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The Snake's Pass: Historical Novel. Брэм СтокерЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Snake's Pass: Historical Novel - Брэм Стокер


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Murdock interrupted him:—

      "Aisy now! ye're undher agreement to me; an' I hould ye to it."

      "So you can, you miserable scoundrel, because you know I shall keep my word; but remember that I expect proper treatment; and remember, too, that if I want an assistant I am to have one."

      Again Murdock interrupted—but this time much more soothingly:

      "Aisy! Aisy! haven't I done every livin' thing ye wanted—and helped ye meself every time? Sure arn't I yer assistant?"

      "Yes, because you—you wanted to get something, and couldn't do without me. And mind this! you can't do without me yet. But be so good as to remember that I choose my own assistant; and I shall not choose you unless I like. You can keep me here, and pay me for staying as we agreed; but don't you think that I could fool you if I would P "

      "Ye wouldn't do that, I know—an' me thrusted ye!"

      "You trusted me! you miserable wretch—yes! you trusted me by a deed, signed, sealed, and delivered. I don't owe you anything for that."

      "Mr. Sutherland, sir! ye're too sharp wid me. Yer frind is very welkim. Do what you like—go where you choose—bring whom you will—only get on wid the worrk and kape it saycret."

      "Aye!" sneered Dick, "you are ready to climb down because you want something done, and you know that this is the last day for work on this side of the hill. Well, let me tell you this—for you'll do anything for greed—that you and I together, doing all we can, shall not be able to cover all the ground. I haven't said a word to my friend—and I don't know how he will take any request from you after your impudence; but he is my friend, and a clever man, and if you ask him nicely, perhaps he will be good enough to stay and lend us a hand."

      The man made me a low bow and asked me in suitable terms if I would kindly stop part of the day and help in the work. Needless to say I acquiesced. Murdock eyed me keenly, as though to make up his mind whether or no I recollected him—he evidently remembered me—but I affected ignorance, and he seemed satisfied. I was glad to notice that the blow of Joyce's riding switch still remained across his face as a livid scar. He went away to get the appliances ready for work, in obedience to a direction from Sutherland.

      "One has to cut that hound's corns rather roughly," said the latter, with a nice confusion of metaphors, as soon as Murdock had disappeared.

      Dick then told me that his work was to make magnetic experiments to ascertain, if possible, if there was any iron hidden in the ground.

      "The idea," he said, "is Murdoch's own, and I have neither lot nor part in it. My work is simply to carry out his ideas, with what mechanical skill I can command, and to invent or arrange such appliances as he may want. Where his theories are hopelessly wrong, I point this out to him, but he goes on or stops just as he chooses. You can imagine that a fellow of his low character is too suspicious to ever take a hint from any one! We have been working for three weeks past, and have been all over the solid ground, and are just finishing the bog."

      "How did you first come across him?" I asked.

      "Very nearly a month ago he called on me in Dublin, having been sent by old Gascoigne, of the College of Science. He wanted me to search for iron on his property. I asked if it was regarding opening mines? he said, ' no, just to see if there should be any old iron lying about.' As he offered me excellent terms for my time, I thought he must have some good—or rather I should say some strong motive. I know now, though he has never told me, that he is trying for the money that is said to have been lost and buried here by the French after Humbert's expedition to Killala."

      "How do you work?" I asked.

      "The simplest thing in the world; just carry about a strong magnet—only we have to do it systematically."

      "And have you found anything as yet?"

      "Only old scraps—horseshoes, nails, buckles, buttons; our most important find was the tire of a wheel. The old Gombeen thought he had it that time!" and Dick laughed.

      "How did you manage the bog?"

      "That is the only difficult part; we have poles on opposite sides of the bog with lines between them. The magnet is fixed, suspended from a free wheel, and I let it down to the centre from each side in turn. If there were any attraction I should feel it by the thread attached to the magnet which I hold in my hand."

      "It is something like fishing?"

      "Exactly."

      Murdoch now returned and told us that he was ready, so we all went to work. I kept with Sutherland at the far side of the bog, Murdoch remaining on the near side. We planted or rather placed a short stake in the solid ground, as close as we could get it to the bog, and steadied it with a guy from the top; the latter I held, whilst Murdoch, on the other side, fulfilled a similar function. A thin wire connected the two stakes; on this Sutherland now fixed the wheel, from which the magnet depended. On each side we deflected the stake until the magnet almost touched the surface of the bog. After a few minutes' practice I got accustomed to the work, and acquired sufficient dexterity to be able to allow the magnet to run freely. Inch by inch we went over the surface of the bog, moving slightly to the south-west each time we shifted, following the edges of the bog. Every little while Dick had to change sides, so as to cover the whole extent of the bog, and when he came round again had to go back to where he had last stopped on the same side.

      All this made the process very tedious, and the day-was drawing to a close when we neared the posts set up to mark the bounds of the two lands. Several times during the day Joyce had come up from his cottage and inspected our work, standing at his own side of the post. He looked at me closely, but did not seem to re-cognize me. I nodded to him once, but he did not seem to see my salutation, and I did not repeat it.

      All day long I never heard the sweet voice; and as we returned to Carnaclif after a blank day—blank in every sense of the word—the air seemed chiller and the sunset less beautiful than before. The last words I heard on the mountain were from Murdock:—

      "Nothin' to-morrow, Mr. Sutherland! I've a flittin' to make, but I pay the day all the same; I hould ye to your conthract. An' remember, surr, we're in no hurry wid the wurrk now, so ye'll not need help any more."

      Andy made no remark till we were well away from the hill, and then said, dryly:—

      "I'm afeerd yer 'an'r has had but a poor day; ye luk as if ye hadn't seen a bit iv bog at all, at all. Gee up, ye ould Corncrake! the gintlemin does be hurryin' home fur their tay, an' fur more wurrk wid bogs to-morra!"

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