and some were sorry; according to their dispositions.
For Carver had ten or a dozen wives; and perhaps that had something to
do with his taking the loss of Lorna so easily. One child I noticed, as
I saved him; a fair and handsome little fellow, whom (if Carver Doone
could love anything on earth beside his wretched self) he did love. The
boy climbed on my back and rode; and much as I hated his father, it was
not in my heart to say or do a thing to vex him.
Leaving these poor injured people to behold their burning home, we drew
aside, by my directions, into the covert beneath the cliff. But not
before we had laid our brands to three other houses, after calling the
women forth, and bidding them go for their husbands, and to come and
fight a hundred of us. In the smoke and rush, and fire, they believed
that we were a hundred; and away they ran, in consternation, to the
battle at the Doone-gate.
'All Doone-town is on fire, on fire!' we heard them shrieking as they
went; 'a hundred soldiers are burning it, with a dreadful great man at
the head of them!'
Presently, just as I expected, back came the warriors of the Doones;
leaving but two or three at the gate, and burning with wrath to crush
under foot the presumptuous clowns in their valley. Just then the waxing
fire leaped above the red crest of the cliffs, and danced on the pillars
of the forest, and lapped like a tide on the stones of the slope. All
the valley flowed with light, and the limpid waters reddened, and the
fair young women shone, and the naked children glistened.
But the finest sight of all was to see those haughty men striding down
the causeway darkly, reckless of their end, but resolute to have two
lives for every one. A finer dozen of young men could not have been
found in the world perhaps, nor a braver, nor a viler one.
Seeing how few there were of them, I was very loath to fire, although I
covered the leader, who appeared to be dashing Charley; for they were at
easy distance now, brightly shone by the fire-light, yet ignorant where
to look for us. I thought that we might take them prisoners--though
what good that could be God knows, as they must have been hanged
thereafter--anyhow I was loath to shoot, or to give the word to my
followers.
But my followers waited for no word; they saw a fair shot at the men
they abhorred, the men who had robbed them of home or of love, and the
chance was too much for their charity. At a signal from old Ikey, who
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