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CHAPTER LVII
LORNA KNOWS HER NURSE
Having obtained from Benita Odam a very close and full
description of the place where her poor mistress lay,
and the marks whereby to know it, I hastened to
Watchett the following morning, before the sun was up,
or any people were about. And so, without
interruption, I was in the churchyard at sunrise.
In the farthest and darkest nook, overgrown with grass,
and overhung by a weeping-tree a little bank of earth
betokened the rounding off of a hapless life. There
was nothing to tell of rank, or wealth, of love, or
even pity; nameless as a peasant lay the last (as
supposed) of a mighty race. Only some unskilful hand,
probably Master Odam's under his wife's teaching, had
carved a rude L., and a ruder D., upon a large pebble
from the beach, and set it up as a headstone.
I gathered a little grass for Lorna and a sprig of the
weeping-tree, and then returned to the Forest Cat, as
Benita's lonely inn was called. For the way is long
from Watchett to Oare; and though you may ride it
rapidly, as the Doones had done on that fatal night, to
travel on wheels, with one horse only, is a matter of
time and of prudence. Therefore, we set out pretty
early, three of us and a baby, who could not well be
left behind. The wife of the man who owned the cart
had undertaken to mind the business, and the other
babies, upon condition of having the keys of all the
taps left with her.
As the manner of journeying over the moor has been
described oft enough already, I will say no more,
except that we all arrived before dusk of the summer's
day, safe at Plover's Barrows. Mistress Benita was
delighted with the change from her dull hard life; and
she made many excellent observations, such as seem
natural to a foreigner looking at our country.
As luck would have it, the first who came to meet us at
the gate was Lorna, with nothing whatever upon her head
(the weather being summerly) but her beautiful hair
shed round her; and wearing a sweet white frock tucked
in, and showing her figure perfectly. In her joy she
ran straight up to the cart; and then stopped and gazed
at Benita. At one glance her old nurse knew her: 'Oh,
the eyes, the eyes!' she cried, and was over the rail
of the cart in a moment, in spite of all her substance.
Lorna, on the other hand, looked at her with some doubt
and wonder, as though having right to know much about
her, and yet unable to do so. But when the foreign
woman said something in Roman language, and flung new
hay from the cart upon her, as if in a romp of
childhood, the young maid cried, 'Oh, Nita, Nita!' and
fell upon her breast, and wept; and after that looked
round at us.
This being so, there could be no doubt as to the power
of proving Lady Lorna's birth, and rights, both by
evidence and token. For though we had not the necklace
now--thanks to Annie's wisdom--we had the ring of heavy
gold, a very ancient relic, with which my maid (in her
simple way) had pledged herself to me. And Benita knew
this ring as well as she knew her own fingers, having
heard a long history about it; and the effigy on it of
the wild cat was the bearing of the house of Lorne.
For though Lorna's father was a nobleman of high and
goodly lineage, her mother was of yet more ancient and
renowned descent, being the last in line direct from
the great and kingly chiefs of Lorne. A wild and
headstrong race they were, and must have everything
their own way. Hot blood was ever among them, even of
one household; and their sovereignty (which more than
once had defied the King of Scotland) waned and fell
among themselves, by continual quarrelling. And it was
of a piece with this, that the Doones (who were an
offset, by the mother's side, holding in co-
partnership some large property, which had come by the
spindle, as we say) should fall out with the Earl of
Lorne, the last but one of that title.
The daughter of this nobleman had married Sir Ensor
Doone; but this, instead of healing matters, led to
fiercer conflict. I never could quite understand all
the ins and outs of it; which none but a lawyer may go
through, and keep his head at the end of it. The
motives of mankind are plainer than the motions they
produce. Especially when charity (such as found among
us) sits to judge the former, and is never weary of it;
while reason does not care to trace the latter
complications, except for fee or title.
Therefore it is enough to say, that knowing Lorna to be
direct in heirship to vast property, and bearing
especial spite against the house of which she was the
last, the Doones had brought her up with full intention
of lawful marriage; and had carefully secluded her from
the wildest of their young gallants. Of course, if
they had been next in succession, the child would have
gone down the waterfall, to save any further trouble;
but there was an intercepting branch of some honest
family; and they being outlaws, would have a poor
chance (though the law loves outlaws) against them.
Only Lorna was of the stock; and Lorna they must marry.
And what a triumph against the old earl, for a cursed
Doone to succeed him!
As for their outlawry, great robberies, and grand
murders, the veriest child, nowadays, must know that
money heals the whole of that. Even if they had
murdered people of a good position, it would only cost
about twice as much to prove their motives loyal. But
they had never slain any man above the rank of yeoman;
and folk even said that my father was the highest of
their victims; for the death of Lorna's mother and
brother was never set to their account.
Pure pleasure it is to any man, to reflect upon all
these things. How truly we discern clear justice, and
how well we deal it. If any poor man steals a sheep,
having ten children starving, and regarding it as
mountain game (as a rich man does a hare), to the
gallows with him. If a man of rank beats down a door,
smites the owner upon the head, and honours the wife
with attention, it is a thing to be grateful for, and
to slouch smitten head the lower.
While we were full of all these things, and wondering
what would happen next, or what we ought ourselves to
do, another very important matter called for our
attention. This was no less than Annie's marriage to
the Squire Faggus. We had tried to put it off again;
for in spite of all advantages, neither my mother nor
myself had any real heart for it. Not that we dwelled
upon Tom's short-comings or rather perhaps his going
too far, at the time when he worked the road so. All
that was covered by the King's pardon, and universal
respect of the neighbourhood. But our scruple was
this--and the more we talked the more it grew upon us--
that we both had great misgivings as to his future
steadiness.
For it would be a thousand pities, we said, for a fine,
well-grown, and pretty maiden (such as our Annie was),
useful too, in so many ways, and lively, and
warm-hearted, and mistress of 500 pounds, to throw
herself away on a man with a kind of a turn for
drinking. If that last were even hinted, Annie would
be most indignant, and ask, with cheeks as red as
roses, who had ever seen Master Faggus any the worse
for liquor indeed? Her own opinion was, in truth, that
be took a great deal too little, after all his hard
work, and hard riding, and coming over the hills to be
insulted! And if ever it lay in her power, and with no
one to grudge him his trumpery glass, she would see
that poor Tom had the nourishment which his cough and
his lungs required.
His lungs being quite as sound as mine, this matter was
out of all argument; so mother and I looked at one
another, as much as to say, 'let her go upstairs, she
will cry and come down more reasonable.' And while she
was gone, we used to say the same thing over and over
again; but without perceiving a cure for it. And we
almost always finished up with the following
reflection, which sometimes came from mother's lips,
and sometimes from my own: 'Well, well, there is no
telling. None can say how a man may alter; when he
takes to matrimony. But if we could only make Annie
promise to be a little firm with him!'
I fear that all this talk on our part only hurried
matters forward, Annie being more determined every time
we pitied her. And at last Tom Faggus came, and spoke
as if he were on the King's road, with a pistol at my
head, and one at mother's. 'No more fast and loose,'
he cried. 'either one thing or the other. I love the
maid, and she loves me; and we will have one another,
either with your leave, or without it. How many more
times am I to dance over these vile hills, and leave my
business, and get nothing more than a sigh or a kiss,
and "Tom, I must wait for mother"? You are famous for
being straightforward, you Ridds. Just treat me as I
would treat you now.'
I looked at my mother; for a glance from her would have
sent Tom out of the window; but she checked me with her
hand, and said, 'You have some ground of complaint,
sir; I will not deny it. Now I will be as
straight-forward with you, as even a Ridd is supposed
to be. My son and myself have all along disliked your
marriage with Annie. Not for what you have been so
much, as for what we fear you will be. Have patience,
one moment, if you please. We do not fear your taking
to the highway life again; for that you are too clever,
no doubt, now that you have property. But we fear that
you will take to drinking, and to squandering money.
There are many examples of this around us; and we know
what the fate of the wife is. It has been hard to tell
you this, under our own roof, and with our own--' Here
mother hesitated.
'Spirits, and cider, and beer,' I broke in; 'out with
it, like a Ridd, mother; as he will have all of it.'
'Spirits, and cider, and beer,' said mother very firmly
after me; and then she gave way and said, 'You know,
Tom, you are welcome to every drop and more of it.'
Now Tom must have had a far sweeter temper than ever I
could claim; for I should have thrust my glass away,
and never have taken another drop in the house where
such a check had met me. But instead of that, Master
Faggus replied, with a pleasant smile,--
'I know that I am welcome, good mother; and to prove
it, I will have some more.'
And thereupon be mixed himself another glass of
hollands with lemon and hot water, yet pouring it very
delicately.
'Oh, I have been so miserable--take a little more,
Tom,' said mother, handing the bottle.
'Yes, take a little more,' I said; 'you have mixed it
over weak, Tom.'
'If ever there was a sober man,' cried Tom, complying
with our request; 'if ever there was in Christendom a
man of perfect sobriety, that man is now before you.
Shall we say to-morrow week, mother? It will suit your
washing day.'
'How very thoughtful you are, Tom! Now John would never
have thought of that, in spite of all his steadiness.'
'Certainly not,' I answered proudly; 'when my time
comes for Lorna, I shall not study Betty Muxworthy.'
In this way the Squire got over us; and Farmer Nicholas
Snowe was sent for, to counsel with mother about the
matter and to set his two daughters sewing.
When the time for the wedding came, there was such a
stir and commotion as had never been known in the
parish of Oare since my father's marriage. For Annie's
beauty and kindliness had made her the pride of the
neighbourhood; and the presents sent her, from all
around, were enough to stock a shop with. Master
Stickles, who now could walk, and who certainly owed
his recovery, with the blessing of God, to Annie,
presented her with a mighty Bible, silver-clasped, and
very handsome, beating the parson's out and out, and
for which he had sent to Taunton. Even the common
troopers, having tasted her cookery many times (to help
out their poor rations), clubbed together, and must
have given at least a week's pay apiece, to have turned
out what they did for her. This was no less than a
silver pot, well-designed, but suited surely rather to
the bridegroom's taste than bride's. In a word,
everybody gave her things.
And now my Lorna came to me, with a spring of tears in
appealing eyes--for she was still somewhat childish, or
rather, I should say, more childish now than when she
lived in misery--and she placed her little hand in
mine, and she was half afraid to speak, and dropped her
eyes for me to ask.
'What is it, little darling?' I asked, as I saw her
breath come fast; for the smallest emotion moved her
form.
'You don't think, John, you don't think, dear, that you
could lend me any money?'
'All I have got,' I answered; 'how much do you want,
dear heart?'
'I have been calculating; and I fear that I cannot do
any good with less than ten pounds, John.'
Here she looked up at me, with horror at the grandeur
of the sum, and not knowing what I could think of it.
But I kept my eyes from her. 'Ten pounds!' I said in
my deepest voice, on purpose to have it out in comfort,
when she should be frightened; 'what can you want with
ten pounds, child?'
'That is my concern, said Lorna, plucking up her spirit
at this: 'when a lady asks for a loan, no gentleman
pries into the cause of her asking it.'
'That may be as may be,' I answered in a judicial
manner; 'ten pounds, or twenty, you shall have. But I
must know the purport.'
'Then that you never shall know, John. I am very sorry
for asking you. It is not of the smallest consequence.
Oh, dear, no.' Herewith she was running away.
'Oh, dear, yes,' I replied; 'it is of very great
consequence; and I understand the whole of it. You
want to give that stupid Annie, who has lost you a
hundred thousand pounds, and who is going to be married
before us, dear--God only can tell why, being my
younger sister--you want to give her a wedding present.
And you shall do it, darling; because it is so good of
you. Don't you know your title, love? How humble you
are with us humble folk. You are Lady Lorna something,
so far as I can make out yet: and you ought not even to
speak to us. You will go away and disdain us.'
'If you please, talk not like that, John. I will have
nothing to do with it, if it comes between you and me,
John.'
'You cannot help yourself,' said I. And then she vowed
that she could and would. And rank and birth were
banished from between our lips in no time.
'What can I get her good enough? I am sure I do not
know,' she asked: 'she has been so kind and good to me,
and she is such a darling. How I shall miss her, to be
sure! By the bye, you seem to think, John, that I shall
be rich some day.'
'Of course you will. As rich as the French King who
keeps ours. Would the Lord Chancellor trouble himself
about you, if you were poor?'
'Then if I am rich, perhaps you would lend me twenty
pounds, dear John. Ten pounds would be very mean for a
wealthy person to give her.'
To this I agreed, upon condition that I should make the
purchase myself, whatever it might be. For nothing
could be easier than to cheat Lorna about the cost,
until time should come for her paying me. And this was
better than to cheat her for the benefit of our family.
For this end, and for many others, I set off to
Dulverton, bearing more commissions, more messages, and
more questions than a man of thrice my memory might
carry so far as the corner where the sawpit is. And to
make things worse, one girl or other would keep on
running up to me, or even after me (when started) with
something or other she had just thought of, which she
could not possibly do without, and which I must be sure
to remember, as the most important of the whole.
To my dear mother, who had partly outlived the
exceeding value of trifles, the most important matter
seemed to ensure Uncle Reuben's countenance and
presence at the marriage. And if I succeeded in this,
I might well forget all the maidens' trumpery. This
she would have been wiser to tell me when they were out
of hearing; for I left her to fight her own battle with
them; and laughing at her predicament, promised to do
the best I could for all, so far as my wits would go.
Uncle Reuben was not at home, but Ruth, who received me
very kindly, although without any expressions of joy,
was sure of his return in the afternoon, and persuaded
me to wait for him. And by the time that I had
finished all I could recollect of my orders, even with
paper to help me, the old gentleman rode into the yard,
and was more surprised than pleased to see me. But if
he was surprised, I was more than that--I was utterly
astonished at the change in his appearance since the
last time I had seen him. From a hale, and rather
heavy man, gray-haired, but plump, and ruddy, he was
altered to a shrunken, wizened, trembling, and almost
decrepit figure. Instead of curly and comely locks,
grizzled indeed, but plentiful, he had only a few lank
white hairs scattered and flattened upon his forehead.
But the greatest change of all was in the expression of
his eyes, which had been so keen, and restless, and
bright, and a little sarcastic. Bright indeed they
still were, but with a slow unhealthy lustre; their
keenness was turned to perpetual outlook, their
restlessness to a haggard want. As for the humour
which once gleamed there (which people who fear it call
sarcasm) it had been succeeded by stares of terror, and
then mistrust, and shrinking. There was none of the
interest in mankind, which is needful even for satire.
'Now what can this be?' thought I to myself, 'has the
old man lost all his property, or taken too much to
strong waters?'
'Come inside, John Ridd,' he said; 'I will have a talk
with you. It is cold out here; and it is too light.
Come inside, John Ridd, boy.'
I followed him into a little dark room, quite different
from Ruth Huckaback's. It was closed from the shop by
an old division of boarding, hung with tanned canvas;
and the smell was very close and faint. Here there was
a ledger desk, and a couple of chairs, and a
long-legged stool.
'Take the stool,' said Uncle Reuben, showing me in very
quietly, 'it is fitter for your height, John. Wait a
moment; there is no hurry.'
Then he slipped out by another door, and closing it
quickly after him, told the foreman and waiting-men
that the business of the day was done. They had better
all go home at once; and he would see to the
fastenings. Of course they were only too glad to go;
but I wondered at his sending them, with at least two
hours of daylight left.
However, that was no business of mine, and I waited,
and pondered whether fair Ruth ever came into this
dirty room, and if so, how she kept her hands from it.
For Annie would have had it upside down in about two
minutes, and scrubbed, and brushed, and dusted, until
it looked quite another place; and yet all this done
without scolding and crossness; which are the curse of
clean women, and ten times worse than the dustiest
dust.
Uncle Ben came reeling in, not from any power of
liquor, but because he was stiff from horseback, and
weak from work and worry.
'Let me be, John, let me be,' he said, as I went to
help him; 'this is an unkind dreary place; but many a
hundred of good gold Carolus has been turned in this
place, John.'
'Not a doubt about it, sir,' I answered in my loud and
cheerful manner; 'and many another hundred, sir; and
may you long enjoy them!'
'My boy, do you wish me to die?' he asked, coming up
close to my stool, and regarding me with a shrewd
though blear-eyed gaze; 'many do. Do you, John?'
'Come,' said I, 'don't ask such nonsense. You know
better than that, Uncle Ben. Or else, I am sorry for
you. I want you to live as long as possible, for the
sake of--' Here I stopped.
'For the sake of what, John? I knew it is not for my
own sake. For the sake of what, my boy?'
'For the sake of Ruth,' I answered; 'if you must have
all the truth. Who is to mind her when you are gone?'
'But if you knew that I had gold, or a manner of
getting gold, far more than ever the sailors got out of
the Spanish galleons, far more than ever was heard of;
and the secret was to be yours, John; yours after me
and no other soul's--then you would wish me dead,
John.' Here he eyed me as if a speck of dust in my eyes
should not escape him.
'You are wrong, Uncle Ben; altogether wrong. For all
the gold ever heard or dreamed of, not a wish would
cross my heart to rob you of one day of life.'
At last he moved his eyes from mine; but without any
word, or sign, to show whether he believed, or
disbelieved. Then he went to a chair, and sat with his
chin upon the ledger-desk; as if the effort of probing
me had been too much for his weary brain. 'Dreamed
of! All the gold ever dreamed of! As if it were but a
dream!' he muttered; and then he closed his eyes to
think.
'Good Uncle Reuben,' I said to him, 'you have been a
long way to-day, sir. Let me go and get you a glass
of good wine. Cousin Ruth knows where to find it.'
'How do you know how far I have been?' he asked, with a
vicious look at me. 'And Cousin Ruth! You are very pat
with my granddaughter's name, young man!'
'It would be hard upon me, sir, not to know my own
cousin's name.'
'Very well. Let that go by. You have behaved very
badly to Ruth. She loves you; and you love her not.'
At this I was so wholly amazed--not at the thing
itself, I mean, but at his knowledge of it--that I
could not say a single word; but looked, no doubt, very
foolish.
'You may well be ashamed, young man,' he cried, with
some triumph over me, 'you are the biggest of all
fools, as well as a conceited coxcomb. What can you
want more than Ruth? She is a little damsel, truly;
but finer men than you, John Ridd, with all your
boasted strength and wrestling, have wedded smaller
maidens. And as for quality, and value--bots! one inch
of Ruth is worth all your seven feet put together.'
Now I am not seven feet high; nor ever was six feet
eight inches, in my very prime of life; and nothing
vexes me so much as to make me out a giant, and above
human sympathy, and human scale of weakness. It cost
me hard to hold my tongue; which luckily is not in
proportion to my stature. And only for Ruth's sake I
held it. But Uncle Ben (being old and worn) was vexed
by not having any answer, almost as much as a woman is.
'You want me to go on,' he continued, with a look of
spite at me, 'about my poor Ruth's love for you, to
feed your cursed vanity. Because a set of asses call
you the finest man in England; there is no maid (I
suppose) who is not in love with you. I believe you
are as deep as you are long, John Ridd. Shall I ever
get to the bottom of your character?'
This was a little too much for me. Any insult I could
take (with goodwill) from a white-haired man, and one
who was my relative; unless it touched my love for
Lorna, or my conscious modesty. Now both of these were
touched to the quick by the sentences of the old
gentleman. Therefore, without a word, I went; only
making a bow to him.
But women who are (beyond all doubt) the mothers of all
mischief, also nurse that babe to sleep, when he is too
noisy. And there was Ruth, as I took my horse (with a
trunk of frippery on him), poor little Ruth was at the
bridle, and rusting all the knops of our town-going
harness with tears.
'Good-bye dear,' I said, as she bent her head away from
me; 'shall I put you up on the saddle, dear?'
'Cousin Ridd, you may take it lightly,' said Ruth,
turning full upon me, 'and very likely you are right,
according to your nature'--this was the only cutting
thing the little soul ever said to me--'but oh, Cousin
Ridd, you have no idea of the pain you will leave
behind you.'
'How can that be so, Ruth, when I am as good as ordered
to be off the premises?'
'In the first place, Cousin Ridd, grandfather will be
angry with himself, for having so ill-used you. And
now he is so weak and poorly, that he is always
repenting. In the next place I shall scold him first,
until he admits his sorrow; and when he has admitted
it, I shall scold myself for scolding him. And then he
will come round again, and think that I was hard on
him; and end perhaps by hating you--for he is like a
woman now, John.'
That last little touch of self-knowledge in Ruth, which
she delivered with a gleam of some secret pleasantry,
made me stop and look closely at her: but she pretended
not to know it. 'There is something in this child,' I
thought, 'very different from other girls. What it is
I cannot tell; for one very seldom gets at it.'
At any rate the upshot was that the good horse went
back to stable, and had another feed of corn, while my
wrath sank within me. There are two things, according
to my experience (which may not hold with another man)
fitted beyond any others to take hot tempers out of us.
The first is to see our favourite creatures feeding,
and licking up their food, and happily snuffling over
it, yet sparing time to be grateful, and showing taste
and perception; the other is to go gardening boldly, in
the spring of the year, without any misgiving about it,
and hoping the utmost of everything. If there be a
third anodyne, approaching these two in power, it is to
smoke good tobacco well, and watch the setting of the
moon; and if this should only be over the sea, the
result is irresistible.
Master Huckaback showed no especial signs of joy at my
return; but received me with a little grunt, which
appeared to me to mean, 'Ah, I thought he would hardly
be fool enough to go.' I told him how sorry I was for
having in some way offended him; and he answered that I
did well to grieve for one at least of my offences. To
this I made no reply, as behoves a man dealing with
cross and fractious people; and presently he became
better-tempered, and sent little Ruth for a bottle of
wine. She gave me a beautiful smile of thanks for my
forbearance as she passed; and I knew by her manner
that she would bring the best bottle in all the cellar.
As I had but little time to spare (although the days
were long and light) we were forced to take our wine
with promptitude and rapidity; and whether this
loosened my uncle's tongue, or whether he meant
beforehand to speak, is now almost uncertain. But true
it is that he brought his chair very near to mine,
after three or four glasses, and sent Ruth away upon
some errand which seemed of small importance. At this
I was vexed, for the room always looked so different
without her.
'Come, Jack,' he said, 'here's your health, young
fellow, and a good and obedient wife to you. Not that
your wife will ever obey you though; you are much too
easy-tempered. Even a bitter and stormy woman might
live in peace with you, Jack. But never you give her
the chance to try. Marry some sweet little thing, if
you can. If not, don't marry any. Ah, we have the
maid to suit you, my lad, in this old town of
Dulverton.'
'Have you so, sir? But perhaps the maid might have no
desire to suit me.'
'That you may take my word she has. The colour of this
wine will prove it. The little sly hussy has been to
the cobwebbed arch of the cellar, where she has no
right to go, for any one under a magistrate. However,
I am glad to see it, and we will not spare it, John.
After my time, somebody, whoever marries little Ruth,
will find some rare wines there, I trow, and perhaps
not know the difference.'
Thinking of this the old man sighed, and expected me to
sigh after him. But a sigh is not (like a yawn)
infectious; and we are all more prone to be sent to
sleep than to sorrow by one another. Not but what a
sigh sometimes may make us think of sighing.
'Well, sir,' cried I, in my sprightliest manner, which
rouses up most people, 'here's to your health and dear
little Ruth's: and may you live to knock off the
cobwebs from every bottle in under the arch. Uncle
Reuben, your life and health, sir?'
With that I took my glass thoughtfully, for it was
wondrous good; and Uncle Ben was pleased to see me
dwelling pleasantly on the subject with parenthesis,
and self-commune, and oral judgment unpronounced,
though smacking of fine decision. 'Curia vult
advisari,' as the lawyers say; which means, 'Let us
have another glass, and then we can think about it.'
'Come now, John,' said Uncle Ben, laying his wrinkled
hand on my knee, when he saw that none could heed us,
'I know that you have a sneaking fondness for my
grandchild Ruth. Don't interrupt me now; you have; and
to deny it will only provoke me.'
'I do like Ruth, sir,' I said boldly, for fear of
misunderstanding; 'but I do not love her.'
'Very well; that makes no difference. Liking may very
soon be loving (as some people call it) when the maid
has money to help her.'
'But if there be, as there is in my case--'
'Once for all, John, not a word. I do not attempt to
lead you into any engagement with little Ruth; neither
will I blame you (though I may be disappointed) if no
such engagement should ever be. But whether you will
have my grandchild, or whether you will not--and such a
chance is rarely offered to a fellow of your
standing'--Uncle Ben despised all farmers--'in any case
I have at least resolved to let you know my secret; and
for two good reasons. The first is that it wears me
out to dwell upon it, all alone, and the second is that
I can trust you to fulfil a promise. Moreover, you
are my next of kin, except among the womankind; and you
are just the man I want, to help me in my enterprise.'
'And I will help you, sir,' I answered, fearing some
conspiracy, 'in anything that is true, and loyal, and
according to the laws of the realm.'
'Ha, ha!' cried the old man, laughing until his eyes
ran over, and spreading out his skinny hands upon his
shining breeches, 'thou hast gone the same fools' track
as the rest; even as spy Stickles went, and all his
precious troopers. Landing of arms at Glenthorne, and
Lynmouth, wagons escorted across the moor, sounds of
metal and booming noises! Ah, but we managed it
cleverly, to cheat even those so near to us.
Disaffection at Taunton, signs of insurrection at
Dulverton, revolutionary tanner at Dunster! We set it
all abroad, right well. And not even you to suspect
our work; though we thought at one time that you
watched us. Now who, do you suppose, is at the bottom
of all this Exmoor insurgency, all this western
rebellion--not that I say there is none, mind--but who
is at the bottom of it?'
'Either Mother Melldrum,' said I, being now a little
angry, 'or else old Nick himself.'
'Nay, old Uncle Reuben!' Saying this, Master Huckaback
cast back his coat, and stood up, and made the most of
himself.
'Well!' cried I, being now quite come to the limits of
my intellect, 'then, after all, Captain Stickles was
right in calling you a rebel, sir!'
'Of course he was; could so keen a man be wrong about
an old fool like me? But come, and see our rebellion,
John. I will trust you now with everything. I will
take no oath from you; only your word to keep silence;
and most of all from your mother.'
'I will give you my word,' I said, although liking not
such pledges; which make a man think before he speaks
in ordinary company, against his usual practices.
However, I was now so curious, that I thought of
nothing else; and scarcely could believe at all that
Uncle Ben was quite right in his head.
'Take another glass of wine, my son,' he cried with a
cheerful countenance, which made him look more than ten
years younger; 'you shall come into partnership with
me: your strength will save us two horses, and we
always fear the horse work. Come and see our
rebellion, my boy; you are a made man from to-night.'
'But where am I to come and see it? Where am I to find
it, sir?'
'Meet me,' he answered, yet closing his hands, and
wrinkling with doubt his forehead, 'come alone, of
course; and meet me at the Wizard's Slough, at ten
to-morrow morning.'
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