CHAPTER LXXII
THE COUNSELLOR AND THE CARVER
From that great confusion--for nothing can be broken up, whether lawfulor unlawful, without a vast amount of dust, and many people grumbling,and mourning for the good old times, when all the world was happiness,and every man a gentleman, and the sun himself far brighter than sincethe brassy idol upon which he shone was broken--from all this loss ofancient landmarks (as unrobbed men began to call our clearance of thosemurderers) we returned on the following day, almost as full of anxietyas we were of triumph. In the first place, what could we possibly dowith all these women and children, thrown on our hands as one might say,with none to protect and care for them? Again how should we answer tothe justices of the peace, or perhaps even to Lord Jeffreys, for having,without even a warrant, taken the law into our own hands, and abatedour nuisance so forcibly? And then, what was to be done with the spoil,which was of great value; though the diamond necklace came not to publiclight? For we saw a mighty host of claimants already leaping up forbooty. Every man who had ever been robbed, expected usury on his loss;the lords of the manors demanded the whole; and so did the King'sCommissioner of revenue at Porlock; and so did the men who had foughtour battle; while even the parsons, both Bowden and Powell, and anotherwho had no parish in it, threatened us with the just wrath of theChurch, unless each had tithes of the whole of it.
Now this was not as it ought to be; and it seemed as if by burning thenest of robbers, we had but hatched their eggs; until being made soleguardian of the captured treasure (by reason of my known honesty) Ihit upon a plan, which gave very little satisfaction yet carried thisadvantage, that the grumblers argued against one another and for themost part came to blows; which renewed their goodwill to me, as beingabused by the adversary.
And my plan was no more than this--not to pay a farthing to lord ofmanor, parson, or even King's Commissioner, but after making good someof the recent and proven losses--where the men could not afford tolose--to pay the residue (which might be worth some fifty thousandpounds) into the Exchequer at Westminster; and then let all theclaimants file what wills they pleased in Chancery.
Now this was a very noble device, for the mere name of Chancery, and thehigh repute of the fees therein, and low repute of the lawyers, and thecomfortable knowledge that the woolsack itself is the golden fleece,absorbing gold for ever, if the standard be but pure; consideration ofthese things staved off at once the lords of the manors, and all thelittle farmers, and even those whom most I feared; videlicet, theparsons. And the King's Commissioner was compelled to profess himselfcontented, although of all he was most aggrieved; for his pickings wouldhave been goodly.
Moreover, by this plan I made--although I never thought of that--amighty friend worth all the enemies, whom the loss of money moved. Thefirst man now in the kingdom (by virtue perhaps of energy, rather thanof excellence) was the great Lord Jeffreys, appointed the head of theEquity, as well as the law of the realm, for his kindness in hangingfive hundred people, without the mere brief of trial. Nine out of tenof these people were innocent, it was true; but that proved the merit ofthe Lord Chief Justice so much the greater for hanging them, as showingwhat might be expected of him, when he truly got hold of a guilty man.Now the King had seen the force of this argument; and not being withoutgratitude for a high-seasoned dish of cruelty, had promoted the only manin England, combining the gifts of both butcher and cook.
Nevertheless, I do beg you all to believe of me--and I think that, afterfollowing me so long, you must believe it--that I did not even know atthe time of Lord Jeffreys's high promotion. Not that my knowledge ofthis would have led me to act otherwise in the matter; for my object wasto pay into an office, and not to any official; neither if I had knownthe fact, could I have seen its bearing upon the receipt of my money.For the King's Exchequer is, meseemeth, of the Common Law; whileChancery is of Equity, and well named for its many chances. But the trueresult of the thing was this--Lord Jeffreys being now head of the law,and almost head of the kingdom, got possession of that money, and waskindly pleased with it.
And this met our second difficulty; for the law having won and laughedover the spoil, must have injured its own title by impugning ourlegality.
Next, with regard to the women and children, we were long in a state ofperplexity. We did our very best at the farm, and so did many others toprovide for them, until they should manage about their own subsistence.And after a while this trouble went, as nearly all troubles go withtime. Some of the women were taken back by their parents, or theirhusbands, or it may be their sweethearts; and those who failed of this,went forth, some upon their own account to the New World plantations,where the fairer sex is valuable; and some to English cities; and theplainer ones to field work. And most of the children went with theirmothers, or were bound apprentices; only Carver Doone's handsome childhad lost his mother and stayed with me.
This boy went about with me everywhere. He had taken as much of likingto me--first shown in his eyes by the firelight--as his father had ofhatred; and I, perceiving his noble courage, scorn of lies, and highspirit, became almost as fond of Ensie as he was of me. He told us thathis name was 'Ensie,' meant for 'Ensor,' I suppose, from his father'sgrandfather, the old Sir Ensor Doone. And this boy appeared to beCarver's heir, having been born in wedlock, contrary to the generalmanner and custom of the Doones.
However, although I loved the poor child, I could not help feeling veryuneasy about the escape of his father, the savage and brutal Carver.This man was left to roam the country, homeless, foodless, anddesperate, with his giant strength, and great skill in arms, and thewhole world to be revenged upon. For his escape the miners, as I shallshow, were answerable; but of the Counsellor's safe departure the burdenlay on myself alone. And inasmuch as there are people who considerthemselves ill-used, unless one tells them everything, straitened thoughI am for space, I will glance at this transaction.
After the desperate charge of young Doones had been met by us, andbroken, and just as Poor Kit Badcock died in the arms of the deadCharley, I happened to descry a patch of white on the grass of themeadow, like the head of a sheep after washing-day. Observing withsome curiosity how carefully this white thing moved along the bars ofdarkness betwixt the panels of firelight, I ran up to intercept it,before it reached the little postern which we used to call Gwenny'sdoor. Perceiving me, the white thing stopped, and was for making backagain; but I ran up at full speed; and lo, it was the flowing silveryhair of that sage the Counsellor, who was scuttling away upon all fours;but now rose and confronted me.
'John,' he said, 'Sir John, you will not play falsely with your ancientfriend, among these violent fellows, I look to you to protect me, John.'
'Honoured sir, you are right,' I replied; 'but surely that posture wasunworthy of yourself, and your many resources. It is my intention to letyou go free.'
'I knew it. I could have sworn to it. You are a noble fellow, John. Isaid so, from the very first; you are a noble fellow, and an ornament toany rank.'
'But upon two conditions,' I added, gently taking him by the arm; forinstead of displaying any desire to commune with my nobility, he wasedging away toward the postern; 'the first is that you tell me truly(for now it can matter to none of you) who it was that slew my father.'
'I will tell you truly and frankly, John; however painful to me toconfess it. It was my son, Carver.'
'I thought as much, or I felt as much all along,' I answered; 'but thefault was none of yours, sir; for you were not even present.'
'If I had been there, it would not have happened. I am always opposedto violence. Therefore, let me haste away; this scene is against mynature.'
'You shall go directly, Sir Counsellor, after meeting my othercondition which is, that you place in my hands Lady Lorna's diamondnecklace.'
'Ah, how often I have wished,' said the old man with a heavy sigh, 'thatit might yet be in my power to ease my mind in that respect, and to do athoroughly good deed by lawful restitution.'
'Th
en try to have it in your power, sir. Surely, with my encouragement,you might summon resolution.'
'Alas, John, the resolution has been ready long ago. But the thing isnot in my possession. Carver, my son, who slew your father, upon him youwill find the necklace. What are jewels to me, young man, at my time oflife? Baubles and trash,--I detest them, from the sins they have led meto answer for. When you come to my age, good Sir John, you will scornall jewels, and care only for a pure and bright conscience. Ah! ah! Letme go. I have made my peace with God.'
He looked so hoary, and so silvery, and serene in the moonlight, thatverily I must have believed him, if he had not drawn in his breast. ButI happened to have noticed that when an honest man gives vent to nobleand great sentiments, he spreads his breast, and throws it out, as ifhis heart were swelling; whereas I had seen this old gentleman draw inhis breast more than once, as if it happened to contain better goodsthan sentiment.
'Will you applaud me, kind sir,' I said, keeping him very tight, all thewhile, 'if I place it in your power to ratify your peace with God? Thepledge is upon your heart, no doubt, for there it lies at this moment.'
With these words, and some apology for having recourse to strongmeasures, I thrust my hand inside his waistcoat, and drew forth Lorna'snecklace, purely sparkling in the moonlight, like the dancing of newstars. The old man made a stab at me, with a knife which I had notespied; but the vicious onset failed; and then he knelt, and clasped hishands.
'Oh, for God's sake, John, my son, rob me not in that manner. Theybelong to me; and I love them so; I would give almost my life for them.There is one jewel I can look at for hours, and see all the lights ofheaven in it; which I never shall see elsewhere. All my wretched, wickedlife--oh, John, I am a sad hypocrite--but give me back my jewels. Orelse kill me here; I am a babe in your hands; but I must have back myjewels.'
As his beautiful white hair fell away from his noble forehead, like asilver wreath of glory, and his powerful face, for once, was moved withreal emotion, I was so amazed and overcome by the grand contradictionsof nature, that verily I was on the point of giving him back thenecklace. But honesty, which is said to be the first instinct of all theRidds (though I myself never found it so), happened here to occur to me,and so I said, without more haste than might be expected,--
'Sir Counsellor, I cannot give you what does not belong to me. But ifyou will show me that particular diamond which is heaven to you, I willtake upon myself the risk and the folly of cutting it out for you. Andwith that you must go contented; and I beseech you not to starve withthat jewel upon your lips.'
Seeing no hope of better terms, he showed me his pet love of a jewel;and I thought of what Lorna was to me, as I cut it out (with the hingeof my knife severing the snakes of gold) and placed it in his carefulhand. Another moment, and he was gone, and away through Gwenny'spostern; and God knows what became of him.
Now as to Carver, the thing was this--so far as I could ascertain fromthe valiant miners, no two of whom told the same story, any more thanone of them told it twice. The band of Doones which sallied forth forthe robbery of the pretended convoy was met by Simon Carfax, accordingto arrangement, at the ruined house called The Warren, in that part ofBagworthy Forest where the river Exe (as yet a very small stream) runsthrough it. The Warren, as all our people know, had belonged to a fineold gentleman, whom every one called 'The Squire,' who had retreatedfrom active life to pass the rest of his days in fishing, and shooting,and helping his neighbours. For he was a man of some substance; and nopoor man ever left The Warren without a bag of good victuals, and afew shillings put in his pocket. However, this poor Squire never madea greater mistake, than in hoping to end his life peacefully upon thebanks of a trout-stream, and in the green forest of Bagworthy. For ashe came home from the brook at dusk, with his fly-rod over his shoulder,the Doones fell upon him, and murdered him, and then sacked his house,and burned it.
Now this had made honest people timid about going past The Warren atnight; for, of course, it was said that the old Squire 'walked,' uponcertain nights of the moon, in and out of the trunks of trees, on thegreen path from the river. On his shoulder he bore a fishing-rod, andhis book of trout-flies, in one hand, and on his back a wicker-creel;and now and then he would burst out laughing to think of his coming sonear the Doones.
And now that one turns to consider it, this seems a strangely righteousthing, that the scene of one of the greatest crimes even by Doonescommitted should, after twenty years, become the scene of vengeancefalling (like hail from heaven) upon them. For although The Warren lieswell away to the westward of the mine; and the gold, under escort toBristowe, or London, would have gone in the other direction CaptainCarfax, finding this place best suited for working of his design, hadpersuaded the Doones, that for reasons of Government, the ore must gofirst to Barnstaple for inspection, or something of that sort. Andas every one knows that our Government sends all things westwardwhen eastward bound, this had won the more faith for Simon, as beingaccording to nature.
Now Simon, having met these flowers of the flock of villainy, where therising moonlight flowed through the weir-work of the wood, begged themto dismount; and led them with an air of mystery into the Squire'sruined hall, black with fire, and green with weeds.
'Captain, I have found a thing,' he said to Carver Doone, himself,'which may help to pass the hour, ere the lump of gold comes by. Thesmugglers are a noble race; but a miner's eyes are a match for them.There lies a puncheon of rare spirit, with the Dutchman's brand upon it,hidden behind the broken hearth. Set a man to watch outside; and let ussee what this be like.'
With one accord they agreed to this, and Carver pledged Master Carfax,and all the Doones grew merry. But Simon being bound, as he said, tosee to their strict sobriety, drew a bucket of water from the well intowhich they had thrown the dead owner, and begged them to mingle it withtheir drink; which some of them did, and some refused.
But the water from that well was poured, while they were carousing, intothe priming-pan of every gun of theirs; even as Simon had promised to dowith the guns of the men they were come to kill. Then just as the giantCarver arose, with a glass of pure hollands in his hand, and by thelight of the torch they had struck, proposed the good health of theSquire's ghost--in the broken doorway stood a press of men, with pointedmuskets, covering every drunken Doone. How it fared upon that I knownot, having none to tell me; for each man wrought, neither thought oftelling, nor whether he might be alive to tell. The Doones rushedto their guns at once, and pointed them, and pulled at them; but theSquire's well had drowned their fire; and then they knew that they werebetrayed, but resolved to fight like men for it. Upon fighting I cannever dwell; it breeds such savage delight in me; of which I wouldfain have less. Enough that all the Doones fought bravely; and like men(though bad ones) died in the hall of the man they had murdered. Andwith them died poor young De Whichehalse, who, in spite of his goodfather's prayers, had cast in his lot with the robbers. Carver Doonealone escaped. Partly through his fearful strength, and his yet morefearful face; but mainly perhaps through his perfect coolness, and hismode of taking things.
I am happy to say that no more than eight of the gallant miners werekilled in that combat, or died of their wounds afterwards; and addingto these the eight we had lost in our assault on the valley (and two ofthem excellent warehousemen), it cost no more than sixteen lives to berid of nearly forty Doones, each of whom would most likely have killedthree men in the course of a year or two. Therefore, as I said at thetime, a great work was done very reasonably; here were nigh upon fortyDoones destroyed (in the valley, and up at The Warrens) despite theirextraordinary strength and high skill in gunnery; whereas of us ignorantrustics there were only sixteen to be counted dead--though others mightbe lamed, or so,--and of those sixteen only two had left wives, andtheir wives did not happen to care for them.
Yet, for Lorna' s sake, I was vexed at the bold escape of Carver.Not that I sought for Carver's life, any more than I did for theCounsellor's; but that for us it was n
o light thing, to have a man ofsuch power, and resource, and desperation, left at large and furious,like a famished wolf round the sheepfold. Yet greatly as I blamed theyeomen, who were posted on their horses, just out of shot from theDoone-gate, for the very purpose of intercepting those who escaped theminers, I could not get them to admit that any blame attached to them.
But lo, he had dashed through the whole of them, with his horse atfull gallop; and was nearly out of shot before they began to think ofshooting him. Then it appears from what a boy said--for boys manage tobe everywhere--that Captain Carver rode through the Doone-gate, and soto the head of the valley. There, of course, he beheld all the houses,and his own among the number, flaming with a handsome blaze, andthrowing a fine light around such as he often had revelled in, when ofother people's property. But he swore the deadliest of all oaths, andseeing himself to be vanquished (so far as the luck of the moment went),spurred his great black horse away, and passed into the darkness.
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor Page 72