
reserve and prudence under the sense of so vile a wrong. She told me
(as nearly as might be) the very same story which she had told to Master
Jeremy Stickles; only she dwelled upon it more, because of my knowing
the outset. And being a woman, with an inkling of my situation, she
enlarged upon the little maid, more than to dry Jeremy.

'Would you know her again?' I asked, being stirred by these accounts of
Lorna, when she was five years old: 'would you know her as a full_grown
maiden?'

'I think I should,' she answered; 'it is not possible to say until one
sees the person; but from the eyes of the little girl, I think that I
must know her. Oh, the poor young creature! Is it to be believed that
the cannibals devoured her! What a people you are in this country! Meat,
meat, meat!'

As she raised her hands and eyes in horror at our carnivorous
propensities, to which she clearly attributed the disappearance of
Lorna, I could scarce help laughing, even after that sad story. For
though it is said at the present day, and will doubtless be said
hereafter, that the Doones had devoured a baby once, as they came up
Porlock hill, after fighting hard in the market_place, I knew that the
tale was utterly false; for cruel and brutal as they were, their taste
was very correct and choice, and indeed one might say fastidious.
Nevertheless I could not stop to argue that matter with her.

'The little maid has not been devoured,' I said to Mistress Odam: 'and
now she is a tall young lady, and as beautiful as can be. If I sleep in
your good hostel to_night after going to Watchett town, will you come
with me to Oare to_morrow, and see your little maiden?'

'I would like__and yet I fear. This country is so barbarous. And I am
good to eat__my God, there is much picking on my bones!'

She surveyed herself with a glance so mingled of pity and admiration,
and the truth of her words was so apparent (only that it would have
taken a week to get at the bones, before picking) that I nearly lost
good manners; for she really seemed to suspect even me of cannibal
inclinations. However, at last I made her promise to come with me on the
morrow, presuming that Master Odam could by any means be persuaded to
keep her company in the cart, as propriety demanded. Having little doubt
that Master Odam was entirely at his wife's command, I looked upon that
matter as settled, and set off for Watchett, to see the grave of Lorna's
poor mother, and to hire a cart for the morrow.

And here (as so often happens with men) I succeeded without any trouble
or hindrance, where I had looked for both of them, namely, in finding a
suitable cart; whereas the other matter, in which I could have expected
no difficulty, came very near to defeat me. For when I heard that
Lorna's father was the Earl of Dugal__as Benita impressed upon me with a
strong enforcement, as much as to say, 'Who are you, young man, to come
even asking about her?'__then I never thought but that everybody in
Watchett town must know all about the tombstone of the Countess of
Dugal.

This, however, proved otherwise. For Lord Dugal had never lived at
Watchett Grange, as their place was called; neither had his name become
familiar as its owner. Because the Grange had only devolved to him by
will, at the end of a long entail, when the last of the Fitz_Pains died
out; and though he liked the idea of it, he had gone abroad, without
taking seisin. And upon news of his death, John Jones, a rich gentleman
from Llandaff, had taken possession, as next of right, and hushed up all
the story. And though, even at the worst of times, a lady of high rank
and wealth could not be robbed, and as bad as murdered, and then buried
in a little place, without moving some excitement, yet it had been given
out, on purpose and with diligence, that this was only a foreign lady
travelling for her health and pleasure, along the seacoast of England.
And as the poor thing never spoke, and several of her servants and her
baggage looked so foreign, and she herself died in a collar of lace
unlike any made in England, all Watchett, without hesitation, pronounced
her to be a foreigner. And the English serving man and maid, who might
have cleared up everything, either were bribed by Master Jones, or else
decamped of their own accord with the relics of the baggage. So the poor
Countess of Dugal, almost in sight of her own grand house, was buried in
an unknown grave, with her pair of infants, without a plate, without a
tombstone (worse than all) without a tear, except from the hired Italian
woman.

Surely my poor Lorna came of an ill_starred family.

Now in spite of all this, if I had only taken Benita with me, or even
told her what I wished, and craved her directions, there could have been
no trouble. But I do assure you that among the stupid people at Watchett
(compared with whom our folk of Oare, exceeding dense though being, are
as Hamlet against Dogberry) what with one of them and another, and the
firm conviction of all the town that I could be come only to wrestle, I
do assure you (as I said before) that my wits almost went out of me.
And what vexed me yet more about it was, that I saw my own mistake, in
coming myself to seek out the matter, instead of sending some unknown
person. For my face and form were known at that time (and still are so)
to nine people out of every ten living in forty miles of me. Not through
any excellence, or anything of good desert, in either the one or
the other, but simply because folks will be fools on the rivalry of
wrestling. The art is a fine one in itself, and demands a little wit of
brain, as well as strength of body; it binds the man who studies it to
temperance, and chastity, to self_respect, and most of all to an even
and sweet temper; for I have thrown stronger men than myself (when I was
a mere sapling, and before my strength grew hard on me) through their
loss of temper. But though the art is an honest one, surely they who
excel therein have a right (like all the rest of man_kind) to their own
private life.

Be that either way__and I will not speak too strongly, for fear of
indulging my own annoyance__anyhow, all Watchett town cared ten times as
much to see John Ridd, as to show him what he wanted. I was led to every
public_house, instead of to the churchyard; and twenty tables were ready
for me, in lieu of a single gravestone. 'Zummerzett thou bee'st, Jan
Ridd, and Zummerzett thou shalt be. Thee carl theezell a Davonsheer man!
Whoy, thee lives in Zummerzett; and in Zummerzett thee wast barn, lad.'
And so it went on, till I was weary; though very much obliged to them.

Dull and solid as I am, and with a wild duck waiting for me at good
Mistress Odam's, I saw that there was nothing for it but to yield to
these good people, and prove me a man of Somerset, by eating a dinner
at their expense. As for the churchyard, none would hear of it; and I
grieved for broaching the matter.

But how was I to meet Lorna again, without having done the thing of all
things which I had promised to see to? It would never do to tell her
that so great was my popularity, and so strong the desire to feed me,
that I could not attend to her mother. Least of all could I say that
every one in Watchett knew John Ridd; while none had heard of the
Countess of Dugal. And yet that was about the truth, as I hinted very
delicately to Mistress Odam that evening. But she (being vexed about her
wild duck, and not having English ideas on the matter of sport, and so
on) made a poor unwitting face at me. Nevertheless Master Odam restored
me to my self_respect; for he stared at me till I went to bed; and he
broke his hose with excitement. For being in the leg_line myself, I
wanted to know what the muscles were of a man who turned a wheel all
day. I had never seen a treadmill (though they have one now at Exeter),
and it touched me much to learn whether it were good exercise. And
herein, from what I saw of Odam, I incline to think that it does great
harm; as moving the muscles too much in a line, and without variety.



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 57

LORNA KNOWS HER NURSE

Having obtained from Benita Odam a very close and full description of
the place where her poor mistress lay, and the marks whereby to know it,
I hastened to Watchett the following morning, before the sun was up,
or any people were about. And so, without interruption, I was in the
churchyard at sunrise.

In the farthest and darkest nook, overgrown with grass, and overhung by
a weeping_tree a little bank of earth betokened the rounding off of a
hapless life. There was nothing to tell of rank, or wealth, of love, or
even pity; nameless as a peasant lay the last (as supposed) of a mighty
race. Only some unskilful hand, probably Master Odam's under his wife's
teaching, had carved a rude L., and a ruder D., upon a large pebble from
the beach, and set it up as a headstone.

I gathered a little grass for Lorna and a sprig of the weeping_tree, and
then returned to the Forest Cat, as Benita's lonely inn was called.
For the way is long from Watchett to Oare; and though you may ride
it rapidly, as the Doones had done on that fatal night, to travel
on wheels, with one horse only, is a matter of time and of prudence.
Therefore, we set out pretty early, three of us and a baby, who could
not well be left behind. The wife of the man who owned the cart had
undertaken to mind the business, and the other babies, upon condition of
having the keys of all the taps left with her.

As the manner of journeying over the moor has been described oft enough
already, I will say no more, except that we all arrived before dusk
of the summer's day, safe at Plover's Barrows. Mistress Benita was
delighted with the change from her dull hard life; and she made many
excellent observations, such as seem natural to a foreigner looking at
our country.

As luck would have it, the first who came to meet us at the gate was
Lorna, with nothing whatever upon her head (the weather being summerly)
but her beautiful hair shed round her; and wearing a sweet white frock
tucked in, and showing her figure perfectly. In her joy she ran straight
up to the cart; and then stopped and gazed at Benita. At one glance her
old nurse knew her: 'Oh, the eyes, the eyes!' she cried, and was over
the rail of the cart in a moment, in spite of all her substance. Lorna,
on the other hand, looked at her with some doubt and wonder, as though
having right to know much about her, and yet unable to do so. But when
the foreign woman said something in Roman language, and flung new hay
from the cart upon her, as if in a romp of childhood, the young maid
cried, 'Oh, Nita, Nita!' and fell upon her breast, and wept; and after
that looked round at us.

This being so, there could be no doubt as to the power of proving Lady
Lorna's birth, and rights, both by evidence and token. For though we had
not the necklace now__thanks to Annie's wisdom__we had the ring of heavy
gold, a very ancient relic, with which my maid (in her simple way) had
pledged herself to me. And Benita knew this ring as well as she knew her
own fingers, having heard a long history about it; and the effigy on it
of the wild cat was the bearing of the house of Lorne.

For though Lorna's father was a nobleman of high and goodly lineage, her
mother was of yet more ancient and renowned descent, being the last
in line direct from the great and kingly chiefs of Lorne. A wild and
headstrong race they were, and must have everything their own way. Hot
blood was ever among them, even of one household; and their sovereignty
(which more than once had defied the King of Scotland) waned and fell
among themselves, by continual quarrelling. And it was of a piece with
this, that the Doones (who were an offset, by the mother's side, holding
in co_partnership some large property, which had come by the spindle, as
we say) should fall out with the Earl of Lorne, the last but one of that
title.

The daughter of this nobleman had married Sir Ensor Doone; but this,
instead of healing matters, led to fiercer conflict. I never could quite
understand all the ins and outs of it; which none but a lawyer may go
through, and keep his head at the end of it. The motives of mankind are
plainer than the motions they produce. Especially when charity (such
as found among us) sits to judge the former, and is never weary of it;
while reason does not care to trace the latter complications, except for
fee or title.

Therefore it is enough to say, that knowing Lorna to be direct in
heirship to vast property, and bearing especial spite against the house
of which she was the last, the Doones had brought her up with full
intention of lawful marriage; and had carefully secluded her from the
wildest of their young gallants. Of course, if they had been next in
succession, the child would have gone down the waterfall, to save any
further trouble; but there was an intercepting branch of some honest
family; and they being outlaws, would have a poor chance (though the law
loves outlaws) against them. Only Lorna was of the stock; and Lorna they
must marry. And what a triumph against the old earl, for a cursed Doone
to succeed him!

As for their outlawry, great robberies, and grand murders, the veriest
child, nowadays, must know that money heals the whole of that. Even if
they had murdered people of a good position, it would only cost about
twice as much to prove their motives loyal. But they had never slain any
man above the rank of yeoman; and folk even said that my father was the
highest of their victims; for the death of Lorna's mother and brother
was never set to their account.

Pure pleasure it is to any man, to reflect upon all these things. How
truly we discern clear justice, and how well we deal it. If any poor
man steals a sheep, having ten children starving, and regarding it as
mountain game (as a rich man does a hare), to the gallows with him. If
a man of rank beats down a door, smites the owner upon the head, and
honours the wife with attention, it is a thing to be grateful for, and
to slouch smitten head the lower.

While we were full of all these things, and wondering what would happen
next, or what we ought ourselves to do, another very important matter
called for our attention. This was no less than Annie's marriage to the
Squire Faggus. We had tried to put it off again; for in spite of all
advantages, neither my mother nor myself had any real heart for it. Not
that we dwelled upon Tom's short_comings or rather perhaps his going too
far, at the time when he worked the road so. All that was covered by
the King's pardon, and universal respect of the neighbourhood. But our
scruple was this__and the more we talked the more it grew upon us__that
we both had great misgivings as to his future steadiness.

For it would be a thousand pities, we said, for a fine, well_grown, and
pretty maiden (such as our Annie was), useful too, in so many ways, and
lively, and warm_hearted, and mistress of 500 pounds, to throw herself
away on a man with a kind of a turn for drinking. If that last were even
hinted, Annie would be most indignant, and ask, with cheeks as red as
roses, who had ever seen Master Faggus any the worse for liquor indeed?
Her own opinion was, in truth, that he took a great deal too little,
after all his hard work, and hard riding, and coming over the hills to
be insulted! And if ever it lay in her power, and with no one to grudge
him his trumpery glass, she would see that poor Tom had the nourishment
which his cough and his lungs required.

His lungs being quite as sound as mine, this matter was out of all
argument; so mother and I looked at one another, as much as to say, 'let
her go upstairs, she will cry and come down more reasonable.' And while
she was gone, we used to say the same thing over and over again; but
without perceiving a cure for it. And we almost always finished up with
the following reflection, which sometimes came from mother's lips, and
sometimes from my own: 'Well, well, there is no telling. None can say
how a man may alter; when he takes to matrimony. But if we could only
make Annie promise to be a little firm with him!'

I fear that all this talk on our part only hurried matters forward,
Annie being more determined every time we pitied her. And at last Tom
Faggus came, and spoke as if he were on the King's road, with a pistol
at my head, and one at mother's. 'No more fast and loose,' he cried.
'either one thing or the other. I love the maid, and she loves me; and
we will have one another, either with your leave, or without it. How
many more times am I to dance over these vile hills, and leave my
business, and get nothing more than a sigh or a kiss, and "Tom, I must
wait for mother"? You are famous for being straightforward, you Ridds.
Just treat me as I would treat you now.'

I looked at my mother; for a glance from her would have sent Tom out of
the window; but she checked me with her hand, and said, 'You have
some ground of complaint, sir; I will not deny it. Now I will be as
straight_forward with you, as even a Ridd is supposed to be. My son and
myself have all along disliked your marriage with Annie. Not for what
you have been so much, as for what we fear you will be. Have patience,
one moment, if you please. We do not fear your taking to the highway
life again; for that you are too clever, no doubt, now that you have
property. But we fear that you will take to drinking, and to squandering
money. There are many examples of this around us; and we know what the
fate of the wife is. It has been hard to tell you this, under our own
roof, and with our own__' Here mother hesitated.

'Spirits, and cider, and beer,' I broke in; 'out with it, like a Ridd,
mother; as he will have all of it.'

'Spirits, and cider, and beer,' said mother very firmly after me; and
then she gave way and said, 'You know, Tom, you are welcome to every
drop and more of it.'

Now Tom must have had a far sweeter temper than ever I could claim; for
I should have thrust my glass away, and never have taken another drop
in the house where such a check had met me. But instead of that, Master
Faggus replied, with a pleasant smile,__

'I know that I am welcome, good mother; and to prove it, I will have
some more.'

And thereupon be mixed himself another glass of hollands with lemon and
hot water, yet pouring it very delicately.

'Oh, I have been so miserable__take a little more, Tom,' said mother,
handing the bottle.

'Yes, take a little more,' I said; 'you have mixed it over weak, Tom.'

'If ever there was a sober man,' cried Tom, complying with our request;
'if ever there was in Christendom a man of perfect sobriety, that man is
now before you. Shall we say to_morrow week, mother? It will suit your
washing day.'

'How very thoughtful you are, Tom! Now John would never have thought of
that, in spite of all his steadiness.'

'Certainly not,' I answered proudly; 'when my time comes for Lorna, I
shall not study Betty Muxworthy.'

In this way the Squire got over us; and Farmer Nicholas Snowe was
sent for, to counsel with mother about the matter and to set his two
daughters sewing.

When the time for the wedding came, there was such a stir and commotion
as had never been known in the parish of Oare since my father's
marriage. For Annie's beauty and kindliness had made her the pride of
the neighbourhood; and the presents sent her, from all around, were
enough to stock a shop with. Master Stickles, who now could walk, and
who certainly owed his recovery, with the blessing of God, to Annie,
presented her with a mighty Bible, silver_clasped, and very handsome,
beating the parson's out and out, and for which he had sent to Taunton.
Even the common troopers, having tasted her cookery many times (to help
out their poor rations), clubbed together, and must have given at least
a week's pay apiece, to have turned out what they did for her. This was
no less than a silver pot, well_designed, but suited surely rather
to the bridegroom's taste than bride's. In a word, everybody gave her
things.

And now my Lorna came to me, with a spring of tears in appealing
eyes__for she was still somewhat childish, or rather, I should say, more
childish now than when she lived in misery__and she placed her little
hand in mine, and she was half afraid to speak, and dropped her eyes for
me to ask.

'What is it, little darling?' I asked, as I saw her breath come fast;
for the smallest emotion moved her form.

'You don't think, John, you don't think, dear, that you could lend me
any money?'

'All I have got,' I answered; 'how much do you want, dear heart?'

'I have been calculating; and I fear that I cannot do any good with less
than ten pounds, John.'

Here she looked up at me, with horror at the grandeur of the sum, and
not knowing what I could think of it. But I kept my eyes from her.
'Ten pounds!' I said in my deepest voice, on purpose to have it out
in comfort, when she should be frightened; 'what can you want with ten
pounds, child?'

'That is my concern, said Lorna, plucking up her spirit at this: 'when
a lady asks for a loan, no gentleman pries into the cause of her asking
it.'

'That may be as may be,' I answered in a judicial manner; 'ten pounds,
or twenty, you shall have. But I must know the purport.'

'Then that you never shall know, John. I am very sorry for asking you.
It is not of the smallest consequence. Oh, dear, no.' Herewith she was
running away.

'Oh, dear, yes,' I replied; 'it is of very great consequence; and I
understand the whole of it. You want to give that stupid Annie, who
has lost you a hundred thousand pounds, and who is going to be married
before us, dear__God only can tell why, being my younger sister__you
want to give her a wedding present. And you shall do it, darling;
because it is so good of you. Don't you know your title, love? How
humble you are with us humble folk. You are Lady Lorna something, so far
as I can make out yet: and you ought not even to speak to us. You will
go away and disdain us.'

'If you please, talk not like that, John. I will have nothing to do with
it, if it comes between you and me, John.'

'You cannot help yourself,' said I. And then she vowed that she could
and would. And rank and birth were banished from between our lips in no
time.

'What can I get her good enough? I am sure I do not know,' she asked:
'she has been so kind and good to me, and she is such a darling. How I
shall miss her, to be sure! By the bye, you seem to think, John, that I
shall be rich some day.'

'Of course you will. As rich as the French King who keeps ours. Would
the Lord Chancellor trouble himself about you, if you were poor?'

'Then if I am rich, perhaps you would lend me twenty pounds, dear John.
Ten pounds would be very mean for a wealthy person to give her.'

To this I agreed, upon condition that I should make the purchase myself,
whatever it might be. For nothing could be easier than to cheat Lorna
about the cost, until time should come for her paying me. And this was
better than to cheat her for the benefit of our family. For this end,
and for many others, I set off to Dulverton, bearing more commissions,
more messages, and more questions than a man of thrice my memory might
carry so far as the corner where the sawpit is. And to make things
worse, one girl or other would keep on running up to me, or even after
me (when started) with something or other she had just thought of, which
she could not possibly do without, and which I must be sure to remember,
as the most important of the whole.

To my dear mother, who had partly outlived the exceeding value of
trifles, the most important matter seemed to ensure Uncle Reuben's
countenance and presence at the marriage. And if I succeeded in this,
I might well forget all the maidens' trumpery. This she would have been
wiser to tell me when they were out of hearing; for I left her to fight
her own battle with them; and laughing at her predicament, promised to
do the best I could for all, so far as my wits would go.

Uncle Reuben was not at home, but Ruth, who received me very kindly,
although without any expressions of joy, was sure of his return in the
afternoon, and persuaded me to wait for him. And by the time that I had
finished all I could recollect of my orders, even with paper to help
me, the old gentleman rode into the yard, and was more surprised than
pleased to see me. But if he was surprised, I was more than that__I was
utterly astonished at the change in his appearance since the last time I
had seen him. From a hale, and rather heavy man, gray_haired, but plump,
and ruddy, he was altered to a shrunken, wizened, trembling, and almost
decrepit figure. Instead of curly and comely locks, grizzled indeed, but
plentiful, he had only a few lank white hairs scattered and flattened
upon his forehead. But the greatest change of all was in the expression
of his eyes, which had been so keen, and restless, and bright, and
a little sarcastic. Bright indeed they still were, but with a slow
unhealthy lustre; their keenness was turned to perpetual outlook, their
restlessness to a haggard want. As for the humour which once gleamed
there (which people who fear it call sarcasm) it had been succeeded by
stares of terror, and then mistrust, and shrinking. There was none of
the interest in mankind, which is needful even for satire.

'Now what can this be?' thought I to myself, 'has the old man lost all
his property, or taken too much to strong waters?'

'Come inside, John Ridd,' he said; 'I will have a talk with you. It is
cold out here; and it is too light. Come inside, John Ridd, boy.'

I followed him into a little dark room, quite different from Ruth
Huckaback's. It was closed from the shop by an old division of boarding,
hung with tanned canvas; and the smell was very close and faint. Here
there was a ledger desk, and a couple of chairs, and a long_legged
stool.

'Take the stool,' said Uncle Reuben, showing me in very quietly, 'it is
fitter for your height, John. Wait a moment; there is no hurry.'

Then he slipped out by another door, and closing it quickly after him,
told the foreman and waiting_men that the business of the day was done.
They had better all go home at once; and he would see to the fastenings.
Of course they were only too glad to go; but I wondered at his sending
them, with at least two hours of daylight left.

However, that was no business of mine, and I waited, and pondered
whether fair Ruth ever came into this dirty room, and if so, how she
kept her hands from it. For Annie would have had it upside down in about
two minutes, and scrubbed, and brushed, and dusted, until it looked
quite another place; and yet all this done without scolding and
crossness; which are the curse of clean women, and ten times worse than
the dustiest dust.

Uncle Ben came reeling in, not from any power of liquor, but because he
was stiff from horseback, and weak from work and worry.

'Let me be, John, let me be,' he said, as I went to help him; 'this is
an unkind dreary place; but many a hundred of good gold Carolus has been
turned in this place, John.'

'Not a doubt about it, sir,' I answered in my loud and cheerful manner;
'and many another hundred, sir; and may you long enjoy them!'

'My boy, do you wish me to die?' he asked, coming up close to my stool,
and regarding me with a shrewd though blear_eyed gaze; 'many do. Do you,
John?'

'Come,' said I, 'don't ask such nonsense. You know better than that,
Uncle Ben. Or else, I am sorry for you. I want you to live as long as
possible, for the sake of__' Here I stopped.

'For the sake of what, John? I knew it is not for my own sake. For the
sake of what, my boy?'

'For the sake of Ruth,' I answered; 'if you must have all the truth. Who
is to mind her when you are gone?'

'But if you knew that I had gold, or a manner of getting gold, far more
than ever the sailors got out of the Spanish galleons, far more than
ever was heard of; and the secret was to be yours, John; yours after me
and no other soul's__then you would wish me dead, John.' Here he eyed me
as if a speck of dust in my eyes should not escape him.

'You are wrong, Uncle Ben; altogether wrong. For all the gold ever heard
or dreamed of, not a wish would cross my heart to rob you of one day of
life.'

At last he moved his eyes from mine; but without any word, or sign, to
show whether he believed, or disbelieved. Then he went to a chair, and
sat with his chin upon the ledger_desk; as if the effort of probing me
had been too much for his weary brain. 'Dreamed of! All the gold ever
dreamed of! As if it were but a dream!' he muttered; and then he closed
his eyes to think.

'Good Uncle Reuben,' I said to him, 'you have been a long way to_day,
sir. Let me go and get you a glass of good wine. Cousin Ruth knows where
to find it.'

'How do you know how far I have been?' he asked, with a vicious look
at me. 'And Cousin Ruth! You are very pat with my granddaughter's name,
young man!'

'It would be hard upon me, sir, not to know my own cousin's name.'

'Very well. Let that go by. You have behaved very badly to Ruth. She
loves you; and you love her not.'

At this I was so wholly amazed__not at the thing itself, I mean, but at
his knowledge of it__that I could not say a single word; but looked, no
doubt, very foolish.

'You may well be ashamed, young man,' he cried, with some triumph over
me, 'you are the biggest of all fools, as well as a conceited coxcomb.
What can you want more than Ruth? She is a little damsel, truly; but
finer men than you, John Ridd, with all your boasted strength and
wrestling, have wedded smaller maidens. And as for quality, and
value__bots! one inch of Ruth is worth all your seven feet put
together.'

Now I am not seven feet high; nor ever was six feet eight inches, in
my very prime of life; and nothing vexes me so much as to make me out a
giant, and above human sympathy, and human scale of weakness. It cost
me hard to hold my tongue; which luckily is not in proportion to my
stature. And only for Ruth's sake I held it. But Uncle Ben (being old
and worn) was vexed by not having any answer, almost as much as a woman
is.

'You want me to go on,' he continued, with a look of spite at me, 'about
my poor Ruth's love for you, to feed your cursed vanity. Because a
set of asses call you the finest man in England; there is no maid (I
suppose) who is not in love with you. I believe you are as deep as you
are long, John Ridd. Shall I ever get to the bottom of your character?'

This was a little too much for me. Any insult I could take (with
goodwill) from a white_haired man, and one who was my relative; unless
it touched my love for Lorna, or my conscious modesty. Now both of
these were touched to the quick by the sentences of the old gentleman.
Therefore, without a word, I went; only making a bow to him.

But women who are (beyond all doubt) the mothers of all mischief, also
nurse that babe to sleep, when he is too noisy. And there was Ruth, as I
took my horse (with a trunk of frippery on him), poor little Ruth was
at the bridle, and rusting all the knops of our town_going harness with
tears.

'Good_bye dear,' I said, as she bent her head away from me; 'shall I put
you up on the saddle, dear?'

'Cousin Ridd, you may take it lightly,' said Ruth, turning full upon me,
'and very likely you are right, according to your nature'__this was
the only cutting thing the little soul ever said to me__'but oh, Cousin
Ridd, you have no idea of the pain you will leave behind you.'

'How can that be so, Ruth, when I am as good as ordered to be off the
premises?'

'In the first place, Cousin Ridd, grandfather will be angry with
himself, for having so ill_used you. And now he is so weak and poorly,
that he is always repenting. In the next place I shall scold him first,
until he admits his sorrow; and when he has admitted it, I shall scold
myself for scolding him. And then he will come round again, and think
that I was hard on him; and end perhaps by hating you__for he is like a
woman now, John.'

That last little touch of self_knowledge in Ruth, which she delivered
with a gleam of some secret pleasantry, made me stop and look closely
at her: but she pretended not to know it. 'There is something in this
child,' I thought, 'very different from other girls. What it is I cannot
tell; for one very seldom gets at it.'

At any rate the upshot was that the good horse went back to stable, and
had another feed of corn, while my wrath sank within me. There are two
things, according to my experience (which may not hold with another man)
fitted beyond any others to take hot tempers out of us. The first is
to see our favourite creatures feeding, and licking up their food, and
happily snuffling over it, yet sparing time to be grateful, and showing
taste and perception; the other is to go gardening boldly, in the spring
of the year, without any misgiving about it, and hoping the utmost of
everything. If there be a third anodyne, approaching these two in power,
it is to smoke good tobacco well, and watch the setting of the moon; and
if this should only be over the sea, the result is irresistible.

Master Huckaback showed no especial signs of joy at my return; but
received me with a little grunt, which appeared to me to mean, 'Ah, I
thought he would hardly be fool enough to go.' I told him how sorry I
was for having in some way offended him; and he answered that I did well
to grieve for one at least of my offences. To this I made no reply, as
behoves a man dealing with cross and fractious people; and presently he
became better_tempered, and sent little Ruth for a bottle of wine. She
gave me a beautiful smile of thanks for my forbearance as she passed;
and I knew by her manner that she would bring the best bottle in all the
cellar.

As I had but little time to spare (although the days were long and
light) we were forced to take our wine with promptitude and rapidity;
and whether this loosened my uncle's tongue, or whether he meant
beforehand to speak, is now almost uncertain. But true it is that he
brought his chair very near to mine, after three or four glasses, and
sent Ruth away upon some errand which seemed of small importance. At
this I was vexed, for the room always looked so different without her.

'Come, Jack,' he said, 'here's your health, young fellow, and a good and
obedient wife to you. Not that your wife will ever obey you though; you
are much too easy_tempered. Even a bitter and stormy woman might live
in peace with you, Jack. But never you give her the chance to try. Marry
some sweet little thing, if you can. If not, don't marry any. Ah, we
have the maid to suit you, my lad, in this old town of Dulverton.'

'Have you so, sir? But perhaps the maid might have no desire to suit
me.'

'That you may take my word she has. The colour of this wine will prove
it. The little sly hussy has been to the cobwebbed arch of the cellar,
where she has no right to go, for any one under a magistrate. However,
I am glad to see it, and we will not spare it, John. After my time,
somebody, whoever marries little Ruth, will find some rare wines there,
I trow, and perhaps not know the difference.'

Thinking of this the old man sighed, and expected me to sigh after him.
But a sigh is not (like a yawn) infectious; and we are all more prone
to be sent to sleep than to sorrow by one another. Not but what a sigh
sometimes may make us think of sighing.

'Well, sir,' cried I, in my sprightliest manner, which rouses up most
people, 'here's to your health and dear little Ruth's: and may you live
to knock off the cobwebs from every bottle in under the arch. Uncle
Reuben, your life and health, sir?'

With that I took my glass thoughtfully, for it was wondrous good; and
Uncle Ben was pleased to see me dwelling pleasantly on the subject with
parenthesis, and self_commune, and oral judgment unpronounced, though
smacking of fine decision. 'Curia vult advisari,' as the lawyers say;
which means, 'Let us have another glass, and then we can think about
it.'

'Come now, John,' said Uncle Ben, laying his wrinkled hand on my knee,
when he saw that none could heed us, 'I know that you have a sneaking
fondness for my grandchild Ruth. Don't interrupt me now; you have; and
to deny it will only provoke me.'

'I do like Ruth, sir,' I said boldly, for fear of misunderstanding; 'but
I do not love her.'

'Very well; that makes no difference. Liking may very soon be loving (as
some people call it) when the maid has money to help her.'

'But if there be, as there is in my case__'

'Once for all, John, not a word. I do not attempt to lead you into any
engagement with little Ruth; neither will I blame you (though I may be
disappointed) if no such engagement should ever be. But whether you will
have my grandchild, or whether you will not__and such a chance is
rarely offered to a fellow of your standing'__Uncle Ben despised all
farmers__'in any case I have at least resolved to let you know my
secret; and for two good reasons. The first is that it wears me out
to dwell upon it, all alone, and the second is that I can trust you to
fulfil a promise. Moreover, you are my next of kin, except among
the womankind; and you are just the man I want, to help me in my
enterprise.'

'And I will help you, sir,' I answered, fearing some conspiracy, 'in
anything that is true, and loyal, and according to the laws of the
realm.'

'Ha, ha!' cried the old man, laughing until his eyes ran over, and
spreading out his skinny hands upon his shining breeches, 'thou hast
gone the same fools' track as the rest; even as spy Stickles went, and
all his precious troopers. Landing of arms at Glenthorne, and Lynmouth,
wagons escorted across the moor, sounds of metal and booming noises!
Ah, but we managed it cleverly, to cheat even those so near to
us. Disaffection at Taunton, signs of insurrection at Dulverton,
revolutionary tanner at Dunster! We set it all abroad, right well. And
not even you to suspect our work; though we thought at one time that you
watched us. Now who, do you suppose, is at the bottom of all this Exmoor
insurgency, all this western rebellion__not that I say there is none,
mind__but who is at the bottom of it?'

'Either Mother Melldrum,' said I, being now a little angry, 'or else old
Nick himself.'

'Nay, old Uncle Reuben!' Saying this, Master Huckaback cast back his
coat, and stood up, and made the most of himself.

'Well!' cried I, being now quite come to the limits of my intellect,
'then, after all, Captain Stickles was right in calling you a rebel,
sir!'

'Of course he was; could so keen a man be wrong about an old fool like
me? But come, and see our rebellion, John. I will trust you now with
everything. I will take no oath from you; only your word to keep
silence; and most of all from your mother.'

'I will give you my word,' I said, although liking not such pledges;
which make a man think before he speaks in ordinary company, against
his usual practices. However, I was now so curious, that I thought of
nothing else; and scarcely could believe at all that Uncle Ben was quite
right in his head.

'Take another glass of wine, my son,' he cried with a cheerful
countenance, which made him look more than ten years younger; 'you shall
come into partnership with me: your strength will save us two horses,
and we always fear the horse work. Come and see our rebellion, my boy;
you are a made man from to_night.'

'But where am I to come and see it? Where am I to find it, sir?'

'Meet me,' he answered, yet closing his hands, and wrinkling with
doubt his forehead, 'come alone, of course; and meet me at the Wizard's
Slough, at ten to_morrow morning.'



Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 58

MASTER HUCKABACK'S SECRET

Knowing Master Huckaback to be a man of his word, as well as one who
would have others so, I was careful to be in good time the next morning,
by the side of the Wizard's Slough. I am free to admit that the name of
the place bore a feeling of uneasiness, and a love of distance, in some
measure to my heart. But I did my best not to think of this; only I
thought it a wise precaution, and due for the sake of my mother and
Lorna, to load my gun with a dozen slugs made from the lead of the old
church_porch, laid by, long since, against witchcraft.

I am well aware that some people now begin to doubt about witchcraft; or
at any rate feign to do so; being desirous to disbelieve whatever they
are afraid of. This spirit is growing too common among us, and will end
(unless we put a stop to it!) in the destruction of all religion. And
as regards witchcraft, a man is bound either to believe in it, or to
disbelieve the Bible. For even in the New Testament, discarding many
things of the Old, such as sacrifices, and Sabbath, and fasting, and
other miseries, witchcraft is clearly spoken of as a thing that
must continue; that the Evil One be not utterly robbed of his vested
interests. Hence let no one tell me that witchcraft is done away with;
for I will meet him with St. Paul, than whom no better man, and few less
superstitious, can be found in all the Bible.

Feeling these things more in those days than I feel them now, I fetched
a goodish compass round, by the way of the cloven rocks, rather than
cross Black Barrow Down, in a reckless and unholy manner. There were
several spots, upon that Down, cursed and smitten, and blasted, as if
thunderbolts had fallen there, and Satan sat to keep them warm. At any
rate it was good (as every one acknowledged) not to wander there too
much; even with a doctor of divinity on one arm and of medicine upon the
other.

Therefore, I, being all alone, and on foot (as seemed the wisest),
preferred a course of roundabout; and starting about eight o'clock,
without mentioning my business, arrived at the mouth of the deep
descent, such as John Fry described it. Now this (though I have not
spoken of it) was not my first time of being there. For, although I
could not bring myself to spy upon Uncle Reuben, as John Fry had done,
yet I thought it no ill manners, after he had left our house, to have a
look at the famous place, where the malefactor came to life, at least
in John's opinion. At that time, however, I saw nothing except the great
ugly black morass, with the grisly reeds around it; and I did not care
to go very near it, much less to pry on the further side.

Now, on the other hand, I was bent to get at the very bottom of this
mystery (if there were any), having less fear of witch or wizard, with
a man of Uncle Reuben's wealth to take my part, and see me through. So
I rattled the ramrod down my gun, just to know if the charge were right,
after so much walking; and finding it full six inches deep, as I like to
have it, went boldly down the steep gorge of rock, with a firm resolve
to shoot any witch unless it were good Mother Melldrum. Nevertheless to
my surprise, all was quiet, and fair to look at, in the decline of
the narrow way, with great stalked ferns coming forth like trees, yet
hanging like cobwebs over one. And along one side, a little spring was
getting rid of its waters. Any man might stop and think; or he might
go on and think; and in either case, there was none to say that he was
making a fool of himself.

When I came to the foot of this ravine, and over against the great black
slough, there was no sign of Master Huckaback, nor of any other living
man, except myself, in the silence. Therefore, I sat in a niche of rock,
gazing at the slough, and pondering the old tradition about it.

They say that, in the ancient times, a mighty necromancer lived in the
wilderness of Exmoor. Here, by spell and incantation, he built himself
a strong high palace, eight_sided like a spider's web, and standing on
a central steep; so that neither man nor beast could cross the moors
without his knowledge. If he wished to rob and slay a traveller, or to
have wild ox, or stag for food, he had nothing more to do than sit at
one of his eight windows, and point his unholy book at him. Any moving
creature, at which that book was pointed, must obey the call, and come
from whatever distance, if sighted once by the wizard.

This was a bad condition of things, and all the country groaned under
it; and Exmoor (although the most honest place that a man could wish
to live in) was beginning to get a bad reputation, and all through that
vile wizard. No man durst even go to steal a sheep, or a pony, or so
much as a deer for dinner, lest he should be brought to book by a far
bigger rogue than he was. And this went on for many years; though they
prayed to God to abate it. But at last, when the wizard was getting fat
and haughty upon his high stomach, a mighty deliverance came to Exmoor,
and a warning, and a memory. For one day the sorcerer gazed from his
window facing the southeast of the compass, and he yawned, having killed
so many men that now he was weary of it.

'Ifackins,' he cried, or some such oath, both profane and uncomely,
'I see a man on the verge of the sky_line, going along laboriously. A
pilgrim, I trow, or some such fool, with the nails of his boots inside
them. Too thin to be worth eating; but I will have him for the fun of
the thing; and most of those saints have got money.'

With these words he stretched forth his legs on a stool, and pointed
the book of heathenish spells back upwards at the pilgrim. Now this good
pilgrim was plodding along, soberly and religiously, with a pound of
flints in either boot, and not an ounce of meat inside him. He felt the
spell of the wicked book, but only as a horse might feel a 'gee_wug!'
addressed to him. It was in the power of this good man, either to go
on, or turn aside, and see out the wizard's meaning. And for a moment he
halted and stood, like one in two minds about a thing. Then the wizard
clapped one cover to, in a jocular and insulting manner; and the sound
of it came to the pilgrim's ear, about five miles in the distance, like
a great gun fired at him.

'By our Lady,' he cried, 'I must see to this; although my poor feet have
no skin below them. I will teach this heathen miscreant how to scoff at
Glastonbury.'

Thereupon he turned his course, and ploughed along through the moors
and bogs, towards the eight_sided palace. The wizard sat on his chair of
comfort, and with the rankest contempt observed the holy man ploughing
towards him. 'He has something good in his wallet, I trow,' said the
black thief to himself; 'these fellows get always the pick of the wine,
and the best of a woman's money.' Then he cried, 'Come in, come in, good
sir,' as he always did to every one.

'Bad sir, I will not come in,' said the pilgrim; 'neither shall you come
out again. Here are the bones of all you have slain; and here shall your
own bones be.'

'Hurry me not,' cried the sorcerer; 'that is a thing to think about. How
many miles hast thou travelled this day?'

But the pilgrim was too wide awake, for if he had spoken of any number,
bearing no cross upon it, the necromancer would have had him, like a
ball at bando_play. Therefore he answered, as truly as need be, 'By the
grace of our Lady, nine.'

Now nine is the crossest of all cross numbers, and full to the lip of
all crochets. So the wizard staggered back, and thought, and inquired
again with bravery, 'Where can you find a man and wife, one going
up_hill and one going down, and not a word spoken between them?'

'In a cucumber plant,' said the modest saint; blushing even to think of
it; and the wizard knew he was done for.

'You have tried me with ungodly questions,' continued the honest
pilgrim, with one hand still over his eyes, as he thought of the
feminine cucumber; 'and now I will ask you a pure one. To whom of
mankind have you ever done good, since God saw fit to make you?'

The wizard thought, but could quote no one; and he looked at the saint,
and the saint at him, and both their hearts were trembling. 'Can you
mention only one?' asked the saint, pointing a piece of the true cross
at him, hoping he might cling to it; 'even a little child will do; try
to think of some one.'

The earth was rocking beneath their feet, and the palace windows
darkened on them, with a tint of blood, for now the saint was come
inside, hoping to save the wizard.

'If I must tell the pure truth,' said the wizard, looking up at the
arches of his windows, 'I can tell of only one to whom I ever have done
good.'

'One will do; one is quite enough; be quick before the ground opens. The
name of one__and this cross will save you. Lay your thumb on the end of
it.'

'Nay, that I cannot do, great saint. The devil have mercy upon me.'

All this while the palace was sinking, and blackness coming over them.

'Thou hast all but done for thyself,' said the saint, with a glory
burning round his head; 'by that last invocation. Yet give us the name
of the one, my friend, if one there be; it will save thee, with the
cross upon thy breast. All is crashing round us; dear brother, who is
that one?'

'My own self,' cried the wretched wizard.

'Then there is no help for thee.' And with that the honest saint went
upward, and the wizard, and all his palace, and even the crag that bore
it, sank to the bowels of the earth; and over them was nothing left
except a black bog fringed with reed, of the tint of the wizard's
whiskers. The saint, however, was all right, after sleeping off the
excitement; and he founded a chapel, some three miles westward; and
there he lies with his holy relic and thither in after ages came (as
we all come home at last) both my Lorna's Aunt Sabina, and her guardian
Ensor Doone.

While yet I dwelled upon this strange story, wondering if it all were
true, and why such things do not happen now, a man on horseback appeared
as suddenly as if he had risen out of the earth, on the other side of
the great black slough. At first I was a little scared, my mind being
in the tune for wonders; but presently the white hair, whiter from the
blackness of the bog between us, showed me that it was Uncle Reuben come
to look for me, that way. Then I left my chair of rock, and waved my hat
and shouted to him, and the sound of my voice among the crags and lonely
corners frightened me.

Old Master Huckaback made no answer, but (so far as I could guess)
beckoned me to come to him. There was just room between the fringe of
reed and the belt of rock around it, for a man going very carefully to
escape that horrible pit_hole. And so I went round to the other side,
and there found open space enough, with stunted bushes, and starveling
trees, and straggling tufts of rushes.

'You fool, you are frightened,' said Uncle Ben, as he looked at my face
after shaking hands: 'I want a young man of steadfast courage, as well
as of strength and silence. And after what I heard of the battle at Glen
Doone, I thought I might trust you for courage.'

'So you may,' said I, 'wherever I see mine enemy; but not where witch
and wizard be.'

'Tush, great fool!' cried Master Huckaback; 'the only witch or wizard
here is the one that bewitcheth all men. Now fasten up my horse, John
Ridd, and not too near the slough, lad. Ah, we have chosen our entrance
wisely. Two good horsemen, and their horses, coming hither to spy us
out, are gone mining on their own account (and their last account it is)
down this good wizard's bog_hole.'

With these words, Uncle Reuben clutched the mane of his horse and came
down, as a man does when his legs are old; and as I myself begin to do,
at this time of writing. I offered a hand, but he was vexed, and would
have nought to do with it.

'Now follow me, step for step,' he said, when I had tethered his horse
to a tree; 'the ground is not death (like the wizard's hole), but many
parts are treacherous, I know it well by this time.'

Without any more ado, he led me in and out the marshy places, to a great
round hole or shaft, bratticed up with timber. I never had seen the like
before, and wondered how they could want a well, with so much water on
every side. Around the mouth were a few little heaps of stuff unused to
the daylight; and I thought at once of the tales I had heard concerning
mines in Cornwall, and the silver cup at Combe_Martin, sent to the Queen
Elizabeth.

'We had a tree across it, John,' said Uncle Reuben, smiling grimly at my
sudden shrink from it: 'but some rogue came spying here, just as one of
our men went up. He was frightened half out of his life, I believe, and
never ventured to come again. But we put the blame of that upon you. And
I see that we were wrong, John.' Here he looked at me with keen eyes,
though weak.

'You were altogether wrong,' I answered. 'Am I mean enough to spy upon
any one dwelling with us? And more than that, Uncle Reuben, it was mean
of you to suppose it.'

'All ideas are different,' replied the old man to my heat, like a little
worn_out rill running down a smithy; 'you with your strength and youth,
and all that, are inclined to be romantic. I take things as I have known
them, going on for seventy years. Now will you come and meet the wizard,
or does your courage fail you?'

'My courage must be none,' said I, 'if I would not go where you go,
sir.'

He said no more, but signed to me to lift a heavy wooden corb with an
iron loop across it, and sunk in a little pit of earth, a yard or so
from the mouth of the shaft. I raised it, and by his direction dropped
it into the throat of the shaft, where it hung and shook from a great
cross_beam laid at the level of the earth. A very stout thick rope was
fastened to the handle of the corb, and ran across a pulley hanging from
the centre of the beam, and thence out of sight in the nether places.

'I will first descend,' he said; 'your weight is too great for safety.
When the bucket comes up again, follow me, if your heart is good.'

Then he whistled down, with a quick sharp noise, and a whistle from
below replied; and he clomb into the vehicle, and the rope ran through
the pulley, and Uncle Ben went merrily down, and was out of sight,
before I had time to think of him.

Now being left on the bank like that, and in full sight of the goodly
heaven, I wrestled hard with my flesh and blood, about going down
into the pit_hole. And but for the pale shame of the thing, that a
white_headed man should adventure so, and green youth doubt about
it, never could I have made up my mind; for I do love air and heaven.
However, at last up came the bucket; and with a short sad prayer I went
into whatever might happen.

My teeth would chatter, do all I could; but the strength of my arms was
with me; and by them I held on the grimy rope, and so eased the foot
of the corb, which threatened to go away fathoms under me. Of course I
should still have been safe enough, being like an egg in an egg_cup, too
big to care for the bottom; still I wished that all should be done, in
good order, without excitement.

The scoopings of the side grew black, and the patch of sky above more
blue, as with many thoughts of Lorna, a long way underground I sank.
Then I was fetched up at the bottom with a jerk and rattle; and but for
holding by the rope so, must have tumbled over. Two great torches of
bale_resin showed me all the darkness, one being held by Uncle Ben and
the other by a short square man with a face which seemed well_known to
me.

'Hail to the world of gold, John Ridd,' said Master Huckaback, smiling
in the old dry manner; 'bigger coward never came down the shaft, now did
he, Carfax?'

'They be all alike,' said the short square man, 'fust time as they doos
it.'

'May I go to heaven,' I cried, 'which is a thing quite out of
sight'__for I always have a vein of humour, too small to be followed
by any one__'if ever again of my own accord I go so far away from it!'
Uncle Ben grinned less at this than at the way I knocked my shin in
getting out of the bucket; and as for Master Carfax, he would not
even deign to smile. And he seemed to look upon my entrance as an
interloping.

For my part, I had nought to do, after rubbing my bruised leg, except to
look about me, so far as the dullness of light would help. And herein I
seemed, like a mouse in a trap, able no more than to run to and fro,
and knock himself, and stare at things. For here was a little channel
grooved with posts on either side of it, and ending with a heap of
darkness, whence the sight came back again; and there was a scooped
place, like a funnel, but pouring only to darkness. So I waited for
somebody to speak first, not seeing my way to anything.'

'You seem to be disappointed, John,' said Uncle Reuben, looking blue by
the light of the flambeaux; 'did you expect to see the roof of gold, and
the sides of gold, and the floor of gold, John Ridd?'

'Ha, ha!' cried Master Carfax; 'I reckon her did; no doubt her did.'

'You are wrong,' I replied; 'but I did expect to see something better
than dirt and darkness.'

'Come on then, my lad; and we will show you some_thing better. We want
your great arm on here, for a job that has beaten the whole of us.'

With these words, Uncle Ben led the way along a narrow passage, roofed
with rock and floored with slate_coloured shale and shingle, and winding
in and out, until we stopped at a great stone block or boulder, lying
across the floor, and as large as my mother's best oaken wardrobe.
Beside it were several sledge_hammers, battered, and some with broken
helves.

'Thou great villain!' cried Uncle Ben, giving the boulder a little kick;
'I believe thy time is come at last. Now, John, give us a sample of the
things they tell of thee. Take the biggest of them sledge_hammers and
crack this rogue in two for us. We have tried at him for a fortnight,
and he is a nut worth cracking. But we have no man who can swing that
hammer, though all in the mine have handled it.'

'I will do my very best,' said I, pulling off my coat and waistcoat, as
if I were going to wrestle; 'but I fear he will prove too tough for me.'

'Ay, that her wull,' grunted Master Carfax; 'lack'th a Carnishman, and
a beg one too, not a little charp such as I be. There be no man outside
Carnwall, as can crack that boolder.'

'Bless my heart,' I answered; 'but I know something of you, my friend,
or at any rate of your family. Well, I have beaten most of your Cornish
men, though not my place to talk of it. But mind, if I crack this rock
for you, I must have some of the gold inside it.'

'Dost think to see the gold come tumbling out like the kernel of a nut,
thou zany?' asked Uncle Reuben pettishly; 'now wilt thou crack it or
wilt thou not? For I believe thou canst do it, though only a lad of
Somerset.'

Uncle Reuben showed by saying this, and by his glance at Carfax, that he
was proud of his county, and would be disappointed for it if I failed to
crack the boulder. So I begged him to stoop his torch a little, that
I might examine my subject. To me there appeared to be nothing at all
remarkable about it, except that it sparkled here and there, when the
flash of the flame fell upon it. A great obstinate, oblong, sullen
stone; how could it be worth the breaking, except for making roads with?

Nevertheless, I took up the hammer, and swinging it far behind my head,
fetched it down, with all my power, upon the middle of the rock. The
roof above rang mightily, and the echo went down delven galleries, so
that all the miners flocked to know what might be doing. But Master
Carfax only smiled, although the blow shook him where he stood, for
behold the stone was still unbroken, and as firm as ever. Then I smote
it again, with no better fortune, and Uncle Ben looked vexed and angry,
but all the miners grinned with triumph.

'This little tool is too light,' I cried; 'one of you give me a piece of
strong cord.'

Then I took two more of the weightiest hammers, and lashed them fast to
the back of mine, not so as to strike, but to burden the fall. Having
made this firm, and with room to grasp the handle of the largest one
only__for the helves of the others were shorter__I smiled at Uncle Ben,
and whirled the mighty implement round my head, just to try whether I
could manage it. Upon that the miners gave a cheer, being honest men,
and desirous of seeing fair play between this 'shameless stone' (as Dan
Homer calls it) and me with my hammer hammering.

Then I swung me on high to the swing of the sledge, as a thresher
bends back to the rise of his flail, and with all my power descending
delivered the ponderous onset. Crashing and crushed the great stone fell
over, and threads of sparkling gold appeared in the jagged sides of the
breakage.

'How now, Simon Carfax?' cried Uncle Ben triumphantly; 'wilt thou find a
man in Cornwall can do the like of that?'

'Ay, and more,' he answered; 'however, it be pretty fair for a lad of
these outlandish parts. Get your rollers, my lads, and lead it to the
crushing engine.'

I was glad to have been of some service to them; for it seems that this
great boulder had been too large to be drawn along the gallery and too
hard to crack. But now they moved it very easily, taking piece by piece,
and carefully picking up the fragments.

'Thou hast done us a good turn, my lad,' said Uncle Reuben, as the
others passed out of sight at the corner; 'and now I will show thee the
bottom of a very wondrous mystery. But we must not do it more than once,
for the time of day is the wrong one.'

The whole affair being a mystery to me, and far beyond my understanding,
I followed him softly, without a word, yet thinking very heavily, and
longing to be above ground again. He led me through small passages, to a
hollow place near the descending shaft, where I saw a most extraordinary
monster fitted up. In form it was like a great coffee_mill, such as
I had seen in London, only a thousand times larger, and with heavy
windlass to work it.

'Put in a barrow_load of the smoulder,' said Uncle Ben to Carfax, 'and
let them work the crank, for John to understand a thing or two.'

'At this time of day!' cried Simon Carfax; 'and the watching as has been
o' late!'

However, he did it without more remonstrance; pouring into the scuttle
at the top of the machine about a baskeful of broken rock; and then a
dozen men went to the wheel, and forced it round, as sailors do. Upon
that such a hideous noise arose, as I never should have believed any
creature capable of making, and I ran to the well of the mine for air,
and to ease my ears, if possible.

'Enough, enough!' shouted Uncle Ben by the time I was nearly deafened;
'we will digest our goodly boulder after the devil is come abroad for
his evening work. Now, John, not a word about what you have learned; but
henceforth you will not be frightened by the noise we make at dusk.'

I could not deny but what this was very clever management. If they could
not keep the echoes of the upper air from moving, the wisest plan was to
open their valves during the discouragement of the falling evening;
when folk would rather be driven away, than drawn into the wilds and
quagmires, by a sound so deep and awful, coming through the darkness.


Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore Deluxe Edition Chapter 59

LORNA GONE AWAY

Although there are very ancient tales of gold being found upon Exmoor,
in lumps and solid hummocks, and of men who slew one another for it,
this deep digging and great labour seemed to me a dangerous and unholy
enterprise. And Master Huckaback confessed that up to the present time
his two partners and himself (for they proved to be three adventurers)
had put into the earth more gold than they had taken out of it.
Nevertheless he felt quite sure that it must in a very short time
succeed, and pay them back an hundredfold; and he pressed me with great
earnestness to join them, and work there as much as I could, without
moving my mother's suspicions. I asked him how they had managed so long
to carry on without discovery; and he said that this was partly through
the wildness of the neighbourhood, and the legends that frightened
people of a superstitious turn; partly through their own great caution,
and the manner of fetching both supplies and implements by night;
but most of all, they had to thank the troubles of the period, the
suspicions of rebellion, and the terror of the Doones, which (like the
wizard I was speaking of) kept folk from being too inquisitive where
they had no business. The slough, moreover, had helped them well,
both by making their access dark, and yet more by swallowing up and
concealing all that was cast from the mouth of the pit. Once, before
the attack on Glen Doone, they had a narrow escape from the King's
Commissioner; for Captain Stickles having heard no doubt the story of
John Fry, went with half a dozen troopers, on purpose to search the
neighbourhood. Now if he had ridden alone, most likely he would have
discovered everything; but he feared to venture so, having suspicion of
a trap. Coming as they did in a company, all mounted and conspicuous,
the watchman (who was posted now on the top of the hill, almost every
day since John Fry's appearance) could not help espying them, miles
distant, over the moorland. He watched them under the shade of his hand,
and presently ran down the hill, and raised a great commotion. Then
Simon Carfax and all his men came up, and made things natural, removing
every sign of work; and finally, sinking underground, drew across the
mouth of the pit a hurdle thatched with sedge and heather. Only Simon
himself was left behind, ensconced in a hole of the crags, to observe
the doings of the enemy.

Captain Stickles rode very bravely, with all his men clattering after
him, down the rocky pass, and even to the margin of the slough. And
there they stopped, and held council; for it was a perilous thing to
risk the passage upon horseback, between the treacherous brink and
the cliff, unless one knew it thoroughly. Stickles, however, and one
follower, carefully felt the way along, having their horses well in
hand, and bearing a rope to draw them out, in case of being foundered.
Then they spurred across the rough boggy land, farther away than the
shaft was. Here the ground lay jagged and shaggy, wrought up with high
tufts of reed, or scragged with stunted brushwood. And between the ups
and downs (which met anybody anyhow) green_covered places tempted the
foot, and black bog_holes discouraged it. It is not to be marvelled at
that amid such place as this, for the first time visited, the horses
were a little skeary; and their riders partook of the feeling, as all
good riders do. In and out of the tufts they went, with their eyes
dilating, wishing to be out of harm, if conscience were but satisfied.
And of this tufty flaggy ground, pocked with bogs and boglets, one
especial nature is that it will not hold impressions.

Seeing thus no track of men, nor anything but marsh_work, and stormwork,
and of the seasons, these two honest men rode back, and were glad to do
so. For above them hung the mountains, cowled with fog, and seamed with
storm; and around them desolation; and below their feet the grave. Hence
they went, with all goodwill; and vowed for ever afterwards that fear of
a simple place like that was only too ridiculous. So they all rode
home with mutual praises, and their courage well_approved; and the only
result of the expedition was to confirm John Fry's repute as a bigger
liar than ever.

Now I had enough of that underground work, as before related, to last me
for a year to come; neither would I, for sake of gold, have ever stepped
into that bucket, of my own goodwill again. But when I told Lorna__whom
I could trust in any matter of secrecy, as if she had never been a
woman__all about my great descent, and the honeycombing of the earth,
and the mournful noise at eventide, when the gold was under the crusher
and bewailing the mischief it must do, then Lorna's chief desire was to
know more about Simon Carfax.

'It must be our Gwenny's father,' she cried; 'the man who disappeared
underground, and whom she has ever been seeking. How grieved the poor
little thing will be, if it should turn out, after all, that he left his
child on purpose! I can hardly believe it; can you, John?'

'Well,' I replied; 'all men are wicked, more or less, to some extent;
and no man may say otherwise.'

For I did not wish to commit myself to an opinion about Simon, lest I
might be wrong, and Lorna think less of my judgment.

But being resolved to see this out, and do a good turn, if I could, to
Gwenny, who had done me many a good one, I begged my Lorna to say not a
word of this matter to the handmaiden, until I had further searched
it out. And to carry out this resolve, I went again to the place of
business where they were grinding gold as freely as an apothecary at his
pills.

Having now true right of entrance, and being known to the watchman, and
regarded (since I cracked the boulder) as one who could pay his footing,
and perhaps would be the master, when Uncle Ben should be choked with
money, I found the corb sent up for me rather sooner than I wished it.
For the smell of the places underground, and the way men's eyes came out
of them, with links, and brands, and flambeaux, instead of God's light
to look at, were to me a point of caution, rather than of pleasure.

No doubt but what some men enjoy it, being born, like worms, to dig, and
to live in their own scoopings. Yet even the worms come up sometimes,
after a good soft shower of rain, and hold discourse with one another;
whereas these men, and the horses let down, come above ground never.

And the changing of the sky is half the change our nature calls for.
Earth we have, and all its produce (moving from the first appearance,
and the hope with infants' eyes, through the bloom of beauty's promise,
to the rich and ripe fulfilment, and the falling back to rest); sea we
have (with all its wonder shed on eyes, and ears, and heart; and the
thought of something more)__but without the sky to look at, what would
earth, and sea, and even our own selves, be to us?

Do we look at earth with hope? Yes, for victuals only. Do we look at
sea with hope? Yes, that we may escape it. At the sky alone (though
questioned with the doubts of sunshine, or scattered with uncertain
stars), at the sky alone we look with pure hope and with memory.

Hence it always hurt my feelings when I got into that bucket, with my
small_clothes turned up over, and a kerchief round my hat. But knowing
that my purpose was sound, and my motives pure, I let the sky grow to
a little blue hole, and then to nothing over me. At the bottom Master
Carfax met me, being captain of the mine, and desirous to know my
business. He wore a loose sack round his shoulders, and his beard was
two feet long.

'My business is to speak with you,' I answered rather sternly; for
this man, who was nothing more than Uncle Reuben's servant, had carried
things too far with me, showing no respect whatever; and though I did
not care for much, I liked to receive a little, even in my early days.

'Coom into the muck_hole, then,' was his gracious answer; and he led me
into a filthy cell, where the miners changed their jackets.

'Simon Carfax, I began, with a manner to discourage him; 'I fear you are
a shallow fellow, and not worth my trouble.'

'Then don't take it,' he replied; 'I want no man's trouble.'

'For your sake I would not,' I answered; 'but for your daughter's sake
I will; the daughter whom you left to starve so pitifully in the
wilderness.'

The man stared at me with his pale gray eyes, whose colour was lost from
candle light; and his voice as well as his body shook, while he cried,__

'It is a lie, man. No daughter, and no son have I. Nor was ever child of
mine left to starve in the wilderness. You are too big for me to tackle,
and that makes you a coward for saying it.' His hands were playing with
a pickaxe helve, as if he longed to have me under it.

'Perhaps I have wronged you, Simon,' I answered very softly; for the
sweat upon his forehead shone in the smoky torchlight; 'if I have, I
crave your pardon. But did you not bring up from Cornwall a little maid
named "Gwenny," and supposed to be your daughter?'

'Ay, and she was my daughter, my last and only child of five; and for
her I would give this mine, and all the gold will ever come from it.'

'You shall have her, without either mine or gold; if you only prove to
me that you did not abandon her.'

'Abandon her! I abandon Gwenny!' He cried with such a rage of scorn,
that I at once believed him. 'They told me she was dead, and crushed,
and buried in the drift here; and half my heart died with her. The
Almighty blast their mining_work, if the scoundrels lied to me!'

'The scoundrels must have lied to you,' I answered, with a spirit fired
by his heat of fury: 'the maid is living and with us. Come up; and you
shall see her.'

'Rig the bucket,' he shouted out along the echoing gallery; and then he
fell against the wall, and through the grimy sack I saw the heaving of
his breast, as I have seen my opponent's chest, in a long hard bout of
wrestling. For my part, I could do no more than hold my tongue and look
at him.

Without another word we rose to the level of the moors and mires;
neither would Master Carfax speak, as I led him across the barrows. In
this he was welcome to his own way, for I do love silence; so little
harm can come of it. And though Gwenny was no beauty, her father might
be fond of her.

So I put him in the cow_house (not to frighten the little maid), and
the folding shutters over him, such as we used at the beestings; and he
listened to my voice outside, and held on, and preserved himself. For
now he would have scooped the earth, as cattle do at yearning_time, and
as meekly and as patiently, to have his child restored to him. Not to
make long tale of it__for this thing is beyond me, through want of true
experience__I went and fetched his Gwenny forth from the back kitchen,
where she was fighting, as usual, with our Betty.

'Come along, you little Vick,' I said, for so we called her; 'I have a
message to you, Gwenny, from the Lord in heaven.'

'Don't 'ee talk about He,' she answered; 'Her have long forgatten me.'

'That He has never done, you stupid. Come, and see who is in the
cowhouse.'

Gwenny knew; she knew in a moment. Looking into my eyes, she knew; and
hanging back from me to sigh, she knew it even better.

She had not much elegance of emotion, being flat and square all over;
but none the less for that her heart came quick, and her words came
slowly.

'Oh, Jan, you are too good to cheat me. Is it joke you are putting upon
me?'

I answered her with a gaze alone; and she tucked up her clothes and
followed me because the road was dirty. Then I opened the door just wide
enough for the child to to go her father, and left those two to have it
out, as might be most natural. And they took a long time about it.

Meanwhile I needs must go and tell my Lorna all the matter; and her joy
was almost as great as if she herself had found a father. And the
wonder of the whole was this, that I got all the credit; of which not
a thousandth part belonged by right and reason to me. Yet so it almost
always is. If I work for good desert, and slave, and lie awake at night,
and spend my unborn life in dreams, not a blink, nor wink, nor inkling
of my labour ever tells. It would have been better to leave unburned,
and to keep undevoured, the fuel and the food of life. But if I have
laboured not, only acted by some impulse, whim, caprice, or anything;
or even acting not at all, only letting things float by; piled upon me
commendations, bravoes, and applauses, almost work me up to tempt once
again (though sick of it) the ill luck of deserving.

Without intending any harm, and meaning only good indeed, I had now done
serious wrong to Uncle Reuben's prospects. For Captain Carfax was full
as angry at the trick played on him as he was happy in discovering the
falsehood and the fraud of it. Nor could I help agreeing with him, when
he told me all of it, as with tears in his eyes he did, and ready to be
my slave henceforth; I could not forbear from owning that it was a low
and heartless trick, unworthy of men who had families; and the recoil
whereof was well deserved, whatever it might end in.

For when this poor man left his daughter, asleep as he supposed, and
having his food, and change of clothes, and Sunday hat to see to, he
meant to return in an hour or so, and settle about her sustenance in
some house of the neighbourhood. But this was the very thing of all
things which the leaders of the enterprise, who had brought him up from
Cornwall, for his noted skill in metals, were determined, whether by
fair means or foul, to stop at the very outset. Secrecy being their main
object, what chance could there be of it, if the miners were allowed to
keep their children in the neighbourhood? Hence, on the plea of feasting
Simon, they kept him drunk for three days and three nights, assuring him
(whenever he had gleams enough to ask for her) that his daughter was as
well as could be, and enjoying herself with the children. Not wishing
the maid to see him tipsy, he pressed the matter no further; but applied
himself to the bottle again, and drank her health with pleasure.

However, after three days of this, his constitution rose against it, and
he became quite sober; with a certain lowness of heart moreover, and a
sense of error. And his first desire to right himself, and easiest way
to do it, was by exerting parental authority upon Gwenny. Possessed with
this intention (for he was not a sweet tempered man, and his head was
aching sadly) he sought for Gwenny high and low; first with threats, and
then with fears, and then with tears and wailing. And so he became to
the other men a warning and a great annoyance. Therefore they combined
to swear what seemed a very likely thing, and might be true for all
they knew, to wit, that Gwenny had come to seek for her father down the
shaft_hole, and peering too eagerly into the dark, had toppled forward,
and gone down, and lain at the bottom as dead as a stone.

'And thou being so happy with drink,' the villains finished up to him,
'and getting drunker every day, we thought it shame to trouble thee; and
we buried the wench in the lower drift; and no use to think more of her;
but come and have a glass, Sim.'

But Simon Carfax swore that drink had lost him his wife, and now had
lost him the last of his five children, and would lose him his own soul,
if further he went on with it; and from that day to his death he never
touched strong drink again. Nor only this; but being soon appointed
captain of the mine, he allowed no man on any pretext to bring cordials
thither; and to this and his stern hard rule and stealthy secret
management (as much as to good luck and place) might it be attributed
that scarcely any but themselves had dreamed about this Exmoor mine.

As for me, I had no ambition to become a miner; and the state to which
gold_seeking had brought poor Uncle Ben was not at all encouraging. My
business was to till the ground, and tend the growth that came of it,
and store the fruit in Heaven's good time, rather than to scoop and
burrow like a weasel or a rat for the yellow root of evil. Moreover, I
was led from home, between the hay and corn harvests (when we often have
a week to spare), by a call there was no resisting; unless I gave up all
regard for wrestling, and for my county.

Now here many persons may take me amiss, and there always has been some
confusion; which people who ought to have known better have wrought into
subject of quarrelling. By birth it is true, and cannot be denied,
that I am a man of Somerset; nevertheless by breed I am, as well as by
education, a son of Devon also. And just as both of our two counties
vowed that Glen Doone was none of theirs, but belonged to the other
one; so now, each with hot claim and jangling (leading even to blows
sometimes), asserted and would swear to it (as I became more famous)
that John Ridd was of its own producing, bred of its own true blood, and
basely stolen by the other.

Now I have not judged it in any way needful or even becoming and
delicate, to enter into my wrestling adventures, or describe my
progress. The whole thing is so different from Lorna, and her gentle
manners, and her style of walking; moreover I must seem (even to kind
people) to magnify myself so much, or at least attempt to do it, that I
have scratched out written pages, through my better taste and sense.

Neither will I, upon this head, make any difference even now; being
simply betrayed into mentioning the matter because bare truth requires
it, in the tale of Lorna's fortunes.

For a mighty giant had arisen in a part of Cornwall: and his calf was
twenty_five inches round, and the breadth of his shoulders two feet
and a quarter; and his stature seven feet and three_quarters. Round the
chest he was seventy inches, and his hand a foot across, and there were
no scales strong enough to judge of his weight in the market_place. Now
this man__or I should say, his backers and his boasters, for the giant
himself was modest__sent me a brave and haughty challenge, to meet
him in the ring at Bodmin_town, on the first day of August, or else to
return my champion's belt to them by the messenger.

It is no use to deny but that I was greatly dashed and scared at first.
For my part, I was only, when measured without clothes on, sixty inches
round the breast, and round the calf scarce twenty_one, only two feet
across the shoulders, and in height not six and three_quarters. However,
my mother would never believe that this man could beat me; and Lorna
being of the same mind, I resolved to go and try him, as they would pay
all expenses and a hundred pounds, if I conquered him; so confident were
those Cornishmen.

Now this story is too well known for me to go through it again and
again. Every child in Devonshire knows, and his grandson will know, the
song which some clever man made of it, after I had treated him to water,
and to lemon, and a little sugar, and a drop of eau_de_vie. Enough that
I had found the giant quite as big as they had described him, and enough
to terrify any one. But trusting in my practice and study of the art, I
resolved to try a back with him; and when my arms were round him once,
the giant was but a farthingale put into the vice of a blacksmith. The
man had no bones; his frame sank in, and I was afraid of crushing him.
He lay on his back, and smiled at me; and I begged his pardon.

Now this affair made a noise at the time, and redounded so much to my
credit, that I was deeply grieved at it, because deserving none. For
I do like a good strife and struggle; and the doubt makes the joy of
victory; whereas in this case, I might as well have been sent for a
match with a hay_mow. However, I got my hundred pounds, and made up my
mind to spend every farthing in presents for mother and Lorna.

For Annie was married by this time, and long before I went away; as need
scarcely be said, perhaps; if any one follows the weeks and the months.
The wedding was quiet enough, except for everybody's good wishes; and I
desire not to dwell upon it, because it grieved me in many ways.

But now that I had tried to hope the very best for dear Annie, a deeper
blow than could have come, even through her, awaited me. For after that
visit to Cornwall, and with my prize_money about me, I came on foot
from Okehampton to Oare, so as to save a little sum towards my time of
marrying. For Lorna's fortune I would not have; small or great I would
not have it; only if there were no denying we would devote the whole of
it to charitable uses, as Master Peter Blundell had done; and perhaps
the future ages would endeavour to be grateful. Lorna and I had settled
this question at least twice a day, on the average; and each time with
more satisfaction.

Now coming into the kitchen with all my cash in my breeches pocket
(golden guineas, with an elephant on them, for the stamp of the Guinea
Company), I found dear mother most heartily glad to see me safe and
sound again__for she had dreaded that giant, and dreamed of him__and
she never asked me about the money. Lizzie also was softer, and more
gracious than usual; especially when she saw me pour guineas, like
peppercorns, into the pudding_basin. But by the way they hung about, I
knew that something was gone wrong.

'Where is Lorna?' I asked at length, after trying not to ask it; 'I want
her to come, and see my money. She never saw so much before.'

'Alas!' said mother with a heavy sigh; 'she will see a great deal more,
I fear; and a deal more than is good for her. Whether you ever see her
again will depend upon her nature, John.'

'What do you mean, mother? Have you quarrelled? Why does not Lorna come
to me? Am I never to know?'

'Now, John, be not so impatient,' my mother replied, quite calmly, for
in truth she was jealous of Lorna, 'you could wait now, very well, John,
if it were till this day week, for the coming of your mother, John. And
yet your mother is your best friend. Who can ever fill her place?'

Thinking of her future absence, mother turned away and cried; and the
box_iron singed the blanket.

'Now,' said I, being wild by this time; 'Lizzie, you have a little
sense; will you tell me where is Lorna?'

'The Lady Lorna Dugal,' said Lizzie, screwing up her lips as if the
title were too grand, 'is gone to London, brother John; and not likely
to come back again. We must try to get on without her.'

'You little__[something]' I cried, which I dare not write down here,
as all you are too good for such language; but Lizzie's lip provoked me
so__'my Lorna gone, my Lorna gone! And without good_bye to me even! It
is your spite has sickened her.'

'You are quite mistaken there,' she replied; 'how can folk of low degree
have either spite or liking towards the people so far above them? The
Lady Lorna Dugal is gone, because she could not help herself; and she
wept enough to break ten hearts__if hearts are ever broken, John.'

'Darling Lizzie, how good you are!' I cried, without noticing her sneer;
'tell me all about it, dear; tell me every word she said.'

'That will not take long,' said Lizzie, quite as unmoved by soft coaxing
as by urgent cursing; 'the lady spoke very little to any one, except
indeed to mother, and to Gwenny Carfax; and Gwenny is gone with her, so
that the benefit of that is lost. But she left a letter for "poor John,"
as in charity she called him. How grand she looked, to be sure, with the
fine clothes on that were come for her!'

'Where is the letter, you utter vixen! Oh, may you have a husband!'

'Who will thresh it out of you, and starve it, and swear it out of you!'
was the meaning of my imprecation: but Lizzie, not dreaming as yet of
such things, could not understand me, and was rather thankful; therefore
she answered quietly,__

'The letter is in the little cupboard, near the head of Lady Lorna's
bed, where she used to keep the diamond necklace, which we contrived to
get stolen.'

Without another word I rushed (so that every board in the house shook)
up to my lost Lorna's room, and tore the little wall_niche open and
espied my treasure. It was as simple, and as homely, and loving, as even
I could wish. Part of it ran as follows,__the other parts it behoves me
not to open out to strangers:__'My own love, and sometime lord,__Take it
not amiss of me, that even without farewell, I go; for I cannot persuade
the men to wait, your return being doubtful. My great_uncle, some grand
lord, is awaiting me at Dunster, having fear of venturing too near this
Exmoor country. I, who have been so lawless always, and the child of
outlaws, am now to atone for this, it seems, by living in a court of
law, and under special surveillance (as they call it, I believe) of
His Majesty's Court of Chancery. My uncle is appointed my guardian and
master; and I must live beneath his care, until I am twenty_one years
old. To me this appears a dreadful thing, and very unjust, and cruel;
for why should I lose my freedom, through heritage of land and gold? I
offered to abandon all if they would only let me go; I went down on my
knees to them, and said I wanted titles not, neither land, nor money;
only to stay where I was, where first I had known happiness. But they
only laughed and called me "child," and said I must talk of that to the
King's High Chancellor. Their orders they had, and must obey them; and
Master Stickles was ordered too, to help as the King's Commissioner. And
then, although it pierced my heart not to say one "goodbye, John," I
was glad upon the whole that you were not here to dispute it. For I am
almost certain that you would not, without force to yourself, have let
your Lorna go to people who never, never can care for her.'

Here my darling had wept again, by the tokens on the paper; and then
there followed some sweet words, too sweet for me to chatter them.
But she finished with these noble lines, which (being common to all
humanity, in a case of steadfast love) I do no harm, but rather help all
true love by repeating. 'Of one thing rest you well assured__and I do
hope that it may prove of service to your rest, love, else would my own
be broken__no difference of rank, or fortune, or of life itself, shall
ever make me swerve from truth to you. We have passed through many
troubles, dangers, and dispartments, but never yet was doubt between us;
neither ever shall be. Each has trusted well the other; and still
each must do so. Though they tell you I am false, though your own mind
harbours it, from the sense of things around, and your own undervaluing,
yet take counsel of your heart, and cast such thoughts away from you;
being unworthy of itself they must be unworthy also of the one who
dwells there; and that one is, and ever shall be, your own Lorna Dugal.'

Some people cannot understand that tears should come from pleasure; but
whether from pleasure or from sorrow (mixed as they are in the twisted
strings of a man's heart, or a woman's), great tears fell from my stupid
eyes, even on the blots of Lorna's.

'No doubt it is all over,' my mind said to me bitterly; 'trust me, all
shall yet be right,' my heart replied very sweetly.