CHAPTER XXXII
HE SHALL DIE
The night was still and very dark. A soft cold rain, such as often fallsin the Wakkerstroom and New Scotland districts of the Transvaal, andwhich more resembles a true north country mist than anything else, wasdrizzling gently but persistently. This condition of affairs was asfavourable as possible to their enterprise, and under cover of it theHottentot and the white girl crept far down the hill to within twelveor fourteen paces of the back of the waggon-house. Then Jantje, who wasleading, suddenly put back his hand and checked her, and at that momentJess caught the sound of a sentry's footsteps as he tramped leisurely upand down. For a couple of minutes or so they stopped thus, not knowingwhat to do, when suddenly a man came round the corner of the buildingholding a lantern in his hand. On seeing the lantern Jess's firstimpulse was to fly, but Jantje by a motion made her understand that shewas to stop still. The man with the lantern advanced towards the otherman, holding the light above his head, and looking dim and gigantic inthe mist and rain. Presently he turned his face, and Jess saw that itwas Frank Muller himself. He stood thus for a moment waiting till thesentry was near to him.
"You can go to your supper," he said. "Come back in half an hour. I willbe responsible for the prisoners till then."
The man growled out an answer something about the rain, and thendeparted round the end of the building, followed by Muller.
"Now then, come on," whispered Jantje; "there is a hole in thestore-room wall, and you may be able to speak to Missie Bessie."
Jess did not require a second invitation, but slipped up to the wallin five seconds. Passing her hand over the stone-work she found theair-hole, which she remembered well, for they used to play bo-peep thereas children, and was about to whisper through it, when suddenly the doorat the other end opened, and Frank Muller entered, bearing the lanternin his hand. For a moment he stood on the threshold, opening the slideof the lantern in order to increase the light. His hat was off, and hewore a cape of dark cloth thrown over his shoulders, which seemed toadd to his great breadth. Indeed the thought flashed through the mindof Jess as she looked at him through the hole, and saw the light strikeupon his face and form, glinting down his golden beard, that he was themost magnificent specimen of humanity whom she had ever seen. In anotherinstant he had turned the lantern round and revealed her dear sisterBessie to her gaze. Bessie lay upon one of the half-empty sacks ofmealies, apparently half asleep, for she opened her wide blue eyes andlooked round apprehensively like one suddenly awakened. Her golden curlswere in disorder and falling over her fair forehead, and her face wasvery pale and troubled, and marked beneath the eyes with deep bluelines. Catching sight of her visitor she rose hurriedly and retreated asfar from him as the pile of sacks and potatoes would allow.
"What is it?" she asked in a low voice. "I gave you my answer. Why doyou come to torment me again?"
He placed the lantern upon an upright sack of mealies, and carefullybalanced it before he answered. Jess could see that he was taking timeto consider.
"Let us recapitulate," he said at length, in his full rich voice. "Theposition is this. I gave you this morning the choice between consentingto marry me to-morrow and seeing your old uncle and benefactor shot.Further, I assured you that if you would not consent to marry me youruncle should be shot, and that I would then make you mine, dispensingwith the ceremony of marriage. Is that not so?"
Bessie made no answer, and he continued, his eyes fixed upon her face,and thoughtfully stroking his beard.
"Silence gives consent. I will go on. Before a man can be shot accordingto law he must be tried and condemned according to law. Your uncle hasbeen tried and has been condemned."
"I heard it all, cruel murderer that you are," said Bessie, lifting herhead for the first time.
"So! I thought you would, through the crack. That is why I had you putinto this place; it would not have looked well to bring you before thecourt;" and he took the light and examined the crevice. "This wall isbadly built," he went on in a careless tone; "look, there is anotherspace there at the back;" and he actually came up to it and held thelantern close to the airhole in such fashion that its light shonethrough into Jess's eyes and nearly blinded her. She shut them quicklyso that the gleam reflected from them should not betray her, then heldher breath and remained still as the dead. In another second Muller tookaway the light and replaced it on the mealie bag.
"So you say you saw it all. Well, it must have shown you that I was inearnest. The old man took it well, did he not? He is a brave man, andI respect him. I fancy that he will not move a muscle at the last. Thatcomes of English blood, you see. It is the best in the world, and I amproud to have it in my veins."
"Cannot you stop torturing me, and say what you have to say?" askedBessie.
"I had no wish to torture you, but if you like I will come to thepoint. It is this. Will you now consent to marry me to-morrow morningat sun-up, or am I to be forced to carry the sentence on your old uncleinto effect?"
"I will not. I will not. I hate you and defy you."
Muller looked at her coldly, and then drew his pocket-book from hispocket and extracted from it the death-warrant and a pencil.
"Look, Bessie," he said. "This is your uncle's death-warrant. At presentit is valueless and informal, for I have not yet signed, though, asyou will see, I have been careful that everybody else should. If once Iplace my signature there it cannot be revoked, and the sentence mustbe carried into effect. If you persist in your refusal I will sign itbefore your eyes;" and he placed the paper on the book and took thepencil in his right hand.
"Oh, you cannot, you cannot be such a fiend," wailed the wretched woman,wringing her hands.
"I assure you that you are mistaken. I both can and will. I have gonetoo far to turn back for the sake of one old Englishman. Listen, Bessie.Your lover Niel is dead--that you know."
Here Jess behind the wall felt inclined to cry out, "it is a lie!" but,remembering the absolute necessity of silence, she checked herself.
"And what is more," went on Muller, "your sister Jess is dead too! shedied two days ago."
"Jess dead! Jess dead! It is not true. How do you know that she isdead?"
"Never mind; I will tell you when we are married. She is dead, and,except for your uncle, you are alone in the world. If you persist inthis he will soon be dead too, and his blood will be upon your head, foryou will have murdered him."
"And if I were to say yes, how would that help him?" she cried wildly."He is condemned by your court-martial--you would only deceive me andmurder him after all."
"On my honour, no. Before the marriage I will give this warrant tothe pastor, and he shall burn it as soon as the service is said. But,Bessie, don't you see that these fools who tried your uncle are onlylike clay in my hands? I can bend them this way and that, and whateversong I sing they will echo it. They do not wish to shoot your uncle, andwill be glad indeed to get out of it. Your uncle shall go in safety toNatal, or stay here if he wills. His property shall be secured to him,and compensation paid for the burning of his house. I swear it beforeGod."
She looked up at him, and he could see that she was inclined to believehim.
"It is true, Bessie, it is true--I will rebuild the place myself, andif I can find the man who fired it he shall be shot. Come, listen to me,and be reasonable. The man you love is dead, and no amount of sighingcan bring him to your arms. I alone am left--I who love you better thanlife, better than man ever loved woman before. Look at me: am I not aproper man for any maid to wed, though I be half a Boer? And I have thebrains, too, Bessie, the brains that shall make us both great. We weremade for each other--I have known it for years, and slowly, slowly,I have worked my way to you till at last you are in my reach;" and hestretched out both his arms towards her.
"My darling," he went on, in a soft, half-dreamy voice, "my love anddesire, yield, now--yield! Do not force this new crime upon me. I wantto grow good for your sake, and have done with bloodshed. When you aream wife I believe
that the evil will go out of me, and I shall growgood. Yield, and never shall woman have had such a husband as I will beto you. I will make your life soft and beautiful to you as women lovelife to be. You shall have everything that money can buy and powerbring. Yield for your uncle's sake, and for the sake of the great love Ibear you."
As he spoke he was slowly drawing nearer Bessie, whose face wore ahalf-fascinated expression. As he came the wretched woman gatheredherself together and put out her hand to repulse him. "No, no," shecried, "I hate you--I cannot be false to him, living or dead. I shallkill myself--I know I shall."
He made no answer, but only came always nearer, till at last his strongarms closed round her shrinking form and drew her to him as easily asthough she were a babe. And then all at once she seemed to yield. Thatembrace was the outward sign of his cruel mastery, and she struggled nomore, mentally or physically.
"Will you marry me, darling--will you marry me?" he whispered, with hislips so close to the golden curls that Jess, straining her ears outside,could only just catch the words--
"Oh, I suppose so; but I shall die--it will kill me."
He strained her to his heart and kissed her beautiful face again andagain, until Jess heard the heavy footsteps of the returning sentry,and saw Muller leave go of her. Then Jantje caught Jess by the hand,dragging her away from the wall, and presently she was once moreascending the hill-side towards the Hottentot's kennel. She had desiredto find out how matters stood, and she had found out indeed. To attemptto portray the fury, the indignation, and the thirst to be avenged uponthis fiend who had attempted to murder her and her lover, and had boughther dear sister's honour at the price of their innocent old uncle'slife, would be impossible. Her weariness had left her; she was mad withall she had seen and heard, with the knowledge of what had been doneand of what was about to be done. She even forgot her passion in it, andswore that Muller should never marry Bessie while she lived to preventit. Had she been a bad woman herein she might have seen an opportunity,for Bessie once tied to Muller, John would be free to marry her, butthis idea never even entered her mind. Whatever Jess's errors may havebeen she was a self-sacrificing, honourable woman, and one who wouldhave died rather than profit thus by circumstance. At length theyreached the shelter again and crept into it.
"Light a candle," said Jess.
Jantje hunted for and struck a match. The piece of candle they had beenusing, however, was nearly burnt out, so from the rubbish in the cornerhe produced a box full of "ends," some of them three or four incheslong. In the queer sort of way that trifles do strike us when the mindis undergoing a severe strain, Jess remembered instantly that for yearsshe had been unable to discover what became of the odd bits of thecandles used in the house. Now the mystery was explained.
"Go outside and leave me. I want to think," she said.
The Hottentot obeyed, and seated upon the heap of skins, her foreheadresting on her hand and her fingers buried in her silky rain-soakedhair, Jess began to review the position. It was evident to her thatFrank Muller would be as good as his word. She knew him too well todoubt this for a moment. If Bessie did not marry him he would murderthe old man, as he had tried to murder herself and John, only this timejudicially, and then abduct her sister afterwards. She was the onlyprice that he was prepared to take in exchange for her uncle's life. Butit was impossible to allow Bessie to be so sacrificed; the thought washorrible to her.
How, then, was it to be prevented?
She thought again of confronting Frank Muller and openly accusing himof her attempted murder, only, however, to dismiss the idea. Who wouldbelieve her? And if they did believe what good would it do? She wouldonly be imprisoned and kept out of harm's way, or possibly murdered outof hand. Then she thought of attempting to communicate with her uncleand Bessie, to tell them that John was, so far as she knew, alive,only to recognise the impossibility of doing so now that the sentry hadreturned. Besides, what object could be served? The knowledge that Johnwas alive might, it is true, encourage Bessie to resist Muller, but thenthe death of the old man must certainly ensue. Dismissing thisproject from her mind Jess began to consider whether they could obtainassistance. Alas! it was impossible. The only people from whom she couldhope for aid would be the natives, and now that the Boers had triumphedover the English--for this much she had gathered from her captors andfrom Jantje--it was very doubtful if the Kafirs would dare to assisther. Besides, at the best it would take twenty-four hours to collect aforce, and by then help would come too late. The situation was hopeless.Nowhere could she see a ray of light.
"What," Jess said aloud to herself--"what is there in the world thatwill stop a man like Frank Muller?"
And then of an instant the answer rose up in her brain as though byinspiration--
"_Death!_"
Death, and death alone, would stay him. For a minute she held the ideain her mind till she grew familiar with it, then it was driven out byanother thought that followed swiftly on its track. Frank Muller mustdie, and die before the morning light. By no other possible means couldthe Gordian knot be cut, and both Bessie and her old uncle be saved. Ifhe were dead he could not marry Bessie, and if he died with the warrantunsigned their uncle could not be executed. That was the terrible answerto her riddle.
Yet it was most just that he should die, for had he not murdered andattempted murder? Surely if ever a man deserved a swift and awful doomthat man was Frank Muller.
And so this forsaken, helpless girl, crouching upon the ground a tornand bespattered fugitive in the miserable hiding-hole of a Hottentot,arraigned the powerful leader of men before the tribunal of herconscience, and without pity, if without wrath, passed upon him asentence of extinction.
But who was to be the executioner? A dreadful thought flashed into hermind and made her heart stand still, but she dismissed it. No, she hadnot come to that! Her eyes wandering round the kennel lit uponJantje's assegais and sticks in the corner, and these gave her anotherinspiration. Jantje should do the deed.
John had told her one day when they were sitting together in "ThePalatial" at Pretoria the whole of Jantje's awful story about themassacre of his relatives by Frank Muller twenty years before, of which,indeed, she already knew something. It would be most fitting that thisfiend should be removed from the face of the earth by the survivor ofthose unfortunates. That would be poetic justice, and justice is so rarein the world. But the question was, would he do it? The little man wasa wonderful coward, that she knew, and had a great terror of Boers, andespecially of Frank Muller.
"Jantje," she whispered, stooping towards the bee-hole.
"Yah, missie," answered a hoarse voice outside, and next second theHottentot's monkey-like face came creeping into the ring of light,followed by his even more monkey-like form.
"Sit down there, Jantje. I am lonely here and want to talk."
He obeyed her, with a grin. "What shall we talk about, missie? Shall Itell you a story of the time when the beasts could speak, as I used todo years and years ago?"
"No, Jantje. Tell me about that stick--that long stick with a knob atthe top, and the nicks cut on it. Has it not something to do with FrankMuller?"
The Hottentot's face instantly grew evil. "Yah, yah, missie!" he said,reaching out a skinny claw and seizing the stick. "Look, this big notch,that is my father, Baas Frank shot him; and this next notch, that is mymother, Baas Frank shot her; and this next notch, that is my uncle, anold, old man, Baas Frank shot him also. And these small notches, theyare when he has beaten me--yes, and other things too. And now I willmake more notches, one for the house that is burnt, and one for the oldBaas Croft, my own Baas, whom he is going to shoot, and one forMissie Bessie." And Jantje drew from his side his large white-handledhunting-knife and began to cut them then and there upon the hard wood ofthe stick.
Jess knew this knife of old. It was Jantje's peculiar treasure, thechief joy of his narrow little heart. He had brought it from a Zulu fora heifer which her uncle had given him in lieu of half a year's wage.The Zulu had it fr
om a half-caste whose kraal was beyond Delagoa Bay.As a matter of fact it was a Somali knife, manufactured from the softnative steel which takes an edge like a razor, and with a handle cut outof the tusk of a hippopotamus. For the rest, it was about a foot long,with three grooves running the length of the blade, and very heavy.
"Stop cutting notches, Jantje, and let me look at that knife."
He obeyed, and put it into her hand.
"That knife would kill a man, Jantje," she said.
"Yes, yes," he answered: "no doubt it has killed many men."
"It would kill Frank Muller, now, would it not?" she went on, suddenlybending forward and fixing her dark eyes upon the little man's jaundicedorbs.
"Yah, yah," he said starting back, "it would kill him dead. Ah! what athing it would be to kill him!" he added, making a fierce sound, halfgrunt, half laugh.
"He killed your father, Jantje."
"Yah, yah, he killed my father," said Jantje, his eyes beginning to rollwith rage.
"He killed your mother."
"Yah, he killed my mother," he repeated after her with eager ferocity.
"And your uncle. He killed your uncle."
"And my uncle too," he went on, shaking his fist and twitching his longtoes as his hoarse voice rose to a subdued scream. "But he will die inblood--the old Englishwoman, his mother, said it when the devil was inher, and the devils never lie. Look! I draw Baas Frank's circle in thedust with my foot; and listen, I say the words--I say the words," and hemuttered something rapidly; "an old, old witch-doctor taught me how todo it, and what to say. Once before I did it, and there was a stone inthe circle, now there is no stone: look, _the ends meet_. He will die inblood; he will die _soon_. I know how to read the omen;" and he gnashedhis teeth and sawed the air with his clenched fists.
"Yes, you are right, Jantje," she said, still holding him with her darkeyes. "He will die in blood, and he will die to-night, and _you_ willkill him, Jantje."
The Hottentot started, and turned pale under his yellow skin.
"How?" he said; "how?"
"Bend forward, Jantje, and I will tell you how;" and Jess whispered forsome minutes into his ear.
"Yes! yes! yes!" he said when she had done. "Oh, what a fine thing it isto be clever like the white people! I will kill him to-night, and thenI can cut out the notches, and the spooks of my father and my mother andmy uncle will stop howling round me in the dark as they do now, when Iam asleep."
Jess Page 39