Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First > This page

The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 28. Dummy Rugg Has The Thinks

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. DUMMY RUGG HAS THE THINKS

The blockade was strictly kept up at the mouth of the cavern, Sir Edward having cast aside, at all events for the time being, every feeling of enmity; and in spite of the many disappointments, he grew day by day more determined to rout out the gang, and rescue their prisoners. "Only tell me what to do, Mark, my boy, and if it is possible, it shall be done. If we go on blasting the place we shall end by shutting them in beyond recovery," said Sir Edward, "a good enough thing to do as far as the ruffians are concerned, but we shall destroy Sir Morton Darley and his child."

"I can't think of anything, father," said Mark, gloomily. "I suppose we can only wait."

"That is the conclusion I always come to, my boy. All we can do is to be perfectly ready for the moment when, utterly desperate, they will surrender or break out."

"I hope they'll fight, father," said Mark grimly. "Why?"

"Because it would be so horrible for them to surrender. I'd rather see them die fighting."

"Yes," said Sir Edward, frowning heavily. "Hanging prisoners was all very well a hundred years ago. We don't want to do that sort of thing nowadays. There, run over to the Tor, and see how things are going. You need not hurry back. Tell Mary I shall come myself to-morrow, and that I'm getting very tired of sleeping in a cavern."

"But suppose the men try to break out while I'm gone, father."

"Well, if they do, I shall have all the honour of the fight."

"But I shall not like that," said Mark.

"I might say the same to you to-morrow, my boy," said Sir Edward, smiling. "Go and see how young Darley is; we cannot give up everything to this business."

Mark started for home, leaving his father with a strong enough guard to master the men if they attempted to escape; and before he had gone fifty yards, Dummy came trotting after his young master like a dog.

"Hullo! what is it, Dummy?" cried Mark, stopping short.

"Only coming home with you, Master Mark. Saw you, and father said he didn't want me."

"Oh, very well. Getting tired of it?"

"Ever so, Master Mark. I liked it when we were firing the powder, or having a bit of a fight, but it's so stupid to be doing nothing but sit down and watch a wall, like dogs after rabbits that won't ever come."

"Yes," said Mark, with a sigh, "it is weary work."

"Father says he don't believe they'll ever come."

"But they must, when they've finished their food."

"He says they've got such lots. They've been at work, he says, for twenty miles round, as he knows, and they've stored up sacks of meal and corn, and sides of bacon, and hams, and pickle-tubs of pork. There aren't no end to the stuff they've got, and then they've plenty of good water, both warm and cold."

"Oh, don't talk about it," cried Mark; "it makes me feel as bad as can be."

Dummy settled down into the mood which originated his name during the rest of the way, and the lads parted as they reached the Tor, Dummy to go down the steps to the mine to see how everything looked, and report to his father upon his return, and Mark to hurry up to his room, where Ralph Darley lay insensible still, and where he had a very warm reception from his sister and Master Rayburn.

"Then you have taken the place at last, Mark," cried Mary.

"No," said the lad, frowning, "and we're not likely to take it. I say, Master Rayburn, isn't he a long time getting better?"

"Yes," said the old man gravely, "and perhaps after all it is a mercy that he remains insensible. Poor fellow! it would be horrible for him, in his weak state, to lie fretting because he could not go to the help of his father and sister."

Mark conveyed his message about Sir Edward's intentions for the following day, and he was bending down over the sufferer's pillow, thinking how very much he was changed, when there was a tap at the door, and an announcement that Dummy Rugg must see Master Mark directly.

"I must go, Mary," said Mark excitedly. "Some one has come over after us."

"Oh Mark!" cried the girl, looking startled, and clinging to him.

"Don't do that," cried the lad. "Be brave; I'll take all the care I can."

"Yes," said Master Rayburn to him, with a sad smile, "you will take all the care you can. I know what you are, Mark, but do try, boy, not to be rash."

Mark promised, and hurried down and out into the courtyard; but there was no Dummy visible till he had passed the second, and found him seated on a block of stone, whistling, and swinging his legs to and fro.

"What is it? some one come to fetch us?" cried Mark excitedly.

"No: nobody aren't come," said the boy, looking at him fixedly.

"Then why did you send for me?" cried Mark angrily.

"'Cause I wanted you, Master Mark, very bad indeed."

"Here, what do you mean? What's the matter with you?"

"Got the thinks, very bad."

"Dummy!"

"Yes, Master Mark, I was took with 'em as soon as I got as far as the powder store. It all come at once."

"What do you mean?"

Dummy was perfectly silent, but not perfectly still; for as he stared straight in Mark's face in a peculiarly stolid way, he kept on swinging and jerking his legs till he seemed as if some one was pulling a string to make him act like a jumping toy.

"Look here, stupid-head," cried Mark angrily, but only to break into a laugh, half of amusement, half of vexatious contempt, "are you going mad?"

"I dunno, Master Mark. Perhaps I am. There's something keeps on buzzing in my head like a wheel going round."

"You've been out too much in the sun."

"No, I aren't. I've been down the mine in the dark."

"And got frightened?"

"Not as I knows on, Master Mark. It's the thinks."

"Here, what do you mean, thick-head? I can't stop here listening to your nonsense."

"'Taren't nonsense, Master Mark," said the boy, giving him a peculiar stare.

"What is it, then?"

"I want to know where that water goes to yonder in the mine."

"What! do you mean to say you've had me fetched out to tell me that?"

Dummy nodded, and Mark doubled his fist.

"I've got it, Master Mark."

"Got what, you idiot?"

"We're up ever so much higher here than they are at Ergles, yonder, aren't we?"

"Higher? Of course," said Mark, looking at the lad curiously; "but what of that?"

"That's what I wanted you to tell me, Master Mark, and that's it then."

"What's what then?"

"Why, that water in the mine where we went along, and was under us when we went to sleep--that goes along under ground, right under the moorland, and it comes out again in Ergles Dale."

"Do you think it goes in that direction?"

Dummy nodded.

"Well, but suppose it does, what then?"

"I'm sure it does now, Master Mark, and what the thinks have made me see's this: if you and me had kept going on instead of sitting down, and eating and drinking till we went fas' asleep, we should have found ourselves in Ergles Hole, and if it hadn't been for the Purlrose gang, we might have worked back 'bove ground."

"Why, Dummy! I don't know--yes, if it's that way--goes for miles. I say, perhaps you're right."

"Yes, I'm right," said the boy quietly; "but you don't jump about a bit: you aren't glad."

"Glad? Jump about? Why should I? Oh!"

"Haw--haw--haw!" laughed Dummy. "He can see it now. Why, it come to me, Master Mark, like a flash of lightning."

"Oh, Dummy, I'll never call you a thick-head again," cried Mark excitedly.

"Why not? May if you like: I don't mind."

"Then you think," cried the lad, who was trembling now with excitement, "that we might get into Ergles through our mine?"

"Sure I do--all along them grotters and passages."

"And take the ruffians by surprise?"

"Ketch 'em asleep, Master Mark. They'd never think of our coming behind, like."

Mark seized the boy by the shoulders, and shook him as hard as ever he could.

"Why, you stupid old, ugly old, cleverest fellow that ever was! Why didn't you think of this before?"

"Couldn't, Master Mark," cried the boy, grinning as if he were determined to display every tooth in his head; "it never come till this morning. Right, aren't I?"

"Right! You must be. But suppose we can't get all the way?"

"Water does. Sure to be plenty of room. See how there always was."

"Hurrah! Then we'll go at once."

"What, us two?"

"Of course!"

"We couldn't fight all that lot. Six to one!"

"No; we must go and tell my father at once."

"That's best way," said Dummy, jumping off the stone. "Come on," and they started off at once for the tiny camp, discussing the possibility of the men finding the way through.

"Suppose they got into the mine, and attacked the Black Tor while we're away?"

"No fear o' that, Master Mark," said Dummy, with another of his nice open smiles. "Not many folk as would go and do what we did."

"No, I suppose not," said Mark thoughtfully.

"I'm sort of used to it, Master Mark, from always being down the mine, and always wanting to see where every hole went. No, I don't think any o' them would care to go. Too big and clumsy. They'd never get there." _

Read next: Chapter 29. Playing Mole

Read previous: Chapter 27. Preparations For A Siege

Table of content of Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book