The Triumph of Hilary Blachland

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  THE NET SPREAD.

  "Look at this--and this. Five altogether, and I only had six chances.Not bad, is it? They were beastly wild, you know, and I had to scrambleall over that second kopje after them."

  He flung down two substantial feathered bunches, representing _in toto_the guinea-fowl just enumerated.

  "You are a dear good boy, Justin," replied Hermia, looking down at thespoils which he had literally laid at her feet, and then up into hiseyes. They were clear and blue, the clearer for the healthy brown ofthe face. How handsome he was, she thought, glancing with a thrill ofapproval at the tall well set-up form, in all the glory of youth and thefull vigour of health. "You are really very reliable--and--you need notgo yet. Come in now, and well put away the gun, and you shall stay andhave some supper with me; for really I am awfully lonely. Unless, ofcourse, you are afraid of going to your camp so late. They say lionspoor has been seen again."

  "If it had been the devil's spoor it would matter about as much or aslittle," he replied, with huge and delighted contempt.

  "Sh! Don't talk about unpleasant subjects--or people," she retorted."It isn't lucky."

  They had entered the house. After the glow of light without, it seemedalmost dark, and the sun had just gone off the world, leaving the briefpretence of an African twilight. An arm stole around her, imprisoningher tightly.

  "I want my reward for having carried out your instructions soefficiently," said the young man. "Now give it me."

  "Reward! Virtue is its own reward, you silly boy," answered Hermia,glancing up into his eyes, with her mocking ones. "In this case, itwill have to be."

  "Will it indeed?" he retorted shortly; and, stirred by the maddeningproximity, likewise encouraged by a certain insidious yielding of herform within the enforced embrace, he dropped his lips on hers, andkissed them full, passionately, again and again.

  "There, that will do," she gasped, striving to restrain the thrill thatran through her frame. "I didn't say you might do that. Really,Justin, I shall have to forbid you the house. Let me go, do you hear?"

  "Hear? Yes, but I don't intend to obey. Oh--damn!"

  The last remark was addressed at large as he changed his mind withmarvellous alacrity, and, wheeling round, was endeavouring to hang thebandolier to the wall upon a pin that would hardly have held a Christmascard, as though his life depended upon it. For there had suddenlyentered behind them one of the small Mashuna boys who did the house andother work--had entered silently withal, the sooty little rascal; andnow his goggle eyes were starting from their sockets with curiosity ashe went about doing whatever he had to do, sending furtive andinterested glances at these two, whom he had surprised in such unwontedproximity.

  "See, now, where your impulsiveness comes in," said Hermia, when theinterrupter had gone out.

  "Is that the name of that small black nigger?" said Justin Spence,innocently. "I always thought he was yours."

  "Don't be foolish, dear. It's a serious matter."

  "Pooh! Only a small black nigger. A thing that isn't more than halfhuman."

  "Even a small black nigger owns a tongue, and is quite human enough toknow how to wag it," she reminded him.

  "I'll cut it out for the young dog if he does," was the ferociousrejoinder.

  "Excellent, as a figure of speech, my dear Justin. Only, unfortunately,in real life, even in Mashunaland, it can't be done."

  "Well, shall I give him a scare over it?"

  "You can't, Justin. In the first place, you could hardly make himunderstand. In the second, even if you could, you would probably makematters worse. Leave it alone."

  "Oh, it was on your account. It was of you I was thinking."

  "Then you don't mind on your own?"

  "Not a hang."

  She glanced at him in silent approval. This straight, erectfearlessness--this readiness to defy the whole world for her sakeappealed to her. She was of the mind of those women of other times andpeoples--the possession of whom depended on the possessor's ability totake and keep.

  "Well, I must leave you now for a little while," she said. "Those twopickannins are only of any use when I am looking after them. Theyhaven't even learnt to lay a table."

  "Let me help you."

  "No. Candidly, I don't want you. Be a good boy, Justin, and sit stilland rest after your walk. Oh, by the way--" And unlocking a cupboard,she produced a bottle of whisky. "I was very forgetful. You'll likesomething to drink after the said walk?"

  "No, thanks. Really I don't."

  "You don't? No wonder you've done no good prospecting. A prospectorwho refuses a drink after a hot afternoon's exertion! Why, you haven'tlearnt the rudiments of your craft yet. But you must want one, and soI'll fix it up for you. There, say when--is that right?" she went onbrightly, holding out the glass. "Yes, I know what you are going tosay--of course it is, if I mixed it. You ought to be ashamed to uttersuch a threadbare banality."

  He took the glass from her hand, but set it down untasted. Themagnetism of her eyes had drawn him. It seemed to madden him, to saphis very reason, to stir every fibre in his body.

  "No," she said decidedly, deftly eluding the clasp in which he wouldfain have imprisoned her again, and extending a warning hand. "No, notagain,--so soon," she added mentally. "Remember, I have not forgivenyou for that outrageous piece of impertinence, and don't know that Ishall either. I am wondering how you could have dared."

  If ever there was a past mistress in the art of fooling the other sex,assuredly Hermia Blachland might lay claim to that distinction.Standing there in the doorway, flashing back a bright, half-teasing,half-caressing look, which utterly belied the seeming sternness of herwords, the effect she produced was such as to turn him _instanter_ intoa most complete fool, because her thorough and subservient slave. Thenshe went out.

  We have said that one of the large circular huts within the enclosureserved the purpose of a kitchen, and hither she proceeded with theexceedingly useful and unromantic object of getting supper ready. Yet,standing there in the midst of stuffy and uninviting surroundings, asshe supervised the Mashuna boys and the frying of the antelope steaks,even that prosaic occupation was not entirely devoid of romanceto-night; for somehow she found herself discharging it extra carefully,for was it not for him?

  "Now, Tickey, keep those goggle eyes of yours on what you're doing,instead of rolling them around on everything and everybody else," shewarned, apostrophising the small boy whose entrance had been soinopportune a short time ago.

  "Yes, missis," replied the urchin, his round face splitting into astripe of dazzling white as he grinned from ear to ear, whether at therecollection of what he had recently beheld, or out of sheer unthinkinglight-heartedness. Then he turned and made some remark in their ownlanguage to his companion, which caused that sooty imp to grin andchuckle too.

  "What's that you're grinning at, you little scamp?" said Hermia,sharply, with a meaning glance at a thin sjambok which hung on the wall,a cut or two from which was now and again necessary to keep thesediminutive servitors up to the mark.

  "No be angry, missis. Tickey, he say, `Missis, she awful damn pretty.'"

  Hermia choked down a well-nigh uncontrollable explosion of laughter.

  "You mustn't use that word, Primrose," she said, trying to look stern."It's a bad word."

  "Bad word? How that, missis? Baas, he say it. Baas in dere--BaasSepence," was the somewhat perplexing rejoinder.

  "Well, it's a white man's word; not a word for children, black orwhite," explained Hermia, lamely.

  The imps chuckled. "I no say it, missis," pursued Primrose. "Tickey,he say missis awful beastly pretty. Always want to look at her. Workno well done, missis' fault. Dat what Tickey say. Always want look atmissis."

  "You'd better look at what you're doing now, you monkey, and do itproperly too, or you know what's likely to happen," rejoined Hermia.But the implied threat in this case was absolutely an empty one, and thesoo
ty scamps knew it. They knew, too, how to get on the soft side oftheir mistress.

  That, however, was the side very much to the fore this evening.Throughout her prosaic occupation, her mind would recur with a thrill tothat scene of a short half-hour ago, and already she longed for itsrepetition. But she was not going to give him too much. She musttantalise him sufficiently, must keep him on tenterhooks, not makeherself too cheap. But was she not tantalising herself too? Certainlyshe was, but therein lay the zest, the excitement which lent keenness tothe sport.

  They sat down to table together. The door stood open on account of theheat, and, every now and then, winged insects, attracted by the light,would come whizzing round the lamp. There was a soft, home-like lookabout the room, a kind of pervading presence, and Justin Spence, baskingin that presence, felt intoxicatingly happy. He could hardly keep hiseyes from her as she sat at the head of the modest table, and theartificial light, somewhat shaded, toned down any defects of feature orcolouring, and enhanced twenty-fold the expression and animation whichwith her physical contour, constituted the insidious and undefinableattraction which was her greatest charm. Looking at these two it washard to believe they were the inmates of a rough pioneer hut in the farwilds of Mashunaland, but for the attire of one of them; for a whitesilk shirt, rather open at the throat, guiltless of coat or waistcoat, aleathern belt and riding breeches hardly constitutes evening dress inmore civilised countries.

  He was telling her about himself, his position and prospects, to all ofwhich she was listening keenly, especially as regards the latter, yetwithout seeming to. She knew, none better, how to lead him on to talk,always without seeming to, and now, to-night, she was simply turning himinside out. He had prospects and good solid ones. He had only come outhere partly from love of adventure, partly because, after all, prospectsare only prospects; and he wanted to make a fortune--a quick anddazzling fortune by gold-digging. So far, he had been no nearer makingit than most others out there on the same tack, in that, for all thegold he had struck, he might as well have sunk a shaft on HampsteadHeath. Still, there was no knowing, and all the exciting possibilitieswere there to spur him on.

  Afterwards they sat outside. The night, though warm and balmy, was notoppressive. And it was very still. The screech of the tree frog, thedistant yelp of a jackal, the deeper howl of a hyena, broke in upon itfrom time to time, and the rhythmic drone of voices from the servants'quarters. This soon ceased and the world seemed given over to night--and these two.

  "How will you find your way back?" Hermia was saying. "You'll getlost."

  "That's quite likely. So I'm not going to try. You'll have to give mea shakedown here."

  "No. Justin, dear, believe me it would be much better not. You musteven risk the chance of getting lost."

  "What if I'm afraid? Suppose one of those lions they've been talkingabout got hold of me? It would be your doing."

  Hermia smiled to herself. The excuse was too transparent. He afraid!The gleam of her white teeth in the darkness betrayed her.

  "It's no laughing matter," he said. "Listen, darling, you don't reallywant to get rid of me?"

  "It would be better if you were to go, dearest," she answered, slippingher hand into his. "Believe me, it would."

  The softness of her voice, the thrill of her touch simply intoxicatedhim with ecstasy, and there was an unsteadiness in his tone as heanswered--

  "Surely in the wilds of Mashunaland we can chuck conventionalities tothe winds. If it was any one else who asked you for a shakedown youwouldn't turn him out. Why me, then?"

  "Because it is you, don't you see?" was the reply, breathed low andsoft, as the pressure of her fingers tightened.

  They could hear each other's heart-beats in the still dead silence--could see the light of each other's eyes in the gleam of the myriadstars. The trailing streak of a meteor shot across the dark, velvetyvault, showing in its momentary gleam to each the face of the other.Suddenly Hermia started violently.

  "Hark! what is that?" she cried, springing to her feet.

  For a loud harsh shout had cleft the stillness of the night. It wasfollowed by another and another. Coming as it did upon the deadsilence, the interruption was, to say the least, startling: all the moreso to these two, their nerves in a state of high-strung tension.

  "Nothing very alarming," returned Spence. "You must have heard itbefore. Only a troop of baboons kicking up a row in the kopjes."

  "Of course; but somehow it sounded so loud and so near."

  It was destined to do so still more. For even as she spoke there arosea most indescribable tumult--shrieks and yells and chattering, and overall that harsh, resounding bark: and it came from the granite kopjenearest the house--where Spence had found the troop of guinea-fowl thatafternoon.

  "What a row they're making!" he went on. "Hallo! By Jove! D'you hearthat?"

  For over and above the simian clamour, another sound was discernible--asound of unmistakable import. No one need go to Mashunaland to hear it,nor anything like as far. A stroll across Regent's Park towards feedingtime at the Zoo will do just as well. It was the deep, throaty,ravening roar of hungry lions.

  "Phew! that accounts for all the shindy!" said Justin. "Now do you wantme to go, Hermia? There isn't much show for one against a lion in thedark, and, judging from the racket, there must be several. Well, shallI start?"

  She had drawn closer to him instinctively; not that there was anydanger, for the stockade was high and strong--in fact, had been erectedwith an eye to such emergency. Now they were strained together in aclose embrace, this time she returning his kisses with more than his ownpassion.

  "You are mine--mine at last, my heart, my life!" he whispered. And theanswer came back, merely breathed--

  "Yes, I am. All yours."

  And above, the myriad eyes of the starry heavens looked down; andwithout, the horrible throaty growl of the ravening beasts rent thenight.