CHAPTER XLI
COLD COMFORT
All things being full of flaw, all things being full of holes, thestrength of all things is in shortness. If Sir Ensor Doone had dwelledfor half an hour upon himself, and an hour perhaps upon Lorna and me,we must both have wearied of him, and required change of air. But nowI longed to see and know a great deal more about him, and hoped that hemight not go to Heaven for at least a week or more. However, he was toogood for this world (as we say of all people who leave it); and I verilybelieve his heart was not a bad one, after all.
Evil he had done, no doubt, as evil had been done to him; yet how manyhave done evil, while receiving only good! Be that as it may; and notvexing a question (settled for ever without our votes), let us own thathe was, at least, a brave and courteous gentleman.
And his loss aroused great lamentation, not among the Doones alone, andthe women they had carried off, but also of the general public, and manyeven of the magistrates, for several miles round Exmoor. And this,not only from fear lest one more wicked might succeed him (as appearedindeed too probable), but from true admiration of his strong will, andsympathy with his misfortunes.
I will not deceive any one, by saying that Sir Ensor Doone gave (in somany words) his consent to my resolve about Lorna. This he never did,except by his speech last written down; from which as he mentionedgrandchildren, a lawyer perhaps might have argued it. Not but what hemay have meant to bestow on us his blessing; only that he died next day,without taking the trouble to do it.
He called indeed for his box of snuff, which was a very high thing totake; and which he never took without being in very good humour, atleast for him. And though it would not go up his nostrils, through thefailure of his breath, he was pleased to have it there, and not to thinkof dying.
'Will your honour have it wiped?' I asked him very softly, for thebrown appearance of it spoiled (to my idea) his white mostacchio; buthe seemed to shake his head; and I thought it kept his spirits up. I hadnever before seen any one do, what all of us have to do some day; and itgreatly kept my spirits down, although it did not so very much frightenme.
For it takes a man but a little while, his instinct being of deathperhaps, at least as much as of life (which accounts for his slaying hisfellow men so, and every other creature), it does not take a man verylong to enter into another man's death, and bring his own mood to suitit. He knows that his own is sure to come; and nature is fond of thepractice. Hence it came to pass that I, after easing my mother's fears,and seeing a little to business, returned (as if drawn by a polarneedle) to the death-bed of Sir Ensor.
There was some little confusion, people wanting to get away, and peopletrying to come in, from downright curiosity (of all things the mosthateful), and others making great to-do, and talking of their own timeto come, telling their own age, and so on. But every one seemed tothink, or feel, that I had a right to be there; because the women tookthat view of it. As for Carver and Counsellor, they were minding theirown affairs, so as to win the succession and never found it in theirbusiness (at least so long as I was there) to come near the dying man.
He, for his part, never asked for any one to come near him, not evena priest, nor a monk or friar; but seemed to be going his own way,peaceful, and well contented. Only the chief of the women said that fromhis face she believed and knew that he liked to have me at one side ofhis bed, and Lorna upon the other. An hour or two ere the old man died,when only we two were with him, he looked at us both very dimly andsoftly, as if he wished to do something for us, but had left it now toolate. Lorna hoped that he wanted to bless us; but he only frowned atthat, and let his hand drop downward, and crooked one knotted finger.
'He wants something out of the bed, dear,' Lorna whispered to me; 'seewhat it is, upon your side, there.'
I followed the bent of his poor shrunken hand, and sought among thepilings; and there I felt something hard and sharp, and drew it forthand gave it to him. It flashed, like the spray of a fountain upon us, inthe dark winter of the room. He could not take it in his hand, but letit hang, as daisies do; only making Lorna see that he meant her to haveit.
'Why, it is my glass necklace!' Lorna cried, in great surprise; 'mynecklace he always promised me; and from which you have got the ring,John. But grandfather kept it, because the children wanted to pull itfrom my neck. May I have it now, dear grandfather? Not unless you wish,dear.'
Darling Lorna wept again, because the old man could not tell her (exceptby one very feeble nod) that she was doing what he wished. Then she gaveto me the trinket, for the sake of safety; and I stowed it in my breast.He seemed to me to follow this, and to be well content with it.
Before Sir Ensor Doone was buried, the greatest frost of the centuryhad set in, with its iron hand, and step of stone, on everything. Howit came is not my business, nor can I explain it; because I never havewatched the skies; as people now begin to do, when the ground is not totheir liking. Though of all this I know nothing, and less than nothing Imay say (because I ought to know something); I can hear what people tellme; and I can see before my eyes.
The strong men broke three good pickaxes, ere they got through the hardbrown sod, streaked with little maps of gray where old Sir Ensor was tolie, upon his back, awaiting the darkness of the Judgment-day. It was inthe little chapel-yard; I will not tell the name of it; because we arenow such Protestants, that I might do it an evil turn; only it was thelittle place where Lorna's Aunt Sabina lay.
Here was I, remaining long, with a little curiosity; because some peopletold me plainly that I must be damned for ever by a Papist funeral; andhere came Lorna, scarcely breathing through the thick of stuff aroundher, yet with all her little breath steaming on the air, like frost.
I stood apart from the ceremony, in which of course I was not entitled,either by birth or religion, to bear any portion and indeed it wouldhave been wiser in me to have kept away altogether; for now there was noone to protect me among those wild and lawless men; and both Carverand the Counsellor had vowed a fearful vengeance on me, as I heard fromGwenny. They had not dared to meddle with me while the chief lay dying;nor was it in their policy, for a short time after that, to endangertheir succession by an open breach with Lorna, whose tender age andbeauty held so many of the youths in thrall.
The ancient outlaw's funeral was a grand and moving sight; more perhapsfrom the sense of contrast than from that of fitness. To see those darkand mighty men, inured to all of sin and crime, reckless both of man andGod, yet now with heads devoutly bent, clasped hands, and downcast eyes,following the long black coffin of their common ancestor, to the placewhere they must join him when their sum of ill was done; and to see thefeeble priest chanting, over the dead form, words the living wouldhave laughed at, sprinkling with his little broom drops that could notpurify; while the children, robed in white, swung their smoking censersslowly over the cold and twilight grave; and after seeing all, to ask,with a shudder unexpressed, 'Is this the end that God intended for a manso proud and strong?'
Not a tear was shed upon him, except from the sweetest of all sweeteyes; not a sigh pursued him home. Except in hot anger, his life hadbeen cold, and bitter, and distant; and now a week had exhausted allthe sorrow of those around him, a grief flowing less from affection thanfear. Aged men will show his tombstone; mothers haste with their infantsby it; children shrink from the name upon it, until in time his historyshall lapse and be forgotten by all except the great Judge and God.
After all was over, I strode across the moors very sadly; trying tokeep the cold away by virtue of quick movement. Not a flake of snow hadfallen yet; all the earth was caked and hard, with a dry brown crustupon it; all the sky was banked with darkness, hard, austere, andfrowning. The fog of the last three weeks was gone, neither did anyrime remain; but all things had a look of sameness, and a kind of furzycolour. It was freezing hard and sharp, with a piercing wind to back it;and I had observed that the holy water froze upon Sir Ensor's coffin.
One thing struck me with some surprise, as I ma
de off for our fireside(with a strong determination to heave an ash-tree up the chimney-place),and that was how the birds were going, rather than flying as they usedto fly. All the birds were set in one direction, steadily journeyingwestward, not with any heat of speed, neither flying far at once; butall (as if on business bound), partly running, partly flying, partlyfluttering along; silently, and without a voice, neither pricking headnor tail. This movement of the birds went on, even for a week or more;every kind of thrushes passed us, every kind of wild fowl, even ploverswent away, and crows, and snipes and wood-cocks. And before half thefrost was over, all we had in the snowy ditches were hares so tame thatwe could pat them; partridges that came to hand, with a dry noise intheir crops; heath-poults, making cups of snow; and a few poor hoppingredwings, flipping in and out the hedge, having lost the power to fly.And all the time their great black eyes, set with gold around them,seemed to look at any man, for mercy and for comfort.
Annie took a many of them, all that she could find herself, and all theboys would bring her; and she made a great hutch near the fire, in theback-kitchen chimney-place. Here, in spite of our old Betty (who sadlywanted to roast them), Annie kept some fifty birds, with bread and milk,and raw chopped meat, and all the seed she could think of, and lumps ofrotten apples, placed to tempt them, in the corners. Some got on, andsome died off; and Annie cried for all that died, and buried them underthe woodrick; but, I do assure you, it was a pretty thing to see, whenshe went to them in the morning. There was not a bird but knew her well,after one day of comforting; and some would come to her hand, and sit,and shut one eye, and look at her. Then she used to stroke their heads,and feel their breasts, and talk to them; and not a bird of them all wasthere but liked to have it done to him. And I do believe they would eatfrom her hand things unnatural to them, lest she should he grieved andhurt by not knowing what to do for them. One of them was a noble bird,such as I never had seen before, of very fine bright plumage, and largerthan a missel-thrush. He was the hardest of all to please: and yet hetried to do his best. I have heard since then, from a man who knows allabout birds, and beasts, and fishes, that he must have been a Norwegianbird, called in this country a Roller, who never comes to England but inthe most tremendous winters.
Another little bird there was, whom I longed to welcome home, andprotect from enemies, a little bird no native to us, but than anynative dearer. But lo, in the very night which followed old Sir Ensor'sfuneral, such a storm of snow began as never have I heard nor read of,neither could have dreamed it. At what time of night it first began ismore than I can say, at least from my own knowledge, for we all went tobed soon after supper, being cold and not inclined to talk. At that timethe wind was moaning sadly, and the sky as dark as a wood, and the strawin the yard swirling round and round, and the cows huddling into thegreat cowhouse, with their chins upon one another. But we, being blinderthan they, I suppose, and not having had a great snow for years, madeno preparation against the storm, except that the lambing ewes were inshelter.
It struck me, as I lay in bed, that we were acting foolishly; for anancient shepherd had dropped in and taken supper with us, and foretold aheavy fall and great disaster to live stock. He said that he had knowna frost beginning, just as this had done, with a black east wind, afterdays of raw cold fog, and then on the third night of the frost, at thisvery time of year (to wit on the 15th of December) such a snow set inas killed half of the sheep and many even of the red deer and the forestponies. It was three-score years agone,* he said; and cause he had toremember it, inasmuch as two of his toes had been lost by frost-nip,while he dug out his sheep on the other side of the Dunkery. Hereuponmother nodded at him, having heard from her father about it, and howthree men had been frozen to death, and how badly their stockings cameoff from them.
* The frost of 1625.
Remembering how the old man looked, and his manner of listening to thewind and shaking his head very ominously (when Annie gave him a glassof schnapps), I grew quite uneasy in my bed, as the room got colder andcolder; and I made up my mind, if it only pleased God not to send thesnow till the morning, that every sheep, and horse, and cow, ay, andeven the poultry, should be brought in snug, and with plenty to eat, andfodder enough to roast them.
Alas what use of man's resolves, when they come a day too late; even ifthey may avail a little, when they are most punctual!
In the bitter morning I arose, to follow out my purpose, knowing thetime from the force of habit, although the room was so dark and gray.An odd white light was on the rafters, such as I never had seen before;while all the length of the room was grisly, like the heart of a mouldyoat-rick. I went to the window at once, of course; and at first I couldnot understand what was doing outside of it. It faced due east (as I mayhave said), with the walnut-tree partly sheltering it; and generally Icould see the yard, and the woodrick, and even the church beyond.
But now, half the lattice was quite blocked up, as if plastered withgray lime; and little fringes, like ferns, came through, where thejoining of the lead was; and in the only undarkened part, countless dotscame swarming, clustering, beating with a soft, low sound, then glidingdown in a slippery manner, not as drops of rain do, but each distinctfrom his neighbour. Inside the iron frame (which fitted, not to say toocomfortably, and went along the stonework), at least a peck of snow hadentered, following its own bend and fancy; light as any cobweb.
With some trouble, and great care, lest the ancient frame should yield,I spread the lattice open; and saw at once that not a moment must belost, to save our stock. All the earth was flat with snow, all the airwas thick with snow; more than this no man could see, for all the worldwas snowing.
I shut the window and dressed in haste; and when I entered the kitchen,not even Betty, the earliest of all early birds, was there. I raked theashes together a little, just to see a spark of warmth; and then setforth to find John Fry, Jem Slocombe, and Bill Dadds. But this waseasier thought than done; for when I opened the courtyard door, Iwas taken up to my knees at once, and the power of the drifting cloudprevented sight of anything. However, I found my way to the woodrick,and there got hold of a fine ash-stake, cut by myself not long ago. Withthis I ploughed along pretty well, and thundered so hard at JohnFry's door, that he thought it was the Doones at least, and cocked hisblunderbuss out of the window.
John was very loth to come down, when he saw the meaning of it; for hevalued his life more than anything else; though he tried to make outthat his wife was to blame. But I settled his doubts by telling him,that I would have him on my shoulder naked, unless he came in fiveminutes; not that he could do much good, but because the other men wouldbe sure to skulk, if he set them the example. With spades, and shovels,and pitch-forks, and a round of roping, we four set forth to dig out thesheep; and the poor things knew that it was high time.
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 42