VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER NINETEEN.
THE DARKEST HOUR.
When Lilian saw Payne return to the house alone, unaccompanied by herlover, it seemed that her cup of bitterness was full to the brim.
He had taken her at her word, then, even as she had besought him to do,and had left her, wearied of her weakness and vacillation; had left herin bitter anger that she should have made a plaything of his love,taking it up and casting it from her again as the humour seized her.Yes; it must be so, she told herself; and yet, if he only knew! But henever would know. Her martyrdom was complete. Not even would she havethe consolation of knowing that if they parted in sorrow, at any ratethey parted in love, as was the case that former time. No; this timeanger and contempt for a weak creature who did not know her own mindwould soon take the place of his former love--and then? Ah, what did itmatter? She had sacrificed herself, and the sacrifice was complete;what mattered a mere triviality of detail? He was gone, and she wouldsee his face no more, and she--she had saved him and ought to be onlytoo glad that the opportunity of doing so had been allowed her--atleast, so she told herself.
So she told herself, but ah! she could not feel glad. Her plan hadsucceeded, as she had been hoping, yet not daring to pray, that itwould; but now that it had, she discovered that side by side with herheroic resolution had lurked a subtle hope that even yet she might lookupon him again. That hope was now fulfilled, and lo! all was darkerthan it had been hitherto--so dark that it could never be light again.
Could it not? Even then, breaking in upon the outer gloom of herterrible despair, came her lover's last message--"_A very few days willsee me back here again. Everything will come right then_"--bringing agleam of hope to her crushed heart. He would come back--at any rate hewould come back--and then, those confident words: "_Everything will comeright then_." For the first time a strong doubt came over her as to thetruth of Truscott's allegations. It might be that he was lying,according to his wont--lying in order to gain some private end, torevenge himself upon her--for she now no longer believed that he reallyloved her. Yet he had spoken so confidently, with such an exhaustivereliance in his facts. Still there might be some mystery about it,which her lover was able to solve. Ah! why had she not asked him whenhe was here just now? Why had she not begged him to clear up thishorrid doubt; to tell her openly about his past life? She had beenunnerved: had lost her head for the time being. Still it is probablethat she would have asked him, but for the inopportune return of thePaynes. Well, it was too late now; she must wait patiently for hisreturn, and then--if only the opportunity was allowed her--a lifetime oftenderness and devotion could hardly atone for this dreadful doubt.
"Why, Lilian," exclaimed her hostess, affectionately, "you are lookingquite your old self again. Cheer up, darling. All will come right, I'msure of that; and so are you, I can see it in your eyes."
And, indeed, the revulsion of hope, setting in upon that black tide ofdespair, had brought a glow into Lilian's cheek and a light into hereyes such as had not been seen there for many a day. Yet it would notdo to be too elated yet.
"God grant it may," she replied, with an attempt at a smile, and therewas a good deal of hugging and kissing between the two women, and a fewtears; and then Lilian went down to delight Rose's heart by telling hershe would go for a walk with her, after all; that part of theafternoon's programme having fallen through in subservience to the moreimportant events which had supervened, to the little girl's intensedisappointment.
And the walk did her good. Everything would come right, she kepttelling herself, and, as they strolled homeward when the afterglow inthe west was purpling into twilight gloom and the peaks of theWinterberg range stood out--cold, distant, and steely--Lilian's heartwas full of a prayerful hope that their future might, after all, bebright and cloudless as yon clear sky, when doubts and torturing fearshad all been swept away; and though her little companion found hersomewhat grave and disinclined to talk, yet the calm, sweet light ofreturning peace in her eyes, which the child stole many a wondering lookat, more than made up for her silence.
If the Paynes were somewhat apprehensive as to the future--or rather asto the events of the next few days--they kept it to themselves, and thatevening was quite a cheerful one. Hope had taken root and thriven inLilian's heart, and, as she kept on repeating to herself her lover'smessage, she seemed to hear the confident ring of his own words:"_Everything will come right then_," and wae comforted; at least,comparatively so. But whatever happened she would ask him to tell herall his past life, and somehow she did not look forward to therevelation with dread.
Payne, however, was by no means easy in his mind about the somewhatdesperate plan which his friend had unfolded to him. To honest George'sstraightforward reasoning it thoroughly recommended itself. The bestway to settle an affair of this kind was by a downright"rough-and-tumble," as he put it, but then there was the law, anuncommonly ticklish customer to deal with, once it took it into its headto vindicate its outraged dignity. As regarded that, however, thebusiness might be managed away on the quiet somewhere, at the seat ofhostilities, where law was very much in abeyance just then; though atany other time, as he had told his friend, it would be impossible. Butfor all that, he heartily wished him safe through the business.Claverton was a splendid pistol-shot, of that he had, on more than oneoccasion, had ocular evidence, and if he winged his man, or even killedhim, it was all in the fortune of war; for Payne had seen rough timeshimself at the Gold Fields and even on the Kaffrarian border, and didnot hold human life as so momentous a thing as did, for instance, theclergyman of the parish wherein he at present resided. To the wife ofhis bosom, however, he did not impart any of these reflections; on thecontrary, he made rather light of the affair.
"A row?" he said, in answer to her misgivings. "Oh, yes, there's sureto be a row--the very devil of a row, in fact; but then Claverton'sthoroughly well able to take care of himself."
"But they will be shooting each other," she said, with a troubled shakeof the head.
He turned quickly. "Eh? What? Not they! They'll only get to punchingeach other's heads--that's all, take my word for it." And honest Georgelaughed light-heartedly at his wife's fears, though he knew that therewas ample justification for them.
The following day brought even further comfort to poor Lilian, fortowards evening Sam arrived. With a start and a flush she saw thenative rein up at the gate, and then she grew deathly pale. He wasriding his master's horse; she recognised the animal at a glance. Oh,what had happened? But then she noticed that Sam looked in no wiseperturbed, as would have been the case were he the bearer of illtidings. She noticed, further, that he was carefully extractingsomething from his pocket as he came up the garden path--something doneup in paper. She flew to the door with a bright flush upon the sweet,sad face.
"Good evenin', Missie Lilian. Master said I was give you dis,"exclaimed Sam, placing the note in her hand. It was a hastily-pencilledscrap--only a few words, but words expressing such a wealth of undyinglove, ever and in spite of anything which had occurred or which mightoccur, that she retired into the room, and, sinking into a chair,pressed the bit of crumpled paper to her lips, and her tears fell likerain upon it.
"Oh, Arthur, my own darling love! you do not think the worse of me! Ah,I can bear anything now?" she murmured.
Could she? Nevertheless, it was well that the merciful veil of distancewas drawn between her eyes and the tragedy which at that very moment wasbeing enacted on the brow of a certain cliff, that calm, fair, cloudlessevening.
Meanwhile, Sam was busy putting up the horse. It had not needed thehaggard features and harsh, strained tones to bring home to his quickperception the certainty that something had gone decidedly wrong withhis beloved master, hence the more than ordinary display of loyalty hehad exhibited when they parted; and now, with the ready tact of hisrace, he turned away directly he had delivered the note to Lilian,awaiting her own time to call him and question him about its writer.So, with his
jacket off, and armed with a curry-comb and brush, Sam wasmaking great play upon the matted and soiled coat of the tired horsewhen a sweet voice from the back-door called his name.
"Coming, Missie Lilian--coming," cried the faithful fellow, as he flungdown his stable implements and hurried across the intervening bit ofgarden, shuffling on his jacket as he went.
"Sam, you must be very hot and tired after your journey. Drink this,and then I want to talk to you."
"This" being a large tumbler of cool, sparkling lemonade, which she heldin her hand. Sam took it with a grateful, pleasing ejaculation ofthanks. A dusky savage, born in a remote kraal beneath the toweringcones of the Kwahlamba range, he appreciated her thoughtful kindness farmore than many a white "Christian" would have done--the action more thanthe result.
"Dat good," he said, after a long pull at the refreshing liquid, "butnot so good as see Missie Lilian again."
She smiled at the genuine though inaccurately-worded compliment, andbegan questioning him, a little shyly at first, but soon so fast thatshe found herself asking the same questions over again, and hardlygiving time for answers. Sam, who, like all natives, dearly loved tohear himself talk, once on the congenial topic of his master and thewar, lectured away _ad libitum_.
"Missie Lilian--master he say, I stop here till he come back. I doeveryting you tell me. If you want tell master anyting, you send Sam,straight--so!" and, extending his arm, he cracked his fingers in thedirection of Kafirland with an expressive gesture. "Sam he go in notime. Dat what Inkos say."
"And, Sam--didn't your master tell you how long he would be away?"
"No, Missie Lilian--yes, he did. He say, be away not long--come backvery soon--in few days. Yes, he come back in very few days--dat whatInkos say, de last ting."
"A very few days!" Just what he had told Mrs Payne. Things lookedpromising.
"Was he looking--looking well, Sam? He has to travel alone, too," sheadded, half to herself.
"No, Missie Lilian, he not ride 'lone. One Dutchman going back tolaager. Inkos and dat Dutchman ride together. Inkos he buy horse fromdat Dutchman--big young horse--'cos Fleck go lame. Dey see Amaxosanigger, dey shoot--shoot. Amaxosa not hurt. Inkos--Amaxosa nigga nogood. Ha?"
"Why, Sam; you don't mean they met any Kafirs?" exclaimed Lilian inalarm.
"No. Dey not see any nigga, Missie Lilian. Sam mean _if_ dey seeAmaxosa dey shoot--shoot 'em dead. Bang!"
He did not tell her of the warning as to the dangers of the road, whichthe two troopers had given his master the last thing before he started.It would only make her uneasy, and, besides, Sam had the most rootedfaith in his chief's invulnerability.
Then Sam, being once under weigh, launched out into much reminiscence,all tending towards one point, the glorification of his master and hismaster's exploits; for which his said master would have been sorelytempted to kick him, could he have overheard; but which, to his presentlistener, was of all topics the most welcome.
"Hallo, Sam, you rascal! Where have you dropped from?"
"Evenin', Baas Payne!" said Sam, jumping to his feet, for he had beensquatting, tailor-fashion, while Lilian had been talking to him. "Sam,he come from Inkos. Inkos he say, Sam stay here till he come. Sam doall he told. Dat what Inkos say."
"You've got fat, Sam, since we saw you last. Campaigning seems to agreewith you," said Payne.
The boy grinned, and, seeing that they had done with him, he returned tohis work.
"I rather think I shall go to the front for a spell myself whenClaverton comes back," remarked Payne, as they went in.
"Oh, do you?" put in his wife, of whose presence he was unaware. "Andsince when have you come to that conclusion, Mr George?"
He started. "Hallo! I didn't know you there. But, seriously, itwouldn't do a fellow any harm. Needn't stay away long, you know. Shoota few niggers and come back again."
"Yes, pa," cried Harry, delightedly. "Do go and shoot the Kafirs, andyou'll be able to tell us such lots of stunning stories."
"Oh, ah! Anything else in a small way, Master Harry?" said his father,ironically.
The urchin laughed.
"I want an assegai," he replied. "A real Kafir assegai; like the oneJohnny Timms has got. It's a beauty. He throws it at the fowls in thegarden."
"And you want to do likewise, eh? Only as there are no fowls topractise at here, you'd be hurling it at old Cooke's next door. No,sonny; little boys mustn't play with edged tools, as the copy-bookssay."
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It is the third day after Claverton's departure--a bright, beautifulmorning, with the already tangible promise of great heat. Slowly Lilianstrolls along the street, hardly heeding the throng of busy life on allsides; the rolling waggons, with their long, jaded spans, moving to thecrack of the driver's whip, accompanied by a shrill, harsh yell; thesun-tanned horsemen ambling about; or the three or four pedestrians,who, booted and spurred, are striding among the crowd in all the gloryof their spiked helmets, where an open-air sale is taking place,flattering themselves they present an intensely martial aspect, andputting on "side" accordingly. Here and there a storekeeper standsbefore his shop-door exchanging gossip with the passers-by; and blackfellows of every nationality, clothed in ragged trousers and greasyshirts, with, it may be, a battered hat stuck on top of their dustywool, stand in knots chattering in their deep bass, or trundle greatpackages in and out of the stores. All this Lilian hardly sees as shestrolls along, a world of tender thought in the sweet eyes; and thebeautiful figure in the cool summer dress forms a very bright andpleasing contrast in that busy workaday throng.
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She has been to the library and changed her books, has done one or twolittle commissions, and now it is getting very hot, as she pauses for amoment to rest and look in at a shop-window. Three days have gone,three days out of the time she has to wait. Ah! how she longs for thattime to come to an end! And the hum of traffic increases in the busystreet, and from the cathedral spire the hour of ten chimes out.Suddenly the hand which has been gently twirling the sunshade on hershoulder, closes in rigid grasp round the knob; and lo! the beautiful,pensive face is white and bloodless--pale as the snowy ostrich featheradorning her hat--a peerless "prime white," which her lover hadransacked the country to procure in order to devote it to its presentpurpose. For as she stands there Lilian catches that lover's name, and,before she has overheard many words of the conversation of a knot of menchattering behind her, she feels as if she must fall to the ground.
"How do they know he's killed?" one of them was saying, evidently inresponse to a preceding query. "They know it as well as they can knowit short of finding the body, and the niggers don't leave much of that--butchering brutes. But, look here. If Claverton started on the line ofcountry Jos Sanders said he did, and didn't turn up at the main campyesterday by twelve o'clock at latest, he's a dead man. The whole ofthose locations that side o' the mountains have risen, and a fleacouldn't have got through without their spottin' him."
"He may have gone round t'other way, though."
"Not likely. Jos said he was in a mighty cast-iron hurry, and laughedin his face when he just cautioned him to look out. There was aDutchman with him, too."
"In a hurry? Claverton in a hurry? That'd be a sight worth seeing,"struck in another. "Why, if all the niggers in Kafirland were on hisspoor, he'd stop to fill his pipe before he'd move."
"Ah, he's a mighty cool hand," rejoined the first speaker, admiringly."We want a few more like him. You should jes' have seen him that timewhen we were out under old Hughes. There was only eighteen of us alltold, and the niggers were on us by hundreds. If it hadn't been forBrathwaite's fellers we should all have been cut up. We fought thewhole afternoon; and Claverton, he seemed to care no more about theniggers than if there hadn't been one of 'em there."
"Yes, and the way he brought out poor Jack
Armitage that time! It was adoosid plucky thing."
"I say, what's this about Claverton being killed?" exclaimed anothervoice, whose owner had evidently just joined the group. "I see thetelegram says he may have been taken prisoner."
The first speaker shook his head ominously.
"Kafirs don't take prisoners," he said. "If they do, so much the worsefor the prisoners. No, sir. Claverton would fight like the devil, buthe'd never let those brutes take him alive, you may safely bet yourbottom dollar on that. Poor chap! Hot, isn't it? Let's go andliquor."
They moved off, and Lilian stood there feeling as if the whole world hadsuddenly given way beneath her feet. Then she remembered that thenewspaper office was but a few yards off. With swaying and uneven stepsshe made her way there. A boy was standing at the counter, rapidlyfolding copy after copy of the morning's edition.
"I want a paper, please. One with the very latest telegrams."
Lilian was surprised at her own calmness; but her ashy face andquivering lips might have told their own tale.
"Yes, mum," said the boy, handing her one of those lying on the counter,and with it a small, printed slip. "Latest from the front--an officerkilled."
The words beat like a sledge-hammer in her brain, but she managed tostagger out of the shop. The whole street--vehicles, passengers, trees,everything--seemed to go round before her as she strained her eyes uponthe printed words of that fatal slip.
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An Officer Missing.
"Field-Captain Claverton, of Brathwaite's Horse, left Breakfast Vley twodays ago for the main camp, and has not since been heard of. He wasaccompanied by a Dutchman named Oppermann. There is every reason tofear that they have been out off and killed, as the bushy defilesthrough which lay their road, are swarming with rebel Gaikas."
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Later.
"A rumour is afloat in camp that the missing officer is alive, but aprisoner; and that a missionary, supposed to be Rev Swaysland, ofMount Ararat Station, is also in the hands of the rebels. This seemsprobable, as the body of the Dutchman has been found, headless andterribly mutilated, near the brow of a high krantz; but there was nosign of the others. The rumour originated with a native, who has sincedisappeared. He says that the missing men will be taken to Sandili."
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Hardly had Lilian left the shop when a young man, with a pen stuckbehind his ear, emerged from an inner office. With three strides hegained the front door, and stood staring after her for a moment down thestreet. Then he turned back.
"Jones, what did that lady want?" he asked, in a tone of concern.
"S'mornin's paper, and latest telegram," replied the boy, laconically,and somewhat defiantly, as he went on folding his papers.
"And you gave it her?"
"Yes," still more defiantly. "She asked for it."
"You egregious jackass?"
"What for?" said the boy, indignantly. "If a party asks for the paper,ain't I to sell it?" He evidently thought his superior was drunk.
"Look at that, Jones," said the latter, tapping the telegraphic slipimpressively with his pen. "What's that about--eh?"
"I see it. It's about an officer killed at the front. Why, that's justthe very thing the lady wanted to see," replied the boy, brightening up.
"Yes. Quite so, you infernal young fool. She's his sweetheart."
"O Lord!" And the boy, dropping the paper he was folding, stood gazingat his superior the very picture of open-mouthed horror.
"Yes, it is `Lord,'" said the latter, with a gloomy shake of the head."Well, the mischief's done now, anyway;" and he retired into his denwith a feeling of intense and real pity for the beautiful, sad-lookinggirl who had so often called at the office for telegrams from the seatof war. The boy was a new hand, and had not known who she was.
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How Lilian got home was a mystery. She just remembered staggering in atthe doorway, and then nothing more until she awoke to find herself uponher bed with Annie Payne bathing her forehead. No need had there beento ask what the matter was--the printed slip which she held clutched inher hand spoke for itself.
A shudder of returning consciousness, an inquiring look around, and thenthe dread remembrance burst upon her.
"Oh, Arthur!" she wailed forth, in a despairing, bitter moan, "you aredead, love, and I--why do I still live?" and the tears rushed forth asher frame shook beneath its weight of sobbing woe.
"Hush, dear!" whispered Annie. "It does not say that, you know; it sayshe is a prisoner, and he may have escaped by now, or been rescued.While there is life there is hope."
Something in the idea seemed suddenly to strike her. Starting up, shepressed her hand against her brows.
"So there is! Hope, hope! He is not dead. We must rescue him;" andwith a new-born determination, Lilian rose and walked towards the door.Her hostess stared at her with a vague misgiving. Had this shock turnedher brain?
"Mr Payne," said Lilian, quite calmly, as she entered the sitting-room,"what can we do?"
Payne, who was busy buckling on a pair of stout riding gaiters, lookedup, no less astonished than his wife had been. A cartridge-belt, wellstocked, lay on a chair, and just then Sam entered with a gun which hehad been wiping out.
"Do? Well, I'm going to start off at once for Brathwaite's camp and seewhat can be done. But cheer up, Miss Lilian. We may bring our friendout of his troubles all right enough. While there's life there's hope,you know."
Just what his wife had said, and the twofold reiteration struck Lilianvaguely as a good omen.
"Mr Payne," she said, suddenly, "I want to go with you."
Payne stared, as well he might. "Go with me? Where? To Brathwaite'scamp?"
"No; as far as the front. After that to the chief, Sandili."
If she had said "To his Satanic majesty," Payne could not have been morethunderstruck. He began to think, as his wife had thought, that theshock had turned her brain.
"To the chief, Sandili!" he echoed. "Why, you would never get there;and if you did, what on earth would be the use of it?"
"I want to beg him to spare Arthur's life. I have heard that theseKafirs respect women, even in time of war, and the chief might listen tome. I am not afraid of him. He was very friendly, and spoke quitekindly to us that day we saw him up in Kaffraria, and he will rememberme. And I might succeed where nothing or nobody else would--if it isnot too late," she concluded, choking down a rising sob. She must keepfirm now, and crush all mere womanly weakness, for she would need allher strength.
Payne stared at her, speechless with astonishment and admiration. Thenotion of this delicate, beautiful creature calmly stating her wish togo alone into the midst of these merciless savages; to beard the Gaikachief, at bay in his stronghold, far in the gloomy recesses of theAmatola forest; reached a height of sublimity bordering closely upon theridiculous. But she wae thoroughly in earnest--he could see that--andmeant every word of it.
"Why, Lilian, it is not to be thought of," he replied, seriously; "thething is simply impossible to carry out, even if it were. Why, youwould never reach the chief, to begin with; you would--hang it all--youwould come to grief long before."
"Nothing is impossible. Are you going to sacrifice his life because youwill not use a means of saving it?" she asked.
"Now, do be reasonable," replied Payne. "Listen. We have a better planthan that. Sam is going straight to the front; with a daub of red clayand a blanket he will pass perfectly for a Gaika. He will find outwhere Arthur is, and, depend upon it Sam will get him out if any onecan; and you may be perfectly sure that I shall leave no stoneunturned."
"Ah, yes. He will. That is a good idea."
"Yes," went on Payne, who, meanwhile, was busy getti
ng his thingstogether. "And, another thing, Arthur understands the Kafirs thoroughlyand can talk to them fluently. He isn't the fellow to lose his head inany kind of fix, and he may manage to talk them over, or bribe them tolet him go. So just keep your spirits up and don't begin thinking theworst. Now, good-bye, we'll do the best we can. Good-bye, Annie!" andwith a grasp of the hand to Lilian, and a hurried embrace to his wife,Payne mounted his horse, which was being held for him at the gate, androde off.
"Missie Lilian!" exclaimed Sam, "I go look for Inkos, now--straight--atonce. Amaxosa not hurt him; I find him and bring him back. If Inkosalive, Sam bring him back or die by him. Dat what Sam do."
"Wait. You are not armed. Go, quick, and buy a revolver before youstart," and with trembling hands Lilian began searching hurriedly forher purse.
"He won't be able to get it without a permit from the magistrate," saidAnnie Payne, "and if he could, it would be of no use to him. No, leavehim alone for doing the best thing."
"I not want revolva, Missie Lilian, I not want anyting. Better jes as Iam. Now I go quick. I bring back Inkos, or never come back. I bringhim back, or I die by him," and, without another word, away started thefaithful fellow; and so serious did he consider the position that heforgot his usual formula, "Amaxosa nigga no good."
Throughout that afternoon whatever hopes Lilian had allowed herself tocherish sank slowly and by degrees till they had almost totallydisappeared. Suspense, terrible at any time, but doubly so duringforced inactivity, weighed down her soul till it seemed that it mustcrush her to the very dust, and she could do nothing. Payne--even Sam--had the satisfaction of joining in search of her missing lover, whileshe, a weak, helpless woman, could only sit at home and wait, and weep,and pray. Ah, why did she not insist upon her plan of going straight tothe Gaika chief to beg for her lover's life? What to her were theterrors of so desperate an undertaking; the gloomy forest; theloneliness; the crowd of grim barbarians, their weapons, it might be,red with recently shed blood? And she was by nature timid, as we havealready seen; yet her great overwhelming love had made this frail,delicate creature brave with a fearlessness taking no account of lesserhorrors, all of which were swallowed up in this one dread issue. But itwas too late now. Payne had gone, and the faithful native with him; andthe two women were left alone, to wait, and weep, and pray.
Then as the afternoon wore on, and the messenger whom Annie Payne hadstationed at the telegraph office to hasten up to them with every detailof news that might arrive, returned with the intelligence that a greatstorm was gathering in Kaffraria, and the electricity had interferedwith the working of the wires, Lilian could bear no more. AH thedireful stories which she had heard of the cruelties practised by thesavages towards their helpless prisoners crowded upon her mind. He--herheart's love! He--a captive in their ruthless hands! And it was by_her_ act that this had come about. _Her_ lips had doomed him. She hadsent him to his death.