CHAPTER XVI
MISUNDERSTANDINGS
For some days after the acrimonious conversation that has been reported,the relations between Leonard and Juanna were not a little strained,although the necessities of travel brought them into continual contact.Both felt that they had cause of complaint against the other, andboth were at heart somewhat ashamed of the part which they had played.Leonard regretted ever having made the agreement with Soa, and Juanna,now that she had cooled down a little, regretted having spoken as shedid upon the subject. Her pride was offended; but, after all, how couldhe know? Besides, he was an adventurer, and it was natural that heshould make terms. Doubtless also his anxiety to win fortune had to dowith the lady whose name was written in the prayer-book.
Perhaps this lady was only a maiden aunt, but a great desire seizedJuanna to know about her; and when such a wish enters the heart of womanit is probable that she will find a means to satisfy it. Having no oneelse to ask, Juanna sounded Otter, with whom she was on friendly terms,only to find that the subject of Jane Beach did not interest the dwarf.He hazarded a remark, however, that doubtless she was one of the Baas'swives when he lived in his big kraal over the water.
This disgusted Juanna somewhat, but the allusion to a "big kraal"excited the curiosity, of which she had a certain share, and veryadroitly she questioned the dwarf concerning it. He rose to the flywithout hesitation, and told her that his master had been one of thegreatest men in the world, and one of the richest, but that he losthis possessions through the wicked arts of foemen, and was come to thiscountry to seek new ones.
Indeed Otter enlarged upon the theme, and, anxious to extol his belovedchief's worth in the eyes of the Shepherdess, it would not be too muchto say that he drew upon his own imagination. Leonard, he declared, hadowned country as wide as a horse could gallop across in a day; moreover,he had two hundred tribesmen, heads of families, who fed upon oxenkilled for them--twenty oxen a week; and ten principal wives had calledhim husband. Juanna asked for the titles of the wives, whereon theundefeated Otter gave them all Kaffir names, not neglecting to describetheir lineage, personal charms, and the number and sex of theirchildren. The tale took about two hours to tell, and after hearing itJuanna conceived a great respect for Otter, but she saw clearly thatif she wished for reliable information she must obtain it from Leonardhimself.
It was not till the last day of their journey that Juanna found theopportunity she sought. The voyage had been most prosperous, and theyexpected to reach the ruined Settlement on the morrow, though whether ornot they would find Mr. Rodd there was a matter of anxious conjecture,especially to his daughter. Day after day they rowed and sailed up thegreat river, camping at night upon its banks, which would have beenpleasant had it not been for the mosquitoes. But all this while Leonardand Juanna saw little of each other, though they met often enough. Onthis particular occasion, however, it chanced that they were journeyingin the same boat, alone, except for the rowers.
Possibly Juanna had contrived that it should be so, for as a generalrule, in pursuit of his policy of avoiding a disagreeable young person,Leonard travelled with Otter in the first boat, while Juanna wasaccompanied by Francisco and Soa in the second. To the priest, indeed,she made herself very agreeable, perhaps to show Leonard how charmingshe could be when she chose. She conversed with him by the hour togetheras though he were a woman friend, and his melancholy eyes would lightenwith pleasure at her talk. Indeed Francisco had something of thefeminine in his nature; his very gentleness was womanly, and his slightstature, delicate hands and features heightened this impression. In facehe was not unlike Juanna herself, and as time went on the resemblanceseemed to grow. Had he been arrayed in a woman's loose attire, it wouldhave been easy to mistake one for the other in the dusk, although shewas the taller of the two.
The accident of his profession caused Juanna to admit Francisco to anintimacy which she would have withheld from any other man. She forgot,or did not understand, that she was playing a dangerous game--that afterall he was a man, and that the heart of a man beat beneath his cassock.Nobody could be more charming in her manner or more subtle in her mindthan Juanna, yet day by day she did not hesitate to display all herstrength before the unfortunate young priest, which, in addition toher beauty, made her somewhat irresistible, at any rate on the Zambesi.Friendship and ignorance of the world were doubtless at the bottom ofthis reprehensible conduct, but it is also possible that unconsciouspique had something to do with it. She was determined to show Leonardthat she was not always a disagreeable person whom it was well to avoid,or at least that others did not think so. That all these airs and gracesmight have a tragic effect upon Francisco never occurred to her till toolate.
Well, for once the order of things was changed; Leonard and Juanna satside by side in the first boat. The evening was lovely, they glidedslowly by the reed-fringed bank, watching the long lights play upon thesurface of the lonely river, listening to the whistling wings of thecountless wildfowl overhead, and counting the herds of various game thatroamed upon the plains beyond.
For a while neither of them spoke much. Occasionally Juanna wouldcall her companion's attention to some water-flower or to a great fishdarting from the oars, and he would answer by a word or nod. His heartwas wroth with the girl, as Otter would have said; he wondered whyshe had come with him--because she was tired of the priest perhaps. Hewished her away, and yet he would have been sorry enough had she gone.
For her part Juanna desired to make him speak, and did not know how tobreak through his moody silence. Suddenly she leaned back in the boatand began to sing in a rich contralto voice that moved him. He had neverheard her sing before, had never heard any good singing for many yearsindeed, and he was fond of singing. The song she sang was a Portugueselove-song, very tender and passionate, addressed by a bereaved lover tohis dead mistress, and she put much expression into it. Presently sheceased, and he noticed that her beautiful eyes were full of tears. Soshe could feel!
"That is too sad," she said with a little laugh, and then burst intoa Kaffir boat-song, of which the Settlement natives, joyous in theprospect of once more seeing their home, took up the chorus gleefully.Presently she wearied of the boat-chant. "I am tiring you," she said; "Idare say that you do not care for singing."
"On the contrary, Miss Rodd, I am very fond of it. Your voice is good,if you will allow me to say so, and it has been trained. I do notquite understand how you can have had the opportunity to learn so manythings--music, for instance."
"I suppose, Mr. Outram, you think that I should be a sort of savage byrights; but as a matter of fact, although we have lived on the Zambesi,I have had some chances. There is always a certain amount of trade onthe river, by means of which we often obtain books and other things, andare brought into occasional contact with European merchants, travellers,and missionaries. Then my father is a gently born and well-educated man,though circumstances have caused him to spend his life in these wildplaces. He was a scholar in his day and he has taught me a good deal,and I have picked up more by reading. Also, for nearly three years I wasat a good school in Durban and did my best to improve myself there. Idid not wish to grow up wild because I lived among wild people."
"Indeed, that explains the miracle. And do you like living amongsavages?"
"I have liked it well enough hitherto, but this last adventure hassickened me. Oh! it was dreadful. Had I not been very strong I couldnever have endured it; a nervous woman would have been driven mad.Yes, I have liked it well enough; I have always looked upon it as apreparation for life. I think that the society of nature is the besteducation for the society of man, since until you understand and arein sympathy with the one, you cannot really understand the other. Now Ishould like to go to Europe and see the world and its civilisations, forI know from what stuff they were evolved. But perhaps I never shall; atany rate, I have to find my dear father first," and she sighed.
Leonard made no answer; he was thinking.
"And you, Mr. Outram, do _you_ care for this
life?"
"I!" he exclaimed bitterly. "Like yourself, Miss Rodd, I am the victimof circumstances and must make the best of them. As I told you I ama penniless adventurer seeking my fortune in the rough places of theearth. Of course I might earn a livelihood in England, but that is of nouse to me; I must win wealth, and a great deal of it."
"What is the good?" she said. "Is there any object in wearing out one'slife by trying to grow rich?"
"That depends. I have an object, one which I have sworn to fulfil."
She looked at him inquiringly.
"Miss Rodd, I will tell you. My brother, who died of fever some weeksago, and I were the last male survivors of a very ancient house. We wereborn to great prospects, or at least he was; but owing to the conduct ofour father, everything was lost to us, and the old house, which had beenours for centuries, went to the hammer. That was some seven years ago,when I was a man of three-and-twenty. We swore that we would try toretrieve those fortunes--not for ourselves so much, but for the sakeof the family--and came to Africa to do it. My brother is dead, but Iinherit the oath and continue the quest, however hopeless it may be. Andnow, perhaps, you will understand why I signed a certain document."
"Yes," she said, "I understand now. It is a strange history. But tellme, have you no relations left?"
"One, I believe, if she still lives--a maiden aunt, my mother's sister."
"Is she Jane Beach?" she asked quickly. "Forgive me, but I saw that namein the prayer-book."
"No," he said, "she is not Jane Beach."
Juanna hesitated; then curiosity and perhaps other feelings overcameher, and she asked straight out--
"Who is Jane Beach?"
Leonard looked at Juanna and remembered all that he had suffered at herhands. It was impertinent of her to ask such a question, but since shechose to do so she should have an answer. Doubtless she supposed thathe was in love with herself, doubtless her conduct was premeditated andaimed at the repression of his hopes. He would show her that therewere other women in the world, and that one of them at any rate had notthought so poorly of him. It was foolish conduct on his part, but thenpeople suffering under unmerited snubs, neglect, and mockery at thehands of a lady they admire are apt to lose their judgment and dofoolish things. So he answered:
"Jane Beach is the lady to whom I was engaged."
"I guessed it," she replied with a smile and a shiver. "I guessed itwhen I saw that you always carried the prayer-book about with you."
"You forget, Miss Rodd, that the prayer-book contains an agreement whichmight become valuable."
Juanna took no heed of his sarcasm, she was too intent on otherthoughts.
"And are you engaged to her now?"
"No, I suppose not. Her father broke off the match when we lost ourfortunes."
"She must have been very sorry?"
"Yes, she was very sorry."
"How interesting! You must not think me curious, Mr. Outram, but I havenever come across a love affair--that is a _white_ love affair--out of anovel. Of course she often writes to you?"
"I have never heard from her since I left England."
"Indeed! Surely she might have written or sent a message?"
"I suppose that her father forbade it," Leonard answered; but in hisheart he also thought that Jane might have written or sent a message,and could well guess why none had come.
"Ah! her father. Tell me, was she very beautiful?"
"She was the loveliest woman that I ever saw--except one who is sittingat my side," he added to himself.
"And do you love her very much?"
"Yes, I loved her very much."
If Juanna heard the change of tense she took no note of it; it wassuch a little thing, only one letter. And yet what a vast gulf there isbetween _love_ and _loved_! It is measureless. Still, most people havecrossed it in their lives, some of them more than once. He told her theexact truth, but after a woman's fashion she added to the truth. He saidthat he had loved Jane Beach, and she did not doubt that he still lovedher more than ever. How was she to know that the image of this farawayand hateful Jane was fading from his mind, to be replaced by that of acertain present Juanna? She took it all for granted, and filled in thedetails with a liberal hand and in high colours.
Juanna took it all for granted. Again she shivered, and her lips turnedgrey with pain. She understood now that she had loved him ever sincethe night when they first met in the slave camp. It was her love, asyet unrecognised, which, transforming her, had caused her to behave sobadly. It had been dreadful to her to think that she should be thrustupon this man in a mock marriage; it was worse to know that he hadentered on her rescue not for her own sake, but in the hope of winningwealth. In the moment of her loss Juanna learned for the first time whatshe had gained. She had played and lost, and she could never throw thosedice again; it was begun and finished.
So Juanna thought and felt. A little more experience of the world mighthave taught her differently. But she had no experience, and in suchnovels as she had read the hero seldom varied in the pursuit of hisfirst love, or turned to look upon _another_. Ah! if all heroes andheroines acted up to this golden rule, what an uncommonly dull world itwould be!
Juanna gathered her energies, and spoke in a low steady voice. "Mr.Outram," she said, "I am so much obliged to you for telling me all this.It interests me a great deal, and I earnestly hope that Soa's tale oftreasure will turn out to be true, and that you may win it by my help.It will be some slight return for all that you have done for me. Yes, Ihope that you will win it, and buy back your home, and after your yearsof toil and danger live there in honour, and happiness, and--love, asyou deserve to do. And now I ask you to forgive me my behaviour, myrudeness, and my bitter speeches. It has been shameful, I know; perhapsyou will make some excuse for me when you remember all that I havegone through. My nerves were shaken, I was not myself--I acted like ahalf-wild minx. There, that is all."
As she spoke Juanna began to draw the signet-ring from her left hand.But she never completed the act. It was his gift to her, the onlyoutward link between her and the man whom she had lost--why should shepart with it? It reminded her of so much. She knew now that thismock marriage was in a sense a true one; that is, so far as she wasconcerned, for from that hour she had indeed given her spirit into hiskeeping--not herself, but her better half and her love; and those solemnwords over her in that dreadful place and time had consecrated thegift. It was nothing, it meant nothing; yet on her it should be binding,though not on him. Yes, all her life she would remain as true to him inmind and act as though she had indeed become his wife on that night offear. To do so would be her only happiness, she thought, though it isstrange that in her sorrow she should turn for comfort to this veryevent, the mere mention of which had moved her to scorn and bitterness.But so it was, and so let it be.
Leonard saw the look upon her face; he had never seen anything quitelike it before. With astonishment he heard her gentle words, andsomething of the meaning of the look and words came home to him; at anyrate he understood that she was suffering. She was changed in his sight,he no longer felt bitter towards her. He loved her; might it not be thatshe also loved him, and that here was the key to her strange conduct?Once and for all he would settle the matter; he would tell her that JaneBeach had ceased to be more than a tender memory to him, and that shehad become all.
"Juanna," he said, addressing her by her Christian name for the firsttime.
But there, as it was fated, the sentence began and ended, for at thatmoment a canoe shot alongside of them, and Francisco's voice was heardhailing them through the fog.
"Peter says that you have passed the camping place, senora. He did notstop you because he thought that you knew it well."
"It was the mist, Father," Juanna answered with a little laugh. "We havelost ourselves in a mist."
A few minutes and they were on the bank, and Leonard's declarationremained unspoken. Nor did he make any attempt to renew it. It seemed tohim that Juanna had built a wall between them whic
h he could not climb.From that evening forward her whole attitude towards him changed. She nolonger angered him by bitter words; indeed, she was gentleness itself,and nothing could be kindlier or more friendly and open than her manner,but there it began and ended. Once or twice, indeed, he attempted somesmall advance, with the result that instantly she seemed to freeze--tobecome cold and hard as marble. He could not understand her, he fearedher somewhat, and his pride took alarm. At the least he could keep hisfeelings to himself, he need not expose them to be trampled upon by thisincomprehensible girl.
So, although they were destined to live side by side for months, rarelyout of each other's sight or thoughts, he went his way and she wenthers. But the past and secret trouble left its mark on both. Leonardbecame sterner, more silent, watchful, and suspicious. Juanna grewsuddenly from a girl into a woman of presence and great natural dignity.She did not often laugh during those months as had been her wont, sheonly smiled, sadly enough at times. Her thoughts would not let herlaugh, for they were of what her life might have been had no such personas Jane Beach existed, and of what it must be because of Jane Beach.Indeed this unknown Jane took a great hold of her mind--she haunted her.Juanna pictured her in a dozen different shapes of beauty, endowed withmany varying charms, and hated each phantasm worse than the last.
Still, for a while she would set it up as a rival, and try to outmatchits particular fancied grace or loveliness--a strange form of jealousywhich at length led Otter to remark that the Shepherdess was not onewoman but twenty women, and, therefore, bewitched and to be avoided. Butthese fits only took her from time to time. For the most part she movedamong them a grave and somewhat stately young lady, careful ofmany things, fresh and lovely to look upon, a mystery to her whitecompanions, and to the natives little short of a goddess.
But wherever Juanna moved two shadows went with her--her secret passionand the variable image of that far-off English lady who had robbed herof its fruit.