The Greatest Works of Bram Stoker - 45+ Titles in One Edition. Брэм Стокер
paradise on earth—so far as love and work and the means at command could do it; that it would take up all Dick's time, and keep him for the whole period from pursuing his studies; and that he would have to be manager as well as engineer, and would have to buy the land for me. I told him also my secret hope that in time he would take all my affairs in hand and manage everything for me.
"Buying the land will, I fancy, be easy enough," he said. " Two of the farms are in the market now, and all round here land is literally going abegging. However, I shall take the matter in hand at once, and write you to London, in case there should be anything before you get back." And thus we settled that night that I was, if possible, to buy the whole mountain. I wrote by the next post to Mr. Caicy, telling him that I had a project of purchase in hand, and that Mr. Sutherland would do everything for me during my absence, and that whatever he wished was to be done. I asked him to come over and see Dick before the week was out.
The next day I spoke to Joyce, and asked him if he would care to sell me the lease of the land he now held. He seemed rejoiced at the chance of being able to get away.
"I will go gladly, though, sure enough, I'll be sad for a while to lave the shpot where I was born, and where I've lived all me life. But whin Norah is gone— an' sure she'll never be back, for I'm thinkin' that after her school ye'll want to get married at once—"
"That we shall!" I interrupted.
"An' right enough too! But widout her the place will be that lonesome that I don't think I could abear it! Me sister'll go over to Knocknacar to live wid me married sister there, that'll be only too happy to have her with her; and I'll go over to Glasgow where Eugene is at work. The boy wants me to come, and whin I wrote and tould him of Norah's engagement, he wrote at once askin' me to lave the Hill and come to him. He says that before the year is out he hopes to be able to keep himself—an' me, too, if we should want it—an' he wrote such a nice letter to Norah—but the girl will like to tell ye about that herself! I can't sell ye the Cliff Fields meself, for they belong to Norah; but if ye like to ask her I'm sure she'll make no objection."
"I should be glad to have them," I said, " but all shall be her's in two years!"
And then and there we arranged for the sale of the property. I made Joyce the offer; lie accepted at once, but said it was more than it was worth.
"No," said I, "I shall take the chance! I intend to make improvements."
Norah did not make any objection to her father selling the Cliff Fields. She told me that as I wanted to have them, I might, of course; but she hoped I would never sell the spot, as it was very dear to her. I assured her that in this as in all other matters I would do as she wished, and we sealed the assurance with. Never mind! we sealed it!
I spent the afternoon there, for it was to be my last afternoon with Norah until I came back from Paris. We went down for a while to the Cliff Fields and sat on the table rock and talked over all our plans. I told her I had a scheme regarding Knockcalltecrore, but that I did not wish to tell her about it as it was to be a surprise. It needed a pretty hard struggle to be able to keep her in the dark even to this extent—there is nothing more sweet to young lovers than to share a secret. She knew that my wishes were all for her, and was content.
When we got back to the cottage I said good-bye. This naturally took some time—a first good-bye always does!—aod went home to get my traps packed ready for an early start in the morning—more especially as I wished, when in Galway, to give Mr. Caicy instructions as to transferring the two properties—Norah's and her father's.
When Dick came home, he and I had a long talk on affairs; and I saw that he thoroughly understood all about the purchase of the whole mountain. Then we said good-night, and I retired.
I did not sleep very well. I think I was too happy, and out of the completeness of my happiness there seemed to grow a fear—some dim haunting dread of a change — something which would reverse the existing order of things. And so in dreams the Drowsy God played at ball with me; now throwing me to a dizzy height of joy, and then, as I fell swiftly through darkness, arresting my flight into the nether gloom with some new sweet hope. It seemed to me that I was awake all the night—and yet I knew I must have slept for I had distinct recollections of dreams in which all the persons and circumstances lately present to my mind were strangely jumbled together. The jumble was kaleidoscopic; there was an endless succession of its phases, but the pieces all remained the same. There were moments when all seemed aglow with rosy light, and hard on them, others horrid with the gloom of despair or fear; but in all, the dominating idea was the mountain standing against the sunset, always as the embodiment of the ruling emotion of the scene—and always Norah's beautiful eyes shone upon me. I seemed to live over again in isolated moments all the past weeks; but in such a way that the legends and myths and stories of Knock -calltecrore which I had heard were embodied in each moment. Thus, Murdock had always a part in the gloomy scenes, and got inextricably mixed up with the King of the Snakes. They freely exchanged personalities, and at one time I could see the Gombeen Man defying St. Patrick, whilst at another the Serpent seemed to be struggling with Joyce, and, after twisting round the mountain, being only beaten off by a mighty blow from Koran's father, rushing to the sea through the Shlee-nanaher.
Towards morning, as I suppose the needs of the waking day became more present to my mind in the gradual process of awakening, the bent of my thoughts began to be more practical; the Saint and His Majesty of the Serpents began to disappear, and the two dim cuirassiers who, with the money chest, had through the earlier hours of the night been passing far athwart my dreams—appearing and disappearing equally mysteriously—took a more prominent, or, perhaps, a more real part. Then I seemed to see Murdock working in a grave, whose sides were ever crumbling in as he frantically sought the treasure chest, whilst the gun-carriage, rank with the slime of the bog, was high above him on the brink of the grave, projected blackly against the yellow moon. Every time this scene in its myriad variations came round, it changed to one where the sides of the grave began to tumble in, and Murdock in terror tried to scream out, but could make no sound, nor could he make any effort to approach Norah, whose strong hands were stretched out to aid him.
With such a preparation for waking is it any wonder that I suddenly started broad awake with a strong sense of something forgotten, and found that it was four o'clock, and time to get ready for my journey. I did not lose any time, and after a hot cup of tea, which the cheery Mrs. Keating had herself prepared for me, was on my way under Andy's care to Eecess, where we were to meet the " long car " to G-alway.
Andy was, for a wonder, silent, and as I myself felt in a most active frame of mind, this rather gave me an opportunity for some amusement. I waited for a while to see if he would suggest any topic in his usual style; but as there was no sign of a change, I began:—
"You are very silent to-day, Andy. You are sad! What is it?"
"I'm thinkin'!"
"So I thought, Andy. But who are you thinking of?"
"Faix, I'm thinkin* iv poor Miss Norah there wid ne'er a bhoy on the flure at all, at all; an' iv the fairy girrul at Knocknacar—the poor craythur waitin' for some kind iv a leprachaun to come back to her. They do say, yer 'an'r, that the fairies is mighty fond iv thim leprachauns intirely. Musha! but it's a quare thing that weemen of all natures thinks a power more iv min-kind what is hard to be caught nor iv thim that follys thim an' is had aisy!"
"Indeed! Andy." I felt he was getting on dangerous ground, and thought it would be as well to keep him to generalities if I could.
"Shure they do tell me so; that the girruls, whether fairies or weernen, is more fond iv lukin' out fur leprachauns, or min if that's their kind, than the clargy is iv killin' the divil—an' they've bin at him fur thousands iv years, an' him not turned a hair."
"Well! Andy, isn't it only natural, too? If we look at the girls and make love to them, why shouldn't they have a turn too, poor things, and make love to us? Now you would like to have a wife, I know; only that you're too much afraid of any woman."
"Thrue for ye! But shure an' how could I go dhrivin' about the counthry av I had a wife iv me own in wan place? It's meself that's welkim everywhere, jist because any wan iv the weemen