Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER XLVII

  JEREMY IN DANGER

  Nothing very long abides, as the greatest of all writers (in whoseextent I am for ever lost in raptured wonder, and yet for ever quite athome, as if his heart were mine, although his brains so different), in aword as Mr. William Shakespeare, in every one of his works insists, witha humoured melancholy. And if my journey to London led to nothing elseof advancement, it took me a hundred years in front of what I might elsehave 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 notknowing what might come down upon me, quickened my step for the nearestcorner. But suddenly something fell on my head; and at first I wasafraid to look, especially as it weighed heavily. But hearing nobreakage of ware, and only the other scold laughing heartily, I turnedme about and espied a book, which one had cast at the other, hoping tobreak her window. So I took the book, and tendered it at the door of thehouse 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 tomake mischief; and I said, 'Good sir, now take the book; I will go onto my business.' But he answered that he would do no such thing; forthe book alone, being hurled so hard, would convict his people of a lewdassault; and he begged me, if I would do a good turn, to put the bookunder my coat and go. And so I did: in part at least. For I did not putthe book under my coat, but went along with it openly, looking for anyto challenge it. Now this book, so acquired, has been not only thejoy of my younger days, and main delight of my manhood, but also thecomfort, and even the hope, of my now declining years. In a word, it isnext to my Bible to me, and written in equal English; and if you espyany goodness whatever in my own loose style of writing, you must notthank me, John Ridd, for it, but the writer who holds the champion'sbelt in wit, as I once did in wrestling.

  Now, as nothing very long abides, it cannot be expected that a woman'sanger should last very long, if she be at all of the proper sort. Andmy mother, being one of the very best, could not long retain her wrathagainst the Squire Faggus especially when she came to reflect, uponAnnie's suggestion, how natural, and one might say, how inevitableit was that a young man fond of adventure and change and winning goodprofits by jeopardy, should not settle down without some regrets to afixed abode and a life of sameness, however safe and respectable.And even as Annie put the case, Tom deserved the greater credit forvanquishing so nobly these yearnings of his nature; and it seemed veryhard to upbraid him, considering how good his motives were; neithercould Annie understand how mother could reconcile it with her knowledgeof the Bible, and the one sheep that was lost, and the hundredth pieceof silver, and the man that went down to Jericho.

  Whether Annie's logic was good and sound, I am sure I cannot tell; butit 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; andTom was replaced, and more than that, being regarded now as an injuredman. But how my mother contrived to know, that because she had been toohard upon Tom, he must be right about the necklace, is a point which Inever could clearly perceive, though no doubt she could explain it.

  To prove herself right in the conclusion, she went herself to fetchLorna, that the trinket might be examined, before the day grew dark. Mydarling came in, with a very quick glance and smile at my cigarro (for Iwas having the third by this time, to keep things in amity); and I wavedit towards her, as much as to say, 'you see that I can do it.' And thenmother 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 whitehyacinth; and I was vexed that Tom should have the chance to see itthere. But even if she had read my thoughts, or outrun them with herown, Lorna turned away, and softly took the jewels from the place whichso much adorned them. And as she turned away, they sparkled throughthe rich dark waves of hair. Then she laid the glittering circlet inmy mother's hands; and Tom Faggus took it eagerly, and bore it to thewindow.

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

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

  'I am not accustomed to sell things, sir,' replied Lorna, who did notlike him much, else she would have answered sportively, 'What is itworth, 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 verybright, 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 makemy 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 mymother.'

  'There are twenty-five rose diamonds in it, and twenty-five largebrilliants that cannot be matched in London. How say you, MistressLorna, to a hundred thousand pounds?'

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

  'Dear kind mother, I am so glad,' she said in a whisper, coaxing motherout of sight of all but me; 'now you will have it, won't you, dear? AndI shall be so happy; for a thousandth part of your kindness to me nojewels in the world can match.'

  I cannot lay before you the grace with which she did it, all the airof seeking favour, rather than conferring it, and the high-bred fear ofgiving offence, which is of all fears the noblest. Mother knew not whatto 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, motherdid, 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 Icame back, quite eager to let my love know how I worshipped her, andhow deeply I was ashamed of myself, for meanly wronging her in my heart,behold Tom Faggus had gotten again the necklace which had such charmsfor him, and was delivering all around (but especially to Annie, who waswondering at his learning) a dissertation on precious stones, and hissentiments about those in his hand. He said that the work was veryancient, but undoubtedly very good; the cutting of every line wastrue, and every angle was in its place. And this he said, made all thedifference in the lustre of the stone, and therefore in its value. Forif the facets were ill-matched, and the points of light so ever littleout of perfect harmony, all the lustre of the jewel would be looseand wavering, and the central fire dulled; instead of answering, as itshould, to all possibilities of gaze, and overpowering any eye intent onits deeper mysteries. We laughed at the Squire's dissertation for howshould he know all these things, being nothing better, and indeed muchworse than a mere Northmolton blacksmith? He took our laughter with muchgood nature; having Annie to squeeze his hand and convey her grief atour ignorance: but he said that of one thing he was quite certain, andtherein I believed him. To wit, that a trinket of this kind never couldhave belonged to any ignoble family, but to one of the very highest andmost wealthy in England. And looking at Lorna, I felt that she must havecome from a higher source than the very best of diamonds.

  Tom Faggus said that the necklace was made, he would answer for it, inAmsterdam, two or three hundred years ago, long be
fore London jewellershad begun to meddle with diamonds; and on the gold clasp he found someletters, 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. Andthereupon 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 onceto go and do it for himself. But instead of that she rose to do it witha soft humility, which went direct to the heart of Tom; and he leaped upwith a curse at himself, and took the hot water from her, and would notallow her to do anything except to put the sugar in; and then he bowedto her grandly. I knew what Lorna was thinking of; she was thinking allthe time that her necklace had been taken by the Doones with violenceupon some great robbery; and that Squire Faggus knew it, though he wouldnot show his knowledge; and that this was perhaps the reason why motherhad refused it so.

  We said no more about the necklace for a long time afterwards; neitherdid my darling wear it, now that she knew its value, but did not knowits 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 ofit again, as I once had done before, and not even to let her know inwhat place I stored it. I told her that this last request I could notcomply with; for having been round her neck so often, it was now asacred thing, more than a million pounds could be. Therefore it shoulddwell for the present in the neighbourhood of my heart; and so could notbe far from her. At this she smiled her own sweet smile, and touchedmy forehead with her lips, and wished that she could only learn how todeserve 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 wasa thoroughly upright man, according to his own standard; and you mightrely upon him always, up to a certain point I mean, to be there orthereabouts. But sometimes things were too many for Tom, especially withardent spirits, and then he judged, perhaps too much, with only himselffor the jury. At any rate, I would trust him fully, for candour andfor honesty, in almost every case in which he himself could have nointerest. 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 (forshe always made a point of crying upon his departure), when in cameMaster Jeremy Stickles, splashed with mud from head to foot, and not inthe very best of humours, though happy to get back again.

  'Curse those fellows!' he cried, with a stamp which sent the waterhissing from his boot upon the embers; 'a pretty plight you may callthis, for His Majesty's Commissioner to return to his headquarters in!Annie, my dear,' for he was always very affable with Annie, 'will youhelp me off with my overalls, and then turn your pretty hand to thegridiron? Not a blessed morsel have I touched for more than twenty-fourhours.'

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

  'Master Stickles must be used to it; for he never comes back withouttelling us that.'

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

  'Oh, deer's meat, by all means,' Jeremy Stickles answered; 'I havetasted none since I left you, though dreaming of it often. Well, thisis better than being chased over the moors for one's life, John. All theway from Landacre Bridge, I have ridden a race for my precious life, atthe 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 overtakenme. Just go and see to my horse, John, that's an excellent lad. Hedeserves 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: andin truth the horse required care; he was blown so that he could hardlystand, and plastered with mud, and steaming so that the stable wasquite full with it. By the time I had put the poor fellow to rights, hismaster had finished dinner, and was in a more pleasant humour, havingeven offered to kiss Annie, out of pure gratitude, as he said; but Annieanswered with spirit that gratitude must not be shown by increasing theobligation. Jeremy made reply to this that his only way to be gratefulthen was to tell us his story: and so he did, at greater length thanI can here repeat it; for it does not bear particularly upon Lorna'sfortunes.

  It appears that as he was riding towards us from the town of Southmoltonin Devonshire, he found the roads very soft and heavy, and the floodsout in all directions; but met with no other difficulty until he came toLandacre Bridge. He had only a single trooper with him, a man not of themilitia but of the King's army, whom Jeremy had brought from Exeter.As these two descended towards the bridge they observed that both theKensford water and the River Barle were pouring down in mighty floodsfrom the melting of the snow. So great indeed was the torrent, afterthey united, that only the parapets of the bridge could be seen abovethe water, the road across either bank being covered and very deep onthe hither side. The trooper did not like the look of it, and proposedto ride back again, and round by way of Simonsbath, where the stream issmaller. 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 kneesperhaps. On the crown of the bridge he turned his horse to watch thetrooper's passage, and to help him with directions; when suddenly he sawhim fall headlong into the torrent, and heard the report of a gun frombehind, and felt a shock to his own body, such as lifted him out ofthe saddle. Turning round he beheld three men, risen up from behind thehedge 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. ThenJeremy did a gallant thing, for which I doubt whether I should have hadthe presence of mind in danger. He saw that to swim his horse back againwould be almost certain death; as affording such a target, where evena wound must be fatal. Therefore he struck the spurs into the nag, androde through the water straight at the man who was pointing the long gunat him. If the horse had been carried off his legs, there must have beenan end of Jeremy; for the other men were getting ready to have anothershot at him. But luckily the horse galloped right on without any needfor swimming, being himself excited, no doubt, by all he had seen andheard of it. And Jeremy lay almost flat on his neck, so as to givelittle 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 hisflint was, he would have shot the horse at once, and then had Sticklesat his mercy; but instead of that he let fly at the man, and missed himaltogether, being scared perhaps by the pistol which Jeremy showed himthe mouth of. And galloping by at full speed, Master Stickles tried toleave his mark behind him, for he changed the aim of his pistol to thebiggest man, who was loading his gun and cursing like ten cannons. Butthe pistol missed fire, no doubt from the flood which had gurgled inover the holsters; and Jeremy seeing three horses tethered at a gatejust up the hill, knew that he had not yet escaped, but had more ofdanger behind him. He tried his other great pistol at one of thehorses tethered there, so as to lessen (if possible) the number of hispursuers. But the powder again failed him; and he durst not stop to cutthe bridles, bearing the men coming up the hill. So he even made themost of his start, thanking God that his weight was light, compared atleast 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, andthe scarcity of fodder. 'If they do not catch me up, or shoot me, in thecourse of the first two miles, I may see my home again'; this was whathe said to himself as he turned to mark what
they were about, fromthe brow of the steep hill. He saw the flooded valley shining with thebreadth of water, and the trooper's horse on the other side, shakinghis drenched flanks and neighing; and half-way down the hill he saw thethree Doones mounting hastily. And then he knew that his only chance layin the stoutness of his steed.

  The horse was in pretty good condition and the rider knew himthoroughly, and how to make the most of him; and though they hadtravelled some miles that day through very heavy ground, the bath inthe river had washed the mud off, and been some refreshment. ThereforeStickles encouraged his nag, and put him into a good hard gallop,heading away towards Withycombe. At first he had thought of turning tothe 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 himagainst the Doones, so he resolved to go on his way; yet faster than hehad 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 erelong, 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 andsnow, the poor horse had terrible work of it, with no time to pick theway; and even more good luck than skill was needed to keep him fromfoundering. How Jeremy prayed for an Exmoor fog (such as he had oftensworn at), that he might turn aside and lurk, while his pursuers wentpast him! But no fog came, nor even a storm to damp the priming of theirguns; neither was wood or coppice nigh, nor any place to hide in; onlyhills, and moor, and valleys; with flying shadows over them, and greatbanks of snow in the corners. At one time poor Stickles was quite indespair; for after leaping a little brook which crosses the track atNewland, 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 spirtingover him. And Jeremy, struggling with all his might, saw the threevillains now topping the crest, less than a furlong behind him; andheard them shout in their savage delight. With the calmness of despair,he yet resolved to have one more try for it; and scrambling over thehorse's head, gained firm land, and tugged at the bridle. The poor nagreplied with all his power to the call upon his courage, and reared hisforefeet 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 hisquagmired haunches. One more spring, and he was on earth again, insteadof being under it; and Jeremy leaped on his back, and stooped, for heknew 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 tothe Exe, and the pursuers had fallen behind him. The Exe, though a muchsmaller stream than the Barle, now ran in a foaming torrent, unbridged,and too wide for leaping. But Jeremy's horse took the water well; andboth he and his rider were lightened, as well as comforted by it. And asthey passed towards Lucott hill, and struck upon the founts of Lynn,the horses of the three pursuers began to tire under them. Then JeremyStickles knew that if he could only escape the sloughs, he was safe forthe present; and so he stood up in his stirrups, and gave them a loudhalloo, as if they had been so many foxes.

  Their only answer was to fire the remaining charge at him; but thedistance was too great for any aim from horseback; and the droppingbullet idly ploughed the sod upon one side of him. He acknowledged itwith a wave of his hat, and laid one thumb to his nose, in the mannerfashionable in London for expression of contempt. However, they followedhim yet farther; hoping to make him pay out dearly, if he should onlymiss the track, or fall upon morasses. But the neighbourhood of our Lynnstream is not so very boggy; and the King's messenger now knew hisway as well as any of his pursuers did; and so he arrived at Plover'sBarrows, thankful, and in rare appetite.

  'But was the poor soldier drowned?' asked Annie; 'and you never went tolook 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 yoursaddle? 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. Youare apt, I perceive, at romances. But I happened to have a little flatbottle of the best stoneware slung beneath my saddle-cloak, and filledwith 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, whata brave spirit they have spilled!'

  'You had better set to and thank God,' said I, 'that they have notspilled a braver one.'