And they seemed justified6 in doing so. Already more than one of the burgher forces had withdrawn7 from the Transkei en route for home. The country was quiet again, it was reported; luckily the disturbance8 had been kept beyond the border, or the inter-Colonial tribes would have been up in a blaze. But there were always some uncomfortable objectors who liked to point out that the Paramount9 Chief had not been captured, that the rising was only scotched10, not killed, and that then we should see.
The village was the virtual headquarters of the F.A.M. Police—and in the Artillery11 barracks crowning an eminence12, no less than in the two troops occupying a permanent camp just outside, a chronic13 state of readiness and activity prevailed. A scheme of defence too had been formed in case of attack—an event of the highest improbability, for even if the rising were to spread, the Kafirs would refrain from attacking a strongly defended place, and reserve their energies for the destruction of outlying farms and the ambush14 and massacre15 of small bodies of travelling whites.
Dick Selmes was growing rather impatient. If he could bear no further part in the war—and the doctor had again seriously warned him not to take his wound too lightly—he saw no reason why he should not seek out Hazel Brandon. His feelings had undergone no diminution16, no deadening by reason of change and excitement and peril17. The girl’s image was bright and clear in his mind, and the recollection of her engaging ways and sweet and sunny disposition18 was undimmed. He was not likely to find another like her in one lifetime.
He had been lunching with the Commandant and some of the Police officers. The former’s hospitable19 and unpretentious bungalow20 was always open house—a hospitality that our friend Dick was fond of availing himself of, for after the time he had spent with the Police, and the hard knocks he had shared with them, he felt as one of themselves; and but for that other attraction would have been in no hurry to bid farewell to a lot of such thundering good fellows, as he defined them on every occasion. Yet now, as he strolled along the wide dusty road, he felt hipped21.
“Why, if it isn’t Mr Selmes!”
Dick, who was in a brown study, started at the voice—a feminine voice—then stared. He saw before him the mother of the small boy he had jumped into the sea to save—at some risk to his own life; and he had forgotten her very existence, and the cordial hopes she had expressed that he would one day see his way to paying them a visit. Now she was standing22 there with a smile and an outstretched hand, the same small boy hanging on to her by the other.
“How do you do, Mrs Waybridge,” said Dick, heartily23. “Why, here’s Jacky. Well, young ’un, and how’s yourself?”
“And Jacky wouldn’t have been here but for you,” rejoined the other, with feeling. “And—”
Dick interrupted.
“Now, Mrs Waybridge, I think we agreed that that subject was to be treated as—er—a somewhat stale one,” he said deprecatorily.
“I’m sure I never agreed to anything of the sort,” she laughed. “But who would have thought of finding you here in Komgha. Why—what’s the matter with your arm?” becoming alive to the fact that it was in a sling24. “You haven’t been in the war, have you?”
“Haven’t I? Had a most ripping time of it too. By Jingo, if it hadn’t been for this confounded scratch, I’d have been in it still. But Blunt turned so solemn over it and ordered me out.”
“Who?”
“Blunt, the F.A.M.P. surgeon.”
“And so you’ve come back wounded. But it’s not serious?”
“No, indeed. It’s a mere25 scratch. But, what brings you here, Mrs Waybridge, it’s my turn to ask?”
“Why, we live close here; our farm is out towards the Kabousie, only a few miles, and you’ve got to come and stay with us—now—to-day. Where are you staying here?”
“Nominally at Pagel’s, but it’s abominably26 crowded. Practically I subsist27 at the Commandant’s, or Chambers’, or at some other good chap’s in the Police. But I’m not stopping on much longer.”
“No, you’re not, for you’re going back with me this afternoon.”
Dick, in his heart of hearts, thought this rather a bore, and began to wonder what excuse he could make. It interfered28 with his plans. The other, reading his thoughts, smiled to herself. She had reason to know what he did not, that there was not the smallest chance of her invite being declined.
“Where is Mr Greenoak now?” she went on, not giving him time to utter the excuse he was trying to invent.
“Nobody knows, beyond that he’s bound on some mysterious mission, its object being to prevent the harmful unnecessary Gaika from taking the warpath.”
“Then I hope he’ll succeed. We have far too many of them as next-door neighbours. Well, we’ll get back to Pagel’s and have tea, and then it’ll be time to inspan. You haven’t got much luggage to pack up, I suppose?”
Dick was amused at the way in which she was taking possession of him as a matter of course. Personally she was a tallish, fair-haired woman of about five and thirty, rather good-looking, and with a pleasing voice. It would be great fun to accept that invitation, if only that Harley Greenoak would come back to find his bird flown. The said Greenoak had come to the conclusion that his charge could not get into much mischief29 in a crowded township, and with an arm in a sling, wherefore he had left him for a few days with an easy mind.
Even as Dick had said, the hotel—whither all this time they had been wending—was crowded. The stoep and the bar department were full of men and tobacco smoke, and battles were being fought over again, and the war brought to a sudden and satisfactory termination—according to more than one orator30, who might or might not have taken any part in it. In the stuffy31 little dining-room they managed to find a quiet corner.
“How do you do, Mr Selmes?”
A red-hot needle dropped down the back of Dick’s neck might have produced a precisely32 similar effect to that evolved by this simple and exceedingly conventional query33. He started violently in his chair, knocked both knees hard against the table, causing every article of crockery thereon to dance and rattle34, and other people using it to scowl35 or laugh, according to mood. Then, as he extricated36 himself, he wondered if he were drunk or dreaming, for he stood holding the hand of—and looking down into the exquisitely37 winning face of Hazel Brandon.
The said face was demureness38 itself, but the sparkle of repressed mirth in the witching eyes told its own tale. Then, conscious that the gaze of the room was on him—on them—Dick pulled himself together.
“You here?” he gasped39, as he gave her his chair—in the incoherence of mind born of the circumstances, overlooking the fact that another vacant one next to it, and which he now took, had been turned down as a sign of “engaged.” “Er—do you know Mrs Waybridge?”
“Yes, we know each other,” answered the latter for her. “You know”—to Hazel—“I’ve been trying to persuade Mr Selmes to come out and stay with us, now this afternoon, but he, for his part, has been trying to find some excuse. Don’t deny it, Mr Selmes”—with a laugh.
Dick felt cornered. Hazel at Komgha! There was no end to the surprises in this land of surprises. Likely he was going somewhere else just as he had discovered her presence here! What times they would contrive40 to have!
“Well—er—Mrs Waybridge, I thought it might be more convenient—er—a little later on,” he began lamely41. “When my damaged limb is quite all right,” he added, as if a bright idea had struck him.
“Well, it’s our loss, I suppose, Mr Selmes,” she answered. “But mind you come as soon as you can.”
Dick promised—even enthusiastically. Then he turned to Hazel.
“Where are you staying here? Are your people with you?”
“No. But I’m not staying here at all. I’m only in for the day. I’m staying with Mrs Waybridge,” she answered in an even, matter-of-fact tone.
Heavens, what was this? Dick felt as if he had kicked himself out of paradise, locked the door behind him and thrown away the key with his own hand. How could he so much as have guessed that he had been doing all he knew to forego another stay under the same roof with Hazel? He stared at his plate—silently, blankly.
“Well, it’s about time we thought of inspanning,” said Mrs Waybridge. “Now, Mr Selmes. It isn’t too late to change your mind. What do you say?”
Dick’s face cleared. Here was a broad path out. He was unaware42, too, of the pressures of the foot under the table exchanged by the two ladies as the richness of the joke unfolded itself. He only knew, with inexpressible relief, that the situation was saved.
“Then I think I will change it,” he answered, striving to quell43 the eagerness in his tone. “Besides, it’ll be such a joke on good old Greenoak when he gets back, to find I’ve flown.”
“Where is Mr Greenoak now?” asked Hazel. “Isn’t he here?”
“No. He’s away on some secret service.”
“Something to help other people, I suppose,” rejoined the girl. “He lives for that.”
There was just a little dimming of Dick Selmes’ golden vista44. Was Hazel going to recommence booming Greenoak? She had never seemed to tire of that at Haakdoornfontein. Then he felt thoroughly45 ashamed of himself.
“I should think he did live for that,” declared Dick, heartily. “He saved my life twice since we crossed the Kei. Do you know, I was twice captured by the Kafirs, and the rum part of it was, it came off before the actual war began; but they’d have done for me all the same, as sure as I sit here—and that in a precious unpleasant manner—if it hadn’t been for Greenoak. But it’s something of a yarn46, and must keep till there’s time to tell it. Shall I go and see after your inspanning, Mrs Waybridge?”
“No. Go and see after your own kit47, that’ll save time. Only, don’t make it bigger than you can help, because the cart isn’t a Cobb and Co. coach.”
“Will a flannel48 shirt and a cartridge49 shell be overweight?” said Dick, slily.
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1
levies
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| （部队）征兵( levy的名词复数 )； 募捐； 被征募的军队 | |
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2
rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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3
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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4
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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ridiculed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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7
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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8
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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9
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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10
scotched
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| v.阻止( scotch的过去式和过去分词 )；制止（车轮）转动；弄伤；镇压 | |
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11
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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13
chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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14
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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15
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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16
diminution
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| n.减少；变小 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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18
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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19
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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20
bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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hipped
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| adj.着迷的，忧郁的 | |
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22
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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23
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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24
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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25
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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27
subsist
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| vi.生存，存在，供养 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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29
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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30
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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31
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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32
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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33
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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34
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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35
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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36
extricated
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| v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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38
demureness
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| n.demure（拘谨的，端庄的）的变形 | |
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39
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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40
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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41
lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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42
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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43
quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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44
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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45
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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46
yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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47
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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48
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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49
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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