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CHAPTER XXXVII
A VERY DESPERATE VENTURE
That the enterprise now resolved upon was far more
dangerous than any hitherto attempted by me, needs no
further proof than this:--I went and made my will at
Porlock, with a middling honest lawyer there; not that
I had much to leave, but that none could say how far
the farm, and all the farming stock, might depend on my
disposition. It makes me smile when I remember how
particular I was, and how for the life of me I was
puzzled to bequeath most part of my clothes, and hats,
and things altogether my own, to Lorna, without the
shrewd old lawyer knowing who she was and where she
lived. At last, indeed, I flattered myself that I had
baffled old Tape's curiosity; but his wrinkled smile
and his speech at parting made 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 duty thoroughly exemplified;
nothing diverted to alien channels, except a small
token of esteem and reverence to an elderly lady, I
presume: and which 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. Very prudent of you,
sir. Does you credit in every way. Well, well; we all
must die; and often the young before the old.'
Not only did I think two guineas a great deal too much
money for a quarter of an hour's employment, but also I
disliked particularly the words with which he
concluded; they sounded, from his grating voice, like
the evil omen of a croaking raven. Nevertheless I
still abode in my fixed resolve to go, and find out, if
I died for it, what was become of Lorna. And herein I
lay no claim to courage; the matter being simply a
choice between two evils, of which by far the greater
one was, of course, 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 in by the water-slide.
However, I durst not take a horse (for fear of the
Doones who might be abroad upon their usual business),
but started betimes in the evening, so as not to hurry,
or waste any strength upon the way. And thus I came to
the robbers' highway, walking circumspectly, scanning
the sky-line of every hill, and searching the folds of
every valley, for any moving figure.
Although it was now well on towards dark, and the sun
was down an hour or so, I could see the robbers' road
before me, in a trough of the winding hills, where the
brook ploughed down from the higher barrows, and the
coving banks were roofed with furze. At present, there
was no one passing, neither post nor sentinel, so far
as I could descry; but I 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 the
Doone-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 the naked side of it.
Not a tree or bush was left, to shelter a man from
bullets: all was stern, and stiff, and rugged, as I
could not help perceiving, even through the darkness,
and a smell as of churchyard mould, a sense of being
boxed in and cooped, made me long to be out again.
And here I was, or seemed to be, particularly unlucky;
for as I drew near the very entrance, lightly of foot
and warily, the moon (which had often been my friend)
like an enemy broke upon me, topping the eastward ridge
of rock, and filling all the open spaces with the play
of wavering light. I shrank back into the shadowy
quarter on the right side of the road; and gloomily
employed myself to watch the triple entrance, on which
the moonlight fell askew.
All across and before the three rude and beetling
archways hung a felled oak overhead, black, and thick,
and threatening. This, as I heard before, 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 was spanned, as by a gallery with brushwood
and piled timber, all upon a ledge of stone, where
thirty men might lurk unseen, and fire at any invader.
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 nothing could be
cast upon them; even if a man could climb the height.
And the access to this portcullis place--if I may so
call it, being no portcullis there--was through certain
rocky chambers known to the tenants 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 pretty
much alike, and all unfenced and yawning. And the
common rumour was that in times of any danger, when any
force was known to be on muster in their neighbourhood,
they changed their entrance every day, and diverted the
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; neither gave the river now
any further guidance; but dived underground with a
sullen roar, where it met the cross-bar of the
mountain. Having no means at all of judging which was
the right way of the three, and knowing that the other
two would lead to almost certain death, in the
ruggedness and darkness,--for how could a man, among
precipices and bottomless depths of water, without a
ray of light, have any chance to save his life?--I do
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 stayed debating the more would the enterprise
pall upon me, and the less my relish be. And it struck
me that, in times of peace, the middle way was the
likeliest; and the others diverging right and left in
their farther parts might be made to slide into it (not
far from the entrance), at the pleasure of the warders.
Also I took it for good omen that I remembered (as
rarely happened) a very fine line in the Latin grammar,
whose emphasis 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 a deal
more fear than I wished to feel; especially when upon
looking back I could no longer see the light, which I
had forsaken. Then I stumbled over something hard, and
sharp, and very cold, moreover so grievous to my legs
that it needed my very best doctrine and humour to
forbear from swearing, in the manner they use in
London. But when I arose and felt it, and knew it to
be a culverin, I was somewhat reassured thereby,
inasmuch as it was not likely that they would plant
this engine except in the real and true entrance.
Therefore I went on again, more painfully and wearily,
and presently found it to be good that I had received
that knock, and borne it with such patience; for
otherwise I might have blundered full upon the
sentries, and been shot without more ado. As it was, I
had barely time to draw back, as I turned a corner upon
them; and if their lanthorn had been in its place, they
could scarce have failed to descry me, unless indeed I
had seen the gleam before I turned the corner.
There seemed to be only two of them, of size indeed and
stature as all the 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 a long
and heavy carbine, not in his hands (as it should have
been), but standing close beside him. Therefore it
behoved me now to be exceedingly careful, and even that
might scarce avail, without luck in proportion. So I
kept well back at the corner, and laid one cheek to the
rock face, and kept my outer eye round the jut, in the
wariest mode I could compass, 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, with the lanthorn in the
corner, quaffing something from glass measures, and
playing at push-pin, or shepherd's chess, or basset; or
some trivial game of that sort. Each was smoking a
long clay pipe, quite of new London shape, I could see,
for the shadow was thrown out clearly; and each would
laugh from time to time, as he fancied he got the
better of it. 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 other leaned
more against the rock, half sitting and half astraddle,
and wearing leathern overalls, as if newly come from
riding. I could see his face quite clearly by the
light of the open lanthorn, and a handsomer or a bolder
face I had seldom, if ever, set eyes upon; insomuch
that it made 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 of
slipping by them unperceived was to wait till they
quarrelled more, and came to blows about it.
Presently, as I made up my mind to steal along towards
them (for the cavern was pretty wide, just there),
Charlie, or Charleworth Doone, the younger and taller
man, reached forth his hand to 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;
whereupon Charlie flung at his face the contents of the
glass he was sipping, but missed him and hit the
candle, which sputtered with a flare of blue flame
(from the strength perhaps of the spirit) and then went
out completely. At this, one swore, and the other
laughed; and before they had 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 a startler--the whoop of an owl, done so exactly,
as John Fry had taught me, and echoed by the roof so
fearfully, that one of them dropped the tinder box; and
the other caught up his gun and cocked it, at least as
I 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 would have 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 my box; my flint is gone, and everything.
Will the brimstone catch from your pipe, my lad?'
'My pipe is out, Phelps, ever so long. Damn it, I am
not afraid of an owl, man. Give me the lanthorn, and
stay here. I'm not half done with you yet, my friend.'
'Well said, my boy, well said! Go straight to Carver's,
mind you. The other sleepy heads be snoring, as there
is nothing up to-night. No dallying now under
Captain's window. Queen will have nought to say to
you; 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 rate somebody) coming toward
me, with a loose and not too sober footfall. As he
reeled a little in his gait, and I would not move from
his way one inch, after his talk of Lorna, but only
longed to grasp him (if common sense permitted it), his
braided coat came against my thumb, and his leathern
gaiters brushed my knee. If he had turned or noticed
it, he would 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 I could have no better guide,
passing as he would exactly where I wished to be; that
is to say under Lorna's window. Therefore I followed
him without any especial caution; and soon I had the
pleasure of seeing his form against the moonlit sky.
Down a steep and winding path, with a handrail at the
corners (such as they have at Ilfracombe), Master
Charlie tripped along--and indeed there was much
tripping, and he must have been an active fellow to
recover as he did--and after him walked I, much hoping
(for his own poor sake) that be might not turn and espy
me.
But Bacchus (of whom I read at school, with great
wonder about his meaning--and the same I may say of
Venus) that great deity preserved Charlie, his pious
worshipper, from regarding consequences. So he led me
very kindly to the top of the meadow land, where the
stream from underground broke forth, seething quietly
with a little hiss of bubbles. Hence I had fair view
and outline of the robbers' township, spread with
bushes here and there, but not heavily overshadowed.
The moon, approaching now the full, brought the forms
in manner forth, clothing each with character, as the
moon (more than the sun) does, to an eye accustomed.
I knew that the Captain's house was first, both from
what Lorna had said of it, and from my mother's
description, and now again from seeing Charlie halt
there for a certain time, and whistle on his fingers,
and hurry on, fearing consequence. The tune that he
whistled was strange to me, 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
marked the position of the houses and the beauty of the
village. For the stream, in lieu of any street,
passing between the houses, and affording perpetual
change, and twinkling, and reflections moreover by its
sleepy murmur soothing all the dwellers there, this and
the snugness of the position, walled with rock and
spread with herbage, made it look, in the quiet
moonlight, like a little paradise. And to think of all
the inmates there, sleeping with good consciences,
having plied their useful trade of making others work
for them, enjoying life without much labour, yet with
great renown.
Master Charlie went down the village, and I followed
him carefully, keeping as much as possible in the
shadowy places, and watching the windows of every
house, lest any light should be burning. As I passed
Sir Ensor's house, my heart leaped up, for I spied a
window, higher than the rest above the ground, and with
a faint light moving. This could hardly fail to be the
room wherein my darling lay; for here that impudent
young fellow had gazed while he was whistling. And
here my courage grew tenfold, and my spirit feared no
evil--for lo, if Lorna had been surrendered to that
scoundrel, Carver, she would not have been at her
grandfather's house, but in Carver's accursed dwelling.
Warm with this idea, I hurried after Charleworth Doone,
being resolved not to harm him now, unless my own life
required it. And while I watched from behind a tree,
the door of the farthest house was opened; and sure
enough it was Carver's self, who stood bareheaded, and
half undressed in the doorway. I could see his great
black chest, and arms, by the light of 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 his trouble.'
'All the fair maids are for thee, are they, Master
Carver?' Charlie answered, laughing; 'we young scamps
must be well-content with coarser stuff than thou
wouldst have.'
'Would have? Ay, and will have,' the great beast
muttered angrily. 'I bide my time; but not very long.
Only one word for thy good, Charlie. I will fling thee
senseless into the river, if ever I catch thy girl-face
there again.'
'Mayhap, Master Carver, it is more than thou couldst
do. But I will not keep thee; thou art not pleasant
company to-night. All I want is a light for 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 the culvern, and so scared was he at our fierce
bright eyes that he fell and knocked 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 bed now.'
'Then so will I be, and why art thou not? Ha, have I
earned my schnapps now?'
'If thou hast, thou hast paid a bad debt; there is too
much in thee already. Be off! my patience is done
with.'
Then he slammed the door in the young man's face,
having kindled his lanthorn 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 surly old
beast is Captain. No gentle blood in him, no
hospitality, not even pleasant language, nor a good new
oath in his frowsy pate! I've a mind to 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 by Lorna's window, and whispered her name
gently. The house was of one story only, as the others
were, with pine-ends standing forth the stone, and only
two rough windows upon that western side of it, and
perhaps both of them were Lorna's. The Doones had been
their own builders, for no one should know their ins
and outs; and of course their work was clumsy. As for
their windows, they stole them mostly from the houses
round about. But though the window was not very close,
I might have whispered long enough, before she would
have answered me; frightened as she was, no doubt by
many a rude overture. And I durst not speak aloud
because I saw another watchman posted on the western
cliff, and commanding all the valley. And now this man
(having no companion for drinking or for gambling)
espied me against the wall of the house, and advanced
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 the moonlight 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 to
whistle, wondering how far I should get before I lost
my windpipe: and as luck would have it, my lips fell
into that strange tune I had practised last; the one I
had heard from Charlie. My mouth would scarcely frame
the notes, being parched with terror; but to my
surprise, the man fell back, dropped his gun, and
saluted. Oh, sweetest of all sweet melodies!
That tune was Carver Doone's passport (as I heard long
afterwards), which Charleworth Doone had imitated, for
decoy of Lorna. The sentinel took 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 his name, if it might be avoided. The watchman,
perceiving the danger perhaps of intruding on Carver's
privacy, not only retired along the cliff, but withdrew
himself to good distance.
Meanwhile he had done me the kindest service; for Lorna
came to the window at once, to see what the cause of
the shout was, and drew back the curtain timidly. Then
she opened the rough lattice; and then she watched the
cliff and trees; and then she sighed very sadly.
'Oh, Lorna, don't you know me?' I whispered from the
side, being afraid of 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 showed myself.
'John!' she cried, yet with sense enough not to speak
aloud: 'oh, you must be mad, John.'
'As mad as a March hare,' said I, 'without any news of
my darling. You knew I would come: of course you
did.'
'Well, I thought, perhaps--you know: now, John, you
need not eat my hand. Do you see they have put iron
bars across?'
'To be sure. Do you think I should be contented, even
with this lovely hand, 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, you know.'
So I got the other, but was not honest; for I kept them
both, and felt their delicate beauty trembling, as I
laid them to my heart.
'Oh, John, you will make me cry directly'--she had been
crying long ago--'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 to think 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
great enthusiasm, for her tone was so nice and
melancholy: 'the only thing we 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 from answering.
'Now tell me,' I said; 'what means all this? Why are
you so pent up here? Why have you given me no token?
Has your grandfather turned against you? Are you in
any danger?'
'My poor grandfather is very ill: I fear that he will
not live long. The Counsellor and his son are now the
masters of the valley; and I dare not venture forth,
for fear of anything they might do to me. When I went
forth, to signal for you, Carver tried to seize me; but
I was too quick for him. Little Gwenny is not allowed
to leave the valley now; so that I could send no
message. I have been so wretched, dear, lest you
should think me false to you. The tyrants now make
sure of me. You must watch this house, both night and
day, if you wish to save me. There is nothing they
would shrink from; if my poor grandfather--oh, I cannot
bear to think of myself, when I ought to think of him
only; dying without a son to tend him, or a daughter to
shed a tear.'
'But surely he has sons enough; and a deal too many,' I
was going to say, 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 have ever loved him. He was black with
wrath at the Counsellor, this very afternoon--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. I will not stay long; you tremble so: and
yet for that very reason, how can I leave you, Lorna?'
'You must--you must,' she answered; 'I shall die if
they hurt you. I hear the old nurse moving.
Grandfather is sure to send for me. Keep back from
the window.'
However, it was only Gwenny Carfax, Lorna's little
handmaid: my darling brought her to the window and
presented her to me, almost laughing through her grief.
'Oh, I am so glad, John; Gwenny, I am so glad you came.
I have wanted long to introduce you to my "young man,"
as you call him. It is rather dark, but you can see
him. I wish you to know him again, Gwenny.'
'Whoy!' cried Gwenny, with great amazement, standing on
tiptoe to look out, and staring as if she were weighing
me: 'her be bigger nor any Doone! Heared as her have
bate our Cornish champion awrastling. 'Twadn't fair
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 unfair indeed 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 rather by
the construction she put upon it, the heart of the
Cornish girl was won, 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', and I wall gae outside and
watch for 'ee.' Though expressed not over delicately,
this proposal arose, no doubt, from Gwenny's sense of
delicacy; and I was very thankful to her for taking her
departure.
'She is the best little thing in the world,' said
Lorna, softly laughing; 'and the queerest, and the
truest. Nothing will bribe her against me. If she
seems to be on the other side, never, never doubt her.
Now no more of your "coortin'," John! I love you far
too well for that. 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 you love me, go.'
'How can I go without settling anything?' I asked very
sensibly. 'How shall 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, with that peculiar clearness of voice which
made every syllable ring like music of a several note,
'you see that tree with the seven rooks' nests bright
against the cliffs there? Can you count them, from
above, do you think? 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 a spot, 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 nothing
doing. If you see but six rooks' nests; I am in peril
and want you. If you 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 come within one day of that
man's getting hold of me, you will find me quite
unharmed. After that you will find me dead, or alive,
according to circumstances, 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 I would not trespass on her feelings
by such a thing, at such a moment, as an attempt at any
caress. I only said, 'God bless you, darling!' and she
said the same to me, in a very low sad voice. And then
I stole below Carver's house, in the shadow from the
eastern cliff; and knowing enough of the village now to
satisfy all necessity, betook myself to my well-known
track in returning from the valley; which was neither
down the waterslide (a course I feared in the darkness)
nor up the cliffs at Lorna's bower; but a way of my own
inventing, which there is no need to dwell upon.
A weight of care was off my mind; though much of
trouble hung there still. 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
with me long time afterwards, agreed that this was
comfort.
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