Erema; Or, My Father's Sin

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XLIII

  GOING TO THE BOTTOM

  It is not needful to explain every thing, any more than it was for me totell the miller about my golden eagle, and how I had managed to lose itin the Moon--a trick of which now I was heartily ashamed, in the faceof honest kindness. So I need not tell how Master Withypool managed tosettle with his men, and to keep the boys unwitting of what was aboutto come to pass. Enough that I got a note from him to tell me that thelittle river would be run out, just when all Shoxford was intent uponits dinner, on the second day after I had seen him. And he could not sayfor certain, but thought it pretty safe, that nobody would come near me,if I managed to be there at a quarter before one, when the stream wouldbegin to run dry, and I could watch it. I sent back a line by the prettylittle girl, a sister of poor Polly, to say how much I thanked him,and how much I hoped that he himself would meet me there, if his timeallowed. For he had been too delicate to say a word of that; but I feltthat he had a good right to be there, and, knowing him now, I was notafraid.

  Nearly every thing came about as well as could be wished almost. MasterWithypool took the precaution, early in the morning, to set his greatfierce bull at large, who always stopped the foot-path. This bull knewwell the powers of a valley in conducting sound; and he loved to stand,as if at the mouth of a funnel, and roar down it to another bull a milebelow him, belonging to his master's brother-in-law. And when he didthis, there was scarcely a boy, much less a man or woman, withany desire to assert against him the public right of thoroughfare.Throughout that forenoon, then, this bull bellowed nobly, still findingmany very wicked flies about, so that two mitching boys, who meant tofish for minnows with a pin, were obliged to run away again.

  However, I was in the dark about him, and as much afraid of him as anybody, when he broke into sight of me round a corner, without any tokensof amity. I had seen a great many great bulls before, including UncleSam's good black one, who might not have meant any mischief at all, andatoned for it--if he did--by being washed away so.

  And therefore my courage soon returned, when it became quite clear thatthis animal now had been fastened with a rope, and could come no nearer.For some little time, then, I waited all alone, as near that bridge as Icould bring myself to stand, for Mrs. Busk, my landlady, could not leavethe house yet, on account of the mid-day letters. Moreover, she thoughtthat she had better stay away, as our object was to do things as quietlyas could be.

  Much as I had watched this bridge from a distance, or from mysheltering-place, I had never been able to bring myself to make any kindof sketch of it, or even to insert it in a landscape, although itwas very well suited and expressive, from its crooked and antiquesimplicity. The overhanging, also, of the hawthorn-tree (not ruddy yet,but russety with its coloring crop of coral), and the shaggy freaks ofivy above the twisted trunk, and the curve of the meadows and bold elbowof the brook, were such as an artist would have pitched his tent for,and tantalized poor London people with a dream of cool repose.

  As yet the little river showed no signs of doing what the rustic--orsurely it should have been the cockney--was supposed to stand still andwait for. There was no great rush of headlong water, for that is notthe manner of the stream in the very worst of weather; but there was theusual style of coming on, with lips and steps at the sides, and cords ofrunning toward the middle. Quite enough, at any rate, to make the troutjump, without any omen of impending drought, and to keep all the playand the sway of movement going on serenely.

  I began to be afraid that the miller must have failed in his stratagemagainst the water-god, and that, as I had read in Pope's Homer, theliquid deity would beat the hero, when all of a sudden there were signsthat man was the master of this little rustic. Broadswords of flag andrapiers of water-grass, which had been quivering merrily, began to hangdown and to dip themselves in loops, and the stones of the brink showeddark green stripes on their sides as they stood naked. Then fine littlecakes of conglomerated stuff, which only a great man of nature coulddescribe, came floating about, and curdling into corners, and holdingon to one another in long-tailed strings. But they might do what theyliked, and make their very best of it, as they fell away to nothing uponstones and mud. For now more important things began to open, the likeof which never had been yielded up before--plots of slimy gravel, variedwith long streaks of yellow mud, dotted with large double shells, andparted into little oozy runs by wriggling water-weeds. And here wasgreat commotion and sad panic of the fish, large fellows splashing andquite jumping out of water, as their favorite hovers and shelves randry, and darting away, with their poor backs in the air, to the deepesthole they could think of. Hundreds must have come to flour, lard, andbutter if boys had been there to take advantage. But luckily things hadbeen done so well that boys were now in their least injurious moment,destroying nothing worse than their own dinners.

  A very little way below the old wooden bridge the little river ran intoa deepish pool, as generally happens at or near a corner, especiallywhere there is a confluence sometimes. And seeing nothing, as I began tosearch intently, stirring with a long-handled spud which I had brought,I concluded that even my golden eagle had been carried into that deepplace. However, water or no water, I resolved to have it out with thatdark pool as soon as the rest of the channel should be drained, whichtook a tormenting time to do; and having thick boots on, I pinned up myskirts, and jumping down into the shoals, began to paddle in a fashionwhich reminded me of childish days passed pleasantly in the Blue River.

  Too busy thus to give a thought to any other thing, I did not even seethe miller, until he said,

  "Good-day, miss," lifting his hat, with a nice kind smile. "Very busy,miss, I see, and right you are to be so. The water will be upon us againin less than half an hour. Now let me clear away they black weeds foryou. I brought this little shivel a-purpose. If I may make so bold,miss, what do 'e look to find here?"

  "I have not the very smallest notion," I could only answer; "but ifthere is any thing, it must be in that hole. I have searched all theshallow part so closely that I doubt whether even a sixpence couldescape me, unless it were buried in the mud or pebbles. Oh, how can Imanage to search that hole? There must be a yard of water there."

  "One thing I ought to have told 'e for to do," Master Withypoolwhispered, as he went on shoveling--"to do what the boys do when theylose a farden--to send another after un. If so be now, afore the waterwas run out, you had stood on that there bridge, and dropped a brightcoin into it, a new half crown or a two-shilling piece, why, the chanceswould be that the run of the current would 'a taken it nigh to thelikeliest spot for holding any other little matter as might 'a dropped,permiskous, you might say, into this same water."

  "I have done so," I answered; "I have done that very thing, though notat all with that object. The day before yesterday a beautiful coin, agolden eagle of America, fell from my pocket on that upper plank, androlled into the water. I would not lose it for a great deal, because itwas given to me by my dearest friend, the greatest of all millers."

  "And ha'n't you found it yet, miss? Well, that is queer. Perhaps weshall find it now, with something to the back of it. I thought yon holewas too far below the bridge. But there your gold must be, and somethingelse, most likely. Plaise to wait a little bit, and us 'll have the wetout of un. I never should 'a thought of that but for your gold guinea,though."

  With these words Master Withypool pulled his coat off and rolled up hisshirt sleeves, displaying arms fit to hold their own even with UncleSam's almost; and then he fell to with his shovel and dug, while I ranwith my little spud to help.

  "Plaise keep out of way, miss; I be afeard of knocking you. Not but whatyou works very brave indeed, miss."

  Knowing what men are concerning "female efforts," I got out of thestrong man's way, although there was plenty of room for me. What hewanted to do was plain enough--to dig a trench down the empty bed of theMoon River, deep enough to drain that pit before the stream came downagain.

  "Never thought to run a race
against my own old dam," he said, as hestopped for a moment to recover breath. "Us never knows what us may haveto do. Old dam must be a'most busting now. But her's sound enough, tillher beginneth to run over."

  I did not say a word, because it might have done some mischief, but Icould not help looking rather anxiously up stream, for fear of the watercoming down with a rush, as it very soon must do. Master Withypool hadbeen working, not as I myself would have done, from the lips of the darkpit downward, but from a steep run some twenty yards below, where therewas almost a little cascade when the river was full flowing; from thishe had made his channel upward, cutting deeper as he came along, tillnow, at the brink of the obstinate pool, his trench was two feet deepalmost. I had no idea that any man could work so with a shovel, whichseems such a clumsy tool compared with a spade: but a gentleman whoknows the country and the people told me that, with their native weapon,Moonites will do as much digging in an hour as other folk get through inan hour and a half with a spade. But this may be only, perhaps, becausethey are working harder.

  "Now," said Master Withypool at last, standing up, with a very red face,and desiring to keep all that unheeded--"now, miss, to you it belongethto tap this here little cornder, if desirable. Plaise to excoose of megoing up of bank to tell 'e when the wet cometh down again."

  "Please to do nothing of the sort," I answered, knowing that he offeredto stand out of sight from a delicate dread of intrusion. "Please to tapthe pool yourself, and stay here, as a witness of what we find in it."

  "As you plaise, miss, as you plaise. Not a moment for to lose inarguing. Harken now, the water is atopping of our dam. Her will be herein five minutes."

  With three or four rapid turns of his shovel, which he spun almostas fast as a house-maid spins a mop, he fetched out the plug of earthsevering his channel from the deep, reluctant hole. And then I saw thewisdom of his way of working: for if he had dug downward from the poolitself, the water would have followed him all the way, and even drownedhis tool out of its own strokes; whereas now, with a swirl and a curl ofropy mud, away rushed the thick, sluggish, obstinate fluid, and in lessthan two minutes the hole was almost dry.

  The first thing I saw was my golden eagle, lodged about half-way downthe slope on a crust of black sludge, from which I caught it up andpresented it to Master Withypool, as a small token and record of hiskindness; and to this day he carries it upon his Sunday watch chain.

  "I always am lucky in finding things," I exclaimed, while he watchedme, and the up stream too, whence a babble of water was approaching. "Assure as I live I have found it!"

  "No doubt about your living, miss. And the Captain were always lively.But what have your bright eyes hit upon? I see nort for the life of me."

  "Look there," I cried, "at the very bottom of it--almost under thewater. Here, where I put my spud--a bright blue line! Oh, can I go down,or is it quicksand?"

  "No quicksand in our little river, miss. But your father's daughtershannot go into the muck, while John Withypool stands by. I see un now,sure enough; now I see un! But her needeth care, or her may all goo awayin mullock. Well, I thought my eyes was sharp enough; but I'm blest if Ishould have spied that, though. A bit of flint, mebbe, or of blue glassbottle. Anyhow, us will see the bottom of un."

  He was wasting no time while he spoke, but working steadfastly for hispurpose, fixing the blade of his shovel below the little blue line Iwas peering at, so that no slip of the soft yellow slush should buryit down, and plunge over it. If that had once happened, good-by to allchance of ever beholding this thing again, for the river was coming,with fury and foam, to assert its ancient right of way.

  With a short laugh the miller jumped down into the pit. "Me to be servedso, by my own mill-stream! Lor', if I don't pay you out for this!"

  His righteous wrath failed to stop the water from pouring into the pitbehind him; and, strong as he was, he nearly lost his footing, havingonly mud to stand upon. It seemed to me that he was going to be drowned,and I offered him the handle of my spud to help him; but he stoppedwhere he was, and was not going to be hurried.

  "I got un now," he said; "now I don't mind coming out. You see if Idon't pay you out for this! Why, I always took you for a reasonablehanimal."

  He shook his fist strongly at the river, which had him well up to themiddle by this time; and then he disdainfully waded out, with wrath inall his countenance.

  "I've a great mind to stop there, and see what her would do," he said tome, forgetting altogether what he went for. "And I would, if I had hadmy dinner. A scat of a thing as I can manage with my thumb! Ah, you havemade a bad day of it."

  "But what have you found, Mr. Withypool?" I asked, for I could not enterinto his wrath against the water, wet as he was to the shoulders. "Youhave something in your hand. May I see it, if you please? And then doplease to go home and change your clothes."

  "A thing I never did in my life, miss, and should be ashamed to begin atthis age. Clothes gets wet, and clothes dries on us, same as un did onthe sheep afore us; else they gets stiff and creasy. What this littlething is ne'er a body may tell, in my line of life--but look'tharistocratic."

  The "mullock," as he called it, from his hands, and from the bed whereit had lain so long, so crusted the little thing which he gave me, thatI dipped it again in the swelling stream, and rubbed it with both hands,to make out what it was. And then I thought how long it had lain there;and suddenly to my memory it came, that in all likelihood the time ofthat was nineteen years this very day.

  "Will another year pass," I cried, "before I make out all about it? Whatare you, and who, now looking at me with such sad, sad eyes?"

  For I held in my hand a most handsome locket, of blue enamel anddiamonds, with a back of chased gold, and in front the miniature of abeautiful young woman, done as they never seem to do them now. Thework was so good, and the fitting so close, that no drop of water hadentered, and the face shone through the crystal glass as fresh as theday it was painted. A very lovely face it was, yet touched with a shadeof sadness, as the loveliest faces generally are; and the first thoughtof any beholder would be, "That woman was born for sorrow."

  The miller said as much when I showed it to him.

  "Lord bless my heart! I hope the poor craitur' hathn't lasted half solong as her pictur' hath."