mr. peter norcot dwelt in one of the comfortable border farmhouses that lie among the foothills of dartmoor near chagford. it was an old elizabethan domicile, and with it the wool-stapler owned a hundred acres of forest and three farms. his property adjoined the estates of the manor of godleigh; but he was not upon genial terms with the lord of the manor, one sir simon yeoland. the knight had old-fashioned ideas on the subject of trade and looked down upon peter; while mr. norcot for his part, held his neighbour a mere machine for slaughter of game and oppression of the common people—a bundle of hereditary and predatory instincts handed down from the dark ages.
there came a night in early spring when peter sat beside his parlour fire, sipped his grog and read his shakespeare. gertrude norcot, a faded but still handsome woman of five-and-thirty, kept him company until the clock chimed ten; then she stopped her work, kissed her brother on the temple and retired.
mr. norcot sat on until midnight; after which he put up a guard before the dying fire and was just about to go to bed when the flame burst out anew and he delayed and spread his hands to warm them. his thoughts were busy of late, for he matured the next attempt to win grace malherb. still there was but one woman in the world for him, and his purpose towards her remained unshaken. but the task grew difficult indeed, for now maurice malherb was to be counted upon the side of his daughter.
alone, without need of any mask, peter's countenance lacked that geniality usually associated with it. to-night, in the flickering fire-gleam, he looked as though his face was carved out of yellow ivory. it revealed stern lines such as shall be seen in the facial severity of the red man.
now, upon his grim and midnight cogitations, there fell suddenly a sound. the noise of tapping reached him from the window; but supposing it to be but an ivy spray escaped from the mullion and blown against the casement by nightly winds, he paid no heed. then the sound increased and became sharper; so norcot knew that some wanderer stood outside and summoned him. without hesitation he threw open the shutter, pulled up the blind and looked out, to see a man with his face close against the glass. an aged but virile countenance with brilliant eyes peered in. the man beckoned, and peter nodded and prepared to unfasten the window. the face was not unfamiliar to him, and he puzzled to recollect the person of his visitor, but failed to do so.
"'by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes,'" said mr. norcot to himself as the stranger entered.
"give 'e good even. i'll speak with you if you'm alone," he began, and immediately approached the light.
"i know your face; yet i know it not. who are you?" asked peter.
the wanderer uttered a sound that might have indicated amusement.
"i've had a long journey and feared every moment to find my feet in a man-trap."
"that you need not have done upon my land. the gorge of humanity rises at such damnable contrivances. the ruffian yeoland, lord of the manor, has both traps and spring-guns in his coverts—he showed them to me himself, cold-blooded devil. yes, he exhibited them with such pride as a mother might display her first-born! engines of hell! but they answer their purpose; he does not lose a bird now."
"since when was you so merciful? your words is soft—your eyes give 'em the lie."
then norcot, recognising his visitor, leapt from his seat and stared with real amazement. for once he was startled into an oath.
"good god, it's lovey lee!"
the miser grinned.
"you was a long time finding out. ess fay—poor old lovey, still in the land of the living."
"but your bones were found and buried! there was a most dramatic scene, i hear. malherb—he cried out before them all in the churchyard at widecombe that he had slain you, that your blood was upon his head. it's eating his heart out, they say."
"let it eat with poisoned teeth. no fault of his that i didn't die. an' i've cussed heaven for two months because the law haven't taken the man an' hanged him, as i meant it to. but yet hanging's an easier death than what he's dying."
"alive!" said norcot. "alive—very much alive. and turned into a man. 'doubtless a staunch and solid piece of framework, as any january could freeze together!' and where learnt you the trick of rising from the dead? what devil taught you that, you 'ceaseless labourer in the work of shame'?"
"if you've only got hard words——"
"nay, nay; i love you; you are the queen of the moor!"
"he left me for dead, and lord knows how long i was dead. he struck me down at dawn, and when i comed to my senses, the moon was setting. i got back to my secret place somehow, and found 'twas empty. so i seed that the devil had helped him to find his darter. well for her he did!"
norcot nodded.
"not a doubt of it," he said.
"be you still of a mind about the wench?"
he did not answer, but prepared to pour some spirits into a glass for the old woman. lovey, however, refused them.
"be you still of a mind? that's my question."
"maurice malherb has changed his views. your death has done wonders and quite broke him. an ignoble type of man
"'we call a nettle but a nettle
and the faults of fools but folly.'
so shakespeare dismisses malherb. now tell me about yourself; then i'll answer your question."
"soon told. after i seed my den was found out, bad as i was, with my skull near split and scarce able to crawl, i dragged my goods away an' carried 'em—every stick—two mile off. for i knowed they'd come next day an' tear the place down an' pull all abroad, like a boy pulls out a bird's nest. i reckoned the bloodhounds was arter me, too, and might finish me any minute; but nought happened and i got clear off. then 'twas that two nights after, seeking for another hiding-place where i could be safe, i comed across a corpse. never was a stranger sight seen. a man wi' only one hand an' his throat cut from ear to ear. his eyes glared through the dim fog of death upon 'em, an' the foxes had found him. i be wearing his clothes now. they'm very comfortable, an' 'tis a wonder i never took to man's garments afore, for they'm always to be had where there's scarecrows. i needn't tell 'e the rest, for you've guessed it by your grinning. i seed how 'twould fall out, an' so it did. my white rags of hair i cut off an' left beside his bald poll, an' my clothes i put about his clay. his knife i took, an' what's more, i got two hundred and eight pound by him, for there was gold pieces covered with his blood all round him. more there might have been, but the cursed greedy bogs had swallowed 'em, though i raked elbow deep for 'em. then i smashed in the man's head an' left winter an' the crows an' wild beasts to do the rest. my locks be growing again now."
she took off her close cap of rabbit's skin and revealed a tangle of snow-white hair with evident satisfaction.
"what next?" asked peter.
"that be all. i'm hid very snug just now, right up where the river springs nigh the grey wethers on sittaford tor. not a bee gathers honey there; not a beast grazes that way. an' jack lee be along wi' me; for us met by chance nigh holne wood in the night, both hunting for food. 'twas three days after he slipped the sojers."
"a scurvy trick he served me. i'd got her promise to marry me if i saved him."
"well, i'll sell him to 'e if you wants to pay him out."
"a grand-dam to be proud of! and now, my old treasure, what do you come to me for?"
"first i want you to change my money into paper an' buy my snuff-boxes an' watches an' bits of plate. i be going to france."
"going to leave us! you mustn't. we couldn't get on without you. damme, i'm in love with you myself. there's something about those clothes——"
"be you in love with that girl still? that's the question. if so, us may do each other a service."
"yes, she marries me sooner or later. i never change. the good wife of bath's motto is my own:
"'i followeth aye mine inclination
by vertue of my constellation."
my star is steadfastness—the fixed pole is not more stable. i'm going to marry grace malherb."
"you'll ne'er get her by fair means."
"in love all is fair. 'tis strange, but your gaunt presence actually shattered thoughts of her. things have now come to a crisis and i must use the remarkable brains that heaven has given me. 'nor do men light a candle and put it under a bushel.' i've tried to marry her and failed utterly to do so upon simple and conventional lines. now i must be serious with myself. 'the destinies find the way,' if we only let them have their heads."
he toyed with his watch-guard. the seals were fastened to a piece of black silk.
"she wore that once about her waist," he said.
"give me but what this ribband bound;
take all the rest the sun goes round.'"
"i can help you."
"it's so difficult to realise that you are alive. the countryside has quite settled it. all men believe you to be in another world. malherb's announcement was taken with wonderful self-control. i don't want to hurt your delicate feelings, lovey, but not a soul went into mourning. in fact, only one man in all devon felt your taking off, and that was maurice malherb."
"you laugh at me. well, here's a thing to make you laugh again. i'll tell you how to get her without any more trouble."
"i had thought perhaps to approach the parent birds once more. but what's the use? her mother counts for nought. her father has got his head full of his own miseries. 'doubtful ills plague us worst,' as seneca so justly observes. while he hesitated as to whether you were really extinct, he must have gone through hot fires. now he knows the worst and waits to suffer for it; but, what's interesting, not a soul moves against him."
"that's where my plan comes in then. you lay a charge of murder on him, an' the maid will marry you to shut your mouth."
"worthy of you, but foreign to my genius. besides, though i blush to say it, everybody sympathises with him. it is always very painful to hear the estimate of our fellow-creatures upon us; but people who die and come to life again must expect to learn some particularly painful facts. there's an eastern proverb apposite to that, 'nobody knows how good we are except ourselves'! no; for my part, since have this girl i must and will, i'm inclined now to take her by main force—to do something feudal and old-fashioned. until she comes under my roof and finds all that she is losing, she will never get sense. and then—stolen fruit! consider the charm of it to an epicure like myself."
"i'll do anything woman can do for money," answered mrs. lee. "my grandson an' me bide in a ruined shepherd's cot beyond sittaford. us have made it watertight; but 'tis plaguey cold, an' i'm sick of it. change my money an' add a bit to it, an' i'll help 'e with that girl afore i go to france. i always knowed 'twould be my lot to help you."
"we ought to use your nephew. she would trust him."
"ess, she do. if you want her here, jack lee's the properest tool to use. i can fox him with a word an' make him help us without knowing what he's doing."
"of course—of course. i'll not insult you by planning details. the thing is obvious."
"only one man knows where we be hidden, an' that's leaman cloberry. he'll help 'e. he hates malherb, 'cause he dusted rat-catcher's mangy jacket for him long ago. 'tis cloberry keeps us in food; an' a cruel lot of money he makes us pay for it."
they conversed for the space of another hour; then norcot directed the old woman to return to him in three weeks from that night, and let her out of the window.
"an' you'll give me a clear hundred over what you change for me, an' buy my trinkets?" she said.
"all that."
"an' help me to take ship at dartmouth an' get out o' the country?"
"it is agreed."
lovey vanished and peter watched her. the malherb amphora was for that moment uppermost in his mind, but he had not mentioned it for fear of alarming her. his plot was adumbrated and the details began to grow. he meant to marry grace after abducting her from her home; and he designed subsequently to propitiate malherb with the amphora.
"'twill be a little surprise for our old lady to lose it after all," he thought.
peter appeared at seven o'clock to take breakfast, as usual, and, as gertrude poured out coffee, he surprised his sister with an item of intelligence.
"i go to london to-morrow," he said. "it is a bore to travel just now, but the east india company must be obeyed."
