A to Z Classics - Bram Stoker - The Complete Novels

Love has a modesty of its own, whose lines are boldly drawn, and whose rules are stern.

On more than one occasion I left the hotel secretly — after having ostensibly retired for the night — and wended my way to Knocknacar. As I passed through the sleeping country I heard the dogs bark in the cottages as I went by, but little other sound I ever heard except the booming of the distant sea. On more than one of these occasions I was drenched with rain, for the weather had now become thoroughly unsettled. But I heeded it not; indeed the physical discomfort — when I felt it — was in some measure an anodyne to the torture of my restless soul.

I always managed to get back before daylight, so as to avoid any questioning. After three or four days, however, the “boots” of the hotel began evidently to notice the state of my clothes and boots, and ventured to speak to me. He cautioned me against going out too much alone at night, as there were two dangers: one from the moonlighters who now and again raided the district, and who, being composed of the scum of the country-side — “corner-boys” and loafers of all kinds — would be only too glad to find an unexpected victim to rob; and the other, lest in wandering about I should get into trouble with the police under suspicion of being one of these very ruffians.

The latter difficulty seemed to me to be even more obnoxious than the former; and to avoid any suspicion I thought it best to make my night wanderings known to all. Accordingly, I asked Mrs. Keating to have some milk and bread and butter left in my room each night, as I would probably require something after my late walk. When she expressed surprise as to my movements, I told her that I was making a study of the beauty of the country by night, and was much interested in moonlight effects. This last was an unhappy setting forth of my desires, for it went round in a whisper among the servants and others outside the hotel, until at last it reached the ears of an astute Ulster-born policeman, from whom I was much surprised to receive a visit one morning. I asked him to what the honor was due. His answer spoke for itself:

“From information received, A come to talk till ye regardin’ the interest ye profess to take in moonlichtin’.”

“What on earth do you mean?” I asked.

“A hear ye’re a stranger in these parts; an’ as ye might take away a wrong impression weth ye — A thenk it ma duty to tell ye that the people round here are nothin’ more nor less than leears — an’ that ye mustn’t believe a single word they say.”

“Really,” said I, “I am quite in the dark. Do try and explain. Tell me what it is all about.”

“Why — A larn that ye’re always out at nicht all over the country, and that ye’ve openly told people here that ye’re interested in moonlichtin’.”

“My dear sir, some one is quite mad. I never said such a thing — indeed, I don’t know anything about moonlighting.”

“Then why do ye go out at nicht?”

“Simply to see the country at night — to look at the views — to enjoy the effects of moonlight.”

“There ye are, ye see — ye enjoy the moonlicht effect.”

“Good lord! I mean the view — the purely aesthetic effect — the chiaroscuro — the pretty pictures!”

“Oh, aye! A see now — A ken weel! Then A needn’t trouble ye further. But let ma tell ye that it’s a dangerous practice to walk out be nicht. There’s many a man in these parts watched and laid for. Why in Knockcalltecrore there’s one man that’s in danger all the time. An’ as for ye — why ye’d better be careful that yer nicht wanderins doesn’t bring ye ento trouble,” and he went away.

As last I got so miserable about my own love affair that I thought I might do a good turn to Dick; and so I determined to try to buy from Murdock his holding on Knockcalltecrore, and then to give it to my friend, as I felt that the possession of the place, with power to re-exchange with Joyce, would in no way militate against his interests with Norah.

With this object in view I went out one afternoon to Knockcalltecrore, when I knew that Dick had arranged to visit the cutting at Knocknacar. I did not tell any one where I was going, and took good care that Andy went with Dick. I had acquired a dread of that astute gentleman’s inferences.

It was well in the afternoon when I got to Knockcalltecrore. Murdock was out at the edge of the bog making some investigations on his own account with the aid of the magnets. He flew into a great rage when he saw me, and roundly accused me of coming to spy upon him. I disclaimed any such meanness, and told him that he should be ashamed of such a suspicion. It was not my cue to quarrel with him, so I restrained myself as well as I could, and quietly told him that I had come on a matter of business.

He was anxious to get me away from the bog, and took me into the house. Here I broached my subject to him, for I knew he was too astute a man for my going round the question to be of any use.

At first my offer was a confirmation of his suspicion of me as a spy; and, indeed, he did not burke this aspect of the question in expressing his opinion.

“Oh, aye!” he sneered. “Isn’t it likely I’m goin’ to give up me land to ye, so that ye may hand it over to Mr. Sutherland — an’ him havin’ saycrets from me all the time — maybe knowin’ where what I want to find is hid. Didn’t I know it’s a thraitor he is, an’ ye a shpy.”

“Dick Sutherland is no traitor and I am no spy. I wouldn’t hear such words from anyone else; but, unfortunately, I know already that your ideas regarding us both are so hopelessly wrong that it’s no use trying to alter them. I simply came here to make you an offer to buy this piece of land. The place is a pretty one, and I, or some friend of mine, may like some day to put up a house here. Of course if you don’t want to sell there’s an end to the matter; but do try to keep a decent tongue in your head — if you can.”

My speech had evidently some effect on him, for he said:

“I didn’t mane any offinse — an’ as forsellin’, I’d sell anything in the wurrld av I got me price fur it!”

“Well, why not enter on this matter? You’re a man of the world, and so am I. I want to buy; I have money and can afford to give a good price, as it is a fancy with me. What objection have you to sell?”

“Ye know well enough I’ll not sell — not yit, at all evints. I wouldn’t part wid a perch iv this land fur all ye cud offer — not till I’m done wid me sarch. I mane to get what I’m lukin’ fur — if it’s there!”

“I quite understand. Well, I am prepared to meet you in the matter. I am willing to purchase the land — it to be given over to me at whatever time you may choose to name. Would a year suit you to make your investigations?”

He thought for a moment; then took out an old letter, and on the back of it made some calculations. Then he said:

“I suppose ye’d pay the money down at wanst?”

“Certainly,” said I, “the very day I get possession.” I had intended paying the money down, and waiting for possession as a sort of inducement to him to close with me; but there was so much greed in his manner that I saw I would do better by holding off payment until I got possession. My judgment was correct, for his answer surprised me:

“A month ‘II do what I wanted — or, to be certain, say five weeks from to-day. But the money would have to be payed to the minit.”

“Certainly,” said I. “Suit yourself as to time, and let me know the terms, so that I can see if we agree. I suppose you will want to see your attorney, so name any day to suit you.”

“I’m me own attorney. Do ye think I’d thrust any iv them wid me affairs? Whin I have a lawsuit I’ll have thim, but not before. If ye want to know me price I’ll tell it to ye now.”