Eve

CHAPTER LI.

A SHOT

‘Of all things I could have desired – the best!’ exclaimed Martin Babb as Eve came from the cover of the wood upon the rocky floor. She was out of breath, and could not speak. She put both hands on her breast to control her breathing and quiet her throbbing heart.

Martin drew one foot over the other, poising it on the toe, and allowed the yellow firelight to play over his handsome face and fine form. The appreciative eye was there. ‘Lovelier than ever!’ exclaimed Martin. ‘Preciosa come to the forest to Alonzo, not Alonzo to Preciosa.’

He sang the first verse of the gipsy chorus with rich tones. He had a beautiful voice, and he knew it.

The song had given her time to obtain breath, and she said, ‘Oh, Martin, you must go – you must indeed!’

‘Why, my Preciosa?’

‘My father knows all – how, I cannot conjecture, but he does know, and he will not spare you.’

‘My sweet flower,’ said Martin, not in the least alarmed, ‘the old gentleman cannot hurt me. He cannot himself fetch the dogs of justice and set them on me; and he cannot send for them without your consent. There is plenty of time for me to give them the slip. All is arranged. To-night I leave on Jasper’s horse, which he is good enough to lend me.’

‘You do not know my father. He is not alone – Mr. Coyshe is with him. I cannot answer for what he may do.’

‘Hah!’ said Martin, ‘I see! Jealousy may spur him on. He knows that we are rivals. Watt, be off with you after the horse. Perhaps it would be better if I were to depart. I would not spare that pill-compounding Coyshe were he in my power, and I cannot expect him to spare me.’ He spoke, and his action was stagy, calculated to impress Eve.

‘My dear Walter,’ said Martin, ‘go to Morwell some other way than the direct path; workmen may be about – the hour is not so late.’

The boy did not wait for further orders.

‘You need not fear for me,’ said the escaped convict. ‘Even if that despicable roll-pill set off to collect men, I would escape him. I have but to leave this spot, and I am safe. I presume not one of my pursuers will be mounted.’

‘Why have you a fire here?’

‘The fire matters nothing,’ said Martin grandly; ‘indeed’ – he collected more fircones and threw them on – ’indeed, if the form of the hare is to be discovered, let it be discovered warm. The hunters will search the immediate neighbourhood, and the hare will be flying far, far away.’

‘You know best, of course; but it seems to me very dangerous.’

‘I laugh at danger!’ exclaimed Martin, throwing a faggot on the flames. ‘I disport in danger as the seamew in the storm.’ He unfolded his arms and waved them over the fire as a bird flapping its wings.

‘And now,’ he went on, ‘I leave you —you– to that blood-letter. Why do I trouble myself about my own worthless existence, when you are about to fall a prey to his ravening jaw? No, Eve, that must never be.’

‘Martin,’ said Eve, ‘I must really go home. I only ran here to warn you to be off, and to tell you something. My father has just said that my mother was your sister.’

He looked at her in silence for some moments in real astonishment – so real that he dropped his affected attitude and expression of face.

‘Can this be possible!’

‘He declared before Mr. Coyshe and me that it was so.’

‘You have the same name as my lost sister,’ said Martin. ‘Her I hardly remember. She ran away from home when I was very young, and what became of her we never heard. If my father knew, he was silent about his knowledge. I am sure Jasper did not know.’

‘And Mr. Barret, the manager, did not know either,’ added Eve. ‘When my mother was with him she bore a feigned name, and said nothing about her parents, nor told where was her home.’

Then Martin recovered himself and laughed.

‘Why, Eve,’ said he, ‘if this extraordinary story be true, I am your uncle and natural protector. This has settled the matter. You shall never have that bolus-maker, leech-applier, Coyshe. I forbid it. I shall stand between you and the altar of sacrifice. I extend my wing, and you take refuge under it. I throw my mantle over you and assure you of my protection. The situation is really – really quite dramatic.’

‘Do not stand so near the edge of the precipice,’ pleaded Eve.

‘I always stand on the verge of precipices, but never go over,’ he answered. ‘I speak metaphorically. Now, Eve, the way is clear. You shall run away from home as did your mother, and you shall run away with me. Remember, I am your natural protector.’

‘I cannot – I cannot indeed.’ Eve shrank back.

‘I swear you shall,’ said Martin impetuously. ‘It may seem strange that I, who am in personal danger myself, should consider you: but such is my nature – I never regard self when I can do an heroic action. I say, Eve, you shall go with me. I am a man with a governing will, to which all must stoop. You have trifled with the doctor and with me. I hate that man though I have never seen him. I would he were here and I would send him, spectacles and all – ’

‘He does not wear spectacles.’

‘Do not interrupt. I speak symbolically. Spectacles and all, I repeat, with his bottles of leeches, and pestle and mortar, and pills and lotions, over the edge of this precipice into perdition. Good heavens! if I leave and you remain, I shall be coming back – I cannot keep away. If I escape, it must be with you or not at all. You have a horse of your own: you shall ride with me. You have a purse: fill it and bring it in your pocket. Diamonds, silver spoons – anything.’

She was too frightened to know what to say. He, coward and bully as he was, saw his advantage, and assumed the tone of bluster. ‘Do you understand me? I will not be trifled with. The thing is settled: you come with me.’

‘I cannot – indeed I cannot,’ said Eve despairingly.

‘You little fool! Think of what you saw in the theatre. That is the proper sphere for you, as it is for me. You were born to live on the stage. I am glad you have told me what became of my sister. The artistic instinct is in us. The fire of genius is in our hearts. You cannot drag out life in such a hole as this: you must come into the world. It was so with your mother. Whose example can you follow better than that of a mother?’

‘My father would – ’

‘Your father will not be surprised. What is born in the bone comes out in the flesh. If your mother was an actress – you must be one also. Compare yourself with your half-sister. Is there soul in that mass of commonplace? Is there fire in that cake? Her mother, you may be certain, was a pudding – a common vulgar suet-pudding. We beings of Genius belong to another world, and we must live in that world or perish. It is settled. You ride with me to-night. I shall introduce you to the world of art, and you will soon be its most brilliant star.’

‘Hark!’ exclaimed Eve, starting. ‘I heard something stir.’

Both were silent, and listened. They stood opposite each other, near the edge of the precipice. The darkness had closed in rapidly. The cloudy sky cut off the last light of day. Far, far below, the river cast up at one sweep a steely light, but for the most part of its course it was lost in the inky murkiness of the shadows of mountain, forest, and rock.

Away at a distance of several miles, on the side of the dark dome of Hingston Hill, a red star was glimmering – the light from a miner’s or moorman’s cabin. The fire that flickered on the platform cast flashes of gold on the nearest oak boughs, but was unable to illumine the gulf of darkness that yawned under the forest trees.

Martin stood facing the wood, with his back to the abyss, and the light irradiated his handsome features. Eve timidly looked at him, and thought how noble he seemed.

‘Was it the sound of a horse’s hoof you heard?’ asked Martin. ‘Walter is coming with Jasper’s horse.’

‘I thought a bush moved,’ answered Eve, ‘and that I heard a click.’

‘It is nothing,’ said Martin, ‘nothing but an attempt on your part to evade the force of my argument, to divert the current of my speech. You women squirm like eels. There is no holding you save by running a stick through your gills. Mind you, I have decided your destiny. It will be my pride to make a great actress of you. What applause you will gain! What a life of merriment you will lead! I shall take a pride in the thought that I have snatched you away from under the nose of that doctor. Pshaw!’ – he paused – ’pshaw! I do not believe that story about your mother being my sister. Whether she were or not matters nothing. You, like myself, have a soul, and a soul that cannot live on a farmyard dungheap. What is that! I hear a foot on the bracken. Can it be Watt?’

He was silent, listening. He began to feel uneasy. Then from behind the wood came the shrill clangour of a bell.

‘Something has happened,’ said Eve, in great terror. ‘That is the alarm bell of our house.’

‘My God!’ cried Martin, ‘what is Watt about! He ought to have been here.’ In spite of his former swagger he became uneasy. ‘Curse him, for a dawdle! am I going to stick here till taken because he is lazy? That bell is ringing still.’ It was pealing loud and fast. ‘I shall leave this rock. If I were taken again I should never escape more. Seven years! seven years in prison – why, the best part of my life would be gone, and you – I should see you no more. When I came forth you would be Mrs. Sawbones. I swear by God that shall not be. Eve! I will not have it. If I get off, you shall follow me. Hark! I hear the tramp of the horse.’

He threw up his hands and uttered a shout of joy. He ran forward to the fire, and stood by it, with the full glare of the blazing fircones on his eager face.

‘Eve! joy, joy! here comes help. I will make you mount behind me. We will ride away together. Come, we must meet Watt at the gate.’

A crack, a flash.

Martin staggered back, and put his hand to his breast. Eve fell to her knees in speechless terror.

‘Come here,’ he said hoarsely, and grasped her arm. ‘It is too late: I am struck, I am done for.’

A shout, and a man was seen plunging through the bushes.

‘Eve!’ said Martin, ‘I will not lose you.’ He dragged her two paces in his arms. All power of resistance was gone from her. ‘That doctor shall not have you – I’ll spoil that at least.’ He stooped, kissed her lips and cheek and brow and eyes, and in a moment flung himself, with her in his arms, over the edge of the precipice into the black abyss.

CHAPTER LII.

THE WHOLE

A moment later, only a moment later, and a moment too late, Mr. Jordan reached the platform, having beaten the branches aside, regardless of the leaves that lashed his face and the brambles that tore his hands. Then, when he saw that he was too late, he uttered a cry of despair. He flung his gun from him, and it went over the edge and fell where it was never found again. Then he raised his arms over his head and clasped them, and brought them down on his hair – he wore no hat; and at the same time his knees gave way, and he fell fainting on his face, with his arms extended: the wound in his side had reopened, and the blood burst forth and ran in a red rill towards the fire.

A few minutes later Jasper came up. Watt was at the gate with the horse. They had heard the shot, and Jasper had run on. He was followed quickly by Walter, who had fastened up the horse, unable to endure the suspense.

‘Mr. Jordan is shot,’ gasped Jasper, ‘Martin has shot him. Help me. I must staunch the wound.’

‘Not I,’ answered the boy; ‘I care nothing for him. I must find Martin. Where is he? Gone to the hut? There is no time to be lost. I must find him – that cursed bell is ringing.’

Without another thought for the prostrate man, Walter plunged into the coppice, and ran down the steep slope towards the woodcutter’s hovel. It did not occur to Jasper that the shot he had heard proceeded from the squire’s gun. He knew that Martin was armed. He supposed that he had seen the old man emerge from the wood, and, supposing him to be one of his pursuers, had fired at him and made his escape. He knew nothing of Eve’s visit to the Raven Rock and interview with his brother.

He turned the insensible man over on his back and discovered, to his relief, that he was not dead. He tore open his shirt and found that he was unwounded by any bullet, but that the old self-inflicted wound in his side had opened and was bleeding freely. He knew how to deal with this. He took the old man’s shirt and tore it to form a bandage, and passed it round him and stopped temporarily the ebbing tide. He heard Walter calling Martin in the wood. It was clear that he had not found his brother in the hut. Now Jasper understood why the alarm-bell was ringing. Barbara had discovered that her father had left the house, and, in fear for the consequences, was summoning the workmen from their cottages to assist in finding him.

Watt reappeared in great agitation, and, without casting a look at the insensible man, said, ‘He is not there, he may be back in the mine. He may have unlocked the boathouse and be rowing over the Tamar, or down – no – the tide is out, he cannot get down.’ Then away he went again into the wood.

Mr. Jordan lay long insensible. He had lost much blood. Jasper knelt by him. All was now still. The bell was no longer pealing. No step could be heard. The bats flitted about the rock; the fire-embers snapped. The wind sighed and piped among the trees. The fire had communicated itself to some dry grass, and a tuft flamed up, then a little spluttering flame crept along from grass haulm and twig to a tuft of heather, which it kindled, and which flared up. Jasper, kneeling by Mr. Jordan, watched the progress of the fire without paying it much attention. In moments of anxiety trifles catch the eye. He dare not leave the old man. He waited till those who had been summoned by the bell came that way.

Presently Ignatius Jordan opened his eyes. ‘Eve!’ he said, and his dim eyes searched the feebly-illuminated platform. Then he laid his head back again on the moss and was unconscious or lost in dream – Jasper could not decide which. Jasper went to the fire and threw on some wood and collected more. The stronger the flame the more likely to attract the notice of the searchers. He trod out the fire where it stole, snakelike, along the withered grass that sprouted out of the cracks in the surface of the rock. He went to the edge of the precipice, and listened in hopes of hearing something, he hardly knew what – a sound that might tell him Walter had found his brother. He heard nothing – no dip of oars, no rattle of a chain, from the depths and darkness below. He returned to Mr. Jordan, and saw that he was conscious and recognised him. The old man signed to him to draw near.

‘The end is at hand. The blood has nearly all run out. Both are smitten – both the guilty and the guiltless.’

Jasper supposed he was wandering in his mind.

‘I will tell you all,’ said the old man. ‘You are her brother, and ought to know.’

‘You are speaking of my lost sister Eve!’ said Jasper eagerly. Not a suspicion crossed his mind that anything had happened to the girl.

‘I shall soon rejoin her, and the other as well. I would not speak before because of my child. I could not bear that she should look with horror on her father. Now it matters not. She has followed her mother. The need for silence is taken away. Wait! I must gather my strength, I cannot speak for long.’

Then from the depths of darkness below the rock, came the hoot of an owl. Jasper knew that it was Watt’s signal to Martin – that he was searching for him still. No answering hoot came.

‘You went to Plymouth. You saw the manager who had known my Eve. What did he say?’

‘He told me very little.’

‘Did he tell you where she was?’

‘No. He saw her for the last time on this rock. He had been sent here by her father, who was unable to keep his appointment.’

‘Go on.’

‘That is all. She refused to desert you and her child. It is false that she ran away with an actor.’

‘Who said she had? Not I – not I. Her own father, her own father – not I.’

‘Then what became of her? Mr. Barret told me he had been to see her here at Morwell once or twice whilst the company was at Tavistock, and found her happy. After that my father came and tried to induce her to return to Buckfastleigh with him.’

Mr. Jordan put out his white thin hand and laid it on Jasper’s wrist.

‘You need say no more. The end is come, and I will tell you all. I knew that one of the actors came out and saw her – not once only, but twice – and then her father came, and she met him in secret, here in the wood, on this rock. I did not know that he whom she met was her father. I supposed she was still meeting the actor privately. I was jealous. I loved Eve. Oh, my God! my God!’ – he put his hands against his temples – ’when have I ceased to love her?’

He did not speak for some moments. Again from the depths, but more distant, came the to-whoo of the owl. Mr. Jordan removed his hands from his brow and laid them flat at his side on the rock.

‘I was but a country gentleman, with humble pursuits – a silent man, who did not care for society – and I knew that I could not compare with the witty attractive men of the world. I knew that Morwell was a solitary place, and that there were few neighbours. I believed that Eve was unhappy here: I thought she was pining to go back to the merry life she had led with the players. I thought she was weary of me, and I was jealous – jealous and suspicious. I watched her, and when I found that she was meeting someone in secret here on this rock, and that she tried to hide from me especially that she was doing this, then I went mad – mad with disappointed love, mad with jealousy. I knew she intended to run away from me.’ He made a sign with his hand that he could say no more.

Jasper was greatly moved. At length the mystery was being revealed. The signs of insanity in the old man had disappeared. He spoke with emotion, as was natural, but not irrationally. The fact of being able to tell what had long been consuming his mind relieved it, and perhaps the blood he had lost reduced the fever which had produced hallucination.

Jasper said in as quiet a voice as he could command, ‘My sister loved you and her child, and had no mind to leave you. She was grateful to you for your kindness to her. Unfortunately her early life was not a happy one. My father treated her with harshness and lack of sympathy. He drove her, by his treatment, from home. Now, Mr. Jordan, I can well believe that in a fit of jealousy and unreasoning passion you drove my poor sister away from Morwell – you were not legally married, and could do so. God forgive you! She did not desert you: you expelled her. Now I desire to know what became of her. Whither did she go? If she be still alive, I must find her.’

‘She is not alive,’ said Mr. Jordan.

Then a great horror came over Jasper, and he shrank away. ‘You did not drive her in a fit of desperation to – to self-destruction?’

Mr. Jordan’s earnest eyes were fixed on the dark night sky. He muttered – the words were hardly audible —Si iniquitates observaveris, Domine: Domine, quis sustinebit?

Jasper did not catch what he said, and thinking it was something addressed to him, he stooped over Mr. Jordan and said, ‘What became of her? How did she die? Where is she buried?’

The old man raised himself on one arm and tried to sit up, and looked at Jasper with quivering lips; then held his arm over the rock as, pointing to the abyss, ‘Here!’ he whispered, and fell back on the moss.

Jasper saw that he had again become unconscious. He feared lest life – or reason – should desert him before he had told the whole story.

It was some time before the squire was able to speak. When consciousness returned he bent his face to Jasper, and there was not that flicker and wildness in his eyes which Jasper had observed at other times, and which had made him uneasy. Mr. Jordan looked intently and steadily at Jasper.

‘She did not run away from me. I did not drive her from my house as you think. It can avail nothing to conceal the truth longer. I did not wish that Eve, my child, should know it; but now – it matters no more. My fears are over. I have nothing more to disturb me. I care for no one else. I saw my wife on this rock meet the actor, I watched them. They did not know that I was spying. I could not hear much of what they said; I caught only snatches of sentences and stray words. I thought he was urging her to go with him.’

‘No,’ interrupted Jasper, ‘it was not so. He advised her not to return with her father, but to remain with you.’

‘Was it so? I was fevered with love and jealousy. I heard his last words – she was to be there on the morrow, Midsummer Day, and then to give the final decision. If I had had my gun I would have shot him there, but I was unarmed. All that night I was restless. I could not sleep; I was as one in a death agony. I thought that Eve was going to desert me for another. And when on the morrow, Midsummer Day, she went at the appointed hour to the Raven Rock, I followed her. She had taken her child – she had made up her mind – she was going. Then I took down my gun and loaded it.’

Jasper’s heart stood still. Now for the first time he began to see and fear what was coming. This was worse than he had anticipated.

‘I crept along behind a hedge, till I reached the wood. Then I stole through the gate under the trees. I came beneath the great Scotch pine’ – he pointed in the direction. ‘She had her child with her. She had made up her mind – so I thought – to leave me, and take with her the babe. That she could not leave. Now I see she took it only that she might show the little thing to her father. I watched her on the rock. She kissed the babe and soothed it, and fondled it, and sang to it. She had a sweet voice. I was watching – there – and I had my gun in my hands. The man was not come. I saw rise up before me the life my Eve would lead; I saw how she would sink, how the man would desert her, and she would fall lower; and my child, what would become of my child? Then she turned and looked in my direction. She was listening for the step of her lover. She stooped, and laid the child on the moss, where I lie now. I suppose it opened its eyes, and she began to sing and dance to it, snapping her fingers as though playing castanets. My heart flared within me, my hand shook, and God knows how it was – I do not. I cannot say how it came about, but in one moment the gun was discharged and she fell. I did not mean to kill her when I loaded it, but I did mean to kill the man, the seducer. But whether I did it purposely then, or my finger acted without my will, I cannot say. All is dark to me when I look back – dark as is the darkness over the edge of this rock.’