Allan's Wife

  CHAPTER XIV

  FIFTEEN YEARS AFTER

  Both Stella and Tota were too weary to be moved, so we camped that nightin the baboons' home, but were troubled by no baboons. Stella would notsleep in the cave; she said the place terrified her, so I made her up akind of bed under a thorn-tree. As this rock-bound valley was one of thehottest places I ever was in, I thought that this would not matter; butwhen at sunrise on the following morning I saw a veil of miasmatic misthanging over the surface of the ground, I changed my opinion. However,neither Stella nor Tota seemed the worse, so as soon as was practicalwe started homewards. I had already on the previous day sent some of themen back to the kraals to fetch a ladder, and when we reached the cliffwe found them waiting for us beneath. With the help of the ladder thedescent was easy. Stella simply got out of her rough litter at the topof the cliff, for we found it necessary to carry her, climbed down theladder, and got into it again at the bottom.

  Well, we reached the kraals safely enough, seeing nothing more ofHendrika, and, were this a story, doubtless I should end it herewith--"and lived happily ever after." But alas! it is not so. How am Ito write it?

  My dearest wife's vital energy seemed completely to fail her now thatthe danger was past, and within twelve hours of our return I saw thather state was such as to necessitate the abandonment of any idea ofleaving Babyan Kraals at present. The bodily exertion, the anguish ofmind, and the terror which she had endured during that dreadful night,combined with her delicate state of health, had completely broken herdown. To make matters worse, also, she was taken with an attack offever, contracted no doubt in the unhealthy atmosphere of that accursedvalley. In time she shook the fever off, but it left her dreadfullyweak, and quite unfit to face the trial before her.

  I think she knew that she was going to die; she always spoke of myfuture, never of _our_ future. It is impossible for me to tell how sweetshe was; how gentle, how patient and resigned. Nor, indeed, do I wishto tell it, it is too sad. But this I will say, I believe that if evera woman drew near to perfection while yet living on the earth, StellaQuatermain did so.

  The fatal hour drew on. My boy Harry was born, and his mother livedto kiss and bless him. Then she sank. We did what we could, but we hadlittle skill, and might not hold her back from death. All through oneweary night I watched her with a breaking heart.

  The dawn came, the sun rose in the east. His rays falling on the peakbehind were reflected in glory upon the bosom of the western sky. Stellaawoke from her swoon and saw the light. She whispered to me to open thedoor of the hut. I did so, and she fixed her dying eyes on the splendourof the morning sky. She looked on me and smiled as an angel mightsmile. Then with a last effort she lifted her hand, and, pointing to theradiant heavens, whispered:

  "_There, Allan, there!_"

  It was done, and I was broken-hearted, and broken-hearted I must wanderto the end. Those who have endured my loss will know my sorrow; itcannot be written. In such peace and at such an hour may I also die!

  Yes, it is a sad story, but wander where we will about the world we cannever go beyond the sound of the passing bell. For me, as for my fatherbefore me, and for the millions who have been and who shall be, there isbut one word of comfort. "The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath takenaway." Let us, then, bow our heads in hope, and add with a humble heart,"Blessed be the name of the Lord."