Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor

by R. D. Blackmore

  CHAPTER LVIII

  MASTER HUCKABACK'S SECRET

  Knowing Master Huckaback to be a man of his word, as well as one whowould have others so, I was careful to be in good time the next morning,by the side of the Wizard's Slough. I am free to admit that the name ofthe place bore a feeling of uneasiness, and a love of distance, in somemeasure to my heart. But I did my best not to think of this; only Ithought it a wise precaution, and due for the sake of my mother andLorna, to load my gun with a dozen slugs made from the lead of the oldchurch-porch, laid by, long since, against witchcraft.

  I am well aware that some people now begin to doubt about witchcraft; orat any rate feign to do so; being desirous to disbelieve whatever theyare afraid of. This spirit is growing too common among us, and will end(unless we put a stop to it!) in the destruction of all religion. Andas regards witchcraft, a man is bound either to believe in it, or todisbelieve the Bible. For even in the New Testament, discarding manythings of the Old, such as sacrifices, and Sabbath, and fasting, andother miseries, witchcraft is clearly spoken of as a thing thatmust continue; that the Evil One be not utterly robbed of his vestedinterests. Hence let no one tell me that witchcraft is done away with;for I will meet him with St. Paul, than whom no better man, and few lesssuperstitious, can be found in all the Bible.

  Feeling these things more in those days than I feel them now, I fetcheda goodish compass round, by the way of the cloven rocks, rather thancross Black Barrow Down, in a reckless and unholy manner. There wereseveral spots, upon that Down, cursed and smitten, and blasted, as ifthunderbolts had fallen there, and Satan sat to keep them warm. At anyrate it was good (as every one acknowledged) not to wander there toomuch; even with a doctor of divinity on one arm and of medicine upon theother.

  Therefore, I, being all alone, and on foot (as seemed the wisest),preferred a course of roundabout; and starting about eight o'clock,without mentioning my business, arrived at the mouth of the deepdescent, such as John Fry described it. Now this (though I have notspoken of it) was not my first time of being there. For, although Icould not bring myself to spy upon Uncle Reuben, as John Fry had done,yet I thought it no ill manners, after he had left our house, to have alook at the famous place, where the malefactor came to life, at leastin John's opinion. At that time, however, I saw nothing except the greatugly black morass, with the grisly reeds around it; and I did not careto go very near it, much less to pry on the further side.

  Now, on the other hand, I was bent to get at the very bottom of thismystery (if there were any), having less fear of witch or wizard, witha man of Uncle Reuben's wealth to take my part, and see me through. SoI rattled the ramrod down my gun, just to know if the charge were right,after so much walking; and finding it full six inches deep, as I like tohave it, went boldly down the steep gorge of rock, with a firm resolveto shoot any witch unless it were good Mother Melldrum. Nevertheless tomy surprise, all was quiet, and fair to look at, in the decline ofthe narrow way, with great stalked ferns coming forth like trees, yethanging like cobwebs over one. And along one side, a little spring wasgetting rid of its waters. Any man might stop and think; or he mightgo on and think; and in either case, there was none to say that he wasmaking a fool of himself.

  When I came to the foot of this ravine, and over against the great blackslough, there was no sign of Master Huckaback, nor of any other livingman, except myself, in the silence. Therefore, I sat in a niche of rock,gazing at the slough, and pondering the old tradition about it.

  They say that, in the ancient times, a mighty necromancer lived in thewilderness of Exmoor. Here, by spell and incantation, he built himselfa strong high palace, eight-sided like a spider's web, and standing ona central steep; so that neither man nor beast could cross the moorswithout his knowledge. If he wished to rob and slay a traveller, or tohave wild ox, or stag for food, he had nothing more to do than sit atone of his eight windows, and point his unholy book at him. Any movingcreature, at which that book was pointed, must obey the call, and comefrom whatever distance, if sighted once by the wizard.

  This was a bad condition of things, and all the country groaned underit; and Exmoor (although the most honest place that a man could wishto live in) was beginning to get a bad reputation, and all through thatvile wizard. No man durst even go to steal a sheep, or a pony, or somuch as a deer for dinner, lest he should be brought to book by a farbigger rogue than he was. And this went on for many years; though theyprayed to God to abate it. But at last, when the wizard was getting fatand haughty upon his high stomach, a mighty deliverance came to Exmoor,and a warning, and a memory. For one day the sorcerer gazed from hiswindow facing the southeast of the compass, and he yawned, having killedso many men that now he was weary of it.

  'Ifackins,' he cried, or some such oath, both profane and uncomely,'I see a man on the verge of the sky-line, going along laboriously. Apilgrim, I trow, or some such fool, with the nails of his boots insidethem. Too thin to be worth eating; but I will have him for the fun ofthe thing; and most of those saints have got money.'

  With these words he stretched forth his legs on a stool, and pointedthe book of heathenish spells back upwards at the pilgrim. Now this goodpilgrim was plodding along, soberly and religiously, with a pound offlints in either boot, and not an ounce of meat inside him. He felt thespell of the wicked book, but only as a horse might feel a 'gee-wug!'addressed to him. It was in the power of this good man, either to goon, or turn aside, and see out the wizard's meaning. And for a moment hehalted and stood, like one in two minds about a thing. Then the wizardclapped one cover to, in a jocular and insulting manner; and the soundof it came to the pilgrim's ear, about five miles in the distance, likea great gun fired at him.

  'By our Lady,' he cried, 'I must see to this; although my poor feet haveno skin below them. I will teach this heathen miscreant how to scoff atGlastonbury.'

  Thereupon he turned his course, and ploughed along through the moorsand bogs, towards the eight-sided palace. The wizard sat on his chair ofcomfort, and with the rankest contempt observed the holy man ploughingtowards him. 'He has something good in his wallet, I trow,' said theblack thief to himself; 'these fellows get always the pick of the wine,and the best of a woman's money.' Then he cried, 'Come in, come in, goodsir,' as he always did to every one.

  'Bad sir, I will not come in,' said the pilgrim; 'neither shall you comeout again. Here are the bones of all you have slain; and here shall yourown bones be.'

  'Hurry me not,' cried the sorcerer; 'that is a thing to think about. Howmany miles hast thou travelled this day?'

  But the pilgrim was too wide awake, for if he had spoken of any number,bearing no cross upon it, the necromancer would have had him, like aball at bando-play. Therefore he answered, as truly as need be, 'By thegrace of our Lady, nine.'

  Now nine is the crossest of all cross numbers, and full to the lip ofall crochets. So the wizard staggered back, and thought, and inquiredagain with bravery, 'Where can you find a man and wife, one goingup-hill and one going down, and not a word spoken between them?'

  'In a cucumber plant,' said the modest saint; blushing even to think ofit; and the wizard knew he was done for.

  'You have tried me with ungodly questions,' continued the honestpilgrim, with one hand still over his eyes, as he thought of thefeminine cucumber; 'and now I will ask you a pure one. To whom ofmankind have you ever done good, since God saw fit to make you?'

  The wizard thought, but could quote no one; and he looked at the saint,and the saint at him, and both their hearts were trembling. 'Can youmention only one?' asked the saint, pointing a piece of the true crossat him, hoping he might cling to it; 'even a little child will do; tryto think of some one.'

  The earth was rocking beneath their feet, and the palace windowsdarkened on them, with a tint of blood, for now the saint was comeinside, hoping to save the wizard.

  'If I must tell the pure truth,' said the wizard, looking up at thearches of his windows, 'I can tell of only one to whom I ever have donegood.'

  'One w
ill do; one is quite enough; be quick before the ground opens. Thename of one--and this cross will save you. Lay your thumb on the end ofit.'

  'Nay, that I cannot do, great saint. The devil have mercy upon me.'

  All this while the palace was sinking, and blackness coming over them.

  'Thou hast all but done for thyself,' said the saint, with a gloryburning round his head; 'by that last invocation. Yet give us the nameof the one, my friend, if one there be; it will save thee, with thecross upon thy breast. All is crashing round us; dear brother, who isthat one?'

  'My own self,' cried the wretched wizard.

  'Then there is no help for thee.' And with that the honest saint wentupward, and the wizard, and all his palace, and even the crag that boreit, sank to the bowels of the earth; and over them was nothing leftexcept a black bog fringed with reed, of the tint of the wizard'swhiskers. The saint, however, was all right, after sleeping off theexcitement; and he founded a chapel, some three miles westward; andthere he lies with his holy relic and thither in after ages came (aswe all come home at last) both my Lorna's Aunt Sabina, and her guardianEnsor Doone.

  While yet I dwelled upon this strange story, wondering if it all weretrue, and why such things do not happen now, a man on horseback appearedas suddenly as if he had risen out of the earth, on the other side ofthe great black slough. At first I was a little scared, my mind beingin the tune for wonders; but presently the white hair, whiter from theblackness of the bog between us, showed me that it was Uncle Reuben cometo look for me, that way. Then I left my chair of rock, and waved my hatand shouted to him, and the sound of my voice among the crags and lonelycorners frightened me.

  Old Master Huckaback made no answer, but (so far as I could guess)beckoned me to come to him. There was just room between the fringe ofreed and the belt of rock around it, for a man going very carefully toescape that horrible pit-hole. And so I went round to the other side,and there found open space enough, with stunted bushes, and starvelingtrees, and straggling tufts of rushes.

  'You fool, you are frightened,' said Uncle Ben, as he looked at my faceafter shaking hands: 'I want a young man of steadfast courage, as wellas of strength and silence. And after what I heard of the battle at GlenDoone, I thought I might trust you for courage.'

  'So you may,' said I, 'wherever I see mine enemy; but not where witchand wizard be.'

  'Tush, great fool!' cried Master Huckaback; 'the only witch or wizardhere is the one that bewitcheth all men. Now fasten up my horse, JohnRidd, and not too near the slough, lad. Ah, we have chosen our entrancewisely. Two good horsemen, and their horses, coming hither to spy usout, are gone mining on their own account (and their last account it is)down this good wizard's bog-hole.'

  With these words, Uncle Reuben clutched the mane of his horse and camedown, as a man does when his legs are old; and as I myself begin to do,at this time of writing. I offered a hand, but he was vexed, and wouldhave nought to do with it.

  'Now follow me, step for step,' he said, when I had tethered his horseto a tree; 'the ground is not death (like the wizard's hole), but manyparts are treacherous, I know it well by this time.'

  Without any more ado, he led me in and out the marshy places, to a greatround hole or shaft, bratticed up with timber. I never had seen the likebefore, and wondered how they could want a well, with so much water onevery side. Around the mouth were a few little heaps of stuff unused tothe daylight; and I thought at once of the tales I had heard concerningmines in Cornwall, and the silver cup at Combe-Martin, sent to the QueenElizabeth.

  'We had a tree across it, John,' said Uncle Reuben, smiling grimly at mysudden shrink from it: 'but some rogue came spying here, just as one ofour men went up. He was frightened half out of his life, I believe, andnever ventured to come again. But we put the blame of that upon you. AndI see that we were wrong, John.' Here he looked at me with keen eyes,though weak.

  'You were altogether wrong,' I answered. 'Am I mean enough to spy uponany one dwelling with us? And more than that, Uncle Reuben, it was meanof you to suppose it.'

  'All ideas are different,' replied the old man to my heat, like a littleworn-out rill running down a smithy; 'you with your strength and youth,and all that, are inclined to be romantic. I take things as I have knownthem, going on for seventy years. Now will you come and meet the wizard,or does your courage fail you?'

  'My courage must be none,' said I, 'if I would not go where you go,sir.'

  He said no more, but signed to me to lift a heavy wooden corb with aniron loop across it, and sunk in a little pit of earth, a yard or sofrom the mouth of the shaft. I raised it, and by his direction droppedit into the throat of the shaft, where it hung and shook from a greatcross-beam laid at the level of the earth. A very stout thick rope wasfastened to the handle of the corb, and ran across a pulley hanging fromthe centre of the beam, and thence out of sight in the nether places.

  'I will first descend,' he said; 'your weight is too great for safety.When the bucket comes up again, follow me, if your heart is good.'

  Then he whistled down, with a quick sharp noise, and a whistle frombelow replied; and he clomb into the vehicle, and the rope ran throughthe pulley, and Uncle Ben went merrily down, and was out of sight,before I had time to think of him.

  Now being left on the bank like that, and in full sight of the goodlyheaven, I wrestled hard with my flesh and blood, about going downinto the pit-hole. And but for the pale shame of the thing, that awhite-headed man should adventure so, and green youth doubt aboutit, never could I have made up my mind; for I do love air and heaven.However, at last up came the bucket; and with a short sad prayer I wentinto whatever might happen.

  My teeth would chatter, do all I could; but the strength of my arms waswith me; and by them I held on the grimy rope, and so eased the footof the corb, which threatened to go away fathoms under me. Of course Ishould still have been safe enough, being like an egg in an egg-cup, toobig to care for the bottom; still I wished that all should be done, ingood order, without excitement.

  The scoopings of the side grew black, and the patch of sky above moreblue, as with many thoughts of Lorna, a long way underground I sank.Then I was fetched up at the bottom with a jerk and rattle; and but forholding by the rope so, must have tumbled over. Two great torches ofbale-resin showed me all the darkness, one being held by Uncle Ben andthe other by a short square man with a face which seemed well-known tome.

  'Hail to the world of gold, John Ridd,' said Master Huckaback, smilingin the old dry manner; 'bigger coward never came down the shaft, now didhe, Carfax?'

  'They be all alike,' said the short square man, 'fust time as they doosit.'

  'May I go to heaven,' I cried, 'which is a thing quite out ofsight'--for I always have a vein of humour, too small to be followedby any one--'if ever again of my own accord I go so far away from it!'Uncle Ben grinned less at this than at the way I knocked my shin ingetting out of the bucket; and as for Master Carfax, he would noteven deign to smile. And he seemed to look upon my entrance as aninterloping.

  For my part, I had nought to do, after rubbing my bruised leg, except tolook about me, so far as the dullness of light would help. And herein Iseemed, like a mouse in a trap, able no more than to run to and fro,and knock himself, and stare at things. For here was a little channelgrooved with posts on either side of it, and ending with a heap ofdarkness, whence the sight came back again; and there was a scoopedplace, like a funnel, but pouring only to darkness. So I waited forsomebody to speak first, not seeing my way to anything.'

  'You seem to be disappointed, John,' said Uncle Reuben, looking blue bythe light of the flambeaux; 'did you expect to see the roof of gold, andthe sides of gold, and the floor of gold, John Ridd?'

  'Ha, ha!' cried Master Carfax; 'I reckon her did; no doubt her did.'

  'You are wrong,' I replied; 'but I did expect to see something betterthan dirt and darkness.'

  'Come on then, my lad; and we will show you some-thing better. We wantyour great arm on here, for a job that has be
aten the whole of us.'

  With these words, Uncle Ben led the way along a narrow passage, roofedwith rock and floored with slate-coloured shale and shingle, and windingin and out, until we stopped at a great stone block or boulder, lyingacross the floor, and as large as my mother's best oaken wardrobe.Beside it were several sledge-hammers, battered, and some with brokenhelves.

  'Thou great villain!' cried Uncle Ben, giving the boulder a little kick;'I believe thy time is come at last. Now, John, give us a sample of thethings they tell of thee. Take the biggest of them sledge-hammers andcrack this rogue in two for us. We have tried at him for a fortnight,and he is a nut worth cracking. But we have no man who can swing thathammer, though all in the mine have handled it.'

  'I will do my very best,' said I, pulling off my coat and waistcoat, asif I were going to wrestle; 'but I fear he will prove too tough for me.'

  'Ay, that her wull,' grunted Master Carfax; 'lack'th a Carnishman, anda beg one too, not a little charp such as I be. There be no man outsideCarnwall, as can crack that boolder.'

  'Bless my heart,' I answered; 'but I know something of you, my friend,or at any rate of your family. Well, I have beaten most of your Cornishmen, though not my place to talk of it. But mind, if I crack this rockfor you, I must have some of the gold inside it.'

  'Dost think to see the gold come tumbling out like the kernel of a nut,thou zany?' asked Uncle Reuben pettishly; 'now wilt thou crack it orwilt thou not? For I believe thou canst do it, though only a lad ofSomerset.'

  Uncle Reuben showed by saying this, and by his glance at Carfax, that hewas proud of his county, and would be disappointed for it if I failed tocrack the boulder. So I begged him to stoop his torch a little, thatI might examine my subject. To me there appeared to be nothing at allremarkable about it, except that it sparkled here and there, when theflash of the flame fell upon it. A great obstinate, oblong, sullenstone; how could it be worth the breaking, except for making roads with?

  Nevertheless, I took up the hammer, and swinging it far behind my head,fetched it down, with all my power, upon the middle of the rock. Theroof above rang mightily, and the echo went down delven galleries, sothat all the miners flocked to know what might be doing. But MasterCarfax only smiled, although the blow shook him where he stood, forbehold the stone was still unbroken, and as firm as ever. Then I smoteit again, with no better fortune, and Uncle Ben looked vexed and angry,but all the miners grinned with triumph.

  'This little tool is too light,' I cried; 'one of you give me a piece ofstrong cord.'

  Then I took two more of the weightiest hammers, and lashed them fast tothe back of mine, not so as to strike, but to burden the fall. Havingmade this firm, and with room to grasp the handle of the largest oneonly--for the helves of the others were shorter--I smiled at Uncle Ben,and whirled the mighty implement round my head, just to try whether Icould manage it. Upon that the miners gave a cheer, being honest men,and desirous of seeing fair play between this 'shameless stone' (as DanHomer calls it) and me with my hammer hammering.

  Then I swung me on high to the swing of the sledge, as a thresherbends back to the rise of his flail, and with all my power descendingdelivered the ponderous onset. Crashing and crushed the great stone fellover, and threads of sparkling gold appeared in the jagged sides of thebreakage.

  'How now, Simon Carfax?' cried Uncle Ben triumphantly; 'wilt thou find aman in Cornwall can do the like of that?'

  'Ay, and more,' he answered; 'however, it be pretty fair for a lad ofthese outlandish parts. Get your rollers, my lads, and lead it to thecrushing engine.'

  I was glad to have been of some service to them; for it seems that thisgreat boulder had been too large to be drawn along the gallery and toohard to crack. But now they moved it very easily, taking piece by piece,and carefully picking up the fragments.

  'Thou hast done us a good turn, my lad,' said Uncle Reuben, as theothers passed out of sight at the corner; 'and now I will show thee thebottom of a very wondrous mystery. But we must not do it more than once,for the time of day is the wrong one.'

  The whole affair being a mystery to me, and far beyond my understanding,I followed him softly, without a word, yet thinking very heavily, andlonging to be above ground again. He led me through small passages, to ahollow place near the descending shaft, where I saw a most extraordinarymonster fitted up. In form it was like a great coffee-mill, such asI had seen in London, only a thousand times larger, and with heavywindlass to work it.

  'Put in a barrow-load of the smoulder,' said Uncle Ben to Carfax, 'andlet them work the crank, for John to understand a thing or two.'

  'At this time of day!' cried Simon Carfax; 'and the watching as has beeno' late!'

  However, he did it without more remonstrance; pouring into the scuttleat the top of the machine about a baskeful of broken rock; and then adozen men went to the wheel, and forced it round, as sailors do. Uponthat such a hideous noise arose, as I never should have believed anycreature capable of making, and I ran to the well of the mine for air,and to ease my ears, if possible.

  'Enough, enough!' shouted Uncle Ben by the time I was nearly deafened;'we will digest our goodly boulder after the devil is come abroad forhis evening work. Now, John, not a word about what you have learned; buthenceforth you will not be frightened by the noise we make at dusk.'

  I could not deny but what this was very clever management. If they couldnot keep the echoes of the upper air from moving, the wisest plan was toopen their valves during the discouragement of the falling evening;when folk would rather be driven away, than drawn into the wilds andquagmires, by a sound so deep and awful, coming through the darkness.

  CHAPTER LIX

  LORNA GONE AWAY

  Although there are very ancient tales of gold being found upon Exmoor,in lumps and solid hummocks, and of men who slew one another for it,this deep digging and great labour seemed to me a dangerous and unholyenterprise. And Master Huckaback confessed that up to the present timehis two partners and himself (for they proved to be three adventurers)had put into the earth more gold than they had taken out of it.Nevertheless he felt quite sure that it must in a very short timesucceed, and pay them back an hundredfold; and he pressed me with greatearnestness to join them, and work there as much as I could, withoutmoving my mother's suspicions. I asked him how they had managed so longto carry on without discovery; and he said that this was partly throughthe wildness of the neighbourhood, and the legends that frightenedpeople of a superstitious turn; partly through their own great caution,and the manner of fetching both supplies and implements by night;but most of all, they had to thank the troubles of the period, thesuspicions of rebellion, and the terror of the Doones, which (like thewizard I was speaking of) kept folk from being too inquisitive wherethey had no business. The slough, moreover, had helped them well,both by making their access dark, and yet more by swallowing up andconcealing all that was cast from the mouth of the pit. Once, beforethe attack on Glen Doone, they had a narrow escape from the King'sCommissioner; for Captain Stickles having heard no doubt the story ofJohn Fry, went with half a dozen troopers, on purpose to search theneighbourhood. Now if he had ridden alone, most likely he would havediscovered everything; but he feared to venture so, having suspicion ofa trap. Coming as they did in a company, all mounted and conspicuous,the watchman (who was posted now on the top of the hill, almost everyday since John Fry's appearance) could not help espying them, milesdistant, over the moorland. He watched them under the shade of his hand,and presently ran down the hill, and raised a great commotion. ThenSimon Carfax and all his men came up, and made things natural, removingevery sign of work; and finally, sinking underground, drew across themouth of the pit a hurdle thatched with sedge and heather. Only Simonhimself was left behind, ensconced in a hole of the crags, to observethe doings of the enemy.

  Captain Stickles rode very bravely, with all his men clattering afterhim, down the rocky pass, and even to the margin of the slough. Andthere they stopped, and held council; for it was a perilous thing torisk t
he passage upon horseback, between the treacherous brink andthe cliff, unless one knew it thoroughly. Stickles, however, and onefollower, carefully felt the way along, having their horses well inhand, and bearing a rope to draw them out, in case of being foundered.Then they spurred across the rough boggy land, farther away than theshaft was. Here the ground lay jagged and shaggy, wrought up with hightufts of reed, or scragged with stunted brushwood. And between the upsand downs (which met anybody anyhow) green-covered places tempted thefoot, and black bog-holes discouraged it. It is not to be marvelled atthat amid such place as this, for the first time visited, the horseswere a little skeary; and their riders partook of the feeling, as allgood riders do. In and out of the tufts they went, with their eyesdilating, wishing to be out of harm, if conscience were but satisfied.And of this tufty flaggy ground, pocked with bogs and boglets, oneespecial nature is that it will not hold impressions.

  Seeing thus no track of men, nor anything but marsh-work, and stormwork,and of the seasons, these two honest men rode back, and were glad to doso. For above them hung the mountains, cowled with fog, and seamed withstorm; and around them desolation and below their feet the grave. Hencethey went, with all goodwill; and vowed for ever afterwards that fear ofa simple place like that was only too ridiculous. So they all rodehome with mutual praises, and their courage well-approved; and the onlyresult of the expedition was to confirm John Fry's repute as a biggerliar than ever.

  Now I had enough of that underground work, as before related, to last mefor a year to come; neither would I, for sake of gold, have ever steppedinto that bucket, of my own goodwill again. But when I told Lorna--whomI could trust in any matter of secrecy, as if she had never been awoman--all about my great descent, and the honeycombing of the earth,and the mournful noise at eventide, when the gold was under the crusherand bewailing the mischief it must do, then Lorna's chief desire was toknow more about Simon Carfax.

  'It must be our Gwenny's father,' she cried; 'the man who disappearedunderground, and whom she has ever been seeking. How grieved the poorlittle thing will be, if it should turn out, after all, that he left hischild on purpose! I can hardly believe it; can you, John?'

  'Well,' I replied; 'all men are wicked, more or less, to some extent;and no man may say otherwise.'

  For I did not wish to commit myself to an opinion about Simon, lest Imight be wrong, and Lorna think less of my judgment.

  But being resolved to see this out, and do a good turn, if I could, toGwenny, who had done me many a good one, I begged my Lorna to say not aword of this matter to the handmaiden, until I had further searchedit out. And to carry out this resolve, I went again to the place ofbusiness where they were grinding gold as freely as an apothecary at hispills.

  Having now true right of entrance, and being known to the watchman, andregarded (since I cracked the boulder) as one who could pay his footing,and perhaps would be the master, when Uncle Ben should be choked withmoney, I found the corb sent up for me rather sooner than I wished it.For the smell of the places underground, and the way men's eyes came outof them, with links, and brands, and flambeaux, instead of God's lightto look at, were to me a point of caution, rather than of pleasure.

  No doubt but what some men enjoy it, being born, like worms, to dig, andto live in their own scoopings. Yet even the worms come up sometimes,after a good soft shower of rain, and hold discourse with one another;whereas these men, and the horses let down, come above ground never.

  And the changing of the sky is half the change our nature calls for.Earth we have, and all its produce (moving from the first appearance,and the hope with infants' eyes, through the bloom of beauty's promise,to the rich and ripe fulfilment, and the falling back to rest); sea wehave (with all its wonder shed on eyes, and ears, and heart; and thethought of something more)--but without the sky to look at, what wouldearth, and sea, and even our own selves, be to us?

  Do we look at earth with hope? Yes, for victuals only. Do we look atsea with hope? Yes, that we may escape it. At the sky alone (thoughquestioned with the doubts of sunshine, or scattered with uncertainstars), at the sky alone we look with pure hope and with memory.

  Hence it always hurt my feelings when I got into that bucket, with mysmall-clothes turned up over, and a kerchief round my hat. But knowingthat my purpose was sound, and my motives pure, I let the sky grow toa little blue hole, and then to nothing over me. At the bottom MasterCarfax met me, being captain of the mine, and desirous to know mybusiness. He wore a loose sack round his shoulders, and his beard wastwo feet long.

  'My business is to speak with you,' I answered rather sternly; forthis man, who was nothing more than Uncle Reuben's servant, had carriedthings too far with me, showing no respect whatever; and though I didnot care for much, I liked to receive a little, even in my early days.

  'Coom into the muck-hole, then,' was his gracious answer; and he led meinto a filthy cell, where the miners changed their jackets.

  'Simon Carfax, I began, with a manner to discourage him; 'I fear you area shallow fellow, and not worth my trouble.'

  'Then don't take it,' he replied; 'I want no man's trouble.'

  'For your sake I would not,' I answered; 'but for your daughter's sakeI will; the daughter whom you left to starve so pitifully in thewilderness.'

  The man stared at me with his pale gray eyes, whose colour was lost fromcandle light; and his voice as well as his body shook, while he cried,--

  'It is a lie, man. No daughter, and no son have I. Nor was ever child ofmine left to starve in the wilderness. You are too big for me to tackle,and that makes you a coward for saying it.' His hands were playing witha pickaxe helve, as if he longed to have me under it.

  'Perhaps I have wronged you, Simon,' I answered very softly; for thesweat upon his forehead shone in the smoky torchlight; 'if I have, Icrave your pardon. But did you not bring up from Cornwall a little maidnamed "Gwenny," and supposed to be your daughter?'

  'Ay, and she was my daughter, my last and only child of five; and forher I would give this mine, and all the gold will ever come from it.'

  'You shall have her, without either mine or gold; if you only prove tome that you did not abandon her.'

  'Abandon her! I abandon Gwenny!' He cried with such a rage of scorn,that I at once believed him. 'They told me she was dead, and crushed,and buried in the drift here; and half my heart died with her. TheAlmighty blast their mining-work, if the scoundrels lied to me!'

  'The scoundrels must have lied to you,' I answered, with a spirit firedby his heat of fury: 'the maid is living and with us. Come up; and youshall see her.'

  'Rig the bucket,' he shouted out along the echoing gallery; and then hefell against the wall, and through the grimy sack I saw the heaving ofhis breast, as I have seen my opponent's chest, in a long hard bout ofwrestling. For my part, I could do no more than hold my tongue and lookat him.

  Without another word we rose to the level of the moors and mires;neither would Master Carfax speak, as I led him across the barrows. Inthis he was welcome to his own way, for I do love silence; so littleharm can come of it. And though Gwenny was no beauty, her father mightbe fond of her.

  So I put him in the cow-house (not to frighten the little maid), andthe folding shutters over him, such as we used at the beestings; and helistened to my voice outside, and held on, and preserved himself. Fornow he would have scooped the earth, as cattle do at yearning-time, andas meekly and as patiently, to have his child restored to him. Not tomake long tale of it--for this thing is beyond me, through want of trueexperience--I went and fetched his Gwenny forth from the back kitchen,where she was fighting, as usual, with our Betty.

  'Come along, you little Vick,' I said, for so we called her; 'I have amessage to you, Gwenny, from the Lord in heaven.'

  'Don't 'ee talk about He,' she answered; 'Her have long forgatten me.'

  'That He has never done, you stupid. Come, and see who is in thecowhouse.'

  Gwenny knew; she knew in a moment. Looking into my eyes, she knew; andhanging back from me
to sigh, she knew it even better.

  She had not much elegance of emotion, being flat and square all over;but none the less for that her heart came quick, and her words cameslowly.

  'Oh, Jan, you are too good to cheat me. Is it joke you are putting uponme?'

  I answered her with a gaze alone; and she tucked up her clothes andfollowed me because the road was dirty. Then I opened the door just wideenough for the child to to go her father, and left those two to have itout, as might be most natural. And they took a long time about it.

  Meanwhile I needs must go and tell my Lorna all the matter; and her joywas almost as great as if she herself had found a father. And thewonder of the whole was this, that I got all the credit; of which nota thousandth part belonged by right and reason to me. Yet so it almostalways is. If I work for good desert, and slave, and lie awake at night,and spend my unborn life in dreams, not a blink, nor wink, nor inklingof my labour ever tells. It would have been better to leave unburned,and to keep undevoured, the fuel and the food of life. But if I havelaboured not, only acted by some impulse, whim, caprice, or anything;or even acting not at all, only letting things float by; piled upon mecommendations, bravoes, and applauses, almost work me up to tempt onceagain (though sick of it) the ill luck of deserving.

  Without intending any harm, and meaning only good indeed, I had now doneserious wrong to Uncle Reuben's prospects. For Captain Carfax was fullas angry at the trick played on him as he was happy in discovering thefalsehood and the fraud of it. Nor could I help agreeing with him, whenhe told me all of it, as with tears in his eyes he did, and ready to bemy slave henceforth; I could not forbear from owning that it was a lowand heartless trick, unworthy of men who had families; and the recoilwhereof was well deserved, whatever it might end in.

  For when this poor man left his daughter, asleep as he supposed, andhaving his food, and change of clothes, and Sunday hat to see to, hemeant to return in an hour or so, and settle about her sustenance insome house of the neighbourhood. But this was the very thing of allthings which the leaders of the enterprise, who had brought him up fromCornwall, for his noted skill in metals, were determined, whether byfair means or foul, to stop at the very outset. Secrecy being their mainobject, what chance could there be of it, if the miners were allowed tokeep their children in the neighbourhood? Hence, on the plea of feastingSimon, they kept him drunk for three days and three nights, assuring him(whenever he had gleams enough to ask for her) that his daughter was aswell as could be, and enjoying herself with the children. Not wishingthe maid to see him tipsy, he pressed the matter no further; but appliedhimself to the bottle again, and drank her health with pleasure.

  However, after three days of this, his constitution rose against it, andhe became quite sober; with a certain lowness of heart moreover, and asense of error. And his first desire to right himself, and easiest wayto do it, was by exerting parental authority upon Gwenny. Possessed withthis intention (for he was not a sweet tempered man, and his head wasaching sadly) he sought for Gwenny high and low; first with threats, andthen with fears, and then with tears and wailing. And so he became tothe other men a warning and a great annoyance. Therefore they combinedto swear what seemed a very likely thing, and might be true for allthey knew, to wit, that Gwenny had come to seek for her father down theshaft-hole, and peering too eagerly into the dark, had toppled forward,and gone down, and lain at the bottom as dead as a stone.

  'And thou being so happy with drink,' the villains finished up to him,'and getting drunker every day, we thought it shame to trouble thee; andwe buried the wench in the lower drift; and no use to think more of her;but come and have a glass, Sim.'

  But Simon Carfax swore that drink had lost him his wife, and now hadlost him the last of his five children, and would lose him his own soul,if further he went on with it; and from that day to his death he nevertouched strong drink again. Nor only this; but being soon appointedcaptain of the mine, he allowed no man on any pretext to bring cordialsthither; and to this and his stern hard rule and stealthy secretmanagement (as much as to good luck and place) might it be attributedthat scarcely any but themselves had dreamed about this Exmoor mine.

  As for me, I had no ambition to become a miner; and the state to whichgold-seeking had brought poor Uncle Ben was not at all encouraging. Mybusiness was to till the ground, and tend the growth that came of it,and store the fruit in Heaven's good time, rather than to scoop andburrow like a weasel or a rat for the yellow root of evil. Moreover, Iwas led from home, between the hay and corn harvests (when we often havea week to spare), by a call there was no resisting; unless I gave up allregard for wrestling, and for my county.

  Now here many persons may take me amiss, and there always has been someconfusion which people who ought to have known better have wrought intosubject of quarrelling. By birth it is true, and cannot be denied,that I am a man of Somerset; nevertheless by breed I am, as well as byeducation, a son of Devon also. And just as both of our two countiesvowed that Glen Doone was none of theirs, but belonged to the otherone; so now, each with hot claim and jangling (leading even to blowssometimes), asserted and would swear to it (as I became more famous)that John Ridd was of its own producing, bred of its own true blood, andbasely stolen by the other.

  Now I have not judged it in any way needful or even becoming anddelicate, to enter into my wrestling adventures, or describe myprogress. The whole thing is so different from Lorna, and her gentlemanners, and her style of walking; moreover I must seem (even to kindpeople) to magnify myself so much, or at least attempt to do it, that Ihave scratched out written pages, through my better taste and sense.

  Neither will I, upon this head, make any difference even now; beingsimply betrayed into mentioning the matter because bare truth requiresit, in the tale of Lorna's fortunes.

  For a mighty giant had arisen in a part of Cornwall: and his calf wastwenty-five inches round, and the breadth of his shoulders two feetand a quarter; and his stature seven feet and three-quarters. Round thechest he was seventy inches, and his hand a foot across, and there wereno scales strong enough to judge of his weight in the market-place. Nowthis man--or I should say, his backers and his boasters, for the gianthimself was modest--sent me a brave and haughty challenge, to meethim in the ring at Bodmin-town, on the first day of August, or else toreturn my champion's belt to them by the messenger.

  It is no use to deny but that I was greatly dashed and scared at first.For my part, I was only, when measured without clothes on, sixty inchesround the breast, and round the calf scarce twenty-one, only two feetacross the shoulders, and in height not six and three-quarters. However,my mother would never believe that this man could beat me; and Lornabeing of the same mind, I resolved to go and try him, as they would payall expenses and a hundred pounds, if I conquered him; so confident werethose Cornishmen.

  Now this story is too well known for me to go through it again andagain. Every child in Devonshire knows, and his grandson will know, thesong which some clever man made of it, after I had treated him to water,and to lemon, and a little sugar, and a drop of eau-de-vie. Enough thatI had found the giant quite as big as they had described him, and enoughto terrify any one. But trusting in my practice and study of the art, Iresolved to try a back with him; and when my arms were round him once,the giant was but a farthingale put into the vice of a blacksmith. Theman had no bones; his frame sank in, and I was afraid of crushing him.He lay on his back, and smiled at me; and I begged his pardon.

  Now this affair made a noise at the time, and redounded so much to mycredit, that I was deeply grieved at it, because deserving none. ForI do like a good strife and struggle; and the doubt makes the joy ofvictory; whereas in this case, I might as well have been sent for amatch with a hay-mow. However, I got my hundred pounds, and made up mymind to spend every farthing in presents for mother and Lorna.

  For Annie was married by this time, and long before I went away; as needscarcely be said, perhaps; if any one follows the weeks and the months.The wedding was quiet enough, except for
everybody's good wishes; and Idesire not to dwell upon it, because it grieved me in many ways.

  But now that I had tried to hope the very best for dear Annie, a deeperblow than could have come, even through her, awaited me. For after thatvisit to Cornwall, and with my prize-money about me, I came on footfrom Okehampton to Oare, so as to save a little sum towards my time ofmarrying. For Lorna's fortune I would not have; small or great I wouldnot have it; only if there were no denying we would devote the whole ofit to charitable uses, as Master Peter Blundell had done; and perhapsthe future ages would endeavour to be grateful. Lorna and I had settledthis question at least twice a day, on the average; and each time withmore satisfaction.

  Now coming into the kitchen with all my cash in my breeches pocket(golden guineas, with an elephant on them, for the stamp of the GuineaCompany), I found dear mother most heartily glad to see me safe andsound again--for she had dreaded that giant, and dreamed of him--andshe never asked me about the money. Lizzie also was softer, and moregracious than usual; especially when she saw me pour guineas, likepeppercorns, into the pudding-basin. But by the way they hung about, Iknew that something was gone wrong.

  'Where is Lorna?' I asked at length, after trying not to ask it; 'I wanther to come, and see my money. She never saw so much before.'

  'Alas!' said mother with a heavy sigh; 'she will see a great deal more,I fear; and a deal more than is good for her. Whether you ever see heragain will depend upon her nature, John.'

  'What do you mean, mother? Have you quarrelled? Why does not Lorna cometo me? Am I never to know?'

  'Now, John, be not so impatient,' my mother replied, quite calmly, forin truth she was jealous of Lorna, 'you could wait now, very well, John,if it were till this day week, for the coming of your mother, John. Andyet your mother is your best friend. Who can ever fill her place?'

  Thinking of her future absence, mother turned away and cried; and thebox-iron singed the blanket.

  'Now,' said I, being wild by this time; 'Lizzie, you have a littlesense; will you tell me where is Lorna?'

  'The Lady Lorna Dugal,' said Lizzie, screwing up her lips as if thetitle were too grand, 'is gone to London, brother John; and not likelyto come back again. We must try to get on without her.'

  'You little--[something]' I cried, which I dare not write down here,as all you are too good for such language; but Lizzie's lip provoked meso--'my Lorna gone, my Lorna gone! And without good-bye to me even! Itis your spite has sickened her.'

  'You are quite mistaken there,' she replied; 'how can folk of low degreehave either spite or liking towards the people so far above them? TheLady Lorna Dugal is gone, because she could not help herself; and shewept enough to break ten hearts--if hearts are ever broken, John.'

  'Darling Lizzie, how good you are!' I cried, without noticing her sneer;'tell me all about it, dear; tell me every word she said.'

  'That will not take long,' said Lizzie, quite as unmoved by soft coaxingas by urgent cursing; 'the lady spoke very little to any one, exceptindeed to mother, and to Gwenny Carfax; and Gwenny is gone with her, sothat the benefit of that is lost. But she left a letter for "poor John,"as in charity she called him. How grand she looked, to be sure, with thefine clothes on that were come for her!'

  'Where is the letter, you utter vixen! Oh, may you have a husband!'

  'Who will thresh it out of you, and starve it, and swear it out of you!'was the meaning of my imprecation: but Lizzie, not dreaming as yet ofsuch things, could not understand me, and was rather thankful; thereforeshe answered quietly,--

  'The letter is in the little cupboard, near the head of Lady Lorna'sbed, where she used to keep the diamond necklace, which we contrived toget stolen.'

  Without another word I rushed (so that every board in the house shook)up to my lost Lorna's room, and tore the little wall-niche open andespied my treasure. It was as simple, and as homely, and loving, as evenI could wish. Part of it ran as follows,--the other parts it behoves menot to open out to strangers:--'My own love, and sometime lord,--Take itnot amiss of me, that even without farewell, I go; for I cannot persuadethe men to wait, your return being doubtful. My great-uncle, some grandlord, is awaiting me at Dunster, having fear of venturing too near thisExmoor country. I, who have been so lawless always, and the child ofoutlaws, am now to atone for this, it seems, by living in a court oflaw, and under special surveillance (as they call it, I believe) ofHis Majesty's Court of Chancery. My uncle is appointed my guardian andmaster; and I must live beneath his care, until I am twenty-one yearsold. To me this appears a dreadful thing, and very unjust, and cruel;for why should I lose my freedom, through heritage of land and gold? Ioffered to abandon all if they would only let me go; I went down on myknees to them, and said I wanted titles not, neither land, nor money;only to stay where I was, where first I had known happiness. But theyonly laughed and called me "child," and said I must talk of that to theKing's High Chancellor. Their orders they had, and must obey them; andMaster Stickles was ordered too, to help as the King's Commissioner. Andthen, although it pierced my heart not to say one "goodbye, John," Iwas glad upon the whole that you were not here to dispute it. For I amalmost certain that you would not, without force to yourself, have letyour Lorna go to people who never, never can care for her.'

  Here my darling had wept again, by the tokens on the paper; and thenthere followed some sweet words, too sweet for me to chatter them.But she finished with these noble lines, which (being common to allhumanity, in a case of steadfast love) I do no harm, but rather help alltrue love by repeating. 'Of one thing rest you well assured--and I dohope that it may prove of service to your rest, love, else would my ownbe broken--no difference of rank, or fortune, or of life itself, shallever make me swerve from truth to you. We have passed through manytroubles, dangers, and dispartments, but never yet was doubt between us;neither ever shall be. Each has trusted well the other; and stilleach must do so. Though they tell you I am false, though your own mindharbours it, from the sense of things around, and your own undervaluing,yet take counsel of your heart, and cast such thoughts away from you;being unworthy of itself they must be unworthy also of the one whodwells there; and that one is, and ever shall be, your own Lorna Dugal.'

  Some people cannot understand that tears should come from pleasure; butwhether from pleasure or from sorrow (mixed as they are in the twistedstrings of a man's heart, or a woman's), great tears fell from my stupideyes, even on the blots of Lorna's.

  'No doubt it is all over,' my mind said to me bitterly; 'trust me, allshall yet be right,' my heart replied very sweetly.