VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER ELEVEN.
"HAVE YOU NO SECRET ENEMY?"
"Good-bye!"
Who among us has not uttered the mournful word? Not merely in airy,hollow fashion, when passing out of a drawing-room door, but in diresadness, as we look our last upon the face from which we are about to bedivided by time or distance--and, it may be, upon which there is smallchance of our ever looking again in life? The train rolls out of thestation; the plank is hurriedly thrown back on to the thronged quay,and, as the great ship glides from her moorings handkerchiefs wave andvoices no longer audible to each other still continue to articulate, itmay be in accents of heartsick pain, or through a forced and brokensmile, or even in tones of genuine cheerfulness, the saddest of allwords--"Good-bye."
The fatal Monday morning has come at last; and there, in the grey dawn,Lilian stands bidding farewell to her lover. A light is burning in thesitting-room, and without it is almost dark, for the morning is loweringand cloudy. Now and then a puff of warm wind, which seems to heraldrain, sighs mournfully through the trees, whirling up the dust in littleeddies along the empty street--and they two are alone, for none of thehousehold are astir, which neither regrets. And thus they stand,looking into each other's eyes and both hesitating to frame theword--"Good-bye."
The conditions of parting are unequal, it is true. To the man, goingforth on this dark, desolate morning, the time of separation will beabundantly occupied--downright hard, honest soldiering--no mere child'splay, and if during those long months there is hardship and privation,there is also the excitement of peril and the stir of strife, the roughsociality of camp, and the healthful glow and energy of life in theopen. To the woman it means a period of weary and inactive waiting; ofdays unbrightened by the strong, tender presence she has learnt to loveso dearly; of nights, wakeful and self-tormenting, when the overwroughtbrain will conjure up visions of deadly peril, of the flashing spearsand wild war-cry of the savage foe, of the wasting form of fell diseasefollowing on wet and exposure, of the swift lightning and the raging offlooded rivers, and every contingency probable and improbable, attendantupon campaigning in a barbarous land.
"Wherever you are, and whatever you do, you _will_ take care ofyourself," she is saying. "You will not run any unnecessary risks, evenfor other people. Your life belongs to me now, love."
"It does," he answers, softly and tenderly. "Keep up a good heart, mysweet. Don't go imagining all sorts of horrors while I am away, for,remember, that after these years I was not sent back to you to be takenaway again. Mine is a charmed life--never fear."
"I believe so, indeed," she answers, looking at him fondly--proudly, andsmiling through her tears.
"Why, Arthur, I would not keep you if I could, now. It is such as youwho should be to the fore at present, and how could they supply _your_place?"
He makes no reply for a moment, but presses his kisses faster upon thesoft hair and sweet, up-turned face, and he is sad and heavy at heart;though he will affect as much cheerfulness as he can, with the object ofmaking light of things. And there seems some excuse for her impliedencomium, looking at him as he stands--ready and calm, entirely devoidof any affectation of the military in his dress or accoutrements; butyet, the very ideal of the frontier civilian soldier.
"Keep up a brave heart, my own," he murmurs again. "The day will sooncome when we shall look back to this, as one of the sad experiences ofthe past, even as we look back to that other time. This is a merepassing minute compared with that."
"Ah, yes. Now I am delaying you, and you must go. God keep you,darling, and bring you back to me safe again. Good-bye."
One more strong, loving embrace, and he is gone. He throws himself uponhis horse, which Sam has with difficulty been holding, and its impatienthoof-strokes ring through the empty street as he turns for one last lookat the graceful figure waving him a farewell from the gate, and for themoment he feels inclined to retrace his steps, go straight back andresign the post which, all unsought, has been thrust upon him, and allowthe war to take care of itself as far as he is concerned.
And Lilian, returning to the deserted room, now so desolate and empty toher, as the dawn reduces the light of the candles to a pale garishflicker, feels the tears welling up afresh as she reproaches herself fornot having kept him at any cost, for round her heart is a terribleforeboding of evil to come--how, when, and in what form the future willreveal. Yet the feeling is there.
We must follow the wayfarer. Throughout the whole day he rodemechanically forward, absorbed in his own thoughts. A heavy storm drovehim for shelter to a wretched roadside inn; but ever impatient to bemoving, he left before it was nearly over. The roads wet and slipperywith the rain rendered progress slow, so that by the time it grew darkhe was still some miles from Hicks' farm, where he intended to pass thenight.
"I'm afraid we've lost the way," he ruminated, as having gone somedistance up a long, bush-covered valley, he began to feel rather out ofhis bearings. "Sam! Where the devil are we?"
"Don't know, Inkos. I never was here before. Look. There's a house!"
"So there is. We'll make for it," and, picking up their horses' heads,they approached the dwelling, which was a sorry-looking affair. Darkerand darker it grew, and a drizzling shower began to fall. Suddenly alight gleamed from the ill-closed window, and at the same time a man'svoice, raised high in expostulation, reached their ears--a voice notunfamiliar to Claverton, withal, and in its tones he caught his ownname. Quickly he dismounted.
"Sam," he whispered. "Take the horses out of sight, there, in thebush--quietly, d'you hear? And if you hear a row, come and look afterme without a moment's loss. You'll soon see which way to shoot."
"Yeh bo 'Nkos," replied the ready-witted native, whose eyes sparkledwith excitement. Then silently, and with a rapid glide, Claverton madehis way round to the back of the house. Through a chink under thewindow-joist he could see the interior of a room--a mouldy, disusedroom, with damp, discoloured walls, and rotting beams festooned withcobwebs; but the place wore a look of familiarity to him, even as asight or a sound which now and then will strike our imaginations as inno wise to be accounted for save in the previous experience of a dream.For a moment he was puzzled; then it flashed upon him that he waslooking into the room where he and Ethel Brathwaite had taken refuge onthe night of the storm. Yes; there was the very place where she hadslept and he had covered her with his cloak, and where she had sat whenterrified by the wolf; and, straining his gaze further, he almostexpected to see that quadruped's footsteps in the dust by the half-opendoor. A fire burnt in the middle of the room, and there by the side ofit lay the very stone he had used for a seat. It all seemed so strangethat he seriously began to think he must be dreaming.
But he was wide awake enough as the sound of voices was heard, and twomen entered the room from outside, closing the door after them. And inone of them Claverton recognised his recruit of yesterday; the other hehad never seen before. He was an Englishman--a tall, dark man, wellmade and erect of carriage, evidently a gentleman by birth, and yet witha certain sinister expression that would have led the watcher to regardhim with distrust even had he not heard his own name brought into theconversation.
"It's all right, Sharkey," this one was saying.
"Your ears must have played you tricks. There's no sign of any onemoving."
"No, there ain't. Well, now, Cap'n, about this devil Claverton?"
"Yes, I'll be as good as my word. One hundred pounds, this day sixmonths."
"Make it two, Cap'n; make it two. He's a devil to deal with--a verydevil. You don't know him as well as I do."
"No; one. Not another stiver. And now, are you downright sure thatArthur Lidwell and Arthur Claverton are one and the same man? Could youswear to him?"
The mulatto laughed--a hideous, hyaena-like grin--showing the long,sharp, canine teeth which had gained him his repellent sobriquet.
"Swear to him?" he cried. "I'd swear to him in a million! I recognisedhim dir
ectly I set eyes on him in the crowd at `King.' But the younglady spotted me sharp as a needle, and I had to hide. She does seemawful fond of him. Why, when I--"
"Drop that damned nonsense, Sharkey, and stick to the point?" exclaimedthe Englishman, with a deep frown.
"Very sorry, Cap'n. Well, I was going to say, I knew him, and, what'smore, he knew me."
"The devil he did!"
"Yes. He recognised me first when I met him on the road on Saturday,riding with the young lady; then afterwards I spoke to him, but he wasthat high and lofty! I told him my name, and watched him closely; thenI called him by his name that he carried up there--just let it slip,like--and, would you believe it?--he never winced!"
"Didn't he?"
"No, he didn't. Says he: `Never saw you before in my life!' as cool asyou please. Ah, he's a plucky devil is Lidwell; he always was!" saidthe mulatto, with a sigh of admiration.
"Why do you owe him a grudge?" asked the other, curiously.
"He knocked me down once, Cap'n--hit me here, bang on the nose." Andthe speaker's features assumed a look of deadly malice. "He shot me,too, and left me for dead. I could forgive him that, but not the whackon the nose."
"So help me Heaven, I'll repeat that operation with interest beforeyou're many weeks older, friend Sharkey," muttered the watcher, betweenhis set teeth.
"And then--one hundred pounds," went on the fellow. "Hist! I'm certainI heard something." And both men sat in an attitude of listening. Fora moment there was dead silence; then the Englishman rose. "I'll justtake a look round, to make sure," he said, producing a revolver andgoing out into the night, while Claverton, drawing his own weapon,crouched there, covering the angle of the tenement round which heexpected his enemy to appear; for that this man was, for some cause orother, his deadly enemy was obvious. He would have the advantage ofhim, however, for his eyes were accustomed to the darkness, whereas theother had just come out of the light. For a moment he waited--anxious,expectant--but no one appeared; then he heard the two men's voicesinside again, and, peering through the crevice, saw the Englishmanreturn, shutting the door behind him.
"All right; there's no one moving. You do hear the most unaccountablenoises, though, in this infernal bush at night."
"Ha, ha, ha! So you do, Cap'n; and you'll hear plenty more when you getup there to the front among the Kafirs," said the other, with a mockinglaugh. "When do you leave?"
"As soon as I get my command. Now, no tricks, Sharkey. In three monthsthis fellow must have disappeared. No violence, mind; _but he must beinduced to leave the country_;" and he emphasised the words with asignificant look into the other's face. "Mind, you mustn't hurt him."
"All right, Cap'n. I've joined his levies. What d'you think of that,hey? I'm not a bad shot, you know, and there's no fear of my mistakinga Kafir for any one else, or any one else for a Kafir, eh? Ha, ha, ha!"and the villain winked his yellow eyes with a murderous leer.
The Englishman's dark features grew red and then white. "By Jove,Sharkey, but you're a knowing one," he said. "I'm deuced glad I ranagainst you. One hundred pounds, fair and square."
"Bight you are, Cap'n. One hundred pounds, and," sinking his voice to awhisper, every word of which was audible to the listener, "in threemonths he'll be out of your way, never fear."
The gloom spread around, pitchy black, and the rain pattered upon thebush and upon the crouched form of the man who, with his eye to thechink in the wall, and gripping his revolver, witnessed these two calmlyplotting his death, for there could be no mistaking the drift of theirscarcely veiled hints. A wave of fierce wrath surged up in his heart ashe gazed upon his would-be murderers. Why should he not quietly walkround and, flinging open the door, shoot the pair dead? It would be butthe work of a moment. Then came the cold but none the less dangerouscaution which always stood his friend--dangerous to the objects of hisresentment in proportion as it preserved to him his own coolness. Itwould not do. How could he prove to the world at large that he had doneit to save his own life? No. He would keep a close eye upon thisruffianly mulatto, and then the first time they were in action he couldeasily turn the tables on his sneaking assassin by shooting him quietlythrough the head--_in mistake for one of the enemy_--and he laughedsardonically at the thought of hoisting the villain with his own petard.He had no compunction, no nice scruples of honour in such a matter asthis. It was _vae victis_. The other had put the weapon into his hand.And who was this Englishman who seemed bent on pursuing him in such adeadly manner? Who was this secret foe, so eager and anxious to plantthe assassin's steel in his back? And as the firelight flickered intothe corners of the grim old room, lighting up the faces of these twomidnight plotters, Claverton scanned every feature of the recklesslineaments of the arch-schemer again and again, but could detect nothingfamiliar in them. He had never seen the man before.
Suddenly the latter rose.
"Well, now I shall be off," he said. "I leave it to you, Sharkey.Here's something to go on with," and there was a chink as of gold as hepassed something into the mulatto's hand, who clutched it greedily. "Weunderstand each other. Now, the sooner you join your regiment thebetter," he added, with a harsh laugh. "Good-bye. Are you going tostay here to-night?"
"Why, yes, Cap'n; it's warm and dry."
"Ha, ha! Supposing Claverton should want to off-saddle here. Thatwould be a joke--eh?"
"He's better employed, that devil," replied the Cuban mulatto, and hechuckled to himself as the other passed out, frowning. And the listenerheard the sound of footsteps, and then the tread of a horse receding inthe distance. The man was evidently riding away up the kloof.
Left to himself Sharkey got up, fastened the cranky door, and threw somemore wood on the fire. Then he took out his pipe, filled and lightedit, and drawing his blanket around him, lay down, prepared to makehimself thoroughly comfortable. He grunted once or twice as his pipewent out, and then with a muttered imprecation threw it down, and,pulling the blanket over his head, began to snore. A few moments more,and the watcher arose and softly stole away into the bush, for he wasrevolving a merciless and coldblooded plan.
"Sam!"
"Inkos?"
"Tie the horses up and come with me. You remember the scoundrel weenlisted yesterday?"
"Yeh bo 'Nkos."
"Well, he is in that place, and you and I are going to take him.Directly I kick down the door, you will follow on my heels and collarhim. Now come."
They stole back to the house, and Claverton took the precaution of oncemore peeping in. The mulatto lay quite still, rolled in his blanket,evidently asleep. Then he returned to the front of the building.
"Now, Sam--ready!" he whispered.
A sudden rush, and a tremendous kick, and the door went down with anappalling crash, as, staggering with the shock and the impetus,Claverton half fell half rushed upon the sleeper, gripping him by thethroat before he had time to move; while Sam, seizing both his hands,twisted them behind him, and rolled him over on to his stomach.
"That's it, Sam; tie him up," cried Claverton, in a steely voice,restraining with difficulty his longing to throttle the life out of theprostrate villain, who, for his part, did not yield without a struggle--and a violent one. Indeed, it required all their efforts to hold him,for the mulatto was of powerful and athletic build.
"So!" said Claverton, approvingly, as Sam dexterously made fast theprisoner's feet with a _reim_ he had brought for the purpose, havingpreviously pinioned his hands. "Now, Mr Vargas Smith, alias Sharkey,alias the Cuban gentleman--now, may I ask, what the devil are you doinghere?"
The man regarded him with a scowl of hatred. "I was on the way to jointhe levy, Baas, and came in here for shelter from the rain," he replied,sullenly.
"On the way to join the levy, were you? My good friend, this is not theway to King Williamstown. That, I believe, is where you were consignedto--but never mind that. Now, I want to know, who was the _gentleman_who has just left?"
The ruffian's ye
llow hide grew a dirty, livid colour. "I don't know hisname, Baas," he said, falteringly.
"It's surprising how we live and learn," said the other, coolly."Before I count twenty you'll not only have learnt his name, but you'llhave told it to me. Sam, put up that door. And Sam, go to the cornerand keep watch; and let me know if you hear anybody coming. It isn't inthe least likely, but there's nothing like caution. Now, friendSharkey, what is his name? Out with it."
"Don't know, Baas," repeated the other.
"That's unfortunate for you. Now, you see this?" taking a glowingfaggot from the fire and blowing upon it. "With this I am about totickle the soles of your feet until you do know. Come! Out with it,"and he approached his victim.
"Mercy, mercy! I'll tell you, Baas," pleaded the mulatto.
"Well?"
"It's Wallace--Cap'n Wallace, Baas."
"Oh. No lies, mind," said Claverton, with a determined look. "You knowme. I stand no nonsense. Well, now, where did you first fall in withthis Captain Wallace?"
"At Port Elizabeth."
"Who is he?"
"That I don't know, really, Baas," pleaded the fellow, piteously. "He'sgoing to raise a levy and fight the Kafirs, and he wanted me to joinit."
"H'm. I believe the first statement, the last is a lie. No more lies,friend Sharkey, if you please, or we shall quarrel. And now, tell me,how do you purpose earning your hundred pounds?"
The mulatto's face grew livid as death, and great beads of perspirationstood out upon his forehead. He knew that from this man, whose murderhe had just been plotting, he need expect no mercy; and he read his doomin every line of the other's features, as he stared at his captor withthe haggard and hunted expression of a trapped wild creature. Again hisshaking lips reiterated a prayer for mercy.
"You were going to be very merciful to the man whom you were about toput out of this Captain Wallace's way in three months, were you not?Who was the man, by the way?"
"Yourself. He hates you, Baas, I don't know why, I swear I don't. Ithink it's about some money you have that he ought to have--at least, sohe says."
"Quite so. And he set you to watch me?"
"Yes."
"I see."
Then there was dead silence. It was a strange sight that the ghostlyfirelight flickered and danced upon in that lonely hut. The bound andprostrate-ruffian, and the quiet, refined-looking man sitting oppositehim--sitting in judgment on his would-be murderer. Outside, the rainpattered with a monotonous, dismal sound, and the distant cry of ajackal floated upon the heavy night air.
"Well, now, Sharkey," said Claverton at length, "you are the greatestscoundrel that ever breathed, you know. I had almost made up my mind toamuse myself for the rest of the night by drawing figures on yourcarcase with this," and again he held up the glowing faggot; "but I willbe merciful, and won't do that."
A look of relief came into the prisoner's eyes; but his tormentor wenton:
"But, you see, you have confessed to having intended to murder me forthe sake of a hundred pounds. Now, do you know what we do withmurderers? We hang them; but I won't hang you." The look of reliefincreased, and the fellow began to murmur his thanks.
"Wait, wait, not so fast. I won't hang you. I say, because, to beginwith, I haven't got a rope. But a couple of prods with this,"--touchingthe handle of a long, keen sheath-knife--"will answer the purpose agreat deal better. For this is war-time, you know, Sharkey, and thishut is a devilish lonely place, so that when in about a month you arefound here, a yarn will go the round of the papers as to how the body ofa poor devil of a Hottentot--not even a Cuban _gentleman_, mind, theydon't understand that distinction here--was found slain by Kafirs, withno end of assegai holes in him. Or it might be safer for us to dig ahole in the next room, and quietly drop you in--alive, of course--andcover you up. It would, perhaps, be a little more trouble, but safer."
The expression of the miserable man's face, as he stared at histormentor with a frozen, hopeless look of despair, was awful to behold,while he listened to the terrible doom which the other pronounced uponhim. Not a gleam of relenting could he trace in that stern, impassivecountenance.
"Mercy--mercy," he moaned. "I will be your slave--your dog. I willkill the other man if you wish, only spare me," and his dry, bloodlesslips could hardly articulate his hopeless entreaty. "Only spare mylife--it is yours--I deserve to die; but spare me," and the miserablewretch grovelled on the earth.
Claverton contemplated him for a few moments with calm equanimity,unmoved by the extremity of his terror.
"Upon my word, Sharkey, I gave you credit for more gameness. Well, now,listen to me. It is as you say--you deserve to die, and your life ismine. Never mind about the other man, I won't have him hurt foranything. Now for yourself. You have gone through all the bitternessof death in the last few minutes, as I intended you should. That isenough. I will spare your life--richly as you have deserved to loseit--but listen to me. You will go from here as a prisoner, and not bereleased from arrest till we have joined the others. I will make noconditions with you--first of all, because you are absolutely powerlessto harm me, now, or at any future time--the very events of to-nightprove that; secondly, because, if I did, you would not keep them. So Iforgive you completely your plot to murder me, and you shall join thecorps as if nothing had happened. One word of warning, though. I shallhave my eye upon you always, and wherever you may be. And rememberthis, in case we go into action together--_I'm not a bad shot, you know;and there's no fear of my mistaking a Kafir for any one else, or any oneelse for a Kafir_. Bear all this in mind, for if you are up to any moretricks, what you have just gone through is a mere joke compared withwhat's in store for you. You know _me_."
The prisoner looked at Claverton with a wild, superstitious awe. Thisman must be something more than mortal, and he shuddered as he reflectedthat he was indeed powerless to harm him. Then, as he realised that hislife was spared, the look of relief returned to his livid features. Heknew the other only too well, and that every word had been spoken in nomere spirit of empty threat, but in sober earnest. And now he felt likea man who has been reprieved from under the very gallows-tree itself.He had spoken the truth in his revelation in all good faith--indeed, hedared not have done otherwise--and had told all he knew, marvelling thathe had been asked so few questions.
Claverton, meanwhile, was sitting opposite, watching his prisoner with acurious and thoughtful expression. By what stroke of luck had he beenmade to lose his way and brought to this place in time to overhear theplot against his own life? Who on earth could the other man be--thearch mover in the scheme? He had never seen him before; had never evenheard his name; and then what the mulatto had said, about it being aquestion of money. Stay, could it be that some will existed of whichhe, Claverton, knew nothing, and under which the other would benefit inthe event of his death? It seemed strange, certainly; but then hisexperience had taught him that nothing was too strange to be true. Andthen recurred to his mind, with all the force of a prophecy, the wordswhich Lilian had spoken when first she discovered the ruffian wasfollowing them in the square at King Williamstown: "_Have you no secretenemy? No one who would owe you a grudge_?" and he had answered lightlyin the negative; whereas, he was actually being dogged by two secretassassins--one of them no mere common ruffian like the cut-throat lyingthere before him, but a man apparently his equal in birth and station.With whom, however, he promised himself a full and complete reckoning,all in good time.
Then the recollection of Lilian's words naturally recalled the image ofLilian herself. What was she doing then? Thinking of him ever--at thathour most likely praying for him--and he? With difficulty had he justrestrained himself from an act of wild, lawless vengeance--justified,perhaps, but still vengeance--one which in earlier days he would nothave shrunk from; and now, as he thought of her, his whole mood softenedand he felt glad that he had spared the villain opposite, even though bydoing so he might have jeopardised his own life. Not that he gav
e thisside of the question a thought, for his experiences had made him afatalist, and he really believed himself under a special protection forsome purpose or other--be that purpose what it might. Thus musing, hefell into a doze; while the faithful Sam, having stabled the horses inthe adjoining apartment, had barred up the door as well as he could, andsat, huddled in his blanket, smoking his pipe and keeping watch over theprisoner and over his master's safety.
With the first ray of dawn they were astir. The horses being saddled,the prisoner's feet were untied to allow him to walk.
"Yon dam Hottentot nigga?" said Sam, administering a sly kick to thecrestfallen Sharkey, when his master's back was turned. "You cheek mychief, eh? Now, you try to run away, I shoot--shoot you--so. My chief,he good shot, shoot you dead--ha, ha!"
With which salutary warning they set out. Sam, in his heart of hearts,hoping that it would be disregarded, and that the mulatto would reallymake an attempt at escape. But that worthy was wise in his generation,and the Natal native had no opportunity of showing his skill with thenew Snider rifle wherewith a paternal Goverment had supplied him on theoccasion of his joining "Claverton's Levies."
A curious contrast did this grim _cortege_ present to the last occasionof his leaving that place in the early dawn, thought Claverton. Insteadof the bright, laughing girl who was his companion then, he cast his eyeon the sullen prisoner and his guard, and then on his own warlikeequipment; and mingled, indeed, were his reflections as he found himselftraversing the old roads, with all the features of the familiarlandscape stretching around. There was old Isaac Van Rooyen'shomestead, down in the hollow, on the right, looking just the same as ofyore, except that that slow-going old Boer had built a new room on toit, probably for the accommodation of the family of one of his children,who had quartered themselves upon him. In front, in the distance, rosethe frowning face of Spoek Krantz and the heights from among which itstood forth. The mountains, too, on the sky-line, wore their well-knownaspect; and every feature of the surroundings, whether bush or open,seemed to bring back the past. Even Hicks' farm, whither he was nowwending, was the one he himself had started to treat for, and had turnedback, that day when he had heard his fate and been sent forth intobanishment from all that made life for him--four years ago.
"Hallo, hallo!" cried honest Hicks, looking up in astonishment from somecarpentering he was doing behind the house, as the trio rode up. "Well,this is a piece of luck! How are you, Arthur, old boy? And who thedeuce have you got there?"
"A chap who joined my corps and began his service by desertion; Ichanced to pick him up on the way."
Hicks looked mystified for a moment. "Oh--ah--yes, now I remember! Jimtold me you had got the command of some of the greatest blackguardsunder heaven. That bird, by the way, looks as if he would be quite inhis element among them. But I should think you'd manage to lick theminto shape if any one would, eh?"
"Oh, yes. And they're not bad fellows to fight, once you get them awayfrom the canteens. I'll manage them, never fear."
"But come in. Laura will be surprised. Don't bother about the horses,I'll see to them; and your boy will be enough to look after theprisoner, I should think."
"He will. The rascal has been licking his chops over him like abull-terrier contemplating a cat in a tree. There's nothing he'd likebetter than a chance of practising at the fellow running away."
By this time they had entered the house, which was a trifle smallperhaps, but comfortable, after the style of the ordinary frontierdwelling, and Claverton took in at a glance the air of neatness anddomesticity that pervaded it, from the sewing-machine and work-basket onthe table to the rocking-cradle standing in the corner, which latter wasthe sole work of Hicks' skilful hands.
And Laura? She was but little changed in appearance, and that, ifanything, for the better. More matronly-looking and a trifle moredemure perhaps than formerly, and if her greeting to Claverton lackedever so slightly in cordiality, it might have been that she stillcherished a latent spark of resentment against him on Ethel's account.But, after all, there was no altering the past. Whatever was to be--was--and there was no help for it. And being a good-hearted littlewoman she soon cast aside her first veil of reserve, and talked to himas in the old times, for she had always liked him, and besides, he haddone her husband more than one good turn.
"And where is Ethel now, and how is she getting on?" asked Claverton,presently.
"She's down at Cape Town still."
"Does she ever come up to the frontier?"
"Oh, yes. Sometimes. She would have been coming just about now, onlythis new war broke out."
"Who's that? Ethel?" asked Hicks, returning. He had left the room fora moment to give some directions to one of his natives outside. "Oh,yes. She was engaged to some fellow down there and then choked him offall at once, no one quite knew why. Laura vows that--" Here the speakerbecame aware of a battery of warning glances being levelled at him fromhis wife's dark eyes, and suddenly collapsed in a violent fit ofcoughing, on recovery from which he threw open the door, and lookingfrantically up at the heavens declared, with a vehemence wholly unsuitedto the occasion, that the rain would inevitably clear away before twelveo'clock. Claverton, on whom not one fraction of this by-play was lost,although he pretended not to see it, could hardly restrain his mirth.Good old Hicks, he thought, was always a whale at blundering, and he haddone for himself again. Even in trying to extricate it, he had put hisunlucky foot in yet deeper; for, to any one who did not know him, thisviolent prognostication as to the weather, taken in conjunction withwhat had gone before, would have had slightly an inhospitable smack; butClaverton enjoyed the situation only too well. By-and-by, when pursuinghis journey, he would shout with laughter over the recollection; now,however, not a muscle of his countenance moved as he said, in the mostmatter-of-fact way:
"You might remember me to Ethel, when you write. We used to have ratherfun together in the old times."
Laura said something in assent, though she mentally resolved to donothing of the kind. No good would come of waking up old recollections,she reasoned, by mentioning this man who, even if through no fault ofhis own, had, at any rate, she told herself, cast a cloud over herbright, wayward, beautiful sister's life, and the sooner he wasforgotten the better. For that sister's sake she by no means shared herhusband's joy over his reappearance, and she sincerely hoped that thosetwo might not meet again, and wished that he would be quick and marryLilian Strange, or leave this part of the country, or both. Meanwhilehere he was, still on the frontier, and Ethel might be coming up tovisit her at any time.
Just then a chubby toddling--an exact infantile reproduction of hisfather--rushed into the room; and Laura, with a touch of pride that wasvery becoming, exhibited him to her guest, while the urchin opened hisbig blue eyes wide, and stood staring, with his finger in his mouth, atClaverton's long boots and shining spurs.
"Go and say how d'you do to Mr Claverton, Jimmy," said his mother, inthe tone of half command, half entreaty, usual under the circumstances."He's a soldier, you know, going to fight the Kafirs, like Uncle Jim."
"Uncle Jim" being Jim Brathwaite, who was the urchin's godfather.
"I'll be soja, when I big," lisped the prodigy, toddling up toClaverton, and tentatively stroking with one finger the shin of his highboot. "I got gun--shoot de Kaffa--bang!"
"Halloa," cried Hicks, re-entering. "Don't let that kid bother you,Arthur. Kids are a confounded nuisance unless they happen to belong toa fellow, and very often even then."
But Jimmy was not to be detached from his new acquaintance, to whom hehad taken an immense fancy, and just then, fortunately for his peace ofmind, a move was made in favour of breakfast.
They talked of the war and its progress. Hicks declared his intentionof holding on a bit for the present, and joining Jim Brathwaite--who,with his troop, had already left for the front--later, if things gotworse. Laura had been in a terrible fright the last time when he hadgone, he said; but now, since she saw
that none of them had been hurt,she didn't care--in fact, concluded Hicks, he rather believed she wantedto get rid of him, so he was determined to stay, just to spite her.Listening to the playful recrimination that followed, Claverton foundhimself thinking what a good thing it was to see two people happy likethis, for there could be no doubt but that happy they were--thoroughlyso--in their quiet and hitherto peaceful (for the tide of war had notyet rolled in so far as this) frontier home; though such may appearincredible to those who find their enjoyment of life in the whirl andfeverishness of fashionable civilisation. And thinking it, he rejoicedgreatly on his old chum's account.
And the said "old chum" was considerably crestfallen at the announcementthat he must take the road again. "Why, hang it all," he grumbled;"you've hardly had time to look at us."
"My dear fellow--duty--inexorable duty calls. But I shall assuredlyknock you up again, soon."
"Why, here's baby!" exclaimed Laura, as an approaching squall resoundedthrough the passage. "You will just be able to have a peep at herbefore you go," and regardless of her lord's impatient protest that"Claverton didn't want to be bothered with a lot of kids," she took alimp bundle of clothes from the arms of its bearer and uncovered a weered and--shall it be confessed?--rather wet physiognomy for her guest'sinspection.
"H'm, I'm no judge of infants, Laura," said Claverton, good-humouredly,"but I should say this one ought to fetch first prize at the next show.But now I must be off--good-bye."
"Must you go? I'm so sorry," said Laura. "I should like to get Lilianup here to stay for a bit, only `some one' would be sure to forbid it asunsafe," she added, archly.
"Well, good-bye, old fellow," said Hicks. "My horses are out in the_veldt_, and will take hours to get in, or I'd go part of the way withyou. Mind you look us up again as soon as ever you can." He was goingto add something about hoping "to see you both here before long"; butwith his recent slip fresh in his mind, he refrained, fearing lest insome unaccountable manner he should put his foot in it again."Good-bye--success to you. Mind you shoot lots of niggers and come backall jolly," and with a hearty hand-shake the two men parted.
Claverton rode on, reaching Fort Beaufort, where he tarried a day torecruit his men, or rather to collect them, for they had already beenrecruited by his lieutenant, a young Englishman named Lumley; and it washigh time he appeared on the scene, for the rascals had taken theopportunity of getting on the spree, indulging in much inebriatejollification preparatory to starting for the seat of war. They wouldbe all right, though, once away from the canteens and under properdiscipline--and under proper discipline he intended they should be. Sopromptly mustering them he marched them off without any farther delay,not even waiting a day in Alice, the divisional town of Victoria East,where a fresh batch was picked up. At the latter place, however, adespatch awaited him, ordering him, instead of going to KingWilliamstown, to proceed straight through to join the main column on theborders of Sandili's location.
All along the road he met with fresh rumours and alarms. The rebellionwas spreading; the whole of British Kaffraria and the Transkei wasover-ran; nearly all the settlers' houses in the more exposed districtswere burnt down; the Police express-riders carried their lives in theirhands, as they darted across the hostile country, several of them havingbeen cut off already. Added to which these districts were in a direstate of alarm, by reason of impending troubles nearer home, for theGaika clans in the Waterkloof and Blinkwater fastnesses, under thechiefs Tini Macomo and Oba, were in a state of restlessness, andmeanwhile signal fires burnt nightly on the higher peaks of the Amatola.
It was, indeed, a motley crew, was this "levy" of which the twoEnglishmen were in command, numbering between sixty and seventy men.Yellow-skinned Hottentots; dark Korannas; tall, light-coloured Bastards;every shade and kindred of the race which though inferior to them inmany respects, yet looked upon themselves as the natural foes of theKafirs, and with far more sympathies of rule, of civilisation, or rathersemi-civilisation, and even of blood, with the white man, for few indeedbut had some drops of white blood in them. Even two or three specimensof the ape-like Bushmen found part in the motley gathering--wiry, activelittle rascals, with skulls hard as iron and the agility of cats--andone and all by virtue of their white strain, and the weapons wherewiththey had been supplied; and confidence in their leaders, felt themselvesimmeasurably superior in prowess to the naked tribesmen against whomthey were burning to be led. Not a few of the older men--wrinkled,shrivelled-looking, sinewy creatures, but game to the backbone--had beenrebels in the war of '50, when the old Cape Mounted Rifles, thencomposed of such fellows as these, had gone over in a body to the enemy,and, bearing in mind the salutary lesson they had been taught, both bytheir ill-chosen friends and their deserted employers, were now only tooready to retrieve the past, and to avenge themselves upon thetreacherous savages who had then misled them. They were mostly plucky;fair shots and reliable at a pinch; but, as yet, in a state ofindifferent discipline; and it required all their leader's promptitudeand firmness to lick them into anything like decent shape. His firstaddress to them was short and to the point.
"Now, men," he said, in the ordinary Boer Dutch, which was their mothertongue. "We are going out to fight--to fight in real earnest, and notto play. I have seen fellows I would far less sooner command than Iwould you, for I know you can hold your own against any number of theserascally Gaikas. Many of you are good shots, I know, and we'll soonhave plenty of opportunity of peppering Jack Kafir handsomely, I promiseyou. Remember, we are going to fight--and to fight we must always be ina state of readiness and of order, because we are in the enemy's countryand never know when we may have him down upon us. Now, mark my words.Any man who gets drunk, or is found asleep at his post, shall have sixdozen well laid on with a couple of new _reims_, as sure as my name'sClaverton, and the second time he'll be shot. Mind, I'll stand nohanky-panky. When we get home again you can get on the spree as much asyou like; in camp, steadiness is the order of the day. Your rationsyou'll get just as I get mine, neither better nor worse. I shall ask noman to go where I won't lead him, and now we'll just go and thrash JackKafir into a cocked hat--yourselves and Mr Lumley and I. So weunderstand each other. I am commanding men, not fools or children--isn't it so?"
"Ja, kaptyn--ja!" they cried, cheering him vociferously. "We shall showyou we are all men--good men and true."
"That's right. Now I am going to let you elect your own sergeants andcorporals, and, having elected them, by Jove, you'll have to obey them.I should recommend, for choice, Gert Spielman, Cobus Windvogel, DirkHesler," and he ran through a list of about a dozen of the mosttrustworthy veterans, knowing full well that those who were electedwould be devoted to him, and those who were not, scarcely less so forhis having recommended them. And thus having got his corps into workingorder, and, in fact, it became more manageable every day, Claverton andhis lieutenant journeyed with light hearts towards the seat of war.
"These fellows will turn out a very creditable lot, or I'm muchmistaken," remarked Lumley, as they were advancing through one of thedefiles of the Amatola. "They are cool and reliable at a pinch, and notsusceptible to panic like the Fingoes. I'd rather have fifty of themthan five hundred Fingoes."
"I quite believe it," assented Claverton. "Some of them are toughcustomers, and once beyond the reach of grog they're all right."
"Yes. Look at that old Gert Spielman, for instance," pointing to ashrivelled, little old Hottentot, with a skin like parchment. "He's adead shot. The infernal old scoundrel was a rebel last war, and onlyescaped hanging by the skin of his teeth. I suspect he's drawn a beadwith effect many a time on poor Tommy Atkins in those days. Well, now--if occasion offers--you'll see he'll turn out to be one of our bestmen."
"No doubt. But I say; this is a queer place, and the sooner we getthrough it the better."
They were threading a long, narrow defile. Overhead the forest-coveredslopes rose to the sky, and down to the path stretched the jungly bush--dense, t
angled, and apparently impenetrable. Great yellow-wood treeshere and there reared their grey, massive limbs, from which the lichensdangled, above the lower scrub, and monkeys chattered, and birds flittedscreaming from the road as the troop moved forward. Some fifteen ortwenty of the men had horses of their own, and these, Claverton, like aprudent commander, had thrown forward as scouts, if not to clear the wayat any rate to give warning of any assemblage of the foe threatening tooppose their progress--which they could easily do, being as quick of eyeand as agile of limb as the Kafirs themselves. But no sign ofobstruction was encountered, and soon, emerging from the gorge, theyfound themselves in more open country, bushy still, but not densely so--indeed, such that in the event of attack the advantage would not bewholly on the enemy's side.