CHAPTER XXXV
RUTH IS NOT LIKE LORNA
Although by our mother's reluctant consent a large part of the obstaclesbetween Annie and her lover appeared to be removed, on the other handLorna and myself gained little, except as regarded comfort of mind, andsome ease to the conscience. Moreover, our chance of frequent meetingsand delightful converse was much impaired, at least for the present;because though mother was not aware of my narrow escape from CarverDoone, she made me promise never to risk my life by needless visits.And upon this point, that is to say, the necessity of the visit, she waswell content, as she said, to leave me to my own good sense and honour;only begging me always to tell her of my intention beforehand. Thispledge, however, for her own sake, I declined to give; knowing howwretched she would be during all the time of my absence; and, on thataccount, I promised instead, that I would always give her a full accountof my adventure upon returning.
Now my mother, as might be expected, began at once to cast about forsome means of relieving me from all further peril, and herself fromgreat anxiety. She was full of plans for fetching Lorna, in somewonderful manner, out of the power of the Doones entirely, and into herown hands, where she was to remain for at least a twelve-month, learningall mother and Annie could teach her of dairy business, and farm-houselife, and the best mode of packing butter. And all this arose from myhappening to say, without meaning anything, how the poor dear had longedfor quiet, and a life of simplicity, and a rest away from violence!Bless thee, mother--now long in heaven, there is no need to bless thee;but it often makes a dimness now in my well-worn eyes, when I think ofthy loving-kindness, warmth, and romantic innocence.
As to stealing my beloved from that vile Glen Doone, the deed itself wasnot impossible, nor beyond my daring; but in the first place would shecome, leaving her old grandfather to die without her tendence? Andeven if, through fear of Carver and that wicked Counsellor, she shouldconsent to fly, would it be possible to keep her without a regiment ofsoldiers? Would not the Doones at once ride forth to scour the countryfor their queen, and finding her (as they must do), burn our house, andmurder us, and carry her back triumphantly?
All this I laid before my mother, and to such effect that sheacknowledged, with a sigh that nothing else remained for me (in thepresent state of matters) except to keep a careful watch upon Lorna fromsafe distance, observe the policy of the Doones, and wait for a tide intheir affairs. Meanwhile I might even fall in love (as mother unwiselyhinted) with a certain more peaceful heiress, although of inferiorblood, who would be daily at my elbow. I am not sure but what dearmother herself would have been disappointed, had I proved myself sofickle; and my disdain and indignation at the mere suggestion did not somuch displease her; for she only smiled and answered,--
'Well, it is not for me to say; God knows what is good for us. Likingswill not come to order; otherwise I should not be where I am this day.And of one thing I am rather glad; Uncle Reuben well deserves that hispet scheme should miscarry. He who called my boy a coward, an ignoblecoward, because he would not join some crack-brained plan against thevalley which sheltered his beloved one! And all the time this dreadful"coward" risking his life daily there, without a word to any one! Howglad I am that you will not have, for all her miserable money, thatlittle dwarfish granddaughter of the insolent old miser!'
She turned, and by her side was standing poor Ruth Huckaback herself,white, and sad, and looking steadily at my mother's face, which becameas red as a plum while her breath deserted her.
'If you please, madam,' said the little maiden, with her large calm eyesunwavering, 'it is not my fault, but God Almighty's, that I am a littledwarfish creature. I knew not that you regarded me with so much contempton that account; neither have you told my grandfather, at leastwithin my hearing, that he was an insolent old miser. When I return toDulverton, which I trust to do to-morrow (for it is too late to-day),I shall be careful not to tell him your opinion of him, lest I shouldthwart any schemes you may have upon his property. I thank you all foryour kindness to me, which has been very great, far more than a littledwarfish creature could, for her own sake, expect. I will only add foryour further guidance one more little truth. It is by no means certainthat my grandfather will settle any of his miserable money upon me. IfI offend him, as I would in a moment, for the sake of a brave andstraightforward man'--here she gave me a glance which I scarcely knewwhat to do with--'my grandfather, upright as he is, would leave mewithout a shilling. And I often wish it were so. So many miseries comeupon me from the miserable money--' Here she broke down, and burst outcrying, and ran away with a faint good-bye; while we three looked at oneanother, and felt that we had the worst of it.
'Impudent little dwarf!' said my mother, recovering her breath afterever so long. 'Oh, John, how thankful you ought to be! What a life shewould have led you!'
'Well, I am sure!' said Annie, throwing her arms around poor mother:'who could have thought that little atomy had such an outrageous spirit!For my part I cannot think how she can have been sly enough to hide itin that crafty manner, that John might think her an angel!'
'Well, for my part,' I answered, laughing, 'I never admired RuthHuckaback half, or a quarter so much before. She is rare stuff. I wouldhave been glad to have married her to-morrow, if I had never seen myLorna.'
'And a nice nobody I should have been, in my own house!' cried mother:'I never can be thankful enough to darling Lorna for saving me. Did yousee how her eyes flashed?'
'That I did; and very fine they were. Now nine maidens out of ten wouldhave feigned not to have heard one word that was said, and have borneblack malice in their hearts. Come, Annie, now, would not you have doneso?'
'I think,' said Annie, 'although of course I cannot tell, you know,John, that I should have been ashamed at hearing what was never meantfor me, and should have been almost as angry with myself as anybody.'
'So you would,' replied my mother; 'so any daughter of mine would havedone, instead of railing and reviling. However, I am very sorry that anywords of mine which the poor little thing chose to overhear should havemade her so forget herself. I shall beg her pardon before she goes, andI shall expect her to beg mine.'
'That she will never do,' said I; 'a more resolute little maiden neveryet had right upon her side; although it was a mere accident. I mighthave said the same thing myself, and she was hard upon you, motherdear.'
After this, we said no more, at least about that matter; and littleRuth, the next morning, left us, in spite of all that we could do. Shevowed an everlasting friendship to my younger sister Eliza; but shelooked at Annie with some resentment, when they said good-bye, for beingso much taller. At any rate so Annie fancied, but she may have beenquite wrong. I rode beside the little maid till far beyond Exeford, whenall danger of the moor was past, and then I left her with John Fry, notwishing to be too particular, after all the talk about her money. Shehad tears in her eyes when she bade me farewell, and she sent a kindmessage home to mother, and promised to come again at Christmas, if shecould win permission.
Upon the whole, my opinion was that she had behaved uncommonly well fora maid whose self-love was outraged, with spirit, I mean, and properpride; and yet with a great endeavour to forgive, which is, meseems, thehardest of all things to a woman, outside of her own family.
After this, for another month, nothing worthy of notice happened, exceptof course that I found it needful, according to the strictest good senseand honour, to visit Lorna immediately after my discourse with mother,and to tell her all about it. My beauty gave me one sweet kiss with allher heart (as she always did, when she kissed at all), and I begged forone more to take to our mother, and before leaving, I obtained it. Itis not for me to tell all she said, even supposing (what is not likely)that any one cared to know it, being more and more peculiar to ourselvesand no one else. But one thing that she said was this, and I took goodcare to carry it, word for word, to my mother and Annie:--
'I never can believe, dear John, that after all the crime and outragewrought
by my reckless family, it ever can be meant for me to settledown to peace and comfort in a simple household. With all my heart Ilong for home; any home, however dull and wearisome to those used toit, would seem a paradise to me, if only free from brawl and tumult,and such as I could call my own. But even if God would allow me this, inlieu of my wild inheritance, it is quite certain that the Doones nevercan and never will.'
Again, when I told her how my mother and Annie, as well as myself,longed to have her at Plover's Barrows, and teach her all the quietduties in which she was sure to take such delight, she only answeredwith a bright blush, that while her grandfather was living she wouldnever leave him; and that even if she were free, certain ruin was allshe should bring to any house that received her, at least within theutmost reach of her amiable family. This was too plain to be denied,and seeing my dejection at it, she told me bravely that we must hope forbetter times, if possible, and asked how long I would wait for her.
'Not a day if I had my will,' I answered very warmly; at which sheturned away confused, and would not look at me for awhile; 'but all mylife,' I went on to say, 'if my fortune is so ill. And how long wouldyou wait for me, Lorna?'
'Till I could get you,' she answered slyly, with a smile whichwas brighter to me than the brightest wit could be. 'And now,' shecontinued, 'you bound me, John, with a very beautiful ring to you, andwhen I dare not wear it, I carry it always on my heart. But I will bindyou to me, you dearest, with the very poorest and plainest thing thatever you set eyes on. I could give you fifty fairer ones, but they wouldnot be honest; and I love you for your honesty, and nothing else ofcourse, John; so don't you be conceited. Look at it, what a queerold thing! There are some ancient marks upon it, very grotesque andwonderful; it looks like a cat in a tree almost, but never mind what itlooks like. This old ring must have been a giant's; therefore it willfit you perhaps, you enormous John. It has been on the front of my oldglass necklace (which my grandfather found them taking away, and verysoon made them give back again) ever since I can remember; and longbefore that, as some woman told me. Now you seem very greatly amazed;pray what thinks my lord of it?'
'That is worth fifty of the pearl thing which I gave you, you darling;and that I will not take it from you.'
'Then you will never take me, that is all. I will have nothing to dowith a gentleman'--
'No gentleman, dear--a yeoman.'
'Very well, a yeoman--nothing to do with a yeoman who will not accept mylove-gage. So, if you please, give it back again, and take your lovelyring back.'
She looked at me in such a manner, half in earnest, half in jest, andthree times three in love, that in spite of all good resolutions, andher own faint protest, I was forced to abandon all firm ideas, and kissher till she was quite ashamed, and her head hung on my bosom, with thenight of her hair shed over me. Then I placed the pearl ring back on thesoft elastic bend of the finger she held up to scold me; and on my ownsmallest finger drew the heavy hoop she had given me. I considered thiswith satisfaction, until my darling recovered herself; and then I beganvery gravely about it, to keep her (if I could) from chiding me:--
'Mistress Lorna, this is not the ring of any giant. It is nothing morenor less than a very ancient thumb-ring, such as once in my father'stime was ploughed up out of the ground in our farm, and sent to learneddoctors, who told us all about it, but kept the ring for their trouble.I will accept it, my own one love; and it shall go to my grave withme.' And so it shall, unless there be villains who would dare to rob thedead.
Now I have spoken about this ring (though I scarcely meant to do so,and would rather keep to myself things so very holy) because it holds animportant part in the history of my Lorna. I asked her where the glassnecklace was from which the ring was fastened, and which she had wornin her childhood, and she answered that she hardly knew, but rememberedthat her grandfather had begged her to give it up to him, when she wasten years old or so, and had promised to keep it for her until shecould take care of it; at the same time giving her back the ring, andfastening it from her pretty neck, and telling her to be proud of it.And so she always had been, and now from her sweet breast she took it,and it became John Ridd's delight.
All this, or at least great part of it, I told my mother truly,according to my promise; and she was greatly pleased with Lorna forhaving been so good to me, and for speaking so very sensibly; and thenshe looked at the great gold ring, but could by no means interpret it.Only she was quite certain, as indeed I myself was, that it must havebelonged to an ancient race of great consideration, and high rank,in their time. Upon which I was for taking it off, lest it should bedegraded by a common farmer's finger. But mother said 'No,' with tearsin her eyes; 'if the common farmer had won the great lady of the ancientrace, what were rings and old-world trinkets, when compared to theliving jewel?' Being quite of her opinion in this, and loving the ring(which had no gem in it) as the token of my priceless gem, I resolved towear it at any cost, except when I should be ploughing, or doing thingslikely to break it; although I must own that it felt very queer (for Inever had throttled a finger before), and it looked very queer, for alength of time, upon my great hard-working hand.
And before I got used to my ring, or people could think that it belongedto me (plain and ungarnished though it was), and before I went to seeLorna again, having failed to find any necessity, and remembering myduty to mother, we all had something else to think of, not so pleasant,and more puzzling.
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 36
