DOG EATS DOG.
To a man, whose time of life begins to be a subject of some
consideration to him, when the few years still in hope can be counted on
a hand, and may not need a finger; and with the tide of this world
ebbing to the inevitable sea--to him there is scarcely any sweet and
gentle pastime more delightful than to sit on a bank of ancient moss,
beside a tidal river, and watch the decreasing waters, and prove his
own eternity by casting a pebble into them.
Hence it was that Sir Philip Bampfylde, on the very morning after I gave
him back his grandchild, sate gazing into the ebb of the Tawe, some
fifty yards below the spot, whence Jack Wildman's father carried off so
wickedly that helpless pair of children. Here it was my privilege to
come up to Sir Philip, and spread before him my humble reasons for
having preferred the kitchen last night to the dining-room and the
drawing-room. It was consistent with my nature; and he, though wishing
otherwise, agreed not to be offended.
Then I asked him how the young lady (whose health every one of us had
honoured, all over the kitchen-table) had contrived to pass the night,
and whether she had seen her father yet. He said she had slept pretty
well considering, but that as concerned her father, they had not thought
it wise to let her see him, until the doctor came. There was no telling
how it might act upon Squire Philip's constitution, after so many years
of misery, cobwebs, and desolation. For Providence had not gifted him
with a mind so strong as his father's was, and the sudden break in on
the death of the mind has been known, in such a case, to lead to bodily
decease. But few things vexed the General more than that wretched lie of
Chowne's, and slander upon a loyal family while in service of the Crown.
What Captain Drake had landed from the boat was not an arm-chest, but a
chest of plate and linen, belonging to his brother, which he would no
longer borrow, while the Squire so cruelly dealt with him.
Then I asked Sir Philip whether the ancient builder over at Appledore
had been sent for to depose to the boat; for we had brought that little
craft on the top of our coach from Ilfracombe. The General said that I
might see him even now examining her, if I would only take the trouble
to look round the corner; but he himself was so well convinced, without
any further testimony, that he did not even care to hear what the old
man had to say of it, any more than he cared for the jemmyset. This,
however, is not my manner of regarding questions. Not from any private
fountains of conviction, and so on, but out of the mouths of many
witnesses shall a thing be established. Therefore I hastened round the
corner, to sift this ancient boatwright.
As surly a fellow as ever lived, and from his repugnance to my uniform,
one who had made more money, I doubt, by the smuggler's keg than the
shipwright's adze. Entering into his nature at sight, I took the upper
hand of him, as my rank insisted on.
"Hark ye now, master ship-carpenter, where was this little craft put
together, according to your opinion?"
Either this fellow was deaf as a post, or else he meant to insult me,
for he took no more notice of me than he did of the pigs that were
snuffling at beech-nuts down by the side of the landing-place. I am not
the right man to put up with insolence; therefore I screwed my
hammer-head into the socket below my muscles, and therewith dealt him a
tap on his hat, just to show what might come afterwards.
Receiving this administration, and seeing that more was very likely from
the same source to be available, what did this rogue do but endeavour to
show the best side of his manners. Wherefore, to let him have his say,
here is his opinion.
"This here boat be the same as I built, year as my wife were took with
quinzy, and were called home by the Lord. I built her for Wild-duck of
Appledore, a little dandy-rigged craft as used to be hired by Cap'en
Bampfylde. To this here boat I can swear, although some big rogue have
been at work, painting her, as knew not how to paint; and a lubber, no
doubt, every now and then patching her up, or repairing of her. The name
in her stern have been painted up from 'Wild-duck, Appledore,' into
'Santa Lucia, Salvador;' three or four letters are my own, the rest are
the work of some pirate. She be no more foreign-build than I be. But a
sailor accustomed to foreign parts would be sure to reckon so, reason
why I served my time with a builder over to Port-au-Prince. And I should
like to see the man anywhere round these here parts, as can tuck in the
bends as I does."
Leaving this conceited fellow to his narrow unpleasantness, I turned my
head, and there beheld Captain Bluett harkening.
"Come," he cried out, in his hearty manner, "what a cook's boiling of
fools we are! Here we are chewing a long-chewed quid, while the devil
that brewed this gale of wind may fly far away, and grin at us.
Llewellyn, do you mean to allow----"
"Hush," I said softly, for that low shipwright showed his eyes coming up
under his cap. And I saw that he was that particular villain, after his
scurrilous words about me, who would sell his soul to that wretch of a
Chowne for half-a-crown a-week almost. Therefore I led our young Captain
Bluett well away out of this fellow's hearing.
"Davy," said he, "we all know your courage, your readiness, and your
resources. Still you appear to be under a spell--and you know you are
superstitious about this cunning and cowardly blackguard, who frightens
the whole of this country, as he never could frighten Glamorganshire."
"I have no fear of him, sir," I said; "I will go with you to confront
him."
"Why, your teeth are ready to chatter, Llewellyn; and your lips are
blue! You who stood like a mile-stone, they tell me, at the helm of the
Goliath, or like a clock going steadily tick, before we fired a shot,
and with both shell and shot through your grey whiskers----"
"But, Captain, a minister of the Lord----"
"Master, a minister of the devil--once for all, to-day I go to horsewhip
him, if he is young enough; or to pull his nose if he is old enough, and
Old Harry be with him in choice of the two? Zounds, sir, is it a thing
to laugh at?"
Rodney Bluett was well known to every one who served under him for the
mildness of his language, and the want of oaths he had; and so, of
course, for his self-control, and the power of his heart when it did
break forth. Everybody loved him because he never cursed any one at a
venture, and kept himself very close to facts, however hard driven by
circumstances; so that I was now amazed to hear this young man spoil my
pipe with violent emotions.
"Have you consulted Sir Philip?" I asked. "It is his place to take up
the question."
"What question? There is no question. The thing is proved. My duty is
plain. Sir Philip is too old to see to it. The Squire is a spooney. The
Commodore is not here yet. I have spoken to his wife, who is a very
sweet and wise lady; and she agrees with me that it will save the family
a world of scandal; and perhaps failure of the law, for me to take the
law into my own hands, and thrash this blackguard within an inch of his
life."
"To be sure, and save her husband from the risk of tackling a desperate
man. It is most wise on her part. But I beg you, my dear sir, for the
sake of your dear uncle and your good mother, keep clear of this
quarrel. You know not the man you have to deal with. Even if you can
thrash him, which is no easy business, he will shoot you afterwards. He
is the deadest shot in the county."
"Hurrah!" cried Rodney, tossing up his hat; "that entirely settles it.
Come along, old fellow, and show us the way: and not a word to any one."
Now this may seem a very mad resolve for a man of my sense to give into.
But whether I turned myself this way or that, I could see no chance of
bettering it. If I refused to go, young Rodney (as I could see by the
set of his mouth) would go alone, and perhaps get killed, and then how
could any of the family ever look at me again? On the other hand, if I
should go to the Colonel, or to the General, for opinion, and to beg
them to stop it, my interference--nine chances to one--would only end in
giving offence among the superior orders. Add to this my real desire to
square it out with Chowne himself, after all his persecution, and you
may be able to forgive me for getting upon horseback, after many years
of forbearance, and with my sugar-nippers screwed on, to lay hold by the
forestay, if she should make bad weather. Also, I felt it my duty to
take a double-barrelled pistol, heavily loaded and well primed.
Captain Rodney forged ahead so on a real hunting-craft, that my dappled
grey, being warranted not to lurch me overboard, could not keep in line
whatever sail I made upon her. My chief rule in life is not to hurry.
What good ever comes of it? People only abuse you, and your breath is
too short to answer them. Moreover, I felt an uneasy creaking in my
bends from dousing forward, and then easing backward, as a man must do
who knows how to ride. The Captain was wroth with me, out of all reason;
but as he could not find the way to Nympton Moors without me, I was
enabled to take my leisure, having the surety of overgetting him when
the next cross-road came. Therefore it was late afternoon when we turned
into the black fir-grove which led up to the house of Chowne, and Rodney
Bluett clutched the big whip in his hand severely. For we had asked at
the little inn of which I spoke a long time ago, whether the Parson was
now at home.
"Ay, that 'un be," said the man with a grin, for we did not see the
landlady; "but ye best way not to go nigh 'un."
Already I seemed not to feel as I hoped, in the earlier stage of the
journey. My thoughts had been very upright for a while, and spirited,
and delighted; but now I began to look at things from a different point
of view almost. It is not man's business to worry his head about
righting of wrongs in this world, unless they are done to himself; and
if so, revenge is its name, and an ugly one. Long life leads one to
forgive, when to carry it on would be troublesome.
Through the drip of dying leaves, the chill of dull November now began
to darken over us as we turned the corner of Chowne's own road, and
faced his lonely mansion. The house had a heavy and sullen look,
according to my ideas, not receiving light and pleasure of the sun when
possible. Heavy fir-trees overhung it, never parting with their weight;
and the sunset (when there was any) could not pierce the holm-oaks.
"What a gloomy and devilish place!" cried Rodney Bluett, beginning to
tremble from some unknown influence. "Upon my soul, if I lived here, I
should be hatching plots myself. Or is it the nature of the man that has
made the place so horrible?"
"Let us go back," said I; "come back, my good sir, I conjure you. Such a
man should be left to God, to punish in His own good time."
"Hark!" cried Rodney, pulling up, and listening through the gloomy wood;
"that was a woman's scream, I am sure. Is he murdering some more little
ones?"
We listened, and heard a loud piercing shriek, that made our hair stand
on end almost, so mad was it, and so unearthly; and then two more of yet
wilder agony; and after that a long low wailing.
"On, on!" cried Rodney Bluett; "you know these paths, gallop on, Davy."
"You go first," I answered; "your horse is fresher; I am coming--to be
sure I am--do you think I am frightened?"
"Well, I don't know," he replied; "but I am not ashamed to own that I
am."
Clapping spurs to his horse, he dashed on; and thoroughly miserable as I
felt, there was nothing for me but to follow him.
In the name of the Lord, what a sight we came on, where the drive sweeps
round at the corner of the house! Under a dark tree of some sort, and on
a garden bench, we discovered the figures of two women. Or rather, one
sate on the bench; the other lay stretched on the ground, with her head
cast recklessly back on the ledge, her hair spread in masses over it,
and both hands pressed on her eyes and ears, to shut out sight and
hearing. Her lips were open, and through her white teeth came wails of
anguish, that would have been shrieks, if nature had not failed her.
But the elder woman sate upright, in scorn of all such weakness, with
her gaunt figure drawn like a cable taut, no sign of a tear on her
shrunken cheeks, and the whole of her face as numb and cold as an iced
figure-head in the Arctic seas. Yet no one, with knowledge of the human
race, could doubt which of these two suffered most.
We reined up our horses, and gazed in terror, for neither of them
noticed us; and then we heard, from inside the house, sounds that made
our flesh creep. Barking, howling, snapping of teeth, baying as of a
human bloodhound, frothy splutterings of fury, and then smothered
yelling.
"Her have a gat 'un now," cried a clown, running round the end of the
house, as if he were enjoying it. "Reckon our passon wun't baite much
moore, after Passon Jack be atop of 'un."
"Oh sir, oh sir, oh for God's sake, sir," cried the poor lady who had
lain on the ground, rushing up to us, and kneeling, and trying to get
hold of us; "you must have come to stop it, sir. Only one hour--allow
him one hour, dear, dear sirs, for repentance. He has not been a good
man, I know, but I am his own wife, good kind sirs--and if he could only
have a little time, if it were only half an hour--he might, he
might----"
Here a sound of throttling came through a broken windowpane, and down
she fell insensible.
"What does it mean?" cried Rodney Bluett; "is it murder, madness, or
suicide? Follow me, Davy. Here I go, anyhow, into the thick of it."
He dashed through the window; and I with more caution, cocking my
pistol, followed him, while I heard the clown shouting after us--
"Danged vules both of 'e. Bide outside, bide outside, I tell 'e."
Oh that we had remained outside! I have been through a great deal of
horrible sights, enough to harden any man, and cure him of womanly
squeamishness. Yet never did I behold, or dream of, anything so awful as
the scene that lay before me. People were longing to look at it now, but
none (save ourselves) durst enter.
It was Chowne's own dining-room, all in the dark, except where a lamp
had been brought in by a trembling footman, who ran away, knowing that
he brought this light for his master to be strangled by. And in the
corner now lay his master, smothered under a feather-bed; yet with his
vicious head fetched out in the last rabid struggle to bite. There was
the black hair, black face, and black tongue, shown by the frothy
wainscot, or between it and the ticking. On the feather-bed lay
exhausted, and with his mighty frame convulsed, so that a child might
master him, Parson Jack Rambone, the strongest man, whose strength (like
all other powers) had laid a horrible duty upon him. Sobbing with all
his great heart he lay, yet afraid to take his weight off, and sweating
at every pore with labour, peril of his life, and agony.
"Oh Dick, Dick," he said, quite softly, and between his pantings; "how
many larks have we had together, and for me to have to do this to you! I
am sure you knew me, before you died. I think you know me now, Dick. Oh,
for God's sake, shut your eyes! Darling Dick, are you dead, are you
dead? You are the very cleverest fellow ever I came across of. You can
do it, if you like. Oh, dear Dick, Dick, my boy, do shut your eyes!"
We stood looking at them, with no power to go up to them; all experience
failed us as to what was the proper thing to do, till I saw that
Chowne's face ought to have a napkin over it. None had been laid for
dinner; but I knew where butlers keep them.
When I had done this, Parson Jack (who could not escape from the great
black eyes) arose, and said, "I thank you, sir." He staggered so that we
had to support him; but not a word could we say to him. "I am bitten in
two places, if not more," he rather gasped than said to us, as he laid
bare his enormous arms. "I care not much. I will follow my friend. Or if
the Lord should please to spare me, henceforth I am an altered man. And
yet, for the sake of my family, will you heat the kitchen poker?"