Chapter 1.VII. He Sets His Trap.
"May I come in? I hope I do not disturb you, my dear friend," saidBonaparte, late one evening, putting his nose in at the cabin door,where the German and his son sat finishing their supper.
It was now two months since he had been installed as schoolmaster inTant Sannie's household, and he had grown mighty and more mighty dayby day. He visited the cabin no more, sat close to Tant Sannie drinkingcoffee all the evening, and walked about loftily with his hands underthe coat-tails of the German's black cloth and failed to see even anigger who wished him a deferential good morning. It was therefore withno small surprise that the German perceived Bonaparte's red nose at thedoor.
"Walk in, walk in," he said joyfully. "Boy, boy, see if there is anycoffee left. Well, none. Make a fire. We have done supper, but--"
"My dear friend," said Bonaparte, taking off his hat, "I came notto sup, not for mere creature comforts, but for an hour of brotherlyintercourse with a kindred spirit. The press of business and the weightof thought, but they alone, may sometimes prevent me from sharing thesecrets of my bosom with him for whom I have so great a sympathy. Youperhaps wonder when I shall return the two pounds--"
"Oh, no, no! Make a fire, make a fire, boy. We will have a pot of hotcoffee presently," said the German, rubbing his hands and looking about,not knowing how best to show his pleasure at the unexpected visit.
For three weeks the German's diffident "Good evening" had met with astately bow; the chin of Bonaparte lifting itself higher daily; and hisshadow had not darkened the cabin doorway since he came to borrow thetwo pounds. The German walked to the head of the bed and took down ablue bag that hung there. Blue bags were a speciality of the German's.He kept above fifty stowed away in different corners of his room--somefilled with curious stones, some with seeds that had been in hispossession fifteen years, some with rusty nails, buckles, and bits ofold harness--in all, a wonderful assortment, but highly prized.
"We have something here not so bad," said the German, smiling knowingly,as he dived his hand into the bag and took out a handful of almonds andraisins; "I buy these for my chickens. They increase in size, but theystill think the old man must have something nice for them. And the oldman--well, a big boy may have a sweet tooth sometimes, may he not? Ha,ha!" said the German, chuckling at his own joke, as he heaped the platewith almonds. "Here is a stone--two stones to crack them--no late patentimprovement--well, Adam's nut-cracker; ha, ha! But I think we shalldo. We will not leave them uncracked. We will consume a few withoutfashionable improvements."
Here the German sat down on one side of the table, Bonaparte on theother; each one with a couple of flat stones before him, and the platebetween them.
"Do not be afraid," said the German, "do not be afraid. I do not forgetthe boy at the fire; I crack for him. The bag is full. Why, this isstrange," he said suddenly, cracking upon a large nut; "three kernels! Ihave not observed that before. This must be retained. This is valuable."He wrapped the nut gravely in paper, and put it carefully in hiswaistcoat pocket. "Valuable, very valuable!" he said, shaking his head.
"Ah, my friend," said Bonaparte, "what joy it is to be once more in yoursociety."
The German's eyes glistened, and Bonaparte seized his hand and squeezedit warmly. They then proceeded to crack and eat. After a while Bonapartesaid, stuffing a handful of raisins into his mouth:
"I was so deeply grieved, my dear friend, that you and Tant Sannie hadsome slight unpleasantness this evening."
"Oh, no, no," said the German; "it is all right now. A few sheepmissing; but I make it good myself. I give my twelve sheep, and work inthe other eight."
"It is rather hard that you should have to make good the lost sheep,"said Bonaparte; "it is no fault of yours."
"Well," said the German, "this is the case. Last evening I count thesheep at the kraal--twenty are missing. I ask the herd; he tells me theyare with the other flock; he tells me so distinctly; how can I think helies? This afternoon I count the other flock. The sheep are not there. Icome back here: the herd is gone; the sheep are gone. But I cannot--no,I will not--believe he stole them," said the German, growing suddenlyexcited. "Some one else, but not he. I know that boy. I knew him threeyears. He is a good boy. I have seen him deeply affected on account ofhis soul. And she would send the police after him! I say I would rathermake the loss good myself. I will not have it; he has fled in fear.I know his heart. It was," said the German, with a little gentlehesitation, "under my words that he first felt his need of a Saviour."
Bonaparte cracked some more almonds, then said, yawning, and more asthough he asked for the sake of having something to converse about thanfrom any interest he felt in the subject:
"And what has become of the herd's wife?"
The German was alight again in a moment.
"Yes; his wife. She has a child six days old, and Tant Sannie would turnher out into the fields this night. That," said the German rising, "thatis what I call cruelty--diabolical cruelty. My soul abhors that deed.The man that could do such a thing I could run him through with aknife!" said the German, his grey eyes flashing, and his bushy blackbeard adding to the murderous fury of his aspect. Then suddenlysubsiding, he said, "But all is now well; Tant Sannie gives her wordthat the maid shall remain for some days. I go to Oom Muller's tomorrowto learn if the sheep may not be there. If they are not, then I return.They are gone, that is all. I make it good."
"Tant Sannie is a singular woman," said Bonaparte, taking the tobaccobag the German passed to him.
"Singular! Yes," said the German; "but her heart is on her right side.I have lived long years with her, and I may say, I have for her anaffection, which she returns. I may say," added the German with warmth,"I may say, that there is not one soul on this farm for whom I have notan affection."
"Ah, my friend," said Bonaparte, "when the grace of God is in ourhearts, is it not with us all? Do we not love the very worm we treadupon, and as we tread upon it? Do we know distinctions of race, or ofsex, or of colour? No!
"'Love so amazing, so divine, It fills my soul, my life, my all.'"
After a time he sank into a less fervent mood, and remarked:
"The coloured female who waits upon Tant Sannie appears to be of avirtuous disposition, an individual who--"
"Virtuous!" said the German; "I have confidence in her. There is that inher which is pure, that which is noble. The rich and high that walk thisearth with lofty eyelids might exchange with her."
The German here got up to bring a coal for Bonaparte's pipe, and theysat together talking for a while. At length Bonaparte knocked the ashesout of his pipe.
"It is time that I took my departure, dear friend," he said; "but,before I do so, shall we not close this evening of sweet communion andbrotherly intercourse by a few words of prayer? Oh, how good and howpleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It islike the dew upon the mountains of Hermon; for there the Lord bestowed ablessing, even life for evermore."
"Stay and drink some coffee," said the German.
"No, thank you, my friend; I have business that must be done tonight,"said Bonaparte. "Your dear son appears to have gone to sleep. He isgoing to take the wagon to the mill tomorrow! What a little man he is."
"A fine boy."
But though the boy nodded before the fire he was not asleep; and theyall knelt down to pray.
When they rose from their knees Bonaparte extended his hand to Waldo,and patted him on the head.
"Good night, my lad," said he. "As you go to the mill tomorrow, we shallnot see you for some days. Good night! Good-bye! The Lord bless andguide you; and may He bring you back to us in safety and find us all asyou have left us!" He laid some emphasis on the last words. "And you,my dear friend," he added, turning with redoubled warmth to the German,"long, long shall I look back to this evening as a time of refreshingfrom the presence of the Lord, as an hour of blessed intercourse with abrother in Jesus. May such often return. The Lord bless you!" he added,with yet
deeper fervour, "richly, richly."
Then he opened the door and vanished out into the darkness.
"He, he, he!" laughed Bonaparte, as he stumbled over the stones. "Ifthere isn't the rarest lot of fools on this farm that ever God Almightystuck legs to. He, he, he! When the worms come out then the blackbirdsfeed. Ha, ha, ha!" Then he drew himself up; even when alone he liked topose with a certain dignity; it was second nature to him.
He looked in at the kitchen door. The Hottentot maid who acted asinterpreter between Tant Sannie and himself was gone, and Tant Sannieherself was in bed.
"Never mind, Bon, my boy," he said, as he walked round to his own room,"tomorrow will do. He, he, he!"
The Story of an African Farm Page 9
