CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
HOW MARK'S SISTER LOST HER WHIP.
Fate seemed to be determined that the young people of the rival familiesshould become intimate, in spite of all the stringent rules laid down bythe heads; for Ralph was out one day, making a round, when it occurredto him that he would call upon Master Rayburn, to let him see how wellthe wound was healing up, and to say a few words of thanks to the oldman for his kindness and attention.
He found the object of his visit seated in a kind of grotto, shaded by agreat sycamore, with his doublet off, hat on the floor, and beautifullywhite sleeves rolled up, busily at work, tying up some peculiar littlecombinations of wool, hair, and feathers, to the back of a hook; and asthe lad approached, he held up the curious object by the piece ofhorsehair to which it was tied.
"Well, patient," he said, "what do you think of that?"
"Nothing at all," cried the lad. "No fish would ever take that. Whatdo you call it?"
"A bumble-bee, and the fish will take it, Mr Cleversides; but not ifthey see a big lubberly boy staring at them with his arm in a sling, oran old grey-headed man, either, Ralph. There, don't frown. It's verynice to be a big lubberly boy; much better than being a worn-out oldman, with not much longer to live. Ah, you laugh at my bumble-bee, andit certainly is not like one, but the best I can do, and I find it agreat bait for a chevin, if used with guile. Take these two, Ralph,boy, and early some sunny morning go down behind the trees, where theyoverhang the stream, and don't show so much as your nose, let alone yourshadow, for it would send them flying. Then gently throw your fly."
[Note: a chevin is a chub.]
"How can you," said Ralph quickly, "with the boughs overhanging thewater?"
"Good, lad! what I expected you to say; but there is where the guilecomes in. I don't want you to throw your fly into the water, but to letit drop on the leaves just above it, a few inches or a foot, and thenshake the line tenderly, till the bee softly rolls off, and dropsnaturally from a leaf, hardly making a splash. Then you'll find thatthere will be a dimple on the water, the smacking of two lips, and thechevin will have taken the bait. Then it is your fault if it is notlaid in your creel."
"Thank you, Master Rayburn; I'll try. I haven't had a fish since I waswounded."
"No: it would have been bad work if you had gone whipping about, andirritating the two little holes in your arm. Well, how is it?"
"Oh, quite well now," said the lad, as he carefully hooked the bees inhis cap, and twisted the hair to which they were attached under theband; "and I've come to say how thankful I am for all you have done forme, and--"
"That's enough, my dear boy," cried the old man warmly; "look the rest.And now about those wild men of the mountains; have you heard how theyare going on?"
"A little; not much."
"Ah, you don't know, or you would not talk about a little. Why, Ralph,boy, the country round is full of complaints of their doings. About adozen great idle scoundrels are living up at Ergles in that cave, layingthe people for miles round under contribution; picking the fat of theland, and committing outrage after outrage. Only during the past week,I've had to bind up two broken heads, and strap up a broken shoulder,where the poor fellows had made a brave fight for it--one man againstseven or eight."
"You don't mean that!" cried Ralph flushing.
"But I do, boy. They are growing worse and worse, and making themselvesa scourge to the country."
"I did not know it was so bad."
"No, I suppose not, sir; and here are you people living safely in yourcastles, with plenty of stout men about you, ready to arm and defend youbehind your walls and gates. But if the scoundrels came and robbed you,perhaps you would do something. Don't you think you ought to begin?"
"Yes, that I do," cried Ralph quickly. "My father has been talkingabout it for some time."
"Yes; and so has Sir Edward Eden been talking about it for some time;but neither of them does anything, and the wasps' nest thrives; all thebest things in the country are carried up there--the wasps robbing thebees; and I, though I am a man of peace, say that it is the duty of yougentlemen to burn that wasps' nest out before anything worse is done,for the ruffians grow more bold and daring every day, feeling, Isuppose, that they can do these things with impunity."
"Father shall do something at once," cried the lad.
"That's right," cried the old man, patting his late patient on theshoulder. "I don't want blood shed, and I hardly think any of yourpeople would come to much harm, for, like most scoundrels of their kind,I believe the enemy would prove miserable cowards."
"They have proved to be so," cried Ralph warmly. "Father must act now."
"I'll tell you what he ought to do, boy," said the old man, grasping hisvisitor by the arm. "Of course he need not make friends, but he oughtto go or send to the Black Tor, and ask Sir Edward to head so many men,your father doing the same; and then they could march together, and routout the scoundrels."
"Yes, it would be easy enough then," said Ralph sadly; "but I know myfather too well: he would not do that."
"No," said the old man, "he would not do that."
The tone in which this was said roused the lad's indignation.
"Well," he said hotly, "do you think this Sir Edward Eden would come andask my father to join him?"
"No, boy, I do not," replied the old man, "for I said something of thiskind to Mark Eden only yesterday, when I was fishing up that way, and hespoke just in the same way as you do."
"You saw him yesterday?" said Ralph eagerly. "How is he?"
"What's that to do with you?" said the old man rather roughly. "Youdon't want to know how your enemy is. But all the same, his leg isnearly well. He limps a little: that is all. Going?"
"Yes," said Ralph hurriedly; "I must be off now. I am going on about amile, and coming back this way. Perhaps I shall see you then."
"Going about a mile? Not going to see old Mother Garth?"
"Yes: to take her a present from my sister. Nick told her about hismother being robbed."
"And your sister wants to make it up to her. Poor old woman! she is ingreat trouble, but she will not hear of leaving her cottage up there onthe moor; and she says that next time the men come to rob her, they'llfind she has two pots of boiling water ready for them."
Ralph laughed, and went off, crossed the river at the shallows, andclimbed the ascent to where the old woman lived in her rough stone cot,in its patch of garden; and as soon as he had given his present, with anaddition from his own purse, and the fierce old lady had secured it inher pocket, she turned upon him angrily, upbraiding him and his forallowing such outrages to be committed.
"But there," she cried, when quite out of breath, "it's of no use tospeak: there are no men now, and no boys. When I was young, they'd haverouted out those wretches and hung them before they knew where theywere. But only let them come here again, and they shall know whatboiling water is."
"They'll be well punished before long," said Ralph, as soon as he couldget in a word.
"I don't believe it," cried the old woman. "Don't tell me! I want toknow what my boy, Nick, is about for not making his master do something.It's shameful. But I see how it is: I shall have to go and do itmyself."
Ralph was not sorry to get away from the ungracious old dame, who stoodat her door, shouting messages to his father about his duty and herintentions, till the lad was out of sight, when he could not help seeingthe comic side of the matter, and wondered, laughingly, what his fatherwould say to her if she kept her word, and came up to the castle to askhim why he and her son, Nick, did not go and punish those wicked men forcoming and stealing her bag of meal.
"I should like to be there," said Ralph, half-aloud, as he tramped on:and then his thoughts took a serious turn again, and he began to ponderupon the possibilities of his father and their men attacking CaptainPurlrose, and the chances of success.
"It ought to be done," thought Ralph, as he began to climb the pathleading to the sh
elf upon which Master Rayburn's cottage was built,half-a-mile farther on, "so as to take them by surprise when part of themen are away. It can hardly be called cowardly with men like them.Then we could hide in the cavern, and wait till the rest came back, andtake them prisoners too. What's that?"
He listened, and made out the sound of a horse galloping, wondering thewhile who it could be. Then his interest increased, for the track wasnarrow and stony, and ran along like a shelf beside the cliff, with asteep descent to the river--altogether about as dangerous a place for acanter as any one could choose. But he recalled immediately howsure-footed the ponies of the district were, and thought no more of itfor a few moments. Then his face flushed as he remembered how Mark Edenhad galloped after him. Would it be he, and if so, now they were goingto meet again, would it be upon inimical terms, and with drawn swords?
His heart began to beat faster, and the next minute it was beatingfaster still, for he caught sight, at a curve of the track, of the ponyand its burden, not Mark Eden, but a lady; and then his heart seemed tostand still in his horror at seeing that she had lost control of thespirited little animal, which was tearing along as hard as he could go.
The next minute it was nearly abreast of Ralph, who, without thinking ofthe consequences of such an act, leaped at the rein, caught it, and wasdragged along some twenty yards, before, snorting and trembling, thelittle animal, which he knew as Mark Eden's, stopped short, and began torear.
"Quick!" shouted the lad. "I can't hold him: try and slip off."
His words were heard by the frightened rider, but there was little needto tell her to slip off, for the pony reared again, nearly upright, therider glided from the saddle over the animal's haunches, and fellamongst the bushes by the track, while Ralph was dragged onward again.
It all occurred in a few moments, the pony stopped, reared again, madeanother bound, dropped off the track, and, as Ralph loosed his hold,rolled over and over down the steep slope right into the river with atremendous splash, which cooled it on the instant; and it regained itsfeet, scrambled actively ashore, gave itself a shake, and then began tograze, as if nothing was the matter.
"Mark Eden's sister," thought Ralph, as he hurriedly climbed back to thetrack, where, looking wild and scared, Mary Eden had just regained herfeet, and was standing trembling.
"Are you hurt?" he cried aloud.
"Yes, dreadfully. No: I don't think so. Only scratched," she replied,half-crying. "I couldn't stop him. He hasn't been out lately. He ranaway with me. What shall I do?" she sobbed now. "Mark will be soangry. Is his pony much hurt?"
"Oh, never mind the pony," cried Ralph, taking her hand. "Here, let mehelp you to Master Rayburn's."
"But I do mind about the pony," cried the girl angrily. "It doesn'tmatter about me. Do you think he has broken his knees, or his legs?"
"It does not seem like it," said Ralph, smiling. "Look, he is browsingon the thick grass down there."
"Is--is my face much scratched?"
"Hardly at all," said Ralph.
"Then thank you so for stopping him; I was so frightened. Ah, look!there's Master Rayburn."
She clapped her hands with delight, as she caught sight of the old man,hatless, and with his white hair flying, running down the path. Thenturning, back to Ralph, she said, naively:
"Please, who are you? Oh, I know now. I haven't seen you for twoyears, and--"
She shrank away from him in a peculiarly cold and distant manner, and atthat moment Master Rayburn panted up.
"Much hurt, my dear?" he cried excitedly, as he caught the girl in hisarms.
"No, no, I think not," she said, beginning to sob anew.
"Thank God! thank God!" cried the old man fervently.--"Hah! My heartwas in my mouth. Why can't people be content to walk? Come back homewith me, my child. Here, Ralph Darley, how was it? Did you stop thebrute?"
"I tried to," said the lad quietly, "but I couldn't hold him long."
"Long enough to save her, my lad," cried the old man, looking from oneto the other in a peculiar way.--"How strange--how strange!" hemuttered.
Then aloud, in an abrupt way:
"There, never mind the pony. You be off home, sir. I'll take care ofthis lady."
Ralph coloured a little, and glanced at the girl, and as she met hiseyes, she drew herself up stiffly.
"Yes, sir," she said, "Master Rayburn will take care of me. Thank youfor stopping my pony."
She bowed now, in the stately way of the period, clung closely to theold man, turning her back upon her rescuer, who unnecessarily bowed, andwalked on up the steep path, wondering that the pony had not come downheadlong before.
Then he felt disposed to look back, but his angry indignation forbadethat, and he hurried on as fast as he could on his way home, passingMaster Rayburn's cottage, and then, a hundred yards farther on, comingsuddenly upon a riding-whip, which had evidently been dropped. The ladleaped at it to pick it up, but checked himself, and gave it a kickwhich sent it off the path down the slope toward the river.
"I'm not going to pick up an Eden's whip," he said proudly. "Just likeher brother," he muttered, as he went on faster and faster, to avoid thetemptation of running back to pick it up. "They are a proud, evilrace," as father said. "What did I want to interfere for, and stop thepony? It was looked upon as an insult, I suppose. I don't like theEdens, and I never shall."
Ralph's adventures for that day were not ended. A quarter of a milefarther on he heard footsteps in front. Some one was running, and at aturn of the track a lad came into sight, whom he recognised as DummyRugg, one of the mine lads. The pair came closer quickly, and Ralph sawthat he was recognised, and that the boy was scowling at him, passinghim with rather an evil look, but stopping the next minute, and runningback after him. As soon as he heard the steps returning, Ralph facedround, his left hand seeking the sheath of his sword, to bring it roundin case he should want to draw. But the next minute he saw that the ladhad no evil intent.
"Look here," cried Dummy, "did you see a young lady on a pony?"
"Yes."
"Was it going fast?"
"As fast as it could go," said Ralph haughtily.
"Not running away wi' her?"
"Yes," said Ralph, rather enjoying the boy's anxiety, in his ruffledstate.
"I knowed it would: I knowed it would!" cried the boy wildly; "and shewould have it out. Here! gone right on?"
"Yes."
"Ah! And you never tried to stop it. Oh, wait till I see you again!"
Ralph did not feel in the humour to stop and explain to one who hadthreatened him so offensively, and he would have felt less so still ifhe had known that Dummy Rugg had followed him that night through thedark woods, till he met his father.
"Let him find out for himself," he muttered. "I have nothing to do withthe Edens, and we can none of us ever be friends."