CHAPTER XXXVII
A VERY DESPERATE VENTURE
That the enterprise now resolved upon was far more dangerous than anyhitherto attempted by me, needs no further proof than this:--I went andmade my will at Porlock, with a middling honest lawyer there; not that Ihad much to leave, but that none could say how far the farm, and all thefarming stock, might depend on my disposition. It makes me smile when Iremember how particular I was, and how for the life of me I was puzzledto bequeath most part of my clothes, and hats, and things altogethermy own, to Lorna, without the shrewd old lawyer knowing who she was andwhere she lived. At last, indeed, I flattered myself that I had baffledold Tape's curiosity; but his wrinkled smile and his speech at partingmade me again uneasy.
'A very excellent will, young sir. An admirably just and virtuous will;all your effects to your nearest of kin; filial and fraternal dutythoroughly exemplified; nothing diverted to alien channels, except asmall token of esteem and reverence to an elderly lady, I presume: andwhich may or may not be valid, or invalid, on the ground of uncertainty,or the absence of any legal status on the part of the legatee. Ha, ha!Yes, yes! Few young men are so free from exceptionable entanglements.Two guineas is my charge, sir: and a rare good will for the money. Veryprudent of you, sir. Does you credit in every way. Well, well; we allmust die; and often the young before the old.'
Not only did I think two guineas a great deal too much money for aquarter of an hour's employment, but also I disliked particularly thewords with which he concluded; they sounded, from his grating voice,like the evil omen of a croaking raven. Nevertheless I still abode in myfixed resolve to go, and find out, if I died for it, what was become ofLorna. And herein I lay no claim to courage; the matter being simplya choice between two evils, of which by far the greater one was, ofcourse, to lose my darling.
The journey was a great deal longer to fetch around the Southern hills,and enter by the Doone-gate, than to cross the lower land and steal inby the water-slide. However, I durst not take a horse (for fear ofthe Doones who might be abroad upon their usual business), but startedbetimes in the evening, so as not to hurry, or waste any strength uponthe way. And thus I came to the robbers' highway, walking circumspectly,scanning the sky-line of every hill, and searching the folds of everyvalley, for any moving figure.
Although it was now well on towards dark, and the sun was down an houror so, I could see the robbers' road before me, in a trough of thewinding hills, where the brook ploughed down from the higher barrows,and the coving banks were roofed with furze. At present, there was noone passing, neither post nor sentinel, so far as I could descry; butI thought it safer to wait a little, as twilight melted into night;and then I crept down a seam of the highland, and stood upon theDoone-track.
As the road approached the entrance, it became more straight and strong,like a channel cut from rock, with the water brawling darkly along thenaked side of it. Not a tree or bush was left, to shelter a man frombullets: all was stern, and stiff, and rugged, as I could not helpperceiving, even through the darkness, and a smell as of churchyardmould, a sense of being boxed in and cooped, made me long to be outagain.
And here I was, or seemed to be, particularly unlucky; for as I drewnear the very entrance, lightly of foot and warily, the moon (which hadoften been my friend) like an enemy broke upon me, topping the eastwardridge of rock, and filling all the open spaces with the play of waveringlight. I shrank back into the shadowy quarter on the right side of theroad; and gloomily employed myself to watch the triple entrance, onwhich the moonlight fell askew.
All across and before the three rude and beetling archways hung afelled oak overhead, black, and thick, and threatening. This, as I heardbefore, could be let fall in a moment, so as to crush a score of men,and bar the approach of horses. Behind this tree, the rocky mouth wasspanned, as by a gallery with brushwood and piled timber, all upon aledge of stone, where thirty men might lurk unseen, and fire at anyinvader. From that rampart it would be impossible to dislodge them,because the rock fell sheer below them twenty feet, or it may be more;while overhead it towered three hundred, and so jutted over that nothingcould be cast upon them; even if a man could climb the height. Andthe access to this portcullis place--if I may so call it, being noportcullis there--was through certain rocky chambers known to thetenants only.
But the cleverest of their devices, and the most puzzling to an enemy,was that, instead of one mouth only, there were three to choose from,with nothing to betoken which was the proper access; all being prettymuch alike, and all unfenced and yawning. And the common rumour wasthat in times of any danger, when any force was known to be on muster intheir neighbourhood, they changed their entrance every day, and divertedthe other two, by means of sliding doors to the chasms and dark abysses.
Now I could see those three rough arches, jagged, black, and terrible;and I knew that only one of them could lead me to the valley; neithergave the river now any further guidance; but dived underground with asullen roar, where it met the cross-bar of the mountain. Having no meansat all of judging which was the right way of the three, and knowing thatthe other two would lead to almost certain death, in the ruggedness anddarkness,--for how could a man, among precipices and bottomless depthsof water, without a ray of light, have any chance to save his life?--Ido declare that I was half inclined to go away, and have done with it.
However, I knew one thing for certain, to wit, that the longer I stayeddebating the more would the enterprise pall upon me, and the less myrelish be. And it struck me that, in times of peace, the middle way wasthe likeliest; and the others diverging right and left in their fartherparts might be made to slide into it (not far from the entrance), at thepleasure of the warders. Also I took it for good omen that I remembered(as rarely happened) a very fine line in the Latin grammar, whoseemphasis and meaning is 'middle road is safest.'
Therefore, without more hesitation, I plunged into the middle way,holding a long ash staff before me, shodden at the end with iron.Presently I was in black darkness groping along the wall, and feeling adeal more fear than I wished to feel; especially when upon looking backI could no longer see the light, which I had forsaken. Then I stumbledover something hard, and sharp, and very cold, moreover so grievous tomy legs that it needed my very best doctrine and humour to forbear fromswearing, in the manner they use in London. But when I arose and feltit, and knew it to be a culverin, I was somewhat reassured thereby,inasmuch as it was not likely that they would plant this engine exceptin the real and true entrance.
Therefore I went on again, more painfully and wearily, and presentlyfound it to be good that I had received that knock, and borne it withsuch patience; for otherwise I might have blundered full upon thesentries, and been shot without more ado. As it was, I had barely timeto draw back, as I turned a corner upon them; and if their lanthorn hadbeen in its place, they could scarce have failed to descry me, unlessindeed I had seen the gleam before I turned the corner.
There seemed to be only two of them, of size indeed and stature as allthe Doones must be, but I need not have feared to encounter them both,had they been unarmed, as I was. It was plain, however, that each had along and heavy carbine, not in his hands (as it should have been), butstanding close beside him. Therefore it behoved me now to be exceedinglycareful, and even that might scarce avail, without luck in proportion.So I kept well back at the corner, and laid one cheek to the rockface, and kept my outer eye round the jut, in the wariest mode I couldcompass, watching my opportunity: and this is what I saw.
The two villains looked very happy--which villains have no right to be,but often are, meseemeth--they were sitting in a niche of rock, withthe lanthorn in the corner, quaffing something from glass measures, andplaying at push-pin, or shepherd's chess, or basset; or some trivialgame of that sort. Each was smoking a long clay pipe, quite of newLondon shape, I could see, for the shadow was thrown out clearly; andeach would laugh from time to time, as he fancied he got the better ofit. One was sitting with his knees up, and left hand on his thigh; and
this one had his back to me, and seemed to be the stouter. The otherleaned more against the rock, half sitting and half astraddle, andwearing leathern overalls, as if newly come from riding. I could see hisface quite clearly by the light of the open lanthorn, and a handsomeror a bolder face I had seldom, if ever, set eyes upon insomuch that itmade me very unhappy to think of his being so near my Lorna.
'How long am I to stand crouching here?' I asked of myself, at last,being tired of hearing them cry, 'score one,' 'score two,' 'No, by--, Charlie,' 'By --, I say it is, Phelps.' And yet my only chance ofslipping by them unperceived was to wait till they quarrelled more, andcame to blows about it. Presently, as I made up my mind to steal alongtowards them (for the cavern was pretty wide, just there), Charlie, orCharleworth Doone, the younger and taller man, reached forth his handto seize the money, which he swore he had won that time. Upon this,the other jerked his arm, vowing that he had no right to it; whereuponCharlie flung at his face the contents of the glass he was sipping,but missed him and hit the candle, which sputtered with a flare ofblue flame (from the strength perhaps of the spirit) and then went outcompletely. At this, one swore, and the other laughed; and before theyhad settled what to do, I was past them and round the corner.
And then, like a giddy fool as I was, I needs must give them astartler--the whoop of an owl, done so exactly, as John Fry had taughtme, and echoed by the roof so fearfully, that one of them dropped thetinder box; and the other caught up his gun and cocked it, at least asI judged by the sounds they made. And then, too late, I knew my madness,for if either of them had fired, no doubt but what all the village wouldhave risen and rushed upon me. However, as the luck of the matter went,it proved for my advantage; for I heard one say to the other,--
'Curse it, Charlie, what was that? It scared me so, I have dropped mybox; my flint is gone, and everything. Will the brimstone catch fromyour pipe, my lad?'
'My pipe is out, Phelps, ever so long. Damn it, I am not afraid of anowl, man. Give me the lanthorn, and stay here. I'm not half done withyou yet, my friend.'
'Well said, my boy, well said! Go straight to Carver's, mind you. Theother sleepy heads be snoring, as there is nothing up to-night. Nodallying now under Captain's window. Queen will have nought to say toyou; and Carver will punch your head into a new wick for your lanthorn.'
'Will he though? Two can play at that.' And so after some rude jests,and laughter, and a few more oaths, I heard Charlie (or at any ratesomebody) coming toward me, with a loose and not too sober footfall. Ashe reeled a little in his gait, and I would not move from his way oneinch, after his talk of Lorna, but only longed to grasp him (if commonsense permitted it), his braided coat came against my thumb, and hisleathern gaiters brushed my knee. If he had turned or noticed it, hewould have been a dead man in a moment; but his drunkenness saved him.
So I let him reel on unharmed; and thereupon it occurred to me that Icould have no better guide, passing as he would exactly where I wishedto be; that is to say under Lorna's window. Therefore I followed himwithout any especial caution and soon I had the pleasure of seeinghis form against the moonlit sky. Down a steep and winding path, witha handrail at the corners (such as they have at Ilfracombe), MasterCharlie tripped along--and indeed there was much tripping, and he musthave been an active fellow to recover as he did--and after him walked I,much hoping (for his own poor sake) that he might not turn and espy me.
But Bacchus (of whom I read at school, with great wonder about hismeaning--and the same I may say of Venus) that great deity preservedCharlie, his pious worshipper, from regarding consequences. So he ledme very kindly to the top of the meadow land, where the stream fromunderground broke forth, seething quietly with a little hiss of bubbles.Hence I had fair view and outline of the robbers' township, spreadwith bushes here and there, but not heavily overshadowed. The moon,approaching now the full, brought the forms in manner forth, clothingeach with character, as the moon (more than the sun) does, to an eyeaccustomed.
I knew that the Captain's house was first, both from what Lorna hadsaid of it, and from my mother's description, and now again from seeingCharlie halt there for a certain time, and whistle on his fingers, andhurry on, fearing consequence. The tune that he whistled was strange tome, and lingered in my ears, as having something very new and striking,and fantastic in it. And I repeated it softly to myself, while I markedthe position of the houses and the beauty of the village. For thestream, in lieu of any street, passing between the houses, and affordingperpetual change, and twinkling, and reflections moreover by its sleepymurmur soothing all the dwellers there, this and the snugness of theposition, walled with rock and spread with herbage, made it look, in thequiet moonlight, like a little paradise. And to think of all the inmatesthere, sleeping with good consciences, having plied their useful tradeof making others work for them, enjoying life without much labour, yetwith great renown.
Master Charlie went down the village, and I followed him carefully,keeping as much as possible in the shadowy places, and watching thewindows of every house, lest any light should be burning. As I passedSir Ensor's house, my heart leaped up, for I spied a window, higher thanthe rest above the ground, and with a faint light moving. This couldhardly fail to be the room wherein my darling lay; for here thatimpudent young fellow had gazed while he was whistling. And here mycourage grew tenfold, and my spirit feared no evil--for lo, if Lorna hadbeen surrendered to that scoundrel, Carver, she would not have been ather grandfather's house, but in Carver's accursed dwelling.
Warm with this idea, I hurried after Charleworth Doone, being resolvednot to harm him now, unless my own life required it. And while I watchedfrom behind a tree, the door of the farthest house was opened; and sureenough it was Carver's self, who stood bareheaded, and half undressed inthe doorway. I could see his great black chest, and arms, by the lightof the lamp he bore.
'Who wants me this time of night?' he grumbled, in a deep gruff voice;'any young scamp prowling after the maids shall have sore bones for histrouble.'
'All the fair maids are for thee, are they, Master Carver?' Charlieanswered, laughing; 'we young scamps must be well-content with coarserstuff than thou wouldst have.'
'Would have? Ay, and will have,' the great beast muttered angrily. 'Ibide my time; but not very long. Only one word for thy good, Charlie. Iwill fling thee senseless into the river, if ever I catch thy girl-facethere again.'
'Mayhap, Master Carver, it is more than thou couldst do. But I will notkeep thee; thou art not pleasant company to-night. All I want is a lightfor my lanthorn, and a glass of schnapps, if thou hast it.'
'What is become of thy light, then? Good for thee I am not on duty.'
'A great owl flew between me and Phelps, as we watched beside theculvern, and so scared was he at our fierce bright eyes that he fell andknocked the light out.'
'Likely tale, or likely lie, Charles! We will have the truth to-morrow.Here take thy light, and be gone with thee. All virtuous men are in bednow.'
'Then so will I be, and why art thou not? Ha, have I earned my schnappsnow?'
'If thou hast, thou hast paid a bad debt; there is too much in theealready. Be off! my patience is done with.'
Then he slammed the door in the young man's face, having kindled hislanthorn by this time: and Charlie went up to the watchplace again,muttering as he passed me, 'Bad look-out for all of us, when that surlyold beast is Captain. No gentle blood in him, no hospitality, not evenpleasant language, nor a good new oath in his frowsy pate! I've a mindto cut the whole of it; and but for the girls I would so.'
My heart was in my mouth, as they say, when I stood in the shade byLorna's window, and whispered her name gently. The house was of onestory only, as the others were, with pine-ends standing forth the stone,and only two rough windows upon that western side of it, and perhapsboth of them were Lorna's. The Doones had been their own builders, forno one should know their ins and outs; and of course their work wasclumsy. As for their windows, they stole them mostly from the housesround about. But though the w
indow was not very close, I might havewhispered long enough, before she would have answered me; frightened asshe was, no doubt by many a rude overture. And I durst not speakaloud because I saw another watchman posted on the western cliff, andcommanding all the valley. And now this man (having no companion fordrinking or for gambling) espied me against the wall of the house, andadvanced to the brink, and challenged me.
'Who are you there? Answer! One, two, three; and I fire at thee.'
The nozzle of his gun was pointed full upon me, as I could see, with themoonlight striking on the barrel; he was not more than fifty yards off,and now he began to reckon. Being almost desperate about it, I began towhistle, wondering how far I should get before I lost my windpipe:and as luck would have it, my lips fell into that strange tune Ihad practised last; the one I had heard from Charlie. My mouth wouldscarcely frame the notes, being parched with terror; but to my surprise,the man fell back, dropped his gun, and saluted. Oh, sweetest of allsweet melodies!
That tune was Carver Doone's passport (as I heard long afterwards),which Charleworth Doone had imitated, for decoy of Lorna. The sentineltook me for that vile Carver; who was like enough to be prowling there,for private talk with Lorna; but not very likely to shout forth hisname, if it might be avoided. The watchman, perceiving the dangerperhaps of intruding on Carver's privacy, not only retired along thecliff, but withdrew himself to good distance.
Meanwhile he had done me the kindest service; for Lorna came to thewindow at once, to see what the cause of the shout was, and drew backthe curtain timidly. Then she opened the rough lattice; and then shewatched the cliff and trees; and then she sighed very sadly.
'Oh, Lorna, don't you know me?' I whispered from the side, being afraidof startling her by appearing over suddenly.
Quick though she always was of thought, she knew me not from my whisper,and was shutting the window hastily when I caught it back, and showedmyself.
'John!' she cried, yet with sense enough not to speak aloud: 'oh, youmust be mad, John.'
'As mad as a March hare,' said I, 'without any news of my darling. Youknew I would come: of course you did.'
'Well, I thought, perhaps--you know: now, John, you need not eat myhand. Do you see they have put iron bars across?'
'To be sure. Do you think I should be contented, even with this lovelyhand, but for these vile iron bars. I will have them out before I go.Now, darling, for one moment--just the other hand, for a change, youknow.'
So I got the other, but was not honest; for I kept them both, and felttheir delicate beauty trembling, as I laid them to my heart.
'Oh, John, you will make me cry directly'--she had been crying longago--'if you go on in that way. You know we can never have one another;every one is against it. Why should I make you miserable? Try not tothink of me any more.'
'And will you try the same of me, Lorna?'
'Oh yes, John; if you agree to it. At least I will try to try it.'
'Then you won't try anything of the sort,' I cried with greatenthusiasm, for her tone was so nice and melancholy: 'the only thingwe will try to try, is to belong to one another. And if we do our best,Lorna, God alone can prevent us.'
She crossed herself, with one hand drawn free as I spoke so boldly;and something swelled in her little throat, and prevented her fromanswering.
'Now tell me,' I said; 'what means all this? Why are you so pent uphere? Why have you given me no token? Has your grandfather turnedagainst you? Are you in any danger?'
'My poor grandfather is very ill: I fear that he will not live long. TheCounsellor and his son are now the masters of the valley; and I darenot venture forth, for fear of anything they might do to me. When I wentforth, to signal for you, Carver tried to seize me; but I was too quickfor him. Little Gwenny is not allowed to leave the valley now; so thatI could send no message. I have been so wretched, dear, lest you shouldthink me false to you. The tyrants now make sure of me. You must watchthis house, both night and day, if you wish to save me. There is nothingthey would shrink from; if my poor grandfather--oh, I cannot bear tothink of myself, when I ought to think of him only; dying without a sonto tend him, or a daughter to shed a tear.'
'But surely he has sons enough; and a deal too many,' I was going tosay, but stopped myself in time: 'why do none of them come to him?'
'I know not. I cannot tell. He is a very strange old man; and few haveever loved him. He was black with wrath at the Counsellor, this veryafternoon--but I must not keep you here--you are much too brave, John;and I am much too selfish: there, what was that shadow?'
'Nothing more than a bat, darling, come to look for his sweetheart. Iwill not stay long; you tremble so: and yet for that very reason, howcan I leave you, Lorna?'
'You must--you must,' she answered; 'I shall die if they hurt you. Ihear the old nurse moving. Grandfather is sure to send for me. Keep backfrom the window.'
However, it was only Gwenny Carfax, Lorna's little handmaid: my darlingbrought her to the window and presented her to me, almost laughingthrough her grief.
'Oh, I am so glad, John; Gwenny, I am so glad you came. I have wantedlong to introduce you to my "young man," as you call him. It is ratherdark, but you can see him. I wish you to know him again, Gwenny.'
'Whoy!' cried Gwenny, with great amazement, standing on tiptoe to lookout, and staring as if she were weighing me: 'her be bigger nor anyDoone! Heared as her have bate our Cornish champion awrastling. 'Twadn'tfair play nohow: no, no; don't tell me, 'twadn't fair play nohow.'
'True enough, Gwenny,' I answered her; for the play had been very unfairindeed on the side of the Bodmin champion 'it was not a fair bout,little maid; I am free to acknowledge that.' By that answer, or ratherby the construction she put upon it, the heart of the Cornish girl waswon, more than by gold and silver.
'I shall knoo thee again, young man; no fear of that,' she answered,nodding with an air of patronage. 'Now, missis, gae on coortin', andI wall gae outside and watch for 'ee.' Though expressed not overdelicately, this proposal arose, no doubt, from Gwenny's sense ofdelicacy; and I was very thankful to her for taking her departure.
'She is the best little thing in the world,' said Lorna, softlylaughing; 'and the queerest, and the truest. Nothing will bribe heragainst me. If she seems to be on the other side, never, never doubther. Now no more of your "coortin'," John! I love you far too well forthat. Yes, yes, ever so much! If you will take a mean advantage of me.And as much as ever you like to imagine; and then you may double it,after that. Only go, do go, good John; kind, dear, darling John; if youlove me, go.'
'How can I go without settling anything?' I asked very sensibly. 'Howshall I know of your danger now? Hit upon something; you are so quick.Anything you can think of; and then I will go, and not frighten you.'
'I have been thinking long of something,' Lorna answered rapidly, withthat peculiar clearness of voice which made every syllable ring likemusic of a several note, 'you see that tree with the seven rooks' nestsbright against the cliffs there? Can you count them, from above, do youthink? From a place where you will be safe, dear'--
'No doubt, I can; or if I cannot, it will not take me long to find aspot, whence I can do it.'
'Gwenny can climb like any cat. She has been up there in the summer,watching the young birds, day by day, and daring the boys to touch them.There are neither birds, nor eggs there now, of course, and nothingdoing. If you see but six rooks' nests; I am in peril and want you. Ifyou see but five, I am carried off by Carver.'
'Good God!' said I, at the mere idea; in a tone which frightened Lorna.
'Fear not, John,' she whispered sadly, and my blood grew cold at it:'I have means to stop him; or at least to save myself. If you can comewithin one day of that man's getting hold of me, you will find me quiteunharmed. After that you will find me dead, or alive, according tocircumstances, but in no case such that you need blush to look at me.'
Her dear sweet face was full of pride, as even in the gloom I saw: and Iwould not trespass on her feelings by such a thing, at s
uch a moment, asan attempt at any caress. I only said, 'God bless you, darling!' andshe said the same to me, in a very low sad voice. And then I stole belowCarver's house, in the shadow from the eastern cliff; and knowingenough of the village now to satisfy all necessity, betook myself to mywell-known track in returning from the valley; which was neither downthe waterslide (a course I feared in the darkness) nor up the cliffs atLorna's bower; but a way of my own inventing, which there is no need todwell upon.
A weight of care was off my mind; though much of trouble hung therestill. One thing was quite certain--if Lorna could not have John Ridd,no one else should have her. And my mother, who sat up for me, and withme long time afterwards, agreed that this was comfort.