Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor
Ordnance-yards. But I fear that bold rogue would ride through all of
you, and laugh at your worship's beards, by George.'
“'But what shall us do?' Squire Maunder axed; 'I vear there be no oil
here.'
“'Discharge your pieces, gentlemen, and let the men do the same; or at
least let us try to discharge them, and load again with fresh powder. It
is the fog of the morning hath spoiled the priming. That rogue is not
in sight yet: but God knows we must not be asleep with him, or what will
His Majesty say to me, if we let him slip once more?'
“'Excellent, wondrous well said, good sir,' Squire Maunder answered him;
'I never should have thought of that now. Bill Blacksmith, tell all the
men to be ready to shoot up into the air, directly I give the word. Now,
are you ready there, Bill?'
“'All ready, your worship,' saith Bill, saluting like a soldier.
“'Then, one, two, dree, and shutt!' cries Squire Maunder, standing up in
the irons of his stirrups.
“Thereupon they all blazed out, and the noise of it went all round the
hills; with a girt thick cloud arising, and all the air smelling of
powder. Before the cloud was gone so much as ten yards on the wind,
the gentleman on the cue-bald horse shuts up his face like a pair of
nut-cracks, as wide as it was long before, and out he pulls two girt
pistols longside of zaddle, and clap'th one to Squire Maunder's head,
and tother to Sir Richard Blewitt's.
“'Hand forth your money and all your warrants,' he saith like a clap of
thunder; 'gentlemen, have you now the wit to apprehend Tom Faggus?'
“Squire Maunder swore so that he ought to be fined; but he pulled out
his purse none the slower for that, and so did Sir Richard Blewitt.
“'First man I see go to load a gun, I'll gi'e 'un the bullet to do it
with,' said Tom; for you see it was him and no other, looking quietly
round upon all of them. Then he robbed all the rest of their warships,
as pleasant as might be; and he saith, 'Now, gentlemen, do your duty:
serve your warrants afore you imprison me'; with that he made them give
up all the warrants, and he stuck them in the band of his hat, and then
he made a bow with it.
“'Good morning to your warships now, and a merry Christmas all of
you! And the merrier both for rich and poor, when gentlemen see their
almsgiving. Lest you deny yourselves the pleasure, I will aid your
warships. And to save you the trouble of following me, when your guns be
loaded--this is my strawberry mare, gentlemen, only with a little cream
on her. Gentlemen all, in the name of the King, I thank you.'
“All this while he was casting their money among the poor folk by the
handful; and then he spak kaindly to the red mare, and wor over the back
of the hill in two zeconds, and best part of two maile away, I reckon,
afore ever a gun wor loaded.” *
* The truth of this story is well established by first-rate tradition.
CHAPTER XL
TWO FOOLS TOGETHER
That story of John Fry's, instead of causing any amusement, gave us
great disquietude; not only because it showed that Tom Faggus could not
resist sudden temptation and the delight of wildness, but also that we
greatly feared lest the King's pardon might be annulled, and all his
kindness cancelled, by a reckless deed of that sort. It was true (as
Annie insisted continually, even with tears, to wear in her arguments)
that Tom had not brought away anything, except the warrants, which were
of no use at all, after receipt of the pardon; neither had he used any
violence, except just to frighten people; but could it be established,
even towards Christmas-time, that Tom had a right to give alms, right
and left, out of other people's money?
Dear Annie appeared to believe that it could; saying that if the rich
continually chose to forget the poor, a man who forced them to remember,
and so to do good to themselves and to others, was a public benefactor,
and entitled to every blessing. But I knew, and so Lizzie knew--John Fry
being now out of hearing--that this was not sound argument. For, if it
came to that, any man might take the King by the throat, and make him
cast away among the poor the money which he wanted sadly for Her Grace
the Duchess, and the beautiful Countess, of this, and of that. Lizzie,
of course, knew nothing about His Majesty's diversions, which were not
fit for a young maid's thoughts; but I now put the form of the argument
as it occurred to me.
Therefore I said, once for all (and both my sisters always listened when
I used the deep voice from my chest):
“Tom Faggus hath done wrong herein; wrong to himself, and to our Annie.
All he need have done was to show his pardon, and the magistrates would
have rejoiced with him. He might have led a most godly life, and have
been respected by everybody; and knowing how brave Tom is, I thought
that he would have done as much. Now if I were in love with a maid”--I
put it thus for the sake of poor Lizzie--“never would I so imperil my
life, and her fortune in life along with me, for the sake of a poor
diversion. A man's first duty is to the women, who are forced to hang
upon him”--
“Oh, John, not that horrible word,” cried Annie, to my great surprise,
and serious interruption; “oh, John, any word but that!” And she burst
forth crying terribly.
“What word, Lizzie? What does the wench mean?” I asked, in the saddest
vexation; seeing no good to ask Annie at all, for she carried on most
dreadfully.
“Don't you know, you stupid lout?” said Lizzie, completing my
wonderment, by the scorn of her quicker intelligence; “if you don't
know, axe about?”
And with that, I was forced to be content; for Lizzie took Annie in such
a manner (on purpose to vex me, as I could see) with her head drooping
down, and her hair coming over, and tears and sobs rising and falling,
to boot, without either order or reason, that seeing no good for a
man to do (since neither of them was Lorna), I even went out into the
courtyard, and smoked a pipe, and wondered what on earth is the meaning
of women.
Now in this I was wrong and unreasonable (as all women will
acknowledge); but sometimes a man is so put out, by the way they take
on about nothing, that he really cannot help thinking, for at least
a minute, that women are a mistake for ever, and hence are for ever
mistaken. Nevertheless I could not see that any of these great thoughts
and ideas applied at all to my Lorna; but that she was a different
being; not woman enough to do anything bad, yet enough of a woman for
man to adore.
And now a thing came to pass which tested my adoration pretty sharply,
inasmuch as I would far liefer faced Carver Doone and his father, nay,
even the roaring lion himself with his hoofs and flaming nostrils, than
have met, in cold blood, Sir Ensor Doone, the founder of all the colony,
and the fear of the very fiercest.
But that I was forced to do at this time, and in the manner following.
When I went up one morning to look for my seven rooks' nests, behold
there were but six to be seen; for the topmost of them all was gone,
and the most conspicuous. I looked, and looked, and rubbed my eyes, and
turned to try them by other sights; and then I looked again; yes, there
could be no doubt about it; the signal was made for me to come, because
my love was in danger. For me to enter the valley now, during the broad
daylight, could have brought no comfort, but only harm to the maiden,
and certain death to myself. Yet it was more than I could do to keep
altogether at distance; therefore I ran to the nearest place where I
could remain unseen, and watched the glen from the wooded height, for
hours and hours, impatiently.
However, no impatience of mine made any difference in the scene upon
which I was gazing. In the part of the valley which I could see, there
was nothing moving, except the water, and a few stolen cows, going sadly
along, as if knowing that they had no honest right there. It sank very
heavily into my heart, with all the beds of dead leaves around it, and
there was nothing I cared to do, except blow on my fingers, and long for
more wit.
For a frost was beginning, which made a great difference to Lorna and to
myself, I trow; as well as to all the five million people who dwell in
this island of England; such a frost as never I saw before,* neither
hope ever to see again; a time when it was impossible to milk a cow for
icicles, or for a man to shave some of his beard (as I liked to do for
Lorna's sake, because she was so smooth) without blunting his razor
on hard gray ice. No man could “keep yatt” (as we say), even though he
abandoned his work altogether, and thumped himself, all on the chest and
the front, till his frozen hands would have been bleeding except for the
cold that kept still all his veins.
* If John Ridd lived until the year 1740 (as so strong a man
was bound to do), he must have seen almost a harder frost;
and perhaps it put an end to him; for then he would be some
fourscore years old. But tradition makes him “keep yatt,” as
he says, up to fivescore years.--Ed. L.D.
However, at present there was no frost, although for a fortnight
threatening; and I was too young to know the meaning of the way the dead
leaves hung, and the worm-casts prickling like women's combs, and
the leaden tone upon everything, and the dead weight of the sky. Will
Watcombe, the old man at Lynmouth, who had been half over the world
almost, and who talked so much of the Gulf-stream, had (as I afterwards
called to mind) foretold a very bitter winter this year. But no one
would listen to him because there were not so many hips and haws as
usual; whereas we have all learned from our grandfathers that Providence
never sends very hard winters, without having furnished a large supply
of berries for the birds to feed upon.
It was lucky for me, while I waited here, that our very best sheep-dog,
old Watch, had chosen to accompany me that day. For otherwise I must
have had no dinner, being unpersuaded, even by that, to quit my survey
of the valley. However, by aid of poor Watch, I contrived to obtain a
supply of food; for I sent him home with a note to Annie fastened upon
his chest; and in less than an hour back he came, proud enough to wag
his tail off, with his tongue hanging out from the speed of his journey,
and a large lump of bread and of bacon fastened in a napkin around his
neck. I had not told my sister, of course, what was toward; for why
should I make her anxious?
When it grew towards dark, I was just beginning to prepare for my
circuit around the hills; but suddenly Watch gave a long low growl; I
kept myself close as possible, and ordered the dog to be silent, and
presently saw a short figure approaching from a thickly-wooded hollow on
the left side of my hiding-place. It was the same figure I had seen once
before in the moonlight, at Plover's Barrows; and proved, to my great
delight, to be the little maid Gwenny Carfax. She started a moment, at
seeing me, but more with surprise than fear; and then she laid both her
hands upon mine, as if she had known me for twenty years.
“Young man,” she said, “you must come with me. I was gwain' all the
way to fetch thee. Old man be dying; and her can't die, or at least her
won't, without first considering thee.”
“Considering me!” I cried; “what can Sir Ensor Doone want with
considering me? Has Mistress Lorna told him?”
“All concerning thee, and thy doings; when she knowed old man were so
near his end. That vexed he was about thy low blood, a' thought her
would come to life again, on purpose for to bate 'ee. But after all,
there can't be scarcely such bad luck as that. Now, if her strook thee,