CHAPTER VI

  THE COMING OF THE ENGLISHMEN

  Now on hearing this Suzanne said, "Oh!" and sank back in her chair asthough she were going to faint; but I burst out laughing, half becauseRalph's impertinence tickled me and half at the sight of my husband'sface. Presently he turned upon me in a fine rage.

  "Be silent, you silly woman," he said. "Do you hear what that mad boysays? He says that he wants my daughter."

  "Well, what of it?" I answered. "Is there anything wonderful in that?Suzanne is of an age to be married and pretty enough for any young manto want her."

  "Yes, yes; that is true now I come to think of it," said Jan, pullinghis beard. "But, woman, he says that he wants to take her away withhim."

  "Ah!" I replied, "that is another matter. That he shall never do withoutmy consent."

  "No, indeed, he shall never do that," echoed Jan.

  "Suzanne," said I in the pause that followed, "you have heard all thistalk. Tell us, then, openly what is your mind in the matter."

  "My mind is, mother," she answered very quietly, "that I wish to obeyyou and my father in all things, as is my duty, but that I have a deeperduty towards Ralph whom God gave me out of the sea. Therefore, if yousend away Ralph without a cause, if he desires it I shall follow him assoon as I am of age and marry him, or if you keep me from him by forcethen I think that I shall die. That is all I have to say."

  "And quite enough, too," I answered, though in my heart I liked thegirl's spirit, and guessed that she was playing a part to prevent herfather from sending away Ralph against his will.

  "All this is pretty hearing," said Jan, staring from one to the other."Why, now that I think of it, I never heard that you two were more thanbrother and sister to each other. Say, you shameless girl, when did allthis come about, and why do you dare to promise yourself in marriagewithout my consent?"

  "Because there was no time to ask it, father," said Suzanne, lookingdown, "for Ralph and I only spoke together this morning."

  "He spoke to you this morning, and now it seems that you are ready toforsake your father and your mother and to follow him across the world,you wicked and ungrateful child."

  "I am not wicked and I am not ungrateful," answered Suzanne; "it is youwho are wicked, who want to send Ralph away and break all our hearts."

  "It is false, miss," shouted her father in answer, "for you know wellthat I do not want to send him away."

  "Then why did you tell him that he must go and take your roan horse andnew hat?"

  "For his own good, girl."

  "Is it for his own good that he should go away from all of us who lovehim and be lost across the sea?" and choking she burst into tears, whileher father muttered:

  "Why, the girl has become like a tiger, she who was milder than asheep!"

  "Hush, Suzanne," broke in Ralph, "and you who have been father andmother to me, listen I pray you. It is true that Suzanne and I love eachother very dearly, as we have always loved each other, though how muchwe did not know till this morning. Now, I am a waif and a castaway whomyou have nurtured, and have neither lands nor goods of my own, thereforeyou may well think that I am no match for your daughter, who is sobeautiful, and who, if she outlives you, will inherit all that you have.If you decide thus it is just, however hard it may be. But you tell me,though I have heard nothing of it till now, and I think that it may bebut idle talk, that I have both lands and goods far away in England,and you bid me begone to them. Well, if you turn me out I must go, forI cannot stay alone in the veldt without a house, or a friend, or ahoof of cattle. But then I tell you that when Suzanne is of age I shallreturn and marry her, and take her away with me, as I have a right todo if she desires it, for I will not lose everything that I love inthe world at one stroke. Indeed nothing but death shall part me fromSuzanne. Therefore, it comes to this: either you must let me stay hereand, poor as I am, be married to Suzanne when it shall please you, or,if you dismiss me, you must be ready to see me come back and take awaySuzanne."

  "Suzanne, Suzanne," I interrupted angrily, for I grew jealous of thegirl; "have you no thought or word, Ralph, for any save Suzanne?"

  "I have thoughts for all," he answered, "but Suzanne alone has thoughtfor me, since it seems that your husband would send me away, and you,mother, sit still and say not a word to stop him."

  "Learn to judge speech and not silence, lad," I answered. "Look you, allhave been talking, and I have shammed dead like a stink-cat when dogsare about; now I am going to begin. First of all, you, Jan, are a fool,for in your thick head you think that rank and wealth are everything toa man, and therefore you would send Ralph away to seek rank and wealththat may or may not belong to him, although he does not wish to go. Asfor you, Ralph, you are a bigger fool, for you think that Jan Botmar,your foster-father here, desires to be rid of you when in truth he onlyseeks your good to his own sore loss. As for you, Suzanne, you are thebiggest fool of all, for you wish to fly in everybody's face, like a catwith her first litter of kittens; but there, what is the use of arguingwith a girl in love? Now listen, and I will ask you some questions, allof you. Jan, do you wish to send Ralph away with these strangers?"

  "Almighty! vrouw," he answered, "you know well that I would as soon sendaway my right hand. I wish him to stop here for ever, and whatever Ihave is his; yes, even my daughter. But I seek what is best for him,and I would not have it said in after years that Jan Botmar had kept anEnglish lad not old enough to judge for himself from his rank and wealthbecause he took pleasure in his company and wished to marry him to hisgirl."

  "Good," I said. "And now for you, Suzanne; what have you to say?"

  "I have nothing to add to my words," she replied; "you know all myheart."

  "Good again. And you, Ralph?"

  "I say, mother, that I will not budge from this place unless I amordered to go, and if I do go, I will come back for Suzanne. I love youall, and with you I wish to live and nowhere else."

  "Nay, Ralph," I answered sighing, "if once you go you will never comeback, for out yonder you will find a new home, new interests, and,perchance, new loves. Well, though nobody has thought of me in thismatter, I have a voice in it, and I will speak for myself. That ladyonder has been a son to me for many years, and I who have none love himas such. He is a man as we reckon in this country, and he does not wishto leave us any more than we wish him to go. Moreover, he loves Suzanne,and Suzanne loves him, and I believe that the God who brought themtogether at first means them to be husband and wife, and that such loveas they bear to each other will give them more together than any wealthor rank can bring to them apart. Therefore I say, husband, let our son,Ralph, say here with us and marry our daughter, Suzanne, decently and indue season, and let their children be our children, and their love ourlove."

  "And how about the Scotchmen who are coming with power to take himaway?"

  "Do you and Ralph go to the bush-veldt with the cattle to-morrow," Ianswered, "and leave me to deal with the Scotchmen."

  "Well," said Jan, "I consent, for who can stand up against so manywords, and the Lord knows that to lose Ralph would have broken my heartas it would have broken that girl's, perhaps more so, since girls changetheir fancies, but I am too old to change. Come here, my children."

  They came, and he laid one of his big hands upon the head of each ofthem, saying:--

  "May the God in Heaven bless you both, who to me are one as dear as theother, making you happy with each other for many long years, and may Heturn aside from you and from us the punishment that is due to all of usbecause, on account of our great love, we are holding you back, Ralph,from the home, the kin and the fortune to which you were born." Then hekissed each of them on the forehead and let them go.

  "If there be any punishment for that which is no sin, on my head be it,"said Ralph, "since never would I have gone from here by my own will."

  "Aye, aye," answered Jan, "but who can take account of the talk of a ladin love? Well, we have committed the sin and we must bear the sorrow.Now I go out to see to the
kraaling of the cattle, which we will driveoff to the bush-veldt to-morrow at dawn, for I will have naught to dowith these Scotchmen; your mother must settle with them as she wills,only I beg of her that she will tell me nothing of the bargain. Nay, donot come with me, Ralph; stop you with your dear, for to-morrow you willbe parted for a while."

  So he went, and did not return again till late, and we three sattogether and made pretense to be very happy, but somehow were a littlesad, for Jan's words about sin and sorrow stuck in our hearts, as thehonest words of a stupid, upright man are apt to do.