CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
DISCOMFITURE.
"Well, girlie, and what d'you think of our prospective guest now thatyou've had time to form an opinion?" said Ben Halse, a few days aftertheir arrival at Ezulwini.
"Candidly," answered Verna, "I think him one of the nicest andpleasantest men I ever met."
"Or _the_ nicest?"
"Perhaps that."
"Well, that's lucky, because it'll be much jollier for you to have someone fresh to talk to for the next few weeks. Shall we get Harry Stridealong too--on the principle of the more the merrier?"
"N-no; I don't think in this case the more would be a bit the merrier,rather the reverse."
"Same here. But I thought perhaps a young un about might be jollier foryou while we old 'uns yarned," answered her father, with a spice oflurking mischief.
"`Old 'uns?'" echoed Verna, raising her eyebrows. "Why, you don't callMr Denham _old_?"
"Oh, that's drawn you, has it?" cried Ben. "Quite right, dear. Heisn't old."
Under her father's straight gaze and quizzical laugh Verna could not forthe life of her restrain a slight change of colour.
"I shall have to give you such a pinch, dear, if you talk like that,"she said. "One that'll hurt."
The two were standing among the rose-bushes in the garden of theNodwengu Hotel. It was a lovely morning, though Alp-like masses ofcloud in the distance gave promise of thunder. Ben Halse had beendetained longer than he had reckoned on, but had found it unnecessary togo on to Durban. In a day or two he expected to return home. The timeat Ezulwini went by pleasantly enough. The trader had several oldfriends in the place, and Verna was in request for tennis, here orthere. So, too, was Denham, who had at once been made free of the readyfriendliness of a small community.
"Talking of Denham," went on Ben Halse, puffing at a newly lighted pipethat would only half draw, "it's a rum thing, Verna, that just as youhad been wondering what sort of chap he was he should have turned uphere."
"Yes, isn't it? But I hope he won't find it too rough with us," sheadded somewhat anxiously.
"Not he. Didn't he say he'd knocked about in South America? I expectit's a sight rougher in parts there than here. He's a man who takesthings as they come, rely upon it. And he doesn't put on an atom of`side.'"
Incidentally, "side" is _the_ unpardonable sin among our colonialbrethren, and rightly so.
"No, that he certainly doesn't," assented Verna decisively. "Oh, I daresay it'll be all right."
At the same time she was wondering as to this anxiety on behalf of thisparticular guest's comfort. She had never done so on behalf of anyother, had never dreamed of giving any such consideration a secondthought. They must just take them as they found them, or, if not, stayaway, was her rule.
"Why, here comes Harry Stride," said Ben, looking up. "He seems a bitcross by the way he's walking. You can nearly always tell a man's moodby the way he walks. Hallo, Harry!"
The young prospector turned to join them, only too delighted. He was ahandsome and manly-looking young fellow, as Verna was not slow torecognise as she noted his tall form coming down the garden path.
"Come from the club, Harry?" said the trader.
"Yes, I couldn't stick it any longer. That man Denham's there, layingdown the law, as usual. I'm fed up with Denham. It seems that a manhas only to come out from home with enough coin, and crowd on enough`side,' and--"
"But this one doesn't crowd on `side,'" interrupted Verna quietly.
The other stared.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," he said. "I forgot he was a friend of yours.I ought to have remembered."
"We most of us suffer from lapse of memory at times, Harry," said BenHalse kindly. "Often two people don't take to each other, and thatthrough no fault on either side. Now the sun's over the yard-arm andI'm going in to wet the bosun's whistle. You join?"
"No, thanks, Mr Halse. It's rather too early for me."
"Sure? Well, I'll have to do it alone, then. So long." And hestrolled off, leaving the two young people together.
"What a splendid chap your father is, Verna," began Stride, for on thestrength of his former "refusal," with which we heard him acquaint hispartner, she conceded him the use of her Christian name--at any rate, inprivate. "So kind and tactful."
Verna smiled. The encomium holding good of herself, she refrained fromlecturing him on the subject of the vilified Denham. As a matter offact, since Stride's arrival she had been about with him far more thanwith the other, so that really there was no ground for the younger man'sjealous irritation--as yet. As yet? Exactly. But he, for his part,was looking ahead. Would she not be under the same roof for anindefinite time with the objectionable stranger? He knew by experiencethat it was impossible to be under the same roof for an indefinite timewith Verna Halse and go forth again heart-whole. And this strangerseemed to be "coiny," and, to give the devil his due, was a fine-lookingfellow, poor Stride allowed, whereas he himself hardly had a "fiver" tohis name, and lived mainly on the great god Hope. In fact, rememberingthis he was inclined to abandon the resolution we heard him express tohis partner--trying his luck again. It was hopeless. He had bettermake up his mind to throw up the sponge. But Verna's next words actedupon him like a spur.
"We start for home to-morrow," she said.
"No!"
"Yes." She could not help smiling a little at his crestfallen look.All the woman within her accepted the tribute, and at the same time feltpitiful towards him.
"Do you know why I came over here now, Verna?" he burst forth suddenly,impulsively. "It was because I heard you would be here, and I couldn'thelp trying my luck again."
His animated face and eager eyes held her. Yet her reply wasunequivocal, though kind.
"Your luck is elsewhere, Harry," she answered softly but firmly. "Tryit. I don't want to hurt you, but there is no other way out."
He began to plead. He was at low ebb now, but luck might change.Beyond that he had expectations; nothing very great, but substantial.Would she not wait? And a great deal more he poured forth, there in thegolden sunshine among the roses, and the bees humming from flower toflower, and the flitting butterflies. But Verna's answer was the samesteady shake of the head.
"It's of no use, Harry," she said. "I like you very much, as you know,but not in that way. People are drawn towards each other--in that way--or they are not. I mean, you were talking about luck changing, and soon, but if you were ever such a millionaire I'm afraid it would make nodifference in that way. Now do you see?"
He said nothing. He looked at her with misery in his eyes. Never hadshe seemed so all-alluring as here under the burning midday sun, so cooland fresh and self-possessed. And it was hopeless.
"Well, I suppose I'm nothing but a born idiot," he said, but notresentfully.
Verna laid a hand upon his arm.
"No, you're not," she said. "Only--your luck is elsewhere. You'll findit some day sooner or later, and remember my words."
Then she looked at him in astonishment, for a scowl had come over hisface. Following his glance she saw the reason. Denham was walkingalong the path which led to the house. He must have seen them, butlooked as if he had not, and passed on without any attempt to join them.Verna's astonishment was dispelled, but she made no remark as to it orits cause. Tactfully she led Harry Stride on to other topics, and hisjealous eyes noted that she made no excuse to return to the house, infact, she drew him off down a little-used path under the trees; nor wasit until an hour after that they returned, a little late for lunch,Verna declaring, publicly, that they had had a most delightful walk.
Yes, but for all that, she and Denham would be for weeks beneath thesame roof, thought poor Stride. How lucky some men were, how unluckyothers. This one apparently had not a care in the world, and now he wasgoing to rob him, Stride, of all that made life worth living. How hehated him, sitting there beside Verna, chatting easily to her.
"What's the matter with your appet
ite, Mr Stride?" remarked thehostess, noticing that he sent everything away almost untouched.
"Oh, I don't know, Mrs Shelford. It's too hot, I suppose. Or it maybe that I tried a new concoction at the club that some fellow left thema recipe for. It's supposed to be an appetiser, but I thought it vile.Heard any more about Shelford coming back, by the way?"
"I'm expecting him next week."
"Sorry, because I shall miss seeing him. Am starting back to-morrow."
The other smiled faintly to herself. She thought she knew what waswrong with Stride's appetite.
"You're making a short stay this time," she said.
Harry mumbled something about "rough on Robson being left alone," whichcaused the smile to deepen.
"How are the niggers out your way, Stride?" asked a man who had onlyarrived that morning.
"Getting bumptious. A boy of ours came at me with a pick-handle theother day because I threatened to hammer him. Only threatened, mind!hadn't started in to do it. I did it then, though--had to, you know."
"I should think so," said the hostess emphatically. "They want all thehammering they can get."
"Rather. Well, we cleared this dev--er--this chap out. When he got toa safe distance he turned round and sang out that it didn't matter now,all the whites in the country were going to be made meat of directly,and he and some others would take particular care of _us_. I got out arifle, but that didn't scare him. He knew I daren't fire."
"Quite right. Mustn't take the law into your own hands, Stride," saidInspector James humorously. "Only, if you do, see that you abolish the_corpus delicti_."
"Talking of _corpus delicti_," said the man who had first spoken. "Isthere anything in this rumour that a white man has been killed in theMakanya forest? I heard that something had been found that pointed toit, but not the remains of the chap himself."
"You mustn't swallow every yarn you hear," said James.
"We've been killed at least three times this year already on thoseterms," said Ben Halse.
"I suppose I shall be included in the fourth," laughed Denham, alludingto his approaching visit.
Stride, however, had suddenly grown silent.
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The Ezulwini Club was not large, as we have said; however, it wouldsometimes get lively at night, but not always. To-night it was lively,very; the circulation of whiskies-and-sodas brisk.
"Anything more been heard about that yarn from the Makanya?" began theman who had sprung the subject at the hotel table. Others asked, "Whatyarn?"
"_You_ ought to know something of it, Hallam," went on the firstspeaker, the point of the emphasis being that the man addressed was anofficial holding an important post.
"Why?" curtly.
"Because you're in a position to."
This was all the other wanted.
"Exactly," he retorted. "But if I'm in a position to know, I'm in aposition not to tell. See?"
There was a laugh, in which the offender, who at first looked resentful,joined.
"What's the joke?" asked James, who at that moment entered.
"Joke? Oh, Slingsby's putting up idiotic questions," answered Hallamshortly. "Here, Mabule," to the Bar-keeper, "set 'em up again--you knowevery one's pet poison. What's yours, Mr Denham? You'll join?"
"Thanks. All right," answered Denham, who had come to the conclusionthat the hospitality of this club required a strong head, which,fortunately, he possessed. But Harry Stride, less fortunate, did not.
"I can tell you all about that yarn," he broke in. "Slingsby's not sowide of the mark either. Some one has come to grief in the Makanya, anda white man too, for I picked up a saddle in the Bobi drift, and it hada bullet hole through the flap, an unmistakable bullet hole."
"You picked it up?" said some one, while Inspector James, who was "inthe know," muttered to himself, "Damned silly young ass!"
Then followed a considerable amount of questionings and discussion.When was this, and where, and how would it have happened, and what hadhe done with the saddle, and so forth? Hallam, it might have beennoticed, stood out of the discussion altogether. Perhaps he was "in theknow" also; at any rate, as an official, he was instinctively averse tomaking public property of this kind of thing. But Harry Stride had gotoutside of quite as many whiskies-and-sodas as were good for him, andthe effect, coming on top of his then state of frothy mental tension,was disastrous. Now he said--
"You must have crossed just above the Bobi drift, Mr Denham. I hearyou came through the Makanya that way."
"Yes, I shouldn't wonder if it was somewhere about there," answeredDenham easily. "But, you see, I didn't know any of the names of driftsand so on. I just `drifted' on."
"Were you alone?" queried Stride, with a marked emphasis on the lastword, and looking the other full in the face.
There could be no possible mistake as to the meaning. A scarcelyperceptible start ran through those present. This was getting too thickaltogether, was the general opinion.
"Very much so, except when I could get hold of some black chap for aguide," answered Denham, easily again. "I suppose, though, in the lightof your discovery I must consider myself jolly lucky to have comethrough with a whole skin."
The ease and tactfulness of the answer saved the situation. The tensionrelaxed. Stride had been having a little too much whisky, was theconsensus of opinion. But, by a strange instinct, one, or even twothere present were not prepared to swear to themselves that there couldbe nothing in it.
Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion Page 13