CHAPTER LIII
JEREMY FINDS OUT SOMETHING
'You know, my son,' said Jeremy Stickles, with a good pull at his pipe,because he was going to talk so much, and putting his legs well alongthe settle; 'it has been my duty, for a wearier time than I care tothink of (and which would have been unbearable, except for your greatkindness), to search this neighbourhood narrowly, and learn everythingabout everybody. Now the neighbourhood itself is queer; and peoplehave different ways of thinking from what we are used to in London. Forinstance now, among your folk, when any piece of news is told, or anyman's conduct spoken of, the very first question that arises in yourmind is this--"Was this action kind and good?" Long after that, you sayto yourselves, "does the law enjoin or forbid this thing?" Now hereis your fundamental error: for among all truly civilised people theforemost of all questions is, "how stands the law herein?" And if thelaw approve, no need for any further questioning. That this is so, youmay take my word: for I know the law pretty thoroughly.
'Very well; I need not say any more about that, for I have shown thatyou are all quite wrong. I only speak of this savage tendency, becauseit explains so many things which have puzzled me among you, and most ofall your kindness to men whom you never saw before; which is an utterlyillegal thing. It also explains your toleration of these outlaw Doonesso long. If your views of law had been correct, and law an element ofyour lives, these robbers could never have been indulged for so manyyears amongst you: but you must have abated the nuisance.'
'Now, Stickles,' I cried, 'this is too bad!' he was delivering himselfso grandly. 'Why you yourself have been amongst us, as the balance, andsceptre, and sword of law, for nigh upon a twelvemonth; and have youabated the nuisance, or even cared to do it, until they began to shootat you?'
'My son,' he replied, 'your argument is quite beside the purpose, andonly tends to prove more clearly that which I have said of you. However,if you wish to hear my story, no more interruptions. I may not have achance to tell you, perhaps for weeks, or I know not when, if once thoseyellows and reds arrive, and be blessed to them, the lubbers! Well,it may be six months ago, or it may be seven, at any rate a good whilebefore that cursed frost began, the mere name of which sends a shiverdown every bone of my body, when I was riding one afternoon fromDulverton to Watchett'--
'Dulverton to Watchett!' I cried. 'Now what does that remind me of? I amsure, I remember something--'
'Remember this, John, if anything--that another word from thee, and thouhast no more of mine. Well, I was a little weary perhaps, having beenplagued at Dulverton with the grossness of the people. For they wouldtell me nothing at all about their fellow-townsmen, your worthy UncleHuckaback, except that he was a God-fearing man, and they only wishedI was like him. I blessed myself for a stupid fool, in thinking to havepumped them; for by this time I might have known that, through yourWestern homeliness, every man in his own country is something more thana prophet. And I felt, of course, that I had done more harm than good byquestioning; inasmuch as every soul in the place would run straightwayand inform him that the King's man from the other side of the forest hadbeen sifting out his ways and works.'
'Ah,' I cried, for I could not help it; 'you begin to understand atlast, that we are not quite such a set of oafs, as you at first believedus.'
'I was riding on from Dulverton,' he resumed, with great severity, yetthreatening me no more, which checked me more than fifty threats: 'andit was late in the afternoon, and I was growing weary. The road (if roadit could be called) 'turned suddenly down from the higher land to thevery brink of the sea; and rounding a little jut of cliff, I met theroar of the breakers. My horse was scared, and leaped aside; for anortherly wind was piping, and driving hunks of foam across, as childrenscatter snow-balls. But he only sank to his fetlocks in the dry sand,piled with pop-weed: and I tried to make him face the waves; and then Ilooked about me.
'Watchett town was not to be seen, on account of a little foreland, amile or more upon my course, and standing to the right of me. There wasroom enough below the cliffs (which are nothing there to yours, John),for horse and man to get along, although the tide was running high witha northerly gale to back it. But close at hand and in the corner, drawnabove the yellow sands and long eye-brows of rackweed, as snug a littlehouse blinked on me as ever I saw, or wished to see.
'You know that I am not luxurious, neither in any way given to thecommon lusts of the flesh, John. My father never allowed his hair togrow a fourth part of an inch in length, and he was a thoroughly godlyman; and I try to follow in his footsteps, whenever I think about it.Nevertheless, I do assure you that my view of that little house and theway the lights were twinkling, so different from the cold and darknessof the rolling sea, moved the ancient Adam in me, if he could be foundto move. I love not a house with too many windows: being out of houseand doors some three-quarters of my time, when I get inside a house Ilike to feel the difference. Air and light are good for people who haveany lack of them; and if a man once talks about them, 'tis enough toprove his need of them. But, as you well know, John Ridd, the horse whohas been at work all day, with the sunshine in his eyes, sleeps betterin dark stables, and needs no moon to help him.
'Seeing therefore that this same inn had four windows, and no more,I thought to myself how snug it was, and how beautiful I could sleepthere. And so I made the old horse draw hand, which he was only too gladto do, and we clomb above the spring-tide mark, and over a little pieceof turf, and struck the door of the hostelry. Some one came and peepedat me through the lattice overhead, which was full of bulls' eyes; andthen the bolt was drawn back, and a woman met me very courteously. Adark and foreign-looking woman, very hot of blood, I doubt, but notaltogether a bad one. And she waited for me to speak first, which anEnglishwoman would not have done.
'"Can I rest here for the night?" I asked, with a lift of my hat to her;for she was no provincial dame, who would stare at me for the courtesy;"my horse is weary from the sloughs, and myself but little better:beside that, we both are famished."
'"Yes, sir, you can rest and welcome. But of food, I fear, there is butlittle, unless of the common order. Our fishers would have drawn thenets, but the waves were violent. However, we have--what you call it? Inever can remember, it is so hard to say--the flesh of the hog salted."
'"Bacon!" said I; "what can be better? And half dozen of eggs with it,and a quart of fresh-drawn ale. You make me rage with hunger, madam. Isit cruelty, or hospitality?"
'"Ah, good!" she replied, with a merry smile, full of southern sunshine:"you are not of the men round here; you can think, and you can laugh!"
'"And most of all, I can eat, good madam. In that way I shall astonishyou; even more than by my intellect."
'She laughed aloud, and swung her shoulders, as your natives cannot do;and then she called a little maid to lead my horse to stable. However,I preferred to see that matter done myself, and told her to send thelittle maid for the frying-pan and the egg-box.
'Whether it were my natural wit and elegance of manner; or whether itwere my London freedom and knowledge of the world; or (which is perhapsthe most probable, because the least pleasing supposition) my ready andpermanent appetite, and appreciation of garlic--I leave you to decide,John: but perhaps all three combined to recommend me to the graces of mycharming hostess. When I say "charming," I mean of course by mannersand by intelligence, and most of all by cooking; for as regards externalcharms (most fleeting and fallacious) hers had ceased to cause distress,for I cannot say how many years. She said that it was the climate--foreven upon that subject she requested my opinion--and I answered, "ifthere be a change, let madam blame the seasons."
'However, not to dwell too much upon our little pleasantries (for Ialways get on with these foreign women better than with your Molls andPegs), I became, not inquisitive, but reasonably desirous to know, bywhat strange hap or hazard, a clever and a handsome woman, as she musthave been some day, a woman moreover with great contempt for the rusticminds around her, could have settled here in
this lonely inn, withonly the waves for company, and a boorish husband who slaved all day inturning a potter's wheel at Watchett. And what was the meaning of theemblem set above her doorway, a very unattractive cat sitting in aruined tree?
'However, I had not very long to strain my curiosity; for when she foundout who I was, and how I held the King's commission, and might be calledan officer, her desire to tell me all was more than equal to mineof hearing it. Many and many a day, she had longed for some one bothskilful and trustworthy, most of all for some one bearing warrant froma court of justice. But the magistrates of the neighbourhood would havenothing to say to her, declaring that she was a crack-brained woman, anda wicked, and even a foreign one.
'With many grimaces she assured me that never by her own free-will wouldshe have lived so many years in that hateful country, where the sky forhalf the year was fog, and rain for nearly the other half. It was sothe very night when first her evil fortune brought her there; and so nodoubt it would be, long after it had killed her. But if I wished to knowthe reason of her being there, she would tell me in few words, which Iwill repeat as briefly.
'By birth she was an Italian, from the mountains of Apulia, who hadgone to Rome to seek her fortunes, after being badly treated in somelove-affair. Her Christian name was Benita; as for her surname, thatcould make no difference to any one. Being a quick and active girl,and resolved to work down her troubles, she found employment in a largehotel; and rising gradually, began to send money to her parents. Andhere she might have thriven well, and married well under sunny skies,and been a happy woman, but that some black day sent thither a rich andnoble English family, eager to behold the Pope. It was not, however,their fervent longing for the Holy Father which had brought them to St.Peter's roof; but rather their own bad luck in making their home toohot to hold them. For although in the main good Catholics, and pleasantreceivers of anything, one of their number had given offence, by thefolly of trying to think for himself. Some bitter feud had been amongthem, Benita knew not how it was; and the sister of the nobleman whohad died quite lately was married to the rival claimant, whom they alldetested. It was something about dividing land; Benita knew not what itwas.
'But this Benita did know, that they were all great people, and rich,and very liberal; so that when they offered to take her, to attend tothe children, and to speak the language for them, and to comfort thelady, she was only too glad to go, little foreseeing the end of it.Moreover, she loved the children so, from their pretty ways and that,and the things they gave her, and the style of their dresses, that itwould have broken her heart almost never to see the dears again.
'And so, in a very evil hour, she accepted the service of the nobleEnglishman, and sent her father an old shoe filled to the tongue withmoney, and trusted herself to fortune. But even before she went, sheknew that it could not turn out well; for the laurel leaf which shethrew on the fire would not crackle even once, and the horn of the goatcame wrong in the twist, and the heel of her foot was shining. This madeher sigh at the starting-time; and after that what could you hope for?
'However, at first all things went well. My Lord was as gay as gay couldbe: and never would come inside the carriage, when a decent horse couldbe got to ride. He would gallop in front, at a reckless pace, without aweapon of any kind, delighted with the pure blue air, and throwing hisheart around him. Benita had never seen any man so admirable, and sochildish. As innocent as an infant; and not only contented, but noisilyhappy with anything. Only other people must share his joy; and theshadow of sorrow scattered it, though it were but the shade of poverty.
'Here Benita wept a little; and I liked her none the less, and believedher ten times more; in virtue of a tear or two.
'And so they travelled through Northern Italy, and throughout the southof France, making their way anyhow; sometimes in coaches, sometimes incarts, sometimes upon mule-back, sometimes even a-foot and weary; butalways as happy as could be. The children laughed, and grew, and throve(especially the young lady, the elder of the two), and Benita beganto think that omens must not be relied upon. But suddenly her faith inomens was confirmed for ever.
'My Lord, who was quite a young man still, and laughed at Englisharrogance, rode on in front of his wife and friends, to catch the firstof a famous view, on the French side of the Pyrenee hills. He kissed hishand to his wife, and said that he would save her the trouble of coming.For those two were so one in one, that they could make each other knowwhatever he or she had felt. And so my Lord went round the corner, witha fine young horse leaping up at the steps.
'They waited for him, long and long; but he never came again; and withina week, his mangled body lay in a little chapel-yard; and if the priestsonly said a quarter of the prayers they took the money for, God knowsthey can have no throats left; only a relaxation.
'My lady dwelled for six months more--it is a melancholy tale (what truetale is not so?)--scarcely able to believe that all her fright was not adream. She would not wear a piece or shape of any mourning-clothes;she would not have a person cry, or any sorrow among us. She simplydisbelieved the thing, and trusted God to right it. The Protestants, whohave no faith, cannot understand this feeling. Enough that so it was;and so my Lady went to heaven.
'For when the snow came down in autumn on the roots of the Pyrenees, andthe chapel-yard was white with it, many people told the lady that it wastime for her to go. And the strongest plea of all was this, that now shebore another hope of repeating her husband's virtues. So at the end ofOctober, when wolves came down to the farm-lands, the little Englishfamily went home towards their England.
'They landed somewhere on the Devonshire coast, ten or eleven yearsagone, and stayed some days at Exeter; and set out thence in a hiredcoach, without any proper attendance, for Watchett, in the north ofSomerset. For the lady owned a quiet mansion in the neighbourhood ofthat town, and her one desire was to find refuge there, and to meet herlord, who was sure to come (she said) when he heard of his new infant.Therefore with only two serving-men and two maids (including Benita),the party set forth from Exeter, and lay the first night at Bampton.
'On the following morn they started bravely, with earnest hope ofarriving at their journey's end by daylight. But the roads were soft andvery deep, and the sloughs were out in places; and the heavy coach brokedown in the axle, and needed mending at Dulverton and so they lostthree hours or more, and would have been wiser to sleep there. But herladyship would not hear of it; she must be home that night, she said,and her husband would be waiting. How could she keep him waiting now,after such a long, long time?
'Therefore, although it was afternoon, and the year now come toDecember, the horses were put to again, and the heavy coach went up thehill, with the lady and her two children, and Benita, sitting insideof it; the other maid, and two serving-men (each man with a greatblunderbuss) mounted upon the outside; and upon the horses three Exeterpostilions. Much had been said at Dulverton, and even back at Bampton,about some great freebooters, to whom all Exmoor owed suit and service,and paid them very punctually. Both the serving-men were scared, evenover their ale, by this. But the lady only said, "Drive on I know alittle of highwaymen: they never rob a lady."
'Through the fog and through the muck the coach went on, as bestit might; sometimes foundered in a slough, with half of the horsessplashing it, and some-times knuckled up on a bank, and straining acrossthe middle, while all the horses kicked at it. However, they went ontill dark as well as might be expected. But when they came, all thankingGod, to the pitch and slope of the sea-bank, leading on towards Watchetttown, and where my horse had shied so, there the little boy jumped up,and clapped his hands at the water; and there (as Benita said) they mettheir fate, and could not fly it.
'Although it was past the dusk of day, the silver light from the seaflowed in, and showed the cliffs, and the gray sand-line, and the driftsof wreck, and wrack-weed. It showed them also a troop of horsemen,waiting under a rock hard by, and ready to dash upon them. Thepostilions lashed towards the sea, and the ho
rses strove in the depth ofsand, and the serving-men cocked their blunder-busses, and cowered awaybehind them; but the lady stood up in the carriage bravely, and neitherscreamed nor spoke, but hid her son behind her. Meanwhile the driversdrove into the sea, till the leading horses were swimming.
'But before the waves came into the coach, a score of fierce men wereround it. They cursed the postilions for mad cowards, and cut thetraces, and seized the wheel-horses, all-wild with dismay in the wet andthe dark. Then, while the carriage was heeling over, and well-nigh upsetin the water, the lady exclaimed, "I know that man! He is our ancientenemy;" and Benita (foreseeing that all their boxes would be turnedinside out, or carried away), snatched the most valuable of the jewels,a magnificent necklace of diamonds, and cast it over the little girl'shead, and buried it under her travelling-cloak, hoping to save it. Thena great wave, crested with foam, rolled in, and the coach was thrownon its side, and the sea rushed in at the top and the windows, uponshrieking, and clashing, and fainting away.
'What followed Benita knew not, as one might well suppose, herself beingstunned by a blow on the head, beside being palsied with terror. "See,I have the mark now," she said, "where the jamb of the door came down onme!" But when she recovered her senses, she found herself lying uponthe sand, the robbers were out of sight, and one of the serving-men wasbathing her forehead with sea water. For this she rated him well, havingtaken already too much of that article; and then she arose and ran toher mistress, who was sitting upright on a little rock, with her deadboy's face to her bosom, sometimes gazing upon him, and sometimesquesting round for the other one.
'Although there were torches and links around, and she looked at herchild by the light of them, no one dared to approach the lady, or speak,or try to help her. Each man whispered his fellow to go, but each hungback himself, and muttered that it was too awful to meddle with. Andthere she would have sat all night, with the fine little fellow stonedead in her arms, and her tearless eyes dwelling upon him, and her heartbut not her mind thinking, only that the Italian women stole up softlyto her side, and whispered, "It is the will of God."
'"So it always seems to be," were all the words the mother' answered;and then she fell on Benita's neck; and the men were ashamed to be nearher weeping; and a sailor lay down and bellowed. Surely these men arethe best.
'Before the light of the morning came along the tide to Watchett my Ladyhad met her husband. They took her into the town that night, but notto her own castle; and so the power of womanhood (which is itselfmaternity) came over swiftly upon her. The lady, whom all peopleloved (though at certain times particular), lies in Watchett littlechurchyard, with son and heir at her right hand, and a little babe, ofsex unknown, sleeping on her bosom.
'This is a miserable tale,' said Jeremy Stickles brightly; 'hand meover the schnapps, my boy. What fools we are to spoil our eyes for otherpeople's troubles! Enough of our own to keep them clean, although weall were chimney-sweeps. There is nothing like good hollands, when aman becomes too sensitive. Restore the action of the glands; that ismy rule, after weeping. Let me make you another, John. You are quitelow-spirited.'
But although Master Jeremy carried on so (as became his manhood), andlaughed at the sailor's bellowing; bless his heart, I knew as well thattears were in his brave keen eyes, as if I had dared to look for them,or to show mine own.
'And what was the lady's name?' I asked; 'and what became of the littlegirl? And why did the woman stay there?'
'Well!' cried Jeremy Stickles, only too glad to be cheerful again: 'talkof a woman after that! As we used to say at school--"Who dragged whom,how many times, in what manner, round the wall of what?" But to begin,last first, my John (as becomes a woman): Benita stayed in that blessedplace, because she could not get away from it. The Doones--if Doonesindeed they were, about which you of course know best--took every stiverout of the carriage: wet or dry they took it. And Benita could never gether wages: for the whole affair is in Chancery, and they have appointeda receiver.'
'Whew!' said I, knowing something of London, and sorry for Benita'schance.
'So the poor thing was compelled to drop all thought of Apulia, andsettle down on the brink of Exmoor, where you get all its evils, withoutthe good to balance them. She married a man who turned a wheel formaking the blue Watchett ware, partly because he could give her a house,and partly because he proved himself a good soul towards my Lady. Therethey are, and have three children; and there you may go and visit them.'
'I understand all that, Jeremy, though you do tell things too quickly,and I would rather have John Fry's style; for he leaves one time forhis words to melt. Now for my second question. What became of the littlemaid?'
'You great oaf!' cried Jeremy Stickles: 'you are rather more likely toknow, I should think, than any one else in all the kingdoms.'
'If I knew, I should not ask you. Jeremy Stickles, do try to be neitherconceited nor thick-headed.'
'I will when you are neither,' answered Master Jeremy; 'but you occupyall the room, John. No one else can get in with you there.'
'Very well then, let me out. Take me down in both ways.'
'If ever you were taken down; you must have your double joints readynow. And yet in other ways you will be as proud and set up as Lucifer.As certain sure as I stand here, that little maid is Lorna Doone.'
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 54