Bram Stoker: The Complete Novels. A to Z Classics

words, when his medium had hitherto been rosy lips, with the added commentary of loving eyes? And yet, when I look back on that letter from a peasant girl, without high education or knowledge of the world, and who had possibly never written a letter before except to her father or brother, or a girl friend, and but few even of these — when I read in every word its simplicity and truth, and recognise the arrière pensée of that simple phrase, “Whatever I say to you I feel and think with all my heart,” find it hard to think that any other letter that she or anyone else could have written, could have been more suitable, or could have meant more.

      When I had read Norah’s letter over a few times, and feared that Mr. Chapman would take humorous notice of my absorption, I turned to the other letter, which I knew was from Dick. I brought this from the window to the table, beside which I sat to read it, Mr. Chapman being still deep in his own neglected correspondence.

      I need not give his letter in detail. It was long and exhaustive, and told me accurately of every step taken and everything accomplished since I had seen him. Mr. Caicy had made his appearance, as arranged, and the two had talked over and settled affairs. Mr. Caicy had lost no time, and fortune had so favored him that he found that nearly all the tenants on the east side of the hill wished to emigrate, and so were anxious to realise on their holdings. The estate from which they held was in bankruptcy; and as a sale was then being effected, Mr. Caicy had purchased the estate, and then made arrangements for all who wished to purchase to do so on easy terms from me. The net result was, that when certain formalities should be complied with, and certain moneys paid, I should own the whole of Knockcalltecrore and the land immediately adjoining it, together with certain other parcels of land in the neighborhood. There were other matters of interest also in his letter. He told me that Murdock, in order to spite and injure Joyce, had completed the damming up of the stream which ran from his land into the Cliff Fields by blocking with great stones the narrow chine in the rocks through which it fell; that this, coupled with the continuous rains had made the bog rise enormously, and that he feared much there would be some disaster. His fear was increased by what had taken place at Knocknacar. Even here the cuttings had shown some direful effects of the rain; the openings, made with so much trouble, had become choked, and as a consequence the bog had risen again, and had even spread downwards on its original course. Alarmed by these things, Dick had again warned Murdock of the danger in which he stood from the position of his house; and further, from tampering with the solid bounds of the bog itself. Murdock had not taken his warnings in good part — not any better than usual — and the interview had, as usual, ended in a row. Murdock had made the quarrel the occasion of ventilating his grievance against me for buying the whole mountain, for by this time it had leaked out that I was the purchaser. His language, Dick said, was awful. He cursed me and all belonging to me. He cursed Joyce and Norah, and Dick himself, and swore to be revenged on us all, and told Dick that he would balk me of finding the treasure, even if I were to buy up all Ireland, and if he had to peril his soul to forestall me. Dick ended his description of his proceedings characteristically: “In fact, he grew so violent, and said such insulting things of you and others, that I had to give him a good sound thrashing.”

      “Others” — that meant Norah, of course — good old Dick! It was just as well for Mr. Murdock’s physical comfort, and for the peace of the neighborhood, that I did not meet him then and there; for, under these favoring conditions, there would have been a continuance of his experiences under the hands of Dick Sutherland.

      Then Dick went on to tell me at greater length what Norah had conveyed in her letter — that, since I had left, Murdock had taken Bat Moynahan to live with him, and kept him continually drunk; that the two of them were evidently trying to locate the whereabouts of the treasure; and that, whenever they thought they were not watched, they trespassed on Joyce’s land, to get near a certain part of the bog.

      “I mean to watch them the first dark night,” wrote Dick, at the close of his letter; “for I cannot help thinking that there is some devilment on foot. I don’t suppose you care much for the treasure — you’ve got a bigger treasure from Knockcalltecrore than ever was hidden in it by men — but, all the same, it is yours after Murdock’s time is up; and, as the guardian of your interest, I feel that l have a right to do whatever may be necessary to protect you. I have seen, at times, Murdock give such a look at Moynahan out of the corners of his eyes — when he thought no one was looking — that, upon my soul, I am afraid he means — if he gets the chance — to murder the old man, after he has pumped him of all he knows. I don’t want to accuse a man of such an intention, without being able to prove it, and of course have said nothing to a soul; but I shall be really more comfortable in my mind when the man has gone away.”

      By the time I had finished the letter, Mr. Chapman had run through his correspondence — vacation business was not much in his way — and we discussed affairs.

      The settlement of matters connected with my estate, and the purchase of Knockcalltecrore, together with the making of certain purchases — including a ring for Norah — kept me a few days in London; but at length all was complete, and I started on my trip to the west of Ireland. Before leaving, I wrote to Norah that I would be at Knockcalltecrore on the morning of the 20th of October; and also to Dick, asking him to see that Andy was sent to meet me at Galway on the morning of the 19th, for I preferred rather to have the drive in solitude than to be subjected to the interruptions of chance fellow-passengers.

      At Dublin Mr. Caicy met me, as agreed; and together we went to various courts, chambers, offices, and banks, completing the purchase with all the endless official formalities and eccentricities habitual to a country whose administration has traditionally adopted and adapted every possible development of all belonging to red-tape.

      At last, however, all was completed; and very early the next morning Mr. Caicy took his seat in the Galway express, in a carriage with the owner of Knockcalltecrore, to whom he had been formally appointed Irish law agent.

      The journey was not a long one, and it was only twelve o’clock when we steamed into Galway. As we drew up at the platform, I saw Dick, who had come over to meet me. He was, I thought, looking a little pale and anxious; but as he did not say anything containing the slightest hint of any cause for such a thing, I concluded that he wished to wait until we were alone. This, however, was not to be for a little while; for Mr. Caicy had telegraphed to order lunch at his house, and thither we had to repair. We walked over, although Andy, who was in waiting outside the station, grinning from ear to ear, offered to “rowl our ‘an’rs over in half a jiffey.”

      Lunch over, and our bodies the richer for some of Mr. Caicys excellent port, we prepared to start. Dick took occasion to whisper to me:

      “Some time on the road propose to walk for a bit, and send on the car. I want a talk with you alone without making a mystery!”

      “All right, Dick. Is it a serious matter?”

      “Very serious!”

Chapter 15 — A Midnight Treasure Hunt

      When, some miles on our road, we came to a long stretch of moorland, I told Andy to stop till we got off. This being done, I told him to go on and wait for us at the next house, as we wished to have a walk.

      “The nixt house?” queried Andy, “the very nixt house? Must it be that same?”

      “No, Andy,” I answered, “the next after that will do equally well, or the third, if it is not too far off. Why do you want to change?”

      “Well, yer ‘an’r, to tell ye the thruth, there’s a girrul at the house beyant what thinks it’s a long time on the road I am widout doin’ anythin’ about settlin’ down, an’ that it’s time I asked her fortin, anyhow. Musha! but it’s afeerd l am to shtop there, fur maybe she’d take advantage iv me whin she got me all alone, an’ me havin’ to wait there till yez come. An’ me so soft-hearted, that maybe I’d say too much or too little.” “Why too much or too little?”

      “Faix, if I said too much I might be settled down before the month was out; an’ if I said too little I might have a girrul lukin’ black at me iv’ry time I dhruv by. The house beyant it