Part 64 (1/2)

”Pardon me,” he said, with some acerbity. ”Did I understand you to say that you could not start upon this service to-morrow?”

”Not so fast, my dear sir; I didn't say I couldn't, I said I wouldn't.

A vastly different thing,” said the other, with a pleasant laugh.

”But, Mr--Mr Claverton, I would really advise you not to throw up this appointment. I a.s.sure you that I could name at least a dozen men who would jump at the chance.”

”In that case it might be as well to give them the opportunity of practising their leaping powers,” was the cool, smiling reply, and he made a movement as if to rise.

The official was sorely perplexed. To let Claverton go would entail no end of correspondence and bother before he could fix upon another man altogether fit for the post; and, what with all the disturbance and worry of the past few days, he had more than enough on his hands already, as the heap of letters and telegrams lying before him all demanding ”immediate” attention, and the lateness of the hour for him to be in his office, abundantly testified.

”How soon will you be ready, then?” he said at last, wearily pus.h.i.+ng back his chair.

”On Monday morning--an hour before daylight.”

”Very well, then, that's settled. I suppose a day won't make any great difference after all. And you might turn the time to account by picking up three or four likely-looking fellows here. If you want any further information you'll find me here all to-morrow. No rest for us public servants, not even on Sunday, since these confounded wars; I feel quite ashamed to look a parson in the face now--ha, ha, ha! Good-night!” and chuckling in a dispirited manner over his feeble jest, the official shook hands with Claverton and returned to grind away at his vouchers, and requisitions, and reports until midnight. And our new commandant of levies sallied forth, a flash of satirical mirth lurking in his eyes over his interlocutor's parting suggestion. So likely that, on the last day he would spend with Lilian, he was going to bother himself recruiting a lot of dirty n.i.g.g.e.rs among the grog-shops of Bog-na-fin [the popular name for a low quarter of Grahamstown].

But his fame must have spread very rapidly, for early the next morning before he was half-dressed, his faithful henchman came to tell him that a man was asking for him in the back-yard. ”What does he look like, Sam?”

”An ugly Hottentot, Inkos. Big and strong, though.”

”All right, tell him to wait. And, Sam!”

”Inkos?”

”I shall take you with me to the front. So you'll be able to try your hand at shooting Amaxosa.”

Sam jumped with delight at this. He could hardly believe his ears. The last time, he had begged and prayed to be allowed to go; but then his master had gone in the capacity of a private trooper, and couldn't be enc.u.mbered with a servant. Now it was different, and subsequently Sam might be heard imparting his good news over the wall to the Hottentot groom belonging to the neighbouring house, winding up with his cherished formula--”Amaxosa n.i.g.g.a no good.”

In a few minutes Claverton went out to interview his intending recruit, as he supposed the visitor to be, and an almost imperceptible shade of annoyance came over his face as he saw before him the man whose sudden appearance yesterday had so sorely troubled Lilian during their ride.

”Ghosts don't talk!” said he to himself, sardonically and with meaning, ”or this might be one.”

”Good mornin', Baas?” said the new arrival, with his eyes keenly fixed on the other's face.

”Morning,” replied Claverton, shortly. ”What d'you want with me?”

”I want to join your levies, Baas.”

”Oh, do you? What's your name?”

”Vargas Smith, Baas,” replied the fellow, who spoke English fluently, narrowly watching the effect of his words. But the said effect was simply nil.

”Queer name that. Where d'you come from?”

”I've bin up Zanzibar way--three, four, five years ago--up the river,”

answered the fellow, in a tone full of significance, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the supposed direction of that locality. Then sinking his voice to a whisper: ”Don't you know me, Baas?”

”Never saw you before in my life,” replied Claverton, looking him up and down with a cold stare of astonishment.