Part 35 (1/2)
”You will be caught, missie. There is a sentry at the back of the waggon-house, and two in front. But,” he added, ”perhaps we might get near. I will go out and look at the night.”
Presently he returned and said that a ”small rain” had come on, and the clouds covered up the stars so that it was very dark.
”Well, let us go at once,” said Jess.
”Missie, you had better not go,” answered the Hottentot. ”You will get wet, and the Boers will catch you. Better let me go. I can creep about like a snake, and if the Boers catch me it won't matter.”
”You must come too, but I am going. I must find out.”
Then the Hottentot shrugged his shoulders and yielded, and, having extinguished the candle, silently as ghosts they crept out into the night.
CHAPTER x.x.xII
HE SHALL DIE
The night was still and very dark. A soft cold rain, such as often falls in the Wakkerstroom and New Scotland districts of the Transvaal, and which more resembles a true north country mist than anything else, was drizzling gently but persistently. This condition of affairs was as favourable as possible to their enterprise, and under cover of it the Hottentot and the white girl crept far down the hill to within twelve or fourteen paces of the back of the waggon-house. Then Jantje, who was leading, suddenly put back his hand and checked her, and at that moment Jess caught the sound of a sentry's footsteps as he tramped leisurely up and down. For a couple of minutes or so they stopped thus, not knowing what to do, when suddenly a man came round the corner of the building holding a lantern in his hand. On seeing the lantern Jess's first impulse was to fly, but Jantje by a motion made her understand that she was to stop still. The man with the lantern advanced towards the other man, holding the light above his head, and looking dim and gigantic in the mist and rain. Presently he turned his face, and Jess saw that it was Frank Muller himself. He stood thus for a moment waiting till the sentry was near to him.
”You can go to your supper,” he said. ”Come back in half an hour. I will be responsible for the prisoners till then.”
The man growled out an answer something about the rain, and then departed round the end of the building, followed by Muller.
”Now then, come on,” whispered Jantje; ”there is a hole in the store-room wall, and you may be able to speak to Missie Bessie.”
Jess did not require a second invitation, but slipped up to the wall in five seconds. Pa.s.sing her hand over the stone-work she found the air-hole, which she remembered well, for they used to play bo-peep there as children, and was about to whisper through it, when suddenly the door at the other end opened, and Frank Muller entered, bearing the lantern in his hand. For a moment he stood on the threshold, opening the slide of the lantern in order to increase the light. His hat was off, and he wore a cape of dark cloth thrown over his shoulders, which seemed to add to his great breadth. Indeed the thought flashed through the mind of Jess as she looked at him through the hole, and saw the light strike upon his face and form, glinting down his golden beard, that he was the most magnificent specimen of humanity whom she had ever seen. In another instant he had turned the lantern round and revealed her dear sister Bessie to her gaze. Bessie lay upon one of the half-empty sacks of mealies, apparently half asleep, for she opened her wide blue eyes and looked round apprehensively like one suddenly awakened. Her golden curls were in disorder and falling over her fair forehead, and her face was very pale and troubled, and marked beneath the eyes with deep blue lines. Catching sight of her visitor she rose hurriedly and retreated as far from him as the pile of sacks and potatoes would allow.
”What is it?” she asked in a low voice. ”I gave you my answer. Why do you come to torment me again?”
He placed the lantern upon an upright sack of mealies, and carefully balanced it before he answered. Jess could see that he was taking time to consider.
”Let us recapitulate,” he said at length, in his full rich voice. ”The position is this. I gave you this morning the choice between consenting to marry me to-morrow and seeing your old uncle and benefactor shot.
Further, I a.s.sured you that if you would not consent to marry me your uncle should be shot, and that I would then make you mine, dispensing with the ceremony of marriage. Is that not so?”
Bessie made no answer, and he continued, his eyes fixed upon her face, and thoughtfully stroking his beard.
”Silence gives consent. I will go on. Before a man can be shot according to law he must be tried and condemned according to law. Your uncle has been tried and has been condemned.”
”I heard it all, cruel murderer that you are,” said Bessie, lifting her head for the first time.
”So! I thought you would, through the crack. That is why I had you put into this place; it would not have looked well to bring you before the court;” and he took the light and examined the crevice. ”This wall is badly built,” he went on in a careless tone; ”look, there is another s.p.a.ce there at the back;” and he actually came up to it and held the lantern close to the airhole in such fas.h.i.+on that its light shone through into Jess's eyes and nearly blinded her. She shut them quickly so that the gleam reflected from them should not betray her, then held her breath and remained still as the dead. In another second Muller took away the light and replaced it on the mealie bag.
”So you say you saw it all. Well, it must have shown you that I was in earnest. The old man took it well, did he not? He is a brave man, and I respect him. I fancy that he will not move a muscle at the last. That comes of English blood, you see. It is the best in the world, and I am proud to have it in my veins.”
”Cannot you stop torturing me, and say what you have to say?” asked Bessie.
”I had no wish to torture you, but if you like I will come to the point. It is this. Will you now consent to marry me to-morrow morning at sun-up, or am I to be forced to carry the sentence on your old uncle into effect?”
”I will not. I will not. I hate you and defy you.”
Muller looked at her coldly, and then drew his pocket-book from his pocket and extracted from it the death-warrant and a pencil.