CHAPTER XIX
HANS COETZEE COMES TO PRETORIA
Once he had turned the corner, John's recovery was rapid. Naturally of avigorous constitution, when the artery had reunited, he soon made upfor the great loss of blood which he had undergone, and in a little morethan a month from the date of his wound physically, was almost as good aman as ever.
One morning--it was the 20th of March--Jess and he were sitting in "ThePalatial" garden. John was lying in a lone cane deck chair that Jesshad borrowed or stolen out of one of the deserted houses, and smokinga pipe. By his side, in a hole in the flat arm of the chair, fashionedoriginally to receive a soda-water tumbler, was a great bunch of purplegrapes which she had gathered for him; and on his knees lay a copy ofthat journalistic curiosity, the "News of the Camp," which was chieflyremarkable for its utter dearth of news. It was not easy to run ajournal in a beleaguered town.
They sat in silence: John puffing away at his pipe, and Jess, herwork--one of his socks--lying idly upon her knees, her hands claspedover it, and her eyes fixed upon the lights and shadows that played withbroad fingers upon the wooded slopes beyond.
So silently did they sit that a great green lizard came and baskedhimself in the sun within a yard of them, and a beautiful stripedbutterfly perched deliberately upon the purple grapes! It was adelightful day and a delightful spot. They were too far from the camp tobe disturbed by its rude noise, and the only sounds that reached theirears were the rippling of running water and the whispers of the wind,odorous with the breath of mimosa blooms, as it stirred the stiff greyleaves on the blue gums.
They were seated in the shade of the little house that Jess had learnedto love as she had never loved a spot before, but around them lay theflood of sunshine shimmering like golden water; and beyond the red lineof the fence at the end of the garden, where the rich pomegranate bloomtried to blush the roses down, the hot air danced merrily above therough stone wall like a million microscopic elves at play. Peace!everywhere was peace! and in it the full heart of Nature beat out inradiant life. Peace in the voice of the turtle-doves among the willows!peace in the play of the sunshine and the murmur of the wind! peacein the growing flowers and hovering butterfly! Jess looked out at thewealth and glory which were spread before her, and thought that it waslike heaven; then, giving way to the melancholy strain in her nature,she began to wonder idly how many human beings had sat and thought thesame things, and had been gathered up into the azure of the past andforgotten; and how many would sit and think there when she in her turnhad been utterly swept away into that gulf whence no echo ever comes!But what did it matter? The sunshine would still flood the earth withgold, the water would ripple, and the butterflies hover; and there wouldbe other women to sit and fold their hands and consider them, thinkingthe same identical thoughts, beyond which our human intelligence cannottravel. And so on for thousands upon thousands of centuries, till atlast the old world reaches its journey's appointed end, and, passingfrom the starry spaces, is swallowed up with those it bore.
And she--where would she be? Would she still live on, and love andsuffer elsewhere, or was it all a cruel myth? Was she merely a creaturebred of the teeming earth, or had she an individuality beyond the earth?What awaited her after sunset?--Sleep. She had often hoped that it wassleep, and nothing but sleep. But now she did not hope that. Her lifehad centred itself around a new interest, and one that she felt couldnever die while that life lasted. She hoped for a future now; for ifthere was a future for her, there would be one for _him_, and then herday would come, and where he was there she would be also. Oh, sweetmockery, old and unsubstantial thought, bright dream set halowise aboutthe dull head of life! Who has not dream it, but who can believe init? And yet, who shall say that it is not true? Though philosophers andscientists smile and point in derision to the gross facts and freaksthat mark our passions, is it not possible that there may be a placewhere the love shall live when the lust has died; and where Jess willfind that she has not sat in vain in the sunshine, throwing out her pureheart towards the light of a happiness and a visioned glory whereof, forsome few minutes, the shadow seemed to lie within her?
John had finished his pipe, and, although she did not know it, waswatching her face, which, now when she was off her guard, was no longerimpassive, but seemed to mirror the tender and glorious hope that wasfloating through her mind. Her lips were slightly parted, and her wideeyes were full of a soft strange light, while on the whole countenancewas stamped a look of eager thought and spiritualised desire such as hehad known portrayed in ancient masterpieces upon the face of theVirgin Mother. Except as regards her eyes and hair, Jess was not even agood-looking person. But, at that moment, John thought that her face wastouched with a diviner beauty than he had yet seen on the face ofwoman. It thrilled him and appealed to him, not as Bessie's beauty hadappealed, but to that other side of his nature, of which Jess alonecould turn the key. It was more like the face of a spirit than that of ahuman being, and it almost frightened him to see it.
"Jess," he said at last, "what are you thinking of?"
She started, and her face resumed its normal expression. It was asthough a mask had been suddenly set upon it.
"Why do you ask?" she said.
"Because I want to know. I never saw you look like that before."
She laughed a little.
"You would call me foolish if I told you what I was thinking about.Never mind, it has gone wherever thoughts go. I will tell you what I amthinking about now, which is--that it is about time we got out of thisplace. My uncle and Bessie must be half distracted."
"We've had more than two months of it now. The relieving column can't befar off," suggested John; for these foolish people in Pretoria labouredunder a firm belief that one fine morning they would be gratified with avision of the light dancing down a long line of British bayonets, and ofBoers evaporating in every direction like storm clouds before the sun.
Jess shook her head. She was beginning to lose faith in relievingcolumns that never came.
"If we don't help ourselves, my opinion is that we may stop here tillwe are starved out, which in fact we are. However, it's no usetalking about it, so I'm off to fetch our rations. Let's see, have youeverything you want?"
"Everything, thanks."
"Well, then, mind you stop quiet till I come back."
"Why," laughed John, "I am as strong as a horse."
"Possibly; but that is what the doctor said, you know. Good-bye!" andJess took her big basket and started on what John used feebly to callher "rational undertaking."
She had not gone fifty paces from the door before she suddenly caughtsight of a familiar form seated on a familiar pony. The form was fatand jovial-looking, and the pony was small but also fat. It was HansCoetzee--none other!
Jess could hardly believe her eyes. Old Hans in Pretoria! What could itmean?
"_Oom_ Coetzee! _Oom_ Coetzee!" she called, as he came ambling past her,evidently heading for the Heidelberg road.
The old Boer pulled up his pony, and gazed around him in a mystifiedfashion.
"Here, _Oom_ Coetzee! Here!"
"_Allemachter!_" he said, jerking his pony round. "It's you, MissieJess, is it? Now who would have thought of seeing you here?"
"Who would have thought of seeing _you_ here?" she answered.
"Yes, yes; it seems strange; I dare say that it seems strange. But I ama messenger of peace, like Uncle Noah's dove in the ark, you know. Thefact is," and he glanced round to see if anybody was listening, "I havebeen sent by the Government to arrange about an exchange of prisoners."
"The Government! What Government?"
"What Government? Why, the Triumvirate, of course--whom may the Lordbless and prosper, as He did Jonah when he walked on the wall of thecity."
"Joshua, when he walked round the wall of the city," suggested Jess."Jonah walked down the whale's throat."
"Ah! to be sure, so he did, and blew a trumpet inside. I remembernow; though I am sure I don't know how he did it. The fact is
that ourglorious victories have quite confused me. Ah! what a thing it is to bea patriot! The dear Lord makes strong the arm of the patriot, and takescare that he hits his man well in the middle."
"You have turned wonderfully patriotic all of a sudden, _Oom_ Coetzee,"said Jess tartly.
"Yes, missie, yes; I am a patriot to the bone of my back! I hate theEnglish Government; damn the English Government! Let us have our landback and our _Volksraad_. Almighty! I saw who was in the right atLaing's Nek there. Ah, those poor _rooibaatjes!_ I killed four of themmyself; two as they came up, and two as they ran away, and the last onewent head-over-heels like a buck. Poor man! I cried for him afterwards.I did not like going to fight at all, but Frank Muller sent to me andsaid that if I did not go he would have me shot. Ah, he is a devil of aman, that Frank Muller! So I went, and when I saw how the dear Lord hadput it into the heart of the English general to be a bigger fool eventhat day than he is every day, and to try and drive us out of Laing'sNek with a thousand of his poor _rooibaatjes_, then, I tell you, I sawwhere the right lay, and I said, 'Damn the English Government! What isthe English Government doing here?' and after Ingogo I said it again."
"Never mind all that, _Oom_ Coetzee," broke in Jess. "I have heard youtell a different tale before, and perhaps you will again. How are myuncle and my sister? Are they at the farm?"
"Almighty! you don't suppose that I have been there to see, do you? But,yes, I have heard they are there. It is a nice place, that Mooifontein,and I think that I shall buy it when we have turned all you Englishpeople out of the land. Frank Muller told me that they were there. Andnow I must be getting on, or that devil of a man, Frank Muller, willwant to know what I have been about."
"_Oom_ Coetzee," said Jess, "will you do something for me? We areold friends, you know, and once I persuaded my uncle to lend you fivehundred pounds when all your oxen died of the lungsick."
"Yes, yes, it shall be paid back one day--when we have hunted the damnedEnglishmen out of the country." And he began to gather up his reinspreparatory to riding off.
"Will you do me a favour?" said Jess, catching the pony by the bridle.
"What is it? What is it, missie? I must be getting on. That devil of aman, Frank Muller, is waiting for me with the prisoners at the RooihuisKraal."
"I want a pass for myself and Captain Niel, and an escort. We wish to gohome."
The old Boer held up his fat hands in amazement.
"Almighty!" he said, "it is impossible. A pass!--who ever heard of sucha thing? Come, I must be going."
"It is not impossible, Uncle Coetzee, as you know," said Jess. "Listen!If I get that pass I will speak to my uncle about the five hundredpounds. Perhaps he would not want it all back again."
"Ah!" said the Boer. "Well, we are old friends, missie, and 'neverdesert a friend,' that is my saying. Almighty! I must ride a hundredmiles--I will swim through blood for a friend. Well, well, I must see.It depends upon that devil of a man, Frank Muller. Where are you to befound--in the white house yonder? Good. To-morrow the escort will comein with the prisoners, and if I can get it they will bring the pass.But, missie, remember the five hundred pounds. If you do not speak toyour uncle about that I shall be even with him. Almighty! what a thingit is to have a good heart, and to love to help your friends! Well,good-day, good-day," and off he cantered on his fat pony, his broad faceshining with a look of unutterable benevolence.
Jess cast a look of contempt after him, and then went on towards thecamp to fetch the rations.
When she returned to "The Palatial," she told John what had takenplace, and suggested that it would be as well, in case there should bea favourable reply to her request, to have everything prepared for astart. Accordingly, the cart was brought down and stood outside "ThePalatial," where John unscrewed the patent caps and filled them withcastor-oil, and ordered Mouti to keep the horses, which were all inhealth, though "poor" from want of proper food, well within hail.
Meanwhile, old Hans pursued the jerky tenour of his way for an hour orso, till he came in sight of a small red house.
Presently, from the shadow in front of the red house emerged a rider,mounted on a powerful black horse. The horseman--a stern, handsome,bearded man--put his hand above his eyes to shade them from the sun, andgazed up the road. Then he seemed suddenly to strike his spurs into thehorse, for the animal bounded forward swiftly, and came sweeping towardsHans at a hand gallop.
"Ah! it is that devil of a man, Frank Muller!" ejaculated Coetzee. "NowI wonder what he wants? I always feel cold down the back when he comesnear me."
By this time the plunging black horse was being reined up alongside ofhis pony so sharply that it reared till its great hoofs were pawing theair within a few inches of Hans' head.
"Almighty!" said the old man, tugging his pony round. "Be careful,nephew, be careful; I do not wish to be crushed like a beetle."
Frank Muller--for it was he--smiled. He had made his horse rearpurposely, in order to frighten the old man, whom he knew to be anarrant coward.
"Why have you been so long? and what have you done with the Englishmen?You should have been back half an hour ago."
"And so I should, nephew, and so I should, if I had not been detained.Surely you do not suppose that I would linger in the accursed place?Bah," and he spat upon the ground, "it stinks of Englishmen. I cannotget the taste of them out of my mouth."
"You are a liar, Uncle Coetzee," was the cool answer. "English with theEnglish, Boer with the Boer. You blow neither hot nor cold. Be carefullest I show you up. I know you and your talk. Do you remember what youwere saying to the Englishman Niel in the inn-yard at Wakkerstroomwhen you turned and saw me? I heard, and I do not forget. You know whathappens to a 'land betrayer'?"
Hans' teeth positively chattered, and his florid face blanched withfear.
"What do you mean, nephew?" he asked.
"I--ah!--I mean nothing. I was only speaking a word of warning to you asa friend. I have heard things said about you by----" and he droppedhis voice and whispered a name, at the sound of which poor Hans turnedwhiter than ever.
"Well," went on his tormentor, when he had sufficiently enjoyed histerror, "what sort of terms did you make in Pretoria?"
"Oh, good, nephew, good," he gabbled, delighted to find a fresh subject."I found the Englishmen supple as a tanned skin. They will give up theirtwelve prisoners for our four. The men are to be in by ten to-morrow.I told their commandant about Laing's Nek and Ingogo, and he would notbelieve me. He thought I lied like himself. They are getting hungrythere now. I saw a Hottentot I knew, and he told me that their boneswere beginning to show."
"They will be through the skin before long," muttered Frank. "Well,here we are at the house. The General is there. He has just come up fromHeidelberg, and you can make your report to him. Did you find out aboutthe Englishman--Captain Niel? Is it true that he is dead?"
"No, he is not dead. By the way, I met _Oom_ Croft's niece--the darkone. She is shut up there with the Captain, and she begged me to try andget them a pass to go home. Of course I told her that it was nonsense,and that they must stop and starve with the others."
Muller, who had been listening to this last piece of information withintense interest, suddenly checked his horse and answered:
"Did you? Then you are a bigger fool than I thought you. Who gave youauthority to decide whether they should have a pass or not?"
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