CHAPTER XVII
THE TWELFTH OF FEBRUARY
John soon settled down into the routine of camp life in Pretoria, which,after one became accustomed to it, was not so disagreeable as mighthave been expected, and possessed, at any rate, the merit of novelty.Although he was an officer of the army, having several horses to rideand his services not being otherwise required, John preferred, on thewhole, to enrol himself in the corps of mounted volunteers, known asthe Pretoria Carbineers. This, in the humble capacity of a sergeant, heobtained leave to do from the officer commanding the troops. He was anactive man, and his duties in connection with the corps kept him fullyemployed during most of the day, and sometimes, when there was outpostduty to be done, during a good part of the night too. For the rest,whenever he returned to the cart--by which he had stipulated he shouldbe allowed to sleep in order to protect Jess in case of any danger--healways found her ready to greet him, and every little preparation madefor his comfort that was possible under the circumstances. Indeed, astime went on, they thought it more convenient to set up their own littlemess instead of sharing that of their friends. So every day they used tosit down to breakfast and dine together at a little table contrived outof a packing-case, and placed under an extemporised tent, for all theworld like a young couple picnicking on their honeymoon. Of course, thesituation was very irksome in a way, but it is not to be denied that ithad a charm of its own.
To begin with, once thoroughly known, Jess was one of the mostdelightful companions possible to a man like John Niel. Never, till thislong _tete-a-tete_ at Pretoria, had he guessed how powerful and originalwas her mind, or how witty she could be when she liked. There was a fundof dry and suggestive humour about her, which, although it would no morebear being written down than champagne will bear standing in a tumbler,was very pleasant to listen to, more especially as John soon discoveredthat he was the only person so privileged. Her friends and relations hadnever suspected that Jess was humorous. Another thing which struck himas time went on, was that she was growing quite handsome. She had beenvery pale and thin when he reached Pretoria, but before a month was overshe had become, comparatively speaking, stout, which was an enormousgain to her appearance. Her pale face, too, gathered a faint tinge ofcolour that came and went capriciously, like star-light on the water,and her beautiful eyes grew deeper and more beautiful than ever.
"Who would ever have thought that it was the same girl!" said Mrs.Neville to him, holding up her hands as she watched Jess solemnlysurveying a half-cooked mutton chop. "Why, she used to be such a poorcreature, and now she's quite a fine woman. And that with this life,too, which is wearing me to a shadow and has half-killed my deardaughter."
"I suppose it is being in the open air," said John, it having neveroccurred to him that the medicine that was doing Jess so much good mightbe happiness. But so it was. After her first struggles came a lull, andthen an idea. Why should she not enjoy his society while she could? Hehad been thrown into her way through no wish of hers. She had no desireto wean him from Bessie; or, if she had the desire, it was one which shewas far too honourable a woman to entertain. He was perfectly innocentof the whole story; to him she was the young lady who happened to be thesister of the woman he was going to marry, that was all. Why should shenot pluck her innocent roses whilst she might? Jess forgot that the roseis a flower with a dangerous perfume, and one that is apt to confuse thesenses and turn the head. So she gave herself full swing, and for someweeks went nearer to knowing what happiness really meant than sheever had before. What a wonderful thing is the love of a woman in itssimplicity and strength, and how it gilds all the poor and common thingsof life and even finds a joy in service! The prouder the woman the moredelight does she extract from her self-abasement before her idol. Onlynot many women can love like Jess, and when they do almost invariablythey make some fatal mistake, whereby the wealth of their affectionis wasted, or, worse still, becomes a source of misery or shame tothemselves and others.
It was after they had been incarcerated in Pretoria for a month thata bright idea occurred to John. About a quarter of a mile from theoutskirts of the camp stood a little house known, probably on account ofits diminutive size, as "The Palatial." This cottage, like almost everyother house in Pretoria, had been abandoned to its fate, its owner, asit happened, being away from the town. One day, in the course of a walk,John and Jess crossed the little bridge that spanned the _sluit_ andwent in to inspect the place. Passing down a path lined on either sidewith young blue gums, they reached the little tin-roofed cottage. Itconsisted of two rooms--a bedroom and a good-sized sitting-room, inwhich still stood a table and a few chairs, with a stable and a kitchenat the back. They went in, sat down by the open door and looked out. Thegarden of the cottage sloped down towards a valley, on the farther sideof which rose a wooded hill. To the right, too, was a hill clothed indeep green bush. The grounds themselves were planted with vines,just now loaded with bunches of ripening grapes, and surrounded by abeautiful hedge of monthly roses that formed a blaze of bloom. Near thehouse, too, was a bed of double roses, some of them exceedingly lovely,and all flowering with a profusion unknown in this country. Altogetherit was a delightful spot, and, after the noise and glare of the camp,seemed a perfect heaven. So they sat there and talked a great deal aboutthe farm and old Silas Croft and a little about Bessie.
"This _is_ nice," said Jess presently, putting her hands behind her headand looking out at the bush beyond.
"Yes," said John. "I say, I've got a notion. I vote we take up ourquarters here--during the day, I mean. Of course we shall have to sleepin camp, but we might eat here, you know, and you could sit here allday; it would be as safe as a church, for those Boers will never try tostorm the town, I am sure of that."
Jess reflected, and soon came to the conclusion that it would be acharming plan. Accordingly, next day she set to work and made the placeas clean and tidy as circumstances would allow, and they commencedhouse-keeping.
The upshot of this arrangement was that they were thrown more togethereven than before. Meanwhile the siege dragged its slow length along. Nonews whatever reached the town from outside, but this did not troublethe inhabitants very much, as they were sure that Colley was advancingto their relief, and even got up sweep-stakes as to the date of hisarrival. Now and then a sortie took place, but, as the results attainedwere very small, and were not, on the whole, creditable to our arms,perhaps the less said about them the better. John, of course, went outon these occasions, and then Jess would endure agonies that were allthe worse because she was forced to conceal them. She lived in constantterror lest he should be among the killed. However, nothing happened tohim, and things went on as usual till the twelfth of February, whenan attack was made on a place called the Red House Kraal, which wasoccupied by Boers near a spot known as the Six-mile Spruit.
The force, which was a mixed one, left Pretoria before daybreak, andJohn went with it. He was rather surprised when, on going to the cart inwhich Jess slept, to get some little thing before saddling up, he foundher sitting on the box in the night dews, a cup of hot coffee which shehad prepared for him in her hand.
"What do you mean by this, Jess?" he asked sharply. "I will not have yougetting up in the middle of the night to make coffee for me."
"I have not got up," she answered quietly; "I have not been to bed."
"That makes matters worse," he exclaimed; but, nevertheless, he drankthe coffee and was glad of it, while she sat on the box and watched him.
"Put on your shawl and wrap something over your head," he said, "the dewwill soak you through. Look, your hair is all wet."
Presently she spoke. "I wish you would do something for me, John," forshe called him John now. "Will you promise?"
"How like a woman," he said, "to ask one to promise a thing withoutsaying what it is."
"I want you to promise for Bessie's sake, John."
"Well, what is it, Jess?"
"Not to go on this sortie. You know you can easily get out of it if youlike."
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br /> He laughed. "You little silly, why not?"
"Oh, I don't know. Don't laugh at me because I am nervous. I am afraidthat--that something might happen to you."
"Well," he remarked consolingly, "every bullet has its billet, and if itdoes I don't see that it can be helped."
"Think of Bessie," she said again.
"Look here, Jess," he answered testily, "what is the good of trying totake the heart out of a fellow like this? If I am going to be shot Ican't help it, and I am not going to show the white feather, even forBessie's sake; so there you are, and now I must be off."
"You are quite right, John," she said quietly. "I should not have likedto hear you say anything different, but I could not help speaking.Good-bye, John; God bless you!" and she stretched out her hand, which hetook, and went.
"Upon my word, she has given me quite a turn," reflected John tohimself, as the troop crept on through the white mists of dawn. "Isuppose she thinks that I am going to be plugged. Perhaps I am! I wonderhow Bessie would take it. She would be awfully cut up, but I expect thatshe would get over it pretty soon. Now I don't think that Jess wouldshake off a thing of that sort in a hurry. That is just the differencebetween the two; the one is all flower and the other is all root."
Then he fell to wondering how Bessie was, and what she was doing, and ifshe missed him as much as he missed her, and so on, till his mind cameback to Jess, and he reflected what a charming companion she was, andhow thoughtful and kind, and breathed a secret hope that she wouldcontinue to live with them after they were married. Unconsciously theyhad arrived at that point of intimacy, innocent in itself, when twopeople become absolutely necessary to each other's daily life. Indeed,Jess had travelled a long way farther, but of this John was of courseignorant. He was still at the former stage, and was not himself awarehow large a proportion of his daily thoughts were occupied by thisdark-eyed girl or how completely her personality overshadowed him. Heonly knew that she had the knack of making him feel thoroughly happyin her company. When he was talking to her, or even sitting silently byher, he became aware of a sensation of restfulness and reliance that hehad never before experienced in the society of a woman. Of course toa large extent this was the natural homage of the weaker nature to thestronger, but it was also something more. It was a shadow of the uttersympathy and complete accord that is the surest sign of the presence ofthe highest forms of affection, which, when it accompanies the passionof men and women, as it sometimes though rarely does, being more oftento be found in perfection in those relations from which the element ofsexuality is excluded, raises it almost above the level of the earth.For the love where that sympathy exists, whether it is between motherand son, husband and wife, or those who, whilst desiring it, have nohope of that relationship, is an undying love, and will endure till thenight of Time has swallowed all things.
Meanwhile, as John reflected, the force to which he was attached wasmoving into action, and soon he found it necessary to come down to theunpleasantly practical details of Boer warfare. More particularly didthis come home to his mind when, shortly afterwards, the man next to himwas shot dead, and a little later he himself was slightly wounded by abullet which passed between the saddle and his thigh. Into the detailsof the fight that ensued it is not necessary to enter here. They were,if anything, more discreditable than most of the episodes of thatunhappy war in which the holding of Potchefstroom, Lydenburg,Rustenburg, and Wakkerstroom are the only bright spots. Suffice it tosay that they ended in something very like an utter rout of the Englishat the hands of a much inferior force, and that, a few hours after hehad started, the ambulance being left in the hands of the Boers, Johnfound himself on the return road to Pretoria, with a severely woundedman behind his saddle, who, as they went painfully along, mingled cursesof shame and fury with his own. Meanwhile exaggerated accounts of theEnglish defeat had reached the town, and, amongst other things, it wassaid that Captain Niel had been shot dead. One man who came in statedthat he saw him fall, and that he was shot through the head. ThisMrs. Neville heard with her own ears, and, greatly shocked, started tocommunicate the intelligence to Jess.
As soon as it was daylight, as was customary with her, Jess had goneover to the little house which she and John occupied, "The Palatial," asit was called ironically, and settled herself there for the day. Firstshe tried to work and could not, so she took a book that she had broughtwith her and began to read, but it was a failure also. Her eyes wouldwander from the page and her ears strain to catch the distant booming ofthe big guns that came from time to time floating across the hills.The fact of the matter was that the poor girl was the victim of apresentiment that something was going to happen to John. Most people ofimaginative mind have suffered from this kind of thing at one time orother in their lives, and have lived to see the folly of it; and therewas more in the circumstances of the present case to excuse indulgencein the luxury of presentiments than as usual. Indeed, as it happened,she was not far out--only a sixteenth of an inch or so--for John wasvery _nearly_ killed.
Not finding Jess in camp, Mrs. Neville made her way across to "ThePalatial," where she knew the girl sat, crying as she went, at thethought of the news that she had to communicate, for the good soul hadgrown very fond of John Niel. Jess, with that acute sense of hearingwhich often accompanies nervous excitement, caught the sound of thelittle gate at the bottom of the garden almost before her visitor hadpassed through it, and ran round the corner of the house to see who wasthere.
One glance at Mrs. Neville's tear-stained face was enough for her. Sheknew what was coming, and clasped at one of the young blue gum treesthat grew along the path to prevent herself from falling.
"What is it?" she said faintly. "Is he dead?"
"Yes, my dear, yes; shot through the head, they say."
Jess made no answer, but clung to the sapling, feeling as though shewere going to die herself, and faintly hoping that she might do so. Hereyes wandered vaguely from the face of the messenger of evil, first upto the sky, then down to the cropped and trodden veldt. Past the gate of"The Palatial" garden ran a road, which, as it happened, was a shortcut from the scene of the fight, and down this road came four Kafirs andhalf-castes, bearing something on a stretcher, behind which rode threeor four carbineers. A coat was thrown over the face of the form on thestretcher, but its legs were visible. They were booted and spurred, andthe feet fell apart in that peculiarly lax and helpless way of whichthere is no possibility of mistaking the meaning.
"_Look!_" she said, pointing.
"Ah, poor man, poor man!" said Mrs. Neville, "they are bringing him hereto lay him out."
Then Jess's beautiful eyes closed, and down she went with the bendingtree. Presently the sapling snapped, and she fell senseless with alittle cry, and as she fell the men with the corpse passed on.
Two minutes afterwards, John Niel, having heard the rumour of his owndeath on arrival at the camp, and greatly fearing lest it should havereached Jess's ears, cantered up hurriedly, and, dismounting as well ashis wound would allow, limped up the garden path.
"Great heavens, Captain Niel!" exclaimed Mrs. Neville, looking up;"why--we thought that you were dead!"
"And that is what you have been telling her, I suppose," he saidsternly, glancing at the pale and deathlike face; "you might have waitedtill you were sure. Poor girl! it must have given her a turn!" and,stooping down, he placed his arms under Jess, and, lifting her withsome difficulty, staggered to the house, where he laid her down uponthe table and, assisted by Mrs. Neville, began to do all in his power torevive her. So obstinate was her faint, however, that their efforts wereunavailing, and at last Mrs. Neville started for the camp to get somebrandy, leaving him to go on rubbing her hands and sprinkling water onher face.
The good lady had not been gone more than two or three minutes when Jesssuddenly opened her eyes and sat up, slipping her feet to the ground.Her eyes fell upon John and dilated with wonder; he thought that she wasabout to faint again, for even her lips blanched, and she began to shakeand trembl
e all over in the extremity of her agitation.
"Jess, Jess," he said, "for God's sake don't look like that, youfrighten me!"
"I thought you were--I thought you were----" she said slowly, thensuddenly burst into a passion of tears and fell forward upon his breastand lay there sobbing her heart out, her brown curls resting against hisface.
It was an awkward and a most moving position. John was only a man, andthe spectacle of this strange woman, to whom he had lately grown so muchattached, plunged into intense emotion, awakened, apparently, by anxietyabout his fate, stirred him very deeply--as it would have stirredanybody. Indeed, it struck some chord in him for which he could notquite account, and its echoes charmed and yet frightened him. What didit mean?
"Jess, dear Jess, pray stop; I can't bear to see you cry so," he said atlast.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and stood looking at him, her handresting on the edge of the table behind her. Her face was wet with tearsand looked like a dew-washed lily, and her beautiful eyes were alightwith a flame that he had never seen in the eyes of woman before. Shesaid nothing, but her whole face was more eloquent than any words, forthere are times when the features can convey a message in that languageof their own which is more suitable than any tongue we talk. Thereshe stood, her breast heaving with emotion as the sea heaves when thefierceness of the storm has passed--a very incarnation of the intensestlove of woman. And as she stood something seemed to pass before her eyesand blind her; a spirit took possession of her that absorbed all herdoubts and fears, and she gave way to a force that was of her and yetcompelled her, as, when the wind blows, the sails compel a ship. Then,for the first time, where her love was concerned, she put out all herstrength. She knew, and had always known, that she could master him, andforce him to regard her as she regarded him, did she but choose. Howshe knew it she could not say, but it was so. Now she yielded to anunconquerable impulse and chose. She said nothing, she did not evenmove, she only looked at him.
"Why were you in such a fright about me?" he stammered.
She did not answer, but kept her eyes upon his face, and it seemed toJohn as though power flowed from them; for, while she looked, he feltthe change come. Everything melted away before the almost spiritualintensity of her gaze. Bessie, honour, his engagement--all wereforgotten; the smouldering embers broke into flame, and he knew that heloved this woman as he had never loved any living creature before--thathe loved her even as she loved him. Strong man as he was, he shook likea leaf before her.
"Jess," he said hoarsely, "God forgive me! I love you!" and he bentforward to kiss her.
She lifted her face towards him, then suddenly changed her mind, andlaid her hand upon his breast.
"You forget," she said almost solemnly, "you are going to marry Bessie."
Crushed by a deep sense of shame, and by a knowledge of the calamitythat had overtaken him, John turned and limped from the house.
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