VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
A VOICE OUT OF THE PAST.
"Safe."
Only one little word of four letters, and yet to Lilian Strange it seemsjust all the difference between death and life; and the great spiderycharacters in which that one little word is scribbled across the slip ofred-brown paper which she holds in her trembling hand, are fairer in hereyes than the most tasteful of gold-engrossed illumination. At times,during the last few days, she has marvelled at the bare possibility ofexistence under the circumstances; and now, this morning, as she gazesupon the contents of the telegram which has just been handed to her, andwhich she has hardly had strength enough to open, so awful theapprehension of what it might disclose--the relief is almost too great.
"_Safe_."
Only one word, but it is from himself; his own hand penned that message,which in its brevity is worth to her a column of detail at second hand.The colour comes and goes in her ashy face, and she sinks into a chair,faint and giddy beneath the shock. He is safe, and she will see himagain. But then flashes in the thought of that other barrier--Truscottand his fatal knowledge. Was it not in this man's power to part themagain? Ah, surely not. Whatever dreadful mystery there is, she feelssure somehow that it will be cleared up. She will see him again--herone heart's love--whom she sent forth to a cruel death. She willexplain all, and he will forgive her--though it is the second time shehas driven him from her--yes, she knows that, even if that last hurriednote, which he had sent back to her on the eve of his awful peril, andwhich is now all blurred from the tears which have rained upon it--thatlast precious relic--had not been what it was.
And Annie Payne, entering at this moment--having the while been at theback of the house, where she could neither see nor hear the telegraphboy--started and stared in amazement, for Lilian broke into a radiantsmile as she held out the despatch, and then burst into a flood ofhappy, grateful tears.
"There, Lilian darling. Didn't I tell you while there was life therewas hope? And now you'll see that everything will come right," said herwarm-hearted friend, going over to kiss her. And then out of sheersympathy, she began to cry, too.
"Please, missis," said the Hottentot servant-girl, bursting into theroom in great trepidation, "there's a lady at the gate who's very ill.She seems hardly able to stand."
"Goodness gracious!" cried kind-hearted Annie Payne. "Who can she be?We must get her in--Come, Lilian!"
The sun beat fiercely down into the wide dusty street, which was silentand deserted in the broiling forenoon. Not a soul was visible, saveone. Leaning unsteadily against the garden railings, as if for support,stood a figure clothed in black conventual garb.
"Why, Lilian, it's a nun," whispered Annie Payne. Then aloud, as theyreached the stranger's side: "Now, do please come in at once and have agood long rest, and a glass of wine. The heat has been too much foryou. Here, take my arm. No, don't try and talk yet."
The nun looked up with a faint smile, at the kindly, impulsive tones.
"You are very good," she began, speaking with a foreign accent. "Thesun is so hot, but I shall soon be better."
"Of course you will," was the cheery reply; and in a moment the suffererfound herself on a comfortable sofa in a cool, half-darkened room, sorefreshing after the glare of the street, while her hostess and Lilianset to work to administer restoratives.
Their charge was a striking-looking woman, still quite young. Offoreign aspect, her face, though deathly pale, was very handsome, andlighted by a pair of large dark eyes. An uncommon face withal, and onewhich interested her entertainers keenly.
"Who is she, Lilian?" whispered Annie Payne, hurriedly beckoning theother from the room. "Roman Catholic, or one of your High ChurchSisters? You know all about that sort of thing."
"She must be from the convent. There are no Anglican Sisters here.Besides, she's foreign, evidently."
They returned to the nun, who, professing herself quite restored by hershort rest, declared she must return home.
"Not to be thought of, for some hours at least," replied her hostess,decisively. "You have narrowly escaped a sunstroke as it is. I'll sendround to the convent immediately, and let them know you're here, andthat I'm not going to allow you to move before the evening. At least,I'll go myself, that'll be better than sending. Lilian, take her toyour room, it's quieter there, and away from the children's noise, andmake her lie down for at least three hours. By the way, I was nearlyforgetting. Who shall I say?"
"I am known as Sister Cecilia. God will bless you for your kindness tome, and--"
"There, there, you are not well enough to talk," interrupted Annie, withgood-humoured brusqueness, as she hurried away to prepare for hererrand.
Of a certainty the sufferer could have been left in no better hands, andjust then such a work of mercy was doubly grateful to Lilian, whose ownhopes had been so miraculously fulfilled. Her charge having sunk into adeep, refreshing sleep, Lilian moved noiselessly to a seat in thewindow, and there, with her eyes fixed upon the outside world, she lether busy thoughts have free scope. Something in the stillness of theday took her memory back to that fatal afternoon when Truscott had comein and dashed the cup of happiness from her lips. She remembered theterrible shock the discovery of his reappearance had been, and then theruthless manner in which he had seared her heartstrings as with ared-hot iron, and a reaction overtook her. If there was anything in hisknowledge, why, his terrible threats were all-powerful for evil still.Yet her lover's life was safe for the present. He had been snatchedalmost miraculously from the cruel hands of his savage enemies. Let herbe thankful for that, at any rate. Perhaps Heaven might be even yetmore merciful to her--to them both--and the other dark mystery might becleared up. Ah, that only it would!
For a couple of hours her reverie had run on, when a sudden ejaculationand a few words, muttered hurriedly in a foreign language sounding likeSpanish or Italian, recalled her.
"Are you feeling better, Sister?" she began, softly, rising at once, andgoing over to her charge.
The latter hardly seemed to hear. With gaze set and rigid, herattention was fixed on something opposite the bed, and Lilian noticedthat her lips were livid and trembling.
"Who is that?" she gasped. "Am I dreaming? What is he--to you?"
Lilian's face flushed softly, as she followed the other's glance. Itwas riveted on two lifelike cabinet portraits of her lover, which stoodframed upon the table.
"What is Lidwell to you?" went on the sufferer, half raising herself,while her burning eyes sought Lilian's with a feverish glow. "Ah, Isee--I need not ask. But where is he? Here? _No_--not here!"
It was now Lilian's turn to grow deathly pale. She pressed her hand toher heart to still its beatings, and felt as if she must faint.Lidwell! Only once before had she heard that name--only from one other.Who was this woman, and what did she know? There must be truth inTruscott's sinister allegations, then. Better to know the whole truth,whatever it might he, than walk blindfold any longer. Her impulse foundvent in a despairing cry.
"Oh, Sister, I am in sore trouble. For the love of the good God, whomyou are vowed to serve, tell me all you know about him you callLidwell."
The nun lay back for a moment as if to recover her self-command. Thenshe said in a firmer tone, but hurriedly, and with a foreign accent:
"If I tell you all I know about him, I need only tell you that you arethe happiest woman in the whole world."
"But he is in great danger. He has an enemy; a ruthless, unscrupulousenemy who is determined on his ruin--to take his life even."
"Who is this enemy? What is his name?" asked the nun, with awakeninginterest.
"Truscott--Ralph Truscott."
"I never heard of him. He is an Englishman. I do not know anyEnglishman that knew Lidwell. But now tell me--how does this Truscottthreaten him? Tell me all--then I can possibly help you. Do not fear,I shall keep your secret as closely as the grave. I am dead to theworld, remember."
Lilian needed no further persuasion. She poured forth the whole of herwoeful and heart-breaking story into this stranger's ear; the first, infact, to hear it. At one point in her narrative the listener's paleface flushed, and her eyes burned, but mastering herself, she preservedher impassibility to the end.
"You did well indeed to tell me all," she said, when Lilian ceased. "Itwas indeed the finger of Heaven that directed me here to-day. The man,Truscott, has told you infamous lies, and his threats are powerless. Hecannot harm your lover, about whom at that time no one knows more thanI. But--guess. Who do you think I am--or was?"
A light seemed to dawn upon Lilian, but the other anticipated her.
"Before I entered religion my name was Anita de Castro."
Lilian was too overcome to make any reply. The nun continued:
"As I said, I am dead to the world, and such matters can hurt me littlenow; but the man need not have slandered my poor name. It is perfectlyabove slander, thanks to Lidwell. I tell you he was the saving of me.I dare not think of what and where I should be now but for his influenceand the remembrance of him. My father was taken prisoner, with threeothers, by a British vessel, and hanged, and I was adrift in Zanzibarwithout a friend. I need not have been an hour destitute of merecreature necessaries; but that influence saved me. For _you_ willunderstand me when I tell you how I loved him; yet he never cared forme. He liked me as a something to amuse him--a plaything--a child--butno more."
She paused, and Lilian sat holding her hand, but did not interrupt.
"Your lover is safe," went on Sister Cecilia. "All that was told you isuntrue. He never fought against the English flag, or against any onebut the tribes in the far interior. The affair with the _Sea Foam_ tookplace a year before he came among us; I remember it well. And now tellme about this spy of Truscott's. What was he like?"
Lilian remembered the man only too well, and described him minutely.
"I know him. He was shot by Lidwell in self-defence, and left as dead.He reappeared again, though, but after Lidwell had fled--to save his ownlife, for there was a plot to murder him. The man Truscott must havegot the whole story from this other man, for neither of them have theslightest idea of my whereabouts. I only arrived here the day beforeyesterday, and to-morrow I am to leave with three others to join amission in the Transvaal."
Her quick Southern nature enabled her to master the whole plot at aglance. Truscott was a bold player at the game of intrigue, shethought; for to throw in her own name in the way he had done was askilful stroke indeed.
"To think that I should be held as a sword over Lidwell," she went on;"I, who would not harm a hair of his head, even if I had, as thatslanderer said, anything to revenge, which I have not--quite thereverse. But show me the portrait. I shall never see _him_ again; nordo I wish to--I have done with such desires. Yes, it is a splendidlikeness; I can look at it calmly now. And, listen! He was as ademigod in that horrible slave settlement. I do not know why he camethere, but many and many a time has he mitigated the sufferings of thosepoor tortured creatures, often at the risk of his life. At last, whenhe was obliged to fly, I helped him to get away. I, all unaided,delayed his murderers many hours, and enabled him to get safely beyondtheir reach. I do not boast; it is only that the recollection is sweetto dwell on. And now listen," interrupting Lilian's fervent utteranceof admiration and gratitude. "His last words to me were these: `You aremade for something better than this kind of life; leave it as soon asyou are able.' Then I hurried him away, for I heard them coming. Heleft that horrible place for ever, and I--well, I only prayed that Imight die. But I lived--lived that I might remember those last words,and obey them to the letter."
Lilian was crying. There was something inexpressibly touching in thenarrative to which she listened; to her something grandly heroic in theway in which this girl--for the ageing effects of her Southernnationality and conventual dress notwithstanding, she was little morethan a girl--had shunned the ease and luxury of evil to devote her wholelife to the fulfilment of the last injunction of one whom she wouldnever see again. This, too, was the daughter of a slave-dealer--rearedamong ruffians--whose father had met a felon's death. And thisprotecting influence which had hallowed another's pathway, was that ofher own lover.
"You have, indeed, obeyed them," she said at length. "And you are happynow, Sister?"
"Perfectly. The Church has been a true mother to me. But--you are ofthe Faith, are you not?"
"I hope so, although there are slight differences between our Churches;slight, but rendered greater than they need be," answered Lilian,gently.
"Ah, I thought you belonged to us. Some day, perhaps, you may bevouchsafed more light--you and he. And now, you say he has anothername--not Lidwell. What is it?"
"His real name is Arthur Claverton. I never heard of the other nameuntil--the time I told you of."
"Whatever his real name is, its owner has always been in my prayers.Now I shall add yours. What is it?"
Lilian told her.
"It is a pretty name, and suits you well. And you--you are worthy ofhim, and will make him happy. God keep you both!"
"Ah, Sister, you have, indeed, come among us as an angel unawares!"exclaimed Lilian. "But a few days sooner, and so many days of frightfulanguish might have been spared us."
"I rejoice that I have been the poor means of restoring yourhappiness--_his_ happiness. Still it may be that even those few days ofsuffering to which you refer, are for some wise purpose--for the good ofyou both. And now tell me something more about him; I can think of himwith a clear conscience, for I have found my vocation. I could evenmeet him again, but it is better not; and by to-morrow at this time, Ishall be far away. And you--you will tell him that I obeyed his lastinjunction, will you not? He will, perhaps, like to know that."
Lilian fervently promised to do this. She would even have suggested ameeting between them; but, apart from the other's vocation, she was inignorance as to how the rule of her order bore upon a matter of thekind, and was shy to urge it. And the two women sat and talked long andearnestly of him whose presence should make the life of one, and whosememory had protected and hallowed that of the other, until the sound ofAnnie Payne's voice in the next room, in converse with a stranger,reminded them that time was flying rather rapidly, for it was nearlyevening.
The stranger was a nun from the convent, who had come to look after theinvalid and to see her safe home--a cheery, bright-mannered Irishwoman,who was profuse in her appreciation of the care they had taken of hercolleague. Then they took their leave.
"You have brought perfect peace to one in this house, at any rate,Sister," said Lilian, as she bade her charge farewell.
"Peace be upon all within it--and especially upon you," murmured theother, tenderly returning her embrace. And Lilian, too happy for words,stood watching them depart homewards. All was clear and bright beforeher now, and how unexpectedly it had all come about!
But surprises were not at an end for that day. While the two ladieswere still talking over their late guest, the tri-weekly newspaper wasleft at the door, and in it a telegraphic slip containing the tidings ofTruscott's death. Just a bare statement of the fact that he had beenshot by the Kafirs, and would be buried that day. No details of anykind.
Lilian was thunderstruck. All the agony which he had inflicted on herthere in that very room; the cruel voice gloating over her fears whilevowing vengeance on him she loved; the brutal words decreeing theirseparation, as fiend-like he mocked at her despair; all rose up beforeher now. Then she shuddered, for was she not perilously near rejoicingover a fellow-creature's death?
"It's very shocking, isn't it?" she said, in awestruck tones.
"Yes, dear, it is. But in war-time, you know, we must expect thesedreadful things to happen. Oh dear--oh dear--but I wish it was all overand we were at peace again. Shall we ever be? And now there's Georgemust needs go racketing off to the front, and--" She stopped in direconfusion, remembering the caus
e of her spouse's speedy departure. ButLilian's arms were around her neck.
"Dear Annie. It was very good and noble of him to go, and I for one owehim a debt which I can never repay."
"Not a bit of it, Lilian," was the cheery reply, though the speaker didhalf turn away her head to conceal a tear. "Don't you think anything ofthe sort. The rascal would have gone anyhow, for he was tired ofstaying quietly at home. You remember what he said the other day whenhe didn't know I was by. He only made a pretext of poor Arthur'spredicament, for you'll see that now he's got him out of it he won'tcome back--no, not for the next two months."
"Indeed!" said a third voice, making them both start as if they had beenshot.
A man stood in the doorway, contemplating them with a satirical grin.
"Goodness gracious!" cried Annie, with a little shriek. "Why, it'sGeorge himself."
"Well, and what if it is?" retorted that worthy, quizzically, as heknocked the ashes out of his pipe against the door-post. "Mayn't afellow walk into his own house, or rather into old Sievers'--infernalold skinflint that he is--hasn't had that chimney put right yet!" Andthus, characteristically, George Payne effected his return to the bosomof his family as if he had never left that desirable ark.
"Oh, George, how I maligned you!" cried his wife, penitently. "I madesure you wouldn't be back for a couple of months at least. Once upthere I thought you'd stay, and go getting yourself assegaied mostlikely."
"Sorry to disappoint you, my dear. But, the fact is, Johnny Kafir'sbeginning to have about enough, and is skulking away in the Perie; whenhe hasn't surrendered already, as is the case up Queenstown way.Brathwaite's men are all talking of coming back soon, and--"
"Pa, where's my Kafir assegai?" cried Harry, bursting into the room.
"Eh, what--where's your--? In the bush, sonny. Never mind, though.You shall have a stack of them soon, but not those that have been shiedat me," replied Payne, passing his hand over the curly head of hisfirst-born. "That's how the rising generation welcomes its paternalancestor returning from the wars--asks for scalps the first thing.Well, Miss Lilian," he continued, in his bantering way, "I told you tokeep your spirits up, and that all would come right, didn't I; and itabout has. Come along, Annie; we'll leave her to make it lively forthat chap who sends me on to prepare the way before him, and thendoesn't give me half time to do it." Lilian followed his glance. A manwas dismounting at the gate, in hot haste. She needed no second glanceto assure her of his identity.
The Fire Trumpet: A Romance of the Cape Frontier Page 50
