Did ever the worthy London merchant, in the course of his life, approach
to the verge of the region of despair, it was on that eventful night
when he found himself and his family lost among the mountains of
Scotland.
"It's dreadful," said he, sitting down on a cold grey rock, and
beginning slowly to realise the utter hopelessness of their condition.
"My poor Lucy, don't be cast down," (drawing her to his breast), "after
all, it will only be a night of wandering. But we _must_ keep moving.
We must not venture to lie down in our wet clothes. We must not even
rest long at a time, lest a chill should come upon you."
"But I'm quite warm, papa, and only a very little tired. I could walk
for miles yet." She said this cheerily, but she could not help looking
anxious. The night was so dark, however, that no one could see her
looks.
"Do let me go off alone, father," urged George; "I am as fresh as
possible, and could run over the hills until I should fall in with--"
"Don't mention it, George; I feel that our only hope is to keep
together. Poor Peter! what will become of that boy?"
Mr Sudberry became almost, desperate as he thought of the small clerk.
He started up. "Come, we must keep moving. You are not cold, dear? are
you _sure_ you are not cold?"
"Quite sure, papa; why are you so anxious?"
"Because I have a flask of brandy, which I mean to delay using until we
break down and cannot get on without it. Whenever you begin to get
chilled I must give you brandy. Not till then, however; spirits are
hurtful when there is hard toil before you, but when you break down
there is no resource left. Rest, food, sleep, would be better; but
these we have no chance of getting to-night. Poor Jacky! does he keep
warm, George?"
"No fear of him," cried George, with forced gaiety. "He's all right."
Jack had broken down completely soon after nightfall. Vigorously,
manfully had he struggled to keep up; but when his usual hour for going
to bed arrived, nature refused to sustain him. He sank to the ground,
and then George wrapped him up in his shooting-coat, in which he now
lay, sound asleep, like a dirty brown bundle, on his brother's
shoulders.
"I'll tell you what," said Fred, after they had walked, or rather
stumbled, on for some time in silence. "Suppose you all wait here for
ten minutes while I run like a greyhound to the nearest height and see
if anything is to be seen. Mamma must have alarmed the whole
neighbourhood by this time; and if they are looking for us, they will be
sure to have lanterns or torches."
"A good idea, my boy. Go, and pause every few minutes to shout, so that
we may not lose you. Keep shouting, Fred, and we will wait here and
reply."
Fred was off in a moment, and before he had got fifty yards away was
floundering knee-deep in a peat-bog. So much for reckless haste,
thought he, as he got out of the bog and ran forward with much more
caution. Soon those waiting below heard his clear voice far up the
heights. A few minutes more, and it rang forth again more faintly. Mr
Sudberry remarked that it sounded as if it came from the clouds: he put
his hands to his mouth sailor fashion, and replied. Then they listened
intently for the next shout. How still it was while they sat there!
What a grand, gloomy solitude! They could hear no sound but the beating
of their own hearts. Solemn thoughts of the Creator of these mighty
hills crept into their minds as they gazed around and endeavoured to
pierce the thick darkness. But this was impossible. It was one of
those nights in which the darkness was so profound that no object could
be seen even indistinctly at the distance of ten yards. Each could see
the other's form like a black marble statue, but no feature could be
traced. The mountain peaks and ridges could indeed be seen against the
dark sky, like somewhat deeper shadows; but the crags and corries, the
scattered rocks and heathery knolls, the peat-bogs and the tarns of the
wild scene which these circling peaks enclosed--all were steeped in
impenetrable gloom. There seemed something terrible, almost unnatural,
in this union of thick darkness with profound silence. Mr Sudberry was
startled by the sound of his own voice when he again spoke.
"The boy must have gone too far. I cannot hear--"
"Hush!"
"Hi!" in the far distance, like a faint echo. They all breathed more
freely, and Mr Sudberry uttered a powerful response. Presently the
shout came nearer--nearer still; and soon Fred rejoined them, with the
disheartening information that he had gained the summit of the ridge,
and could see nothing whatever!
"Well, my children," said Mr Sudberry, with an assumption of
cheerfulness which he was far from feeling, "nothing now remains but to
push straight forward as fast as we can. We _must_ come to a road of
some sort in the long-run, which will conduct to somewhere or other, no
doubt. Come, cheer up; forward! Follow close behind me, Lucy. George,
do you take the lead--you are the most active and sharp-sighted among
us; and mind the bogs."
"What if we walk right over a precipice!" thought Fred. He had almost
said it, but checked himself for fear of alarming the rest
unnecessarily. Instead of cautioning George, he quietly glided to the
front, and took the lead.
Slowly, wearily, and painfully they plodded on, stumbling at times over
a rugged and stone-covered surface, sometimes descending a broken slope
that grew more and more precipitous until it became dangerous, and then,
fearing to go farther--not knowing what lay before--they had to retrace
their steps and search for a more gradual descent. Now crossing a level
patch that raised their hopes, inclining them to believe that they had
reached the bottom of the valley; anon coming suddenly upon a steep
ascent that dashed their hopes, and induced them to suppose they had
turned in the wrong direction, and were re-ascending instead of
descending the mountain. All the time Jacky slept like a top, and
George, being a sturdy fellow, carried him without a murmur. Several
times Fred tried to make him give up his burden, but George was
inexorably obstinate. So they plodded on till nearly midnight.
"Is that a house?" said Fred, stopping short, and pointing to a dark
object just in front of them. "No, it's a lake."
"Nonsense, it's a mountain."
A few more steps, and Fred recoiled with a cry of horror. It was a
precipice full a hundred feet deep--the dark abyss of which had assumed
such varied aspects in their eyes!
A long _detour_ followed, and they reached the foot in safety. Here the
land became boggy.
Each step was an act fraught with danger, anxiety, and calculation.
Whether they should step knee-deep into a hole full of water, or trip
over a rounded mass of solid turf, was a matter of absolute uncertainty
until the step was taken.
"Oh that we had only a gleam of moonshine," said Lucy with a sigh.
Moonshine! How often had George in the course of his life talked with
levity, almost amounting to contempt, of things being "all a matter of
moonshine!" What would he not have given to have had only a tithe of
the things which surrounded him at that time converted into "moonshine!"