SLAIN BY THE DOONES. 

by R. D. Blackmore

Copyright: Dodd, Mead And Company, 1895

CHAPTER I--AFTER A STORMY LIFE. 

To hear people talking about North Devon, and the savage part calledExmoor, you might almost think that there never was any place inthe world so beautiful, or any living men so wonderful. It is not myintention to make little of them, for they would be the last to permitit; neither do I feel ill will against them for the pangs they allowedme to suffer; for I dare say they could not help themselves, being soslow-blooded, and hard to stir even by their own egrimonies. But when Ilook back upon the things that happened, and were for a full generationof mankind accepted as the will of God, I say, that the people whoendured them must have been born to be ruled by the devil. And inthinking thus I am not alone; for the very best judges of that daystopped short of that end of the world, because the law would not go anyfurther. Nevertheless, every word is true of what I am going to tell, and the stoutest writer of history cannot make less of it by denial. 

My father was Sylvester Ford of Quantock, in the county of Somerset, a gentleman of large estate as well as ancient lineage. Also of highcourage and resolution not to be beaten, as he proved in his many rideswith Prince Rupert, and woe that I should say it! in his most sad death. To this he was not looking forward much, though turned of threescoreyears and five; and his only child and loving daughter, Sylvia, whichis myself, had never dreamed of losing him. For he was exceeding fond ofme, little as I deserved it, except by loving him with all my heart andthinking nobody like him. And he without anything to go upon, exceptthat he was my father, held, as I have often heard, as good an opinionof me. 

Upon the triumph of that hard fanatic, the Brewer, who came to a timelyend by the justice of high Heaven--my father, being disgusted withEngland as well as banished from her, and despoiled of all his property, took service on the Continent, and wandered there for many years, untilthe replacement of the throne. Thereupon he expected, as many othersdid, to get his states restored to him, and perhaps to be held in highesteem at court, as he had a right to be. But this did not so cometo pass. Excellent words were granted him, and promise of tenfoldrestitution; on the faith of which he returned to Paris, and married ayoung Italian lady of good birth and high qualities, but with nothingmore to come to her. Then, to his great disappointment, he foundhimself left to live upon air--which, however distinguished, is notsufficient--and love, which, being fed so easily, expects all who lodgewith it to live upon itself. 

My father was full of strong loyalty; and the king (in his value of thatsentiment) showed faith that it would support him. His majesty tookboth my father's hands, having learned that hearty style in France, andwelcomed him with most gracious warmth, and promised him more than hecould desire. But time went on, and the bright words faded, like a roseset bravely in a noble vase, without any nurture under it. 

Another man had been long established in our hereditaments by theCommonwealth; and he would not quit them of his own accord, having asense of obligation to himself. Nevertheless, he went so far as to offermy father a share of the land, if some honest lawyers, whom he quoted, could find proper means for arranging it. But my father said: "If Icannot have my rights, I will have my wrongs. No mixture of the two forme. " And so, for the last few years of his life, being now very poorand a widower, he took refuge in an outlandish place, a house and smallproperty in the heart of Exmoor, which had come to the Fords onthe spindle side, and had been overlooked when their patrimony wasconfiscated by the Brewer. Of him I would speak with no contempt, because he was ever as good as his word. 

In the course of time, we had grown used to live according to ourfortunes. And I verily believe that we were quite content, andrepined but little at our lost importance. For my father was a verysimple-minded man, who had seen so much of uproarious life, and thefalsehood of friends, and small glitter of great folk, that he was gladto fall back upon his own good will. Moreover he had his books, and me;and as he always spoke out his thoughts, he seldom grudged to thank theLord for having left both of these to him. I felt a little jealous ofhis books now and then, as a very poor scholar might be; but reason isthe proper guide for women, and we are quick enough in discerning it, without having to borrow it from books. 

At any rate now we were living in a wood, and trees were the onlycreatures near us, to the best of our belief and wish. Few might say inwhat part of the wood we lived, unless they saw the smoke ascending fromour single chimney; so thick were the trees, and the land they stoodon so full of sudden rise and fall. But a little river called the Lynnmakes a crooked border to it, and being for its size as noisy a water asany in the world perhaps, can be heard all through the trees and leavesto the very top of the Warren Wood. In the summer all this was sweetand pleasant; but lonely and dreary and shuddersome, when the twigs boredrops instead of leaves, and the ground would not stand to the foot, andthe play of light and shadow fell, like the lopping of a tree, into onegreat lump. 

Now there was a young man about this time, and not so very distant fromour place--as distances are counted there--who managed to make himselfacquainted with us, although we lived so privately. To me it was amarvel, both why and how he did it; seeing what little we had to offer, and how much we desired to live alone. But Mrs. Pring told me to look inthe glass, if I wanted to know the reason; and while I was blushing withanger at that, being only just turned eighteen years, and thinking ofnobody but my father, she asked if I had never heard the famous rhymesmade by the wise woman at Tarrsteps:

 "Three fair maids live upon Exymoor, The rocks, and the woods, and the dairy-door. The son of a baron shall woo all three, But barren of them all shall the young man be. "

Of the countless things I could never understand, one of the verystrangest was how Deborah Pring, our only domestic, living in the lonelydepths of this great wood, and seeming to see nobody but ourselves, in spite of all that contrived to know as much of the doings of theneighbourhood as if she went to market twice a week. But my father caredlittle for any such stuff; coming from a better part of the world, andhaving been mixed with mighty issues and making of great kingdoms, henever said what he thought of these little combings of petty pie crust, because it was not worth his while. And yet he seemed to take a kindlyliking to the young De Wichehalse; not as a youth of birth only, butas one driven astray perhaps by harsh and austere influence. For hisfather, the baron, was a godly man, --which is much to-the credit ofanyone, growing rarer and rarer, as it does, --and there should be norasp against such men, if they would only bear in mind that in theirtime they had been young, and were not quite so perfect then. But lo!I am writing as if I knew a great deal more than I could know until theharrow passed over me. 

No one, however, need be surprised at the favour this young man obtainedwith all who came into his converse. Handsome, and beautiful as he was, so that bold maids longed to kiss him, it was the sadness in his eyes, and the gentle sense of doom therein, together with a laughing scorn ofit, that made him come home to our nature, in a way that it feels butcannot talk of. And he seemed to be of the past somehow, although soyoung and bright and brave; of the time when greater things were done, and men would die for women. That he should woo three maids in vain, tome was a stupid old woman's tale. 

"Sylvia, " my father said to me, when I was not even thinking of him, "nomore converse must we hold with that son of the Baron de Wichehalse. Ihave ordered Pring to keep the door; and Mistress Pring, who hath thestronger tongue, to come up if he attempted to dispute; the while I goaway to catch our supper. "

He was bearing a fishing rod made by himself, and a basket strapped overhis shoulders. 

"But why, father? Why should such a change be? How hath the younggentleman displeased thee?" I put my face into his beard as I spoke, that I might not appear too curious. 

"Is it so?" he answered, "then high time is it. No more shall he enterthis "--_house_ he would have said, but being so> truthful changed itinto--"hut I was pleased with the youth. He is gentle and kind; butweak--my dear child, remember that. Why are we in this hut, my dear? andthou, the heiress of the best land in the world, now picking up sticksin the wilderness? Because the man who should do us right is weak, and wavering, and careth but for pleasure. So is this young Marwood deWichehalse. He rideth with the Doones. I knew it not, but now that Iknow, it is enough. "

My father was of tall stature and fine presence, and his beard shonelike a cascade of silver. It was not the manner of the young as yet toargue with their elders, and though I might have been a little flutteredby the comely gallant's lofty talk and gaze of daring melancholy, I saidgood-bye to him in my heart, as I kissed my noble father. Shall I evercease to thank the Lord that I proved myself a good daughter then?

CHAPTER II. --BY A QUIET RIVER. 

Living as we did all by ourselves, and five or six miles away from theRobbers' Valley, we had felt little fear of the Doones hitherto, becausewe had nothing for them to steal except a few books, the sight of whichwould only make them swear and ride away. But now that I was full-grown, and beginning to be accounted comely, my father was sometimes uneasy inhis mind, as he told Deborah, and she told me; for the outlaws showedinterest in such matters, even to the extent of carrying off young womenwho had won reputation thus. Therefore he left Thomas Pring at home, with the doors well-barred, and two duck guns loaded, and ordered menot to quit the house until he should return with a creel of trout forsupper. Only our little boy Dick Hutchings was to go with him, to helpwhen his fly caught in the bushes. 

My father set off in the highest spirits, as anglers always seem to do, to balance the state in which they shall return; and I knew not, neitherdid anyone else, what a bold stroke he was resolved upon. When it wastoo late, we found out that, hearing so much of that strange race, hedesired to know more about them, scorning the idea that men of birthcould ever behave like savages, and forgetting that they had receivedno chance of being tamed, as rough spirits are by the lessons of thebattlefield. No gentleman would ever dream of attacking an unarmed man, he thought; least of all one whose hair was white. And so he resolved tofish the brook which ran away from their stronghold, believing that hemight see some of them, and hoping for a peaceful interview. 

We waited and waited for his pleasant face, and long, deliberate stepupon the steep, and cheerful shout for his Sylvia, to come and ease downhis basket, and say--"Well done, father!" But the shadows of the treesgrew darker, and the song of the gray-bird died out among them, and thesilent wings of the owl swept by, and all the mysterious sounds of nightin the depth of forest loneliness, and the glimmer of a star throughthe leaves here and there, to tell us that there still was light inheaven--but of an earthly father not a sign; only pain, and long sighs, and deep sinking of the heart. 

But why should I dwell upon this? All women, being of a gentle andloving kind, --unless they forego their nature, --know better than I atthis first trial knew, the misery often sent to us. I could not believeit, and went about in a dreary haze of wonder, getting into dark places, when all was dark, and expecting to be called out again and asked whathad made such a fool of me. And so the long night went at last, and nocomfort came in the morning. But I heard a great crying, sometime thenext day, and ran back from the wood to learn what it meant, for thereI had been searching up and down, not knowing whither I went or why. Andlo, it was little Dick Hutchings at our door, and Deborah Pring held himby the coat-flap, and was beating him with one of my father's sticks. 

"I tell 'ee, they Doo-uns has done for 'un, " the boy was roaring betwixthis sobs; "dree on 'em, dree on 'em, and he've a killed one. The squirebe layin' as dead as a sto-un. "

Mrs. Pring smacked him on the mouth, for she saw that I had heard it. What followed I know not, for down I fell, and the sense of life wentfrom me. 

There was little chance of finding Thomas Pring, or any other man tohelp us, for neighbours were none, and Thomas was gone everywhere hecould think of to look for them. Was I likely to wait for night again, and then talk for hours about it? I recovered my strength when the sunwent low; and who was Deborah Pring, to stop me? She would have come, but I would not have it; and the strength of my grief took command ofher. 

Little Dick Hutchings whistled now, I remember that he whistled, as hewent through the wood in front of me. Who had given him the breeches onhis legs and the hat upon his shallow pate? And the poor little cowardhad skiddered away, and slept in a furze rick, till famine drove himhome. But now he was set up again by gorging for an hour, and chatteredas if he had done a great thing. 

There must have been miles of rough walking through woods, and tangles, and craggy and black boggy hollows, until we arrived at a wide openspace where two streams ran into one another. 

"Thic be Oare watter, " said the boy, "and t'other over yonner beBadgefry. Squire be dead up there; plaise, Miss Sillie, 'ee can goovorrard and vaind 'un. "

He would go no further; but I crossed the brook, and followed theBadgery stream, without knowing, or caring to know, where I was. Thebanks, and the bushes, and the rushing water went by me until I cameupon--but though the Lord hath made us to endure such things, he hathnot compelled us to enlarge upon them. 

In the course of the night kind people came, under the guidance ofThomas Pring, and they made a pair of wattles such as farmers use forsheep, and carried home father and daughter, one sobbing and groaningwith a broken heart, and the other that should never so much as sighagain. Troubles have fallen upon me since, as the will of the Lord isalways; but none that I ever felt like that, and for months everythingwas the same to me. 

But inasmuch as it has been said by those who should know better, that my father in some way provoked his merciless end by those vilebarbarians, I will put into plainest form, without any other change, except from outlandish words, the tale received from Dick Hutchings, the boy, who had seen and heard almost everything while crouching in thewater and huddled up inside a bush. 

"Squire had catched a tidy few, and he seemed well pleased with himself, and then we came to a sort of a hollow place where one brook flowethinto the other. Here he was a-casting of his fly, most careful, for ifthere was ever a trout on the feed, it was like to be a big one, andlucky for me I was keeping round the corner when a kingfisher bird flewalong like a string-bolt, and there were three great men coming round afuzz-bush, and looking at squire, and he back to them. Down goes I, youmay say sure enough, with all of me in the water but my face, and thatstuck into a wutts-clump, and my teeth making holes in my naked knees, because of the way they were shaking. 

"'Ho, fellow!' one of them called out to squire, as if he was no betterthan father is, 'who give thee leave to fish in our river?'

"'Open moor, ' says squire, 'and belongeth to the king, if it belongethto anybody. Any of you gentlemen hold his majesty's warrant to forbid anold officer of his?'

"That seemed to put them in a dreadful rage, for to talk of a warrantwas unpleasant to them. 

"'Good fellow, thou mayest spin spider's webs, or jib up and down likea gnat, ' said one, 'but such tricks are not lawful upon land of ours. Therefore render up thy spoil. '

"Squire walked up from the pebbles at that, and he stood before thethree of them, as tall as any of them. And he said, 'You be young men, but I am old. Nevertheless, I will not be robbed by three, or by thirtyof you. If you be cowards enough, come on. '

"Two of them held off, and I heard them say, 'Let him alone, he is abrave old cock. ' For you never seed anyone look more braver, and hisheart was up with righteousness. But the other, who seemed to be theoldest of the three, shouted out something, and put his leg across, andmade at the squire with a long blue thing that shone in the sun, like alooking-glass. And the squire, instead of turning round to run away ashe should have, led at him with the thick end of the fishing rod, towhich he had bound an old knife of Mother Pring's for to stick it in thegrass, while he put his flies on. And I heard the old knife strike theman in his breast, and down he goes dead as a door-nail. And before Icould look again almost, another man ran a long blade into squire, andthere he was lying as straight as a lath, with the end of his whitebeard as red as a rose. At that I was so scared that I couldn't look nomore, and the water came bubbling into my mouth, and I thought I was athome along of mother. 

"By and by, I came back to myself with my face full of scratches in abush, and the sun was going low, and the place all as quiet as Cheritonchurch. But the noise of the water told me where I was; and I got up, and ran for the life of me, till I came to the goyal. And then I gotinto a fuzz-rick, and slept all night, for I durstn't go home to tellMother Pring. But I just took a look before I began to run, and theDoone that was killed was gone away, but the squire lay along withhis arms stretched out, as quiet as a sheep before they hang him up todrain. "

CHAPTER III. --WISE COUNSEL. 

Some pious people seem not to care how many of their dearest hearts theLord in heaven takes from them. How well I remember that in later life, I met a beautiful young widow, who had loved her husband with her onelove, and was left with twin babies by him. I feared to speak, for I hadknown him well, and thought her the tenderest of the tender, and my eyeswere full of tears for her. But she looked at me with some surprise, andsaid: "You loved my Bob, I know, " for he was a cousin of my own, and asgood a man as ever lived, "but, Sylvia, you must not commit the sin ofgrieving for him. "

It may be so, in a better world, if people are allowed to die there; butas long as we are here, how can we help being as the Lord has madeus? The sin, as it seems to me, would be to feel or fancy ourselvescase-hardened against the will of our Maker, which so often is--that weshould grieve. Without a thought how that might be, I did the naturalthing, and cried about the death of my dear father until I was like tofollow him. But a strange thing happened in a month or so of time, whichaccording to Deborah saved my life, by compelling other thoughts tocome. My father had been buried in a small churchyard, with nobodyliving near it, and the church itself was falling down, through scarcityof money on the moor. The Warren, as our wood was called, lay somewherein the parish of Brendon, a straggling country, with a little villagesomewhere, and a blacksmith's shop and an ale house, but no church thatanyone knew of, till you came to a place called Cheriton. And therewas a little church all by itself, not easy to find, though it had fourbells, which nobody dared to ring, for fear of his head and the burdenabove it. But a boy would go up the first Sunday of each month, andstrike the liveliest of them with a poker from the smithy. And then abrave parson, who feared nothing but his duty, would make his way in, with a small flock at his heels, and read the Psalms of the day, andpreach concerning the difficulty of doing better. And it was accountedto the credit of the Doones that they never came near him, for he had nomoney. 

The Fords had been excellent Catholics always; but Thomas and DeborahPring, who managed everything while I was overcome, said that thechurch, being now so old, must have belonged to us, and therefor mightbe considered holy. The parson also said that it would do, for he wasnot a man of hot persuasions. And so my dear father lay there, without astone, or a word to tell who he was, and the grass began to grow. 

Here I was sitting one afternoon in May, and the earth was beginningto look lively; when a shadow from the west fell over me, and a large, broad man stood behind it. If I had been at all like myself, a thingof that kind would have frightened me; but now the strings of my systemseemed to have nothing like a jerk in them, for I cared not whither Iwent, nor how I looked, nor whether I went anywhere. 

"Child! poor child!" It was a deep, soft voice of distant yet largebenevolence. "Almost a woman, and a comely one, for those who think ofsuch matters. Such a child I might have owned, if Heaven had been kindto me. "

Low as I was of heart and spirit, I could not help looking up at him;for Mother Pring's voice, though her meaning was so good, sounded likea cackle in comparison to this. But when I looked up, such encouragementcame from a great benign and steadfast gaze that I turned away my eyes, as I felt them overflow. But he said not a word, for his pity was toodeep, and I thanked him in my heart for that. 

"Pardon me if I am wrong, " I said, with my eyes on the white flowersI had brought and arranged as my father would have liked them; "butperhaps you are the clergyman of this old church. " For I had lainsenseless and moaning on the ground when my father was carried away tobe buried. 

"How often am I taken for a clerk in holy orders! And in better times Imight have been of that sacred vocation, though so unworthy. But I am amember of the older church, and to me all this is heresy. "

There was nothing of bigotry in our race, and we knew that we must putup with all changes for the worst; yet it pleased me not a little thatso good a man should be also a sound Catholic. 

"There are few of us left, and we are persecuted. Sad calumnies arespread about us, " this venerable man proceeded, while I gazed on thesilver locks that fell upon his well-worn velvet coat. "But of suchthings we take small heed, while we know that the Lord is with us. Haplyeven you, young maiden, have listened to slander about us. "

I told him with some concern, although not caring much for such thingsnow, that I never had any chance of listening to tales-about anybody, and was yet without the honour of even knowing who he was. 

"Few indeed care for that point now, " he answered, with a toss of hisglistening curls, and a lift of his broad white eyebrows. "Though therehas been a time when the noblest of this earth--but vanity, vanity, thewise man saith. Yet some good I do in my quiet little way. There is apeaceful company among these hills, respected by all who conceive themaright. My child, perhaps you have heard of them?"

I replied sadly that I had not done so, but hoped that he would forgiveme as one unacquainted with that neighbourhood. But I knew that theremight be godly monks still in hiding, for the service of God in thewilderness. 

"So far as the name goes, we are not monastics, " he said, with a sparklein his deep-set eyes; "we are but a family of ancient lineage, expelledfrom our home in these irreligious times. It is no longer in our powerto do all the good we would, and therefore we are much undervalued. Perhaps you have heard of the Doones, my child?"

To me it was a wonder that he spoke of them thus, for his look was ofbeautiful mildness, instead of any just condemnation. But his aspect wasas if he came from heaven; and I thought that he had a hard job beforehim, if he were sent to conduct the Doones thither. 

"I am not severe; I think well of mankind, " he went on, as I looked athim meekly; "perhaps because I am one of them. You are very young, mydear, and unable to form much opinion as yet. But let it be your rule oflife ever to keep an open mind. "

This advice impressed me much, though I could not see clearly what itmeant. But the sun was going beyond Exmoor now, and safe as I felt withso good an old man, a long, lonely walk was before me. So I took upmy basket and rose to depart, saying, "Good-bye, sir; I am much in yourdebt for your excellent advice and kindness. "

He looked at me most benevolently, and whatever may be said of himhereafter, I shall always believe that he was a good man, overcomeperhaps by circumstances, yet trying to make the best of them. He hasnow become a by-word as a hypocrite and a merciless self-seeker. But many young people, who met him as I did, without possibility ofprejudice, hold a larger opinion of him. And surely young eyes are thebrightest. 

"I will protect thee, my dear, " he said, looking capable in his greatwidth and wisdom of protecting all the host of heaven. "I have protecteda maiden even more beautiful than thou art. But now she hath unwiselyfled from us. Our young men are thoughtless, but they are not violent, at least until they are sadly provoked. Your father was a brave man, andmuch to be esteemed. My brother, the mildest man that ever lived, hathridden down hundreds of Roundheads with him. Therefore thou shalt cometo no harm. But he should not have fallen upon our young men as if theywere rabble of the Commonwealth. "

Upon these words I looked at him I know not how, so great was thevariance betwixt my ears and eyes. Then I tried to say something, butnothing would come, so entire was my amazement. 

"Such are the things we have ever to contend with, " he continued, as ifto himself, with a smile of compassion at my prejudice. "Nay, I am notangry; I have seen so much of this. Right and wrong stand fast, andcannot be changed by any facundity. But time is short, and will soon bestirring. Have a backway from thy bedroom, child. I am Councillor Doone;by birthright and in right of understanding, the captain of that piousfamily, since the return of the good Sir Ensor to the land where thereare no lies. So long as we are not molested in our peaceful valley, mywill is law; and I have ordered that none shall go near thee. But a mobof country louts are drilling in a farmyard up the moorlands, to plunderand destroy us, if they can. We shall make short work of them. But afterthat, our youths may be provoked beyond control, and sally forth tomake reprisal. They have their eyes on thee, I know, and thy father hathassaulted us. An ornament to our valley thou wouldst be; but I wouldreproach myself if the daughter of my brother's friend were discontentedwith our life. Therefore have I come to warn thee, for there aretroublous times in front. Have a back-way from thy bedroom, child, andslip out into the wood if a noise comes in the night. "

Before I could thank him, he strode away, with a step of no smalldignity, and as he raised his pointed hat, the western light showednothing fairer or more venerable than the long wave of his silver locks. 

CHAPTER IV. --A COTTAGE HOSPITAL. 

Master Pring was not much of a man to talk. But for power of thought hewas considered equal to any pair of other men, and superior of course toall womankind. Moreover, he had seen a good deal of fighting, not amongoutlaws, but fine soldiers well skilled in the proper style of it. So that it was impossible for him to think very highly of the Doones. Gentlemen they might be, he said, and therefore by nature well qualifiedto fight. But where could they have learned any discipline, anytactics, any knowledge of formation, or even any skill of sword orfirearms? "Tush, there was his own son, Bob, now serving under CaptainPurvis, as fine a young trooper as ever drew sword, and perhaps on hisway at this very moment, under orders from the Lord Lieutenant, to ridthe country of that pestilent race. Ah, ha! We soon shall see!"

And in truth we did see him, even sooner than his own dear mother hadexpected, and long before his father wanted him, though he loved him somuch in his absence. For I heard a deep voice in the kitchen one night(before I was prepared for such things, by making a backway out of mybedroom), and thinking it best to know the worst, went out to ask whatwas doing there. 

A young man was sitting upon the table, accounting too little of ourhouse, yet showing no great readiness to boast, only to let us knowwho he was. He had a fine head of curly hair, and spoke with a firmconviction that there was much inside it. "Father, you have possessedsmall opportunity of seeing how we do things now. Mother is not to beblamed for thinking that we are in front of what used to be. What do wecare how the country lies? We have heared all this stuff up at Oare. Ifthere are bogs, we shall timber them. If there are rocks, we shall blowthem up. If there are caves, we shall fire down them. The moment we getour guns into position----"

"Hush, Bob, hush! Here is your master's daughter. Not the interlopersyou put up with; but your real master, on whose property you were born. Is that the position for your guns?"

Being thus rebuked by his father, who was a very faithful-minded man, Robert Pring shuffled his long boots down, and made me a low salutation. But, having paid little attention to the things other people werefull of, I left the young man to convince his parents, and he soon wassuccessful with his mother. 

Two, or it may have been three days after this, a great noise arose inthe morning. I was dusting my father's books, which lay open just as hehad left them. There was "Barker's Delight" and "Isaac Walton, " and the"Secrets of Angling by J. D. " and some notes of his own about making offlies; also fish hooks made of Spanish steel, and long hairs pulled fromthe tail of a gray horse, with spindles and bits of quill for plaitingthem. So proud and so pleased had he been with these trifles, after theclamour and clash of life, that tears came into my eyes once more, as Ithought of his tranquil and amiable ways. 

"'Tis a wrong thing altogether to my mind, " cried Deborah Pring, runningin to me. "They Doones was established afore we come, and why not letthem bide upon their own land? They treated poor master amiss, beyonddenial; and never will I forgive them for it. All the same, he wascatching what belonged to them; meaning for the best no doubt, becausehe was so righteous. And having such courage he killed one, or perhapstwo; though I never could have thought so much of that old knife. Butever since that, they have been good, Miss Sillie, never even cominganigh us; and I don't believe half of the tales about them. "

All this was new to me; for if anybody-had cried shame and death uponthat wicked horde, it was Deborah Pring, who was talking to me thus! Ilooked at her with wonder, suspecting for the moment that the venerableCouncillor--who was clever enough to make a cow forget her calf--mighthave paid her a visit while I was away. But very soon the reason of thechange appeared. 

"Who hath taken command of the attack?" she asked, as if no one wouldbelieve the answer; "not Captain Purvis, as ought to have been, nor evenCaptain Dallas of Devon, but Spy Stickles by royal warrant, the man thathath been up to Oare so long! And my son Robert, who hath come down tohelp to train them, and understandeth cannon guns----"

"Captain Purvis? I seem to know that name very well. I have often heardit from my father. And your son under him! Why, Deborah, what are youhiding from me?"

Now good Mrs. Pring was beginning to forget, or rather had never borneproperly in mind, that I was the head of the household now, and entitledto know everything, and to be asked about it. But people who desire tohave this done should insist upon it at the outset, which I had not beenin proper state to do. So that she made quite a grievance of it, when Iwould not be treated as a helpless child. However, I soon put a stop tothat, and discovered to my surprise much more than could be imagined. 

And before I could say even half of what I thought, a great noise arosein the hollow of the hills, and came along the valleys, like the blowingof a wind that had picked up the roaring of mankind upon its way. Perhaps greater noise had never arisen upon the moor; and the cattle, and the quiet sheep, and even the wild deer came bounding fromunsheltered places into any offering of branches, or of other helingfrom the turbulence of men. And then a gray fog rolled down the valley, and Deborah said it was cannon-smoke, following the river course; but tome it seemed only the usual thickness of the air, when the clouds hanglow. Thomas Pring was gone, as behooved an ancient warrior, to see howhis successors did things, and the boy Dick Hutchings had begged leaveto sit in a tree and watch the smoke. Deborah and I were left alone, anda long and anxious day we had. 

At last the wood-pigeons had stopped their cooing, --which they kept upfor hours, when the weather matched the light, --and there was not a treethat could tell its own shadow, and we were contented with the gentlesounds that come through a forest when it falls asleep, and DeborahPring, who had taken a motherly tendency toward me now, as if to makeup for my father, was sitting in the porch with my hands in her lap, andtelling me how to behave henceforth, as if the whole world depended uponthat, when we heard a swishing sound, as of branches thrust aside, and then a low moan that went straight to my heart, as I thought of myfather when he took the blow of death. 

"My son, my Bob, my eldest boy!" cried Mistress Pring, jumping up andfalling into my arms, like a pillow full of wire, for she insisted uponher figure still. But before I could do anything to help her----

"Hit her on the back, ma'am; hit her hard upon the back. That is whatalways brings mother round, " was shouted, as I might say, into my ear bythe young man whom she was lamenting. 

"Shut thy trap, Braggadose. To whom art thou speaking? Pretty much thouhast learned of war to come and give lessons to thy father! MistressSylvia, it is for thee to speak. Nothing would satisfy this youngspringal but to bring his beaten captain here, for the sake of mother'smanagement. I told un that you would never take him in, for his fatherhave taken in you pretty well! Captain Purvis of the Somerset I know notwhat--for the regiments now be all upside down. _Raggiments_ is theproper name for them. Very like he be dead by this time, and better dieout of doors than in. Take un away, Bob. No hospital here!"

"Thomas Pring, who are you, " I said, for the sound of another low groancame through me, "to give orders to your master's daughter? If you bringnot the poor wounded gentleman in, you shall never come through thisdoor yourself. "

"Ha, old hunks, I told thee so!" The young man who spoke raised hishat to me, and I saw that it had a scarlet plume, such as Marwood deWichehalse gloried in. "In with thee, and stretch him that he may diestraight. I am off to Southmolton for Cutcliffe Lane, who can make afurze-fagot bloom again. My filly can give a land-yard in a mile to TomFaggus and his Winnie. But mind one thing, all of you; it was none of usthat shot the captain, but his own good men. Farewell, Mistress Sylvia!"With these words he made me a very low bow, and set off for his horse atthe corner of the wood--as reckless a gallant as ever broke hearts, andthose of his own kin foremost; yet himself so kind and loving. 

CHAPTER V. --MISTAKEN AIMS. 

Captain Purvis, now brought to the Warren in this very sad condition, had not been shot by his own men, as the dashing Marwood de Wichehalsesaid; neither was it quite true to say that he had been shot by anyone. What happened to him was simply this: While behaving with the utmostgallantry and encouraging the militia of Somerset, whose uniforms werefaced with yellow, he received in his chest a terrific blow from thebottom of a bottle. This had been discharged from a culveria on theopposite side of the valley by the brave but impetuous sons of Devon, who-wore the red facings, and had taken umbrage at a pure mistake onthe part of their excellent friends and neighbours, the loyal band ofSomerset. Either brigade had three culverins; and never having seen suchthings before, as was natural with good farmers' sons, they felt it acompliment to themselves to be intrusted with such danger, and resolvedto make the most of it. However, when they tried to make them go, withthe help of a good many horses, upon places that had no roads for war, and even no sort of road at all, the difficulty was beyond them. But avery clever blacksmith near Malmesford, who had better, as it proved, have stuck to the plough, persuaded them that he knew all about it, andwould bring their guns to bear, if they let him have his way. So theytook the long tubes from their carriages, and lashed rollers of barkedoak under them, and with very stout ropes, and great power of swearing, dragged them into the proper place to overwhelm the Doones. 

Here they mounted their guns upon cider barrels, with allowance of rollfor recoil, and charged them to the very best of their knowledge, andpointed them as nearly as they could guess at the dwellings of theoutlaws in the glen; three cannons on the north were of Somerset and thethree on the south were of Devonshire; but these latter had no balls ofmetal, only anything round they could pick up. Colonel Stickles-was incommand, by virtue of his royal warrant, and his plan was to make hischief assault in company with some chosen men, including his host, young farmer Ridd, at the head of the valley where the chief entrancewas, while the trainbands pounded away on either side. And perhaps thiswould have succeeded well, except for a little mistake in firing, forwhich the enemy alone could be blamed with justice. For while CaptainPurvis was-behind the line rallying a few men who-showed fear, and notexpecting any combat yet, because Devonshire was not ready, an elderlygentleman of great authority-appeared among the bombardiers. On hisbreast he wore a badge of office, and in his hat a noble plume of thesea eagle, and he handed his horse to a man in red clothes. 

"Just in time, " he shouted; "and the Lord be thanked for that! By orderof His Majesty, I take supreme command. Ha, and high time, too, for it!You idiots, where are you pointing your guns? What allowance have youmade for windage? Why, at that elevation, you'll shoot yourselves. Upwith your muzzles, you yellow jackanapes! Down on your bellies! Hand methe linstock! By the Lord, you don't even know how to touch them off!"

The soldiers were abashed at his rebukes, and glad to lie down on theirbreasts for fear of the powder on their yellow facings. And thus theywere shaken by three great roars, and wrapped in a cloud of streakysmoke. When this had cleared off, and they stood up, lo! the housesof the Doones were the same as before, but a great shriek arose on theopposite bank, and two good horses lay on the ground; and the red menwere stamping about, and some crossing their arms, and some running fortheir lives, and the bravest of them stooping over one another. Then asCaptain Purvis rushed up in great wrath, shouting: "What the devil doyou mean by this?" another great roar arose from across the valley, andhe was lying flat, and two other fine fellows were rolling in a furzebush without knowledge of it. But of the general and his horse there wasno longer any-token. 

This was the matter that lay so heavily on the breast of Captain Purvis, sadly-crushed as it was already by the spiteful stroke bitterly intendedfor him. His own men had meant no harm whatever, unless to the properenemy; although they appear to have been deluded by a subtle deviceof the Councillor, for which on the other hand none may blame him. Butthose redfaced men, without any inquiry, turned the muzz'l's of theirguns upon Somerset, and the injustice rankled for a generation betweentwo equally honest counties. Happily they did not fight it out throughscarcity of ammunition, as well as their mutual desire to go home andattend to their harvest business. 

But Anthony Purvis, now our guest and patient, became very difficult tomanage; not only because: of his three broken ribs, but the lowness ofthe heart inside them. Dr. Cutcliffe Lane, a most cheerful man from thatcheerful town Southmolton, was able (with the help of Providence) tomake the bones grow again without much anger into their own embraces. Itis useless, however, for the body to pretend that it is doing wonders onits own account, and rejoicing and holiday making, when the thing thatsits inside it and holds the whip, keeps down upon the slouch and is outof sorts. And truly this was the case just now with the soul of CaptainPurvis. Deborah Pring did her very best, and was in and out of hisroom every minute, and very often seemed to me to run him down when hedeserved it, not; on purpose that I might be started to run him up. But nothing of that sort told at all according to her intention. I keptmyself very much to myself; feeling that my nature was too kind, andasking at some little questions of behaviour, what sort of returns mydear father had obtained for supposing other people as good as himself. 

Moreover, it seemed an impossible thing that such a brave warrior, and arich man too--for his father, Sir Geoffrey, was in full possession nowof all the great property that belonged by right to us--that an officerwho should have been in command of this fine expedition, if he had hisdues, could be either the worse or the better of his wound, according tohis glimpses of a simple maid like me. It was useless for Deborah Pring, or even Dr. Cutcliffe Lane himself, to go on as they did about love atfirst sight, and the rising of the heart when, the ribs were broken, anda quantity of other stuff too foolish to repeat. "I am neither a plasternor a poultice, " I replied to myself, for I would not be too cross tothem--and beyond a little peep at him, every afternoon, I kept out ofthe sight of Captain Purvis. 

But these things made it very hard for me to be quite sure how toconduct myself, without father and mother to help me, and with MistressPring, who had always been such a landmark, becoming no more than a vanefor the wind to blow upon as it listed; or, perhaps, as she listed togo with it. And remembering how she used to speak of the people who hadousted us, I told her that I could not make it out. Things were in thiscondition, and Captain Purvis, as it seemed to me, quite fit to goand make war again upon some of His Majesty's subjects, when a thing, altogether out of reason, or even of civilisation, happened; and peoplewho live in lawful parts will accuse me of caring too little for thetruth. But even before that came about, something less unreasonable--butstill unexpected--befell me. To wit, I received through Mistress Pringan offer of marriage, immediate and pressing, from Captain AnthonyPurvis! He must have been sadly confused by that blow on his heart tothink mine so tender, or that this was the way to deal with it, thoughlater explanations proved that Deborah, if she had been just, would havetaken the whole reproach upon herself. The captain could scarcelyhave seen me, I believe more than half a dozen times to speak of; andgenerally he had shut his eyes, gentle as they were and beautiful;not only to make me feel less afraid, but to fill me with pity for hisweakness. Having no knowledge of mankind as yet, I was touched to thebrink of tears at first; until when the tray came out of his roomsoon after one of these pitiful moments, it was plain to the youngestcomprehension that the sick man had left very little upon a shoulder ofExmoor mutton, and nothing in a bowl of thick onion sauce. 

For that I would be the last to blame him, and being his hostess, Iwas glad to find it so. But Deborah played a most double-minded part;leading him to believe that now she was father and mother in one to me;while to me she went on, as if I was most headstrong, and certain to goagainst anything she said, though for her part she never said anything. Nevertheless he made a great mistake, as men always do, about our ways;and having some sense of what is right, I said, "Let me hear no more ofCaptain Purvis. "

This forced him to leave us; which he might have done, for aught I couldsee to the contrary, a full week before he departed. He behavedvery well when he said goodbye, --for I could not deny him thatoccasion, --and, perhaps, if he had not assured me so much of hiseverlasting gratitude, I should have felt surer of deserving it. PerhapsI was a little disappointed also, that he expressed no anxiety atleaving our cottage so much at the mercy of turbulent and triumphantoutlaws. But it was not for me to speak of that; and when I knew thereason of his silence, it redounded tenfold to his credit. Nothing, however, vexed me so much as what Deborah Pring said afterward: that hecould not help feeling in the sadness of his heart that I had behavedin that manner to him just because his father was in possession of ourrightful home and property. I was not so small as that; and if he trulydid suppose it, there must have been some fault on my part, for hisnature was good to everybody, and perhaps al! the better for notdescending through too many high generations. 

There is nothing more strange than the way things work in the mind ofa woman, when left alone, to doubt about her own behaviour. With men itcan scarcely be so cruel; because they can always convince themselvesthat they did their best; and if it fail, they can throw the fault uponProvidence, or bad luck, or something outside their own power. But weseem always to be denied this happy style of thinking, and cannot putaside what comes into our heart more quickly, and has less stir ofoutward things, to lead it away and to brighten it. So that I fellinto sad, low spirits; and the glory of the year began to wane, and theforest grew more and more lonesome. 

CHAPTER VI. --OVER THE BRIDGE. 

The sound of the woods was with me now, both night and day, to dwellupon. Exmoor in general is bare of trees, though it hath the name offorest; but in the shelter, where the wind flies over, are many thickplaces full of shade. For here the trees and bushes thrive, so copiouswith rich moisture that, from the hills on the opposite side, no eyemay pick holes in the umbrage; neither may a foot that gets amid thembe sure of getting out again. And now was the fullest and heaviesttime, for the summer had been a wet one, after a winter that went to ourbones; and the leaves were at their darkest tone without any sense ofautumn. As one stood beneath and wondered at their countless multitude, a quick breathing passed among them, not enough to make them move, butseeming rather as if they wished, and yet were half ashamed to sigh. Andthis was very sad for one whose spring Comes only once for all. 

One night toward the end of August I was lying awake thinking of thehappier times, and wondering what the end would be--for now we had verylittle money left, and I would rather starve than die in debt--when Iheard our cottage door smashed in and the sound of horrible voices. Theroar of a gun rang up the stairs, and the crash of someone falling andthe smoke came through my bedroom door, and then wailing mixed withcurses. "Out of the way, old hag!" I heard, and then another shriek;and then I stood upon the stairs-and looked down at them. The moon wasshining through the shattered door, and the bodies and legs of men wentto and fro, like branches in a tempest. Nobody seemed to notice me, although I had cast over my night-dress--having no more sense in theterror--a long silver coat of some animal shot by my father in hiswanderings, and the light upon the stairs glistened round it. Having notime to think, I was turning to flee and jump out of my bedroom window, for which I had made some arrangements, according to the wisdom of theCouncillor, when the flash of some light or the strain of my eyes showedme the body of Thomas Pring, our faithful old retainer, lying at thefoot of the broken door, and beside it his good wife, creeping up togive him the last embrace of death. And lately she had been cross tohim. At the sight of this my terror fled, and I cared not what becameof me. Buckling the white skin round my waist, I went down the stairs assteadily as if it were breakfast time, and said:

"Brutes, murderers, cowards! you have slain my father; now slay me!"

Every one of those wicked men stood up and fixed his eyes on me; and ifit had been a time to laugh, their amazement might have been laughedat. Some of them took me for a spirit--as I was told long afterward--andrightly enough their evil hearts were struck with dread of judgment. But even so, to scare them long in their contemptuous, godless vein wasbeyond the power of Heaven itself; and when one of my long tresses fell, to my great vexation, down my breast, a shocking sneer arose, and wordsunfit for a maiden's ear ensued. 

"None of that! This is no farmhouse wench, but a lady of birth andbreeding. She shall be our queen, instead of the one that hath beenfilched away. Sylvia, thou shalt come with me. "

The man who spoke with this mighty voice was a terror to the others, forthey fell away before him, and he was the biggest monster there--CarverDoone, whose name for many a generation shall be used to frighten unrulybabes to bed. And now, as he strode up to me and bowed, --to show somebreeding, --I doubt if the moon, in all her rounds of earth and skyand the realms below, fell ever upon another face so cold, repulsive, ruthless. 

To belong to him, to feel his lips, to touch him with anything but adagger! Suddenly I saw my father's sword hanging under a beam in thescabbard. With a quick spring I seized it, and, leaping up the stairs, had the long blade gleaming in the moonlight. The staircase would nothold two people abreast, and the stairs were as steep as narrow. Ibrought the point down it, with the hilt against my breast, and therewas no room for another blade to swing and strike it up. 

"Let her alone!" said Carver Doone, with a smile upon his cold andcorpselike face. "My sons, let the lady have her time. She is worthy tobe the mother of many a fine Doone. "

The young men began to lounge about in a manner most provoking, as ifI had passed from their minds altogether; and some of them went to thekitchen for victuals, and grumbled at our fare by the light of a lanternwhich they had found upon a shelf. But I stood at my post, with my heartbeating, so that the long sword quivered like a candle. Of my life theymight rob me, but of my honour, never!

"Beautiful maiden! Who hath ever seen the like? Why, even Lorna hath notsuch eyes. "

Carver Doone came to the foot of the stairs and flashed the lanternat me, and, thinking that he meant to make a rush for it, I thrust myweapon forward; but at the same moment a great pair of arms was thrownaround me from behind by some villain who must have scaled my chamberwindow, and backward I fell, with no sense or power left. 

When my scattered wits came back I felt that I was being shakengrievously, and the moon was dancing in my eyes through a mist of tears, half blinding them. I remember how hard I tried to get my fingers upto wipe my eyes, so as to obtain some knowledge; but jerk and bump andhelpless wonder were all that I could get or take; for my hands werestrapped, and my feet likewise, and I seemed like a wave going up anddown, without any judgment, upon the open sea. 

But presently I smelled the wholesome smell which a horse of all animalsalone possesses, though sometimes a cow is almost as good, and then Ifelt a mane coming into my hair, and then there was the sound of steadyfeet moving just under me, with rise and fall and swing alternate, and asense of going forward. I was on the back of a great, strong horse, and he was obeying the commands of man. Gradually I began to think, andunderstood my awful plight. The Doones were taking me to Doone Glen tobe some cut-throat's light-of-love; perhaps to be passed from bruteto brute--me, Sylvia Ford, my father's darling, a proud and dainty andstately maiden, of as good birth as any in this English realm. My heartbroke down as I thought of that, and all discretion vanished. Though myhands were tied my throat was free, and I sent forth such a scream ofwoe that the many-winding vale of Lynn, with all its wild waters couldnot drown, nor with all its dumb foliage smother it; and the long wailrang from crag to crag, as the wrongs of men echo unto the ears of God. 

"Valiant damsel, what a voice thou hast! Again, and again let it strikethe skies. With them we are at peace, being persecuted here, accordingto the doom of all good men. And yet I am loth to have that fair throatstrained. "

It was Carver Doone who led my horse; and his horrible visage glaredinto my eyes through the strange, wan light that flows between thedeparture of the sinking moon and the flutter of the morning when itcannot see its way. I strove to look at him; but my scared eyes fell, and he bound his rank glove across my poor lips. "Let it be so, " Ithought; "I can do no more. "

Then, when my heart was quite gone in despair, and all trouble shrankinto a trifle, I heard a loud shout, and the trample of feet, and therattle of arms, and the clash of horses. Contriving to twist myself alittle, I saw that the band of the Doones were mounting a saddle-backedbridge in a deep wooded glen, with a roaring water under them. On thecrown of the bridge a vast man stood, such as I had never descriedbefore, bearing no armour that I could see, but wearing a farmer's hat, and raising a staff like the stem of a young oak tree. He was strikingat no one, but playing with his staff, as if it were a willow in themorning breeze. 

"Down with him! Ride him down! Send a bullet through him!" several ofthe Doones called out, but no one showed any hurry to do it. It seemedas if they knew him, and feared his mighty strength, and their guns werenow slung behind their backs on account of the roughness of the way. 

"Charlie, you are not afraid of him, " I heard that crafty Carver say tothe tallest of his villains, and a very handsome young man he was; "ifthe girl were not on my horse, I would do it. Ride over him, and youshall have my prize, when I am tired of her. "

I felt the fire come into my eyes, to be spoken of so by a brute;and then I saw Charlie Doone spur up the bridge, leaning forward andswinging a long blade round his head. 

"Down with thee, clod!" he shouted; and he showed such strength and furythat I scarce could look at the farmer, dreading to see his great headfly away. But just as the horse rushed at him, he leaped aside with mostwonderful nimbleness, and the rider's sword was dashed out of his grasp, and down he went, over the back of the saddle, and his long legs spun upin the air, as a juggler tosses a two-pronged fork. 

"Now for another!" the farmer cried, and his deep voice rang above theroar of Lynn; "or two at once, if it suits you better. I will teach youto carry off women, you dogs!"

But the outlaws would not try another charge. On a word from theirleader they all dismounted, and were bringing their long guns to bear, and I heard the clink of their flints as they fixed the trigger. CarverDoone, grinding his enormous teeth, stood at the head of my horse, whowas lashing and plunging, so that I must have been flung if any of thestraps had given way. In terror of the gun flash I shut my eyes, for ifI had seen that brave man killed, it would have been the death of me aswell. Then I felt my horse treading on something soft. Carver Doone wasbeneath his feet, and an awful curse came from the earth. 

"Have no fear!" said the sweetest voice that ever came into the ears ofdespair. "Sylvia, none can harm you now. Lie still, and let this protectyour face. "

"How can I help lying still?" I said, as a soft cloak was thrown overme, and in less than a moment my horse was rushing through branches andbrushwood that swept his ears. At his side was another horse, and mybridle rein was held by a man who stooped over his neck in silence. Though his face was out of sight, I knew that Anthony Purvis was leadingme. 

There was no possibility of speaking now, but after a tumult of speed wecame to an open glade where the trees fell back, and a gentle brook wasgurgling. Then Captain Purvis cut my bonds, and lifting me down verysoftly, set me upon a bank of moss, for my limbs would not support me;and I lay there unable to do anything but weep. 

When I returned to myself, the sun was just looking over a wooded cliff, and Anthony, holding a horn of water, and with water on his cheeks, wasregarding me. 

"Did you leave that brave man to be shot?" I asked, as if that were allmy gratitude. 

"I am not so bad as that, " he answered, without any anger, for he sawthat I was not in reason yet. "At sight of my men, although we were butfive in all, the robbers fled, thinking the regiment was there; but itis God's truth that I thought little of anyone's peril compared withthine. But there need be no fear for John Ridd; the Doones are mightyafraid of him since he cast their culverin through their door. "

"Was that the John Ridd I have heard so much of? Surely I might haveknown it, but my wits were shaken out of me. "

"Yes, that was the mighty man of Exmoor, to whom thou owest more thanlife. "

In horror of what I had so narrowly escaped, I fell upon my knees andthanked the Lord, and then I went shyly to the captain's side and said:"I am ashamed to look at thee. Without Anthony Purvis, where should Ibe? Speak of no John Ridd to me. "

For this man whom I had cast forth, with coldness, as he must havethought--although I knew better, when he was gone--this man (my honouredhusband now, who hath restored me to my father's place, when kings hadno gratitude or justice), Sir Anthony Purvis, as now he is, had dwelledin a hovel and lived on scraps, to guard the forsaken orphan, who hadwon, and shall ever retain, his love.