The native glanced upwards. "There is, Inkos," he replied; "but we may just ride through it and escape."
Great inky clouds were gathering with alarming rapidity, and hastening to unite themselves to the dense black pall which drew on, silent, spectral, and gigantic, over the mountain-tops, and a dull, m.u.f.fled roar boomed nearer and nearer between the fitful puffs of hot wind which fanned the travellers" faces. And now the scene was a weird one indeed.
They were just entering a long defile--for they had reached the mountains--and along the rugged crags of the lonely heights towering above on either side, the red flashes were playing. Higher and higher piled the solid cloud-ma.s.ses, and a few large drops of rain began to patter upon the stones. The gloom deepened, and all Nature was hushed as if in preparation for the coming battle of the elements.
Hark! Was that the ring of a horse"s hoof far down the pa.s.s? No. Not a human creature is abroad in this awesome place to-night, with the black, brooding storm overhead, and the clans of the savage enemy besetting every step of the road with peril. A huge bird of prey soars away from one of the desolate crags, uttering a hoa.r.s.e, long-drawn cry like the wailing of a lost soul. It is pitch dark. Then a flash lights up the road, and Claverton, profiting by it, peers anxiously ahead.
"Come along, Sam. There"s a smooth bit here, anyhow, and we can get over a good stride of ground," and, spurring up his horse, away he goes at a long, even canter, with the Natal boy close behind him striving to keep up; and the sparks fly from beneath the horses" hoofs as they dash on through the night. A roll of thunder--long, heavy, and appalling-- peals through the pa.s.s, a vivid flash of plum-coloured flame, and Claverton suddenly reins in his steed--who, with a snort of terror, rears and shies--just in time to avoid charging headlong into another horseman advancing at an equally rapid pace from the contrary direction, and who also reins in with a jerk. A powerfully-built, dark-featured man who stifles a half-spoken e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n; but beyond that neither speak.
What is the spell thrown over these two as they sit their horses gazing at each other in the lightning"s horrible, scathing gleam in that gloomy pa.s.s? Is it an instinct? It is more. In that one vivid flash occupying not a second of time, Claverton has recognised in this sudden apparition the man whom he had seen and heard in the deserted hut, deliberately instigating his a.s.sa.s.sination. He recognises something more. As, with a muttered "good-night," the other pa.s.ses on into the gloom, the lightning flashes again, revealing upon his bridle-hand a curious ring. It is an exact facsimile of the lost ring which glittered in the moonbeams beneath the old pear-tree on that last night at Seringa Vale.
VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
"GIVE US LONG REST... DARE DEATH OR DREAMFUL EASE."
We left Lilian crushed beneath the weight of this fresh blow dealt her by the man who had been the curse of her life.
To a night of anguish--anguish so poignant that she sometimes feared for her very reason--succeeded days of dull and hopeless apathy. Her whole being, body and soul alike, seemed to be numb and dead. She could not talk, she dared not think, nor could she pray. Even that last resource was denied her; for there came upon her a miserable feeling of fatality, that her G.o.d had forsaken her, leaving her to be the sport of some cruel demon. And, amid her apathy, her thoughts would, in spite of herself, float dreamily back in a mechanical kind of way to all that had gone before. She had been sad-hearted then in the temporary separation from her lover; but now! that time was ecstasy itself in comparison with this. Somehow, it never occurred to her to doubt one word of Truscott"s statement. He had been so positive, so resolute, that it must be true.
And then she remembered the hundred and one little incidents--hints that her lover had let fall--uneasiness manifested on an occasion--the veiled compunction with which he had touched upon his former life--all stood out now in startling conspicuousness. Even that day had opened so propitiously, and lo, within one single hour, life was ended for her.
Sorely anxious were the Paynes over this fell change which had come upon her on that sunny afternoon. They could elicit nothing from her. She was not well, she admitted, but would be all right in a day or two, no doubt. And this, with such a ghost of a smile upon her white face, that Payne, suddenly struck with an idea, s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat and rushed down into the town to inquire if any fresh news had been received from the seat of war. Had she, unknown to them, heard that harm had befallen her lover? If so, that would amply account for the depression. So he went diligently to work to hunt up news; but no telegrams of a dispiriting nature had been received, quite the contrary--the enemy had had another thrashing, and there was no mention of loss on the colonial side. All this was a relief to Payne. But sorely puzzled; indeed, completely baffled; he returned to his wife and reported accordingly.
"I tell you what, George," she began, and her face wore a troubled and concerned expression. "I"ve heard something--something that makes me think this Captain Truscott"s at the bottom of it."
"Eh?"
"Well, he was here yesterday afternoon for more than two hours, and Lilian hasn"t been herself since. She didn"t tell me, but I heard it while you were out."
Payne stared at her blankly, but made no reply.
"You know I never did like that man," continued she. "I told you so at first. And I"m perfectly certain that he and Lilian are something more than merely old acquaintances." And then she told him of the latter"s dismayed look on first recognising Truscott in the crowd, and one or two other things that had not escaped her observation. "He has been persecuting her in some way, I"m sure, and I won"t have her persecuted,"
concluded the warm-hearted little woman.
Payne was whistling meditatively. He had a high opinion of his wife"s intelligence in all matters relating to the idiosyncrasies of her s.e.x, so he would just let her go on.
"Well, what"s to be done?" he said. "We can"t ask the fellow what the devil he"s been up to, and Lilian won"t tell us."
"Can"t we? I think we can, and ought."
Payne shook his head, and looked gloomy. The affair was beginning to a.s.sume a serious phase. It was a delicate business, and the honest frontiersman felt thoroughly perplexed. He did not want to make a fool of himself, or of any one else, through officiousness or meddling.
"I know a trick worth two of that, Annie," he said at last.
"What is it?"
"Wire to Claverton. Eh?"
She paused. "Well, perhaps that would be the best plan."
"Good. I"ll cut down and do it now." And, sliding from the table whereon he had been seated swinging his legs, he reached down a jar of tobacco from a shelf, and hastily cramming his pipe, started off. "What shall I tell him, though?" he asked, suddenly stopping in the doorway.
"Won"t do to pitch it too strong, eh?"
"N-no. Wait a bit," and then she concocted the message which we have seen Claverton receive; and Payne being on his way to despatch it, she turned away with a look of relief over the prospect of decreasing responsibility.
Lilian, meanwhile, had become a mere shadow of her old self, and the one spark of comfort left to her was that her persecutor had kept himself out of her sight. For he had left the city, bound for the seat of war, and, for reasons of his own, he had refrained from bidding farewell to the Paynes in person, but had sent a note explaining that he was ordered off at a minute"s warning. He had got a command at last, he said; only some levies, at present, but still that was something to go on with, and he must leave for the front immediately. Which missive was read by its recipients with feelings of decided relief.
The fact was, the gallant Truscott began to suspect that it might be advisable for him to take himself out of the way for a time, and he had no desire to meet his rival in person. Let the two settle it as best they might, was his cynical reflection; settle it they must, and to his, Truscott"s, satisfaction--on that point he felt perfectly safe. He had played a bold game and had won, and, now that he had won, it would never do to spoil it by any chance blundering. So with a few lines of renewed warning, merciless, pithy, and to the point, posted to Lilian--the wily scoundrel departed for the seat of war, and unless a well-aimed bullet should pierce the black, scheming heart, and of that there was but small chance, there would be no more happiness for her on earth. There were times when she would almost make up her mind to throw off the hateful thrall, to defy him to do his worst, whatever that worst might be; but then would rise up the frightful facts, as he had laid them before her in all their nakedness, and she would fall asleep, only to be haunted by a series of terrible dreams; visions of a crowded court hushened to a deathly silence in expectation of the dread sentence; of a small group in a grim gaol-yard, in the chill morning--one face among them lit up with fiendish exaltation--a noose, a gallows, and a black, hideous beam.
"My love--my sweet lost love!" she would moan, waking from one of these frightful fantasies in a flood of streaming tears. "Was it for this you were restored to me again? Ah, why did we ever meet?" And the black, silent hours melted away into dawn, but brought with them no comfort.
More than once had her affectionate hostess tried to get at the secret of her grief--but Lilian was firm. Meanwhile, the Paynes began to grow seriously alarmed. A very little more of this, and the results would be disastrous. Nothing had been heard of the telegram, and they became more and more anxious every day.
"Miss Strange, do let"s go for a walk when I come back; it"ll be such a lovely evening." The speaker was Rose Payne, who was hurriedly gathering up her books, and cramming them into a bag, preparatory to starting for afternoon school.
"So we will, dear. Only you must come back in good time."
"Won"t I?" gleefully cried the little girl, flinging her arms round Lilian"s neck. She was rapturously fond of her former preceptress, all the more so, perhaps, now that she was subjected to the sterner discipline of school; and a long, quiet evening walk with Lilian, all to herself, was a treat indeed. "Won"t I just come straight back! It"ll be nice and cool then, and we can go ever so far over the hill, above Fern Kloof. So long, till four."
"Good-bye, Rosie dear," replied Lilian, kissing the child affectionately, and, with a sigh, watching her bound light-heartedly away. Then she turned from the doorway, and, with a drooping gesture of abandonment, threw herself into a low chair. The Paynes were out somewhere, and, as on that former afternoon, she had the house entirely to herself. The soft air came in through the open windows, warm but not oppressive, from the tree-fringed shade. A great striped b.u.t.terfly floated in, and, scarcely aware of its mistake, fluttered around a large vase of flowers upon the table. And still she sat, heedless of everything, with her hands pressed to her face, thinking, thinking--ever thinking.
"Only four days ago," she said to herself, "four short days--and now!
Ah, G.o.d, it is too cruel!" and the tears welled forth and slowly began to force their way through the closed fingers.
The hum of the voices of a couple of pa.s.sers-by sound drowsily upon the calm; then, the ring of hoofs coming up the street at a rapid canter.
It stops, as if some one had reined in before the door--but she heeds it not. Some one dismounting at the next house, she thinks. Then a quick, firm tread in the pa.s.sage, and a man is standing inside the room. With a low, startled cry, Lilian looks up and falls back in her chair in a deathly faint. It is Claverton.
In a moment he is beside her, and has her in his arms. "Oh, Lilian, my darling! What _is_ this? They did right to send for me--Good G.o.d, Lilian! Why, what have you been doing with yourself to get like this?"
he adds, in a tone of undisguised alarm, startled by her white and dejected looks.
But no reply can she make. Fairly taken by storm, she is clinging tightly to him, her face buried in his breast. Only a convulsive sob shakes her frame from head to foot.
"What have you been doing with yourself, child?" he continues, vehemently. "Why, you are as white and pale as the mere ghost of your former self. Lilian!" but still she cannot answer. "Lilian; look at me, I say. I have ridden straight here, day and night as hard as I could ride, to come to you and never to leave you again."
He paused; but the expected words of joy and of love came not. Suddenly she drew herself away from him, and the look on her face was as the look of death. Already she had failed to keep her side of the compact--that compact written in tears, and sealed with the throes of a breaking heart--and she had doomed him. No, but she would not.
"Arthur, you must leave me. Now, at once, before it is too late," she exclaimed, in a quick, alarmed tone.
"Lilian. Are you mad?"
Not a shade of anger or reproach is there in his voice. Amazement and indulgent tenderness alone are to be traced.
And she? Frantic with apprehension, she knew not what to say. To warn him of danger would be but to drive him right into its jaws. What should she do? Ah! That was it. The old promise.
"Lilian, what has come between us, now? Only tell me, darling, and it will all be cleared away."
It was terrible. Her brain reeled as, with wild, dilated eyes, she stood gazing at him. His presence was so unexpected--it had burst upon her like a thunderbolt. He had, as he said, travelled night and day to reach her side--and now she must bid him leave her for ever though it broke her heart, as it certainly would. They two must never look upon each other again in life. Then her brain grew cold and steady. She must not flinch, she must save him from this ruthless enemy at all and whatever cost to herself. To herself! Ah, but--and to him? The answer to this question flashed across her determination--the consciousness of how valueless would be the life she was about to save. Yet--O G.o.d! the recollection of those terrible, menacing words! She sank her head into her clasped hands and shuddered. Again, so softly, so tenderly, he repeated his question:
"Lilian; what has come between us? Tell me, darling!"