Slowly he moved forward; then stopped abruptly, for there on the floor against the wall of rock something was lying. He could just dimly make out the shape in the diminishing light. Bess was sniffing at it, and as he sprang forward his foot caught a jutting piece of rock and he almost fell alongside the form on the ground.
He was on his knees, his hands moving over the prone figure. He gave a great gasp before he cried, ‘Barbara! Barbara!’
She was lying with her face to the rock wall, her arms crossed on her breast and her hands doubled under her chin; her knees were drawn up and almost touching her elbows. He turned her over, muttering all the while, ‘Barbara! Oh Barbara! Thank God!’ Then when he tried to straighten her body he wondered why he was thanking God, for it was stiff and unyielding. Rapidly now he got to his feet and attempted to lift her, but found it impossible, so he put his hands under her armpits and drew her slowly over the rough floor towards the opening.
In the light of day he looked down at her. Those parts of her face that were not covered with dirt had the waxen colour of death on them. The upper garments felt dry but her skirt and the lower parts were heavy with water, and the bottom of her coat and dress and her boots were caked with wet mud, pointing to her having gone through some part of the river, for the roads were dry and hard.
Hastily now he forced her arms apart, undid the front of her coat and her dress, then put his hand inside her bodice. He could feel no movement, no beat. Frantically he undid some buttons that were evident, then thrust his hand between a lawn garment and her bare flesh. Still he could feel nothing. Now his ear was pressed against her breast bone; perhaps it was imagination but he thought that he could hear a faint beat. Plunging his hand into his overcoat pocket he brought out his flask. He unscrewed the silver top that could be used as a cup and filled it to the brim; then cradling her shoulders and upper body against his knees he brought her head upwards and gently poured the liquid between her slightly open lips.
When the cup was half empty the brandy was running out from the side of her mouth. And now he began frantically to stroke her neck with his fingers, talking all the while, pleading: ‘Barbara; come on, come on; let it go down. Barbara, for God’s sake, come on!’ It couldn’t be too late, it couldn’t. Why had he to come up here if it was too late? No, no. ‘Come on.’ Oh God! Christ! Make her swallow it.
As if his prayer had been instantly answered she gulped and he almost laughed aloud.
She gulped again, and after a third gulp she began to cough. It was a small faint sound, reluctant; following it she drew in a deep breath and her body shuddered; her knees began to tremble, then her trunk, then her arms until the whole of her was shaking violently.
Holding her tightly to him for a moment he rocked her; then laying her back on the ground he tore off his overcoat and put it around her, then again he held her, talking quietly to her now, knowing that she could not hear. ‘It’s all right, my love, it’s all right, it’s all over, you’ll soon be home and warm. Oh my dear, my dear; that you should have been driven to this. I don’t care what you’ve done, or who you’ve done it to, it’ll make no matter to me. Oh, Barbara. Barbara.’
When her eyes slowly opened he looked down into them and said, ‘You’re all right, there is nothing to worry about, you’ll soon be home. Do…do you think you can get to your feet?’
She showed no sign of understanding him; her face was expressionless and still held the deathly pallor.
He now put one arm right around her shoulders and tried to raise her upwards, but her weight remained a dead weight; the stiffness had gone from her body only to leave a shivering limpness that was equally heavy. He urged her now, mouthed his words slowly, ‘Try, Barbara, try to stand. Come on, come on.’ But there was no movement from her body, no flicker from her eyes.
He laid her back and stood up and looked down over the hills to the valley; then he brought his gaze to Bess and shook his head. He should have paid heed to Knowles; all Bess was good for was wagging her tail, or licking your face. If he had brought Rory he could have given him his hat and he would have gone down there in a flash and led someone back. This is what came of being sentimental and impractical because of boyhood associations.
But it was no use ranting at the dog, he must get her down. But how? He couldn’t carry her. In a moment of bitterness he thought that if he had been made like the blond farmer he could have done so; and to drag her down to the clearing was out of the question. It was either going for help himself or attracting it.
He looked down towards her and he kept his gaze on her for a moment before turning away and running swiftly to the butte. After climbing to its highest point he stood and, placing his hands around his mouth, bellowed over the hills, ‘He…lp! He…lp!’ then added, ‘Any…body…there? He…lp!’
He waited some seconds before calling again. And again he waited. Then just when he had made up his mind to dash down to the clearing and ride to the cottage he saw two moving figures far away down in the valley. They came into view from behind the stone wall and stopped and looked upward. And now he was bellowing again and waving them toward him.
After some minutes of watching them moving along the valley bottom a voice came up to him, calling, ‘Hello there!…What is it?’
Again he waved and shouted, ‘Help!’ then pointed away to his right.
He thought for a moment that they were going back the way they had come, and they did for some distance, for they disappeared from view, but reappeared again much nearer, mounting the hills. They did not approach him by the way he had come but cut knowledgeably across the foot of the hills until they came out almost below the butte on a path screened by bracken. One man he recognised as one of their farmhands, the other man, a big broad-shouldered tousle-headed youth, he did not know.
The farmhand shouted up, ‘You found her, sir?’
‘Yes, over here; quick!’
Before they reached the path he was already going ahead and by the time they had caught up with him he was kneeling by Barbara and had raised her head once again from the ground.
Looking down at her, the farm hand said, ‘Aye, God! but she’s in a state. She alive, master?’
‘Yes, yes; but…but she’s ill, and very cold; we must get her down as quickly as possible. I’ll…I’ll carry her shoulders if you’ll support her legs.’
‘Lumbersome way that.’
Dan turned and looked up at the big face hanging over him, and the young man said, ‘’Twould be all right if she were on a door, but going like that she’d be joggled. Best let me carry her alone.’
‘’Twould be best thing, master.’ It was the farmhand speaking now. ‘Barney’s very strong, he’s a champion wrestler round these parts, she’d be nothin’ to him to carry.’
Dan rose to his feet, saying, ‘Of course. Doesn’t matter how we get her down so long as we get her down, and quick.’
Not without envy, he watched the young fellow stoop, place one arm under the inert figure’s legs, the other under her shoulders, and lifted her up as if she were a child; then, sure-footed as a goat, he went before them, but again not by the way he had come up. Now he followed the path round the butte and down toward the clearing, while Bess ran to and fro in front of him yapping and barking as if it were all a game.
When they reached the clearing the young fellow stopped and, hitching his burden higher up against his chest, he asked, ‘Where am I for?’
‘The cottage, Miss Brigmore’s cottage. You know it?’
‘Aye, I know it.’
‘I’ll…I’ll get my horse.’
Neither the young fellow nor the farmhand waited for him and so, once mounted, he had to put the horse into a trot to catch up with them.
As they neared the cottage he galloped ahead; then jumping from the horse he ran across the yard and burst unceremoniously into the kitchen, startling Mary so that she cried out, ‘God’s sake! What is it now?’
‘I’ve…I’ve found her!’ He was gasping as if
he had run all the way.
‘Oh! No, no. Oh! Dan; you haven’t have you, you haven’t?’
‘Yes, yes. Where’s Brigie?’
‘She’s asleep; she didn’t go off until nearly dawn, nor me neither. I…I just got up meself. But oh! thanks be to God! Thanks be to God! I’ll tell her.’ She ran from the kitchen, shouting, ‘Miss! Miss! Come. She’s here! She’s here!’
He ran into the yard again where the two men were entering, and he beckoned them toward him, and the young redheaded fellow walked sideways into the kitchen while Dan, backing from him saying, ‘Through here, through here,’ opened the door into the little hall, then the door into the sitting room; he then pointed to the couch and the young fellow went to it and laid the now utterly limp form down on it.
When he straightened up he stood for a moment looking down at the girl; then turning away, he said, ‘Well, that’s done,’ and marched out of the room, just as Miss Brigmore came running down the stairs. Her eyes wide, she stared at the strange man for a moment before darting into the sitting room and to the couch, where, cradling her child in her arms, she moaned over her while Mary stood to her side wringing her hands.
Dan stood just within the doorway looking at them. He could do nothing for the moment and, remembering the men, at least the stranger whom he would have to compensate, he hurried back into the kitchen. As he went in one door they were going out of the other and the young redheaded fellow was grinning as he said, ‘Aggie, she’ll laugh her head off when she knows ’twas me who carried the Mallen girl down from the hills. “Barney Moorhead,” she’ll say, “’twould have to be you.” Oh, Aggie’ll get a laugh over this, right sure she will.
‘Oh, no need for that, sir, ’twas a pleasure, an’ I don’t want payin’ for pleasure. Ain’t every morning I get the chance to carry a young lady over the mountains, or the hills, or over a hummock for that matter. It’s me should be payin’ gate fee. Mornin’ to you, sir.’ At this he turned about and stalked slowly away.
The farm hand, looking apprehensively from the straight back toward the young master, said as if pleading the other man’s cause, ‘He’s very strong is Barney, sir; but he holds to be no man’s man; ’tis with the wrestlin’ like, master. He meant no offence.’
‘And there was none taken. What is your name again?’
‘Cousins, sir; I’m…I’m on your farm.’
‘Yes, yes, I’ve seen you. Yes, yes, I know you. Thank you, Cousins, thank you. Perhaps…perhaps you’ll be able to pass on something to…to…what did he say his name was?’
‘Moorhead, sir, Barney Moorhead. And no, sir’—he gave a short sharp laugh now as he ended—‘not me, sir; ’twouldn’t be me, sir, that would pass anythin’ on to Barney. No, as he said, sir, he don’t want nothin’, not Barney. I’m glad she’s found, sir. I’ll skip back to the Hall and tell ’em, they’ll bring the men in for some of them have been out since early on. I was out lookin’ meself when I came across Barney. ’Twas fortunate-like that I did.’
‘Yes, indeed it was. Thank you, Cousins.’
‘Very welcome, sir. Good mornin’ to you.’
‘Good morning.’ He went back into the kitchen, stood a moment by the table, drew in a long breath, then went slowly, walking like a sick man himself, toward the sitting room.
He hadn’t entered the doorway before Miss Brigmore came swiftly to him, saying, ‘Oh! Dan, thank God. But she’s ill, very ill. We must get a doctor quickly.’
‘I know, I’ll see to it right away.’
‘How can I thank you?’ She was gripping his hands.
‘By getting her better.’
‘Oh yes, yes; with God’s help we’ll get her better. But she…she’s so cold, her body’s like a piece of ice. Where did you find her?’
‘Not so far away, up in an old lead working, just…just inside. But I couldn’t get her down myself. That…that young fellow carried her. We have him to thank really. If she had been left any longer out there she must have died.’
‘Who…who was he? I’ve never seen him before.’
‘He said his name was Moorhead, Barney Moorhead.’
‘Moorhead…Moorhead.’ She repeated the word to herself. There was only one Moorhead hereabouts and she lived over near Studdon. She was that dreadful, dreadful woman, Aggie Moorhead, the woman who had helped to clean the Hall before the Benshams took it, the woman Thomas used to meet on the road, the woman whom he chose to satisfy his need and then thought he was doing so, but in the confusion of the storm and the blackness of the barn he had raped Barbara’s mother instead with the result that she lost the will to live, and upon the birth of her daughter she had voluntarily released her hold on life.
In some strange way she too had lost her life, for from the moment she had taken the baby Barbara into her arms, every motion, every thought and action became centred around the child, then the young girl, and more so, if that were possible, around the young woman.
Life was strange, very strange in that it should fall to one of Aggie Moorhead’s illegitimate offspring to carry Barbara to safety. She had the odd fancy that someone somewhere was laughing at the word illegitimate. Perhaps it was herself and she was going insane, and she would not be at all surprised at that. But enough of herself for the present; her child was back. Oh! her child was back.
She almost pushed Dan toward the door, saying ‘Ride, ride yourself and bring the doctor will you, will you please?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ll do that, Brigie, right away.’ As he reached the door she actually ran to him and gripped his hands again and said, ‘Oh! Dan, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for finding her; and it’s because you didn’t give up hope, you believed. But you look so tired, are you all right, are you fit to ride?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m all right, Brigie.’
He left her without any further words and she watched him for a moment as she thought, And I have never really liked him.
Six
‘You mean to leave then?’ John looked at Dan with a sadness in his face.
‘Yes.’
‘What about if she doesn’t have you?’
‘Well’—Dan paused—‘I’ll…I’ll go in any case, I’ll have to. But I suppose I’ll come back sooner than I would have done.’
‘Does she know how you feel?’
‘No. No, I shouldn’t think so. She only sees me as someone kind and attentive; I’m the only one besides Brigie and Mary she’s seen in weeks: When I asked if she’d like to see Katie she became agitated.’
‘How did you make that out, when she doesn’t speak?’
‘Oh, just something in her face.’
‘She doesn’t attempt to talk on her fingers?’
‘No, she just lies there.’
‘But she knows what’s going on?’
‘I don’t really know, but there’s a keenness in her look as if she were talking with her eyes.’
‘Does Dad know how you feel about her?’
‘Not from me he doesn’t but…but from his reactions, letting me stay down there those first two weeks, and sending me off early on a Friday, he might have guessed. On the other hand, he just might want me out of the way, my absence is less of a handicap than my presence, I think.’
‘Nonsense! You’re getting on splendidly; and you’re handling number two shop very well. They like you, all of them, and there’s more than a few hard cases among that lot.’
Dan laughed gently now as he said, ‘You might change your tune if I were to stay on, because then I’d likely join Katie, and you’d have a pair of agitators to contend with. It’ll be funny, you know, if she ever marries Willy, because he’s moving away from workers into management, he’s aping the boss’ outlook—you can hear it in the new tone he’s adopted, and see it in the cock of his head—while she’s going the other way, defending the downtrodden: higher wages, shorter hours, water in the houses, and closets; full-time school for all children. By! I can see the sparks flying if those two ever make a match of it.�
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‘Oh, I don’t know.’ John shook his head. ‘I think they’ll be well suited that way. But I might as well tell you, as much as I like Willy, I wish she had set her sights on someone else, it’s going to be awkward. Jenny would accept the situation but old Pearson’s bristles’ll rise when he hears of it, and there’ll be a large family conference, no doubt of it.’
Dan laughed and repeated, ‘No doubt of it.’ Then as he made his way through the overcrowded furniture in the sitting room toward the door, John said, ‘If I don’t see you in the morning give Brigie my regards, and…and convey to Barbara I’m thinking of her.’
Dan paused at the open door and looked over his shoulder, saying, ‘Yes, yes, I will, John.’ Then his head jerked round as his father’s voice came from across the hall, saying, ‘Here a minute, lad.’
Harry was beckoning him from outside the room that was termed the office, and when he reached him he said, ‘I’ve just been thinkin’, I’ve a mind to go down with you the morrow.’
‘Oh! Good, good.’
‘Aye, aye. Come in a minute.’ He went into the room.
Dan followed him and he stood by the side of a long littered ornate ugly desk as Harry dropped heavily into the leather chair behind it, and when his father didn’t immediately speak, Dan asked, ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘No, no.’ Harry began to sort some papers in front of him; then leaning back he said, ‘Well, nothing that can’t be put right. It’s the house, the Hall; I’m in two minds about keepin’ it on. Brooks and Mrs Kenley appear to be waging their own private war down there, an’ there’s no arbitrator sort of to keep things on an even keel since Brigie’s been so occupied, and the way things are shapin’ it looks as if she could be occupied forevermore. I want to ask you’—he nodded his head slowly now—‘and I want your honest opinion, do you think Barbara will ever really get her senses back?’
The Mallen Girl Page 22
