A to Z Classics - Bram Stoker - The Complete Novels

“I see him lukin’ at her wance or twice as if he’d like to ate her; but, bedad, it’s no use if he has, for she wouldn’t luk at him. No wondher, an’ him helpin’ to be takin’ her father’s houldin’ away from him.”

I could not answer Andy’s question as to poor old Dick’s feelings, for such was his secret and not mine; but I determined not to let there be any misapprehension regarding his having a hand in Murdock’s dirty work, so I spoke hotly:

“You tell any one that dares to say that Dick Sutherland has any act or part, good or bad, large or small, in that dirty ruffian’s dishonorable conduct, that he is either a knave or a fool, at any rate he is a liar. Dick is simply a man of science engaged by Murdock, as any other man of science might be, to look after some operations in regard to his bog.”

Andy’s comment was made sotto voce, so I thought it better not to notice it.

“Musha! but the bogs iv all kinds is gettin’ mixed up quarely. Here’s another iv them. Misther Dick is engaged to luk afther the bogs. An’ so he does, but his eyes goes wandherin’ among thim. There does be bogs iv all kinds now all over these parts. It’s quare times we’re in, or I’m gettin’ ould!”

With this Parthian shaft Andy took himself down the hill, and presently I saw the good effects of his presence in stimulating the workmen to more ardent endeavours, for they all leaned on their spades while he told them a long story, which ended in a tumult of laughter.

I might have enjoyed the man’s fun, but I was in no laughing humor. I had got anxious long ago because she had not visited the hill-top. I looked all round, but could see no sign of her anywhere. I waited and waited, and the time truly went on leaden wings. The afternoon sun smote the hill-top with its glare, more oppressive always than even the noontide heat.

I lingered on and lingered still, and hope died within me.

When six o’clock had come I felt that there was no more chance for me that day; so I went sadly down the hill, and, after a glance for Dick’s sake at the cutting, sought the sheebeen where Andy had the horse ready harnessed in the car. I assumed as cheerful an aspect as I could, and flattered myself that I carried off the occasion very well. It was not at all flattering, however, to my histrionic powers to hear Andy, as we were driving off, whisper in answer to a remark deploring how sad I looked, made by the old lady who kept the sheebeen:

“Whisht! Don’t appear to notice him, or ye’ll dhrive him mad. Me opinion is that he’s been wandherin’ on the mountain too long, an’ tamperin’ wid the rings on the grass — you know — an’ that he has seen the fairies!”

Then he said aloud and ostentatiously:

“Gee up, ye old corn-crake! Ye ought to be fresh enough; ye’ve niver left the fut iv the hill all the day.” Then turning to me, “An’ sure, surr, it’s goin’ to the top that takes it out iv wan — aythera horse or a man.”

I made no answer, and in silence we drove to Carnaclif, where I found Dick impatiently waiting dinner for me.

I was glad to find that he was full of queries concerning the cutting, for it saved me from the consideration of subjects more difficult to answer satisfactorily. Fortunately I was able to give a good account of the time spent, for the work done had far exceeded my expectations. I thought that Dick was in much better spirits than he had been; but it was not until the subject of the bog at Knocknacar was completely exhausted that I got any clew on the subject. I then asked Dick if he had had a good time at Shleenanaher?

“Yes!” he answered. “Thank God, the work is nearly done! We went over the whole place to-day, and there was only one indication of iron. This was in the bog just beside an elbow where Joyce’s land — his present land — touches ours — no, I mean on Murdock’s, the scoundrel!” He was quite angry with himself for using the word “ours” even accidentally.

“And has anything come of it?” I asked him.

“Nothing. Now that he knows it is there, he would not let me go near it on any account. I’m in hopes he’ll quarrel with me soon in order to get rid of me, so that he may try by himself to fish it — whatever it may be — out of the bog. If he does quarrel with me! Well, I only hope he will; I have been longing for weeks past to get a chance at him. Then she’ll believe, perhaps —” He stopped.

“You saw her to-day, Dick!”

“How did you know that?”

“Because you look so happy, old man.”

“Yes, I did see her; but only for a moment. She drove up in the middle of the day, and I saw her go up to the new house. But she didn’t even see me,” and his face fell.

Presently he asked:

“You didn’t see your girl?”

“No, Dick, I did not. But how did you know?”

“I saw it in your face when you came in.”

We sat and smoked in silence. The interruption came in the shape of Andy.

“I suppose, Masther Art, the same agin to-morra — unless ye’d like me to bring ye wid Masther Dick to see Shleenanaher; ye know the shpot, surr — where Miss Norah is!”

He grinned, and as we said nothing, made his exit.

With renewed hope I set out in the morning for Knocknacar.

It is one of the many privileges of youth that a few hours’ sleep will change the darkest aspect of the entire universe to one of the rosiest tint. Since the previous evening, sleeping and waking, my mind had been framing reasons and excuses for the absence of It was a perpetual grief to me that I did not even know her name. The journey to the mountain seemed longer than usual; but, even at the time, this seemed to me only natural under the circumstances.

Andy was to-day seemingly saturated or overwhelmed with a superstitious gravity. Without laying any personal basis for his remarks, but accepting as a stand-point his own remark of the previous evening concerning my having seen a fairy, he proceeded to develop his fears on the subject. I will do him the justice to say that his knowledge of folk-lore was immense, and that nothing but a gigantic memory for detail, cultivated to the full, or else an equally stupendous imagination working on the facts that momentarily came before his view, could have enabled him to keep up such a flow of narrative and legend. The general result to me was, that if I had been inclined to believe such matters I would have remained under the impression that, although the whole seaboard, with adjacent mountains, from Westport to Galway, was in a state of plethora as regards uncanny existences, Knocknacar, as a habitat for such, easily bore off the palm. Indeed, that remarkable mountain must have been a solid mass of gnomes, fairies, pixies, leprachauns, and all genii, species and varieties of the same. No Chicago grain elevator in the early days of a wheat corner could have been more solidly packed. It would seem that so many inhabitants had been allured by fairies, and consequently had mysteriously disappeared, that this method of minimisation of the census must have formed a distinct drain on the local population, which, by the way, did not seem to be excessive.

I reserved to myself the right of interrogating Andy on this subject later in the day, if, unhappily, there should be any opportunity. Now that we had drawn near the hill, my fears began to return.

While Andy stabled the mare I went to the cutting and found the men already at work. During the night there had evidently been a considerable drainage from the cutting, not from the bog, but entirely local. This was now Friday morning, and I thought that if equal progress were made in the two days, it would be quite necessary that Dick should see the working on Sunday, and advise before proceeding further.