With this he calmly packed up my fish, and all the best of dear Annie's
eggs; and went away chuckling steadfastly, to his home, if one may
call it so. But I was so thoroughly grieved and mortified by this most
impudent robbery, that I started forth from my rocky screen with the
intention of pursuing him, until my better sense arrested me, barely
in time to escape his eyes. For I said to myself, that even supposing
I could contend unarmed with him, it would be the greatest folly in the
world to have my secret access known, and perhaps a fatal barrier placed
between Lorna and myself, and I knew not what trouble brought upon her,
all for the sake of a few eggs and fishes. It was better to bear this
trifling loss, however ignominious and goading to the spirit, than to
risk my love and Lorna's welfare, and perhaps be shot into the bargain.
And I think that all will agree with me, that I acted for the wisest, in
withdrawing to my shelter, though deprived of eggs and fishes.
Having waited (as I said) until there was no chance whatever of my love
appearing, I hastened homeward very sadly; and the wind of early autumn
moaned across the moorland. All the beauty of the harvest, all the
gaiety was gone, and the early fall of dusk was like a weight upon
me. Nevertheless, I went every evening thenceforward for a fortnight;
hoping, every time in vain to find my hope and comfort. And meanwhile,
what perplexed me most was that the signals were replaced, in order as
agreed upon, so that Lorna could scarcely be restrained by any rigour.
One time I had a narrow chance of being shot and settled with; and
it befell me thus. I was waiting very carelessly, being now a little
desperate, at the entrance to the glen, instead of watching through my
sight-hole, as the proper practice was. Suddenly a ball went by me, with
a whizz and whistle, passing through my hat and sweeping it away all
folded up. My soft hat fluttered far down the stream, before I had time
to go after it, and with the help of both wind and water, was fifty
yards gone in a moment. At this I had just enough mind left to shrink
back very suddenly, and lurk very still and closely; for I knew what
a narrow escape it had been, as I heard the bullet, hard set by the
powder, sing mournfully down the chasm, like a drone banished out of the
hive. And as I peered through my little cranny, I saw a wreath of smoke
still floating where the thickness was of the withy-bed; and presently
Carver Doone came forth, having stopped to reload his piece perhaps, and
ran very swiftly to the entrance to see what he had shot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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