Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor
Doones were likely to begin their onset there. For they had a pleasant
custom, when they visited farm-houses, of lighting themselves towards
picking up anything they wanted, or stabbing the inhabitants, by first
creating a blaze in the rick yard. And though our ricks were all now of
mere straw (except indeed two of prime clover-hay), and although on
the top they were so wet that no firebrands might hurt them; I was both
unwilling to have them burned, and fearful that they might kindle, if
well roused up with fire upon the windward side.
By the bye, these Doones had got the worst of this pleasant trick
one time. For happening to fire the ricks of a lonely farm called
Yeanworthy, not far above Glenthorne, they approached the house to get
people's goods, and to enjoy their terror. The master of the farm was
lately dead, and had left, inside the clock-case, loaded, the great long
gun, wherewith he had used to sport at the ducks and the geese on the
shore. Now Widow Fisher took out this gun, and not caring much what
became of her (for she had loved her husband dearly), she laid it upon
the window-sill, which looked upon the rick-yard; and she backed up the
butt with a chest of oak drawers, and she opened the window a little
back, and let the muzzle out on the slope. Presently five or six fine
young Doones came dancing a reel (as their manner was) betwixt her and
the flaming rick. Upon which she pulled the trigger with all the force
of her thumb, and a quarter of a pound of duck-shot went out with a
blaze on the dancers. You may suppose what their dancing was, and their
reeling 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 ditch
next day; but the others were set upon their horses, and carried home
on a path of blood. And strange to say, they never avenged this very
dreadful injury; but having heard that a woman had fired this desperate
shot among them, they said that she ought to be a Doone, and inquired
how old she was.
Now I had not been so very long waiting in our mow-yard, with my best
gun ready, and a big club by me, before a heaviness of sleep began to
creep upon me. The flow of water was in my ears, and in my eyes a hazy
spreading, and upon my brain a closure, as a cobbler sews a vamp up. So
I leaned back in the clover-rick, and the dust of the seed and the smell
came round me, without any trouble; and I dozed about Lorna, just once
or twice, and what she had said about new-mown hay; and then back went
my 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, even
such as I would have sworn to an hour ago or less. But if you had been
in the water as I had, ay, and had long fight with it, after a good
day's work, and then great anxiety afterwards, and brain-work (which is
not fair for me), and upon that a stout supper, mayhap you would not be
so hard on my sleep; though you felt it your duty to wake me.
CHAPTER XLIX
MAIDEN SENTINELS ARE BEST
It was not likely that the outlaws would attack out premises until some
time after the moon was risen; because it would be too dangerous to
cross the flooded valleys in the darkness of the night. And but for this
consideration, I must have striven harder against the stealthy
approach of slumber. But even so, it was very foolish to abandon watch,
especially in such as I, who sleep like any dormouse. Moreover, I had
chosen the very worst place in the world for such employment, with a
goodly chance of awakening in a bed of solid fire.
And so it might have been, nay, it must have been, but for Lorna's
vigilance. Her light hand upon my arm awoke me, not too readily; and
leaping up, I seized my club, and prepared to knock down somebody.
“Who's that?” I cried; “stand back, I say, and let me have fair chance
at you.”
“Are you going to knock me down, dear John?” replied the voice I loved
so well; “I am sure I should never get up again, after one blow from
you, John.”
“My darling, is it you?” I cried; “and breaking all your orders? Come
back into the house at once: and nothing on your head, dear!”
“How could I sleep, while at any moment you might be killed beneath my
window? And now is the time of real danger; for men can see to travel.”
I saw at once the truth of this. The moon was high and clearly lighting
all the watered valleys. To sleep any longer might be death, not only to
myself, but all.
“The man on guard at the back of the house is fast asleep,” she
continued; “Gwenny, who let me out, and came with me, has heard him
snoring for two hours. I think the women ought to be the watch, because
they have had no travelling. Where do you suppose little Gwenny is?”
“Surely not gone to Glen Doone?” I was not sure, however: for I could
believe almost anything of the Cornish maiden's hardihood.
“No,” replied Lorna, “although she wanted even to do that. But of course
I would not hear of it, on account of the swollen waters. But she is
perched on yonder tree, which commands the Barrow valley. She says that
they are almost sure to cross the streamlet there; and now it is so wide
and large, that she can trace it in the moonlight, half a mile beyond
her. If they cross, she is sure to see them, and in good time to let us
know.”
“What a shame,” I cried, “that the men should sleep, and the maidens
be the soldiers! I will sit in that tree myself, and send little Gwenny
back to you. Go to bed, my best and dearest; I will take good care not
to sleep again.”
“Please not to send me away, dear John,” she answered very mournfully;
“you and I have been together through perils worse than this. I shall
only be more timid, and more miserable, indoors.”
“I cannot let you stay here,” I said; “it is altogether impossible. Do
you suppose that I can fight, with you among the bullets, Lorna? If this
is the way you mean to take it, we had better go both to the apple-room,
and lock ourselves in, and hide under the tiles, and let them burn all
the rest of the premises.”
At this idea Lorna laughed, as I could see by the moonlight; and then
she said,--
“You are right, John. I should only do more harm than good: and of all
things I hate fighting most, and disobedience next to it. Therefore I
will go indoors, although I cannot go to bed. But promise me one thing,
dearest John. You will keep yourself out of the way, now won't you, as
much as you can, for my sake?”
“Of that you may be quite certain, Lorna. I will shoot them all through
the hay-ricks.”
“That is right, dear,” she answered, never doubting but what I could do
it; “and then they cannot see you, you know. But don't think of climbing
that tree, John; it is a great deal too dangerous. It is all very well
for Gwenny; she has no bones to break.”
“None worth breaking, you mean, I suppose. Very well; I will not climb
the tree, for I should defeat my own purpose, I fear; being such a
conspicuous object. Now go indoors, darling, without more words. The
more you linger, the more I shall keep you.”
She laughed her own bright laugh at this, and only said, “God keep you,
love!” and then away she tripped across the yard, with the step I loved
to watch so. And thereupon I shouldered arms, and resolved to tramp till
morning. For I was vexed at my own neglect, and that Lorna should have
to right it.
But before I had been long on duty, making the round of the ricks and
stables, and hailing Gwenny now and then from the bottom of her tree,
a short wide figure stole towards me, in and out the shadows, and I saw
that it was no other than the little maid herself, and that she bore
some tidings.
“Ten on 'em crossed the watter down yonner,” said Gwenny, putting her
hand to her mouth, and seeming to regard it as good news rather than
otherwise: “be arl craping up by hedgerow now. I could shutt dree on 'em
from the bar of the gate, if so be I had your goon, young man.”
“There is no time to lose, Gwenny. Run to the house and fetch Master
Stickles, and all the men; while I stay here, and watch the rick-yard.”
Perhaps I was wrong in heeding the ricks at such a time as that;
especially as only the clover was of much importance. But it seemed
to me like a sort of triumph that they should be even able to boast of
having fired our mow-yard. Therefore I stood in a nick of the clover,
whence we had cut some trusses, with my club in hand, and gun close by.
The robbers rode into our yard as coolly as if they had been invited,
having lifted the gate from the hinges first on account of its being
fastened. Then they actually opened our stable-doors, and turned our
honest horses out, and put their own rogues in the place of them. At
this my breath was quite taken away; for we think so much of our horses.
By this time I could see our troopers, waiting in the shadow of the
house, round the corner from where the Doones were, and expecting the
order to fire. But Jeremy Stickles very wisely kept them in readiness,
until the enemy should advance upon them.
“Two of you lazy fellows go,” it was the deep voice of Carver Doone,
“and make us a light, to cut their throats by. Only one thing, once
again. If any man touches Lorna, I will stab him where he stands. She
belongs to me. There are two other young damsels here, whom you may take
away if you please. And the mother, I hear, is still comely. Now for our
rights. We have borne too long the insolence of these yokels. Kill every
man, and every child, and burn the cursed place down.”
As he spoke thus blasphemously, I set my gun against his breast; and
by the light buckled from his belt, I saw the little “sight” of brass
gleaming alike upon either side, and the sleek round barrel glimmering.
The aim was sure as death itself. If I only drew the trigger (which
went very lightly) Carver Doone would breathe no more. And yet--will you
believe me?--I could not pull the trigger. Would to God that I had done
so!
For I never had taken human life, neither done bodily harm to man;
beyond the little bruises, and the trifling aches and pains, which
follow a good and honest bout in the wrestling ring. Therefore I
dropped my carbine, and grasped again my club, which seemed a more
straight-forward implement.
Presently two young men came towards me, bearing brands of resined hemp,
kindled from Carver's lamp. The foremost of them set his torch to the
rick within a yard of me, and smoke concealing me from him. I struck
him with a back-handed blow on the elbow, as he bent it; and I heard the
bone of his arm break, as clearly as ever I heard a twig snap. With a
roar of pain he fell on the ground, and his torch dropped there, and
singed him. The other man stood amazed at this, not having yet gained
sight of me; till I caught his firebrand from his hand, and struck it
into his countenance. With that he leaped at me; but I caught him, in a
manner learned from early wrestling, and snapped his collar-bone, as I
laid him upon the top of his comrade.
This little success so encouraged me, that I was half inclined to
advance, and challenge Carver Doone to meet me; but I bore in mind that
he would be apt to shoot me without ceremony; and what is the utmost of
human strength against the power of powder? Moreover, I remembered my
promise to sweet Lorna; and who would be left to defend her, if the
rogues got rid of me?
While I was hesitating thus (for I always continue to hesitate, except
in actual conflict), a blaze of fire lit up the house, and brown smoke
hung around it. Six of our men had let go at the Doones, by Jeremy
Stickles' order, as the villains came swaggering down in the moonlight