John Ames, Native Commissioner: A Romance of the Matabele Rising

  CHAPTER SIX.

  ABOUT SOME DALLYING.

  John Ames was beginning to enjoy his leave, and that actively.

  At first he had done so in a negative kind of way. It was pleasant tohave nothing to do, and plenty of time to do it in, to rise in themorning and know that until bedtime at night he had only to pleasehimself and take no thought for anything whatever. He had a fewacquaintance in the neighbourhood, more or less busy people whoseavocations kept them in Cape Town throughout the working day, and so wasmostly thrown upon his own resources. This, however, was not withoutits advantages, for the change had hardly benefited him much as yet, andhe was conscious of a sort of mental languor which rendered him ratherdisinclined than otherwise for the society of his fellows. He liked tomount his bicycle and spin for miles along the smooth level roads,beneath the oak and fir shade, the towering wall of mountain glimpsedever and anon athwart the trees; or, gaining the nearest point of seashore, lie on the beach for hours, watching the rollers come tumblingin, and the revels of bathers skipping amid the surf. Hitherto he hadbeen content to do all this alone, now he was not; and the name of theagency which had effected this change was Nidia Commerell.

  Nearly a fortnight has gone by since we introduced that entrancingpersonality to the reader's notice; and whatever effects the same hadhad upon John Ames, one at any rate was certain, viz. a conviction thatit was not good to be alone.

  They had seen a good deal of each other within that time. Nidia hadcarried out to the full her expressed intention of using him as anescort, and he, for his part, had gladly welcomed the _role_, andefficiently discharged it; and whether it was along bicycle ride, or amore remote expedition by rail, or a scramble up the Devil's Peak, thatcommended itself to the two ladies for the day's programme, there wasJohn Ames in sure and faithful attendance. It did him good, too. Therewas an ingredient in the tonic which was stimulating, life-givingindeed, and now in this daily companionship he felt that life was worthliving. Decidedly he had begun to enjoy his leave.

  "Well, Susie, wasn't I justified in my prediction?" said Nidia to herfriend, as they were dressing for dinner after one of these expeditions.

  "Which prediction? You make so many."

  "Concerning John Ames,"--for so they had got into the way of designatinghim when alone together.

  "I said he looked as if he were nice, and also that he would come inhandy as an escort for two unprotected females. Well, he is both.Isn't he?"

  "Yes; he is a remarkably well-mannered, pleasant man."

  "With more than two ideas in his head?"

  "Yes; he can talk intelligently on any subject, and if he knows nothingabout it won't pretend to."

  "As is the case with the average turned-out-of-a-bandbox,eyeward-twisting-moustache type of Apollo one usually encounters inone's progress through this vale of woe," supplied Nidia, with an airylaugh.

  "That holds good, too. But, gracious Heavens, child, don't pile up youradjectives in that mountainous fashion, or you'll reflect no credit onmy most careful training and tuition."

  "All rights Govvie," cried Nidia, with a peal of merry laughter--thepoint of the allusion being that prior to her marriage Susie Bateman hadbeen a combination of companion and governess to the girl she was nowchaperoning; in fact, was a distant relation to boot. "But the saidcareful training was such a long time ago. I'm beginning to forget it."

  "Long time ago!"

  "Yes, it was. In the days of my youth. I am in my twenty-fourth year,remember. Is that nothing?"

  "Of course it's nothing. But--what were we talking about?"

  "Oh, John Ames, as usual."

  "As usual--yes. But, Nidia, isn't it rather rough on the man? He'ssure to end by falling in love with you."

  Again the girl laughed, but this time she changed colour ever soslightly.

  "To _end_ by it! That's not very complimentary to my transcendentfascinations, O Susie. He ought to begin by it. But--to be serious--perfectly serious--he isn't that sort."

  "I'm not by any means sure. Why should you think so?"

  "No signs. He'd have hung out signals long ago if he'd been trendingthat way. They all do. The monotony of the procedure is simplywearisome."

  "Nidia, you are really a very dreadful child. Your talk is absolutelyshocking to the ears of a well brought up British female."

  "Can't help it. If a series of idiots come to labour under theimpression that life outside my presence--ten days after first becomingaware of my existence--is totally unendurable, where am I to blame? Ican't scowl at them, and nothing short of that will restrain them. Now,the reason why I rather like this man is that he has so far shown nosigns of mental aberration."

  She meant it all. For one so plenteously, so dangerously, dowered asfar as the other sex was concerned, Nidia Commerell was strangelyunromantic. In her allusion to the rapidity with which the average malesuccumbed to her charms there was no exaggeration. She seemed topossess the art of conquest sudden and complete, yet, in reality, art itwas not, for she had not a shadow of the flirt in her composition. Thevery artlessness of her frank unstudied demeanour constituted, in fact,her most formidable armament. But she refused to see why she shouldavoid the other sex simply because a large percentage of its memberswere weak enough to fall in love with her upon no sort of warranty orprovocation. There was no affectation, either, in her declaration thatthe unanimity wherewith they did so candidly bored her.

  "Just as I begin to like a man," she would plaintively declare, "andfind him of some use, he gets serious, gloomy, and spoils everything."And for all her airiness on the subject, she was not entirely without aqualm lest John Ames should follow suit, and him she had more than begunto like very much indeed. The roar of a truly demoniacal gong cut shortfurther discussion of the subject, by warning them that it was time togo down and join the object of it at table. Him they found in an amusedstate.

  "Rather fun," he said. "Some fellow has been going for that mostcherished and firmly rooted institution, the great Cape fish-horn, in aletter to the evening _Argus_. He doesn't see how a civilised communityat the end of the nineteenth century can tolerate their day and nightalike being made hideous by an unending procession of dirty Malaysblaring weirdly, wildly, deafeningly through a `yard of tin;' and, forthe matter of that, no more do I. Look, here it is"--handing the paperacross to Mrs Bateman.

  The latter, like most high-featured people, was of censorious habit."Yes; it's amusing," she said. "But there are some people who are neverhappy unless they are finding fault. I suppose even these poor Malaysmust earn their living."

  "No fear of their not doing that," rejoined Ames. "Why, they are themost well-to-do crowd on this peninsula. I take it the writer's pointis they could earn it without making life intolerable to the world atlarge."

  At which remark, ever so faint a droop of the mouth-corners changed thevisage of a silent, middle-aged individual seated at an adjacent table;but his back was towards them, and they couldn't see it. "Oh,nonsense," retorted Mrs Bateman, breezily. "People who can't stand alittle noise ought to go and live by themselves on a desert island."

  Here the droop on the lips of the silent one became a very pronouncedsneer. "A fool of a woman, answering according to her folly," hethought.

  "Let me see it," cried Nidia. "Yes; it is a good joke, and perfectlytrue, too. I know I've wished that same hideous noise anywhere timesout of number. I quite agree--it is amazing how they tolerate it. Iwonder who the writer is. Positively I'd like to send him an anonymousletter of cordial thanks."

  This time the silent one laughed to himself, heartily and undisguisedly.

  "Write it to the _Argus_ instead and agree with him; that'll do just aswell," said John Ames. "The fact of the matter is that the Malay voteis a power just here, and it would be about as easy to uproot TableMountain itself as the diabolical snoek trumpet under discussion."

  "No, I don't agree with you in the least, Susie," declared Nidia. "Ithink unnecessary ra
cket ought to be put down with a stern hand. Don'tyou remember all that abominable cannon nuisance when we were in theBernese Oberland? You didn't like that any more than I did. Justfancy, Mr Ames. Some of the most picturesque turnings of the road,almost wherever we went, were tenanted by a miscreant volunteering tolet off a horrid cannon for half a franc--to raise an echo."

  "I should have felt like offering him a whole one not to raise it," wasthe reply. "But the noble Switzer was shrewd enough to appraise hisclients at their correct value. The English are never quite happyunless they are making a noise, unless it is when they are listening toone."

  "Yes; aren't they?" cried Nidia. "You see it in their fondness forbanging doors and talking at the top of their voices on every landing atall hours of the day and night, and throwing their boots about andpounding up and down for hours over somebody else's head, in a housefull of other people."

  The silent one hearkened approvingly. "That's no fool of a girl," hewas saying to himself.

  "I know," replied John Ames. "And, talking about that stumping overheadtrick, if you were wantonly to knock a cripple off his crutch you wouldbe voted the greatest brute on earth. Yet that same cripple will gointo the room above yours, and, as you say, pound up and down for hours,or perhaps let fall that same crutch with a mighty bang upon the floor,totally callous to the possibility of there being some unfortunate wightunderneath with shattered nerves, and generally seedy, and who wouldgive his soul for a square night's rest. No; if you expect from otherpeople any of the consideration they expect from you, you are simplylaughed at for a fool, and a selfish one at that."

  "Oh, well, in life we have to give and take, I suppose," remarked thecensorious one, with striking originality.

  John Ames smiled. He had an idea as to the sort of giving and takingthis masterful person would be likely to practise, save in one quarter,that is; for he had not spent the time he had in the society of the twowithout detecting that she had at any rate one soft place, and that wasNidia Commerell. So he agreed easily, and the talk drifted on to othermatters.

  It was pleasant out in the moonlight. The elder of the two ladies hadpronounced herself tired when Nidia, whose freshness nothing seemed toimpair, suggested strolling. John Ames was rather inclined to be silentas they wandered on, the light of the southern moon flooding downthrough the overshadowing firs, the balmy stillness of the night brokenby distant snatches of shrill laughter and the chatter of voices fromsqualid coloured loafers on the main road. He was realising with a sortof pang at the heart how all this time would soon be behind him, as in aflash, only as an episode to look back to. The girl, noting hissilence, was wondering whether it was a prelude to what she had airilytermed "hoisting the signals," and, thus conjecturing, was surprised atherself and her lack of the usual eagerness to avoid them.

  "You are feeling much better than when you came down, are you not, MrAmes?" she said softly.

  "Ever so much. I shall go back quite set up."

  Her practised ear detected the slightest suspicion of melancholy in thetone, while admiring the strength which controlled it.

  "What a strange life you must have to lead up there!" she went on; forhe had told her a good deal about himself during the time of theiracquaintanceship.

  "Oh yes. It gets monotonous at times. But then, I take it, everythingdoes."

  "But it is such a useful life. And you have helped to open up thecountry, too."

  "Not I. That is left to other people."

  "But you were with the first expedition, and so of course you helped. Idon't wonder you pioneers are proud of the part you took in extendingthe Empire. Isn't that the correct newspaper phrase? At any rate, itsounds something big."

  John Ames smiled queerly. He was not especially proud of the extensionof the Empire; he had seen a few things incidental to that process whichhad killed within him any such incipient inflation.

  "Oh yes; there's a good deal of sound about most of the doings of `theEmpire,' but there--I must not get cynical on that head, because thesaid extension is finding me in bread and cheese just now, and I mustendeavour to be `proud of' that."

  "You must have great responsibilities holding the position you do. Tellme, are you able to throw them off while you are away, or do you lieawake sometimes at night wondering if things are going right?"

  "Oh, I try not to bother my head about them. It's of no use taking aholiday and thinking about `shop' all the while. Besides, the man whois in my place is all there. He has been at it as long as I have; andif there is one thing I may say without conceit I do know--in fact, bothof us know--it is the wily native and his little ways."

  Ah, John Ames, so you thought, and so thought many others in thoseboding days! But at this moment the man who is in your place isdrinking whisky and water and smoking pipes with the Policesub-inspector in a circular hut on the Sikumbutana, and you are dallyingbeneath a radiant moon upon a fir-shaded road at Wynberg, with more thanone lingering glance into the eyes of the sweet-faced, soft-voiced girlbeside you. But one could almost read a leering derisive grin into theface of the cold moon, for that moon is now looking down upon that whichwould give both yourself and `the man in your place' something veryserious to think about and to do. It is looking down upon--let us seewhat.