"What way?"
"To shoot him before he shot me," he answered in a whisper, "for your sake, dear--but I could not bring myself to do it."
"No," she said with a shudder, "not that--not that. Better that we should die than that his blood should be upon our hands. Now I will get up and try to show no fear. I am sure that is best, and perhaps we shall be able to escape somehow. Meanwhile, let us humour him, and pretend to go on looking for this horrible treasure."
So Benita rose to discover that, save for her stiffness, she was but little the worse, and finding all things placed in readiness, set to work with her father"s help to cook the evening meal as usual. Of Meyer, who doubtless had placed things in readiness, she saw nothing.
Before nightfall he came, however, as she knew he would. Indeed, although she heard no step and her back was towards him, she felt his presence; the sense of it fell upon her like a cold shadow. Turning round she beheld the man. He was standing close by, but above her, upon a big granite boulder, in climbing which his soft veld schoons, or hide shoes, had made no noise, for Meyer could move like a cat. The last rays from the sinking sun struck him full, outlining his agile, nervous shape against the sky, and in their intense red light, which flamed upon him, he appeared terrible. He looked like a panther about to spring; his eyes shone like a panther"s, and Benita knew that she was the prey whom he desired. Still, remembering her resolution, she determined to show no fear, and addressed him:
"Good-evening, Mr. Meyer. Oh! I am so stiff that I cannot lift my neck to look at you," and she laughed.
He bounded softly from the rock, like a panther again, and stood in front of her.
"You should thank the G.o.d you believe in," he said, "that by now you are not stiff indeed--all that the jackals have left of you."
"I do, Mr. Meyer, and I thank you, too; it was brave of you to come out to save us. Father," she called, "come and tell Mr. Meyer how grateful we are to him."
Mr. Clifford hobbled out from his hut under the tree, saying:
"I have told him already, dear."
"Yes," answered Jacob, "you have told me; why repeat yourself? I see that supper is ready. Let us eat, for you must be hungry; afterwards I have something to tell you."
So they ate, with no great appet.i.te, any of them--indeed Meyer touched but little food, though he drank a good deal, first of strong black coffee and afterwards of squareface and water. But on Benita he pressed the choicest morsels that he could find, eyeing her all the while, and saying that she must take plenty of nutriment or her beauty would suffer and her strength wane. Benita bethought her of the fairy tales of her childhood, in which the ogre fed up the princess whom he purposed to devour.
"You should think of your own strength, Mr. Meyer," she said; "you cannot live on coffee and squareface."
"It is all I need to-night. I am astonishingly well since you came back.
I can never remember feeling so well, or so strong. I can do the work of three men, and not be tired; all this afternoon, for instance, I have been carrying provisions and other things up that steep wall, for we must prepare for a long siege together; yet I should never know that I had lifted a single basket. But while you were away--ah! then I felt tired."
Benita changed the subject, asking him if he had made any discoveries.
"Not yet, but now that you are back the discoveries will soon come. Do not be afraid; I have my plan which cannot fail. Also, it was lonely working in that cave without you, so I only looked about a little outside till it was time to go to meet you, and shoot some of those Matabele. Do you know?--I killed seven of them myself. When I was shooting for your sake I could not miss," and he smiled at her.
Benita shrank from him visibly, and Mr. Clifford said in an angry voice:
"Don"t talk of those horrors before my daughter. It is bad enough to have to do such things, without speaking about them afterwards."
"You are right," he replied reflectively; "and I apologise, though personally I never enjoyed anything so much as shooting those Matabele.
Well, they are gone, and there are plenty more outside. Listen! They are singing their evening hymn," and with his long finger he beat time to the volleying notes of the dreadful Matabele war-chant, which floated up from the plain below. "It sounds quite religious, doesn"t it? only the words--no, I will not translate them. In our circ.u.mstances they are too personal.
"Now I have something to say to you. It was unkind of you to run away and leave me like that, not honourable either. Indeed," he added with a sudden outbreak of the panther ferocity, "had you alone been concerned, Clifford, I tell you frankly that when we met again, I should have shot you. Traitors deserve to be shot, don"t they?"
"Please stop talking to my father like that," broke in Benita in a stern voice, for her anger had overcome her fear. "Also it is I whom you should blame."
"It is a pleasure to obey you," he answered bowing; "I will never mention the subject any more. Nor do I blame you--who could?--not Jacob Meyer. I quite understand that you found it very dull up here, and ladies must be allowed their fancies. Also you have come back; so why talk of the matter? But listen: on one point I have made up my mind; for your own sake you shall not go away any more until we leave this together. When I had finished carrying up the food I made sure of that.
If you go to look to-morrow morning you will find that no one can come up that wall--and, what is more, no one can go down it. Moreover, that I may be quite certain, in future I shall sleep near the stair myself."
Benita and her father stared at each other.
"The Molimo has a right to come," she said; "it is his sanctuary."
"Then he must celebrate his worship down below for a little while. The old fool pretends to know everything, but he never guessed what I was going to do. Besides, we don"t want him breaking in upon our privacy, do we? He might see the gold when we find it, and rob us of it afterwards."
XVII
THE FIRST EXPERIMENT
Again Benita and her father stared at each other blankly, almost with despair. They were trapped, cut off from all help; in the power of a man who was going mad. Mr. Clifford said nothing. He was old and growing feeble; for years, although he did not know it, Meyer had dominated him, and never more so than in this hour of stress and bewilderment.
Moreover, the man had threatened to murder him, and he was afraid, not so much for himself as for his daughter. If he were to die now, what would happen to her, left alone with Jacob Meyer? The knowledge of his own folly, understood too late, filled him with shame. How could he have been so wicked as to bring a girl upon such a quest in the company of an unprincipled Jew, of whose past he knew nothing except that it was murky and dubious? He had committed a great crime, led on by a love of lucre, and the weight of it pressed upon his tongue and closed his lips; he knew not what to say.
For a little while Benita was silent also; hope died within her. But she was a bold-spirited woman, and by degrees her courage re-a.s.serted itself. Indignation filled her breast and shone through her dark eyes.
Suddenly she turned upon Jacob, who sat before them smoking his pipe and enjoying their discomfiture.
"How dare you?" she asked in a low, concentrated voice. "How dare you, you coward?"
He shrank a little beneath her scorn and anger; then seemed to recover and brace himself, as one does who feels that a great struggle is at hand, upon the issue of which everything depends.
"Do not be angry with me," he answered. "I cannot bear it. It hurts--ah!
you don"t know how it hurts. Well, I will tell you, and before your father, for that is more honourable. I dare--for your sake."
"For my sake? How can it benefit me to be cooped up in this horrible place with you? I would rather trust myself with the Makalanga, or even," she added with bitter scorn, "even with those b.l.o.o.d.y-minded Matabele."
"You ran away from them very fast a little while ago, Miss Clifford. But you do not understand me. When I said for your sake, I meant for my own. See, now. You tried to leave me the other day and did not succeed.
Another time you might succeed, and then--what would happen to me?"
"I do not know, Mr. Meyer," and her eyes added--"I do not care."
"Ah! but I know. Last time it drove me nearly mad; next time I should go quite mad."
"Because you believe that through me you will find this treasure of which you dream day and night, Mr. Meyer----"
"Yes," he interrupted quickly. "Because I believe that in you I shall find the treasure of which I dream day and night, and because that treasure has become necessary to my life."
Benita turned quickly towards her father, who was puzzling over the words, but before either of them could speak Jacob pa.s.sed his hand across his brow in a bewildered way and said:
"What was I talking of? The treasure, yes, the uncountable treasure of pure gold, that lies hid so deep, that is so hard to discover and to possess; the useless, buried treasure that would bring such joy and glory to us both, if only it could be come at and reckoned out, piece by piece, coin by coin, through the long, long years of life."
Again he paused; then went on.
"Well, Miss Clifford, you are quite right; that is why I have dared to make you a prisoner, because, as the old Molimo said, the treasure is yours and I wish to share it. Now, about this treasure, it seems that it can"t be found, can it, although I have worked so hard?" and he looked at his delicate, scarred hands.
"Quite so, Mr. Meyer, it can"t be found, so you had better let us go down to the Makalanga."
"But there is a way, Miss Clifford, there is a way. You know where it lies, and you can show me."