Bram Stoker: The Complete Novels. A to Z Classics
12 — Bog-Fishing and Schooling
When I got near home I met Dick, who had strolled out to meet me. He was looking much happier than when I had left him in the morning. I really believe that now that the shock of his own disappointment had passed, he was all the happier that my affair had progressed satisfactorily. I told him all that had passed, and he agreed with the advice given by Joyce, that for a little while, nothing should be said about the matter. We walked together to the hotel, I hurrying the pace somewhat, for it had begun to dawn upon me that I had eaten but little in the last twenty-four hours. It was prosaic, but true: I was exceedingly hungry. Joy seldom interferes with the appetite; it is sorrow or anxiety which puts it in deadly peril.
When we got to the hotel we found Andy waiting outside the door. He immediately addressed me:
“‘Och, musha, but it’s the sad man I am this day! Here’s Masther Art giv over intirely to the fairies. An’ it’s leprachaun catchin’ he has been onto this blissed day. Luk at him! isn’t it full iv sorra he is? Give up the fairies, Masther Art — do thry an’ make him, Misther Dick — an’ take to fallin’ head over ears in love wid some nice young girrul. Sure, Miss Norah herself, bad as she is, ‘d be betther nor none at all, though she doesn’t come up to Masther Art’s rulin’.”
This latter remark was made to Dick, who immediately asked him:
“What is that, Andy?”
“Begor, yer ‘an’r, Masther Art has a quare kind iva girrul in his eye intirely, wan he used to be lukin’ for on the top iv Knocknacar — the fairy girrul, yer ‘an’r,” he added to me in an explanatory manner.
“I suppose, yer ‘an’r,” turning to me, “ye haven’t saw her this day?”
“I saw nobody to answer your description, Andy; and I fear I wouldn’t know a fairy girl if I saw one,” said I, as I passed into the house followed by Dick, while Andy, laughing loudly, went round to the back of the house, where the bar was.
That was, for me at any rate, a very happy evening. Dick and I sat up late and smoked, and went over the ground that we had passed, and the ground that we were, please God, to pass in time. I felt grateful to the dear old fellow, and spoke much of his undertakings, both at Knocknacar and at Knockcalltecrore. He told me that he was watching carefully the experiment at the former place as a guide to the latter. After some explanations, he said:
“There is one thing there which rather disturbs me. Even with the unusual amount of rain which we have had lately, the flow or drain of water from the bog is not constant; it does not follow the rains as I expected. There seems to be some process of silting, or choking, or damming up the walls of what I imagine to be the different sections or reservoirs of the bog. I cannot make it out, and it disturbs me; for if the same process goes on at Knockcalltecrore, there might be any kind of unforeseen disaster in case of the shifting of the bog. l am not at all easy about the way Murdock is going on there. Ever since we found the indication of iron in the bog itself, he has taken every occasion when l am not there to dig away at one of the clay banks that jut into it. I have warned him that he is doing a very dangerous thing, but he will not listen. To-morrow, when I go up, I shall speak to him seriously. He went into Galway with a cart the night before last, and was to return by to-morrow morning. Perhaps he has some game on. I must ascertain what it is.”
Before we parted for the night we had arranged to go together in the morning to Knockcalltecrore, for, of course, I had made up my mind that each day should see me there.
In the morning, early, we drove over. We left Andy, as usual, in the boreen at the foot of the hill, and walked up together. I left Dick at Murdock’s gate, and then hurried as fast as my legs could carry me to Joyce’s.
Norah must have had wonderful ears. She heard my footsteps in the lane, and when I arrived at the gate she was there to meet me. She said, “Good-morning,” shyly, as we shook hands. For an instant she evidently feared that I was going to kiss her there in the open, where some one might see; but almost as quickly she realised that she was safe so far, and we went up to the cottage together. Then came my reward; for, when the door was closed, she put her arms round my neck as I took her in my arms, and our lips met in a sweet, long kiss. Our happiness was complete. Any one who has met the girl he loved the day after his engagement to her can explain why or how — if any explanation be required.
Joyce was away in the fields. We sat hand in hand, and talked for a good while; but I took no note of time.
Suddenly Norah looked up.
“Hush!” she said. “There is a step in the boreen; it is your friend, Mr. Sutherland.”
We sat just a little further apart and let go hands. Then the gate clicked, and even I heard Dick’s steps as he quickly approached. He knocked at the door; we both called out “Come in” simultaneously, and then looked at each other and blushed. The door opened and Dick entered. He was very pale, but in a couple of seconds his pallor passed away. He greeted Norah cordially, and she sweetly bade him welcome. Then he turned to me:
“I am very sorry to disturb you, old fellow, but would you mind coming down to Murdock’s for a bit? There is some work which I wish you to give me a hand with.”
I started up and took my hat, whispered good-bye to Norah, and went with him. She did not come to the door; but from the gate I looked back and saw her sweet face peeping through the diamond pane of the lattice.
“What is it, Dick?” I asked, as we went down the lane.
“A new start to-day. Murdock evidently thinks we have got on the track of something. He went into Galway for a big grapnel; and now we are making an effort to lift it — whatever ‘it’ is — out of the bog.”
“By Jove!” said I, “things are getting close.”
“Yes,” said Dick. “And I am inclined to think he is right. There is most probably a considerable mass of iron in the bog. We have located the spot, and are only waiting for you, so as to be strong enough to make a cast.”
When we got to the edge of the bog we found Murdock standing beside a temporary jetty, arranged out of a long plank, with one end pinned to the ground, and the centre supported on a large stone, placed on the very edge of the solid ground, where a rock cropped up. Beside him was a very large grappling-iron, some four feet wide, attached to a coil of strong rope. When we came up, he saluted me in a half surly manner, and we set to work, Dick saying, as we began:
“Mr. Severn, Mr. Murdock has asked us to help in raising something from the bog. He prefers to trust us, whom he knows to be gentlemen, than to let his secret be shared in with any one else.”
Dick got out on the end of the plank, holding the grapnel and a coil of the rope in his hand, while the end of the coil was held by Murdock.
I could see from the appearance of the bog that some one had been lately working at it, for it was all broken about as though to make a hole in it, and a long pole that lay beside where I stood was covered with wet and slime.
Dick poised the grapnel carefully and then threw it out. It sank into the bog, slowly at first, but then more quickly; an amount of rope ran out which astonished me, for I knew that the bog must be at least so deep.
Suddenly the run of the rope ceased, and we knew that the grapnel had gone as far as it could. Murdock and I then held the rope, and Dick took the pole and poked, and beat a passage for it through the bog up to the rock where we stood. Then he too joined us, and we all began to pull.
For a few feet we pulled in the slack of the rope. Then there was a little more resistance for some three or four feet, and we knew that the grapnel was dragging on the bottom. Suddenly there was a check, and Murdock gave a suppressed shout:
“We have got it! I feel it! Pull away for your lives!”
We kept a steady pull on the rope. At first there was simply a dead weight, and in my own mind I was convinced that we had caught a piece of projecting rock. Murdock would have got unlimited assistance