CHAPTER LVII
LORNA KNOWS HER NURSE
Having obtained from Benita Odam a very close and full description ofthe 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 thechurchyard at sunrise.
In the farthest and darkest nook, overgrown with grass, and overhung bya weeping-tree a little bank of earth betokened the rounding off of ahapless life. There was nothing to tell of rank, or wealth, of love, oreven pity; nameless as a peasant lay the last (as supposed) of a mightyrace. Only some unskilful hand, probably Master Odam's under his wife'steaching, had carved a rude L., and a ruder D., upon a large pebble fromthe beach, and set it up as a headstone.
I gathered a little grass for Lorna and a sprig of the weeping-tree, andthen 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 rideit rapidly, as the Doones had done on that fatal night, to travelon 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 couldnot well be left behind. The wife of the man who owned the cart hadundertaken to mind the business, and the other babies, upon condition ofhaving the keys of all the taps left with her.
As the manner of journeying over the moor has been described oft enoughalready, I will say no more, except that we all arrived before duskof the summer's day, safe at Plover's Barrows. Mistress Benita wasdelighted with the change from her dull hard life; and she made manyexcellent observations, such as seem natural to a foreigner looking atour country.
As luck would have it, the first who came to meet us at the gate wasLorna, with nothing whatever upon her head (the weather being summerly)but her beautiful hair shed round her; and wearing a sweet white frocktucked in, and showing her figure perfectly. In her joy she ran straightup to the cart; and then stopped and gazed at Benita. At one glance herold nurse knew her: 'Oh, the eyes, the eyes!' she cried, and was overthe 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 thoughhaving right to know much about her, and yet unable to do so. But whenthe foreign woman said something in Roman language, and flung new hayfrom the cart upon her, as if in a romp of childhood, the young maidcried, 'Oh, Nita, Nita!' and fell upon her breast, and wept; and afterthat looked round at us.
This being so, there could be no doubt as to the power of proving LadyLorna's birth, and rights, both by evidence and token. For though we hadnot the necklace now--thanks to Annie's wisdom--we had the ring of heavygold, a very ancient relic, with which my maid (in her simple way) hadpledged herself to me. And Benita knew this ring as well as she knew herown fingers, having heard a long history about it; and the effigy on itof the wild cat was the bearing of the house of Lorne.
For though Lorna's father was a nobleman of high and goodly lineage, hermother was of yet more ancient and renowned descent, being the lastin line direct from the great and kingly chiefs of Lorne. A wild andheadstrong race they were, and must have everything their own way. Hotblood was ever among them, even of one household; and their sovereignty(which more than once had defied the King of Scotland) waned and fellamong themselves, by continual quarrelling. And it was of a piece withthis, that the Doones (who were an offset, by the mother's side, holdingin co-partnership some large property, which had come by the spindle, aswe say) should fall out with the Earl of Lorne, the last but one of thattitle.
The daughter of this nobleman had married Sir Ensor Doone; but this,instead of healing matters, led to fiercer conflict. I never could quiteunderstand all the ins and outs of it; which none but a lawyer may gothrough, and keep his head at the end of it. The motives of mankind areplainer than the motions they produce. Especially when charity (suchas 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 forfee or title.
Therefore it is enough to say, that knowing Lorna to be direct inheirship to vast property, and bearing especial spite against the houseof which she was the last, the Doones had brought her up with fullintention of lawful marriage; and had carefully secluded her from thewildest of their young gallants. Of course, if they had been next insuccession, the child would have gone down the waterfall, to save anyfurther trouble; but there was an intercepting branch of some honestfamily; and they being outlaws, would have a poor chance (though the lawloves outlaws) against them. Only Lorna was of the stock; and Lorna theymust marry. And what a triumph against the old earl, for a cursed Dooneto succeed him!
As for their outlawry, great robberies, and grand murders, the veriestchild, nowadays, must know that money heals the whole of that. Even ifthey had murdered people of a good position, it would only cost abouttwice as much to prove their motives loyal. But they had never slain anyman above the rank of yeoman; and folk even said that my father was thehighest of their victims; for the death of Lorna's mother and brotherwas never set to their account.
Pure pleasure it is to any man, to reflect upon all these things. Howtruly we discern clear justice, and how well we deal it. If any poorman steals a sheep, having ten children starving, and regarding it asmountain game (as a rich man does a hare), to the gallows with him. Ifa man of rank beats down a door, smites the owner upon the head, andhonours the wife with attention, it is a thing to be grateful for, andto slouch smitten head the lower.
While we were full of all these things, and wondering what would happennext, or what we ought ourselves to do, another very important mattercalled for our attention. This was no less than Annie's marriage to theSquire Faggus. We had tried to put it off again; for in spite of alladvantages, neither my mother nor myself had any real heart for it. Notthat we dwelled upon Tom's short-comings or rather perhaps his going toofar, at the time when he worked the road so. All that was covered bythe King's pardon, and universal respect of the neighbourhood. But ourscruple was this--and the more we talked the more it grew upon us--thatwe both had great misgivings as to his future steadiness.
For it would be a thousand pities, we said, for a fine, well-grown, andpretty maiden (such as our Annie was), useful too, in so many ways, andlively, and warm-hearted, and mistress of 500 pounds, to throw herselfaway on a man with a kind of a turn for drinking. If that last were evenhinted, Annie would be most indignant, and ask, with cheeks as red asroses, who had ever seen Master Faggus any the worse for liquor indeed?Her own opinion was, in truth, that he took a great deal too little,after all his hard work, and hard riding, and coming over the hills tobe insulted! And if ever it lay in her power, and with no one to grudgehim his trumpery glass, she would see that poor Tom had the nourishmentwhich his cough and his lungs required.
His lungs being quite as sound as mine, this matter was out of allargument; so mother and I looked at one another, as much as to say, 'lether go upstairs, she will cry and come down more reasonable.' And whileshe was gone, we used to say the same thing over and over again; butwithout perceiving a cure for it. And we almost always finished up withthe following reflection, which sometimes came from mother's lips, andsometimes from my own: 'Well, well, there is no telling. None can sayhow a man may alter; when he takes to matrimony. But if we could onlymake 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 TomFaggus came, and spoke as if he were on the King's road, with a pistolat 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; andwe will have one another, either with your leave, or without it. Howmany more times am I to dance over these vile hills, and leave mybusiness, and get nothing more than a sigh or a kiss, and "Tom, I mustwait 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 he
r would have sent Tom out ofthe window; but she checked me with her hand, and said, 'You havesome ground of complaint, sir; I will not deny it. Now I will be asstraight-forward with you, as even a Ridd is supposed to be. My son andmyself have all along disliked your marriage with Annie. Not for whatyou 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 highwaylife again; for that you are too clever, no doubt, now that you haveproperty. But we fear that you will take to drinking, and to squanderingmoney. There are many examples of this around us; and we know what thefate of the wife is. It has been hard to tell you this, under our ownroof, 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; andthen she gave way and said, 'You know, Tom, you are welcome to everydrop and more of it.'
Now Tom must have had a far sweeter temper than ever I could claim; forI should have thrust my glass away, and never have taken another dropin the house where such a check had met me. But instead of that, MasterFaggus replied, with a pleasant smile,--
'I know that I am welcome, good mother; and to prove it, I will havesome more.'
And thereupon be mixed himself another glass of hollands with lemon andhot 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 isnow before you. Shall we say to-morrow week, mother? It will suit yourwashing day.'
'How very thoughtful you are, Tom! Now John would never have thought ofthat, in spite of all his steadiness.'
'Certainly not,' I answered proudly; 'when my time comes for Lorna, Ishall not study Betty Muxworthy.'
In this way the Squire got over us; and Farmer Nicholas Snowe wassent for, to counsel with mother about the matter and to set his twodaughters sewing.
When the time for the wedding came, there was such a stir and commotionas had never been known in the parish of Oare since my father'smarriage. For Annie's beauty and kindliness had made her the pride ofthe neighbourhood; and the presents sent her, from all around, wereenough to stock a shop with. Master Stickles, who now could walk, andwho 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 helpout their poor rations), clubbed together, and must have given at leasta week's pay apiece, to have turned out what they did for her. This wasno less than a silver pot, well-designed, but suited surely ratherto the bridegroom's taste than bride's. In a word, everybody gave herthings.
And now my Lorna came to me, with a spring of tears in appealingeyes--for she was still somewhat childish, or rather, I should say, morechildish now than when she lived in misery--and she placed her littlehand in mine, and she was half afraid to speak, and dropped her eyes forme 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 meany 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 lessthan ten pounds, John.'
Here she looked up at me, with horror at the grandeur of the sum, andnot 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 outin comfort, when she should be frightened; 'what can you want with tenpounds, child?'
'That is my concern, said Lorna, plucking up her spirit at this: 'whena lady asks for a loan, no gentleman pries into the cause of her askingit.'
'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 wasrunning away.
'Oh, dear, yes,' I replied; 'it is of very great consequence; and Iunderstand the whole of it. You want to give that stupid Annie, whohas lost you a hundred thousand pounds, and who is going to be marriedbefore us, dear--God only can tell why, being my younger sister--youwant 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? Howhumble you are with us humble folk. You are Lady Lorna something, so faras I can make out yet: and you ought not even to speak to us. You willgo away and disdain us.'
'If you please, talk not like that, John. I will have nothing to do withit, if it comes between you and me, John.'
'You cannot help yourself,' said I. And then she vowed that she couldand would. And rank and birth were banished from between our lips in notime.
'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 Ishall miss her, to be sure! By the bye, you seem to think, John, that Ishall be rich some day.'
'Of course you will. As rich as the French King who keeps ours. Wouldthe 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 Lornaabout the cost, until time should come for her paying me. And this wasbetter 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 mightcarry so far as the corner where the sawpit is. And to make thingsworse, one girl or other would keep on running up to me, or even afterme (when started) with something or other she had just thought of, whichshe 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 oftrifles, the most important matter seemed to ensure Uncle Reuben'scountenance and presence at the marriage. And if I succeeded in this,I might well forget all the maidens' trumpery. This she would have beenwiser to tell me when they were out of hearing; for I left her to fighther own battle with them; and laughing at her predicament, promised todo 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 theafternoon, and persuaded me to wait for him. And by the time that I hadfinished all I could recollect of my orders, even with paper to helpme, the old gentleman rode into the yard, and was more surprised thanpleased to see me. But if he was surprised, I was more than that--I wasutterly astonished at the change in his appearance since the last time Ihad seen him. From a hale, and rather heavy man, gray-haired, but plump,and ruddy, he was altered to a shrunken, wizened, trembling, and almostdecrepit figure. Instead of curly and comely locks, grizzled indeed, butplentiful, he had only a few lank white hairs scattered and flattenedupon his forehead. But the greatest change of all was in the expressionof his eyes, which had been so keen, and restless, and bright, anda little sarcastic. Bright indeed they still were, but with a slowunhealthy lustre; their keenness was turned to perpetual outlook, theirrestlessness to a haggard want. As for the humour which once gleamedthere (which people who fear it call sarcasm) it had been succeeded bystares of terror, and then mistrust, and shrinking. There was none ofthe interest in mankind, which is needful even for satire.
'Now what can this be?' thought I to myself, 'has the old man lost al
lhis property, or taken too much to strong waters?'
'Come inside, John Ridd,' he said; 'I will have a talk with you. It iscold out here; and it is too light. Come inside, John Ridd, boy.'
I followed him into a little dark room, quite different from RuthHuckaback'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. Herethere was a ledger desk, and a couple of chairs, and a long-leggedstool.
'Take the stool,' said Uncle Reuben, showing me in very quietly, 'it isfitter 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 sendingthem, with at least two hours of daylight left.
However, that was no business of mine, and I waited, and ponderedwhether fair Ruth ever came into this dirty room, and if so, how shekept her hands from it. For Annie would have had it upside down in abouttwo minutes, and scrubbed, and brushed, and dusted, until it lookedquite another place; and yet all this done without scolding andcrossness; which are the curse of clean women, and ten times worse thanthe dustiest dust.
Uncle Ben came reeling in, not from any power of liquor, but because hewas 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 isan unkind dreary place; but many a hundred of good gold Carolus has beenturned 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 aspossible, for the sake of--' Here I stopped.
'For the sake of what, John? I knew it is not for my own sake. For thesake of what, my boy?'
'For the sake of Ruth,' I answered; 'if you must have all the truth. Whois to mind her when you are gone?'
'But if you knew that I had gold, or a manner of getting gold, far morethan ever the sailors got out of the Spanish galleons, far more thanever was heard of; and the secret was to be yours, John; yours after meand no other soul's--then you would wish me dead, John.' Here he eyed meas if a speck of dust in my eyes should not escape him.
'You are wrong, Uncle Ben; altogether wrong. For all the gold ever heardor dreamed of, not a wish would cross my heart to rob you of one day oflife.'
At last he moved his eyes from mine; but without any word, or sign, toshow whether he believed, or disbelieved. Then he went to a chair, andsat with his chin upon the ledger-desk; as if the effort of probing mehad been too much for his weary brain. 'Dreamed of! All the gold everdreamed of! As if it were but a dream!' he muttered; and then he closedhis 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 whereto find it.'
'How do you know how far I have been?' he asked, with a vicious lookat 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. Sheloves you; and you love her not.'
At this I was so wholly amazed--not at the thing itself, I mean, but athis knowledge of it--that I could not say a single word; but looked, nodoubt, very foolish.
'You may well be ashamed, young man,' he cried, with some triumph overme, '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; butfiner men than you, John Ridd, with all your boasted strength andwrestling, have wedded smaller maidens. And as for quality, andvalue--bots! one inch of Ruth is worth all your seven feet puttogether.'
Now I am not seven feet high; nor ever was six feet eight inches, inmy very prime of life; and nothing vexes me so much as to make me out agiant, and above human sympathy, and human scale of weakness. It costme hard to hold my tongue; which luckily is not in proportion to mystature. And only for Ruth's sake I held it. But Uncle Ben (being oldand worn) was vexed by not having any answer, almost as much as a womanis.
'You want me to go on,' he continued, with a look of spite at me, 'aboutmy poor Ruth's love for you, to feed your cursed vanity. Because aset of asses call you the finest man in England; there is no maid (Isuppose) who is not in love with you. I believe you are as deep as youare 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 (withgoodwill) from a white-haired man, and one who was my relative; unlessit touched my love for Lorna, or my conscious modesty. Now both ofthese 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, alsonurse that babe to sleep, when he is too noisy. And there was Ruth, as Itook my horse (with a trunk of frippery on him), poor little Ruth wasat the bridle, and rusting all the knops of our town-going harness withtears.
'Good-bye dear,' I said, as she bent her head away from me; 'shall I putyou 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 wasthe only cutting thing the little soul ever said to me--'but oh, CousinRidd, 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 thepremises?'
'In the first place, Cousin Ridd, grandfather will be angry withhimself, 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 scoldmyself for scolding him. And then he will come round again, and thinkthat I was hard on him; and end perhaps by hating you--for he is like awoman now, John.'
That last little touch of self-knowledge in Ruth, which she deliveredwith a gleam of some secret pleasantry, made me stop and look closelyat her: but she pretended not to know it. 'There is something in thischild,' I thought, 'very different from other girls. What it is I cannottell; for one very seldom gets at it.'
At any rate the upshot was that the good horse went back to stable, andhad another feed of corn, while my wrath sank within me. There are twothings, according to my experience (which may not hold with another man)fitted beyond any others to take hot tempers out of us. The first isto see our favourite creatures feeding, and licking up their food, andhappily snuffling over it, yet sparing time to be grateful, and showingtaste and perception the other is to go gardening boldly, in the springof the year, without any misgiving about it, and hoping the utmost ofeverything. 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 andif this should only be over the sea, the result is irresistible.
Master Huckaback showed no especial signs of joy at my return; butreceived me with a little grunt, which appeared to me to mean, 'Ah, Ithought he would hardly be fool enough to go.' I told him how sorry Iwas for having in some way offended him; and he answered that I did wellto grieve for one at least of my offences. To this I made no reply, asbehoves a man dealing with cross and fractious people; and presently hebecame better-tempered, and sent little Ruth for a bottle of wine. Shegave 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 thecellar.
As I had but little time to spare (although the days were long andlight) we were forced to take our wine with promptitude and rapidity;and whether thi
s loosened my uncle's tongue, or whether he meantbeforehand to speak, is now almost uncertain. But true it is that hebrought his chair very near to mine, after three or four glasses, andsent Ruth away upon some errand which seemed of small importance. Atthis 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 andobedient wife to you. Not that your wife will ever obey you though; youare much too easy-tempered. Even a bitter and stormy woman might livein peace with you, Jack. But never you give her the chance to try. Marrysome sweet little thing, if you can. If not, don't marry any. Ah, wehave 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 suitme.'
'That you may take my word she has. The colour of this wine will proveit. 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 proneto be sent to sleep than to sorrow by one another. Not but what a sighsometimes may make us think of sighing.
'Well, sir,' cried I, in my sprightliest manner, which rouses up mostpeople, 'here's to your health and dear little Ruth's: and may you liveto knock off the cobwebs from every bottle in under the arch. UncleReuben, your life and health, sir?'
With that I took my glass thoughtfully, for it was wondrous good; andUncle Ben was pleased to see me dwelling pleasantly on the subject withparenthesis, and self-commune, and oral judgment unpronounced, thoughsmacking of fine decision. 'Curia vult advisari,' as the lawyers say;which means, 'Let us have another glass, and then we can think aboutit.'
'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 sneakingfondness for my grandchild Ruth. Don't interrupt me now; you have; andto deny it will only provoke me.'
'I do like Ruth, sir,' I said boldly, for fear of misunderstanding; 'butI do not love her.'
'Very well; that makes no difference. Liking may very soon be loving (assome 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 anyengagement with little Ruth; neither will I blame you (though I may bedisappointed) if no such engagement should ever be. But whether you willhave my grandchild, or whether you will not--and such a chance israrely offered to a fellow of your standing'--Uncle Ben despised allfarmers--'in any case I have at least resolved to let you know mysecret; and for two good reasons. The first is that it wears me outto dwell upon it, all alone, and the second is that I can trust you tofulfil a promise. Moreover, you are my next of kin, except amongthe womankind; and you are just the man I want, to help me in myenterprise.'
'And I will help you, sir,' I answered, fearing some conspiracy, 'inanything that is true, and loyal, and according to the laws of therealm.'
'Ha, ha!' cried the old man, laughing until his eyes ran over, andspreading out his skinny hands upon his shining breeches, 'thou hastgone the same fools' track as the rest; even as spy Stickles went, andall 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 tous. Disaffection at Taunton, signs of insurrection at Dulverton,revolutionary tanner at Dunster! We set it all abroad, right well. Andnot even you to suspect our work; though we thought at one time that youwatched us. Now who, do you suppose, is at the bottom of all this Exmoorinsurgency, 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 oldNick himself.'
'Nay, old Uncle Reuben!' Saying this, Master Huckaback cast back hiscoat, 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 likeme? But come, and see our rebellion, John. I will trust you now witheverything. I will take no oath from you; only your word to keepsilence; 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, againsthis usual practices. However, I was now so curious, that I thought ofnothing else; and scarcely could believe at all that Uncle Ben was quiteright in his head.
'Take another glass of wine, my son,' he cried with a cheerfulcountenance, which made him look more than ten years younger; 'you shallcome 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 withdoubt his forehead, 'come alone, of course; and meet me at the Wizard'sSlough, at ten to-morrow morning.'
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