CHAPTER LXVII
LORNA STILL IS LORNA
Although a man may be as simple as the flowers of the field; knowingwhen, but scarcely why, he closes to the bitter wind; and feeling why,but scarcely when, he opens to the genial sun; yet without his questingmuch into the capsule of himself--to do which is a misery--he may have ageneral notion how he happens to be getting on.
I felt myself to be getting on better than at any time since the lastwheat-harvest, as I took the lane to Kensington upon the Monday evening.For although no time was given in my Lorna's letter, I was not inclinedto wait more than decency required. And though I went and watchedthe house, decency would not allow me to knock on the Sunday evening,especially when I found at the corner that his lordship was at home.
The lanes and fields between Charing Cross and the village ofKensington, are, or were at that time, more than reasonably infestedwith footpads and with highwaymen. However, my stature and holly clubkept these fellows from doing more than casting sheep's eyes at me.For it was still broad daylight, and the view of the distant villages,Chelsea, Battersea, Tyburn, and others, as well as a few large houses,among the hams and towards the river, made it seem less lonely.Therefore I sang a song in the broadest Exmoor dialect, which caused nolittle amazement in the minds of all who met me.
When I came to Earl Brandir's house, my natural modesty forbade me toappear at the door for guests; therefore I went to the entrance forservants and retainers. Here, to my great surprise, who should comeand let me in but little Gwenny Carfax, whose very existence had almostescaped my recollection. Her mistress, no doubt, had seen me coming, andsent her to save trouble. But when I offered to kiss Gwenny, in my joyand comfort to see a farm-house face again, she looked ashamed, andturned away, and would hardly speak to me.
I followed her to a little room, furnished very daintily; and there sheordered me to wait, in a most ungracious manner. 'Well,' thought I, 'ifthe mistress and the maid are alike in temper, better it had been forme to abide at Master Ramsack's.' But almost ere my thought was done, Iheard the light quick step which I knew as well as 'Watch,' my dog, knewmine; and my breast began to tremble, like the trembling of an arch erethe keystone is put in.
Almost ere I hoped--for fear and hope were so entangled that theyhindered one another--the velvet hangings of the doorway parted, witha little doubt, and then a good face put on it. Lorna, in her perfectbeauty, stood before the crimson folds, and her dress was all purewhite, and her cheeks were rosy pink, and her lips were scarlet.
Like a maiden, with skill and sense checking violent impulse, she stayedthere for one moment only, just to be admired; and then like a woman,she came to me, seeing how alarmed I was. The hand she offered me Itook, and raised it to my lips with fear, as a thing too good for me.'Is that all?' she whispered; and then her eyes gleamed up at me; and inanother instant, she was weeping on my breast.
'Darling Lorna, Lady Lorna,' I cried, in astonishment, yet unable but tokeep her closer to me, and closer; 'surely, though I love you so, thisis not as it should be.'
'Yes, it is, John. Yes, it is. Nothing else should ever be. Oh, why haveyou behaved so?'
'I am behaving.' I replied, 'to the very best of my ability. There is noother man in the world could hold you so, without kissing you.'
'Then why don't you do it, John?' asked Lorna, looking up at me, with aflash of her old fun.
Now this matter, proverbially, is not for discussion, and repetition.Enough that we said nothing more than, 'Oh, John, how glad I am!' and'Lorna, Lorna Lorna!' for about five minutes. Then my darling drewback proudly, with blushing cheeks, and tear-bright eyes, she began tocross-examine me.
'Master John Ridd, you shall tell the truth, the whole truth, andnothing but the truth. I have been in Chancery, sir; and can detect astory. Now why have you never, for more than a twelvemonth, taken thesmallest notice of your old friend, Mistress Lorna Doone?' Although shespoke in this lightsome manner, as if it made no difference, I saw thather quick heart was moving, and the flash of her eyes controlled.
'Simply for this cause, I answered, 'that my old friend and true love,took not the smallest heed of me. Nor knew I where to find her.'
'What!' cried Lorna; and nothing more; being overcome with wondering;and much inclined to fall away, but for my assistance. I told her, overand over again, that not a single syllable of any message from her,or tidings of her welfare, had reached me, or any one of us, since theletter she left behind; except by soldier's gossip.
'Oh, you poor dear John!' said Lorna, sighing at thought of my misery:'how wonderfully good of you, thinking of me as you must have done, notto marry that little plain thing (or perhaps I should say that lovelycreature, for I have never seen her), Mistress Ruth--I forget her name;but something like a towel.'
'Ruth Huckaback is a worthy maid,' I answered with some dignity; 'andshe alone of all our world, except indeed poor Annie, has kept herconfidence in you, and told me not to dread your rank, but trust yourheart, Lady Lorna.'
'Then Ruth is my best friend,' she answered, 'and is worthy of you, dearJohn. And now remember one thing, dear; if God should part us, as may beby nothing short of death, try to marry that little Ruth, when you ceaseto remember me. And now for the head-traitor. I have often suspected it:but she looks me in the face, and wishes--fearful things, which I cannotrepeat.'
With these words, she moved an implement such as I had not seen before,and which made a ringing noise at a serious distance. And before I hadceased wondering--for if such things go on, we might ring the churchbells, while sitting in our back-kitchen--little Gwenny Carfax came,with a grave and sullen face.
'Gwenny,' began my Lorna, in a tone of high rank and dignity, 'go andfetch the letters which I gave you at various times for despatch toMistress Ridd.'
'How can I fetch them, when they are gone? It be no use for him to tellno lies--'
'Now, Gwenny, can you look at me?' I asked, very sternly; for the matterwas no joke to me, after a year's unhappiness.
'I don't want to look at 'ee. What should I look at a young man for,although he did offer to kiss me?'
I saw the spite and impudence of this last remark, and so did Lorna,although she could not quite refrain from smiling.
'Now, Gwenny, not to speak of that,' said Lorna, very demurely, 'if youthought it honest to keep the letters, was it honest to keep the money?'
At this the Cornish maiden broke into a rage of honesty: 'A putt themoney by for 'ee. 'Ee shall have every farden of it.' And so she flungout of the room.
'And, Gwenny,' said Lorna very softly, following under thedoor-hangings; 'if it is not honest to keep the money, it is not honestto keep the letters, which would have been worth more than any gold tothose who were so kind to you. Your father shall know the whole, Gwenny,unless you tell the truth.'
'Now, a will tell all the truth,' this strange maiden answered, talkingto herself at least as much as to her mistress, while she went out ofsight and hearing. And then I was so glad at having my own Lorna onceagain, cleared of all contempt for us, and true to me through all of it,that I would have forgiven Gwenny for treason, or even forgery.
'I trusted her so much,' said Lorna, in her old ill-fortuned way; 'andlook how she has deceived me! That is why I love you, John (settingother things aside), because you never told me falsehood; and you nevercould, you know.'
'Well, I am not so sure of that. I think I could tell any lie, to haveyou, darling, all my own.'
'Yes. And perhaps it might be right. To other people besides us two. Butyou could not do it to me, John. You never could do it to me, you know.'
Before I quite perceived my way to the bottom of thedistinction--although beyond doubt a valid one--Gwenny came back with aleathern bag, and tossed it upon the table. Not a word did she vouchsafeto us; but stood there, looking injured.
'Go, and get your letters, John,' said Lorna very gravely; 'or at leastyour mother's letters, made of messages to you. As for Gwenny, she shallgo before Lord Justice Jeffreys.' I
knew that Lorna meant it not; butthought that the girl deserved a frightening; as indeed she did. But weboth mistook the courage of this child of Cornwall. She stepped upon alittle round thing, in the nature of a stool, such as I never had seenbefore, and thus delivered her sentiments.
'And you may take me, if you please, before the great Lord Jeffreys. Ihave done no more than duty, though I did it crookedly, and told a heapof lies, for your sake. And pretty gratitude I gets.'
'Much gratitude you have shown,' replied Lorna, 'to Master Ridd, for allhis kindness and his goodness to you. Who was it that went down, at theperil of his life, and brought your father to you, when you had lost himfor months and months? Who was it? Answer me, Gwenny?'
'Girt Jan Ridd,' said the handmaid, very sulkily.
'What made you treat me so, little Gwenny?' I asked, for Lorna would notask lest the reply should vex me.
'Because 'ee be'est below her so. Her shanna' have a poor farmeringchap, not even if her were a Carnishman. All her land, and all herbirth--and who be you, I'd like to know?'
'Gwenny, you may go,' said Lorna, reddening with quiet anger; 'andremember that you come not near me for the next three days. It is theonly way to punish her,' she continued to me, when the maid was gone, ina storm of sobbing and weeping. 'Now, for the next three days, she willscarcely touch a morsel of food, and scarcely do a thing but cry. Makeup your mind to one thing, John; if you mean to take me, for better forworse, you will have to take Gwenny with me.
'I would take you with fifty Gwennies,' said I, 'although every oneof them hated me, which I do not believe this little maid does, in thebottom of her heart.'
'No one can possibly hate you, John,' she answered very softly; and Iwas better pleased with this, than if she had called me the most nobleand glorious man in the kingdom.
After this, we spoke of ourselves and the way people would regard us,supposing that when Lorna came to be her own free mistress (as she mustdo in the course of time) she were to throw her rank aside, and refuseher title, and caring not a fig for folk who cared less than a fig-stalkfor her, should shape her mind to its native bent, and to my perfecthappiness. It was not my place to say much, lest I should appear to usean improper and selfish influence. And of course to all men of commonsense, and to everybody of middle age (who must know best what is goodfor youth), the thoughts which my Lorna entertained would be enough toprove her madness.
Not that we could not keep her well, comfortably, and with nice clothes,and plenty of flowers, and fruit, and landscape, and the knowledge ofour neighbours' affairs, and their kind interest in our own. Still thiswould not be as if she were the owner of a county, and a haughty title;and able to lead the first men of the age, by her mind, and face, andmoney.
Therefore was I quite resolved not to have a word to say, while thisyoung queen of wealth and beauty, and of noblemen's desire, made hermind up how to act for her purest happiness. But to do her justice, thiswas not the first thing she was thinking of: the test of her judgmentwas only this, 'How will my love be happiest?'
'Now, John,' she cried; for she was so quick that she always had mythoughts beforehand; 'why will you be backward, as if you cared notfor me? Do you dream that I am doubting? My mind has been made up, goodJohn, that you must be my husband, for--well, I will not say how long,lest you should laugh at my folly. But I believe it was ever since youcame, with your stockings off, and the loaches. Right early for me tomake up my mind; but you know that you made up yours, John; and, ofcourse, I knew it; and that had a great effect on me. Now, after allthis age of loving, shall a trifle sever us?'
I told her that it was no trifle, but a most important thing, to abandonwealth, and honour, and the brilliance of high life, and be despisedby every one for such abundant folly. Moreover, that I should appear aknave for taking advantage of her youth, and boundless generosity, andruining (as men would say) a noble maid by my selfishness. And I toldher outright, having worked myself up by my own conversation, that shewas bound to consult her guardian, and that without his knowledge, Iwould come no more to see her. Her flash of pride at these last wordsmade her look like an empress; and I was about to explain myself better,but she put forth her hand and stopped me.
'I think that condition should rather have proceeded from me. You aremistaken, Master Ridd, in supposing that I would think of receivingyou in secret. It was a different thing in Glen Doone, where all exceptyourself were thieves, and when I was but a simple child, and oppressedwith constant fear. You are quite right in threatening to visit me thusno more; but I think you might have waited for an invitation, sir.'
'And you are quite right, Lady Lorna, in pointing out my presumption. Itis a fault that must ever be found in any speech of mine to you.'
This I said so humbly, and not with any bitterness--for I knew that Ihad gone too far--and made her so polite a bow, that she forgave me in amoment, and we begged each other's pardon.
'Now, will you allow me just to explain my own view of this matter,John?' said she, once more my darling. 'It may be a very foolish view,but I shall never change it. Please not to interrupt me, dear, until youhave heard me to the end. In the first place, it is quite certain thatneither you nor I can be happy without the other. Then what standsbetween us? Worldly position, and nothing else. I have no more educationthan you have, John Ridd; nay, and not so much. My birth and ancestryare not one whit more pure than yours, although they may be betterknown. Your descent from ancient freeholders, for five-and-twentygenerations of good, honest men, although you bear no coat of arms, isbetter than the lineage of nine proud English noblemen out of every tenI meet with. In manners, though your mighty strength, and hatred of anymeanness, sometimes break out in violence--of which I must try to cureyou, dear--in manners, if kindness, and gentleness, and modesty arethe true things wanted, you are immeasurably above any of ourCourt-gallants; who indeed have very little. As for difference ofreligion, we allow for one another, neither having been brought up in abitterly pious manner.'
Here, though the tears were in my eyes, at the loving things love saidof me, I could not help a little laugh at the notion of any bitter pietybeing found among the Doones, or even in mother, for that matter. Lornasmiled, in her slyest manner, and went on again:--
'Now, you see, I have proved my point; there is nothing between us butworldly position--if you can defend me against the Doones, for which, Itrow, I may trust you. And worldly position means wealth, and title,and the right to be in great houses, and the pleasure of being envied.I have not been here for a year, John, without learning something. Oh,I hate it; how I hate it! Of all the people I know, there are but two,besides my uncle, who do not either covet, or detest me. And who arethose two, think you?'
'Gwenny, for one,' I answered.
'Yes, Gwenny, for one. And the queen, for the other. The one is too farbelow me (I mean, in her own opinion), and the other too high above.As for the women who dislike me, without having even heard my voice, Isimply have nothing to do with them. As for the men who covet me, formy land and money, I merely compare them with you, John Ridd; and allthought of them is over. Oh, John, you must never forsake me, howevercross I am to you. I thought you would have gone, just now; and though Iwould not move to stop you, my heart would have broken.'
'You don't catch me go in a hurry,' I answered very sensibly, 'when theloveliest maiden in all the world, and the best, and the dearest, lovesme. All my fear of you is gone, darling Lorna, all my fear--'
'Is it possible you could fear me, John, after all we have been throughtogether? Now you promised not to interrupt me; is this fair behaviour?Well, let me see where I left off--oh, that my heart would have broken.Upon that point, I will say no more, lest you should grow conceited,John; if anything could make you so. But I do assure you that halfLondon--however, upon that point also I will check my power of speech,lest you think me conceited. And now to put aside all nonsense; though Ihave talked none for a year, John, having been so unhappy; and now it issuch a relief to me--'
'Th
en talk it for an hour,' said I; 'and let me sit and watch you. To meit is the very sweetest of all sweetest wisdom.'
'Nay, there is no time,' she answered, glancing at a jewelled timepiece,scarcely larger than an oyster, which she drew from her waist-band; andthen she pushed it away, in confusion, lest its wealth should startleme. 'My uncle will come home in less than half an hour, dear: and youare not the one to take a side-passage, and avoid him. I shall tell himthat you have been here; and that I mean you to come again.'
As Lorna said this, with a manner as confident as need be, I saw thatshe had learned in town the power of her beauty, and knew that she coulddo with most men aught she set her mind upon. And as she stood there,flushed with pride and faith in her own loveliness, and radiant with thelove itself, I felt that she must do exactly as she pleased with everyone. For now, in turn, and elegance, and richness, and variety, therewas nothing to compare with her face, unless it were her figure.Therefore I gave in, and said,--
'Darling, do just what you please. Only make no rogue of me.'
For that she gave me the simplest, kindest, and sweetest of all kisses;and I went down the great stairs grandly, thinking of nothing else butthat.
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 67