Complete Works of Bram Stoker (35 page)

“Mr. Severn,” she said, in a voice which there was no gainsaying, “my father is here. It is for him to protect me here, if any protection is required from a thing like that!” The scorn of her voice made even Murdock wince, and seemed to cool both Joyce and myself, and also Dick, who now stood beside us.

Murdock looked from one to another of us for a moment in amazement, and then, with a savage scowl, as though he were looking who and where to strike with venom, he fixed on Norah  —  God forgive him!

“An’ so ye have him at home already, have ye! An’ yer father present, too, an’ a witness. It’s the sharp girrul ye are, Norah Joyce, but I suppose this wan is not the first.” I restrained myself simply because Norah’s hand was laid on my mouth. Murdock went on: “An’ so ye thought I wanted ye for yerself! Oh no! It’s no bankrup’s daughtherfor me; but I may as well tell ye why I wanted ye. It was because I’ve had in me hands, wan time or another, ivery inch ivthis mountain, bit be bit, all except the Cliff Fields; and thim I wanted for purposes iv me own  —  thim as knows why, has swore not to tell”  —  this with a scowl at Dick and me. “But I’ll have thim yit; an’ have thim, too, widout thinkin’ that me wife likes sthrollin’ there wid sthrange min!” Here I could restrain myself no longer; and to my joy on the instant  —  and since then whenever I have thought of it  — 

Norah withdrew her hand as if to set me free. I stepped forward, and with one blow fair in the lips knocked the foul- mouthed ruffian head over heels. He rose in an instant, his face covered with blood, and rushed at me. This time I stepped out, and with an old foot-ball trick, taking him on the breastbone with my open hand, again tumbled him over. He arose livid  —  but this time his passion was cold  —  and standing some yards off, said, while he wiped the blood from his face: “Wait; ye’ll be sorry yit ye shtruck that blow! Aye, ye’ll both be sorry  —  sad an’ sorry  —  an’ for shame that ye don’t reckon on. Wait!” I spoke out: “Wait! yes, I shall wait, but only till the time comes to punish you. And let me warn you to be careful how you speak of this lady. I have shown you already how I can deal with you personally; next time  —  if there be a next time  —  ” Here Murdock interrupted sotto voce: “There’ll be a next time; don’t fear! Be God, but there will!” I went on: “I shall not dirty my hands with you, but I shall have you in jail for slander.” “Jail me, is it?” he sneered. “We’ll see. An’ so ye think ye’re going to marry a lady, whin ye make an honest woman iv Norah Joyce, do ye? Luk at her! an’ it’s a lady ye’re goin’ to make iv her, is it? An’ thim hands iv hers, wid the marks iv the milkin’ an’ the shpade onto them. My! but they’ll luk well among the quality, won’t they?” I was going to strike him again, but Norah laid her hand on my arm; so, smothering myangeras well as I could, I said: “Don’t dare to speak ill of people whose shoes you are not worthy to black; and be quick about your finishing your work at Shleenanaher, for you’ve got to go when the time is up. I won’t have the place polluted by your presence a day longer than I can help.” Norah looked wonderingly at me and at him, for he had given a manifest start. I went on: “And as for these hands”  —  I took Norah’s hands in mine  —  ”perhaps the time may come when you will pray for the help of their honest strength  —  pray with all the energy of your dastard soul! But whether this may be or not, take you care how you cross her path or mine again, or you shall rue it to the last hour of your life. Come, Norah, it is not fit that you should contaminate your eyes or your ears with the presence of this wretch!” and I led her in. As we went I heard Joyce say: “An’ listen to me: niver you dare to put one foot across me mearin’ again, or I’ll take the law into me own hands!”

Then Dick spoke: “And hark you, Mr. Murdock: remember that you have to deal with me also in any evil that you attempt!” Murdock turned on him savagely: ‘“As for you, I dismiss ye from me imploymint. Ye’ll niver set foot on me land agin! Away wid ye!” “Hurrah!” shouted Dick. “Mr. Joyce, you’re my witness that he has discharged me, and I am free.” Then he stepped down from the porch, and said to Murdock, in as exasperating a way as he could: “And, dear Mr. Murdock, wouldn’t it be a pleasure to you to have it out with me here, now? Just a simple round or two, to see which is the best man? I am sure it would do you good  —  and me too. I can see you are simply spoiling for a fight. I promise you that there will be no legal consequences if you beat me, and if I beat you I shall take my chance. Do let me persuade you! Just one round;” and he began to take off his coat. Joyce, however, stopped him, speaking gravely: “No, Mr. Sutherland, not here; and let me warn ye, for ye’re a younger man nor me, agin such anger. I sthruck that man wance, an’ it’s sorry I am for that same! No; not that I’m afeered of him”  —  answering the query in Dick’s face  —  ”but because, for a full-grown man to sthrike in anger is a sarious thing. Arthur there sthruck not for himself, but for an affront to his wife that’s promised, an’ he’s not to be blamed.” Norah here took my arm and held it tight; “but I say, wid that one blow that I’ve sthruck since I was a lad on me mind, ‘Never sthrike a blow in anger all yer life long, unless it be to purtect one ye love.’” Dick turned to him, and said, heartily:

“You’re quite right, Mr. Joyce, and I’m afraid I acted like a cad. Here, you clear off! Your very presence seems to infect better men than yourself, and brings them something nearer to your level. Mr. Joyce, forgive me; I promise I’ll take your good lesson to heart.” They both came into the room; and Norah and I looking out of the window  —  my arm being around her  —  saw Murdock pass down the path and out at the gate.

We all took our places once again around the fire. When we sat down Norah instinctively put her hands behind her, as if to hide them  —  that ruffian’s words had stung her a little; and as I looked, without, however, pretending to take any notice, I ground my teeth. But with Norah such an ignoble thought could be but a passing one. With a quick blush she laid her hand open on my knee, so that, as the fire-light fell on it, it was shown in all its sterling beauty. I thought the opportunity was a fairone, and I lifted it to my lips and said:

“Norah, Ithink I maysaya word before yourfatherand myfriend. This hand  —  this beautiful hand,” and I kissed it again, “is dearer to me a thousand times, because it can do, and has done, honest work; and I only hope that in all my life I may be worthy of it.” I was about to kiss it yet again, but Norah drew it gently away. Then she shifted her stool a little, and came closer to me. Her father saw the movement, and said simply: “Go to him, daughter. He is worth it  —  he sthruck a good blow for ye this night.” And so we changed places, and she leaned her head against my knee; her other hand  —  the one not held in mine  —  rested on her father’s knee.

There we sat and smoked, and talked for an hour or more. Then Dick looked at me and I at him, and we rose. Norah looked at me lovingly as we got our hats. Her father saw the look, and said: “Come, daughter; if you’re not tired, suppose we see them down the boreen.” A bright smile and a blush came in her face; she threw a shawl over her head, and we went all together. She held her father’s arm and mine; but by-and-by the lane narrowed, and her father went in front with Dick, and we two followed.

Was it to be wondered at, if we did lag a little behind them, and if we spoke in whispers? Or, if now and again, when the lane curved and kindly bushes projecting threw dark shadows, our lips met? When we came to the open space before the gate we found Andy. He pretended to see only Dick and Joyce, and saluted them.

“Begor, but it’s the fine night, it is, Misther Dick, though more betoken the rain is comin’ on agin soon. A fine night, Misther Joyce; and how’s Miss Norah?  —  God bless her! Musha! but it’s sorry I am that she didn’t walk down wid ye this fine night! An’ poor MastherArt  —  I suppose the fairies has got him agin?” Here he pretended to just catch sight of me. “Yer’an’r, but it’s the sorraful man I was; shure, an’ I thought ye was tuk aff be the fairies  —  or, mayhap, it was houldin’ a leprachaun that ye wor. An’ my! but there’s Miss Norah, too, comin’ to take care iv her father! God bless ye, Miss Norah, acushla, but it’s glad I am to see ye!” “And I’m always glad to see you, Andy,” she said, and shook hands with him. Andy took her aside, and said, in a staccato whisper intended for us all: “Musha! Miss Norah, dear, may I ax ye somethin’?”

“Indeed you may, Andy. What is it?”

“Well, now, it’s throubled in me mind lam about Masther Art  —  that young gintleman beyantye, talkin’t’ yerfather;” the hypocritical villain pointed me out, as though she did not know me. I could see in the moonlight the happy smile on her face as she turned towards me.

“Yes; I see him,” she answered. “Well, Miss Norah, the fairies got him on the top iv Knocknacar, and ivir since he’s been wandherin’ round lukin’fur wan iv thim. I thried to timpt him away be tellin’ him iv nice girruls iv these parts  —  real girruls, not fairies. But he’s that obstinate he wouldn’t luk at wan iv thim  —  no, nor listen to me, ayther.”

“Indeed!” she said, her eyes dancing with fun.

“An’, Miss Norah, dear, what kind iva girrul d’ye think he wanted to find?”

“I don’t know, Andy. What kind?”

“Oh, begor! but it’s meself can tell ye! Shure, it’s a long, yalla, dark girrul, shtreaky  —  like  —  like he knows what  —  not quite a faymale nagur, wid a rid petticoat, an’ a quare kind ivaneye!”

“Oh, Andy!” was all she said, as she turned to me smiling.

“Get along, you villain!” said I, and I shook my fist at him in fun; and then I took Norah aside, and told her what the “quare kind iv an eye” was that I had sought  —  and found.

Then we two said “Good-night” in peace, while the others in front went through the gate. We took  —  afterwards  —  a formal and perfectly decorous farewell, only shaking hands all round, before Dick and I mounted the car. Andy started off at a gallop, and his “Git up, ye ould corn-crake!” was lost in our shouts of “Goodbye!” as we waved our hats. Looking back, we saw Norah’s hands waving as she stood with her father’s arm around her, and her head laid back against his shoulder, while the yellow moonlight bathed them from head to foot in a sea of celestial light. And then we sped on through the moonlight and the darkness alike, forthe clouds of the coming rain rolled thick and fast across the sky.

But for me the air was all aglow with rosy light, and the car was a chariot flying swiftly to the dawn!

CHAPTER XIV

 
The next day was Sunday; and after church I came over early to Knockcalltecrore, and had a long talk with Norah about her school project. We decided that the sooner she began the better  —  she because, as she at first alleged, every month of delay made school a less suitable place for her  —  I because, as I took care not only to allege but to reiterate, as the period had to be put in, the sooner it was begun the sooner it would end, and so the sooner would my happiness come. Norah was very sweet, and shyly told me that if such was my decided opinion, she must say that she too had something of the same view. “I do not want you to be pained, dear, by any delay,” she said, “made by your having been so good to me; and I love you too well to want myself to wait longer than is necessary;” an admission that was an intoxicating pleasure to me.

We agreed that our engagement was, if not to be kept a secret, at least not to be spoken of unnecessarily. Her father was to tell her immediate relatives, so that there would not be any gossip at herabsence, and I was to tell one or two of my own connections  —  for I had no immediate relatives  —  and perhaps one or two friends who were rather more closely connected with me than those of my own blood. I asked to be allowed to tell also my solicitor, who was an old friend of my father’s, and who had always had more than merely professional relations with me. I had reasons of my own for telling him of the purposed change in my life, for I had important matters to execute through him, so as to protect Norah’s future in case my own death should occur before the marriage was to take place. But of this, of course, I did not tell her.

We had a happy morning together, and when Joyce came in we told him of the conclusion we had arrived at. He fully acquiesced; and then, when he and I were alone, I asked him if he would prefer to make the arrangements about the schools himself or by some solicitor he would name, or that should all be done by my solicitor. He told me that my London solicitor would probably know what to do better than anyone in his own part of the world; and we agreed that I was to arrange it with him.

Accordingly I settled with Norah that the next day but one I should leave for London, and that when I had put everything on a satisfactory footing I should return to Carnaclif, and so be for a little longer able to see my darling. Then I went back to the hotel to write my letters in time for the post. That afternoon I wrote to my solicitor, Mr. Chapman, and asked him to have inquiries made, without the least delay, as to what was the best school in Paris to which to send a young lady, almost grown up, but whose education had been neglected. I added that I should be myself in London within two days of my letter, and would hope to have the information.

That evening I had a long talk on affairs with Dick, and opened to him a project I had formed regarding Knockcalltecrore. This was that I should try to buy the whole of the mountain, right away from where the sandy peninsula united it to the main-land, for evidently it had ages ago been an isolated sea-girt rock-bound island. Dick knew that already we held a large part of it  —  Norah the Cliff Fields, Joyce the upper land on the sea side, and myself the part that I had already bought from Murdock. He quite fell in with the idea, and as we talked it over he grew more and more enthusiastic.

“Why, my dear fellow,” he said, as he stood up and walked about the room, “it will make the most lovely residence in the world, and will be a fine investment for you. Holding long leases, you will easily be able to buy the freehold, and then every penny spent will return manifold. Let us once be able to find the springs that feed the bog, and get them in hand, and we can make the place a paradise. The springs are evidently high up on the Hill, so that we can not only get water for irrigating and ornamental purposes, but we can get power also! Why, you can have electric light, and everything else you like, at the smallest cost. And if it be, as I suspect, that there is a streak of limestone in the Hill, the place might be a positive mine of wealth as well! We have not lime within fifty miles, and if once we can quarry the stone here we can do anything. We can build a harbor on the south side, which would be the loveliest place to keep a yacht in that ever was known  —  quite big enough for anything in these parts  —  as safe as Portsmouth, and of fathomless depth.” “Easy, old man!” I cried, for the idea made me excited too.