Master Rayburn, the old scholar, angler, and, in a small way,
naturalist, had no pretensions to being either physician or surgeon; but
there was neither within a day's journey, and in the course of a long
career, he had found out that in ordinary cases nature herself is the
great curer of ills. He had noticed how animals, if suffering from
injuries, would keep the place clean with their tongues, and curl up and
rest till the wounds healed; that if they suffered from over-eating they
would starve themselves till they grew better; that at certain times of
the year they would, if carnivorous creatures, eat grass, or, if
herbivorous, find a place where the rock-salt which lay amongst the
gypsum was laid bare, and lick it; and that even the birds looked out
for lime at egg-laying time to form shell, and swallowed plenty of tiny
stones to help their digestion.
He was his own doctor when he was unwell, which, with his healthy,
abstemious, open-air life, was not often; and by degrees the people for
miles round found out that he made decoctions of herbs--camomile and
dandelion, foxglove, rue, and agrimony, which had virtues of their own.
He it was who cured Dan Rugg of that affection which made the joints of
his toes and fingers grow stiff, by making him sit for an hour a day,
holding hands and feet in the warm water which gushed out of one part of
the cliff to run into the river, and coated sticks and stones with a
hard stony shell, not unlike the fur found in an old tin kettle.
He knew that if a man broke a leg, arm, or rib, and the bones were laid
carefully in their places, and bandaged so that they could not move,
nature would make bony matter ooze from the broken ends and gradually
harden, forming a knob, perhaps, at the joining, but making the place
grow up stronger than ever; and it took no great amount of gumption to
grasp the fact that what was good for a cut finger was equally good for
arm, head, leg, or thigh; that is to say, to wash the bleeding wound
clean, lay the cut edges together, and sew and bandage them so that they
kept in place. With a healthy person, nature did all the rest, and
Master Rayburn laughed good-humouredly to himself as he found that he
got all the credit.
"Nature doesn't mind," he used to say to one or other of the lads.
"There's no vanity there, my boys; but I'm not half so clever as they
think."
But let that be as it may, Master Rayburn mended Dummy Rugg when he fell
from top to bottom of the steep slope leading down into the lead-mine,
getting thereby very much broken, the worst injury being a crack in his
skull. He "cobbled up," as he called it, a number of other injuries
which happened to the men by pieces of rock falling upon them, slips of
the steel picks, chops from axes, and cuts from scythes and
reaping-hooks, the misfortunes of the men who toiled in the woods and
fields.
If a regular physician or surgeon had come there, the people would have
laughed at him, so great was their faith in Master Rayburn, who did his
best for the people, and never asked for payment. In fact, his patients
never thought of offering it to him in money, but they were not
ungrateful, all the same. Indeed, he used to protest against the
numbers of presents he was always receiving, the women bringing him pats
of butter, little mugs of cream, and the best of their apples and
potatoes; and their husbands never killed a pig without taking something
to Master Rayburn for the kind actions which he had performed.
It fell out then, as quite a matter of course, that he went on treating
Ralph Darley for the little hole in his arm, beneath the shoulder joint,
and that he also dressed and bandaged Mark Eden's thigh, so that the
injuries went on healing rapidly.
It was known, too, at the Cliff Castle and the Black Tor that he was
treating both, but the Edens never mentioned the Darleys, nor the
Darleys the Edens, the amateur surgeon saying nothing at either place;
and the wounds got better day by day.
"I wish I could heal the old sore as easily," the old man said to
himself; "but that wants a bigger doctor than I."
Master Rayburn believed in the old saw, that a still tongue maketh a
wise head, and he waited.
But in the meantime Ralph had told his father everything about his
encounter, and waited afterwards to hear what his father said. In due
time he did say something, but it was not to the effect that Mark Eden
had behaved very gallantly in helping his son, and _vice versa_, that
his son had shown a fine spirit in forgetting family enmity, and
fighting against a common enemy. He only frowned, and said, "Humph!"
He said something more, though upon another occasion, when, in obedience
to Master Rayburn's orders, Ralph was keeping quiet at home, and sitting
in his father's room, reading, and thinking about Mark Eden,
determining, too, that he would ask Master Rayburn how the lad was the
next time he came, for though family pride and old teachings had kept
him quiet, he had hoped that his doctor would volunteer the information
which had not come.
Sir Morton was poring over an old tome which dealt with alchemy and the
transmutation of metals, in which the learned writer gravely gave his
opinion about baser metals being turned into gold, all of which Sir
Morton Darley thought would be very satisfactory, as he could not
succeed in finding a profitable lead-mine on his estate, and had not
been any more successful than his forefathers in taking possession of
that belonging to the Edens.
He had just come to the way of thinking that he would begin to buy
ordinary lead and turn it into gold, when Ralph said suddenly:
"I say, father, why do we want to be at enmity with the Edens?"
Sir Morton looked up at his son, and then down at his book, as if
expecting to find an answer to the question there. Then he coughed to
clear his voice, cleared it, and coughed again, which was perfectly
unnecessary. But still the answer did not come. Finally, he replied:
"Well, you see, my boy, we always have been at enmity with them."
"Yes, I know, ever since my great, great, ever so great, grandfather's
time."
"Exactly Ralph. That's it, my boy."
"But what was the beginning of it?"
"The beginning of it--er--the--er--commencement of it--er--the family
feud. Well--er--it was something in the way of oppression, as I have
told you before. A great injury inflicted by the Edens upon the
Darleys. But it will not do your arm any good to be fidgeting about
that. I want it to heal. That can be healed; but our family feud never
can."
"Why not, father?"
"Why not? Oh, because it is contrary to nature, boy. What a question,
when you are suffering now from the way in which the deadly hatred of
the Edens comes out! Are you not wounded by a scion of the vile house?"
"Yes, father; but then young Eden is suffering too in the same way, and
I think he got the worst of it."
"I'm glad of it, Ralph. I think you behaved very bravely."
"What; in fighting the robbers?"
"I did not mean that. I meant in defending yourself," said Sir Morton
austerely. "There, that will do: I want to go on studying this book."
But Ralph was fidgety from the state of his wound, and went on again.
"Couldn't the old trouble be settled by law?"
"Pooh, boy! As I have told you before, the law does not reach here
among these mountainous wilds. I am the law here. I could settle the
matter; but that man Eden would never agree to what I said."
"And I suppose, father, that you would never agree to what he considered
was the proper law."
"Certainly not, Ralph," said Sir Morton impatiently. "But why are you
going on like this?"
"Because I was thinking again how easy it would be if you and Sir Edward
Eden were to join and attack that Captain Purlrose and his men. You
would be able to drive the gang out of the neighbourhood."
"I shall be able to drive this fellow out of the district, my boy,
without the help of the Edens, who ought to be driven out too, for they
are very little better than Captain Purlrose and his men. Stop, sir;
what are you going to do?"
"Go out, father. It's so dull sitting here."
"You had better stay in: the sun is hot, and you have been rather
feverish. I want you to grow quite well."
"So do I, father," said the lad, smiling.
"Then do what Master Rayburn advised you. Keep perfectly quiet."
"But it is such weary work doing nothing, father. I'm sure I should get
better if I were out in the fresh air. Ah, there is Minnie;" for just
then his sister came to the open window, and looked in.
"Why don't you come out and sit in the shade here, Ralph?" she said.
"Come and read with me."
Ralph glanced at his father, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded, as
much as to say, "Well, be off;" and the lad went out into the
castle-yard, and then on to the little terrace where the new basin and
fountain were looking bright and attractive, though still wanting in the
fish Ralph was to have procured.
Brother and sister sat down in a shady nook, and watched the glint of
the river through the trees far below, looked over the lovely prospect
of hill and dale; and finally Minnie's eyes rested upon the shoulder of
the great shaley hill at whose foot the encounter with the disbanded
soldiers had taken place.
"When is father going to lead the men to drive out those dreadful
people?" said the girl at last.
"I don't know: soon, I hope. When I'm better."
"Well, you are better, Ralph."
"That's what I told father. Only a bit sore. I'm sick of being coddled
up."
"That's because you are a boy. You are never happy unless you are in
the open-air."
"You would not be, if you were a boy," said Ralph sharply.
"Well, I don't know that I am, even as a girl. It's dreadful. You
know, father has given orders that I am not to go outside the walls. No
walks, no rides; and my poor pony looked so reproachfully at me. Wants
to go out as badly as I do. Don't you think it's being too particular?"
"Well, no, Min," said Ralph thoughtfully. "While those men are about, I
don't think you ought to go out alone."
"Now, Ralph," said the girl, pouting, "you're as bad as father. I
declare you are not a bit like a nice, brave, merry boy now. You used
to be; but ever since you've been at that great school you have been
growing more and more serious, till you are getting to be quite an old
man."
"And quite grey," said Ralph drily.
"It only wants that," said the girl, with a merry laugh. "I declare
that old Master Rayburn has more fun in him than you."
"Wouldn't say so if you had been wounded, and had him to pull the
bandages about."
"What nonsense! he said I was to come and see him as soon as ever I
could."
"And you can't go and see him. He wouldn't advise you to go out while
those ruffians are yonder."
"No," replied the girl, smiling frankly. "He said I must wait till the
wasps' nest had been burned out, and I suppose he meant the cave where
those men are. Oh, I wish I were a man, and could go and fight the
wretches. They've been robbing and frightening people in all
directions. They even went last night and frightened old Mistress
Garth, Nick's mother, and took away her bag of meal."
"They did that!" cried Ralph angrily. "How do you know?"
"Nick told me, and he says he means to kill the captain first time they
meet."
"Nick says so?"
"Yes; but I suppose it's only boasting. I don't think he's very brave,
is he?"
"Don't know," said Ralph thoughtfully. "But it's quite time something
was done."
"And it was so funny, Ralph," continued the girl; "he actually said to
me that he didn't care a bit for his mother, for she has the worst
temper of any one he knows, and is always scolding when he goes to see
her; but he won't have any one interfere with her, and he'll kill that
captain for stealing the meal-bag as sure as he's alive."
"Well, it shows he's a good son," said Ralph quietly. "But you see that
it is not safe for you to go out."
"Yes," said Minnie with a sigh; "but it seems very silly. The other day
one was obliged to stop in because of the Edens; now it's because of
those men."
"I suppose it's as bad for the Edens as it is for us," replied Ralph,
who became now very thoughtful; and when, soon afterwards, Minnie looked
up to see why he did not speak, she found that his head was resting
against the stone, beside a crenelle, and that he was fast asleep.
"Poor boy!" she said softly, "he is weak yet, and soon worn-out. It was
very brave of him to fight as he did--with Mark Eden, I mean--against
the men who attacked them, and for both to be wounded. I wonder what
Mark Eden is like. Ralph has met him three times, he says, but he only
growls if I begin to ask him questions. What a pity it is, when we
might all be so friendly and nice. How stupid it does seem of people to
quarrel!"