VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
LILIAN.
"There. I'm quite ready now. I'm so sorry if I have delayed you, and Ifear I have."
"Not at all. We are starting in very good time as it is, and have thewhole day before us."
The place is the drawing-room of an hotel in Grahamstown; the time,rather early in the morning; and the first of the two speakers, a tall,beautiful girl, who has just finished fastening together two or threearticles of light hand-baggage as the second enters to tell her that theconveyance is all ready at the door. She wears a close-fitting dress ofcool white, which, though making her appear taller, sets off to thefullest advantage a graceful, undulating figure. Waves of dark hair,touched, as it were, with a glint of bronze, half conceal the smoothbrow, and the beautiful oval face, with its straight,delicately-chiselled features, is most killingly and becomingly framedin a large garden hat, lined with soft lace. The eyes are of thatdifficult-to-determine hue which is best defined as green hazel, and asensitive curve about the lips imparts to the whole face a tinge ofmelancholy when in repose. In fact, there is a trifle of coldness aboutits normal expression. But when it lights up--when its owner smiles--asshe now does very sweetly upon him, who is to be her travellingcompanion and escort throughout that day--then its charm becomesdangerous, so inexpressibly captivating is it.
"_Is sweetly pretty, and has the loveliest eyes I ever saw_," had beenMrs Brathwaite's dictum. And Claverton there and then mentallyacquitted the old lady of one jot of exaggeration as his glance restedfor the first time upon Lilian Strange when she entered the roomprepared for the journey--fresh, cool, and in all the composure of herstately beauty. She greeted him perfectly naturally and unaffectedly,and apologised for delay, real or imaginary, as we have seen.
He had called at the hotel the evening before, to deliver a note fromMrs Brathwaite, and to inform Miss Strange in person about her journey.In the latter object he was disappointed. Miss Strange sent down amessage, apologising for being unable to see him, on the ground offatigue. She would, however, be quite ready to start at the hour named.And Claverton, beyond a slight curiosity to inspect one who would befor a considerable time an inmate of the same household as himself,didn't care one way or another. Miss Strange would be there all righton the morrow, and he meanwhile would go and look up a friend at thevery poor attempt at a club which the city boasted.
He had expected to see a pretty girl, possibly a very pretty girl, butnothing like this. As it has been said, he was not a susceptible man.In point of fact, he rather looked down on the fair sex, a fewindividual members of it excepted. Yet now, as he handed his chargeinto the light buggy which stood waiting at the door, he was consciousof an unwonted quickening of the pulse. Not then was he able to analysethe subtle fascination of her beauty and of her manner, theextraordinary charm of her voice--such a voice as it was, too; low,rich, musical; the kind of voice that could not by any possibility havebelonged to a plain woman.
"Thanks; they are not in my way in the least," said that bewilderingvoice as Claverton was making impossible efforts to move certain parcelsin the bottom of the trap--impossible, because of the very limited spaceafforded by the confines of a buggy--at the same time keeping a firmhand on the rather fresh pair of horses which were bowling down thestreet at a fine pace. Early as it was, the streets were filling withtraffic; huge loads of wool on buck-waggons from up the country crawlingin behind their long spans of oxen; farmers' carts and buggies;horsemen; and everywhere the inevitable native, male and female.
"The worst of it is that the bare fact of coming to the town entailsupon one multifold commissions, utterly regardless of space or carryingpower," he answered. "Look at those bundles, for instance. Not a thirdof what I was to have fetched, and shall catch it for not bringing out."
Lilian laughed.
"Never mind. I'll bear witness in your favour. And now tell me, whendo we reach Seringa Vale?"
"Not before sundown. I'm afraid you'll be dreadfully done up. It'svery spirited of you to travel two days running like this. I wonder youdidn't allow yourself a day here to rest after coming up all the wayfrom Port Elizabeth yesterday."
"It was tiring, certainly. But I've had a good night's rest, and thissort of travelling is quite luxurious after the passenger-cart. Is itgoing to be very hot?"
"I'm afraid it'll be warm, but not dusty, which is something to bethankful for. The heavy shower in the night has done that much for us.Look! Grahamstown shows well from here."
A curve in the road brought the city into full view, lying beneath,embowered in its bosky gardens.
"Yes. But I don't see anything to admire in these colonial towns. Theyare not even picturesque. Frightfully dusty, oppressively hot, andstreets and buildings absolutely hideous."
"I agree with you. Look at this one, for instance. That mound of bakedclay, plastered up wet and left to dry, which we passed at starting andwhich can hardly be distinguished now, doesn't look much like acathedral, does it? Yet it is. Then that fifth-rate mongrel CornExchange you see--there--is the Eastern Districts Court, second templeof Justice in the land. That square barn-like wool-store, beyond theclay cathedral, is a Methodist chapel with a truly appalling front. Itis the prize barracoon of that connexion, and its habitues fondlycherish the conviction that it is a second Milan. The building awaythere against the hill is to be admired, isn't it? Built for a barrackit remains a barrack, though it is now a public hospital. The town ispretty, thanks to its situation and trees, but there isn't adecent-looking building in it."
"I want to see something of the country," went on Lilian. "It ought tobe lovely, judging from what I saw of it coming along in the post-cartyesterday. And I've seen nothing of it as yet."
"Here we are, then. What do you think of that?" said her companion, as,having crested the hill which shut the city from view, he whipped up hishorses and they sped merrily along an elevated flat, dashing aside thedewdrops which lay thickly studding the short grass like a field ofdiamonds. The sun was not long up, and a white morning mist hung hereand there among the sprays of the bush, but overhead all was dazzlingblue. The view was extensive. Wooded ridges melted away afar in thesoft morning light, and in the distant background the crescent range ofthe Great Winterberg rose purple and dim.
"Oh, but this is lovely!" cried Lilian. "Don't laugh at me, MrClaverton, but it is like drinking in new life after being pent up in adusty town."
"I'd rather be shot than laugh at you," he answered, with an earnestnessvery unwonted in him. "I am only too glad you should find anything toenjoy in what I feared would be to you a very tedious journey. Stillmore glad am I that it has been my luck to escort you."
It was about the first genuine compliment he had ever paid to a woman inhis life, and yet he seemed totally unconscious of intending anycompliment at all. He could hardly take his glance off the beautiful,animated face beside him. And how was it that this same escort duty hadfallen to his lot? When Lilian Strange found out at nearly the lastmoment that the opportunity on which she relied of getting to SeringaVale had fallen through, Mr Brathwaite had made arrangements to go toGrahamstown and fetch her himself. But a sharp attack of rheumatismprecluded this, and Hicks, who otherwise would have been told off onthis mission, and who had his own reasons for not wishing to be awayfrom home two days, easily prevailed on his friend to go instead of him.
On they sped, now ascending a hill at a foot's pace, now bowling brisklydown the next declivity, as the road wound over the rolling country. ToLilian the journey, so far from being a tedious one, was whollydelightful. She was vividly interested in everything. Even the littlemeercats, which sat upright on their hind legs a few yards from the roadand then bolted into their burrows at the approach of the horses, camein for a share of her notice and admiration. A solitary secretary bird,stalking away down in the hollow, became the subject of numerousinquiries, and she gazed with awe upon a cloud of great white vulturessoaring overhead bound for some def
unct horse or sheep, appearing fromnowhere and disappearing as mysteriously. To the English girl, with herkeen love of Nature, even these insignificant representatives of wildAfrican animal life were full of interest.
They passed a large ostrich farm lying beneath them on the slope, andshe could hardly believe her companion's statement that the distantblack specks at the farther ends of their respective enclosures were asformidable as the traditional mad bull, until a large troop often-months-old ostriches, under charge of herds, swept past, and he drewher attention to their size, and the strength of those long legsterminating in a sharp, horny toe, capable of ripping a man up. But thebirds looked very handsome, very picturesque as they careered by, theirsnowy plumes extended and waving, and she was delighted with the picturethey made, though her enjoyment was tempered with alarm as the horsesshowed signs of restiveness. But Claverton reassured her, and theostriches and their keepers were soon left far behind.
"You live at Seringa Vale, do you not, Mr Claverton?"
"Well, yes; I do at present. I am jackarooing there, as they say inAustralia, which is to say that I am imbibing instruction in the craftin consideration of my valuable services."
"And are you going to settle out here, then?"
"To settle! H'm! How do you know I wasn't born and bred out here?"
"I suppose because there's some sort of secret sign by which oneimportation can detect another," answered Lilian. "I don't believe youhave been out here as long as I have."
"Do I look so thoroughly the `new chum,' then? Point out theconspicuous sign of `rawness,' that I may at once eradicate it, if it isworth eradicating, that is."
"No. I refuse to reveal my masonic sign," she answered, gaily; "but Iknow I am right in my conjecture. I could tell the moment I saw you.Am I not right? Now confess!"
"Yes and no. That is to say, it is only three months since I leftEngland this time; but before that I was out here in South Africa forseveral years."
"Then I cannot claim seniority of standing, after all. Are there anymore `importations' at Seringa Vale?"
"Yes. Hicks. But he's so thoroughly acclimatised that he don't count.You and I are exiles and sojourners in a far country. I foresee weshall be talking British `shop' to a grievous extent," said Claverton,not that he cared a rush about England, or had any great reason to, forthe matter of that, but it would establish an _entente_ with hisbeautiful travelling companion, a something quite between themselves.He was surprised to notice a wearied and even pained expression flitacross the lovely face, like the shadow of a cloud passing over thebright smooth surface of a mountain lake.
"I don't know. I think I would rather forget all about England," shereplied, sadly. "It is a subject with no fascination for me. As I'mhere in this country I want to like it, and it is highly probable that Ishall, at any rate during the next two months. By-the-bye, what dearold people Mr and Mrs Brathwaite are!"
"That they are," assented the other, heartily. And then for the life ofhim he could not help subsiding into silence. She had a history, then.She would fain forget the land of her birth. It was not wholly thestern law of necessity that had banished her to a distant land to fightthe rough, hard battle of life. There was another cause, and glancingat her as she sat beside him, Claverton thought he could in a measureguess at the nature of that cause. His pulses were strangely stirred,and even then he was conscious of a longing to comfort her, of a wild,unreasoning resentment against some person unknown. Remarkable, wasn'tit, considering he had only seen her for the first time in his life thatmorning, and that now it was still far short of midday?
But two persons of opposite sexes, both young, both goodly to look upon,and under circumstances situated such as these two, will, I trow, findit difficult to preserve silence for long--seated side by side in thecircumscribed space of a buggy. Lilian was the first to break it.
"What was that?" she asked, eagerly, as a loud resounding bark echoedforth from the hillside above them.
"Only a baboon. Look, there he is--that black speck up there; and theothers are not far off."
They were driving through a wild and narrow pass. High overhead greatmasses of rock cut the skyline in fantastic piles, castellated here,riven there, and apparently about to crumble in pieces, and hurlthemselves down upon the road. Thick bush grew right down to the roadwinding along the side of the hill, which here and there fell straightaway from it in rather an alarming and precipitous manner.
It was just at the most alarming of these places that a few puffs ofdust and a crack or two of a whip betokened the approach of waggons, andthe next moment the foremost of them appeared round a jutting corner ofrock. Claverton muttered an imprecation as he noted that the oxen werewithout a leader, straggling across the very narrow road at their ownsweet will, and bearing down upon him and his charge a great deal fasterthan he liked. The waggon, loaded sky high with wool bales, was still acouple of hundred yards off, but the road from it to the buggy was abrisk declivity; there seemed very insufficient brake on, and no sign ofany one in charge. One of two things was likely to happen: either thebuggy would be splintered into matchwood against the inner side of theroad, or hurled into perdition over the outer one, by the ponderous massnow bearing down uncontrolled upon it. Claverton reined in his horsesand hallooed angrily.
An ugly, mud-coloured head rose from the apex of the pile; thenapparently subsided.
"Where's your `leader,' you _schepsel_?" he shouted in Dutch. "Get offand stop your fore oxen, or, by God, I'll shoot them dead on the spot."
The situation was critical, it must be remembered. A sooty imp of a boyglided to the front of the span, and succeeded in bringing them up justin time. The huge, unwieldy machine rolled creaking past the buggy,narrowly grazing it with the wool bales. The Hottentot driver raisedhis ugly head and leered insolently.
"Hey, you, Engelschman! Don't you know how to pass a waggon yet?" heshouted.
Quickly Claverton stood up, and by dint of a dexterous "flick," cut thefellow with his driving-whip in such wise as to chip a weal of skin outof his face, and then the pace of the passing vehicles carried him outof reach.
The Hottentot yelled and cursed with rage and pain; but there wassomething so threatening in Claverton's face and the sudden movement hemade as if to descend and make a further example of him that the fellowthought better of it, and dropped the empty grog bottle which he hadbeen about to shy after the trap. He solaced himself, however, with ashower of parting curses.
"Lord, Lord! To think that I should have to sit still and be cheeked bya dirty drunken Tottie," said Claverton to himself yet aloud, as ifoblivious of his companion. Yet he had to. He could hardly drop thereins and leave her there in the middle of an excessively narrow anddangerous bit of road, with a pair of very fresh and somewhat restivehorses on hand, while he went to wreak further vengeance on the impudentrascal whose carelessness might have been productive of a seriouscatastrophe. He was handicapped altogether.
It was an earnest of real life. By himself, with only himself to thinkof, he could take care of himself. In charge of another, would he nothave to swallow tons and tons over and above the traditional peck of"matter in the wrong place" without a murmur? He would be handicappedaltogether. Philosopher as he was, it was hardly likely that such aconsideration should obtrude at this moment.
The other waggon was engineered by a couple of quiet-looking and civilKafirs, who gave them plenty of roadway and the good-morning as theypassed.
Claverton stole a glance at his companion's face. She had been not alittle startled, he could see that, yet she kept her composure, and thefact pleased him. Most women under the circumstances would have let flyexclamations of alarm, perhaps shrieked, possibly even might havegrabbed convulsively at the reins--that most blindly idiotic and utterlyexasperating phase of feminine scare upon wheels. This one, however,only changed colour ever so little, but did and said nothing.
"Here we are at an `hotel,' as they call it in this country,"
heremarked, pointing out a seedy-looking domicile, like unto a fifth-rateDutch farmhouse, which hove in sight before them. "We can either stopthere, or drive on a little farther and outspan in the _veldt_,whichever you prefer."
"Oh, do let us outspan in the _veldt_," answered Lilian, gleefully."The drive is lovely, and a picnic in the middle of it will be quite theright thing."
"Of course it will--or rather two picnics, for we shall have to outspanagain. Look, we don't lose much by giving that barracoon the go-by," hewent on, as they passed the edifice in question. "Goat chops verytough, pumpkin and rice, and Cape sherry, are about the only items inits bill of fare, I venture to predict."
"Horrible!" declared Lilian, with a laughing grimace.
They drove on a little farther, and halted in a beautiful spot, by apool of clear, but brackish water, thickly overhung with bush andtrailing plants, where Lilian was delighted with the colony of pendulousfinks' nests swaying to and fro as their startled occupants dashed inand out, chirping volubly. Claverton took the horses to the water, thenknee-haltered and allowed them to roll while he placed on the ground oneof the couple of bundles of oat-hay which were carried in the buggy fortheir benefit. Then he returned to his charge.
"I must apologise, Miss Strange. The rule of the _veldt_ is not that ofsociety. Here it is, `horses first.'"
He spread the wraps, which kind, thoughtful Mrs Brathwaite had sent forLilian's use, under a shady tree, making her a comfortable seat. Thenhe unearthed the commissariat, of which the staple articles were achicken and a bottle of Moselle.
"But this is far too luxurious," protested Lilian, her beautiful facesparkling with animation. She was thoroughly enjoying theunconventionally of the whole thing. "I declare it does not seem likecamping in the bush if we are to revel in luxury."
"Take it easy while you can. That's the secret of true philosophy. Thegoat chops and pumpkin and rice will come, all in good time."
She laughed gaily. Then she threw off her large straw hat, and pushedup her dark hair as if to ease it of the weight. Not a detail of themovement or its effect escaped her companion. He had not yet seen herwithout her hat. It is surprising what a difference this outdoorappendage makes in the appearance of some women. He noted, withoutsurprise, that Lilian Strange looked equally beautiful either way.
"Mr Claverton, why don't you smoke?" she asked, as, having lunched,there was a dreamy pause in the conversation.
"I thought you might object. But--how do you know I indulge in thechimney trick?"
"Object? No, I'm not so selfish as that. And as for how I knew, Imight answer all men do, but I won't. The fact is, you made a quiteunconscious and mechanical dive at your pocket, and brought out half apipe. I'll give you credit that the move _was_ quite unconscious."
"It was, upon my honour. What a magician you are--you noticeeverything."
It has been stated that Lilian Strange possessed an extraordinarilydangerous and captivating smile. She was in one of her softest moodsnow, thoroughly enjoying the fresh air and wild, extensive scenery; andthe drive, the impromptu picnic _a deux_, and above all her lateemancipation from distasteful drudgery amid uncongenial surroundings,and the prospect of two months' rest from the same. Then she had takena great liking to her travelling escort; short as had been the period oftheir acquaintance. So that now as she lay back, laughing over thequaint dryness of the said escort's remarks, it could not be but thather winning and attractive spell should weave itself around him to thefull. This girl was something quite new in Claverton's experience. Thesoft, sweet tones of her voice, her glorious beauty, her very ways andmovements, seemed to cast a glamour over him such as he had never knownbefore in the course of his life. Bright, teasing Ethel Brathwaite,blue-eyed, sunny, impulsive, seemed poor clay when contrasted with thisnew arrival with the lovely, expressive face and the undulating,sensuous form--so stately and yet so unaffected and appreciative--socold of demeanour, at times, and withal so sweet and considerate. Yetnineteen men out of twenty would have given the preference to Ethel; butthen it may be that this other one would have favoured the nineteen withthe coldness devoid of the consideration.
Be this as it may, Claverton was certainly the twentieth in both senses,and, as they sat there, resting in the golden sunshine, the drowsy airaround them made musical by the whistling of spreuws and the hum ofsummer insects, he, at any rate, found himself wishing that that hourmight last throughout an eternity.
And the curious part of it was that he had not known her for hoursenough to make a double figure.
But time cannot be trifled with, and they were due at Seringa Valebefore dark. So the horses were put to in a trice.
"Can't I help you in any way?" said Lilian. "It seems so hard that youshould have all the trouble while I sit still and look on."
"It's no trouble at all," answered the other, tugging vigorously at arefractory strap. "I wouldn't let you bother about this sort of thingfor the world. In fact, I am only too glad that you are not tired todeath with the long, hot ride. And I think we'll put the hood up, forthere's no shade between this and the next outspan."
Now came the hottest stage of the journey. The full glare of the sunfocussed down into the broad valley, beat fiercely upon the tent of thebuggy, and, but for the rapid movement creating its own draught, therewas not a breath of air. Lilian began to feel drowsy and could havepleaded guilty to an incipient headache, but she did not complain. Hercompanion, however, detected the tired look in her eyes, and was greatlyconcerned; but she laughed it off. She would be all right again when itgot cooler, she said. It was really very silly of her, but she was justa trifle below par.
On this point he rather vehemently reassured her. Why, he himself oftenfelt as if about to get a sunstroke riding through these long, hotvalleys, just in the middle of the day--and he was a tolerablywell-seasoned traveller. But it is to be feared that, for once in hislife, he forgot to spare the horses in his anxiety to reach the end ofthat stage.
Lilian, however, forgot her fatigue, as after the next outspan theywended up the rugged, but picturesque bush-road, in the golden light ofthe waning afternoon. They were in shade for the most part now, and theair grew cooler as they ascended gradually out of the stifling valley,where the river they had crossed a little while ago, flowed sparkling inthe sun like a silver thread. Opposite, a row of stiff euphorbia rearedtheir plumed heads, their stems, straight and regular as a line oforgan-pipes, standing out from the darksome, rocky glen behind them likethe bars of a gloomy cage enclosing some ferocious beast. There, agreat cliff, overhung with lichens and monkey ropes, startingcapriciously from among the greenness, and everywhere a shining sea ofbush; not silent, either, but resounding with evidence of animal andinsect life. Far away, almost inaudible, the harsh bark of the sentinelbaboon; close at hand, oppressive in its vociferation, the shrillchirrup of crickets. Hoopoes were softly calling to each other from thetangled recesses of some cool and shady nook; and a bright louri, in allthe pride of his crimson wings and glossy plumage, darted across theroad.
When they arrived at Seringa Vale, all its inmates were at the door towelcome Lilian.
"I hope Arthur took great care of you, my dear," said Mrs Brathwaite,the first genial greetings over.
"I have to thank Mr Claverton for taking the greatest possible care ofme," answered Lilian, flashing at him one of her sweetest smiles.
For a brief second their eyes met. One standing there noted both thoseglances and read them like an open book--read in one, possibility; inthe other, certainty. And Ethel was forced to admit that her aunt'sdescription of their visitor's attractions was not one whit exaggerated.
And it had all come about in a single day.