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CHAPTER XIII
MASTER HUCKABACK COMES IN
Mr. Reuben Huckaback, whom many good folk in Dulverton
will remember long after my time, was my mother's
uncle, being indeed her mother's brother. He owned the
very best shop in the town, and did a fine trade in
soft ware, especially when the pack-horses came safely
in at Christmas-time. And we being now his only
kindred (except indeed his granddaughter, little Ruth
Huckaback, of whom no one took any heed), mother beheld
it a Christian duty to keep as well as could be with
him, both for love of a nice old man, and for the sake
of her children. And truly, the Dulverton people said
that he was the richest man in their town, and could
buy up half the county armigers; 'ay, and if it came to
that, they would like to see any man, at Bampton, or at
Wivelscombe, and you might say almost Taunton, who
could put down golden Jacobus and Carolus against him.
Now this old gentleman--so they called him, according
to his money; and I have seen many worse ones, more
violent and less wealthy--he must needs come away that
time to spend the New Year-tide with us; not that he
wanted to do it (for he hated country-life), but
because my mother pressing, as mothers will do to a
good bag of gold, had wrung a promise from him; and the
only boast of his life was that never yet had he broken
his word, at least since he opened business.
Now it pleased God that Christmas-time (in spite of all
the fogs) to send safe home to Dulverton, and what was
more, with their loads quite safe, a goodly string of
packhorses. Nearly half of their charge was for Uncle
Reuben, and he knew how to make the most of it. Then
having balanced his debits and credits, and set the
writs running against defaulters, as behoves a good
Christian at Christmas-tide, he saddled his horse, and
rode off towards Oare, with a good stout coat upon him,
and leaving Ruth and his head man plenty to do, and
little to eat, until they should see him again.
It had been settled between us that we should expect
him soon after noon on the last day of December. For
the Doones being lazy and fond of bed, as the manner is
of dishonest folk, the surest way to escape them was to
travel before they were up and about, to-wit, in the
forenoon of the day. But herein we reckoned without
our host: for being in high festivity, as became good
Papists, the robbers were too lazy, it seems, to take
the trouble of going to bed; and forth they rode on the
Old Year-morning, not with any view of business, but
purely in search of mischief.
We had put off our dinner till one o'clock (which to me
was a sad foregoing), and there was to be a brave
supper at six of the clock, upon New Year's-eve; and
the singers to come with their lanthorns, and do it
outside the parlour-window, and then have hot cup till
their heads should go round, after making away with the
victuals. For although there was nobody now in our
family to be churchwarden of Oare, it was well admitted
that we were the people entitled alone to that dignity;
and though Nicholas Snowe was in office by name, he
managed it only by mother's advice; and a pretty mess
he made of it, so that every one longed for a Ridd
again, soon as ever I should be old enough. This
Nicholas Snowe was to come in the evening, with his
three tall comely daughters, strapping girls, and well
skilled in the dairy; and the story was all over the
parish, on a stupid conceit of John Fry's, that I
should have been in love with all three, if there had
been but one of them. These Snowes were to come, and
come they did, partly because Mr. Huckaback liked to
see fine young maidens, and partly because none but
Nicholas Snowe could smoke a pipe now all around our
parts, except of the very high people, whom we durst
never invite. And Uncle Ben, as we all knew well, was
a great hand at his pipe, and would sit for hours over
it, in our warm chimney-corner, and never want to say
a word, unless it were inside him; only he liked to
have somebody there over against him smoking.
Now when I came in, before one o'clock, after seeing to
the cattle--for the day was thicker than ever, and we
must keep the cattle close at home, if we wished to see
any more of them--I fully expected to find Uncle Ben
sitting in the fireplace, lifting one cover and then
another, as his favourite manner was, and making sweet
mouths over them; for he loved our bacon rarely, and
they had no good leeks at Dulverton; and he was a man
who always would see his business done himself. But
there instead of my finding him with his quaint dry
face pulled out at me, and then shut up sharp not to be
cheated--who should run out but Betty Muxworthy, and
poke me with a saucepan lid.
'Get out of that now, Betty,' I said in my politest
manner, for really Betty was now become a great
domestic evil. She would have her own way so, and of
all things the most distressful was for a man to try to
reason.
'Zider-press,' cried Betty again, for she thought it a
fine joke to call me that, because of my size, and my
hatred of it; 'here be a rare get up, anyhow.'
'A rare good dinner, you mean, Betty. Well, and I have
a rare good appetite.' With that I wanted to go and
smell it, and not to stop for Betty.
'Troost thee for thiccy, Jan Ridd. But thee must keep
it bit langer, I reckon. Her baint coom, Maister
Ziderpress. Whatt'e mak of that now?'
'Do you mean to say that Uncle Ben has not arrived yet,
Betty?'
'Raived! I knaws nout about that, whuther a hath of
noo. Only I tell 'e, her baint coom. Rackon them
Dooneses hath gat 'un.'
And Betty, who hated Uncle Ben, because he never gave
her a groat, and she was not allowed to dine with him,
I am sorry to say that Betty Muxworthy grinned all
across, and poked me again with the greasy saucepan
cover. But I misliking so to be treated, strode
through the kitchen indignantly, for Betty behaved to
me even now, as if I were only Eliza.
'Oh, Johnny, Johnny,' my mother cried, running out of
the grand show-parlour, where the case of stuffed birds
was, and peacock-feathers, and the white hare killed
by grandfather; 'I am so glad you are come at last.
There is something sadly amiss, Johnny.'
Mother had upon her wrists something very wonderful, of
the nature of fal-lal as we say, and for which she had
an inborn turn, being of good draper family, and
polished above the yeomanry. Nevertheless I could
never bear it, partly because I felt it to be out of
place in our good farm-house, partly because I hate
frippery, partly because it seemed to me to have
nothing to do with father, and partly because I never
could tell the reason of my hating it. And yet the
poor soul had put them on, not to show her hands off
(which were above her station) but simply for her
children's sake, because Uncle Ben had given them. But
another thing, I never could bear for man or woman to
call me, 'Johnny,' 'Jack,' or 'John,' I cared not
which; and that was honest enough, and no smallness of
me there, I say.
'Well, mother, what is the matter, then?'
'I am sure you need not be angry, Johnny. I only hope
it is nothing to grieve about, instead of being angry.
You are very sweet-tempered, I know, John Ridd, and
perhaps a little too sweet at times'--here she meant
the Snowe girls, and I hanged my head--'but what would
you say if the people there'--she never would call them
'Doones'--'had gotten your poor Uncle Reuben, horse,
and Sunday coat, and all?'
'Why, mother, I should be sorry for them. He would set
up a shop by the river-side, and come away with all
their money.'
'That all you have to say, John! And my dinner done to
a very turn, and the supper all fit to go down, and no
worry, only to eat and be done with it! And all the new
plates come from Watchett, with the Watchett blue upon
them, at the risk of the lives of everybody, and the
capias from good Aunt Jane for stuffing a curlew with
onion before he begins to get cold, and make a woodcock
of him, and the way to turn the flap over in the inside
of a roasting pig--'
'Well, mother dear, I am very sorry. But let us have
our dinner. You know we promised not to wait for him
after one o'clock; and you only make us hungry.
Everything will be spoiled, mother, and what a pity to
think of! After that I will go to seek for him in the
thick of the fog, like a needle in a hay-band. That is
to say, unless you think'--for she looked very grave
about it--'unless you really think, mother, that I
ought to go without dinner.'
'Oh no, John, I never thought that, thank God! Bless
Him for my children's appetites; and what is Uncle Ben
to them?'
So we made a very good dinner indeed, though wishing
that he could have some of it, and wondering how much
to leave for him; and then, as no sound of his horse
had been heard, I set out with my gun to look for him.
I followed the track on the side of the hill, from the
farm-yard, where the sledd-marks are--for we have no
wheels upon Exmoor yet, nor ever shall, I suppose;
though a dunder-headed man tried it last winter, and
broke his axle piteously, and was nigh to break his
neck--and after that I went all along on the ridge of
the rabbit-cleve, with the brook running thin in the
bottom; and then down to the Lynn stream and leaped it,
and so up the hill and the moor beyond. The fog hung
close all around me then, when I turned the crest of
the highland, and the gorse both before and behind me
looked like a man crouching down in ambush. But still
there was a good cloud of daylight, being scarce three
of the clock yet, and when a lead of red deer came
across, I could tell them from sheep even now. I was
half inclined to shoot at them, for the children did
love venison; but they drooped their heads so, and
looked so faithful, that it seemed hard measure to do
it. If one of them had bolted away, no doubt I had let
go at him.
After that I kept on the track, trudging very stoutly,
for nigh upon three miles, and my beard (now beginning
to grow at some length) was full of great drops and
prickly, whereat I was very proud. I had not so much
as a dog with me, and the place was unkind and
lonesome, and the rolling clouds very desolate; and now
if a wild sheep ran across he was scared at me as an
enemy; and I for my part could not tell the meaning of
the marks on him. We called all this part Gibbet-moor,
not being in our parish; but though there were gibbets
enough upon it, most part of the bodies was gone for
the value of the chains, they said, and the teaching of
young chirurgeons. But of all this I had little fear,
being no more a schoolboy now, but a youth
well-acquaint with Exmoor, and the wise art of the
sign-posts, whereby a man, who barred the road, now
opens it up both ways with his finger-bones, so far as
rogues allow him. My carbine was loaded and freshly
primed, and I knew myself to be even now a match in
strength for any two men of the size around our
neighbourhood, except in the Glen Doone. 'Girt Jan
Ridd,' I was called already, and folk grew feared to
wrestle with me; though I was tired of hearing about
it, and often longed to be smaller. And most of all
upon Sundays, when I had to make way up our little
church, and the maidens tittered at me.
The soft white mist came thicker around me, as the
evening fell; and the peat ricks here and there, and
the furze-hucks of the summer-time, were all out of
shape in the twist of it. By-and-by, I began to doubt
where I was, or how come there, not having seen a
gibbet lately; and then I heard the draught of the wind
up a hollow place with rocks to it; and for the first
time fear broke out (like cold sweat) upon me. And yet
I knew what a fool I was, to fear nothing but a sound!
But when I stopped to listen, there was no sound, more
than a beating noise, and that was all inside me.
Therefore I went on again, making company of myself,
and keeping my gun quite ready.
Now when I came to an unknown place, where a stone was
set up endwise, with a faint red cross upon it, and a
polish from some conflict, I gathered my courage to
stop and think, having sped on the way too hotly.
Against that stone I set my gun, trying my spirit to
leave it so, but keeping with half a hand for it; and
then what to do next was the wonder. As for finding
Uncle Ben that was his own business, or at any rate his
executor's; first I had to find myself, and plentifully
would thank God to find myself at home again, for the
sake of all our family.
The volumes of the mist came rolling at me (like great
logs of wood, pillowed out with sleepiness), and
between them there was nothing more than waiting for
the next one. Then everything went out of sight, and
glad was I of the stone behind me, and view of mine own
shoes. Then a distant noise went by me, as of many
horses galloping, and in my fright I set my gun and
said, 'God send something to shoot at.' Yet nothing
came, and my gun fell back, without my will to lower
it.
But presently, while I was thinking 'What a fool I am!'
arose as if from below my feet, so that the great stone
trembled, that long, lamenting lonesome sound, as of an
evil spirit not knowing what to do with it. For the
moment I stood like a root, without either hand or foot
to help me, and the hair of my head began to crawl,
lifting my hat, as a snail lifts his house; and my
heart like a shuttle went to and fro. But finding no
harm to come of it, neither visible form approaching, I
wiped my forehead, and hoped for the best, and resolved
to run every step of the way, till I drew our own latch
behind me.
Yet here again I was disappointed, for no sooner was I
come to the cross-ways by the black pool in the hole,
but I heard through the patter of my own feet a rough
low sound very close in the fog, as of a hobbled sheep
a-coughing. I listened, and feared, and yet listened
again, though I wanted not to hear it. For being in
haste of the homeward road, and all my heart having
heels to it, loath I was to stop in the dusk for the
sake of an aged wether. Yet partly my love of all
animals, and partly my fear of the farmer's disgrace,
compelled me to go to the succour, and the noise was
coming nearer. A dry short wheezing sound it was,
barred with coughs and want of breath; but thus I made
the meaning of it.
'Lord have mercy upon me! O Lord, upon my soul have
mercy! An if I cheated Sam Hicks last week, Lord
knowest how well he deserved it, and lied in every
stocking's mouth--oh Lord, where be I a-going?'
These words, with many jogs between them, came to me
through the darkness, and then a long groan and a
choking. I made towards the sound, as nigh as ever I
could guess, and presently was met, point-blank, by the
head of a mountain-pony. Upon its back lay a man bound
down, with his feet on the neck and his head to the
tail, and his arms falling down like stirrups. The
wild little nag was scared of its life by the
unaccustomed burden, and had been tossing and rolling
hard, in desire to get ease of it.
Before the little horse could turn, I caught him, jaded
as he was, by his wet and grizzled forelock, and he saw
that it was vain to struggle, but strove to bite me
none the less, until I smote him upon the nose.
'Good and worthy sir,' I said to the man who was riding
so roughly; 'fear nothing; no harm shall come to thee.'
'Help, good friend, whoever thou art,' he gasped, but
could not look at me, because his neck was jerked so;
'God hath sent thee, and not to rob me, because it is
done already.'
'What, Uncle Ben!' I cried, letting go the horse in
amazement, that the richest man in Dulverton--'Uncle
Ben here in this plight! What, Mr. Reuben Huckaback!'
'An honest hosier and draper, serge and longcloth
warehouseman'--he groaned from rib to rib--'at the
sign of the Gartered Kitten in the loyal town of
Dulverton. For God's sake, let me down, good fellow,
from this accursed marrow-bone; and a groat of good
money will I pay thee, safe in my house to Dulverton;
but take notice that the horse is mine, no less than
the nag they robbed from me.'
'What, Uncle Ben, dost thou not know me, thy dutiful
nephew John Ridd?'
Not to make a long story of it, I cut the thongs that
bound him, and set him astride on the little horse; but
he was too weak to stay so. Therefore I mounted him on
my back, turning the horse into horse-steps, and
leading the pony by the cords which I fastened around
his nose, set out for Plover's Barrows.
Uncle Ben went fast asleep on my back, being jaded and
shaken beyond his strength, for a man of three-score
and five; and as soon he felt assured of safety he
would talk no more. And to tell the truth he snored so
loudly, that I could almost believe that fearful noise
in the fog every night came all the way from Dulverton.
Now as soon as ever I brought him in, we set him up in
the chimney-corner, comfortable and handsome; and it
was no little delight to me to get him off my back;
for, like his own fortune, Uncle Ben was of a good
round figure. He gave his long coat a shake or two,
and he stamped about in the kitchen, until he was sure
of his whereabouts, and then he fell asleep again until
supper should be ready.
'He shall marry Ruth,' he said by-and-by to himself,
and not to me; 'he shall marry Ruth for this, and have
my little savings, soon as they be worth the having.
Very little as yet, very little indeed; and ever so
much gone to-day along of them rascal robbers.'
My mother made a dreadful stir, of course, about Uncle
Ben being in such a plight as this; so I left him to
her care and Annie's, and soon they fed him rarely,
while I went out to see to the comfort of the captured
pony. And in truth he was worth the catching, and
served us very well afterwards, though Uncle Ben was
inclined to claim him for his business at Dulverton,
where they have carts and that like. 'But,' I said,
'you shall have him, sir, and welcome, if you will only
ride him home as first I found you riding him.' And
with that he dropped it.
A very strange old man he was, short in his manner,
though long of body, glad to do the contrary things to
what any one expected of him, and always looking sharp
at people, as if he feared to be cheated. This
surprised me much at first, because it showed his
ignorance of what we farmers are--an upright race, as
you may find, scarcely ever cheating indeed, except
upon market-day, and even then no more than may be
helped by reason of buyers expecting it. Now our
simple ways were a puzzle to him, as I told him very
often; but he only laughed, and rubbed his mouth with
the back of his dry shining hand, and I think he
shortly began to languish for want of some one to
higgle with. I had a great mind to give him the pony,
because he thought himself cheated in that case; only
he would conclude that I did it with some view to a
legacy.
Of course, the Doones, and nobody else, had robbed good
Uncle Reuben; and then they grew sportive, and took his
horse, an especially sober nag, and bound the master
upon the wild one, for a little change as they told
him. For two or three hours they had fine enjoyment
chasing him through the fog, and making much sport of
his groanings; and then waxing hungry, they went their
way, and left him to opportunity. Now Mr. Huckaback
growing able to walk in a few days' time, became
thereupon impatient, and could not be brought to
understand why he should have been robbed at all.
'I have never deserved it,' he said to himself, not
knowing much of Providence, except with a small p to
it; 'I have never deserved it, and will not stand it in
the name of our lord the King, not I!' At other times
he would burst forth thus: 'Three-score years and five
have I lived an honest and laborious life, yet never
was I robbed before. And now to be robbed in my old
age, to be robbed for the first time now!'
Thereupon of course we would tell him how truly
thankful he ought to be for never having been robbed
before, in spite of living so long in this world, and
that he was taking a very ungrateful, not to say
ungracious, view, in thus repining, and feeling
aggrieved; when anyone else would have knelt and
thanked God for enjoying so long an immunity. But say
what we would, it was all as one. Uncle Ben stuck
fast to it, that he had nothing to thank God for.
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