I don't believe that old well of ours would ever have been cleaned out
if it had not been for the magpie, which, by the way, in its tame state
is most decidedly as ill-conditioned, dishonest a bird as was ever
fledged. Now of course a magpie does not seem to have much to do with a
well; but as great oaks grow from little acorns, so do large matters
grow out of very small causes.
Our magpie was kept under the impression that he would some day talk;
but he never got any further than the monosyllable "Chark," which with
him meant as much as the Italian's "Altro." He could say the word
plainly when he was six months old; and he could say no more when he was
five years, and had achieved to a perpetual moult about the poll, which
had the effect of making him look ten times more weird and artful than
ever. He would say "chark" for everything, merely varying the key
higher or lower according to the exigencies of the case. Goblin came
into my possession in exchange for that piece of current money of the
merchant called sixpence, which was given to a little, consequential,
undersized, under-gardener at a neighbouring seat. This personage, who
was known in the place as "my lord," had early one morning scaled an
elm-tree to take a magpie's nest, but he was so unsuccessful as to
secure only one bird--the Goblin in question.
He was a beauty was Goblin; if I believed in the doctrine of
metempsychosis, I should say that his little body had been the
receptacle of the immortal part of Jack Sheppard--Harrison Ainsworth's
Jack Sheppard; for a more mischievous, thieving scamp never held head on
one side, leaped out of reach, after any amount of threatening, stared
at you with a keen black eye, and cried "chark." He was a bird that was
always in a state of voracity, or pretended to be so, and dearly loved
to hide scraps of meat in all sorts of out-of-the-way places, where he
would punch them in, and then forget them; although they smelt loud
enough to cause no end of complaints. He was a cleanly bird, too, in
his habits, and always took advantage of Newfoundland Nero's trough
being filled with clean water to have a wash, sully the fount, and then
hop shivering off to dry the plumage which stuck down to his sides.
So much for the magpie. The well was beneath the walnut-tree, and so
close to it that from time to time large pieces of chalk had been pushed
in by the roots that forced their way through the sides as if in search
of moisture. It was an old, old well, sunk no one knew how many
centuries before; but probably dug down out of the chalk, when the monks
held the old priory which we tenanted in its modernised form. The old
well was always an object of dread to me in childhood; and often have I
stealthily crept up to the old green wood cover, dropped a pebble
through the rope hole, and listened shudderingly to the hollow, echoing,
vibrating sound that came quivering up after the plash. Even in maturer
years the old well was one that would obtrude itself into dreams and
offer suggestions of the horrors to be found within its depths, and the
consequences of a fall to the bottom.
We only used the water for the garden, and hard work it used to be to
turn the moss-covered windlass, and drag up the heavy bucket at the end
of a hundred feet of rope, when up it came full of greeny-looking water,
with some times a frog for passenger. To look down and listen to the
hollow drip of the water was enough to make any one shudder, so profound
seemed the depth to where a ring of light could be seen, and in spite of
its depth, carved as it was right out of the solid chalk, there was
never more than some seven or eight feet of water at the bottom, and
that none of the cleanest.
Uncle Tom said it would be better filled up; a remark which found a most
enthusiastic backer in the old gardener; but water even if green and
discoloured was costly in those parts, and therefore the well was not
filled up. While as to my uncle's suggestion, to have it cleaned out,
although most excellent, I was too deeply imbued with the Toryish ideas
of letting things be as heretofore; and, therefore, the old gardener
ground and ground at the old windlass, and the water still came up
green; while, contrary to direct orders, the lid of the dangerous place
was often left off.
Now, as before said, I don't believe that old well of ours would ever
have been cleaned out if it had not been for the magpie.
One day in summer I had been sitting dreamily trying to follow out some
of the rather knotty thoughts in "Festus," when on raising my eyes I
caught sight of Goblin perched upon the little table in the bay window,
and before I could move I had the pleasure of seeing him nimbly hook up
my wife's diminutive watch off the little stand, and then hop on to the
window-sill, where I made a rush at him and nearly secured his spoil,
for the thin chain caught in the Westeria twining round the window. In
an instant, however, it had given way, and I had the satisfaction of
seeing the little black and white miscreant alight on the gravel walk;
and then after fixing the fragile timekeeper with his foot, begin to
peck vigorously at the glass, which was shivered directly.
I hurried downstairs, for the window was too high for a jump; and as
soon as I rushed to the door, Goblin gave utterance to his one syllable
address, seized the watch, and went hopping along the path till he
reached the well, where he perched upon the open lid; and as I stopped,
half paralysed, and stooped to pick up a stone, Goblin made me a bow,
raised his tail with a flick, and then to my horror he left hold of the
watch, and I just reached the well in time to hear it, not say "tick,"
but "splash," while the thief hopped into the walnut-tree overhead.
This settled the matter; and two mornings after, a cart stopped at the
gate, and Thomas Bore, well-sinker, arrived, accompanied by two
labourers, for the purpose of nominally cleaning out the well, but
really recovering the watch.
"Now, yer see, sir," said Thomas Bore, leaning on the windlass and
spitting down the well, of course, from habit, "yer see, sir, when we've
done, this here water 'll be clear as crischial. But all this here
wood-wuck's old-fashioned. Now I could fit yer up a fust-rate, double
action, wheel crank forcer, as 'ud send the water a-flying up like a
steam-engine."
"Rather expensive," I hinted.
"Mere trifle, sir. Fifty pun, at the outside."
"Well, suppose we have the cleaning done first," I said; and being
rather timid over such matters, for fear of being persuaded, I turned
upon my heel and fled to my breakfast.
Being of a fidgetty turn of mind, and liking to have my money's worth
for my money, I kept an eye upon the proceedings beneath the
walnut-tree; and I found that the first two hours were taken up with
sitting down, Indian fashion, for a palaver or consultation, during
which, in a way of speaking, the trio felt the patient's pulse--Goblin
fitting in the walnut-tree to see how matters progressed.
The rest of the day was taken up with the removal of the old green
windlass, and the fixing of one brought over for the purpose; and then
two buckets having been flung, the windlass began to turn, and, very
slowly, bucket after bucket of water was drawn up; and so eagerly did
the men work, that at the end of three days the well was pronounced dry.
Now I had been reckoning that a couple of days would have sufficed for
the job; and, therefore, felt disposed to stare when, on going out upon
the fourth morning, I found the men still groaning over the task, so as
to get out the water that had come in during the night. By noon,
however, this was accomplished; when there followed another
consultation, the theme being that the well was not safe.
I felt that I was in for it, and muttered to myself "Let well alone;"
but it was too late now, so I grinned and bore my troubles--to wit, the
very calm proceedings of the men whose united energies, tools, tackling,
etc, were costing me at least a guinea per diem, while the well was as
dirty as ever.
At last a candle was lit and attached to a piece of wire, the wire to a
string, and then it was lowered so fast that before it had attained to
two-thirds of the depth it was out.
"Ah," said Mr Bore, wagging his head sagely; "werry foul indeed, sir;
werry foul. We shall have to burn it out."
This, I found, was accomplished by throwing down a quantity of straw,
which was afterwards ignited by sending after it shovelfuls of hot
cinders from the kitchen fire, and so making a blaze and a great deal of
smoke; while this day passed over and no further progress was made.
The next morning I was out in good time, to the great disgust of Mr
Bore, and by ten o'clock I had the satisfaction of seeing the water out
once more.
"I 'spose one o' my men can get a candle in the kitchen, sir," said Mr
Bore.
I signified assent, and then had the satisfaction of seeing the testing
process gone through: the light going out before it reached the bottom,
which I could not believe was from mephitic gas, though sworn to by Mr
Bore, who proceeded to make another bonfire on the top of my wife's
watch, when I was called away, and did not go out again till half-past
two, when I found that a man armed with a shovel had just stepped into
one of the buckets, and the other man, who had a very red face, began,
with the assistance of his master, to let him down.
"Is it all right, Dick?" said Mr Bore, when the man was about half
down.
"Ah!" was the response, in a hollow voice; and then he was lowered,
further and further, till he must have been near the bottom, when the
rope shook; there was an evident loss of the load at the end; and I must
confess to a shudder of horror going through me, as a dull, plashing
thud came from the depths of the well.
Bore looked at me, and I at him, for a few seconds in silence, when the
other man spun round the now light windlass till the other bucket rose.
"Here, lay hold o' this here," he cried to me; and from the readiness to
obey felt by all in an emergency, I seized the windlass and assisted his
master to let him down, as he thrust one leg through the pail-handle and
was soon out of sight, for we lowered him down as fast as was possible.
"I'm blowed if there won't be a coroner's inquess over this job," panted
Mr Bore, as he turned away at his handle; "I know'd it warn't safe,
only he would go."
"For goodness sake, turn quicker man," I cried; and at last, after what
seemed ten minutes at least, the empty bucket rose.
"Now, then," I shouted down the well, "tie the rope round him, quick,
and then hang on."
No answer.
"Do you hear there?" I cried again, with a horrid dread coming over me
that the catastrophe was to be doubled; but at last a dull, "All right,"
came echoing up.
As for Bore, he sat there upon his handle looking the colour of dough.
I saw at once there was no help to be expected from him, so I shouted to
one of the maids, and in a few minutes my wife and half a dozen
neighbours, male and female, were standing, pale and horror-stricken,
around the well.
In the mean time I had tried again and again to rouse the last man down,
but could get nothing but a sort of half-stifled "All right;" while at
last even that was not forthcoming, nothing but a hollow stertorous
groan at intervals.
Brown, a stout young fellow, wanted to go down; but I stopped him, and
in a few seconds had our own well-rope secured round my waist, after
giving it a twist on the windlass; and then having seen the handles in
the hands of trusty men, I stepped into the bucket and prepared to
descend, feeling compelled to go, but all the while in a state of the
most horrible fear imaginable, for I always was from a boy a sad coward.
"Oh! don't; pray don't go, Fred," whispered my wife, as she clung to me.
"I must, I must, darling," I whispered again. "It would be worse than
murder to let the poor fellows lie there when a little exertion would
save them."
"Oh! for my sake, don't, pray;" and then the poor little woman
staggered, and would have fallen down the well if I had not caught her
in my arms; when we should both have fallen but for the rope round my
waist, which fortunately stood the strain, but cut into my ribs
fearfully.
There were plenty of hands, though, ready to assist, and the poor
fainting girl was borne into the house.
"Now then," I cried, "lower gently; and the moment I stop crying out
`Right' haul up again, for there will be something wrong."
The windlass creaked and groaned, and then all at once the people round
the well seemed to give a jump upwards, and then were gone, while the
green, slimy sides of the pit were running up past me as I seemed to
stand still in the well-sinker's broad oak bucket. For a moment I clung
to the rope with my eyes shut, when all at once there was a bump, and I
opened them to see that I was ascending.
"Right, right," I shouted, when there was another jerk, and I began to
descend again, at intervals crying out the word of safety--`Right'; and
so I went down and down, with my flesh creeping, and a strange
sensation, as though I was falling rapidly through space.
I have no doubt there are plenty of men who would be heroes at proper
time and place; but there is no heroic stuff in my composition, for I
here boldly assert that I never felt so horribly frightened before in my
life, as I went gliding down lower and lower past the green slimy chalk,
with the bucket swinging terribly from side to side; for the well was of
very large diameter. I kept on giving the signal, and have no idea how
it sounded above, but it seemed to me as though it left my lips in the
shape of a gasping sob.
Still down, down, with the horrid feeling of falling, and a holding of
the breath. The depth seemed awful; and now, though doubly secured, I
trembled for the safety of the ropes, and turned giddy and closed my
eyes.
"Is it all right?" shouted a voice from above, and my descent stopped.
"Yes, yes," I shouted, recovering myself; but I could not say "Go on";
for, to my shame I say it, I hoped they would have drawn me up.
But, no; down, down, lower and lower. And now I began to smell the
burnt, smoky air, but could still breathe freely, and tried to nerve
myself to be on the watch for the strata of foul gas into which I felt I
must be descending.
"Right, right," I kept shouting; and still down, lower and lower, till
it seemed that there could be no bottom; while the bucket kept turning
round till it was impossible to keep from feeling giddy. And now in one
swing from side to side, the bucket struck the wall, which gave me a new
cause for alarm, and when nearing it again, I put out my hand and
touched the cold slippery side, when I shuddered more than ever.
It did not seem dark: but of a peculiar gloomy aspect, a good deal of
which was due, no doubt, to the smoke of the burnt straw.
"Right, right," I shouted, still breathing freely, till the bucket
reached the bottom, when I stepped hastily out, and, looking up the
well, untwined the two ropes, and grasped the man nearest to me, who was
sitting upon the half-burnt straw with which the bottom was covered;
while the other stood staring at me as he leaned up against the wall,
over his knees in the slime of the bottom.
I could feel no holding of the breath; no stifling or sleepy sensation;
nothing but horrible fear; as I hastily slipped the rope over my head
and secured it with a noose round the poor fellow, whose arm I grasped.
I trembled as I did so, for it seemed like throwing away my own
safeguard. But in a moment more I stepped in the bucket and yelled
out--"Up, up, quickly."
The rope tightened, and we began to rise; and as we did so I shouted to
the poor fellow we were leaving--"Back for you directly."
He stared at me with, glassy eyes, but remained immoveable; and I felt
my courage rise as we grew less and less distant from the light of
heaven. The ropes twisted and turned, but we rose rapidly, and as the
windlass creaked and groaned I could hear the voices above cheering, and
I responded with a faint "hurrah." But directly after the fear came
upon me again--"Suppose the rope should break!" It did not, though; but
I nearly left go of the stout hemp with the effects of the tremor which
seized me. But now the cheers grew louder, and at last our heads rose
above the sides, when a dozen hands laid hold of us, and we were on
_terra firma_ once more.
"Here, drink this," cried a voice; and a glass of brandy was pushed into
my hand. It was nectar indeed.
"Now," cried young Brown, "I'll fetch this one up."
"No," said I, sternly, "I'll go; for I can stand the foul air."
The ropes were arranged, and directly after I was again descending; and
this time the dread did not seem so oppressive, for I did not feel such
horror of the mephitic gas at the bottom, since it seemed to me that the
excitement--the state of my nerves--sustained me, and I shouted to them
to lower faster.
On reaching the bottom, the man had not moved his position, and without
leaving the bucket, to whose rope I had bound myself with a silk
handkerchief I slipped off the noose again, and secured it round the
other's body.
The same glassy, dull stare--the same immobility of countenance--the
same corpse-like aspect as seen in the gloom, and then, with a cry of
wild joy, I shrieked--"Up; up;" but it seemed as though we should never
reach the surface as we swung and spun about, and once, to my horror, I
saw the rope was slipping over the man's shoulders; and it was only by
clasping him tightly in my arms I saved him from falling.
Daylight and willing hands at length; and then I staggered as I was
unfastened, and all seemed to swim round as I fainted away.
On coming to I found myself on the grass by the side of the two men, who
were alive, as I could hear by their stertorous breathing. Kneeling by
me was old Dr Scott, looking up at Brown, who had evidently just
spoken.
"Mephitic air, sir," said the doctor, "pooh; as drunk as Pharaoh's sow!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The well was finally cleaned out, and the recovered watch as well;
while, by way of consolation for my misapplied energy, I could
congratulate myself upon the discovery of a hidden vein of philanthropy
in my constitution.