The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First by George Manville Fenn (classic romance novels .TXT) 📕

did.”

“Oh yes; nobody must know, or it would be stopped.”

“Well, I’ve thought a deal about it. What do you say? Shall we try?”

“I will, if you will.”

“And you won’t think I don’t want to fight you now?”

“Well, I can’t help thinking that. You don’t want to, do you?”

Mark frowned, and was silent for a few moments, before saying hurriedly:

“I want to fight the enemy of my house, but I don’t want to fight you in particular. You see, it seems strange, after we’ve fought together against another enemy.”

“It doesn’t seem strange to me,” said Ralph quietly; “it seems stupid.”

“But I’m not afraid.”

“I don’t think I am,” said Ralph. “I think we showed we were not afraid when I wounded you.”

“I wounded you too,” said Mark hotly.

“Yes. Well, then, don’t let’s fight this morning.”

Mark sheathed his weapon, and Ralph did the same.

“Now then,” said the former, “how many men could you get together?”

“Nick Garth, Ram Jennings, and six more.”

“Eight,” said Mark, flushing proudly. “I could get Dan Rugg, Dummy Rugg—he’s only a lad, but he’s stronger than I am. Oh yes: and fourteen more at least.”

“That would not be fair. If you agreed to come and attack the men at Ergles, you would have to bring eight. But could you get swords and pikes for them?”

“Oh yes—for five times as many. How about yours?”

“We’ve plenty of arms. They’re old, but very sharp and good.”

“And could you depend on your fellows to fight?” said Mark.

“Oh yes,” said Ralph, smiling; “they hate these people, and they’d rush at them like dogs would at wolves.”

“So would ours,” cried Mark. “There isn’t one of our men who hasn’t had some relative or friend attacked and ill-used or robbed.”

“Sixteen and ourselves would be plenty.”

“And then there’s Master Rayburn.”

“No,” said Ralph quickly; “he’s getting a very old man, and I don’t think he ought to go. Let’s do it all secretly, and make the men vow not to say a word. Nobody else must know.”

“When would you go?” said Mark, nodding his head in agreement.

“They say you should always strike when the iron is hot.”

“Well, it’s hot enough now,” cried Mark eagerly. “What do you say to to-morrow night.”

“Why not to-night?” said Ralph. “I’m willing. Then we’ll go to-night. What time?”

“It ought to be after our people are gone to bed. We should have to come out unknown.”

“Yes, I forgot that. Then it would have to be ten o’clock first, and it would take us quite an hour to get quietly up to the mouth of the cave.”

“Yes, with a lantern under a cloak, and every man a torch,” said Ralph.

“Oh, I say, you are good at this sort of thing,” cried Mark eagerly. “I shouldn’t have thought of that.”

“We couldn’t fight in the dark; we shouldn’t know friends from foes.”

“We should know our own men, and of course your men would be enemies to my men; but, of course, we shouldn’t want to fight, but to know Purlrose and his men. Yes, we must have pitch torches. I can bring any number of them, for we use them sometimes in the big parts of the mine, where the smoke doesn’t matter. Well, it all seems easy enough. I don’t believe there’ll be a door to batter down, only a curtain across to keep the wind out, and it’s a very narrow place, I remember. I went just inside once.”

“I went in fifty yards or more, with Nick Garth,” said Ralph, “and we had candles. We were looking for lead, but it was all stone shells.”

“Oh, there’s no lead there,” said Mark confidently. “We’ve got all the lead worth working at the Black Tor.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so; but there’s a warm spring of water in there, and from where we stopped, you could hear water running and falling, ever so far-off.”

“But what was it like, as far as you went in?”

“Just as if the mountain had been cracked, and both sides of the crack matched, only sometimes they were two feet apart, and sometimes twenty or more, making big chambers.”

“Yes; some of our mine’s like that,” said Mark thoughtfully. “I say, enemy: think they set any sentries?”

“No, I don’t believe they would.”

“Then we’ll rout them out; and if we can’t do that, we’ll drive them farther in, and pile up big stones at the entrance, and starve them till they surrender.”

“Yes,” cried Ralph eagerly, as he looked at his companion with the same admiration Mark had displayed when he had proposed taking the torches. “Capital: for the place is so big, that I don’t believe we could find them all. Yours will be the way.”

“Well, I think it is right,” said Mark suddenly; “but we must catch old Purlrose to-night.”

“We will if we can,” said Ralph.

“Well then, that’s all. It’s as easy as easy. All we’ve got to do is to get our best men together, and meet—Ah! where shall we meet?”

“At Steeple Stone, half-way there. That will be about the same distance for you to come as for us.”

“That’s good,” cried Mark gleefully. “But we must have a word to know each other by. What do you say to ‘foes?’”

“Oh, that won’t do,” said Ralph. “‘Friends?’”

“But we’re not friends; we’re—we’re—what are we.”

“Allies,” said Ralph quietly.

“Why not that, then? Yes, of course. ‘Allies.’ Can’t be better.”

“‘Allies,’ then,” said Ralph.

“Well, what next?”

“To get the stuff together to fight with,” replied Ralph.

“What, the men? Yes, of course. Then we’d better see to it at once.”

“Yes, in a very quiet way, so that no one knows,” said Ralph.

“And meet at the Steeple Stone about half-an-hour after our people are gone to bed.”

“And the first who are there to wait for the others.”

“Oh, of course,” cried Mark. “Fair play; no going first, and doing the work. That would mean a fresh quarrel.”

“When I fight, I fight fair,” said Ralph proudly.

“I didn’t mean to doubt it,” said Mark apologetically. “I say: this is more sensible than for us two to fight now.”

“Think so?”

“Yes: oh yes; only, of course, our fight has to come. Yes, when these people are cleared off.”

“We can’t have three sets of enemies,” said Ralph gravely; “and I can’t help thinking that if we do not act, they will get more and more daring, and drive us out.”

“Pooh!” said Mark defiantly.

“Ah, I laughed at the idea at first; but they might take Cliff Castle or Black Tor by surprise some night.”

“Well, they might take Cliff Castle,” said Mark, in rather a contemptuous tone, “but not the Black Tor. And they shan’t even try to take either,” he added quickly, as if repenting his words. “We’ll surprise them, and to-night.”

“One moment,” said Ralph. “We must be careful, for it’s quite possible that some of the ruffians may be out on an expedition, and if we met them in the dark, it might cause a serious mistake.”

“We’ll settle all that when we meet,” said Mark. “‘Allies,’ then—to-night.”

“‘Allies’—to-night,” said Ralph; and after stiffly saluting, in the style taught by their fencing masters, the two lads separated, each making for his own home.

Mark’s task proved easy. He went straight to the mine, descended, and found Dummy.

“Coming to go right through the cave beyond the big waterfall, Master Mark?” cried the lad eagerly.

“No,” replied Mark shortly. “Where’s your father?”

“Right away down the mine, in the new lead, Master Mark,” said the lad in a disappointed tone. “Aren’t you never coming to have a hunt?”

“Oh yes, some day.”

“That’s what you always say. There’s lots to see and find out. You know where that water is.”

“Yes: but never mind now.”

“But, Master Mark, I’m sure that it comes from the river, where there’s that sink-hole in the narrow, where you see the water turn round and round.”

“Very likely; but here, I must see your father. Take a light, and go before me. Here, Dummy, are there plenty of torches?”

“Yes, Master Mark; but what do you want with torches?”

“Don’t ask questions, sirrah.”

“Very well, Master Mark,” said the boy, so meekly that his young master was touched, and said gently:

“Look here, Dummy, can I trust you?”

“I dunno, Master Mark. I’ll do what you tell me.”

“That’s right. Will you fight?”

The boy’s eyes flashed in the candle-light, down in the grim chamber were they stood.

“Torches—fight,” he whispered. “Are you going to tackle the Darleys?”

“No; the robbers.”

“T’other’s best; and they’re robbers too. But them’ll do. Want me to come and help fight them?”

“Yes; will you?”

“Will I?” said the boy, showing his teeth. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Master Mark.”

“Well, I want to follow you now. Take me to your father, and—not a word to a soul.”

Dummy slapped his mouth, and shut it close; then going to a niche in the rock, he pointed to a box of candles, and a much bigger one, which he opened and showed to be quite full of long sticks of hempen tow soaked in pitch, one of which he took out, and gave to Mark, and took one himself, lit it, and then led the way down, and in and out among the darkest recesses of the mine.

“Smoky,” said Dummy, giving his torch a wave, and sending the black curls of fume eddying upward, to hang along the stone ceiling. Then he uttered an angry cry.

“What’s the matter?”

“Hot pitch, Master Mark. Big drop splathered on to my hand.”

In due time the place where Dan Rugg was working and directing the men, chipping out the rich lead ore, was reached, and he came out of the murky place.

“Ah, Master Mark,” he said. “You, Dummy, put your foot on that smoky link. Want to smother us?”

“My fault, Dan,” cried Mark. “Come here.”

He communicated a part of the plan, and the miner’s stern face began to relax more and more, till he showed his yellow teeth in a pleasant grin, and put his sharp pick under his arm, so as to indulge in a good rub of his hands.

“The varmin!” he said. “The varmin! Time it were done, Master Mark. Oh yes, I’ll pick out some lads who owe ’em a grudge, same as I do. You want eight of us? Me and seven more?”

“You and Dummy, and six more.”

“Dummy! Tchah! He’s no good.”

Dummy silently dug his elbow into his master’s ribs, but it was unnecessary.

“I want you and Dummy, and six men,” said Mark decisively.

“Oh, very well, sir; you’re young master; but what you can see in that boy I don’t know. Nine on us,” he continued thoughtfully. “Twelve o’ them. ’Taren’t enough, master.”

Mark hesitated. He had not meant to speak of his allies, for fear of opposition, but concluded now that it would be better, and explained everything.

“No, Master Mark; won’t do, sir,” said Dan, shaking his head ominously. “No good can’t come o’ that. They’ll be running away, and leaving us in the lurch.”

“Nonsense. Eight men will be picked who, as you say, owe the ruffians a grudge, and they’ll fight well.”

“But they’d rather fight us, master, same as us would rather fight them.”

“Not this time, Dan. We must join hands with them, and beat the robbers. Another time we may fight them.”

There was a low savage snarl.

“What do you mean by that, Dummy?” cried Mark.

“You didn’t tell me that Darley’s boy was coming to fight alongside o’ you, Master Mark.”

“Then I tell you now, Dummy,” said Mark haughtily. “We’ve joined together to crush the robbers; so hold your tongue.”

“Ay, he’d better,” growled Dan. “Well, Master Mark, I don’t quite like it; but if you say it’s to be done, why, done it shall be.”

“And you’ll make the men you choose be secret?”

“Why, master? Of course Sir Edward knows?”

“Not a word; and he is not to know till we bring in the prisoners.”

“Whee-ew!” whistled the old miner; and then he chuckled. “Well,” he said, “you have growed up a young game-cock! All right, Master Mark. We’ll come; only you must bear all the blame if the master don’t like it. You order me to do this?”

“Yes, I order you,” said Mark firmly. “It is time it was done.”

“That’s so, Master Mark, and that’s enough. I begin to