“Good God!” said I, at the mere idea; in a tone which frightened Lorna.

“Fear not, John,” she whispered sadly, and my blood grew cold at it:  “I have means to stop him; or at least to save myself.  If you can come within one day of that man’s getting hold of me, you will find me quite unharmed.  After that you will find me dead, or alive, according to circumstances, but in no case such that you need blush to look at me.”

Her dear sweet face was full of pride, as even in the gloom I saw:  and I would not trespass on her feelings by such a thing, at such a moment, as an attempt at any caress.  I only said, “God bless you, darling!” and she said the same to me, in a very low sad voice.  And then I stole below Carver’s house, in the shadow from the eastern cliff; and knowing enough of the village now to satisfy all necessity, betook myself to my well-known track in returning from the valley; which was neither down the waterslide (a course I feared in the darkness) nor up the cliffs at Lorna’s bower; but a way of my own inventing, which there is no need to dwell upon.

A weight of care was off my mind; though much of trouble hung there still.  One thing was quite certain—­if Lorna could not have John Ridd, no one else should have her.  And my mother, who sat up for me, and with me long time afterwards, agreed that this was comfort.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

A GOOD TURN FOR JEREMY

[Illustration:  318.jpg Illustrated Capital]

John Fry had now six shillings a week of regular and permanent wage, besides all harvest and shearing money, as well as a cottage rent-free, and enough of garden-ground to rear pot-herbs for his wife and all his family.  Now the wages appointed by our justices, at the time of sessions, were four-and-sixpence a week for summer, and a shilling less for the winter-time; and we could be fined, and perhaps imprisoned, for giving more than the sums so fixed.  Therefore John Fry was looked upon as the richest man upon Exmoor, I mean of course among labourers, and there were many jokes about robbing him, as if he were the mint of the King; and Tom Faggus promised to try his hand, if he came across John on the highway, although he had ceased from business, and was seeking a Royal pardon.

Now is it according to human nature, or is it a thing contradictory (as I would fain believe)?  But anyhow, there was, upon Exmoor, no more discontented man, no man more sure that he had not his worth, neither half so sore about it, than, or as, John Fry was.  And one thing he did which I could not wholly (or indeed I may say, in any measure) reconcile with my sense of right, much as I laboured to do John justice, especially because of his roguery; and this was, that if we said too much, or accused him at all of laziness (which he must have known to be in him), he regularly turned round upon us, and quite compelled us to hold our tongues, by threatening to lay information against us for paying him too much wages!