The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First by George Manville Fenn (best romance books of all time .txt) 📖

Master Rayburn was anxiously expected at the Black Tor, Mark’s first act having been to send Dummy Rugg down to his cottage to ask him to come up; and not finding him there, the boy had very bravely followed him to Cliff Castle, in the full belief that he would be there, and on learning that he was, he sent a message in, and then hurried away.

Matters went on in a very similar way at the Tor, even to Sir Edward accidentally finding that something was wrong, and going to the building at the entrance to the mine, where the wounded men were being attended. But he did not take matters in the same spirit as his inimical neighbour, but attacked his old friend furiously, vowed that he would never forgive him, and threatened his son with the severest punishment, though he did not say what.

Master Rayburn said nothing, but went on dressing the men’s wounds, till, regularly worked up into a perfect fury, Sir Edward turned upon him again. “This ends everything between us, Master Rayburn,” he cried. “I have treated you as a friend, made you welcome at my table, and allowed my son to make you a kind of companion; but now, have the goodness to recollect that we are strangers, and if the gang from out of the cavern yonder attack you, get out of the trouble in the best way you can, for you will have no help from me.”

“Very well,” said Master Rayburn quietly.

“And now, sir, leave my place at once.”

“Oh no!” said the old man quietly, as Mark looked on, scarlet with annoyance, but feeling that he must suffer for what had happened.

“Oh no!” cried Sir Edward, aghast. “Have the goodness to explain what you mean.”

“Certainly,” replied the old man. “I have not finished with this man, and I have another to attend later on.”

“Leave, sir, at once,” cried Sir Edward.

“No,” replied the old man quietly. “You are angry, and are saying that which in calmer moments you will regret. Those men require my assistance, and I must insist upon staying.”

Sir Edward made an angry gesture.

“Go on, then,” he cried; “finish what you have to do, and then leave at once.”

“Yes,” replied Master Rayburn calmly; “but it will be necessary for me to come day after day for quite a week. This man will need much attention.”

Sir Edward turned and walked angrily out of the place; and as if not a word had been said, the old man went on with his task until he had ended. Then telling the men to be of good heart, for their injuries were none of them serious, he went to the door with Mark, whose face was troubled and perplexed.

“There, you need not look like that, my lad,” he said. “Your father’s angry now, but he’ll calm down, and I don’t think he will say much to you. It is more likely that he will want to take revenge upon those ruffians. Cheer up, my boy: I’m not angry with you for what you’ve done. It was the fighting afterwards that was the unlucky part.”

The old man hurried away, and Mark stood watching him descend the slope.

“Cheer up, indeed!” he muttered; “who’s to cheer up at a time like this? I wish I hadn’t listened to that miserable scrub of a Darley. I always hated him, and I might have known that associating with him would lead me into trouble.—Well, what do you want?”

This was to Dummy Rugg, who, like his young master, had escaped without much damage.

“Only come to talk to you, Master Mark,” said the boy humbly.

“Then you can be off. I don’t want to talk.”

“I’ll talk, then, and you listen, Master Mark,” said the boy coolly; and Mark opened his eyes, and was about to order the lad off, but Dummy went on quickly. “I’ve been thinking it all over,” he said. “That gunpowder’s the thing. When we go next we’ll take a lot in bags. When we get there, and they’re hiding in that narrow bit, I’ll untie the bags and throw two or three in. Then we can throw three or four torches, and one of them’s sure to set the powder on fire, and start ’em; then we can all make a rush.”

“Oh, then you think that we shall go again?”

“Oh yes, we must go again, Master Mark. Why, if we didn’t go, the robbers would think we were afraid, and come at us. You’re not going to sit down and look as if we were beat?”

“Well, it would be too bad, Dummy,” said Mark, thoughtfully.

“Bad? I should think it would, Master Mark. I say, wasn’t it grand last night?”

“Grand?”

“Yes; when we were in the cave, with the lights shining, and the pikes sparkling. If they had only come out and fought fair, it would have been splendid.”

“Then you would like to go again, Dummy?”

“Of course, sir. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Mark thoughtfully.

“Yes, you must go again, and take ’em all prisoners. But I suppose you won’t go to-night?”

“Go to-night? No!”

“Well, there’s nothing going on in the mine to-day. Father’s too sore to head the men, and he’s going to lie down and rest till his arm’s better. What do you say to having a good long day below there, and finding which way the river runs—the one we heard?”

“Bah! Stuff! Rubbish! After being up fighting all the night! You must be mad.”

“No, I aren’t,” said Dummy. “I only want you to come. It’ll do you good. You don’t know how much better you’ll feel after a good walk and climb down there.”

“What’s the good, Dummy?”

“We want to find out where the water goes to that is always falling. I’m sure some of it comes out of our river, where the hole’s in the stream.”

“And what good will it do to know where the water goes?”

“I don’t know, but I want to. Can’t go to work after such a night as we had. There’s nobody down the mine to-day.”

Mark put his hand to the place where he had received the blow.

“Headache, Master Mark?”

“Yes. All jarred-like.”

“Then come down. I’ve often had a bad headache when I’ve gone down into the mine, and it’s been so quiet and still there that it has soon got better. Do come, Master Mark; it’ll be better than sitting thinking about being beaten last night.”

“Very well, Dummy,” said Mark at last: “I don’t feel as if I could go to bed and sleep, and I don’t want to be thinking.”

“And you’ll have too much to do down there to think.”

“Yes, I suppose so; and if I stay up, I shall be meeting my father and catching it. Oh, I only wish we had won the day.”

“Couldn’t; ’cause it was night,” said the boy thoughtfully.

“Well, be ready with the candles, and I’ll come in half-an-hour, as soon as I’ve seen how the men are.”

“Oh, they’re all right, and gone to sleep. They don’t mind. But you ought to have let us beat the Darleys, as we didn’t beat the robbers.”

“You go and get the candles,” said Mark sourly.

“Like to have torches too, master?” said the lad, with a cunning grin.

“You speak to me again like that, you ugly beggar, and I won’t go,” cried Mark wrathfully. “Think I want all that horrible set-out with the torches brought up again?”

“I’m off to get the candles ready, Master Mark,” said Dummy humbly; and he hurried down the steep steps to get to the mouth of the mine.

“Wish I’d kicked him,” muttered Mark, as soon as he was alone. “I do feel so raw and cross. I could fight that Ralph Darley and half-kill him now. Here, let’s go and see how miserable all the men are; it’ll do me good.”

He hesitated about going, though, for fear of meeting his father; but feeling that it was cowardly, he went to where the men lay now, found them asleep, and came out again to go into the dining-room and make a hasty breakfast; after which he went out, descended the steep steps out in the side of the rock upon which the castle was perched, glanced up at it, and thought how strong it was; and then came upon Dummy, waiting with his candle-box and flint and steel, close by the building where the blasting-powder was kept.

“Let’s take these too, Master Mark,” he said, pointing to the coils of rope which had been brought back from the cave; “we may want ’em.”

He set the example by putting one on like a baldric, Mark doing the same with the other.

“Now for a light,” he said, taking out his flint, steel, and tinder-box.

“Well, don’t get scattering sparks here,” said Mark angrily. “Suppose any of the powder is lying about, you’ll be blowing the place up.”

“Not I,” said the boy, smiling; “I’m always careful about that.”

He soon obtained a glow in the tinder, lit a match, and set a candle burning. Then taking each one of the small mining-picks, the two lads descended into the solitary place, Dummy bearing the light and beginning to run along cheerily, as if familiarity with the long wandering passages and gloomy chambers had made them pleasant and home-like. Mark followed him briskly enough, for the solemn silence of the place was familiar enough to him, and he looked upon it merely as a great burrow, which had no terrors whether the men were at work or no.

Dummy went steadily on, taking the shortest way to the chamber where he had shown his companion that it was no cul de sac, but