Chapter 35 of Lorna Dume. This is a Liberox recording. All Liberox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Liberox.org. Recording by Daisy55. Lorna Dume by R.D. Blackmore. Chapter 35. Ruth is not like Lorna. Although by our mother's reluctant consent, a large part of the obstacles between Annie and her lover appeared to be removed. On the other hand, Lorna and myself gained little, except as regarded comfort of mind and some ease to the conscience. Moreover, our chance of frequent meetings and delightful converse was much impaired, at least for the present, because though mother was not aware of my narrow escape from Carver Dume, she made me promise never to risk my life by needless visits. And upon this point, that is to say, the necessity of the visit, she was well content, as she said, to leave me to my own good sense and honor, only begging me always to tell her of my intention beforehand. This pledge, however, for her own sake, I declined to give. Knowing how wretched she would be during all the time of my absence, and on that account, I promised instead that I would always give her a full account of my adventure upon returning. Now, my mother, as might be expected, began at once to cast about for some means of relieving me from all further pearl and herself from great anxiety. She was full of plans for fetching Lorna in some wonderful manner out of the power of the dunes entirely and into her own hands, where she was to remain for at least a twelfth month, learning all mother and aunt could teach her of dairy business and farmhouse life in the best mode of packing butter. And all this arose from my happening to say, without meaning anything, how the poor dear had longed for quiet and a life of simplicity and a rest away from violence. Bless thee, mother, now long in heaven, there is no need to bless thee, but it often makes a dimness now in my well-worn eyes when I think of thy loving kindness, warmth and romantic innocence. As to stealing my beloved from that vile glindoon, the deed itself was not possible, nor be on my daring, but in the first place would she come, leaving her old grandfather to die without her tendons, and even if, through fear of carver and that wicked counselor, she should consent to fly. Would it be possible to keep her without a regiment of soldiers? Would not the dunes at once ride forth to scour the country for their queen and find in her, as they must do, burn our house, murder us, and carry her back triumphantly? All this I laid before my mother, and to such effect that she acknowledged, with a sigh that nothing else remained for me in the present state of matters, except to keep a careful watch upon Lorna from safe distance. Observe the policy of the dunes, and wait for a tide in their affairs. Meanwhile, I might even fall in love, as mother unwisely hinted, with a certain more peaceful heiress, although of inferior blood, who would be daily at my elbow. I am not sure but what dear mother herself would have been disappointed had I proved myself so fickle, and my disdain and indignation at the mere suggestion did not so much to please her, for she only smiled and answered. Well, it is not for me to say, God knows what is good for us. Likens will not come to order, otherwise I should not be where I am this day. In a one thing I am rather glad, Uncle Ruben well deserves that his pet scheme should miscarry. He who called my boy coward, and in global coward, because he would not join some crack brain plan against the valley which sheltered his beloved one.    I knew not that you regarded me with so much contempt on that account, neither have you told my grandfather, at least within my hearing, that he was an insolent old miser. When I return to Doverton, which I trust to do tomorrow for it is too late today, I shall be careful not to tell him your opinion of him. At least I should thaw any schemes you may have upon this property. I thank you all for your kindness to me, which has been very great, far more than a little dwarfish creature could, for own sake. Expect I will only add for your further guidance one more little truth. It is by no means certain that my grandfather will settle any of his miserable money upon me. If I offend him, as I would in a moment, for the sake of a brave and straightforward man, here she gave me a glance which I scarcely knew what to do. My grandfather, upright as he is, would leave me without a shilling, and I often wish it were so. So many miseries come upon me from the miserable money. Here she broke down and burst out crying and ran away with a faint goodbye while we three looked at one another and felt that we had the worst of it.   Well, I am sure, St. Annie, throwing her arms around poor mother, who could have thought that little Atami has such an outrageous spirit? For my part, I cannot think how she can have been sly enough to hide it in that crafty matter, that John might think her an angel. Well, for my part, I answered, laughingly, I never admired Ruth Hucker back half or a quarter so much before. She is rare stuff. I would have been glad to have married her tomorrow if I had never seen my daughter. And a nice nobody I should have been in my own house, cried mother. I never can be thankful enough to darling Lorna for saving me. Did you see how her eyes flashed? That I did, and very fine they were. Now nine maidens out of ten would have seen not to have heard one word that was said, and have borne black malice in their heart. Come Annie now, would not you have done so? I think, said Annie. Although of course I cannot tell, you know, John, that I should have been ashamed at him what was never meant for me, and should have been almost as angry with myself as anybody. So would you, replied my mother, so any daughter of mine would have done, instead of railing and reveling. However, I am very sorry that any words of mine which the poor little thing chose to overhear should have made her so forget herself. I shall beg her pardon before she goes, and I shall expect her to beg mine. That she never will do, said I, a more resolute little maid never yet had right upon her side, although it was a mere accident. I might have said the same thing myself, and she was hard upon you, mother dear. After this we said no more, at least about that matter, and little Ruth, the next morning, left us in spite of all that we could do. She vowed an everlasting friendship to my younger sister Elijah, but she looked at Annie with some resentment when they said goodbye for being so much taller. At any rate, so Annie fancied, but she may have been quite wrong. I wrote beside the little maid till far beyond export when all danger of the more was past, and then I left her with John Fry, not wishing to be too particular after all the talk about her money. She had tears in her eyes when she bade me farewell, and she sent a kind message home to mother and promised to come again at Christmas if she could win permission. Upon the whole, my opinion was that she had behaved uncommonly well for a maid whose self-love was outraged with spirit, I mean, and proper pride. And yet, with a great endeavor to forgive, which is, me seems, the hardest of all things to a woman outside of her own family. After this, for another month, nothing worthy of notice happened, except the course that I found it needful, according to the strictest good sense and honor. To visit Lorna immediately after my decourse with mother and to tell her all about it, my beauty gave me one sweet kiss with all her heart, as she always did when she kissed it all, and I begged for one more to take to our mother, and before leaving, I obtained it. It is not for me to tell all she said, even supposing what is not likely, that any one cared to know it, being more and more particular to ourselves and no one else. But one thing that she said was this, and I took good care to carry it word for word to my mother and Annie. I never can believe, dear John, that after all the crime and outrage wrought by my reckless family, it ever can be meant for me to settle down to peace and comfort in a simple household. With all my heart I long for home, any home, however dull and wearsome, to those used to it would seem a paradise to me, if only free from brawl and torment, and such as I could call my own. But even if God would allow me this, in lieu of my wild inheritance, it is quite certain that the dunes never can and never will. Again, when I told my mother how mother and Annie, as well as myself, longed to have her at plowless borrows and teach her all the quiet duties in which she was sure to take the light, she only answered with a bright blush, that while her grandfather was living, she would never leave him, and that even if she were free, certain ruin was all she could bring to any house that received her, at least within the utmost reach of her amical family. This was too plain to be denied, and seeing my deduction at it, she told me bravely that we must hope for better times, if possible, and ask how long I would wait for her. Not a day if I had my will, I answered very warmly, and which she turned away confused and would not look at me for a while, but all my life. I went on to say, if my fortune is so ill, and how long would you wait for me, Lorna? Till I could get you, she answered silently, with a smile which was brighter to me than the brightest would could be.  I could give you fifty fair ones, but they would not be honest, and I love you for your honesty, and nothing else, of course, John. So don't be conceited. Look at it.  They are some ancient marks upon it, very grotesque and wonderful. It looks like a cat in a tree almost, but never mind what it looks like. This old ring must have been a giant's. Therefore, it will fit you perhaps, you enormous John. It has been on the front of my old glass necklace, which my grandfather found them taken away and very soon made them give back again. Ever since I can remember, and long before that, as some woman told me, now you seem very greatly amazed. Pray, what thanks, my Lord, of it? That is worth fifty of the pearl thing which I gave you, you darling, and that I will not take it from you. Then you will never take me. That is all. I will have nothing to do with a gentleman. No gentleman? Dear! A human? Very well. A human. Nothing to do with a human who will not accept my love gauge. So if you please, give it back again, and take your lovely ring back.  Then I placed the pearl ring back on the soft elastic bend of the finger she held up to scold me, and on my own smallest finger drew the heavy hoop she had given me. I considered this with satisfaction, until my darling recovered herself, and then I began very gravely about it to keep her, if I could, from chiding me. Mistress Lorna, this is not the ring of any giant. It is nothing more nor less than a very ancient thumb ring, such as once in my father's time was plowed up out of the ground in our farm, and sent to learned doctors, who told us all about it, but kept the ring for their trouble. I will accept it, my own one love, and it shall go to my grave with me, and so it shall, unless there be villains who would dare to rob the dead. Now I have spoken about this ring, though I scarcely meant to do so and would rather keep to myself things so very holy, because it holds an important part in the history of my Lorna. I asked her where the glass necklace was from which the ring was fastened, and which she had worn in her childhood, and she answered that she hardly knew, but remembered that her grandfather had begged her to give it up to him when she was ten years old or so, and had promised to keep it for until she could take care of it. At the same time, giving her back the ring, and fastening it from her pretty neck, and telling her to be proud of it, and so she always had been, and now from her sweet breast she took it, and it became John Reed's delight. All this, or at least great part of it, I told my mother truly. According to my promise, and she was greatly pleased with Lorna for having been so good to me, and for speaking so very sensibly, and then she looked at the great gold ring, but could not by no means interpret it. Only she was quite certain, as indeed I myself was, that it must have belonged to an ancient race of great consideration and high rank in their time, upon which I was for taking it off, least it should be degraded by a common farmer's finger. But mother said, no, with tears in her eyes, if the common farmer had won the great lady of the ancient race, what were rings and old world trinkets when compared to the living jewel? Being quite of her opinion in this, and loving the ring, which had no gem in it, as the token of my priceless gem, I resolved to wear it at any cost, except when I should be plowing, or doing things likely to break it. Although I must own that it felt very queer, for I never had throttled a finger before, and it looked very queer for a length of time upon my great hard work in hand. And before I got used to my ring, or people could think that it belonged to me, plain and ungarnished though it was, and before I went to see Lorna again, having failed to find any necessity, and remembering my duty to mother, we all had something else to think of. Not so pleasant, and more puzzling. Now November was upon us, and we had kept all hallow mass with roasting of skewered apples like so many shuttlecocks, and after that the day of forks, as became good protestants, with merry bonfires and burned batatas, and plenty of good feeding in honour of our religion. And then, while we were at wheat-sowing, another visitor arrived. This was Master Jeremy Stickles, who had been a good friend to me as described before, in London, and had earned my mother's gratitude so far as ever he chose to have it. And he seemed inclined to have it all, for he made our farmhouse his headquarters, and kept us quiet at his back and call, going out at any time of the evening, and coming back at any time of the morning, and always expecting us to be ready, whether with horse, or man, or maiden, or fire, or provisions. We knew that he was employed somehow upon the service of the king, and had at different stations certain troopers and orderlies quiet at his disposal. Also we knew that he never went out, nor even slept in his bedroom, without heavy firearms well loaded, and a sharp sword nigh his hand, and that he held a great commission under royal signet, requiring all good subjects, all officers of whatever degree, and especially justices of the peace, to aid him to the utmost with person, beast, and chattel. Or to answer it at their peril. Now, Master Jeremy Stickles, of course, knowing well what women are, durst not open to any of them the nature of his instructions. But after a while, perceiving that I could be relied upon, and that it was a great discomfort not to have me with him, he took me aside in a lonely place, and told me nearly everything, having bound me first by oath not to impart to any one without his own permission, until all was over. But at this present time of writing, all is over long ago, I am forgotten too, I wean, except by those who suffered. Therefore may I tell the whole without any breach of confidence. Master Stickles was going forth upon his usual night journey, when he met me coming home, and I said something half ingest about his zeal and secrecy, upon which he looked all round the yard, and led me to an open space in the clover-field adjoining. John, he said, you have some right to know the meaning of all this, being trusted as you were by the Lord Chief Justice. But he found you scarcely supple enough, neither gifted with due brains. Thank God for that same, I answered, while he tapped his head to signify his own much larger allowance. Then he made me bind myself, which in an evil hour I did, to retain his secret, and after that he went on solemnly and with much importance. There be some people fit to plot, and others to be plotted against, and others to unravel plots, which is the highest gift of all. This last have fallen to my share, and a very thankless gift it is, although a rare and choice one. Much of peril, too, attends it, dare encourage and great coolness are as needful for the work as ready wit and spotless honour. Therefore, his majesties advisers have chosen me for this higher task, and they could not have chosen a better man.  Well, said I, no doubt I am, and all the better for me, although I heard a deal of them, for everybody was talking, and ready to come to blows, if only it could be done without danger. But one said this, and one said that, and they talked so much about Birminghams, and Tantevils, and Whigs, and Tories, and Protestant Flails, and such like, that I was only too glad to have my glass and clink my spoon for answer. Right, John, thou art right as usual.  He has too many mistresses to ever be England's master. Nobody need fear him, for he is not like his father. He will have his own way to his true, but without stopping other folk of theirs. And well he knows what women are, for he never asks them questions. Now, heard ye much in London-town about the Duke of Monmouth? Not so very much, I answered. Not half so much as in Devonshire. Only that he was a hearty man, and a very handsome one, and now was banished by the Tories, and most people wished he was coming back instead of the Duke of York, who was trying boots in Scotland. Things are changed since you were in town. The Whigs are getting up again, through the folly of the Tories killing poor Lord Russell, and now this Master Sydney, if my lord condemns him, will make it worse again. There is much disaffection everywhere, and it must grow to an outbreak. The king has many troops in London, and meaneth to bring more from Tangier, but he cannot command these country-places, and the trained bands cannot help him much, even if they would. Now do you understand me, John? In truth, not I. I see not what Tangier hath to do with Exmoor, nor the Duke of Monmouth with Jeremy Stickles. Thou, great Claude, put it the other way. Jeremy Stickles may have much to do about the Duke of Monmouth. The Whigs having failed of exclusion, and having been punished bitterly for the blood they shed, are ripe for any violence, and the turn of the balance is now to them. Caesar is the fashion of England always, and the Whigs will soon be the top-soyers. But, said I, still more confused. The king is the top-soil, according to our proverb. How then can the Whigs be?  Better to sow with a chestnut than to teach thee the constitution. Let it be so, let it be. I have seen a boy of five years old more apt at politics than Thou. Nay, look not offended, lad. It is my fault for being over-deep to thee. I should have considered thy intellect. Nay, Master Jeremy, make no apologies. It is I that should excuse myself. But God knows I have no politics. Stick to that, my lad, he answered.  Now, in ten words, without parties, or trying thy poor brain too much, I am here to watch the gathering of a secret plot. Not so much against the king, as against the Duke's succession. Now, I understand at last, but Master Stickles, you might have said all that an hour ago, almost. It would have been better if I had to thee, he replied, with much compassion.  Blows, blows are thy business, Jack. There thou art in thine element, and happily this business will bring thee plenty even for thy great head to take. Now, hark unto one who wishes thee well, and plainly says the end of it. Stick thou to the winning side, and have nought to do with the other one. That, said I, in great haste and hurry, is the very thing I want to do, if I only knew which was the winning side, for the sake of Lorna, that is to say, for the sake of my dear mothers and sisters and the farm. Hark! cried Jeremy Stickles, laughing at the redness of my face. Lorna, said Stowell. Now, what Lorna? Is it the name of a maiden, or a lie to love? Keep to your own business, I answered, very proudly. Spire as much as thou wilt, and use our house for doing it, without asking leave or telling. But if I ever find thee spying into my affairs, all the king's lifeguards in London and the Dragoons thou bringest hither shall not save thee from my hand. Oh, one finger is enough for thee! Being carried beyond myself by his insolence about Lorna, I looked at Master Stickles so, and spake in such a voice, that all his daring courage and his spotless honour quailed within him, and he shrank, as if I would strike so small a man. Then I left him, and went to work at the sacks upon the corn-floor, to take my evil spirit from me before I should see a mother. For, to tell the truth, now my strength was full, and troubles were gathering round me, and people took advantage so much of my easy temper. Sometimes, when I was overtried, a sudden heat ran over me, and a glowing of all my muscles, and a tingling for a mighty throw, such as my utmost self-command, and fear of hurting any one could but ill refrain. Afterwards, I was always very sadly ashamed of myself, knowing how poor a thing bodily strength is as compared with power of mind, and that it is coward's part to misuse it upon weaker folk. For the present, there was a little breach between Master Stickles and me, for which I blamed myself very sorely. But though, in full memory of his kindness and faithfulness in London, I asked his pardon many times for my foolish anger with him, and offered to undergo any penalty he would lay upon me. He only said it was no matter, there was nothing to forgive. When people say that, the truth often is that they can forgive nothing. So for the present, a breach was made between Master Jeremy and myself, which to me seemed no great loss in as much as it relieved me from any privity to his dealings for which I had small liking. All I feared was lest I might in any way be ungrateful to him, but when he would have no more of me, what could I do to help it? However, in a few days' time I was of good service to him, as you shall see in its proper place. But now my own affairs were thrown into such disorder that I could think of nothing else, and had the greatest difficulty in hiding my uneasiness. For suddenly, without any warning or a word of message, all my launder's signals ceased, which I had been accustomed to watch for daily, and as it were to feed upon them with a glowing heart. The first time I stood on the wooded crests and found no change from yesterday, I could hardly believe my eyes, or thought at least that it must be some great mistake on the part of my love. However, even that impressed me with a heavy heart, which grew heavier as I found from day to day no token. Three times I went and waited long at the bottom of the valley, where now the stream was brown and angry with the rains of autumn, and the weeping trees hung leafless. But though I waited at every hour of day and fire into the night, no light footstep came to meet me, no sweet voice was in the air. All was lonely, drear, and drenched with sodden desolation. It seemed as if my love was dead, and the winds were at her funeral. Once I sought far up the valley, where I had never been before, even beyond the cops where Lorna had found and lost her brave young cousin. Following up the river channel in shelter of the evening fog, I gained a corner within Stone's throw of the last outlying cot. This was a gloomy, low, square house without any light in the windows, roughly built of wooden stone as I saw when I drew nearer. For knowing it to be Carver's dwelling, or at least suspecting so from some words of Lorna's, I was led by curiosity, and perhaps by jealousy, to have a closer look at it. Therefore I crept up the stream, losing half my sense of fear by reason of anxiety, and in truth there was not much to fear, the sky being now too dark for even a shooter of wildfowl to make good aim, and nothing else but guns could hurt me, as in the pride of my strength I thought, and in my skill of single-stick. Nevertheless I went warily, being now almost among this nest of cockatrices. The back of Carver's house abutted on the waves of the rushing stream, and seeing a loophole vacant for muskets, I looked in, but all was quiet. So far as I could judge by listening, there was no one now inside, and my heart for a moment leaked with joy, for I had feared to find Lorna there. Then I took a careful survey of the dwelling, and its windows and its door and aspect, as if I had been a robber, meaning to make privy entrance. It was well for me that I did this, as you will find hereafter. Having impressed upon my mind, a slow but perhaps retentive mind, all the bearings of the place, and all its opportunities, and even the curve of the stream along it, and the bushes near the door, I was much inclined to go farther up and understand all the village. But a bar of red light across the river, some forty yards on above me, and crossing from the opposite side like a chain, prevented me. In that second house there was a gathering of loud and merry outlaws, making as much noise as if they had the law upon their side. Some, indeed, as I approached, were laying down both right and wrong, as purely, and with as high a sense as if they knew the difference. Cold and troubled as I was, I could hardly keep from laughing. Before I betook myself home that night, and eased dear mother's heart so much, and made her pale face spread with smiles, I had resolved to penetrate Glen June from the upper end, and learn all about my Lorna. Not but what I might have entered from my unsuspected channel, as so often I had done, but that I saw a fearful need for knowing something more than that. Here was every sort of trouble gathering upon me. Here was Deremy Stickles stealing upon everyone in the dark. Here was Uncle Rubin plotting Satan only could tell what. Here was a white, night-capped man coming bodily from the grave. Here was my own sister Annie, committed to a highwayman, and mother in distraction. Most of all, here, there, and where. Here was my Lorna, stolen, dungeoned, perhaps outraged. It was no time for silly-shelly, for the balance of this and that, or for a man with blood and muscle to pat his nose in ponder. If I left my Lorna so, if I let those black-sold villains work their pleasure on my love, if the heart that claved to mine could find no vigor in it, then let maiden cease from men, and rest their faith in tabby-cats. Rudely rolling these ideas in my heavy head and brain, I resolved to let the morrow put them into form and order, but not contradict them. And then, as my constitution willed, being like that of England, I slept, and there was no stopping me. End of Chapter 36 Read by Landy in Sydney, Australia, September 2008. Chapter 37 of Lorna Dune. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Lorna Dune by R. D. Blackmore. Chapter 37. A Very Desperate Venture. That the enterprise now resolved upon was far more dangerous than any hither to attempted by me, needs no further proof than this. I went and made my will at Paulock, with a middling honest lawyer there. Not that I had much to leave, but that none could say how far the farm, and all the farming stock, might depend on my disposition. It makes me smile when I remember how particular I was, and how for the life of me I was puzzled to bequeath the most part of my clothes and hats and things altogether my own to Lorna, without the street-old lawyer knowing who she was and where she lived. At last, indeed, I flattered myself that I had baffled old tape's curiosity, but his wrinkled smile and his speech at parting made me again uneasy. A very excellent will, young sir, and admirably just and virtuous will. All your effects to your nearest of kin, filial and fraternal duty, thoroughly exemplified. Nothing diverted to alien channels except a small token of esteem and reverence to an elderly lady, I presume, and which may or may not be valid, or invalid, on the ground of uncertainty, or the absence of any legal status on the part of the legatee. Ha-ha, yes, yes. Few young men are so free from exceptional entanglements. Two guineas is my charge, sir, and a rare goodwill for the money. Very prudent of you, sir. Does you credit in every way? Well, well, we all must die, and often the young, before the old. Not only did I think two guineas a great deal too much money for a quarter of an hour's employment, but I also disliked particularly the words with which he concluded. They sounded, from his grating voice, like the evil omen of a croaking raven. Nevertheless I still abhorred in my fixed resolve to go, and find out, if I died for it, what was become of Lorna. And herein I lay no claim to courage, the matter being simply a choice between two evils, of which by far the greater one was, of course, to lose my darling. The journey was a great deal longer to fetch around the southern hills, and enter by the dune gate, than to cross the lower land and steal in by the waterslide. However, I durst not take a horse, for fear of the dunes who might be abroad upon their usual business, but started be times in the evening, so as not to hurry, or waste any strength upon the way. And thus I came to the robbers' highway, walking circumspectly, scanning the skyline of every hill, and searching the folds of every valley, for any moving figure. Although it was now well on towards dark, and the sun was down an hour or so, I could see the robbers' road before me, in a trough of the winding hills where the brook plowed down from the higher burrows, and the coving banks were roofed with furs. At present there was no one passing, neither post nor sentinel, so far as I could describe, but I thought it safer to wait a little, as twilight melted into night, and then I crept down a seam of the high land, and stood upon the dune track. As the road approached the entrance, it became more straight and strung, like a channel cut off from rock, with the water brawling darkly along the naked side of it. Not a tree or bush was left to shelter a man from bullets, all was stern and stiff and rugged, as I could not help perceiving even to the darkness, and a smell as of churchyard mould, a sense of being boxed in and cooped, made me long to be out again. And here I was, or seemed to be, particularly unlucky, for as I drew near the very entrance, lightly of fort and wearily, the moon, which had often been my friend, like an enemy broke upon me, topping the eastward ridge of rock and filling all the open spaces with the play of wavering light. I shrank back into the shadowy quarter on the right side of the road, and gloomily employed myself to watch the triple entrance on which the moonlight fell askew.  This, as I heard before, could be let fall in a moment so as to crush a score of men and bar the approach of horses. Behind this tree the rocky mouth was spanned, as by a gallery, with brushwood and piled timber, all upon a ledge of stone, where thirty men might lurk unseen, and fire at any invader. From that rampart it would be impossible to dislodge them, because the rock fell sheer below them twenty feet or it may be more, while overhead it towered three hundred, and so juttered over that nothing could be cast upon them, even if a man could climb the heights. And the access to this portcullis place, if I may so call it, being no portcullis there, was through certain rocky chambers known to the tenants only. But the cleverest of their devices, and the most puzzling to an enemy, was that instead of one mouth only, there were three to choose from, with nothing to be token which was the proper access, all being pretty much alike, and all unfenced and yawning. And the common rumour was that in times of any danger, when any force was known to be on muster in the neighbourhood, they changed their entrance every day, and diverted the other two by means of sliding doors to the chasms and dark abysses. Now I could see those three rough arches, jagged, black, and terrible, and I knew that only one of them could lead me to the valley. Neither gave the river now any further guidance, but dived underground with a sullen roar, where it met the crossbar of the mountain. Having no means at all of judging which was the right way of the three, and knowing that the other two would lead to almost certain death in the ruggedness and darkness, for how could a man among precipices and bottomless depths of water without a ray of light have any chance to save his life? I do declare that I was half inclined to go away and have done with it. However I knew one thing for certain, to which, that the longer I stayed debating, the more would the enterprise pawl upon me, and the less my relish be. And it struck me that in times of peace, the middle way was the likeliest, and the others diverging right and left in their farther parts, might be made to slide into it, not far from the entrance, at the pleasure of the waters. Also I took it for good omen that I remembered, as rarely happened, a very fine line in the Latin grammar, whose emphasis and meaning is, middle road is safest. Therefore, without more hesitation, I plunged into the middle way, holding a long ash staff before me, shortened at the end with iron. Recently I was in black darkness, groping along the wall, and feeling a deal more fear than I wished to feel, especially when upon looking back I could no longer see the light which I had forsaken. Then I stumbled over something hard, and sharp, and very cold, moreover so grievous to my legs that it needed my very best doctrine and humour to feel bare from swearing in the manner they use in London. But when I arose and felt it, and knew it to be a culverine, I was somewhat reassured thereby, inasmuch as it was not likely that they would plant this engine, except in the real and true entrance. Therefore I went on again, more painfully and wearily, and presently found it to be good that I had received that knock, and borne it with such patience, for otherwise I might have blundered full upon the centuries and been shot without more ado. As it was I had barely time to draw back, as I turned a corner upon them, and if their land-horn had been in its place they could scarce have failed to describe me, unless indeed I had seen the gleam before I turned a corner. There seemed to be only two of them, of size indeed and stature, as all the dunes must be, but I need not have feared to encounter them both, had they been unarmed, as I was. It was planned, however, that each had a long and heavy carbine, not in his hand as it should have been, but standing close beside him. Therefore it behoved me now to be exceedingly careful, and even that might scarce avail without luck in proportion. So I kept well back at the corner, and laid one cheek to the rock-face, and kept my outer eye round the jut in the weariest mode I could compass, watching my opportunity, and this is what I saw. The two villains looked very happy, which villains have no right to be, but often are, Miss Emeth. They were sitting in a niche of rock, with the land-horn in the corner, quaffing something from glass-measures and playing at push-pin, or shepherd's-chest, or basset, or some trivial game of that sort. Each was smoking a long clay pipe, quite of new London shape I could see, for the shadow was thrown out clearly, and each would laugh from time to time as he fancied he got the better of it. One was sitting with his knees up and left hand on his thigh, and this one had his back to me and seemed to be the starter. The other leaned more against the rock, half sitting and half astraddle, and wearing leather and overalls as if newly come from riding. I could see his face quite clearly by the light of the open land-horn, and a handsomer or a bolder face I had seldom, if ever, set eyes upon, in so much that it made me very unhappy to think of his being so near my launder. How long am I to stand crouching here, I asked of myself, at last, being tired of hearing them cry, score one, score two, no, no, by dash, Charlie, by dash, I say it is, Phelps. And yet my only chance of slipping by them unperceived was to wait till they quarrelled more, and came to blows about it. Presently, as I made up my mind to steal along towards them, for the cavern was pretty wide just there. Charlie, or Chalworth Dune, the younger and taller man, reached forth his hand to seize the money which he swore he had won that time. Upon this the other jerked his arm, vowing that he had no right to it, whereupon Charlie flung at his face the contents of the glass he was sipping, but missed him and hit the candle, which spotted with a flare of blue flame, from the strength perhaps of the spirit, and then went out completely. At this one swore and the other laughed, and before they had settled what to do I was past them and round the corner. And then, like a giddy fool as I was, I needs must give them a startler, the whoop of an owl done so exactly as John Fry had taught me, and echoed by the roof so fearfully that one of them dropped the tinder-box and the other caught up his gun and cocked it, at least as I judged by the sounds they made. And then, too late, I knew my madness, for if either of them had fired, no doubt that what all the village would have arisen and rushed upon me. However, as the luck of the matter went it proved for my advantage, for I heard one say to the other, Curse it, Charlie, what was that? It scared me so, I have dropped my box, my flint is gone, and everything. Will the rimstone catch from your pipe, my lad? My pipe is outfelps ever so long. Dammit, I am not afraid of an owl-man. Give me the lantern, and stay here. I'm not half done with you yet, my friend. Well said, my boy, well said.  The other sleepyheads will be snoring as there is nothing up to-night. No dallying now under Captain's window.  Will he, though? Too can play at that. And so, after some rude jests and laughter and a few more oaths, I heard Charlie, or at any rate somebody, coming toward me with a loose and not too sober footfall. As he reeled a little in his gate, and I would not move from his way one inch after his talk of launder, but only long to grasp him, if common sense permitted it, his braided coat came against my thumb and his leaven-gaiters brushed my knee. If he had turned or noticed it, he would have been a dead man in a moment, but his drunkenness saved him. So I let him reel on unharmed, and there a point had occurred to me that I could have no better guide passing as he would exactly where I wished to be, that is to say, under Lorner's window. Therefore I followed him without any special caution, and sooner had the pleasure of seeing his form against the moonlit sky. Down a steep and winding path with a handrail at the corners, such as I have at Ilfricome, Master Charlie tripped along, and indeed there was much tripping, and he must have been an active fellow to recover as he did, and after him walk, die, much hoping for his own poor sake, that he might not turn and despy me. But Bacchus, of whom I read at school with great wonder about his meaning, and the same I may say of Venus, that great deity preserved Charlie, his pious worshipper, from regarding consequences. So he led me very kindly to the top of the meadowland, where the stream from underground broke forth, seething quietly with a little hiss of bubbles. Hence I had fair view and outline of the robbers' township, spread with bushes here and there, but not heavily overshadowed. The moon, approaching now the full, brought the forms in a meadow forth, clothing each with character, as the moon more than the sun does to an eye accustomed. I knew that the captain's house was first, both from what Lorna had said of it, and from my mother's description, and now again from seeing Charlie halt there for a certain time, and whistle on his fingers and hurry on, fearing consequence. The tune that he whistled was strange to me, and lingered in my ears as having something very new and striking and fantastic in it, and I repeated it softly to myself while I marked the position of the houses and the beauty of the village, for the stream in lieu of any street passing between the houses, and affording perpetual change and twinkling and reflections moreover by its sleepy murmur, soothing all the dwellers here, this and the snugness of the position walled with rock and spread with herbage, made it look in the quiet moonlight, like a little paradise, and to think of all the inmates there sleeping with good consciences, having plied their useful trade of making others work for them, enjoying life without much labour, yet with great renown. Master Charlie went down the village, and I followed him carefully, keeping as much as possible in the shadowy places, and watching the windows of every house lest any light should be burning. As I passed Sir Ensor's house, my heart leaped up, for I spied a window higher than the rest above the ground, and with a faint light moving. This could hardly fail to be the room wherein my darling lay, for here that impudent young fellow had gazed while he was whistling, and here my courage grew tenfold, and my spirit feared no evil. For lo, if Lorna had been surrendered to that scoundrel carver, she would not have been at her grandfather's house, but in carvers a curse dwelling. Warm with this idea I hurried after Charlworth Dune, being resolved not to harm him now, unless my own life required it. And while I watched from behind a tree, the door of the father's house was opened, and sure enough it was carver's self who stood bare-headed and half undressed in the doorway. I could see his great black chest and arms by the life of a lampy ball. Who wants me this time of night? he grumbled in a deep gruff voice, and a young scamp prowling after the maid shall have sore bones for his trouble. All the fair maids are for thee, aren't they, Master Carver? Charlie answered, laughing. We young scamps must be well content with coarser stuff than thou wouldst have. Would have, I, and will have, the great beast muttered angrily. I bide my time, but not very long. Only one word for thy good, Charlie. I will fling thee senseless into the river if ever I catch thy girl face there again. May hap, Master Carver, it is more than thou couldst do. But I will not keep thee, thou art not pleasant company to-night. All I want is a light for my lantern, and a glass of snaps if thou hast it. What is the calm of thy light, then? Good for thee, I am not on duty. A great hour flew between me and Phelps, as we watched beside the coal-burn, and so scared was he at our fierce bright eyes that he fell and knocked the light out. Likely tiled, or likely lied, Charles, we will have the truth tomorrow. Here, take thy light, and be gone with thee. All virtuous men are in bed now. Then so will I be, and why art thou not? Ha, have I earned my snaps now? If thou hast, thou hast paid a bad debt, there is too much in thee already. Be off, my patience is done with. Then he slammed the door in the young man's face, having kindled his lantern by this time, and Charlie went up to the watch-place again, muttering as he passed me. Bad look out for all of us when that surly old beast is captain. No gentle blood in him, no hospitality, not even pleasant language, nor a good new oath in his frowsy pate. Of a mind to cut the whole of it, and but for the girls I would so. My heart was in my mouth, as they say, when I stood in the shade of Lorna's window and whispered her name gently. The house was of one story only, as the others were, with pine ends standing forth a stone, and only two rough windows upon that western side of it, and perhaps both of them were Lorna's. The dunes had been their own builders, for no one should know their ins and outs, and of course their work was clumsy. As for their windows, they stole them mostly from the houses round about, but though the window was not very close, I might have whispered long enough before she would have answered me, frightened as she was, no doubt by many a rude overture. And I durst not speak aloud, because I saw another watchman posted on the western cliff and commanding all the valley. And now this man, having no companion for drinking or for gambling, aspired me against the wall of the house, and advanced to the brink and challenged me. Who are you there? Answer! One, two, three, and I fire at thee. The nozzle of his gun was pointed full upon me as I could see, with the moonlight striking on the barrel. He was not more than fifty yards off, and now he began to reckon. Being almost desperate about it, I began to whistle, wondering how far I should get before I lost my windpipe, and as luck would have it my lips fell into that strange tune I had practised last, the one I had heard from Charlie. My mouth would scarcely frame the notes being parched with terror, but to my surprise the man fell back, dropped his gun, and saluted. Oh, sweetest of all sweet melodies! That tune was Carver Dune's Passport, as I heard long afterwards, which Charlworth Dune had imitated for Decoy of Lorna. The sentinel took me for that vile Carver, who was like enough to be prowling there for private talk with Lorna, but not very likely to shout forth his name if it might be avoided. The watchman, perceiving the danger perhaps of intruding on Carver's privacy, not only retired along the cliff, but withdrew himself to good distance. Meanwhile he had done me the kindest service, for Lorna came to the window at once to see what the cause of the shout was, and drew back the curtain timidly. Then she opened the rough lattice, and then she watched the cliff and trees, and then she sighed very sadly. Oh Lorna, don't you know me! I whispered from the side, being afraid of startling her by appearing over suddenly. Quick as she always was, I thought, she knew me not from my whisper, and was strutting the window hastily when I caught it back and showed myself. John! she cried, yet with sense enough not to speak aloud. Oh, you must be mad, John! As mad as a March Hare said I, without any news of my darling, you knew I would come, of course you did. Well, I thought, perhaps, you know, now John, you need not eat my hand. Do you see they have put iron bars across? To be sure. Do you think I should be contented, even with this lovely hand, but for these vile iron bars? I will have them out before I go. Now darling, for one moment, just the other hand, for a change, you know. So I got the other, but was not honest, for I kept them both, and felt their delicate beauty trembling as I lay them to my heart.  You know we can never have one another, everyone is against it. Why should I make you miserable? Try not to think of me any more. And will you try the same of me, Lorna? Oh, yes, John, if you agree to it. At least, I will try to try it. Then you won't try anything of the sort, I cried, with great enthusiasm, for her tone was so nice and melancholy. The only thing we will try to try is to belong to one another, and if we do our best, Lorna, God alone can prevent us. She crossed herself, with one hand drawn free as I spoke so boldly, and something swelled in her little throat and prevented her from answering. Now tell me, I said, what means all this? Why are you so pent up here? Why have you given me no token? Has your grandfather turned against you? Are you in any danger? My poor grandfather is very ill. I fear that he will not live long. The counselor and his son are now the masters of the valley, and I dare not venture forth for fear of anything they might do to me. When I went forth to signal for you, Carver tried to seize me, but I was too quick for him. Little Gweny is not allowed to leave the valley now, so that I could send no message. I have been so wretched, dear, lest you should think me false to you. The tyrants now make sure of me. You must watch this house, both night and day, if you wish to save me. There is nothing they would shrink from, if my poor grandfather— Oh, I cannot bear to think of myself when I ought to think of him only, dying without a son to tend him, or a daughter to shed a tear. But surely he has sons enough, and to deal too many, I was going to say, but stop myself in time. Why do none of them come to him? I know not. I cannot tell. He is a very strange old man, and few have ever loved him. He was black with wrath at the counselor this very afternoon. But I must not keep you here. You are much too brave, John, and I am much too selfish. Dear, what was that shadow? Nothing more than a bat, darling, come to look for his sweetheart. I will not stay long. You tremble so, and yet for that very reason, how can I leave you, Lorna? You must. You must, she answered. I shall die if they hurt you. I hear the old nurse moving. Grandfather is sure to send for me. Keep back from the window. However, it was only Gweny Carfax, Lorna's little handmaid. My darling brought her to the window and presented her to me, almost laughing through her grief. Oh, he am so glad, John. Gweny, I am so glad you came. I have wanted long to introduce you to my young man, as you call him. It is rather dark, but you can see him. I wish you to know him again, Gweny. Oi!" cried Gweny, with great amazement, standing on tiptoe to look out and staring as if she were weighing me. Her be bigger nor any dune. Here does her have bet our Cornish champion a-rassling. Twadden fair play, know how? No, no, don't tell me. Twadden fair play, know how? True enough, Gweny, I answered her, for the play had been very unfair indeed on the side of the Bodman champion. It was not a fair bout, little maid. I am free to acknowledge that. Without answer, or rather by the construction she put upon it, the heart of the Cornish girl was one, more than by gold or silver. I shall knew thee again, young man, no fear of that, she answered, nodding with an air of patronage. Now, Mrs. Gayon Cawton, and I will gay outside and watch for thee. Though expressed not over delicately, this proposal arose, no doubt, from Gweny's sense of delicacy, and I was very thankful to her for taking her departure. She is the best little thing in the world, said Lorna, softly laughing, and the queerest and the truest. Nothing will bribe her against me, if she seems to be on the other side, never, never doubt her. Now, no more of your courton, John. I love you far too well for that. Yes, yes, ever so much. If you will, take a mean advantage of me, and as much as ever you like to imagine, and then you may double it after that. Only go, do go, good John, kind, dear, darling John, if you love me, go. How can I go without settling anything, I asked, very sensibly. How shall I know of your danger now?  I have been thinking long of something, Lorna answered rapidly, with that peculiar clearness of voice which makes every syllable ring like music of a several note. You see that tree with the seven rook's nest bright against the cliffs there, can you count them from above, do you think, from a place where you will be safe, dear? No doubt I can, or if I cannot, it will not take me long to find a spot once I can do it. Gweny can climb like any cat. She has been up there in the summer, watching the young birds day by day and daring the boys to touch them. There are neither birds nor eggs there now, of course, and nothing doing. If you see but six rook's nest, I am in peril and want you. If you see but five, I am carried off by carver. Good God! said I, the mere idea in a tone which frightened Lorna. Fear not, John, she whispered sadly, and my blood grew cold at it. I have means to stop him, or at least to save myself. If you can come within one day of that man's getting hold of me, you will find me quite unharmed. After that you will find me dead, or alive, according to circumstances, but in no case such that you need blush to look at me. Her dear sweet face was full of pride, as even in the gloom I saw, and I would not trespass on her feelings by such a thing at such a moment as an attempted any caress. I only said, God bless you, darling, and she said the same to me in a very low, sad voice. And then I stole below carver's house and the shadow from the eastern cliff, and knowing enough of the village now to satisfy all necessity, but took myself to my well-known track in returning from the valley, which is neither down the waterslide, of course, I feared in the darkness, nor up the cliffs at Lorna's Bower, but a way of my own inventing, which there is no need to dwell upon. A weight of care was off my mind, though much of trouble hung there still. One thing was quite certain. If Lorna could not have John Redd, no one else should have her. And my mother, who sat up for me and with me a long time afterwards, agreed that this was comfort. End of Chapter thirty-seven. Read by Landy, in Sydney, Australia, September two thousand and eight. Chapter thirty-eight of Lorna Dune. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Lorna Dune by R. D. Blackmore. Chapter thirty-eight. A good turn for Jeremy. John Fryer had now six shillings a week of regular and permanent wage, besides all harvests and shearing-money, as well as a cottage rent-free, and enough of garden-ground to rare pot-herbs for his wife and all his family. Now the wages appointed by our justices at the time of sessions were four and six months a week for summer, and a shilling less for the winter time, and we could be fined, and perhaps imprisoned, for giving more than the sum so fixed. Therefore John Fryer was looked upon as the richest man upon Exmoor, I mean, of course, among labourers, and there were many jokes about robbing him, as if he were the mint of the king, and Tom Fathers promised to try his hand if he came across John on the highway, although he had ceased from business and was seeking a royal pardon. Now is it according to human nature, or is it a thin contradictory, as I would fain believe? But anyhow, there was, upon Exmoor, no more discontented man, no man more sure that he had not his worth, neither half so sore about it, than, as all John Fryer was. And one thing he did, which I could not wholly, or indeed I may say in any measure, reconcile with my sense of right, much as I laboured to do John Justice, especially because of his roguery, and this was that if we said too much, or accused him at all of laziness, which he must have known to be in him, he regularly turned round upon us, and quite compelled us to hold our tongues, by threatening to lay information against us for paying him too much wages. Now I have not mentioned all this of John Fryer, for many disrespect for his memory, which is green and honest among us, far less for many desire to hurt the feelings of his grandchildren, and I will do them the justice once for all, to avow, thus publicly, that I have known a great many bigger rogues, and most of themselves in the number. But I have referred with moderation to this little flaw in a worthy character, or foible, as we call it, when a man is dead, for this reason only, that, without it, there was no explaining John's dealings with Jeremy Stickles. Master Jeremy, being full of London and Norwich experience, fell into the error of supposing that we, clods and yokels, were the simplest of the simple, and could be cheated at his good pleasure. Now this is not so. When once we suspect that people have that idea of us, we indulge them in it to the top of their bent, and greed that they should come out of it as they do at last in amazement, with less money than before, and the laugh now set against them. Ever since I had offended Jeremy by threatening him, as before related, in the case of his meddling with my affairs, he had more and more allied himself with simple-minded John, as he was pleased to call him. John Fryer was everything. It was run and fetched my horse, John. John, are my pistols primed well? I want you in the stable, John, about something very particular. Until, except for the rudeness of it, I was longing to tell Master Stickles that he ought to pay John's wages. John, for his part, was not backward, but gave himself the most wonderful heirs of secrecy and importance, till half the parish began to think that the affairs of the nation were in his hand, and he scorned the sight of a dung-fork. It was not likely that this should last, and being the only man in the parish with any knowledge of politics, I gave John Fryer to understand that he must not presume to talk so freely, as if he were at least a constable about the constitution, which could be no affair of his, and might bring us all into trouble. At this he only tossed his nose, as if he had been in London at least three times for my one, which vexed me so that I promised him the sick end of the plough-whip, of even the name of a knight of the shy I should pass his lips for a fortnight.  However, it appears that John related, for a certain consideration, all that he had seen, and doubtless more which had accrued to it. Upon this Master Stickles was much astonished at Uncle Ruben's proceedings, having always accounted him a most loyal, keen, and wary subject. All this I learned upon recovering Jeremy's good graces, which came to pass in no other way than by the saving of his life. Being bound to keep the strictest watch upon the seven rook's-nests, and yet not bearing to be idle and to waste my mother's stores, I contrived to keep my work entirely at the western corner of our farm, which was nearest to Glen Dune, and whence I could easily run to a height commanding the viewer coveted. One day Squire Faggis had dropped in upon us, just in time for dinner, and very soon he and King's Messenger were as thick as need be. Tom had brought his beloved mare to show her off to Annie, and he mounted his pretty sweetheart upon her, after giving Winnie notice to be on her very best behaviour. The Squire was in great spirits, having just accomplished the purchase of land which is worth ten times what he gave for it, and this he did by a merry trick upon old Sir Roger Basset, he never supposed him to be an earnest as not possessing the money. The whole thing was done on a bumper of claret in a tavern where they met, and the old knight, having once pledged his word, no lawyers could hold him back from it. They could only say that Master Faggis, being a tainted of felony, was not a capable grantee. I will soon cure that, quoth Tom, my pardon has been ready for months and months so soon as I care to sue it. And now he was telling our Annie he listened very rosely and believed every word he said, that having been ruined in early innocence by the means of lawyers it was only just, and fair turn for turn, that having become a match for them by long practice upon the highway, he should reinstate himself at their expense in society. And now he would go to London at once and sue out his pardon, and then would his lovely darling Annie, etc., etc., things which I had no right to hear, and in which I was not wanted. Therefore I strayed away up the land to my afternoon's employment, sadly comparing my love with theirs, which now appeared so prosperous, yet heartily glad for Annie's sake, only remembering now and then the old proverb, wrong never comes right. I worked very hard in the cops of young Ash, with my billhawk and a shearing-knife, cutting out the saplings where they stalled too close together, making spars to keep for thatching, war crooks to drive into the cob, styles for close sheep-herdals and handles for rakes and hoes and tubills of the larger and straighter staff. And all the lesser I bound into fathets to come home on the sled to the wood-rick. It is not to be supposed that I did all this work without many peeps at the seven rook's-ness, which proved my lawn as safety. Indeed, whenever I wanted to change either from cleaving or hewing too hard or stooping too much at binding, I was up and away to the ridge of the hill, instead of standing and doing nothing. Soon I forgot about Tom and Annie, and fell to thinking of Lorna only, and how much I would make of her, and what I should call our children, and how I would educate them to do honour to her rank. Yet all the time I worked none the worse by reason of meditation. Fresh-cut spars are not so good as those of a little seasoning, especially if the sap was not gone down at the time of cutting. Therefore we always find it needful to have plenty still in stock. It was very pleasant there in the coops, sloping to the west as it was, and the sun descending brightly, with rocks and banks to dwell upon. The stems of mottled and dimpled wood, with twigs coming out like elbows, hung and clung together closely, with a mode of bending in as children do at some danger. Overhead the shrunken leaves quibbled and rustled ripely, having many points like stars, and rising and falling delicately as fingers play sad music. Along the bed of the slanting ground, all between the stools of wood, there were heaps of dead-brown leaves and sheltered mats of lichen, and drifts of spotted stick-gone rotten, and tufts of rushes here and there full of fray and feathering. All by the hedge of in a little stream, a thing that could barely name itself, flowing scarce more than a pint in a minute because of the sunny weather. Yet had this real little crooks and crannies dark and bravely bearded, and a gallant rush through a reed and pipe, the stem of a flower that was grounded, and here and there divided threads from the point of a branching-stick into mighty pool of rock, as large as a grown man's heart almost, napped with moss all around the sides and hung with corded grasses. Along and down the tiny banks and nodding into one another, even across main channel, hung the brown arcade of ferns, some with gold tongues languishing, some with countless eardrops jerking, some with great quilled ribs uprising and long sores of flapping, others cupped and fanning over with the grace of yielding, even as a hollow fountain spread by winds that have lost their way. Deeply each beyond other, blooming, stooping, glancing, glistening, weaving softest pillow lace, coying to the wind and water where their fleeting image danced, or by which their beauty moved, God has made no lovelier thing, and only he takes heed of them. It was time to go home to supper now, and I felt very friendly towards it, having been hard at work for some hours, with only the voice of the little rill and some hares and a pheasant for company. The sun was gone down behind the black wood on the further cliffs of Bagwerty, and the russet of the tufts and spear-beds was becoming grey, while the greyness of the sapling ash grew brown against the sky. The hollow curves of the little stream became black beneath the grasses and the furry ferns innumerable. While outside the hedge, our clover was crimping its leaves in the dew-fall, like the cocked huts of wood-sorrow. When, thanking God for all this scene, because my love had gifted me with the key to all things lovely, I prepared to follow their example and to rest from labour. Therefore I waved my bill-hook and shearing-knife very carefully, for I hate to leave tools dirty, and was doubting whether I should try for another glance at the seven rook's-nests, or whether it would be too dark for it. It was now a quarter of an hour, may-hap, since I had made any chopping-noise because I had been assorting my spars and tying them in bundles instead of playing the bill-hook, and the gentle tinkle of the stream was louder than my doings. To this no doubt I owe my life, which then, without my dreaming it, was in no little jeopardy. For, just as I was twisting the bind of my very last faggot before tucking the cleft tongue under, there came three men outside the hedge where the western light was yellow, and by it I could see that all three of them carried firearms. These men were not walking carelessly, but following down the hedge-choff as if to stalk some enemy, and for a moment it struck me cold to think it was I they were looking for. With a swiftness of terror I concluded that my visits to Glen Dune were known, and now my life was the forfeit. It was a most lucky thing for me that I heard their clothes catch in the brambles and saw their huts under the rampart of ash, which is made by what we call splashing, and lucky for me that I stood in a goyle and had the dark coppers behind me. To this I had no time to fly, but with a sort of instinct threw myself flat in among the thick fern and held my breath and lay still as a log, for I had seen the light gleam on their gun-barrels, and knowing the faults of the neighbourhood would feign avoid swelling their number. Then the three men came to the gap in the hedge where I had been in and out so often, and stood up and looked in over. It is all very well for a man to boast that in all his life he has never been frightened, and believes that he never could be so. There may be men of that nature. I will not dare to deny it, only I have never known them. The fright I was now in was horrible, and all my bones seemed to creep inside me when lying there helpless with only a billet in the comb of fern to hide me in the dusk of early evening. I saw three faces in the gap, and what was worse, three gun-muzzles. Somebody been at work here. It was the deep voice of Carver Dune. Jump up, Charlie, and look about. We must have no witnesses. Give me a hand behind, Sir Charlie, the same handsome young Dune I had seen that night. This bank is too devilish steep for me. Nonsense, man! cried Marwa de Wickerhuyser, who to my amazement was the third of the number.  Blind man's holiday, as we call it, I can see all over the place, and there is not even a rabbit there.  Squire is right, said Charlie. He was standing up high on a root, perhaps. There is nobody there now, Captain, and lucky for the poor devil that he keeps at workman's hours. Even his chopper is gone, I see. No dog, no man is the rule about here when it comes to coppers' work, continued young de Wickerhuyser. There is not a man with dare work there without a dog to scare the pixies. There is a big young fellow upon this farm, Carvedon muttered so clearly, with whom I have an account to settle if ever I come across him. He has a cursed spite to us, because we shot his father. He was going to bring the lumpers upon us, only he was a feared last winter. And he has been in London lately for some traitorous job, I doubt. Oh, you mean that fool, John Rid, answered the young Squire, her very simple Claudehopper. No treachery in him I warrant, he has not the head for it. All he cares about is wrestling, as strong as a bull, and with no more brains. A bullet for that bull, said Carver, and I could see the grin on his scornful face. A bullet for ballast to his brain the first time I came across him. Nonsense, Captain, I won't have him shot, for he is my old school fellow, and has a very pretty sister. But his cousin is of a different mould, and ten times as dangerous. We shall see, lads, we shall see, grumbled the great black-bearded man, ill-boards for the fool that would hinder me. But come, let us onward, no lingering, or the wiper will be in the bush from us. Body and soul, if he give us the slip, both of you shall answer it. No fear, Captain, and no hurry, Charlie answered gallantly. What I wear is sure of living a twelve months, as he is of dying within the hour. Extreme unction for him in my bullet-patch. Remember, I claim to be his confessor, because he hath insulted me. Thou art welcome to the job for me, said Marwood, as they turned away, and kept along the hedgerow. I love to meet a man sword to sword, not to pop at him from a foxhole. What answer was made I could not hear, for by this time the start-atten-head was between us, and no other gap to be found in it, until at the very bottom where the corner of the cops was. Yet was I not queer to danger now, for there might come through that second gap, and then would be sure to see me, unless I crept into the uncut sticket, before they could enter the clearing. But in spite of all my fear, I was not wise enough to do that. In truth, the words of Carver Dune had filled me with such anger, knowing what I did about him, and his pretence to launder, and the sight of Squire Marwood in such outrageous company, had so moved my curiosity, and their threats against some unknown person so aroused my pity, that much of my prudence was forgotten, or at least the better part of courage, which loves danger at long distance. Therefore, holding fast my bill-hook, I dropped myself very quietly into the bed of the runnel, being resolved to take my chance of their entrance at the corner, where the water dived through the hedgerow. And so I followed them down the fence, as gently as a rabbit goes. Only I was inside it, and they on the outside, but yet so near that I heard the branches rustle as they pushed them. Perhaps I had never loved Fern so much, as when I came to the end of that little gully, and stooped betwixt two patches of them, now my chiefest shelter, the cattle had been through the garp just there, in quest of fodder and coolness, and had left but a mound of trodden earth between me and the outlaws. I mean at least in my left hand, upon which side there were, for in front, where the brook went out of the copse, was a good stiff hedge of holly. And now I prayed heaven to lead them straight on, for if they once turned to their right through the garp, the muzzles of their guns would come almost against my forehead. I heard them, for I dost not look, and could scarce keep still for trembling. I heard them trampling outside the garp, uncertain which track they should follow. And in that fearful moment, with my soul almost looking out of my body, expecting notice to quit it, what do you think I did? I counted the threads in a spider's web, and the flies he had lately eaten as their skeleton shook in the twilight. We shall see him better in there, said Carver, in his horrible gruff voice like the creaking of the gallows chain. Sit there, behind holly-hedged lads, while he cometh down yonder hill. And then our good evening to him, one at his body and two at his head, and good aim lest we balk the devil. I tell you, captain, that will not do, said Charley, almost whispering. You are very proud of your skill, we know, and can hit a lark if you see it. But he may not come until after dark, and we cannot be too nigh to him. This holly-hedge is too far away. He crosses down here from Slocum's laid, not from Tubercott, I tell you. But along that track to the left there, and so by the full land, the glen zone where his boat is in the cove. Do you think I have attract him so many evenings without knowing his line to a hair, will you fall away all my trouble? Come then, lad, we will follow thy laid, thy life for his if we fail of it. After me then, right into the hollow, thy legs are growing stiff, captain. So shall thy body be, young man, if thou leadest me astray in this. I heard them stumbling down the hill, which was steep and rocky in that part, and peering through the hedge I saw the mentor a covert by the side of the track which Master Sickles followed almost every evening when he left her house upon business. And then I knew who it was that would come on purpose to murder, a thing which I might have guessed long before but for terror and cold stupidity. O that God, I thought for a moment, waiting for my blood to flow, O that God had given me brains to meet such cruel dastards according to their villainy, the power to lie and the love of it, the stealth to spy and the glory in it, above all the quiet relish for blood and joy and death of an enemy. These are what any man must have to contend with the dunes upon even terms. And yet I thank God that I have not any of these. It was no time to dwell upon that, only to try if might be to prevent the crime they were bound upon.  It seemed to me that my only chance to stop the mischief pending was to compass the round of the hill as fast as feet could be laid to ground, only keeping out of sight from the valley, and then down the rocks and across the brook to the truck from Slocum Slade, so as to stop the king's messenger from travelling any further, if only I could catch him there. And this was exactly what I did, and a terrible run I had for it, fearing at every step to hear the echo of shots in the valley and dropping down the scrubby rocks with tearing and violent scratching. Then I crossed Bagwerly Stream, not far below Dune Valley, and breasted the hill towards Slocum Slade, with my heart very heavily panting. Why Jeremy chose to ride this way instead of the more direct one, which would have been over all our hill, was more than I could account for, but I had nothing to do with that, all I wanted was to save his life. And this I did by about a minute, and which was the hardest thing of all, with a great horse-pistol at my head as I seized upon his bridle. Jeremy, Jerry, was all I could say, being so fearfully short of breath for I had crossed the ground quicker than any horse could. Spoken just in time, John read, cried Master Stickles, still however pointing the pistol at me. I might have known nearby thy sighs, John. What art doing here? Come to save your life, for God's sake go no further. Three men in the covert there with long guns waiting for thee. Ha! I have been watched of late. That is why I pointed at thee, John. Back round this corner, and get thy breath, and tell me all about it. I never saw a man so horrid. I could beat thee now, John. Jeremy Stickles was a man of courage and presence of mind, and much resource, otherwise he would not have been appointed for this business. Nevertheless, he trembled greatly when he heard what I had to tell him. But I took good care to keep back the name of young Marwa De Wickerhalzer. Neither did I show my knowledge of the other men, for reasons of my own not very hard to conjecture. We will let them call their heels, John rid, said Jeremy, after thinking a little. I cannot fetch my musketeers either from Glenthorn or Linnmouth in time to seize the fellows. And three desperate dunes, well armed, are too many for you and me. One result this attempt will have, and it will make us attack them sooner than we had intended. And one more it will have, good John. It will make me thy friend for ever. Shake hands, my lad, and forgive me freely for having been so cold to thee. May have been the troubles coming. It will help thee not a little to have done me this good turn. Upon that he shook me by the hand, with the pressure such as we feel not often. And having learned from me how to pass quite beyond view of his enemies, he rode under his duty, whatever it might be. For my part I was inclined to stay, and watch how long the three fuseliers would have the patience to lie in wait. But seeing less and less use in that, as I grew more and more hungry, I swung my coat about me, and went home to Plover's Burrows. End of Chapter 38, read by Landy in Sydney, Australia, October 2008


Veliko, sveča. Tukaj je tukaj. Tukaj je tukaj najbolj v engličkih. In... Včetno. OK. In sem včetno, da tegaš nekaj idej. Oh. Now I want to talk about my method to sleep better during the night with no car regarding hacked web site. Here the download link for my presentation preview. Just a quick word about me. My name is Maurizio Pelicone and I'm a very proud WordPress developer. So before starting, let's take a step backwards and ask ourselves what is hardening? If someone doesn't know the meaning of this word, this is a definition from Wikipedia. Hardening is a process of securing a system by reducing its surface of vulnerability. I think that WordPress hardening is an estimated problem and many projects after Go Live are left in the large without love. So the next topic is why. Why within hardening? The answer for me is very simple. All systems are vulnerable. Full secure systems don't exit. Another important thing to remember is that the biggest used platform is the biggest target to attack. So, now let's look the danger. I'm going to start with my list of what I think are the five most important dangers. Number one, human errors. In most case, the things we forget to do, such as forget to remove the admin user or move your old password to a strong password, such as forget to update your system. Number two, exploitation. This is a technique to use a sequence of command to take advance of vulnerability to penetrate in your website. Number three, social engineering. The technique to collect your personal information and use it against you. Number four, brute force attack. You need to know that many automated systems exit the try to access to your login.  Believe me or look at your access log. Number one, write permission. If you don't want that anyone is allowed to put a backdoor in your WordPress installation, ask yourself, do you really need to have all your directories 777? So, now let's move to the solution. Okay, maybe this is not the right solution. I think it's better to say my approach, some simple life-saving improvements that are achievable with a very little effort and can make really the difference. A wise man could sum up my approach in this sentence. We are not all security experts, but anyone can reduce some vulnerability. One word yet, the most important things. Remember to keep your WordPress updated because without care, any tips are useless. Okay, now let's move to my 10-step countdown. Test your backup. The key point is test your backup because it's obvious you have a backup. You need to test before a disaster. You have to do it in a fast way. You must be sure to have all you need to recover. If you don't have a backup, you can use one of those. If you don't want to use one of these plug-in, it's not a problem. Do it by hand. Ask your sis admin, ask your provider, but you must have a backup and test a complete restore. Prevent user enumeration. The key word is prevent WordPress to show user name information for the user that have a login in your website of course unless you need to have a user page. Try, try now, try to write in your browser one of this link. If in your, you can read a user name, maybe you have a problem. In this way now anyone can know all the user is able to login in your system. You can stop with these two lines to put in your eight t-assets. User permission, the key is to limit the role to the absolute minimum. Not all user have to be as administrator. WordPress has many built-in role definitions such as contributor, author and editor. Remember to assign only the necessary role. Here I want to show that we can set no permission for the user that don't need it. Standard admin user name can be set to null. I your login, the majority of site don't need have a public login page. So you can hide the assess and move it to customer like this is my login page. Here an example of how you can do it. Put this code in your eight t-assets and remember to change the key. WP login, WP login, unlikely is not the only way to login in your system. After reading an assess log maybe you will find a lot of asex to XMLRPC. If you don't need to use WordPress.com or WordPress mobile app, you can forbid to use in this way with this code to put in your eight t-assets. Don't show error. When you can hide login, maybe you can hide some error information. Here the key is don't show unnecessary info. When you digit wrong login you don't need to know if the error is the username of the password. In your page you don't need to know which WordPress version is running. In your site you don't need to keep the readme page visable and you can forbid the assess using this line in your eight t-assets. Deny PHP execution. I think that in apload directory PHP execution is not important. In apload directory there should be only media file like image, documents and phones. No PHP file, no PHP vector file. Put this line, put this file inside your apload directory and PHP will no longer be executed. I told a little lie. In this code we don't deny PHP execution, but allow only some kind of file like image, docs and phones. Threshable plugin. Thresh, remove, delete plugin is a good practice. Less is more. This is my checklist. Remove inactive plugin. Remove userless or duplicate plugin. For the bravest you can try to integrate some plugin functionally inside your team. But remember this mantra, less is more, less is more. But when a wannabe user is able to install new plugin while you sleep, your breakfast is not gonna be so great. For this reason if you want to keep the control, you can disable automatic installation. Here the line to put in your WP config. Use secure password. Password is a problem. Password is always a big problem.  But in a normal world we must not be lazy and be brave to use very strong password. This is a tip for memorizable and unforgettable password. You have to use phrase, number and symbol. And mix uppercase and lowercase. Custom directory. Another unknown awesome WordPress feature.  I explain better with an example. This is a standard structure with the login page is always in the same place. What's happen? If I move my WordPress installation in this way, the first achievement is the automatic bot that try to use brute force, that try to use brute force attack with fail. Another thing is this structure I think is more lovely and you can do more efficient deploy. Here the code to put in your WP config. The last one. Blackhole. One of my favorite tips. Blackhole is a way to set a trap for common ur. One simple example. If you moved your login page from group to customer login ur, well, who is it that keep on going to WP login? Maybe it's someone who should not be there. How does it work? The blackhole watch some kind link, lockdp and blockassess. The implementation is a little bit technical, but you can find more info at perishablepress.com. Are you still alive? OK, great. For those of you who don't like to put your hand under the hood, here I really made a plugin that can do the dirty work for you, but now you can use them with more understanding about what they do. This is security, warfronts and item security. OK, I have to go. Last but not least, this is some link to deal deeper. Thanks for listening and being so patient with my terrible English.


Thank you all so much for being here to celebrate our official grand ribbon cutting of the President Cafe by the Food Academy. I'm gonna turn it over to the mayor really quick. Well I'm sorry to Amy really quickly for some remarks I'm sorry.  And with that I will turn it over to the Honorable Daniel Rickerman our mayor of this wonderful city. Thank you. It's another great day in the city of Columbia so excited to be here and having y'all do this now. I do have a few menu suggestions you know that some incredible foods in our community we need to make sure we highlight in there on some daily specials but to have this here in our museum and in the city of Columbia and obviously the state capital South Carolina is a great honor and coming in today all I could smell was this great food behind us so this is going to be a real real gem as we like to say in Columbia and so excited for this opportunity to be part of this but also for you to have this grand opening and really showcase the talent behind that counter to those folks here in Columbia South Carolina. With that I'm going to turn it over to our spotlight. Thank you so much for being here. It is indeed an honor to have this opportunity. Thank you for my family for being here. I'm excited. Let's cut the ribbon.


Something like that happened to me, you know. I'm not exactly sure what it was, sometimes I remember one way, sometimes another. If I'm gonna have a past, I'd prefer it to be multiple choice. The Joker. The Killing Joke. Welcome to Episode 004 of The Foundation. Today we're gonna examine a concept that's not unique to the SCP Wiki, but quite rare in shared fictional universes. The idea that there is no canon. If I sound a little different today, it's because I've had a bit of a cough for the last month or so. I'm well enough now to record, but you're gonna notice my voice is fairly rough. Still, I wanted to go ahead and get this out. As always, the majority of this podcast necessarily includes my own opinions and thoughts about the Foundation and the SCP Wiki. After all, there's only one real rule in the SCP universe. There is no canon. And now we're gonna talk about what that means. Part 1. There is no canon. The first experiment when the subject proved uneventful, with routine medical examinations revealing no untoward effects. When the subject returned to their quarters after debriefing, however, it appeared to them that their furniture had been altered, which they reported in keeping with standard procedure. No evidence could be found to support their claim. Consequently, the subject seemed confused about their shifts of duty when they were scheduled and to whom they were to report. After the second experiment, the subject appeared alarmed and confused. The laboratory where testing had taken place seemed to change to them. The subject also professed that personnel appeared to be missing while others were completely unfamiliar. Interrogation of the subject showed that they were in the possession of drastically different memories, encompassing such areas as diverse as their personal history. The nature of foundation assets, and the historical record. At first it was assumed that the artifact had in some unknown way affected their mind. Interrogation of the subject, however, showed that their memories were extraordinarily detailed and self-consistent. Furthermore, the subject demonstrated knowledge of classified material, to which they could not possibly have been exposed. SCP-1968 Global Retrocausality Taurus By Requite Fahrenheit SCPs do not all exist in the same universe. There can only be so many ends of the world, after all. But SCP articles are often interlinked in some way, and certainly have the same basic ideas. So how does the Wiki deal with such blatant contradiction? By settling on the mantra, there is no canon. This is perhaps most aptly demonstrated by the 001 proposals. Many of them are blatantly contradictory. The page which houses them says that the content could all be true, none of it could be true, or some of it could be true. As a writer, this mantra is designed to give you options. There's a basic framework to SCP Foundation works. A secret organization exists which keeps anomalous objects out of public view. And that's about it. Let's take D-Class, the disposable testing staff, as an example of a differing detail. Are they death row prisoners from the US? Political prisoners from third world countries? Clones? Alien refugees? For the context of most articles, it couldn't matter less, but if you want to write an article that dives into what the D-Class are, you can. And there are people who certainly will be bothered if their idea of what a D-Class is is challenged. But the best rule of thumb is this. Write it well, and no one will care how different from the baseline it is. All these stories, unless otherwise noted, exist in their own universe. And that means they can be whatever you want them to be. Of course, not all works are independent. Some explicitly reference the other, especially early on in the Wiki's history. SCP-073 and SCP-076 are literally cane-enable. Take one of the SCP-500 Cure All Pills, put it in SCP-963 on Fine, and you get SCP-427. The idea of no canon does not preclude interconnected SCPs, in fact, it encourages it. This as to you is this. When something is interconnected, it exists in the same universe. When it contradicts what you know, it exists in its own universe, away from the contradictory elements. The freedom to build your own world exists because of this, and build them we have. Part 2 Infinite Canons A voice normally silent spoke, and it's simple enough, we vote, as is proper, yes? The gathered council nodded silently to the one in charge. All opposed to 12 retiring. Hens went up, 7, 5, 8, 9, 4. Eight looked expectantly at the others, as Glare intensified, when they clearly did not move. All in favor, 6 and 2 shot up like they were fired out of a cannon, both eager to support their… friend? Nine's hand raised at a more sedate pace. 11 wobbled, then shook her head. She wouldn't support, but she wouldn't negate. 12 moved to raise his hand, then lowered it again at a glare from 1. Clearly his own vote would not count. 3 shook his head in negation. Had no dog in this fight. 10 was clearly deep in thought, but her hand rose as well. To the shock of all, one's hand rose. 5 to 5, 8 said. The ties go to the opposing side, you stay. 12 sat there, his gaze locked on the table, as if all his broken dream were laid open there. Until someone coughed behind him, 12 didn't move, just watched as the eyes around the table both lit up, in the case of his supporters and squinted shut, in the case of his detractors. He didn't need to turn around to know who would be there with his hand raised. 12 no more, jumped from his chair, spun around to grasp the hand of the tall, lanky man behind him and pumped it vigorously. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You're welcome. 13 pried his hand away, and held out a small box to the first ever retired overseer. I hope you don't mind, but I got you a watch. I quit, by the Duckman. There are essentially a total of 12 major canons of the Bible, all of which exclude or include books of the Bible that are excluded or included from the other canons. When it comes to the Bible, what canon you follow depends on where you were raised and under what tradition. For the SCP Wiki, it's a bit simpler. As of this writing, the SCP Wiki has a total of 23 established canons. Some are large, Resurrection has a total of 45 pieces written in it, some are smaller, the oldest canon on the site, unfounded, has just 7 pieces written in it. Both of these exist with their own rules and structure. Resurrection is a kind of continuation of the looser interconnected canon of the site's earliest days, while unfounded takes a single conceit and runs with it. The rest of the SCP world is exactly the same, but the foundation was never founded. As you can imagine, these universes are drastically different and cannot coexist, but there are also canons, like Straight On Till Morning, co-founded by myself and von Penzier, for full transparency, which has this as a central conceit. The Earth has been transported to another solar system, but history and memories have been rewritten to match the new solar system, and we're going to follow the stories of the people who were off-world when it happened. These stories could take place concurrent with most of any of the other canons or with almost any SCP object you can name. The base requirements for something to qualify as an official site canon is simple, five tales by at least three different authors. The idea is that these works need to represent a concerted effort by multiple people to establish a shared universe, and for something that official it makes sense. But we're going to shift gears for a second because this is where it gets fun. The old mantra, there is no canon, has actually led to an infinite number of canons with each tale and SCP essentially its own story, with its own SCP foundation, its own groups of interests, and its own anomalies. It also means as a reader or writer that you can disregard the bits that you don't like and still be fine. This goes for all in-universe elements. If you find sarcasm silly, you can ignore it. If you feel like D-Class are paid well and treated kindly by the foundation, then that's how it is. If you think the ethics committee doesn't exist in the SCP universe, then it doesn't. And if you prefer the Church of the Broke God to the Church of the Broken God, then you get to decide that's how it is. A lot of writers will hate that, the idea that the universe their building can be disregarded at a whim isn't a fun idea, but ultimately it means that the best works and interpretations will win out. The prevailing notions of what is and isn't true in the SCP universe is settled by the voting module at the top of every page containing something that goes against the established concepts. If it's good enough, it won't matter how much it differs, and if people really enjoy it, they might start adopting the same ideas and form a new canon out of it, or it could become the new reality on the wiki. The possibilities, like the number of cannons, are endless. So now I'm going to suggest you several articles from Cannons I Enjoy. They're things I like, and therefore things that I think you'll like. That means that it's inevitable a little bit of favoritism is going to creep in. These will be things that I like. An explosion, a breach, and a girl with a gun. Read immediate actions from the resurrection canon by Dr. Everett Mann to find out what happens next. What happens when there's a hole between worlds and no foundation to keep it from the public? All things considered from the unfounded canon by Photosynthetic explains. The earth is gone, and the Russian ghost ships think it's our fault. Read All Long and The Watchtower, from Straight On Till Morning by Dr. Sumerian, which is me, for the first battle of the Foundation Space Forces. It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine. Read Apoct from Competitive Eschatology by the Deadly Moose if you're not fine with it. The SCP Foundation has underestimated both humanity's survival instincts and the tenacity of the monsters that want to kill us. Read The List of Wonders from the Bellerverse canon by Dr. Everett Mann to see what the SCP verse looks like after the end. Site 88 has gone dark and the Gulf is aflame. Read The Prologue from the Gulf canon by Kate McTarras to see more. The Age of Containment is Ended. Read Welcome to History from A.I.A.D's canon by Sunny Clockwork if you'd like to experience the future. And if you want to explore the canon page on your own, check out the canon hub page. Links to all of this and more will be in the description. My name is Christopher Clayton Moores, though you may know me better under the pseudonym Dr. Sumerian. This podcast is licensed under a 4.0, share-alike, attribution, unported license. All written works from the SCP Wiki referenced in the podcast itself are under a Creative Commons 3.0, share-alike, attribution, unported license, including the following SCP-073, Cain, SCP-500, Pansia, and SCP-963, the Clockworks, all transferred to the Wiki by far too, SCP-076, Abel originally posted on the Wiki by an anonymous user, SCP-427 by Dr. Oros, the Church of the Broke God by Dr. Sumerian and DJ Cactus. This podcast contained the following audio works under a variety of licenses. A Human Being by Andy G. Cullen, off the 2016 album Through the Lens, licensed Creative Commons 4.0, attribution, unported, Journey by Bortex, off the 2017 album Courage, licensed Creative Commons 4.0, attribution, non-commercial, unported. The Introduction with No Word by Springtide, off the 2017 album Sounds Strange, Weird, but Unmistakably Romantic, Beta, licensed Creative Commons 4.0, attribution, non-commercial, share-alike, unported. Ladies, Take Me With You by Dr. Turtle, off the 2017 album The Double Down Two Step, licensed Creative Commons 4.0, attribution, non-commercial, unported. You're currently listening to Saltines by Pottington Bear, off the 2017 album Piano One, licensed Creative Commons 3.0, attribution, non-commercial, unported. Thanks for listening. The atoms or elementary particles themselves are not real. They form a world of potentialities or possibilities, rather than one of things or facts. Werner Heisenberg.