*CHAPTER XIV*
*IN THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND*
It was too dark to see the injured part, but from the increasingpressure on the edge of my shoe I knew my foot was swelling. Soon thepain of the pressure became intolerable, and with an effort I leanedover and undid the lace. This gave me some relief, but when I tried toremove the shoe the pain compelled me to desist. But, taking courage, Imade trial once more and succeeded at last in getting it off. Then Iremoved my sock. Very gently I passed a hand over the injured part. Icould feel that it was greatly swollen. My foot lay at an angle whichled me to think that one or other of the bones of my leg had beenbroken. My heel dropped backwards, and the inner edge of my foot wastwisted outward. If I kept the limb at rest the pain was tolerable; ifI moved it the agony was more than I could support. The falling rainupon it was like a cooling balm, and gave me relief, but as I satthere--sodden, helpless--alone amid the desolation of that vastmoorland, I was overwhelmed by a sense of my misfortune. Twice alreadyhad I escaped from the troopers' hands, and now, unless succour, whichseemed outside the range of hope, should come to me, I was doomed to alingering death.
I prayed for the dawn to break, and then I realised that dawn couldbring me no hope, and I ceased to care whether it were light or dark.But the dawn came nevertheless, and with it a wind that swept therain-clouds out of the sky. I tore up some tufts of heather and made asoft couch upon which to rest my injured limb; then, wet though I wasand cold, I lay down and ere long had fallen asleep. I know not howlong I slept, but when I woke my head was on fire and I was aching inevery limb. My tongue was parched like a piece of leather and I wastortured by a burning thirst, so that I was fain to pluck the grass andheather that lay within my reach and suck from them the scanty drops ofmoisture that still clung to them. To add to my distress, I was seizedwith a violent shivering which shook my whole body and caused my injuredlimb to send stabbing darts of pain all through my being. I laid a handupon my forehead and found that it was burning hot, and I knew that Iwas in the grip of some deadly fever. I called for help in myextremity, but my voice was weak as a child's and the only reply thatcame to me was the cry of a startled whaup. Well, what did it matter ifI had to die? Surely it were better to be freed by a speedy death, thanto lie there a helpless log until I should die of starvation.
I closed my eyes again and drifted into a dreamy state of partialcomfort, from which I was awakened by a violent pain in my right side.My breathing had become difficult. Every movement of my chest wastorment, and, to add to my miseries, I began to cough. I opened my eyesand looked into the depths of the sky as though to summon help out ofthe infinite; but all I could see was a pair of carrion crows that werecircling above me, waiting, I had little doubt, for the moment when thebreath should leave my body and their foul feasting could begin.
So this was to be the end of it--a week or two, and all that would beleft would be a heap of bones, bleaching in the wind and rain of thatvast moor.
I closed my eyes again, and drifted once more into a pleasant state ofdrowsiness, and suddenly I was my own man again, strong and sound inlimb as I had ever been: free from pain, and without a care in theworld. I was walking gaily along a road that stretched before me intoinfinite distance. Birds were singing around me and in the sweet air ofthe morning there was the scent of hedgerow flowers. Far off, near thesummit of the hill where the road seemed to end, a woman was waiting forme. She was beckoning to me to make haste, and though I hurriedfleet-foot towards her, she remained as far away as ever. The woman wasMary. Try as I might, I could not reach her. Then a miracle happened:she came towards me. A radiant welcome shone in her face: her arms wereoutstretched I called to her and held out eager hands towards her: butshe drifted past me, and was gone, and, heavy at heart, I fell back, asodden, tortured thing, on the cold wet moors. My eyes opened. Thecarrion crows still circled above me: but not for long.
Once more I was on a journey, moving, a formless mass, beneath a leadensky with no moon or sun or stars to guide me; myself a part of thedarkness that surrounded me. In this strange world in which I foundmyself there were other formless shapes like my own, each driftingnoiselessly and without contact through infinite leagues of space. Themass that was me was not me. It was separate from me, yet indissolublyunited to me. I was perplexed. Was I the mass or was the mass someother being? I had no being of my own apart from the mass, and yet themass was not me. Where was I?--What was I?--Who was I? I had no pain,no hands or feet, no torturing thirst, no fever-racked body. Was Idisembodied? If so, what was I now? In agony of mind, I, who had nomind, struggled to puzzle the problem out; and then, suddenly, the greymass that had perplexed me rolled from my sight, and I found myself oncemore lying upon the moor in pain, alone. The sky above me was sprinkledwith stars; night had come again: the day had brought me no succour.
If I lay here any longer, surely the troopers would find me. I must upand on. It seemed to me that a great hand came out of the sky andblotted out my pain as someone might blot out an error upon a child'sslate. I was strong again. I sprang to my feet. My limb was sound oncemore. I ran across the moor like a hind let loose and in the darkness Istepped over a precipice and fell unendingly down. The minutes passed,and I saw them gather themselves into little heaps of hours that stoodlike cairns of stone on the top of the precipice. The hours piledthemselves into days and the days into weeks, till the top of theprecipice was covered with stones, and still I was falling throughunending space. Some time--I know not when--I must have come to thebottom of the precipice. I felt no crash, but the heaped-up cairns ofthe minutes and hours and days disappeared from my sight, and I ceasedto know anything. I cannot tell how long this deep oblivion lasted.Once only did I wake from it partially. I felt a twinge of pain asthough someone had moved me, and then all was dark again.
Flower o' the Heather: A Story of the Killing Times Page 14
