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THE MAID OF SKER.
[Illustration: "_All for captain, crew and cargo, was a little helpless
child._"]
THE MAID OF SKER.
BY
R. D. BLACKMORE,
AUTHOR OF
'LORNA DOONE,' 'CLARA VAUGHAN,' AND 'CRADOCK NOWELL.'
᾽Εῥῥε, θεοῑσίν τ᾽ ἐχθρἐ, κἀι ἀνθρωποισιν ἅπιστε,
ψυχρῳ ὃς ἐν κὁλπῲ ποἱκίλον ἐιχες ὅφιν.]
NEW EDITION,
WITH A FRONTISPIECE.
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCXCIII
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. FISHERMAN DAVY A FISH OUT OF WATER, 1
II. HUNGER DRIVES HIM A-FISHING, 3
III. THE FISH ARE AS HUNGRY AS HE IS, 7
IV. HE LANDS AN UNEXPECTED FISH, 12
V. A LITTLE ORPHAN MERMAID, 15
VI. FINDS A HOME OF SOME SORT, 21
VII. BOAT _VERSUS_ BARDIE, 27
VIII. CHILDREN WILL BE CHILDREN, 32
IX. SANDHILLS TURNED TO SAND-HOLES, 38
X. UNDER THE ROCK, 44
XI. A WRECKER WRECKED, 49
XII. HOW TO SELL FISH, 57
XIII. THE CORONER AND THE CORONET, 64
XIV. IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE EVIDENCE, 70
XV. A VERDICT ON THE JURY, 76
XVI. TRUTH LIES SOMETIMES IN A WELL, 81
XVII. FOR A LITTLE CHANGE OF AIR, 89
XVIII. PUBLIC APPROBATION, 97
XIX. A CRAFT BEYOND THE LAW, 106
XX. CONFIDENTIAL INTERCOURSE, 112
XXI. CROSS-EXAMINATION, 119
XXII. ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT, 125
XXIII. INTO GOOD SOCIETY, 131
XXIV. SOUND INVESTMENTS, 137
XXV. A LONG GOOD-BYE, 145
XXVI. BRAUNTON BURROWS, 151
XXVII. A FINE SPECTACLE, 158
XXVIII. SOMETHING ABOUT HIM, 164
XXIX. A VISIT TO A PARSON, 171
XXX. ON DUTY, 182
XXXI. TWO LOVERS, 189
XXXII. AMONG THE SAVAGES, 194
XXXIII. IN A STATE OF NATURE, 203
XXXIV. WAITING AND LEARNING, 212
XXXV. THE POLITE FERRYMAN, 220
XXXVI. UNDER FAIRER AUSPICES, 227
XXXVII. TWO POOR CHILDREN, 234
XXXVIII. A FINE OLD GENTLEMAN, 241
XXXIX. NOTICE TO QUIT, 250
XL. FORCIBLE EJECTMENT, 257
XLI. THE RIGHT MAN IN THE RIGHT PLACE, 267
XLII. THE LITTLE MAID AND THE MIDSHIPMAN, 276
XLIII. A FINE PRICE FOR BARDIE, 283
XLIV. PROVIDES FOR EDUCATION, 292
XLV. INTRODUCES A REAL HERO, 298
XLVI. AFTER SEVEN YEARS, 305
XLVII. MISCHIEF IN A HOUSEHOLD, 312
XLVIII. A BREATHLESS DISINTERMENT, 320
XLIX. ONE WHO HAS INTERRED HIMSELF, 327
L. A BRAVE MAN RUNS AWAY, 334
LI. TRIPLE EDUCATION, 341
LII. GREAT MARCH OF INTELLECT, 347
LIII. BEATING UP FOR THE NAVY, 356
LIV. TAMING OF THE SAVAGES, 368
LV. UPON FOREIGN SERVICE, 374
LVI. EXILES OF SOCIETY, 380
LVII. MANY WEAK MOMENTS, 387
LVIII. MORE HASTE, LESS SPEED, 398
LIX. IN A ROCKY BOWER, 403
LX. NELSON AND THE NILE, 411
LXI. A SAVAGE DEED, 415
LXII. A RASH YOUNG CAPTAIN, 421
LXIII. POLLY AT HOME, 430
LXIV. SUSAN QUITE ACQUITS HERSELF, 438
LXV. SO DOES POOR OLD DAVY, 447
LXVI. THE MAID AT LAST IS "DENTIFIED," 453
LXVII. DOG EATS DOG, 458
LXVIII. THE OLD PITCHER AT THE WELL AGAIN, 465
THE MAID OF SKER.
CHAPTER I.
FISHERMAN DAVY A FISH OUT OF WATER.
I am but an ancient fisherman upon the coast of Glamorganshire, with
work enough of my own to do, and trouble enough of my own to heed, in
getting my poor living. Yet no peace there is for me among my friends
and neighbours, unless I will set to and try--as they bid me twice a-day
perhaps--whether I cannot tell the rights of a curious adventure which
it pleased Providence should happen, off and on, amidst us, now for a
good many years, and with many ins and outs to it. They assure me, also,
that all good people who can read and write for ten, or it may be
twenty, miles around the place I live in, will buy my book--if I can
make it--at a higher price, perhaps, per lb., than they would give me
even for sewin, which are the very best fish I catch: and hence
provision may be found for the old age and infirmities, now gaining upon
me, every time I try to go out fishing.
In this encouragement and prospect I have little faith, knowing how much
more people care about what they eat than what they read. Nevertheless I
will hope for the best, especially as my evenings now are very long and
wearisome; and I was counted a hopeful scholar, fifty years agone
perhaps, in our village school here--not to mention the Royal Navy; and
most of all, because a very wealthy gentleman, whose name will appear in
this story, has promised to pay all expenses, and £50 down (if I do it
well), and to leave me the profit, if any.
Notwithstanding this, the work of writing must be very dull to me,
after all the change of scene, and the open air and sea, and the many
sprees ashore, and the noble fights with Frenchmen, and the power of
oaths that made me jump so in his Majesty's navy. God save the King, and
Queen, and members of the Royal Family, be they as many as they
will--and they seem, in faith, to be manifold. But His power is equal to
it all, if they will but try to meet Him.
However, not to enter upon any view of politics--all of which are far
beyond the cleverest hand at a bait among us--I am inditing of a thing
very plain and simple, when you come to understand it; yet containing a
little strangeness, and some wonder, here and there, and apt to move
good people's grief at the wrongs we do one another. Great part of it
fell under mine own eyes, for a period of a score of years, or something
thereabout. My memory still is pretty good; but if I contradict myself,
or seem to sweep beyond my reach, or in any way to meddle with things
which I had better have let alone, as a humble man and a Christian, I
pray you to lay the main fault thereof on the badness of the times, and
the rest upon human nature. For I have been a roving man, and may have
gathered much of evil from contact with my fellow-men, although by
origin meant for good. In this I take some blame to myself; for if I had
polished my virtue well, the evil could not have stuck to it.
Nevertheless, I am, on the whole, pretty well satisfied with myself;
hoping to be of such quality as the Lord prefers to those perfect
creatures with whom He has no trouble at all, and therefore no
enjoyment.
But sometimes, taking up a book, I am pestered with a troop of doubts;
not only about my want of skill, and language, and experience, but
chiefly because I never have been a man of consummate innocence,
excellence, and high wisdom, such as all these writers are, if we go by
their own opinions.
Now, when I plead among my neighbours, at the mouth of the old well, all
the above, my sad shortcomings, and my own strong sense of them (which
perhaps is somewhat over-strong), they only pat me on the back, and
smile at one another, and make a sort of coughing noise, according to my
bashfulness. And then if I look pleased (which for my life I cannot help
doing), they wink, as it were, at one another, and speak up like this:--
"Now, Davy, you know better. You think yourself at least as good as any
one of us, Davy, and likely far above us all. Therefore, Davy the
fisherman, out with all you have to say, without any French palaver.
You have a way of telling things so that we can see them."
With this, and with that, and most of all with hinting about a
Frenchman, they put me on my mettle, so that I sit upon the side-stones
of the old-well gallery (which are something like the companion-rail of
a fore-and-after), and gather them around me, with the householders put
foremost, according to their income, and the children listening between
their legs; and thus I begin, but never end, the tale I now begin to
you, and perhaps shall never end it.