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 Wichehalse
said; 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 utmost
gallantry and encouraging the militia of Somerset, whose uniforms were
faced with yellow, he received in his chest a terrific blow from the
bottom of a bottle. This had been discharged from a culveria on the
opposite 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 on
the part of their excellent friends and neighbours, the loyal band of
Somerset. Either brigade had three culverins; and never having seen such
things before, as was natural with good farmers' sons, they felt it a
compliment to themselves to be intrusted with such danger, and resolved
to make the most of it. However, when they tried to make them go, with
the 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 a
very clever blacksmith near Malmesford, who had better, as it proved,
have stuck to the plough, persuaded them that he knew all about it, and
would bring their guns to bear, if they let him have his way. So they
took the long tubes from their carriages, and lashed rollers of barked
oak 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 roll
for recoil, and charged them to the very best of their knowledge, and
pointed them as nearly as they could guess at the dwellings of the
outlaws in the glen; three cannons on the north were of Somerset and the
three on the south were of Devonshire; but these latter had no balls of
metal, only anything round they could pick up. Colonel Stickles-was in
command, by virtue of his royal warrant, and his plan was to make his
chief assault in company with some chosen men, including his host,
young farmer Ridd, at the head of the valley where the chief entrance
was, while the trainbands pounded away on either side. And perhaps this
would have succeeded well, except for a little mistake in firing, for
which the enemy alone could be blamed with justice. For while Captain
Purvis was-behind the line rallying a few men who-showed fear, and not
expecting any combat yet, because Devonshire was not ready, an elderly
gentleman of great authority-appeared among the bombardiers. On his
breast he wore a badge of office, and in his hat a noble plume of the
sea 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 order
of His Majesty, I take supreme command. Ha, and high time, too, for it!
You idiots, where are you pointing your guns? What allowance have you
made for windage? Why, at that elevation, you'll shoot yourselves. Up
with your muzzles, you yellow jackanapes! Down on your bellies! Hand me
the 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 their
breasts for fear of the powder on their yellow facings. And thus they
were shaken by three great roars, and wrapped in a cloud of streaky
smoke. When this had cleared off, and they stood up, lo! the houses
of the Doones were the same as before, but a great shriek arose on the
opposite bank, and two good horses lay on the ground; and the red men
were stamping about, and some crossing their arms, and some running for
their lives, and the bravest of them stooping over one another. Then as
Captain Purvis rushed up in great wrath, shouting: “What the devil do
you mean by this?” another great roar arose from across the valley, and
he was lying flat, and two other fine fellows were rolling in a furze
bush without knowledge of it. But of the general and his horse there was
no 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 intended
for him. His own men had meant no harm whatever, unless to the proper
enemy; although they appear to have been deluded by a subtle device
of the Councillor, for which on the other hand none may blame him. But
those redfaced men, without any inquiry, turned the muzz'l's of their
guns upon Somerset, and the injustice rankled for a generation between
two equally honest counties. Happily they did not fight it out through
scarcity of ammunition, as well as their mutual desire to go home and
attend to their harvest business.
But Anthony Purvis, now our guest and patient, became very difficult to
manage; not only because: of his three broken ribs, but the lowness of
the heart inside them. Dr. Cutcliffe Lane, a most cheerful man from that
cheerful town Southmolton, was able (with the help of Providence) to
make the bones grow again without much anger into their own embraces. It
is useless, however, for the body to pretend that it is doing wonders on
its own account, and rejoicing and holiday making, when the thing that
sits inside it and holds the whip, keeps down upon the slouch and is out
of sorts. And truly this was the case just now with the soul of Captain
Purvis. Deborah Pring did her very best, and was in and out of his
room every minute, and very often seemed to me to run him down when he
deserved 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 kept
myself very much to myself; feeling that my nature was too kind, and
asking at some little questions of behaviour, what sort of returns my
dear father had obtained for supposing other people as good as himself.
Moreover, it seemed an impossible thing that such a brave warrior, and a
rich man too--for his father, Sir Geoffrey, was in full possession now
of all the great property that belonged by right to us--that an officer
who should have been in command of this fine expedition, if he had his
dues, could be either the worse or the better of his wound, according to
his 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 at
first sight, and the rising of the heart when, the ribs were broken, and
a quantity of other stuff too foolish to repeat. “I am neither a plaster
nor a poultice,” I replied to myself, for I would not be too cross to
them--and beyond a little peep at him, every afternoon, I kept out of
the sight of Captain Purvis.
But these things made it very hard for me to be quite sure how to
conduct myself, without father and mother to help me, and with Mistress
Pring, who had always been such a landmark, becoming no more than a vane
for the wind to blow upon as it listed; or, perhaps, as she listed to
go with it. And remembering how she used to speak of the people who had
ousted us, I told her that I could not make it out. Things were in this
condition, and Captain Purvis, as it seemed to me, quite fit to go
and make war again upon some of His Majesty's subjects, when a thing,
altogether out of reason, or even of civilisation, happened; and people
who live in lawful parts will accuse me of caring too little for the
truth. But even before that came about, something less unreasonable--but
still unexpected--befell me. To wit, I received through Mistress Pring
an offer of marriage, immediate and pressing, from Captain Anthony
Purvis! He must have been sadly confused by that blow on his heart to
think mine so tender, or that this was the way to deal with it, though
later explanations proved that Deborah, if she had been just, would have
taken the whole reproach upon herself. The captain could scarcely
have seen me, I believe more than half a dozen times to speak of; and
generally 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 his
weakness. Having no knowledge of mankind as yet, I was touched to the
brink of tears at first; until when the tray came out of his room
soon after one of these pitiful moments, it was plain to the youngest
comprehension that the sick man had left very little upon a shoulder of
Exmoor mutton, and nothing in a bowl of thick onion sauce.
For that I would be the last to blame him, and being his hostess, I
was 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 go
against 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 of
Captain Purvis.”
This forced him to leave us; which he might have done, for aught I could
see to the contrary, a full week before he departed. He behaved
very well when he said goodbye,--for I could not deny him that
occasion,--and, perhaps, if he had not assured me so much of his
everlasting gratitude, I should have felt surer of deserving it. Perhaps
I was a little disappointed also, that he expressed no anxiety at
leaving our cottage so much at the mercy of turbulent and triumphant
outlaws. But it was not for me to speak of that; and when I knew the
reason of his silence, it redounded tenfold to his credit. Nothing,
however, vexed me so much as what Deborah Pring said afterward: that he
could not help feeling in the sadness of his heart that I had behaved
in that manner to him just because his father was in possession of our
rightful home and property. I was not so small as that; and if he truly
did suppose it, there must have been some fault on my part, for his
nature was good to everybody, and perhaps al! the better for not
descending through too many high generations.
There is nothing more strange than the way things work in the mind of
a woman, when left alone, to doubt about her own behaviour. With men it
can scarcely be so cruel; because they can always convince themselves
that they did their best; and if it fail, they can throw the fault upon
Providence, or bad luck, or something outside their own power. But we
seem always to be denied this happy style of thinking, and cannot put
aside what comes into our heart more quickly, and has less stir of
outward things, to lead it away and to brighten it. So that I fell
into sad, low spirits; and the glory of the year began to wane, and the
forest grew more and more lonesome.