Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor
thee all about it, and how to come out harmless, if I find thy victuals
good, and no delay in serving them.”
“We do our best, sir, without bargain,” said I, “to please our
visitors.”
But when my mother saw that parchment (for we could not keep it from
her) she fell away into her favourite bed of stock gilly-flowers, which
she had been tending; and when we brought her round again, did nothing
but exclaim against the wickedness of the age and people. “It was
useless to tell her; she knew what it was, and so should all the parish
know. The King had heard what her son was, how sober, and quiet, and
diligent, and the strongest young man in England; and being himself such
a reprobate--God forgive her for saying so--he could never rest till
he got poor Johnny, and made him as dissolute as himself. And if he did
that”--here mother went off into a fit of crying; and Annie minded her
face, while Lizzie saw that her gown was in comely order.
But the character of the King improved, when Master Jeremy Stickles
(being really moved by the look of it, and no bad man after all) laid it
clearly before my mother that the King on his throne was unhappy, until
he had seen John Ridd. That the fame of John had gone so far, and his
size, and all his virtues--that verily by the God who made him, the King
was overcome with it.
Then mother lay back in her garden chair, and smiled upon the whole of
us, and most of all on Jeremy; looking only shyly on me, and speaking
through some break of tears. “His Majesty shall have my John; His
Majesty is very good: but only for a fortnight. I want no titles for
him. Johnny is enough for me; and Master John for the working men.”
Now though my mother was so willing that I should go to London,
expecting great promotion and high glory for me, I myself was deeply
gone into the pit of sorrow. For what would Lorna think of me? Here was
the long month just expired, after worlds of waiting; there would be her
lovely self, peeping softly down the glen, and fearing to encourage me;
yet there would be nobody else, and what an insult to her! Dwelling upon
this, and seeing no chance of escape from it, I could not find one wink
of sleep; though Jeremy Stickles (who slept close by) snored loud enough
to spare me some. For I felt myself to be, as it were, in a place of
some importance; in a situation of trust, I may say; and bound not to
depart from it. For who could tell what the King might have to say to
me about the Doones--and I felt that they were at the bottom of this
strange appearance--or what His Majesty might think, if after receiving
a message from him (trusty under so many seals) I were to violate
his faith in me as a churchwarden's son, and falsely spread his words
abroad?
Perhaps I was not wise in building such a wall of scruples.
Nevertheless, all that was there, and weighed upon me heavily. And at
last I made up my mind to this, that even Lorna must not know the reason
of my going, neither anything about it; but that she might know I was
gone a long way from home, and perhaps be sorry for it. Now how was I to
let her know even that much of the matter, without breaking compact?
Puzzling on this, I fell asleep, after the proper time to get up; nor
was I to be seen at breakfast time; and mother (being quite strange to
that) was very uneasy about it. But Master Stickles assured her that the
King's writ often had that effect, and the symptom was a good one.
“Now, Master Stickles, when must we start?” I asked him, as he lounged
in the yard gazing at our turkey poults picking and running in the sun
to the tune of their father's gobble. “Your horse was greatly foundered,
sir, and is hardly fit for the road to-day; and Smiler was sledding
yesterday all up the higher Cleve; and none of the rest can carry me.”
“In a few more years,” replied the King's officer, contemplating me with
much satisfaction; “'twill be a cruelty to any horse to put thee on his
back, John.”
Master Stickles, by this time, was quite familiar with us, calling
me “Jack,” and Eliza “Lizzie,” and what I liked the least of all, our
pretty Annie “Nancy.”
“That will be as God pleases, sir,” I answered him, rather sharply; “and
the horse that suffers will not be thine. But I wish to know when we
must start upon our long travel to London town. I perceive that the
matter is of great despatch and urgency.”
“To be sure, so it is, my son. But I see a yearling turkey there, him
I mean with the hop in his walk, who (if I know aught of fowls) would
roast well to-morrow. Thy mother must have preparation: it is no more
than reasonable. Now, have that turkey killed to-night (for his fatness
makes me long for him), and we will have him for dinner to-morrow, with,
perhaps, one of his brethren; and a few more collops of red deer's flesh
for supper, and then on the Friday morning, with the grace of God, we
will set our faces to the road, upon His Majesty's business.”
“Nay, but good sir,” I asked with some trembling, so eager was I to see
Lorna; “if His Majesty's business will keep till Friday, may it not keep
until Monday? We have a litter of sucking-pigs, excellently choice and
white, six weeks old, come Friday. There be too many for the sow, and
one of them needeth roasting. Think you not it would be a pity to leave
the women to carve it?”
“My son Jack,” replied Master Stickles, “never was I in such quarters
yet: and God forbid that I should be so unthankful to Him as to hurry
away. And now I think on it, Friday is not a day upon which pious people
love to commence an enterprise. I will choose the young pig to-morrow at
noon, at which time they are wont to gambol; and we will celebrate his
birthday by carving him on Friday. After that we will gird our loins,
and set forth early on Saturday.”
Now this was little better to me than if we had set forth at once.
Sunday being the very first day upon which it would be honourable for me
to enter Glen Doone. But though I tried every possible means with Master
Jeremy Stickles, offering him the choice for dinner of every beast
that was on the farm, he durst not put off our departure later than the
Saturday. And nothing else but love of us and of our hospitality would
have so persuaded him to remain with us till then. Therefore now my only
chance of seeing Lorna, before I went, lay in watching from the cliff
and espying her, or a signal from her.
This, however, I did in vain, until my eyes were weary and often would
delude themselves with hope of what they ached for. But though I lay
hidden behind the trees upon the crest of the stony fall, and waited
so quiet that the rabbits and squirrels played around me, and even the
keen-eyed weasel took me for a trunk of wood--it was all as one; no cast
of colour changed the white stone, whose whiteness now was hateful to
me; nor did wreath or skirt of maiden break the loneliness of the vale.
CHAPTER XXIV
A SAFE PASS FOR KING'S MESSENGER
A journey to London seemed to us in those bygone days as hazardous and
dark an adventure as could be forced on any man. I mean, of course,
a poor man; for to a great nobleman, with ever so many outriders,
attendants, and retainers, the risk was not so great, unless the
highwaymen knew of their coming beforehand, and so combined against
them. To a poor man, however, the risk was not so much from those
gentlemen of the road as from the more ignoble footpads, and the
landlords of the lesser hostels, and the loose unguarded soldiers, over
and above the pitfalls and the quagmires of the way; so that it was hard
to settle, at the first outgoing whether a man were wise to pray more
for his neck or for his head.
But nowadays it is very different. Not that highway-men are scarce, in
this the reign of our good Queen Anne; for in truth they thrive as
well as ever, albeit they deserve it not, being less upright and
courteous--but that the roads are much improved, and the growing use
of stage-waggons (some of which will travel as much as forty miles in a
summer day) has turned our ancient ideas of distance almost upside down;
and I doubt whether God be pleased with our flying so fast away from
Him. However, that is not my business; nor does it lie in my mouth to
speak very strongly upon the subject, seeing how much I myself have done
towards making of roads upon Exmoor.
To return to my story (and, in truth, I lose that road too often), it
would have taken ten King's messengers to get me away from Plover's
Barrows without one goodbye to Lorna, but for my sense of the trust
and reliance which His Majesty had reposed in me. And now I felt most
bitterly how the very arrangements which seemed so wise, and indeed
ingenious, may by the force of events become our most fatal obstacles.
For lo! I was blocked entirely from going to see Lorna; whereas
we should have fixed it so that I as well might have the power of
signalling my necessity.
It was too late now to think of that; and so I made up my mind at last
to keep my honour on both sides, both to the King and to the maiden,
although I might lose everything except a heavy heart for it. And
indeed, more hearts than mine were heavy; for when it came to the tug of
parting, my mother was like, and so was Annie, to break down altogether.
But I bade them be of good cheer, and smiled in the briskest manner upon
them, and said that I should be back next week as one of His Majesty's
greatest captains, and told them not to fear me then. Upon which they
smiled at the idea of ever being afraid of me, whatever dress I might
have on; and so I kissed my hand once more, and rode away very bravely.
But bless your heart, I could no more have done so than flown all the
way to London if Jeremy Stickles had not been there.
And not to take too much credit to myself in this matter, I must confess
that when we were come to the turn in the road where the moor begins,
and whence you see the last of the yard, and the ricks and the poultry
round them and can (by knowing the place) obtain a glance of the kitchen
window under the walnut-tree, it went so hard with me just here that I
even made pretence of a stone in ancient Smiler's shoe, to dismount, and
to bend my head awhile. Then, knowing that those I had left behind would
be watching to see the last of me, and might have false hopes of my
coming back, I mounted again with all possible courage, and rode after
Jeremy Stickles.
Jeremy, seeing how much I was down, did his best to keep me up with
jokes, and tales, and light discourse, until, before we had ridden a
league, I began to long to see the things he was describing. The air,
the weather, and the thoughts of going to a wondrous place, added to
the fine company--at least so Jeremy said it was--of a man who knew all
London, made me feel that I should be ungracious not to laugh a little.
And being very simple then I laughed no more a little, but something
quite considerable (though free from consideration) at the strange
things Master Stickles told me, and his strange way of telling them.
And so we became very excellent friends, for he was much pleased with my
laughing.
Not wishing to thrust myself more forward than need be in this
narrative, I have scarcely thought it becoming or right to speak of my
own adornments. But now, what with the brave clothes I had on, and the
better ones still that were packed up in the bag behind the saddle,
it is almost beyond me to forbear saying that I must have looked very
pleasing. And many a time I wished, going along, that Lorna could only
be here and there, watching behind a furze-bush, looking at me, and
wondering how much my clothes had cost. For mother would have no