Part 18 (1/2)
They rode on with heads bent forward, for a fierce gust drove the rain, which had now increased to a deluging shower, right into their faces.
”Look at that!” exclaimed Ethel, in a terrified voice, as a vivid flash played around them, causing the horses to start and swerve. It was followed by a deep roll of thunder--long, loud, and startlingly near.
”Who'd have thought it?” said her companion. ”It may be just a pa.s.sing flash or so, and we shall ride through it in a minute.” He spoke cheerfully; nevertheless, there was anxiety in the quick, half-furtive glance which he cast upwards and around.
”Do you think so? It may not be much, after all; and I'm an awful coward,” she answered, trying to laugh; but her voice shook with apprehension, and her face was pale in the vivid gleam which fell around them, and faded, leaving the gathering gloom almost pitchy from contrast. ”Do let's go back,” she added.
”Too late. It would take almost as long to get back to Van Rooyen's, as to reach home. Besides, we should get into the thick of it--it's all behind us.”
They rode on. The path lay along a high ridge, and the surrounding _veldt_ looked indescribably desolate as a furious blast tore and howled over the wild waste, driving the rain into their eyes. But suddenly wind and rain alike ceased; and lo! a great stream of jagged fire shot down upon the road in front, accompanied by a terrific crash--a crash as though the earth had yawned asunder and they were floating in a sea of flame. The horses, affrighted by the appalling sight and the strong smell of burning which was plainly perceptible, snorted and plunged, and then stood still, trembling in every limb.
”We had better leave the road,” said Claverton. ”We shall be safe enough down in the kloof; though here it _is_ a trifle nasty.”
”Shall I dismount?” she asked.
”No; sit still and follow me. Can you steer your horse all right, or would you rather I led him?”
”Oh, no; I can manage.”
They went down and down, deeper and deeper through the long, wet gra.s.s and dripping bushes; and now and again a flash would light up the far depths of the great, dark kloof with a blue gleam, and the thunder roared and reverberated among the rocks and krantzes beyond. Before they had gone far, Claverton dismounted and kept a firm hand on his companion's bridle, for the horse slipped and stumbled over the wet stones on the steep side of the kloof. Ethel did not speak, but her lips would convulsively tighten with fear as each vivid lightning-flash played around them, with its terrific accompaniment. She was horribly afraid of thunderstorms, even when safe at home, but to be benighted thus in the open _veldt_, in the midst of such a one as this, was simply appalling.
”At any rate we are safe enough here, though it is infamously wet,” said her escort, rea.s.suringly; ”and--by George, we are in luck's way--there's a house!”
A roof became apparent at the bottom of the ravine, and in a few minutes they had reached it. But disappointment was in store, for the welcome haven of refuge turned out to be an old disused shanty, formerly run up for the accommodation of some road party, or possibly had served as an out-station for those in charge of grazing stock. Nevertheless, though a tumble-down and sorry-looking tenement, yet it would afford a tolerably substantial shelter from the drenching fury of the storm.
Claverton lifted his companion from her saddle, and pus.h.i.+ng open the mouldering door, which creaked with an unearthly noise on its rusty hinges, they stood inside.
”Not exactly the marble halls of the poet's dream--deuced cold they must have been at times--but it's wet outside and dry in here, which makes all the difference,” he remarked, as he struck a match and surveyed the interior of the sorry apartment. The dilapidated thatch hung in cobwebbed festoons, throwing out ghostly, waving shadows in the flickering light; and a c.o.c.kroach or two, alarmed by this sudden intrusion, scurried along the worm-eaten beams. ”Wait half a second,”
he went on, ”while I just go and hitch up the horses, and then we'll proceed to make ourselves as comfortable as circ.u.mstances will allow.”
”Oh, Arthur, don't leave me alone, even for a moment! I am so frightened!” she exclaimed, clinging to his arm. The name slipped out in her terror, but she was quite unhinged, and noticed it not.
”Frightened? You foolish child,” he answered, rea.s.suringly; ”there's nothing to be afraid of now--Look. We can afford to laugh at the storm here, and will be as snug as anything directly.”
”But it's so dark, and--”
”Dark. Well, yes; unfortunately the last tenant forgot to leave any candles for our benefit, which was uncivil of him, to say the least of it. However, 'the Heaven above' is kindly doing its best to supply the deficiency, and we'll meet it half-way by starting a famous blaze.”
So saying, he gathered together some old bits of board which lay about, and, chipping them into small fragments, built up a fire well in the middle of the room--for the fireplace was choked up with dust and fallen bricks--and, lighting it, the flames darted up, crackling and sputtering, and diffusing a genial and revivifying warmth.
”There. The smoke will go out through the thatch, and at any rate it won't be worse than in a Kafir hut. You're not very wet, are you? No, I thought my old poncho hadn't lost its cunning. And now you won't be afraid to stay by yourself a minute while I look after the horses. It's dark as pitch outside, and the brutes will be wandering Heaven knows where if I don't make them fast at once.”
He went out, and leading the horses round to the back of the house proceeded to secure them in a sheltered place. While thus engaged a low scream, emanating from the room he had just quitted, fell on his ear.
Left alone, Ethel drew the cloak tighter round her, and crouched over the bright, dancing flames; but in spite of their cheery glow she s.h.i.+vered. How long would it be before he came back? He had hardly been gone a minute, and it seemed an age. Then a flash and a loud thunderpeal made her start, and her face blanched, and she hid it in the ample cloak, and cowered down in mortal dread. How long would he be?
Supposing the horses had strayed, and he had gone after them, and had lost his way, and should be unable to find the hut again. Oh, horror of horrors! if she were to be left alone there all night, alone, in the silence of that deserted place--a silence only broken by an occasional and mysterious rustle or creaking--and at the very thought of it her brain reeled and sickened, and the m.u.f.fled patter of the rain upon the thatch sounded like the dull roar of many waters, and--Oh, Heavens! what was that?
For a growl, as of some wild beast, fell upon her terrified ears. She dared not raise her head, and again that grisly sound arose--long, low, and menacing.
Opposite to where she sat was a doorway leading into another compartment of the hovel. This was nearly concealed when the door by which they had entered stood open, being behind it; but now that the entrance was shut the gap yawned, dark and shadowy. And as Ethel glanced towards it, her gaze fell upon two glaring eyes in the blackness beyond. Was she dreaming? No, there they were--two scintillating green stars--their awful gaze fixed upon her with a terrible stare. The blood curdled in her veins; she tried to scream, but her tongue refused to fulfil its office; her limbs shook, and had she been standing she would have fallen to the earth p.r.o.ne as a log. And still that piercing, baleful stare shone through the blackness--and--G.o.d!--was she going mad? Her heart beat as if it would burst; every second was a lifetime; every pulsation of her throbbing temples seemed like the blow of a sledge-hammer, and her glance was fixed upon those terrible orbs with basilisk fascination.