The Maid of SkerBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Maid of Sker
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Foundlings -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Wales -- Fiction
Not to dwell too much upon scruples which scarcely any one else might
feel, and no other man can enter into, be it enough that my honour now
was bound to do what was expected. But what a hardship it was, to be
sure, to find myself debarred entirely from forming acquaintance, or
asking questions, or going into the matter in my own style! especially
now that my anxiety was quickened beyond bearing to get to the bottom of
all these wonders about Sir Philip Bampfylde. What had led him to visit
me? What was he seeking on Braunton Burrows--for now I knew that it must
be he? Why did Parson Chowne desire to keep such watch on the visitors
to Narnton Court by water, while all the world might pass into or out of
the house by land? Or did the Parson keep other people watching the
other side of the house, and prevent me from going near them, lest we
should league together to cheat him? This last thing seemed to be very
likely, and it proved to be more than that.
Revolving all this much at leisure in the quiet churn of mind, I pushed
off with my little dingy from the side of the Rose of Devon, when the
evening dusk was falling, somewhere at October's end. This little boat
now seemed to be placed at my disposal always, although there used to be
such a fuss, and turn for turn, in taking her. Now the glance of light
on water, and the flowing shadows, keeping humour with the quiet play of
evening breezes, here a hill and there a tree or rock to be regarded,
while the strong influx of sea with white wisps traced the middle
channel, and the little nooks withdrawn under gentle promontories took
no heed of anything; when the moon came over these, dissipating clouds
and moving sullen mists aside her track, I found it uncommonly difficult
to be sure what I was up to. The full moon, lately risen, gazed directly
down the river; but memory of daylight still was coming from the
westward, feeble, and inclined to yield. What business was all this of
mine? God makes all things to have turn; and I doubt if He ever meant
mankind to be always spying into it. Ever so much better go these things
without our bother; and our parson said, being a noble preacher, and fit
any day for the navy, that the people who conquered the world, according
to the prophet Joel--20th after Trinity--never noticed nature, never did
consult the Lord of Hosts, and yet must have contented Him.
Difficult questions of this colour must be left to parsons (who beat all
lawyers, out and out, in the matter of pure cleverness; because the
latter never can anyhow, but the former, somehow, with the greatest
ease, reconcile all difficulties). The only business I have to deal with
is what I bodily see, feel, and hear, and have mind to go through with,
and work out to perfect satisfaction. And this night I found more than
ever broke upon my wits before, except when muzzle gapes at muzzle, and
to blow or be blown up depends upon a single spark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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