I stood upright, and tried to look around me, but everything was wrapped in a thick pall of darkness. I had never known so dark a night, and, after standing there for a moment or two, I grew afraid to move lest I should make a false step. To the right of me I could hear the wind moaning amongst the pine-trees of Allercombe Wood, which the slightest breeze, when in a certain direction, always seemed to cause, and, many hundred feet below, there was the roar of the sea, unusually loud for such a quiet night, as it swept round the sharp corners of the headland.
Never had I stood there before on such a night, or with such a heavy heart. I wished that I had not come, and yet I was afraid to go. The darkness had closed in upon me till I could almost feel it, and knowing that a single step in the wrong direction might cost me my life, I dared not move. Suddenly the heaviness of the atmosphere was explained. The sky above me seemed to be rent aside to let out a great blaze of vivid light which flashed, glittering and fiercely brilliant, right across the arc of the heavens, sinking at last into the horizon of the sea, which it showed me for a moment with a lurid light, green and disturbed. Almost on its heels came the thunder, and I trembled as I listened. It seemed as if the hills were one by one splitting open with a great crash all around me, and the ground on which I stood shook. Again the lightning was scattered all over the inky sky, giving me ghastly peeps at sections of the patch-worky landscape below, and once it flashed down the conductor of Porlock steeple, showing me the little town as distinctly as I had ever seen it. A gale sprung up with marvellous suddenness; the moaning of the pine-trees became an angry shrieking, and the roar of the sea far away below became a deafening thunder. Black clouds and grey mists came rolling along, sometimes enveloping me, and sometimes passing so close above my head that I could feel their moisture, and, by stretching out my hand, could almost have touched them. Every now and then above the storm I could hear the piteous bleating of the mountain sheep, as they rushed frantically about seeking in vain for shelter which the bare hillside could not afford them. For the rain was coming down in sheets, blinding, driving sheets, and already the swollen mountain streams were making themselves heard above all the din, as they swept down into the Porlock valley.
Before the storm had even commenced to die away I had thrown myself face downwards on the wet grass, and was praying. A strange idea had flashed into my mind, and had suddenly become a conviction. This storm had somehow associated itself in my mind with the sudden sense of gloomy depression which had laid hold of me, and driven me out into the black night. As one ended, so would the troubles which the other foretold. It was a strange idea, but it was stranger still what a mastery it gained over me. I dared not look up lest I should still see a threatening sky and an angry see. If such had been the case, I am convinced that I should have been strongly tempted to have thrown myself from the cliffs into the arms of certain death. But when at last I summoned up courage to rise, and gaze fearfully around, it was a very different sight upon which my eyes dwelt. So strangely different that at first it seemed almost as though the hideous storm which had been raging so short a while ago must surely have been a wild nightmare. The dark line of the Exmoor hills was betopped with a gorgeous bank of rosy-coloured clouds, and the sun which had just escaped from them was shining down from a clear sky, gilding and transforming the whole landscape like some great magician. The white cottages of Porlock seemed basking in its pleasant warmth, whilst the fields between it and the sea seemed to be stretching themselves out smiling and refreshed. Here and there, scattered about amongst them, and on the white sands, were long sparkling streaks of silver, which bore witness of the violence of the rainfall; and the tops of the pine-trees, amongst which the wind was no longer playing strange pranks, seemed encrusted with a glittering mass of diamonds, which shot forth their rays in every direction; and strangest of all seemed the altered aspect of the sea. It stretched away below me like a great lake, with only the gentlest ripple disturbing its placid surface, a mighty playground for myriads of dancing, sparkling sunbeams to revel and disport themselves upon. Never had I seen the hills so green or the sea such an exquisite deep, clear blue. Everything seemed to speak of peace and calm and happiness after suffering. It struck an answering chord in my heart, and I could have cried out with joy. The hideous depression seemed rolled away from me, and I could breathe freely again. My spirits leaped up within me, and I threw my hat into the air and shouted for joy till Allercombe Wood rang with the echoes. Then I turned away and strode down the narrow winding path, suddenly conscious that I was stiff and wet and tired. If I had known then when and how I should next stand on Bossington Point, should I ever have come down? I cannot tell.
CHAPTER VI
AN INTERRUPTED ADDRESS
Imagine a long, bare-looking apartment with white-washed walls and generally cheerless appearance, in one corner of which had been pushed aside black boards, piles of maps, and other evidences of the school-room. Seated on benches which reached to the entrance door was a very fair sprinkling of the Porlock labourers and tradespeople, whose healthy red faces were shining with soap and expectation, and whose whole appearance denoted a lively and creditable desire to be enlightened on the very important subject which they had come to hear discussed. If any one was interested in the land question surely they were, for they all lived either upon it or by it, except a few whose nautical garb betrayed another occupation, and whose presence was the subject of a great dead of good-humoured chaff before the proceedings opened.
"Eh, Bill," cried one of the land toilers whom I knew well, for he worked at Farmer Smith's up at Bossington, "what dost want know about t'land, eh? This'll noa teach thee to catch fishes."
"Never thee moind aboot that, Joe," was the good-humoured answer, "we want noabody to teach us how to catch fish, we don't. I ha' come t' hear what the bloke from Minehead's got to zay 'bout you poor de'ils o' landsmen just out o' curiosity like."
"Coom, Bill, I like that," returned the first speaker. "Poor de'ils, indeed! Bean't we as well off as you vishers, eh!"
"Noa, of course you bean't. How can yer be when every voot of land yer tread on belongs to your maesters? Why, we can go sailing away vor days on the zea, lads, and we've as much roight theer as any voine gentleman in his steam yacht. T' zea belongs to us zall, yer zee, and we as goes vishing ha' got as much roight theer as any one. I reckon we've got the best o' you landsmen theer, eh, Bill. Ha, ha, ha!"