CHAPTER NINE.
"WHAT A MAN SOWETH."
"Percy, I want you to ride part of the way back with me."
"Delighted, old chap. But--"
"There's no `but' in the case at all. To be plain, you must."
"It isn't to talk any more about--er--what we were on to last night, isit? Because that's settled."
"Well, it concerns that, for it concerns her, and you've got to hearit."
"But I don't want to. And I shan't believe it if I do," was the reply,shortly made.
The two were standing by the cattle-kraal, which contained a troop ofhorses just driven in from the veldt. In the thick of them, armed withhalters and _reims_, two Kaffir servants and a Hottentot were catchingout those required. In front of the house Bayfield's spider was beinginspanned.
"Now it's of no use turning restive, Percy. You've got to hear whatI've got to tell you. It's about--_her_. You can take your choice.Either you hear it from me--in which case it need go no farther, or--you'll hear it from anybody and everybody--for then I shall be obligedto make it public."
"Do you mean to say you'll spread abroad your infernal slanders,Hilary!" The young fellow's face was as white as a sheet, and he couldhardly speak for the extent of his agitation.
"Not unless you force me to. Look. There's your gee in the kraal now.Tell one of them to catch it and come along with me. You'll live tothank me till your dying day."
The stronger will prevailed--even apart from the fell significance ofthe alternative held out. By the time the inspanning was complete, andgood-byes were in progress, Percival was on the scene with his horsesaddled up and ready.
"Aren't you coming in the spider with us, Mr Blachland?" said Lyn,noticing that he, too, was preparing to mount.
"Not the first part of the way," he answered. "There's a home matterPercy and I want to talk over, so he's going to ride an hour or two onthe road with me. Good-bye again, Earle. Had a ripping good shoot.Good-bye, Mrs Fenham," for the latter had now appeared for the firsttime. She looked quite unruffled, but there was that in her face whichtold one, at any rate, there, that she was prepared to begin the war.
"Good-bye, Hilary--er--Mr Blachland," she responded sweetly, contrivingthat the words and tone should be distinctly audible to Lyn, who,already seated in the spider, could not possibly avoid hearing them.But had Hermia only known it the shaft had fallen harmless.
"Did you hear that, father?" Lyn began, as they drove off. "That womanactually called Mr Blachland by his Christian name?"
Bayfield burst out laughing. Then after a precautionary look behind--
"I expect she reckons him her brother-in-law--no, cousin-in-lawalready," he said. "Young West seems to have brought things to a headin that quarter. She and Blachland had a long talk together thismorning. I expect they were sort of arranging family matters."
"Very likely. But I don't think I ever saw any woman I detested sothoroughly and instinctively. Every time I see her I dislike her more."
"Hallo, little one! You're quite fierce on the subject," laughed herfather. "Why do you hate her so? Has she been uncivil to my littlegirlie?"
"No, quite the contrary. But she's utterly false somehow. I wouldn'tbelieve any statement that woman made--even if she were dying. But whata silly boy that young West must be. Why, she's years older thanhimself!"
Bayfield laughed again, but he more than half thought Lyn's estimate wasvery likely a true one.
Some little way behind, the two men had pulled their horses into a walk.
"Steer ahead," said Percival doggedly. "Let's get it over."
"Yes. I think we might now. So you haven't found out anything moreabout--Mrs Fenham, beyond what you told me last night?"
"No. Her husband died about a year ago. That was up-country. I wonderyou never ran against him, Hilary."
"But I know him intimately, only--he isn't her husband."
"The deuce! But he's dead."
"No, he isn't. He's very much alive and kicking--and his name isn'tFenham either, never was."
"Well, what is it then?" and his voice was hard and desperate.
"Hilary Blachland."
"Eh?"
It was all he could say. He could only stare. He seemed to be strickenspeechless with the shock, utterly speechless.
"I'm very sorry for you, Percy, very sorry. But you'll thank me for itbye-and-bye," went on Blachland concernedly. "That woman has told you atissue of lies. I can account for her time for nearly half a dozenyears, for the simple reason that it has been spent with me--the lasttwo years of it in Mashunaland. She left me though, not much more thanhalf a year ago--cleared out with another Johnny, just such a young assas yourself, who thought her a goddess, but they got sick of each otherin no time. Why, she was telling me all about that herself only thismorning, before you were up."
Percival said nothing. For some little while he rode on in silence,gazing straight between his horse's ears. The thing had come upon himas a terrible shock, and he sat, half dazed. It never occurred to himfor one moment to refuse to believe his kinsman's statement, nor anypart of it. Suddenly he looked up.
"Who is she then?" he asked.
"Hermia Saint Clair. You remember?"
"Yes. Good God!"
"So you see, Percy, you can go no further in this," went on the otherafter another interval of silence. "You must break it off--now,absolutely and at once. You quite see that, don't you?"
"Of course. Great Heavens, Hilary--how I have been fooled!"
"You have certainly, but if it's any consolation to you, so haveothers--so will others be--as long as Hermia is about. It isn'tpleasant to be obliged to give her away as I have done--and if it hadconcerned anybody other than yourself, anybody in whom I had nointerest, I should have let the matter rigidly alone, as no business ofmine, and kept a strict silence. But I couldn't stand by and see yourlife utterly ruined at the start, and there are of course, circumstancesin this particular case which rendered it ten times more necessary thatyou should be warned. I gave her the straight chance though. I toldher if she broke off this engagement with you, I wouldn't breathe a wordas to her real identity, and she defied me. So now you know. And nowyou do know, there's not the slightest chance of her getting you intothe toils again, eh?"
"Good Heavens, no," he answered emphatically, and in strong disgust."What a fool I've been. What shall I do, Hilary? I don't feel as if Icould ever see her again. Do you think Bayfield would take me in for afew days if I went on now with you?"
"Take my advice, and go straight back. We don't want to give her awayfurther, and if you clear out abruptly now, it'll likely have thateffect. Besides it has rather a cowardly look. No, give her tounderstand that you know everything now, and of course there's nothingmore to be thought of between you."
"I will. But--what an escape I've had. Still do you know, Hilary--Oh,dash it all, I was--er--beastly fond of her. Don't you understand?"
"Well, rather--considering it's a stage I've gone through myself,"answered the other, kindly. "You'll get over it though. And, lookhere, Percy, I shall be leaving Bayfield's myself in a day or two. Howwould you like to join me? We might go up-country together, and I couldshow you some real wild life. You see, I know my way about in thoseparts, and it would be a first-rate opportunity for you to see somethingof them. What do you say?"
"That's a real splendid idea, Hilary."
"Very well. Now go back and get this business over. Get it cleanbehind you mind, thoroughly and entirely. I'll send you word in acouple of days at the outside where to join me, then roll up your trapsand come straight along. How is that?"
"The very thing."
"Right. Now, Percy. Seriously, mind. There must be no more dallying.You know what I mean?"
"Not likely, knowing what I know now."
"Then you'd better go and get it over at once. I'll say good-bye to theBayfields for you. You turn round right here. Good-bye now--and on
e ofthese days you'll bless your stars for this lucky escape."
"Then you'll let me hear soon, Hilary?"
"In a couple of days at the outside. Good-bye."
A staunch handgrip, and the older man sat there, looking after thereceding form of the younger.
"It strikes me," he said to himself as he turned his horse's head alongthe track again. "It strikes me that I've been only just in time to getthat young fool out of a most deadly mess. Heavens! what a ghastlycomplication it would have been. Moreover, I believe he was sent outhere to find out about me, and what I was doing. Well, instead of himreclaiming me, it has befallen that I have been the one marked out toreclaim him."
Then as he sent his horse along at a brisk canter to make up the timelost during their talk, his mind reverted to himself and his ownaffairs. What a series of surprises had been contained within the lasttwenty-four hours. Could it have been only yesterday that he came alongthis road, serene, content, with no forewarning of what lay in store?Why, it seemed that half a lifetime's drama had been played out withinthat brief space--and now, as he pressed on to overtake Bayfield'sconveyance, the tilt of which was visible some distance ahead movingthrough the bushes, it seemed that with every stride of his horse he wasadvancing into a purer atmosphere. He felt as one, who, having struckupon strange and unwelcome surprises in the foul nauseous air of somelong, underground cavern, was drawing nearer and nearer again to thefree, wholesome, open light of day.
Well, he had saved his young kinsman, and now he was called upon to facethe payment of the price. The time he had spent here, the bright,beautiful, purifying time, was at an end. The past, of which, lookingback upon, he sickened, was not to be so easily buried after all. Hadit not risen up when least expected, to haunt him, to exact itsretribution? Hermia would certainly keep her word; caring nothing inher vindictive spite, to what extent she blackened herself so long asshe could sufficiently besmirch him. Still he would do all he could, ifnot to defeat her intentions, at any rate to draw half their sting.One, at all events, should remain unsullied by the mire which he wellknew she would relentlessly spatter in all directions. That heresolved.
Then a faint, vague, straw of a hope, beset him. What if she had beenplaying a game of bluff? What if she was by no means so ready to giveherself away as she had affected to be? What if--when she found therewas nothing to be gained by it--she were to adopt the more prudentcourse, and maintain silence? It was just a chance, but knowing sowell, her narrow, soulless nature, he knew it to be a slender one.
Even then, what? Even did it hold--it would not affect the main fact.In the consummate purifying of this man's nature which the past fewweeks had effected, he looked backward thence with unutterable abasementand loathing. As he had sown, so must he reap. The re-appearance ofthe past personified had but emphasised that--had not altered it. Hewould be the one to suffer, and he only, he thought, with a dull,anguished kind of feeling which he strove hard to think was that ofconsolation.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, it is good to be at home again," said Lyn. "I don't care much forgoing over to the Earles' at any time, but this time somehow or other, Idetested it. But--oh, I beg your pardon, Mr Blachland. And you foundyour cousin there! How awkward and tactless you must think me!"
"You could never be either awkward or tactless, Lyn," he answered."Only thoroughly natural. Always be that, child. It is such a charm."
The girl smiled softly, half shyly. "Really, you are flattering me.You spoil me as much as father does, and that's saying a great deal, youknow," gaily.
The two were standing on the stoep together, about an hour after theirreturn. Bayfield was down at the kraals, counting in, and looking afterthings in general, and, helping him, small Fred, who, however, wascracking his long whip in such wise as to be rather less of a help thana hindrance with the flocks. The unearthly beauty of the sunset glowwas already merging into the shade of the twilightless evening.
"I wish you were going to stay with us always, Mr Blachland," she wenton. "It would be so nice. If you and father were partners, forinstance, like Mr Barter and Mr Smith--only they squabble--why, thenyou'd always be here."
He looked at her--mentally with a great start--but only for a second.The frank, ingenuous, friendly affection of a child! That was what thewords, the tone, the straight glance of the sweet blue eyes expressed!There was a tinge of melancholy in his voice as he replied:
"Now you flatter me, little Lyn. You would soon find a battered oldfogey like me can be a desperate bore." Then he proceeded to theprosaic and homely occupation of filling and lighting his pipe, smilingto himself sadly over her indignant disclaimer.
The Triumph of Hilary Blachland Page 22
