CHAPTER XLVIII
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 journeywas. But he led me aside in the course of the evening, and told me allabout it; saying that I knew, as well as he did, that it was not woman'sbusiness. 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, butbecause I always think that women, of whatever mind, are best when leastthey meddle with the things that appertain to men.
Master Stickles complained that the weather had been against himbitterly, 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 fromExeter. When all were told, there was but a battalion of one of theKing's horse regiments, and two companies of foot soldiers; and theircommanders had orders, later than the date of Jeremy's commission, onno account to quit the southern coast, and march inland. Therefore,although they would gladly have come for a brush with the celebratedDoones, it was more than they durst attempt, in the face of theirinstructions. However, they spared him a single trooper, as a companionof the road, and to prove to the justices of the county, and the lordlieutenant, 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 thevery best trained bands. For these trained bands had afforded very goodsoldiers, in the time of the civil wars, and for some years afterwards;but now their discipline was gone; and the younger generation had seenno real fighting. Each would have his own opinion, and would want toargue it; and if he were not allowed, he went about his duty in such atemper as to prove that his own way was the best.
Neither was this the worst of it; for Jeremy made no doubt but what (ifhe 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; butthe truth was that the officers, knowing how hard it would be to collecttheir men at that time of the year, and in that state of the weather,began with one accord to make every possible excuse. And especiallythey pressed this point, that Bagworthy was not in their county; theDevonshire people affirming vehemently that it lay in the shire ofSomerset, and the Somersetshire folk averring, even with imprecations,that it lay in Devonshire. Now I believe the truth to be that theboundary of the two counties, as well as of Oare and Brendon parishes,is defined by the Bagworthy river; so that the disputants on both sideswere 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 theextirpation of this pest, which shamed and injured them both alike. Buthence arose another difficulty; for the men of Devon said they wouldmarch when Somerset had taken the field; and the sons of Somersetreplied that indeed they were quite ready, but what were their cousinsof Devonshire doing? And so it came to pass that the King's Commissionerreturned without any army whatever; but with promise of two hundred menwhen the roads should be more passable. And meanwhile, what were we todo, abandoned as we were to the mercies of the Doones, with only our ownhands to help us? And herein I grieved at my own folly, in having letTom Faggus go, whose wit and courage would have been worth at least halfa dozen men to us. Upon this matter I held long council with my goodfriend Stickles; telling him all about Lorna's presence, and what I knewof her history. He agreed with me that we could not hope to escape anattack from the outlaws, and the more especially now that they knewhimself to be returned to us. Also he praised me for my forethoughtin having threshed out all our corn, and hidden the produce in such amanner that they were not likely to find it. Furthermore, he recommendedthat all the entrances to the house should at once be strengthened,and a watch must be maintained at night; and he thought it wiser thatI should go (late as it was) to Lynmouth, if a horse could pass thevalley, and fetch every one of his mounted troopers, who might now bequartered there. Also if any men of courage, though capable only ofhandling a pitchfork, could be found in the neighbourhood, I was to tryto summon them. But our district is so thinly peopled, that I had littlefaith 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 thehigher road, by Cosgate and through Countisbury; therefore I swam myhorse through the Lynn, at the ford below our house (where sometimes youmay step across), and thence galloped up and along the hills. I couldsee all the inland valleys ribbon'd with broad waters; and in everywinding crook, the banks of snow that fed them; while on my right theturbid sea was flaked with April showers. But when I descended the hilltowards Lynmouth, I feared that my journey was all in vain.
For the East Lynn (which is our river) was ramping and roaringfrightfully, lashing whole trunks of trees on the rocks, and rendingthem, and grinding them. And into it rushed, from the opposite side, atorrent even madder; upsetting what it came to aid; shattering wave withboiling billow, and scattering wrath with fury. It was certain death toattempt the passage: and the little wooden footbridge had been carriedaway long ago. And the men I was seeking must be, of course, on theother 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 hundredyards below; and there had the luck to see Will Watcombe on the oppositeside, 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 lastthat I wanted to cross over. Upon this he fetched another man, and thetwo of them launched a boat; and paddling well out to sea, fetched roundthe mouth of the frantic river. The other man proved to be Stickles'schief mate; and so he went back and fetched his comrades, bringing theirweapons, but leaving their horses behind. As it happened there werebut four of them; however, to have even these was a help; and I startedagain at full speed for my home; for the men must follow afoot, andcross 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 Barrowsmore than two hours before them. But they had done a sagacious thing,which was well worth the delay; for by hoisting their flag upon thehill, they fetched the two watchmen from the Foreland, and added them totheir number.
It was lucky that I came home so soon for I found the house in a greatcommotion, and all the women trembling. When I asked what the matterwas, Lorna, who seemed the most self-possessed, answered that it was allher fault, for she alone had frightened them. And this in the followingmanner. She had stolen out to the garden towards dusk, to watch somefavourite hyacinths just pushing up, like a baby's teeth, and justattracting the fatal notice of a great house-snail at night-time. Lornaat last had discovered the glutton, and was bearing him off in triumphto the tribunal of the ducks, when she descried two glittering eyesglaring at her steadfastly, from the elder-bush beyond the stream.The elder was smoothing its wrinkled leaves, being at least two monthsbehind time; and among them this calm cruel face appeared; and she knewit 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, butonly gaze, as if bewitched. Then Carver Doone, with his deadly smile,gloating upon her horror, lifted his long gun, and pointed full atLorna's heart. In vain she strove to turn away; fright had stricken herstiff as stone. With the inborn love of life, she tried to cover thevital part wherein the winged death must lodge--for she knew Carver'scertain aim--but her hands hung numbed, and heavy; in nothing but hereyes was life.
With no sign of pity in his face, no quiver of relenting, but awell-pleased grin at all the charming palsy of his victim, Carver Doonelowered, inch by inch, the muzzle of his gun. When it pointed to theground, between
her delicate arched insteps, he pulled the trigger,and the bullet flung the mould all over her. It was a refinement ofbullying, 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, couldmake 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; andtrembled, and wondered where I was; and what I would think of this. GoodGod! What could I think of it? She over-rated my slow nature, to admitthe question.
While she leaned there, quite unable yet to save herself, Carver cameto the brink of the flood, which alone was between them; and then hestroked 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 wasnow recovering the power of her nimble limbs; and ready to be off likehope, and wonder at her own cowardice.
'I have spared you this time,' he said, in his deep calm voice, 'onlybecause it suits my plans; and I never yield to temper. But unless youcome back to-morrow, pure, and with all you took away, and teach meto destroy that fool, who has destroyed himself for you, your death ishere, 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; andLorna saw his giant figure striding across the meadow-land, as if theRidds were nobodies, and he the proper owner. Both mother and I weregreatly 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 inthe Isle of Athelney, he had a Ridd along with him.
Now I spoke to Lorna gently, seeing how much she had been tried; andI praised her for her courage, in not having run away, when she was sounable; and my darling was pleased with this, and smiled upon me forsaying it; though she knew right well that, in this matter, my judgmentwas not impartial. But you may take this as a general rule, that a womanlikes praise from the man whom she loves, and cannot stop always tobalance it.
Now expecting a sharp attack that night--when Jeremy Stickles the moreexpected, after the words of Carver, which seemed to be meant to misleadus--we prepared a great quantity of knuckles of pork, and a ham in fullcut, and a fillet of hung mutton. For we would almost surrender ratherthan 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 avery clever one, and then I wondered how on earth it had never occurredto me before. But first she had done a thing which I could not in theleast approve of: for she had gone up to my mother, and thrown herselfinto her arms, and begged to be allowed to return to Glen Doone.
'My child, are you unhappy here?' mother asked her, very gently, for shehad 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 orpeace 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, formy sake alone. Let me go: you must not pay this great price for myhappiness.'
'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 apolitical matter.'
Dear mother was rather proud in her heart, as well as terriblyfrightened, at the importance now accruing to Plover's Barrows farm;and she often declared that it would be as famous in history as the RyeHouse, or the Meal-tub, or even the great black box, in which she was afirm believer: and even my knowledge of politics could not move her uponthat matter. 'Such things had happened before,' she would say, shakingher head with its wisdom, 'and why might they not happen again? Womenwould be women, and men would be men, to the end of the chapter; and ifshe had been in Lucy Water's place, she would keep it quiet, as shehad done'; and then she would look round, for fear, lest either of herdaughters had heard her; 'but now, can you give me any reason, why itmay not have been so? You are so fearfully positive, John: just as menalways are.' 'No,' I used to say; 'I can give you no reason, why it maynot 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 goodproof against it, that what nine men of every ten in England wouldonly too gladly believe, if true, is nevertheless kept dark from them.''There you are again, John,' mother would reply, 'all about men, and nota single word about women. If you had any argument at all, you would ownthat marriage is a question upon which women are the best judges.' 'Oh!'I would groan in my spirit, and go; leaving my dearest mother quitesure, that now at last she must have convinced me. But if mother hadknown that Jeremy Stickles was working against the black box, and itsissue, I doubt whether he would have fared so well, even though he wasa visitor. However, she knew that something was doing and something ofimportance; and she trusted in God for the rest of it. Only she used tetell me, very seriously, of an evening, 'The very least they can giveyou, 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 uponpolitical matters. She came to me, and her eyes alone asked a hundredquestions, which I rather had answered upon her lips than troubled herpretty ears with them. Therefore I told her nothing at all, save thatthe attack (if any should be) would not be made on her account; and thatif she should hear, by any chance, a trifle of a noise in the night, shewas 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 likedmy expression about her eyes, and promised to do the very best she couldand then she crept so very close, that I needs must have her closer; andwith 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 thedepths of radiant love; 'I believe there will be nothing: but what thereis I must see out.'
'Shall I tell you what I think, John? It is only a fancy of mine, andperhaps 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, higherthan ever they were before, and twice as high, you have told me. Ibelieve that Glen Doone is flooded, and all the houses under water.'
'You little witch,' I answered; 'what a fool I must be not to thinkof it! Of course it is: it must be. The torrent from all the Bagworthyforest, and all the valleys above it, and the great drifts in the glenitself, never could have outlet down my famous waterslide. The valleymust be under water twenty feet at least. Well, if ever there was afool, I am he, for not having thought of it.'
'I remember once before,' said Lorna, reckoning on her fingers, 'whenthere was heavy rain, all through the autumn and winter, five or it maybe six years ago, the river came down with such a rush that thewater was two feet deep in our rooms, and we all had to camp by thecliff-edge. But you think that the floods are higher now, I believe Iheard you say, John.'
'I don't think about it, my treasure,' I answered; 'you may trust me forunderstanding floods, after our work at Tiverton. And I know that thedeluge 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 drainedin a few days away! And great barricades of ice still in the riversblocking 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 sheremembered 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 theirhouses and sheltering in the snowdrifts. However, there is one good ofit: they cannot send many men against us, with all this trouble uponthem.'
We sent all the women to bed quite early, except Gwenny Carfax and ourold Betty. These two we allowed to stay up, because they might be usefulto us, if they could keep from quarreling. For my part, I had littlefear, after what Lorna had told me, as to the result of the combat. Itwas not likely that the Doones could bring more than eight or ten menagainst us, while their homes were in such danger: and to meet thesewe had eight good men, including Jeremy, and myself, all well armed andresolute, besides our three farm-servants, and the parish-clerk, and theshoemaker. These five could not be trusted much for any valiant conduct,although they spoke very confidently over their cans of cider. Neitherwere their weapons fitted for much execution, unless it were at closequarters, 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), andthe parish clerk had brought his pitch-pipe, which was enough to breakany man's head. But John Fry, of course, had his blunderbuss, loadedwith tin-tacks and marbles, and more likely to kill the man whodischarged it than any other person: but we knew that John had it onlyfor show, and to describe its qualities.
Now it was my great desire, and my chiefest hope, to come across CarverDoone that night, and settle the score between us; not by any shotin the dark, but by a conflict man to man. As yet, since I came tofull-grown power, I had never met any one whom I could not play teetotumwith: but now at last I had found a man whose strength was not to belaughed at. I could guess it in his face, I could tell it in his arms, Icould see it in his stride and gait, which more than all the rest betraythe substance of a man. And being so well used to wrestling, and tojudge 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 roundswith the troopers; but betook myself to the rick yard, knowing that theDoones were likely to begin their onset there. For they had a pleasantcustom, when they visited farm-houses, of lighting themselves towardspicking up anything they wanted, or stabbing the inhabitants, by firstcreating a blaze in the rick yard. And though our ricks were all now ofmere straw (except indeed two of prime clover-hay), and although onthe top they were so wet that no firebrands might hurt them; I was bothunwilling to have them burned, and fearful that they might kindle, ifwell roused up with fire upon the windward side.
By the bye, these Doones had got the worst of this pleasant trickone time. For happening to fire the ricks of a lonely farm calledYeanworthy, not far above Glenthorne, they approached the house to getpeople's goods, and to enjoy their terror. The master of the farm waslately dead, and had left, inside the clock-case, loaded, the great longgun, wherewith he had used to sport at the ducks and the geese on theshore. Now Widow Fisher took out this gun, and not caring much whatbecame of her (for she had loved her husband dearly), she laid it uponthe window-sill, which looked upon the rick-yard; and she backed up thebutt with a chest of oak drawers, and she opened the window a littleback, and let the muzzle out on the slope. Presently five or six fineyoung Doones came dancing a reel (as their manner was) betwixt her andthe flaming rick. Upon which she pulled the trigger with all the forceof her thumb, and a quarter of a pound of duck-shot went out with ablaze on the dancers. You may suppose what their dancing was, and theirreeling 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 ditchnext day; but the others were set upon their horses, and carried homeon a path of blood. And strange to say, they never avenged this verydreadful injury; but having heard that a woman had fired this desperateshot among them, they said that she ought to be a Doone, and inquiredhow old she was.
Now I had not been so very long waiting in our mow-yard, with my bestgun ready, and a big club by me, before a heaviness of sleep began tocreep upon me. The flow of water was in my ears, and in my eyes a hazyspreading, and upon my brain a closure, as a cobbler sews a vamp up. SoI leaned back in the clover-rick, and the dust of the seed and the smellcame round me, without any trouble; and I dozed about Lorna, just onceor twice, and what she had said about new-mown hay; and then back wentmy 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, evensuch as I would have sworn to an hour ago or less. But if you had beenin the water as I had, ay, and had long fight with it, after a goodday's work, and then great anxiety afterwards, and brain-work (which isnot fair for me), and upon that a stout supper, mayhap you would not beso hard on my sleep; though you felt it your duty to wake me.
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 49
