CHAPTER XXIV
THE SHADOW OF DEATH
The firing from the bank had ceased, and John, who still kept his head,being a rather phlegmatic specimen of the Anglo-Saxon race, knew that,for the moment at any rate, all danger from this source was ended. Jesslay perfectly still in his arms, her head upon his breast. A horribleidea struck him that she might be shot, perhaps already dead!
"Jess, Jess," he shouted, through the turmoil of the storm, "are youhit?"
She lifted her head an inch or two--"I think not," she said. "What isgoing on?"
"God only knows, I don't. Sit still, it will be all right."
But in his heart he knew it was not "all right," and that they stood inimminent danger of death by drowning. They were whirling down a ragingriver in a cart. In a few moments it was probable that the cart wouldupset, and then----
Presently the wheel bumped against something, the cart gave a greatlurch, and scraped along a little.
"Now for it," thought John, for the water was pouring over the flooring.Then came a check, and the cart leant still farther to one side.
_Crack!_ The pole had gone, and the cart swung round bows, or ratherbox, on to the stream. What had happened was this: they had driftedacross a rock that projected from the bed of the river, the force of thecurrent having washed the dead horses to the one side of it and the cartto the other. Consequently they were anchored to the rock, as it were,the anchor being the dead horses, and the cable the stout traces ofuntanned leather. So long as these traces and the rest of the harnessheld, they were safe from drowning; but of course they did not knowthis.
Indeed, they knew nothing. Above them rolled the storm; about them theriver seethed and the rain hissed. They knew nothing except that theywere helpless living atoms tossing between the wild waters and thewilder night, with imminent death staring them in the face, around,above, and below. To and fro they rocked, locked fast in each other'sarms, and as they swung came that awful flash that, though they guessedit not, sent two of the murderers to their account, and for an instant,even through the sheet of rain, illumined the space of boiling water andthe long lines of the banks on either side. It showed the point of rockto which they were fixed, it glared upon the head of one of the poorhorses tossed up by the driving current as though it were still tryingto escape its watery doom, and revealed the form of the dead Zulu,Mouti, lying on his face, one arm hanging over the edge of the cart anddabbling in the water that ran level with it, in ghastly similarity tosome idle passenger in a pleasure boat, who lets his fingers slip softlythrough the stream.
In a second it was gone, and once more they were in darkness. Then bydegrees the storm passed off and the moon began to shine, feebly indeed,for the sky was not clear washed of clouds, which still trailed along inthe tracks of the tempest, sucked after it by its mighty draught. Stillit was lighter and the rain thinned gradually till at last it stopped.The storm had rolled in majesty down the ways of night, and there was nosound round them save the sound of rushing water.
"John," said Jess presently, "can we do anything?"
"Nothing, dear."
"Shall we escape, John?"
He hesitated. "It is in God's hands, dear. We are in great danger. Ifthe cart upsets we shall be drowned. Can you swim?"
"No, John."
"If we can hang on here till daylight we may get ashore, if those devilsare not there to shoot us. I do not think that our chance is a goodone."
"John, are you afraid to die?"
He hesitated. "I don't know, dear. I hope to meet it like a man."
"Tell me what you truly think. Is there any hope for us at all?"
Once more he paused, reflecting whether or no he should speak the truth.Finally he decided to do so.
"I can see none, Jess. If we are not drowned we are sure to be shot.They will wait about the bank till morning, and for their own sakes theywill not dare to let us live."
He did not know that all which was left of two of them would indeed waitfor many a long year, while the third had fled aghast.
"Jess, dear," he went on, "it is of no good to tell lies. Our lives mayend any minute. Humanly speaking, they must end before the sun is up."
The words were awful enough--if the reader can by an effort ofimagination throw himself for a moment into the position of these two,he will understand how awful.
It is a dreadful thing, when in the flow of health and youth, suddenlyto be placed face to face with the certainty of violent death, and toknow that in a few more minutes your course will have been run, and thatyou will have commenced to explore a future, which may prove to be evenworse, because more enduring, than the life you are now quitting inagony. It is a dreadful thing, as any who have ever stood in sucha peril can testify, and John felt his heart sink within him atthe thought of it--for Death is very strong. But there is one thingstronger, a woman's perfect love, against which Death himself cannotprevail. And so it came to pass that now as he fixed his cold gaze uponJess's eyes they answered him with a strange unearthly light. She fearednot Death, so that she might meet him with her beloved. Death was herhope and opportunity. Here she had nothing; there she might have all.The fetters had fallen from her, struck off by an overmastering hand.Her duty was satisfied, her trust fulfilled, and she was free--free todie with her beloved. Ay! her love was indeed a love deeper than thegrave; and now it rose in eager strength, standing expectant upon theearth, ready, when dissolution had lent it wings, to soar to its ownpredestined star.
"You are sure, John?" she asked again.
"Yes, dear, yes. Why do you force me to repeat it? I can see no hope."
Her arms were round his neck, her soft curls rested on his cheek, andthe breath from her lips played upon his brow. Indeed it was only byspeaking into each other's ears that conversation was possible, owing tothe rushing sound of the waters.
"Because I have something to tell you which I cannot tell unless we aregoing to die. You know it, but I want to say it with my own lips beforeI die. I love you, John, _I love you, I love you_; and I am glad to diebecause I can die with you, and go away with you."
He heard, and such was the power of her love, that his, which had beenput out of mind in the terror of that hour, reawoke and took the colourof her own. He too forgot the imminence of death in the warm presence ofhis down-trodden passion. She was in his arms as he had taken her duringthe firing, and he bent his head to look at her. The moonlight playedupon her pallid, quivering face, and showed that in her eyes which noman could look upon and turn away. Once more--yes, even then--there cameover him that feeling of utter surrender to the sweet mastery of herwill which had possessed him in the sitting-room of "The Palatial."Only all earthly considerations having faded into nothingness now, he nolonger hesitated, but pressed his lips to hers and kissed her again andyet again. It was perhaps as wild and pathetic a love scene as ever theold moon above has witnessed. There they clung, those two, in the actualshadow of death experiencing the fullest and acutest joy that our lifehas to offer. Nay, death was present with them, for, beneath their veryfeet, half-hidden by the water, lay the stiffening corpse of the Zulu.
To and fro swung the cart in the rush of the swollen river, up and downbeside them the carcases of the horses rose and fell with the surge ofthe water, on whose surface the broken moonbeams played and quivered.Overhead was the blue star-sown depth through which they were waitingpresently to pass, and to the right and left the long broken outlines ofthe banks stretched away till at last they appeared to grow together inthe gloom.
But they heeded none of these things; they remembered nothing exceptthat they had found each other's hearts, and were happy with a wild joyit is not often given to us to feel. The past was forgotten, the futureloomed at hand, and between the one and the other was spanned a bridgeof passion made perfect and sanctified by its approaching earthly end.Bessie was forgotten, all things were forgotten, for they were alonewith Love and Death.
Let those who would blame them pause awhile. Why not? They had kept the
faith. They had denied themselves and run straightly down the path ofduty. But the compacts of life end with life. No man may bargain for thebeyond; even the marriage service shrinks from it. And now that hope hadgone and life was at its extremest ebb, why should they not take theirjoy before they passed to the land where, perchance, such things will beforgotten? So it seemed to them; if indeed they were any longer capableof reason.
He looked into her eyes and she laid her head upon his heart in thatmute abandonment of worship which is sometimes to be met with in theworld, and is redeemed from vulgar passion by an indefinable quality ofits own. He looked into her eyes and was glad to have lived, ay, even tohave reached this hour of death. And she, lost in the abyss of her deepnature, sobbed out her love-laden heart upon his breast, and called himher own, her own, her very own!