CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
"IT IS THE VOICE OF AN ORACLE."
Swaanepoel's Hoek, poor Tom Carhayes' other farm, was situated in thedivision of Somerset East, somewhere between the Great and Little FishRivers. It was rather an out-of-the-way place, lying in a mountainousdistrict, sparsely inhabited and only reached by rough wheel-tracksthrough narrow, winding _poorts_. But the scenery was wild and romanticto a degree. The bold sweep of bush-grown slopes, the lofty heightsculminating in red iron-bound _krantzes_ whose inaccessible hedgesafforded nesting place for colonies of _aasvogels_, the thunder of themountain torrent pent-up between black rocky walls where the maiden-hairfern hung in solid festoons from every crack and cranny, the cheerfuland abundant sounds of bird and animal life--all this rendered the placea wonderfully pleasant and attractive, if somewhat out-of-the-way,residence.
To Eanswyth Carhayes, however, this very isolation constituted anadditional charm. The solemn grandeur of the soaring mountains, thehush of the seldom trodden valleys, conveyed to her mind, after thebustle and turmoil of the crowded frontier settlement, the perfection ofpeace. She felt that she could spend her whole life on this beautifulspot. And it was her own.
She had only once before visited the place--shortly after her marriage--and then had spent but three or four days there. Its beauties hadfailed at that time to strike her imagination. Now it was different.All the world was a Paradise. It seemed that there was nothing left inlife for her to desire.
The house was a fair size, almost too large for the overseer and hisfamily. That worthy had asked Eustace whether Mrs Carhayes wouldprefer that they should vacate it. There was a substantial outbuilding,used--or rather only half of it was used--as a store, and a saddle andharness room. They could make themselves perfectly snug in that, ifMrs Carhayes wished to have the house to herself.
"I can answer for it: Mrs Carhayes wishes nothing of the sort," he hadreplied. "In fact, we were talking over that very thing on the waydown."
"Sure the children won't disturb her, Mr Milne?"
"Well, it hasn't looked like it up till now. Those youngsters of yoursdon't seem particularly obstreperous, Bentley, and Mrs Carhayes appearsrather to have taken a fancy to them than otherwise."
"If there's a kind sweet lady in this world, Mr Milne, it's MrsCarhayes," said the overseer earnestly. "I know the wife'll make herright comfortable while she's here. She'll save her all bother overhousekeeping or anything of that sort. Excuse the question, but is shelikely to be making a long stay?"
"I shouldn't wonder. You see, there's nowhere else for her to go, andthe quiet of this place suits her after all she has gone through. Andshe has gone through some pretty lively times, I need hardly tell you."
"I should think so. Why, what a narrow escape she had that time youwere bringing her away from Anta's Kloof, when the trap broke down.That was a frightful position for any lady to be in, in all conscience."
"Oh, you heard of that, did you? Ah, I forgot. It was in every paperin the Colony--more or less inaccurately reported, of course," addedEustace drily, and then the two men lit their pipes and chatted for anhour or so about the war and its events.
"By the way, Bentley," said Eustace presently. "Talking about thatoutbuilding. I've decided to knock out the partition--it's only awooden one--between the two rooms next to the storeroom, turn them intoone, and use it as a bedroom for myself. The house is rather congestedwith the lot of us in it, after all. We might go to work at it thisafternoon."
"Certainly, Mr Milne, certainly," replied the overseer. And forthwiththe tool-chest was laid under requisition, and in a couple of hours thenecessary alterations were effected.
This move did not altogether meet with Eanswyth's approval, and sheexpostulated accordingly.
"Why should you be the one turned out in the cold," she said. "There'sno earthly necessity for it. You will be horribly uncomfortable overthere, Eustace, and in winter the nights will be quite bitter. Thenagain, the roof is a thatched one, and the first rain we get will startit leaking like a sieve. Besides, there's plenty of room in the house."
"It isn't that, you dear, thoughtful, considerate guardian angel," heanswered. "It isn't quite that, though I put it that way for Bentley'sbehoof. It is something of a concession to Mother Grundy, for even herethat arch-hag can make her upas power felt, and I don't want to have allthe tongues in the district wagging like the tails of a pack offoxhounds just unkennelled. We had enough of that at Komgha. So I'vearranged that at any rate we shan't be under the same roof. See?"
"Yes; but it's ridiculous all the same. As if we weren't relations,too."
"And will be closer relations soon--in fact, the closest. I suppose wemust wait a year--but that rests with you."
"I don't know. It's an awfully long time," and she sighed. Then ratherhesitatingly: "Darling, you have never yet shown me the little silverbox. We are alone now, and--"
"And you are dying to see it. Well, Eanswyth, it is really a mostremarkable coincidence--in fact, almost makes a man feel superstitious."
It was near sundown. A soft, golden light rested upon the great slopes,and the cooing of doves floated melodiously from the mealie lands in thevalley. The mountain stream roared through its rocky bed at their feet,and among the crannies and ledges of a profusion of piled up bouldersforming miniature cliffs around, a whole colony of bright eyed little_dasjes_ [The "rock rabbit"--really a species of marmot] were disportingthemselves, scampering in and out with a boldness which augured volumesin favour of the peaceable aspect of the two human intruders upon theirsequestered haunt.
"As you say, the time and place are indeed fitting," said Eustace,sitting down upon a boulder and taking the box from its place ofconcealment. "Now, my darling, look at this. The assegai point isbroken short off, driven with such force that it has remained embeddedin the lid."
It was even as he said. Had the blade been driven with a powerfulhammer it could not have been more firmly wedged within the metal.
"That was the blow I received during the fight," he went on. "The dentat the side of it was done when I stood up to the witch-doctress. Itdid not penetrate much that time; not that the blow wasn't hard enough,for it nearly knocked me down, but the assegai was a rotten one and madeof soft iron, and the point flattened out like a Snider bullet.Heavens! but that was an ordeal--something of a nerve-tickler!" headded, with a grave and meditative look in his eyes, as if he werementally re-enacting that trying and critical scene.
Eanswyth shuddered, but said nothing. She nestled rather closer to hisside, as he continued:
"Now to open the box--a thing I haven't done since, partly fromsuperstitious motives--partly that I intended we should do so together--if we ever were to be again together, that is."
He pressed the spring, but it was out of order. It needed the wrench ofa strong knife blade before the lid flew open.
"Look at that. The assegai point is so firmly wedged that it would takea hammer to drive it out--but I propose to leave it in--use it as a`charm' next war perhaps. Now for the letter. It has gone through andthrough it--through the photograph too--and has just dinted the bottomof the box."
He spread out the letter. Those last tender, loving words, direct fromher overflowing heart, were pierced and lacerated by the point of themurderous weapon.
"If this is not an oracle, there never was such a thing," he went on."Look at this"--reading--"`I dare not say "God bless you." Coming fromme it would entail a curse, rather than a blessing...' The point hascut clean through the words `a curse'--Mfulini's assegai has made shortwork of that malediction. Is not that the voice of an oracle?"
She made no reply. She was watching the development of theinvestigation with rapt, eager attention.
"Here again--`Were anything to befall you--were you never to come backto me my heart would be broken...' As the paper is folded it has cutthrough the word `heart'--And--by Jove, this is more than a coincidence!Here again, it has gone clean thro
ugh the same word. Look at the end.`_I want you in all your dangers and hardships to have, with you, thesepoor little lines, coming, as they are, warm from my hand and heart_'...And now for the photograph. It is a sweetly lifelike representation ofyou, my dearest--"
A cry from her interrupted him. The portrait was a three parts lengthcabinet one, cut round to enable it to fit the box, which it didexactly. Right through the breast of the portrait, the assegai pointhad pierced.
"O Eustace--this is an oracle, indeed!" she cried. "Do you not see?The spear point has gone right through my `heart' again for the thirdtime. My dearest love, thrice has my `heart' stood between you anddeath--once in the portrait, twice in the letter. At the same time ithas obliterated the word `curse.' It is, indeed, an `oracle' and--Whatif I had never given you that box at all?"
"I should be a lot of dry bones scattered about the _veldt_ inBomvanaland at this moment," he rejoined. "Now you see how your lovehas twice stood between me and death; has preserved my life for itself.My sweet guardian angel, does not that look as if some Fate had alwaysintended us for each other from the very first!"
'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War Page 37