cept Parson Bowden; for the bottom of his skull, which
holds the brain as in the egg-cup, must have clean gone from him. But
striking him horizontally, and a little upon the skew, the metal
came out at the back of his neck, and (the powder not being strong, I
suppose) it lodged in his leather collar.

Now the rust of this iron hung in the wound, or at least we thought so;
though since I have talked with a man of medicine, I am not so sure of
it. And our chief aim was to purge this rust; when rather we should have
stopped the hole, and let the oxide do its worst, with a plug of new
flesh on both sides of it.

At last I prevailed upon him by argument, that he must get better, to
save himself from being ignobly and unjustly superseded; and hereupon
I reviled Sergeant Bloxham more fiercely than Jeremy's self could have
done, and indeed to such a pitch that Jeremy almost forgave him, and
became much milder. And after that his fever and the inflammation of his
wound, diminished very rapidly.

However, not knowing what might happen, or even how soon poor Lorna
might be taken from our power, and, falling into lawyers' hands, have
cause to wish herself most heartily back among the robbers, I set forth
one day for Watchett, taking advantage of the visit of some troopers
from an outpost, who would make our house quite safe. I rode alone,
being fully primed, and having no misgivings. For it was said that even
the Doones had begun to fear me, since I cast their culverin through the
door, as above related; and they could not but believe, from my being
still untouched (although so large an object) in the thickest of their
fire, both of gun and cannon, that I must bear a charmed life, proof
against ball and bullet. However, I knew that Carver Doone was not
a likely man to hold any superstitious opinions; and of him I had an
instinctive dread, although quite ready to face him.

Riding along, I meditated upon Lorna's history; how many things were
now beginning to unfold themselves, which had been obscure and dark!
For instance, Sir Ensor Doone's consent, or to say the least his
indifference, to her marriage with a yeoman; which in a man so proud
(though dying) had greatly puzzled both of us. But now, if she not only
proved to be no grandchild of the Doone, but even descended from his
enemy, it was natural enough that he should feel no great repugnance to
her humiliation. And that Lorna's father had been a foe to the house
of Doone I