Page 22 of Hector Graeme


  *CHAPTER XXII*

  The red glow of a dying sun framed in masses of angry storm-cloud; agroup of dark-clad figures standing in a roughly-walled enclosure, intheir midst a white-clothed priest. Around, the sunlit veldt andmountain mocking the shortness of human life, their own tenure, thoughbut a span, an immortality compared with that of mankind.

  "I am the resurrection and the life." The high-pitched voice rose onthe evening air, chanting words that had been millions of timesrepeated, yet always sounding new, for of death they form the song, andneither Azrael nor Eros can ever weary humanity. Apart from the throng,close to the grave's brink, a man was standing. Dully the words beat onhis brain, but conveyed no meaning, for physical endurance had reachedits limit, and understanding for the time was dead.

  Vaguely he listened, wondering what it all might mean, now and againraising his eyes to the chasm's far side, where stood the chantingpriest, and beyond him the group of black-clothed figures. What was hedoing here, what were these people doing here, and this dark hole at hisfeet, what was its meaning? Vacantly he looked around, seeking forsomething to lay hold of, some landmark to link the present with thepast, but in vain, all were but as symbols on an ever-flying wheel, seenfor a second, gone, seen again and lost once more.

  Then for a space the whirling circle stopped, and the figures came to arest and stood steady before his eyes. Ah, there were two he recognised,a man and a woman, the former rigid-faced and stern, the latter weeping.Yes, he knew them; they were Richard Selbourne and Mary, but why was shecrying? There was no reason for it that he could see. He looked hardat them, trying to attract their notice, but in vain, almost it seemedas though they would not see. Ah last Richard looked up, met his eyesfull, and without recognition lowered his own again. "Cut me,intentionally too, what, in God's name for, what have I done? Confoundthat other fellow too, with them, staring like that; what the devil doeshe find in me, a stranger, to interest him? Never takes his eyes offme, damn him! Looks like a doctor, well, if you are, go back to yourpills, you fool, and leave me alone. I want none of your drugs."

  "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" Ah, herecognised that. They were burying someone then, and this hole at hisfeet was a grave. But whose, and what, had it to do with him? Faintlycurious, he moved forward and peered down. Yes, there was a coffin, aname on it too, if he could but read:

  STARA.

  Then back rushed remembrance; he knew, and laughed aloud. Everybodylooked up; the man with the deep-set eyes made a half step forward; Maryclutched her husband's arm; and the priest, scandalised, stopped, andthen went hurriedly on: "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes dust to dust."

  Graeme's head nodded slowly in approval, for here were words of sense atlast, little as the mumbling fool that uttered them knew it. To himthey were but a formula, the fine words spoken by the hero of some stagedrama, the finale bringing down the curtain to a burst of hystericalapplause. He alone knew how true they were, and that in death lay nosting and in the grave no victory, but defeat, and in an hour from nowthe proof of that truth would be given him.

  The throng melted away, and moved slowly homeward across the veldt. Twomen approached, spade in hand, glanced at Graeme, and then set swiftlyto work. The dull thud of earth on wood sounded from below, then earthon other earth, till the yawning chasm had gone and only a brown scarremained.

  One final stamp on the loosened soil, and they too, shouldering theirtools, went homeward, and Graeme was alone in the fast-falling night.The sun had long since died--to be born again in another world--and overhis fiery western grave a pall of blue storm-cloud hung, rapidly risingand spreading over the heavens. The wind moaned fretfully, and the lowmutter of thunder came from the distant mountains.

  The hour was at hand, its herald the tempest, the birth-pangs of earthin travail of a soul.

  A sudden fearful excitement shook Graeme. His knees knocked together,he rocked and swayed, and then the mood passed, and, steady once more,he strode forward till he stood over the lifeless body below, his lividface raised to the darkened sky.

  "Stara!" he called, but only the thunder of an outraged God responded."Stara! Stara!" he shouted again, and then stopped, for the answer hadcome.

  A flash of blue light, a rending crash overhead, and, to the swell ofharp and organ, the heavens yawned slowly asunder, and the dead woman,white fire rolling around her, stood looking down upon him. For amoment he remained, with face lit up and hands outstretched towards her,and then, with one loud triumphant cry of "Stara!" fell forward on hisface, quivered for a moment, and was still.

  Almost as quick as the lightning-flash, from behind the wall at the farside of the cemetery a man came running up, followed slowly andseemingly unwillingly by another.

  "Quick, Selbourne," said the first, "fetch a Cape cart; look sharp, man,the storm will be on us in a minute. God! did you ever see anything likethat last flash?"

  Richard came slowly up to where the speaker was kneeling, with Graeme'shead against his shoulder, while he was forcing the neck of a smallphial between the clenched teeth.

  "What's the matter," he said coolly, "lightning struck him? If so, heought to be dead. Is he?"

  "Nothing of the kind; he's as alive as you or I."

  "What's wrong, then?"

  "I don't quite know--fit of some sort, I should say."

  "Leave him to get over it then. Rain will bring him to. I'm going, Iwas a fool to stay, don't know why I did, except that you made such apoint of it."

  The other looked up, frowning. "Look here, Selbourne, what your quarrelis with this fellow I don't know, and don't want to; but I'm a doctor,and if he's the biggest blackguard under the sun, he's my patient now,and I don't leave him. You go if you like, but in common humanity orderthe Cape cart."

  "I'll ... see ... him ... rotting first."

  "See here, Richard Selbourne, I'm a good friend of yours, and I thinkI've shown it, haven't I? I wasn't in time, I know, for ... but thatwas not my fault, I came as quick as I could, and there was nothing tobe done, but you know what I risked over signing the certificate as Idid."

  "I do, and you've Mary's and my eternal gratitude, Lees ... but----"

  "Show it now, then, by fetching that cart."

  "If you knew what I do, Lees, you'd leave him here to die."

  The other laughed. "Don't be a fool, Selbourne," he said.

  "Where do you propose to take him? If it's my house you're thinking of,you can save yourself the trouble of a journey, I warn you."

  "I'm not, I'll take him to the hotel, and get him away to-morrow or theday after. You shan't see him again, I give you my word."

  Richard rose from the wall on which he was sitting.

  "On that understanding then," he said, "I'll send a cart, but don't askme to touch the fellow, because I won't. You and the boy can lift him, Isuppose, or shall I send a man?"

  "The boy and I can manage all right; he's light enough, poor devil.Please be quick, Selbourne."

  The latter walked slowly away, leaving Dr. Lees looking down on thestill unconscious figure in his arms.

  "Good thing I was watching you, my friend," he muttered. "I knew when Isaw you at the funeral you couldn't last much longer. I wonder what itall means, and what you saw just now? for you did see something, I knowthat, and probably will to the end of your days. You'll be aninteresting study in the future, Colonel Graeme, or I'm much mistaken.'Stara,' you called, and that was her name, poor girl; she poisonsherself, and my friend Dick, the most amiable fellow I know, hates you,hates you so much that he'd leave you here to die. For you would die ofexposure if I left you now; as it is, you'll be pretty bad for a day ortwo. Still, I think I've got the story all right; it's an old enoughone, God knows. Oh yes, you're a bad lot, Colonel, right enough, butit's possible you're not quite so much to blame as they think. I doubtif you're quite ... responsible; not mad--I'm sure of that--but notquite responsib
le. Ah, the cart at last! Hi, you, this way; fasten themules to the wall here, then come and help lift the Baas. Easy, that'sright now." Together they lifted the light figure into the Cape cart,and, Lees still holding it in his arms, drove away to the Spring BokHotel, Duikerport, the mules shying and plunging at the lightningplaying on the rocks around.

 
Evelyn Brentwood's Novels