Complete Works of Bram Stoker (42 page)

However, there was no time at present for further thought  —  action, prompt and decisive, was vitally necessary. Joyce was absent  —  we had no clew to where he could be. Norah was alone on the mountain, and with the possibility of Murdock assailing her, for he, too, was abroad, as we knew from the fact of his being away from his house.

We lost not a moment, but went out again into the storm. We did not, however, take the lantern with us, as we found by experience that its occasional light was in the long-run an evil, as we could not by its light see any distance, and the gray of the coming dawn was beginning to show through the abating storm, with a faint indication that before long we should have some light. We went down the Hill westward until we came near the bog, for we had determined to make a circuit of it as our first piece of exploration, since we thought that here lay the most imminent danger. Then we separated, Dick following the line of the bog downward while I went north, intending to cross at the top and proceed down the farther side. We had agreed on a signal, if such could be heard through the storm, choosing the Australian “coo-ee,” which is the best sound to travel known. I hurried along as fast as I dared, for I was occasionally in utter darkness. Although the morning was coming with promise of light, the sea wind swept inland masses of swiftly-driving mist, which, while they encompassed me, made movement not only difficult and dangerous, but at times almost impossible. The electric feeling in the air had become intensified, and each moment I expected the thunderstorm to burst.

Every little while I called, “Norah! Norah!” in the vain hope that, while returning from her search for herfather, she might come within the sound of my voice. But no answering sound came back to me, except the fierce roar of the storm, laden with the wild dash of the breakers hurled against the cliffs and the rocks below. Even then, so strangely does the mind work, the words of the old song, “The Pilgrim of Love,” came mechanically to my memory, as though I had called “Orinthia” instead of “Norah”:

“Till with ‘Orinthia’ all the rocks resound.”

On, on I went, following the line of the bog, till I had reached the northern point, where the ground rose and began to become solid. I found the bog here so swollen with rain that I had to make a long detour so as to get round to the western side. High up on the Hill there was, I knew, a rough shelter for the cattle; and as it struck me that Joyce might have gone here to look after his stock, and that Norah had gone hither to search for him, I ran up to it. The cattle were there, huddled together in a solid mass behind the sheltering wall of sods and stones. I cried out as loudly as I could from the windward side, so that my voice would carry: “Norah! Norah! Joyce! Joyce! Are you there? Is anyone there?”

There was a stir among the cattle and one or two low “moos” as they heard the human voice, but no sound from either of those I sought; so I ran down again to the farther side of the bog. I knew now that neither Norah nor her father could be on this point of the Hill, or they would have heard my voice; and as the storm came from the west, I made a zigzag line going east to west as I followed down the bog so that I might have a chance of being heard should there be anyone to hear. When I got near to the entrance to the Cliff Fields I shouted as loudly as I could, “Norah! Norah!” but the wind took my voice away as it would sweep thistles down, and it was as though I made the effort but no voice came, and I felt awfully alone in the midst of a thick pall of mist.

On, on I went, following the line of the bog. Lower down there was some shelter from the storm, for the great ridge of rocks here rose between me and the sea, and I felt that my voice could be heard farther off. I was sick at heart and chilled with despair, till I felt as if the chill of my soul had extended even to my blood; but on I went with set purpose, the true doggedness of despair.

As I went I thought I heard a cry through the mist  —  Norah’s voice. It was but an instant, and I could not be sure whether my ears indeed heard, or if the anguish of my heart had created the phantom of a voice to deceive me. However, be it what it might, it awoke me like a clarion; my heart leaped and the blood surged in my brain till I almost became dizzy. I listened to try if I could distinguish from what direction the voice had come. I waited in agony. Each second seemed a century, and my heart beat like a trip-hammer. Then again I heard the sound  —  faint, but still clear enough to hear. I shouted with all my power, but once again the roar of the wind overpowered me; however, I ran on towards the voice. There was a sudden lull in the wind  —  a blaze of lightning lit up the whole scene, and, some fifty yards before me, I saw two figures struggling at the edge of the rocks. In that welcome glance, infinitesimal though it was, I recognised the red petticoat which, in that place and at that time, could be none other than Norah’s. I shouted as I leaped forward; but just then the thunder broke overhead, and in the mighty and prolonged roll every other sound faded into nothingness, as though the thunder-clap had come on a primeval stillness. As I drew near to where I had seen the figures, the thunder rolled away, and through its vanishing sound I heard distinctly Norah’s voice: “Help! help! Arthur! Father! help! help!” Even in that wild moment my heart leaped, that of all names, she called on mine the first.  —  Whatever men may say, Love and Jealousy are near kinsmen!

I shouted in return as I ran, but the wind took my voice away; and then I heard her voice again, but fainter than before:

“Help! Arthur  —  father! Is there no one to help me now?” And then the lightning flashed again, and in the long jagged flash we saw each other, and I heard her glad cry before the thunder-clap drowned all else. I had seen that her assailant was Murdock, and I rushed at him, but he had seen me too, and before I could lay hands on him he had let her go, and with a mighty oath which the roll of the thunder drowned, he struck her to the earth and ran.

I raised my poor darling, and, carrying her a little distance, placed her on the edge of the ridge of rocks beside us, for by the light in the sky, which grew paler each second, I saw that a stream of water rising from the bog was flowing towards us. She was unconscious; so I ran to the stream and dipped my hat full of water to bring to revive her. Then I remembered the signal of finding her, and putting my hands to my lips I sounded “coo-ee” once, twice. As I stood I could see Murdock running to his house, for every instant it seemed to grow lighter, and the mist to disperse. The thunder had swept away the rain-clouds, and let in the light of the coming dawn. But even as I stood there  —  and I had not delayed an unnecessary second  —  the ground under me seemed to be giving way. There was a strange shudder or shiver below me, and my feet began to sink. With a wild cry  —  for I felt that the fatal moment had come, that the bog was moving, and had caught me in its toils  —  I threw myself forward towards the rock. My cry seemed to arouse Norah like the call ofa trumpet. She leaped to herfeet, and in an instant seemed to realise my danger, and rushed towards me. When I saw her coming I shouted to her: “Keep back! keep back.” But she did not pause an instant, and the only words she said were: “lam coming, Arthur, I am coming!”

Half-way between us there was a flat-topped piece of rock, which raised its head out of the surrounding bog. As she struggled towards it, herfeet began to sink, and a new terror for her was added to my own. But she did not falter a moment, and, as her lighter weight was in herfavor, with a great effort she gained it. In the mean time I struggled forward. There was between me and the rock a clump of furze-bushes; on these I threw myself, and for a second or two they supported me. Then even these began to sink with me, for faster and faster, with each succeeding second, the earth seemed to liquify and melt away. Up to now I had never realised the fear, or even the possibility, of death to myself; hitherto all my fears had been for Norah. But now came to me the bitter pang which must be for each of the children of men on whom Death has laid his icy hand. That this dread moment had come there was no doubt; nothing short of a miracle could save me. No language could describe the awful sensation of that melting away of the solid earth; the most dreadful nightmare would be almost a pleasant memory compared with it.

I was now only a few feet from the rock whose very touch meant safety to me, but it was just beyond my reach. I was sinking to my doom! I could see the horror in Norah’s eyes as she gained the rock and struggled to her feet. But even Norah’s love could not help me; I was beyond the reach of her arms, and she no more than I could keep a foothold on the liquifying earth. Oh, that she had a rope and I might be saved! Alas! she had none; even the shawl that might have aided me had fallen off in her struggle with Murdock.

But Norah had, with her woman’s quick instinct, seen a way to help me. In an instant she had torn off her red petticoat of heavy homespun cloth and thrown one end to me. I clutched and caught it with a despairing grasp, for by this time only my head and hands remained above the surface.

“Now, O God, for strength!” was the earnest prayer of her heart; and my thought was: “Now for the strong hands that that other had despised!”

Norah threw herself backward with herfeet against a projecting piece of the rock, and I felt that if we could both hold out long enough I was saved.

Little by little I gained! I drew closer and closer to the rock! Closer! closer still! till with one hand I grasped the rock itself, and hung on, breathless, in blind desperation. I was only just able to support myself, for there was a strange dragging power in the viscous mass that held me, and greatly taxed my strength, already exhausted in the terrible struggle for life. The bog was beginning to move! But Norah bent forward, kneeling on the rock, and grasped my coat- collar in her strong hands. Love and despair lent her additional strength, and with one last great effort she pulled me upward, and in an instant more I lay on the rock safe and in her arms.

During this time, short as it was, the morning had advanced, and the cold gray mysterious light disclosed the whole slope before us, dim in the shadow of the Hill. Opposite to us, across the bog, we saw Joyce and Dick watching us, and between the gusts of wind we faintly heard their shouts.

To our right, far down the Hill, the Shleenanaher stood out boldly, its warder rocks struck bythe gray light falling over the hill-top. Nearer to us, and something in the same direction, Murdock’s house rose, a black mass in the centre of the hollow. But as we looked around us, thankful for our safety, we grasped each other more closely, and a low cry of fear emphasised Norah’s shudder, for a terrible thing began to happen.

The whole surface of the bog, as faras we could see it in the dim light, became wrinkled, and then began to move in little eddies, such as one sees in a swollen river. It seemed to rise and rise till it grew almost level with where we were, and instinctively we rose to our feet and stood there awe-struck, Norah clinging to me, and with our arms round each other. The shuddering surface of the bog began to extend on every side to even the solid ground which curbed it, and with relief we saw that Dick and Joyce stood high up on a rock. All things on its surface seemed to melt away and disappear as though swallowed up. This silent change or demoralization spread down in the direction of Murdock’s house, but when it got to the edge of the hollowinwhich the house stood, it seemed to move as swiftly forward as water leaps down a cataract. Instinctively we both shouted a warning to Murdock  —  he, too, villain though he was, had a life to lose. He had evidently felt some kind of shock or change, for he came rushing out of the house full of terror. For an instant he seemed paralyzed with fright as he saw what was happening. And it was little wonder; for in that instant the whole house began to sink into the earth  —  to sink as a ship founders in a stormy sea, but without the violence and turmoil that marks such a catastrophe. There was something more terrible, more deadly, in that silent, causeless destruction than in the devastation of the earthquake or the hurricane.

The wind had now dropped away; the morning light struck full over the Hill, and we could see clearly. The sound of the waves dashing on the rocks below, and the booming of the distant breakers filled the air, but through it came another sound, the like of which I had never heard, and the like of which I hope, in God’s providence, I shall never hear again: a long, low gurgle, with something of a sucking sound  —  something terrible, resistless, and with a sort of hiss in it, as of seething waters striving to be free. Then the convulsion of the bog grew greater; it almost seemed as if some monstrous living thing was deep under the surface and writhing to escape. By this time Murdock’s house had sunk almost level with the bog. He had climbed on the thatched roof, and stood there looking towards us, and stretching forth his hands as though in supplication for help. For a while the superior size and buoyancy of the roof sustained it, but then it too began slowly to sink. Murdock knelt, and clasped his hands in a frenzy of prayer. And then came a mighty roar and a gathering rush. The side of the Hill below us seemed to burst. Murdock threw up his arms; we heard his wild cry as the roof of the house, and he with it, was in an instant sucked below the surface of the heaving mass.

Then came the end of the terrible convulsion. With a rushing sound, and the noise of a thousand waters falling, the whole bog swept, in waves of gathering size and with a hideous writhing, down the mountain-side to the entrance of the Shleenanaher  —  struck the portals with a sound like thunder, and piled up to a vast height. And then the millions of tons of slime and ooze, and bog and earth, and broken rock swept through the Pass into the sea.

Norah and I knelt down, hand in hand, and with full hearts thanked God for having saved us from so terrible a doom.

The waves of the torrent rushing by us at first came almost level with us; but the stream diminished so quickly, that in an incredibly short time we found ourselves perched on the top of a high jutting rock, standing sharply up from the sloping sides of a deep ravine, where but a few minutes before the bog had been. Carefully we climbed down, and sought a more secure place on the base of the ridge of rocks behind us. The deep ravine lay below us, down whose sides began to rattle ominously, here and there, masses of earth and stones deprived of their support below where the torrent had scoured their base. Lighterand lighter grew the skyoverthe mountain, till at last one red ray shot up like a crack in the vault of heaven, and a great light seemed to smite the rocks that glistened in their coat of wet. Across the ravine we saw Joyce and Dick beginning to descend, so as to come over to us. This aroused us, and we shouted to them to keep back and waved our arms to them in signal; for we feared that some landslip or some new outpouring of the bog might sweep them away, or that the bottom of the ravine might be still only treacherous slime. They saw our gesticulations, if they did not hear our voices, and held back. Then we pointed up the ravine, and signalled them that we would move up the edge of the rocks. This we proceeded to do, and they followed on the other side, watching us intently. Our progress was slow, for the rocks were steep and difficult, and we had to keep eternally climbing up and descending the serrated edges, where the strata lapped over each other; and besides we were chilled and numbed with cold.