Without doubt Wilfred's plan--and a harum-scarum plan it was--had been to decoy him into an ambush5 of police, on the pretence6 of selling him the so-called State papers, and when he had irretrievably betrayed himself, to have had him arrested as a spy. Thanks only to his skill in penetrating7 the disguise of his visitor, Van Zwieten had evaded8 this peril9; but he had been in greater danger than even Wilfred knew.
The papers in the iron box were sufficient to prove him a spy ten times over. Had Wilfred only been astute10 enough to have procured11 a search warrant on the evidence of Mazaroff, and with the assistance of the police to have raided the premises12 of the so-called Mr. Jones, these papers would have been discovered, and Mr. van Zwieten's little games put an end to for the time being.
But Wilfred had let the golden moment go by, and the Dutchman was safe from his worst enemy--that is from the one who wished him most harm, and who knew most to his disadvantage.
There was no doubt that Wilfred was now powerless to move against him. By skillfully suggesting that Harold had committed the murder,--which was untrue--and producing the revolver inscribed13 with Harold's name, which had been found near the scene of the murder,--which was true--Van Zwieten had effectually stopped the mouth of Mr. Wilfred Burton. If that young man now denounced him to the authorities he would do so at the risk of having his brother arrested. And in the face of such evidence it might be that Harold would be found guilty. In any case he would be prevented from sailing for South Africa. But Van Zwieten, while looking after himself, had no wish that things should go thus far. He was most anxious that Captain Burton should go to the front, for if chance did not aid him, he had quite determined14 to have him specially15 shot in action.
At present things were going as he wished. Wilfred was coerced16 into silence, he himself was safe, and Harold was about to go to his death in Natal17. There remained only Brenda to deal with, and with her Mr. van Zwieten hoped to come to an understanding very shortly now.
The rest of the night he spent in burning such papers as he did not require and in packing the remainder in the iron box. It was of no great size this box, and one man could carry it away with ease. Van Zwieten locked it, and then stowed it away on the top of the tall press, in a hollow formed by the ornamentation of the crest19. Into this the precious box just fitted; and thus carelessly deposited, he took it to be far safer than any more elaborate attempt at concealment21 could make it. A thief would assuredly make for the safe first and foremost, so would the police, while neither would think of looking on the top of the press. Not that Van Zwieten expected either thieves or police, for that matter; but it was his habit to place the box there, and what had happened in no way caused him to depart from his usual custom.
Having thus finished his work, he went to bed and slept for a few hours. And as he closed his eyes his thoughts were altogether pleasant.
"I shall go down to Southampton to-morrow," they ran, "and see Burton off for the front. I sha'n't exactly relish22 being witness of his very tender leave-taking with Brenda but it will be some satisfaction to know it's for the last time. She won't see him again. We'll be married at once and I'll follow close on his heels. If he only knew! If she only knew! But that is what shall be. I, Van Zwieten, have spoken. Then, once in the British camp, I can both serve these brave little Republics and make sure that Captain Harold Burton is made short work of. That will be very easily done. And then when all is over, and these British hogs23 are driven into the sea, I'll come and fetch my little wife, and there, amid the glorious expanse of the veldt, we shall live together happily ever after." A beautiful little castle of cards truly, but one which, had he only known, was destined24 to be very much knocked about by Fate, over which not even he, Van Zwieten, had control.
Next morning he was up betimes, and handing the key of his rooms to Mrs. Hicks with strict injunctions to admit no one, he set off for Waterloo Station. He knew that he could trust his little landlady25, and he judged it wiser to do so than to lock up and take the key in his pocket, for of that even she might have been suspicious.
On his way to the terminus he again relapsed into a gentle and wholly self-congratulatory reverie; and with a religious zeal26 worthy27 of a follower28 of Oom Paul he fished from the deep recesses29 of his memory a text bearing on the destruction of the unrighteous--to wit, in this instance, Messieurs Wilfred and Harold Burton.
The ancient town of Southampton was gay with flags, crowded with people, and bubbling over with excitement and bustle30. Through the streets marched the troops in khaki, with resolute31 faces and swinging tread, while those whose rights they were going to defend cheered them, poured blessings32 on them, and sought to enliven them with frequent snatches of patriotic33 song. Not since the days of the Crimea--a dim memory even to the older generation--had there been such excitement. And the great transport lay there--a floating barracks--ready and impatient to carry these brave fellows overseas to vindicate34 the name of Britain as a civilizing35 and protective power. Oom Paul had been given rope enough; now he was going to hang himself, or be hanged, as he assuredly deserved to be.
Maybe Van Zwieten thought otherwise. He surveyed the excited throng36 with his usual bland37 smile, and pushed his way through their midst down to the quay38. Knowing, as no one else did, the true power of the Republics, he smiled grimly as he thought how soon all this joy would be turned into mourning. But what Mr. van Zwieten did not know--what he could not realize--was that the more terrible the danger threatening a Britisher the more does he set his back to the wall, and set his teeth to meet it and to conquer.
In the bright sunlight the troops embarked39, speeches were made, healths were drunk, and many a hand gripped hand. On board the transport the officers were busy looking after their men and superintending the horses being taken on board. Brenda, quietly dressed, and doing her best to keep up her spirits, was leaning on the arm of her father, and longing40 for a few last words with Harold. But Captain Burton--a fine, soldierly figure in his khaki uniform--was on duty, and could not be spared for the moment.
Much as Mr. Scarse disliked the war and reprobated the causes which had led to it, he had come down with Brenda to see the last of Harold; but in the face of all this he could not but lament41 inwardly that the good offices of the peace party had not prevailed. This stir and military activity was surely out of all proportion to the business in hand--the subjugation42 of a mere43 handful of farmers! But Mr. Scarse forgot that wasps44 are not so easily crushed--that the larger the fist that tries to crush them the greater the chance of its being stung. While thus meditating45 on the iniquity46 of his country, he felt his daughter start, and when he looked at her he saw that she was white and trembling.
"What is it, Brenda?" he asked nervously47, for he had not been the same man since his interview with the Dutchman.
"I have seen Mr. van Zwieten," she replied faintly. "He is yonder in the crowd. He smiled in that horrible way of his when he caught my eye."
"Never mind, Brenda. Van Zwieten can do no harm now; and shortly we shall be rid of him altogether. He is going out to the Cape1."
"To Pretoria, you mean."
"No, I mean to the Cape," returned her father. "Rather to my surprise, I hear he has given up his appointment in the Transvaal, and has thrown in his lot with this misguided country. He goes with Lord Methuen as the correspondent of The Morning Planet--to report the massacre48 of his unfortunate countrymen, I suppose."
"I don't believe he is on our side," Brenda said vehemently49. "At heart he is a traitor50, and has been living in London spying for the benefit of the Boers--so, at least, Wilfred tells me."
"Wilfred is an excitable boy. Can he prove this wild charge?"
"Not now; but he intends to do so later."
"He never will. Believe me, I don't like Van Zwieten, and I regret very much that I ever made a friend of him, but I don't think he is a spy."
"I'm sure he is!"
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I hate him," replied Brenda, with true feminine logic51. "And if he is going to the front, I'll tell Harold to keep a sharp eye on him."
"It might be quite as well, dear," replied her father, "forewarned is forearmed; and when he learns the truth about you, it is quite possible he might attempt some plot against Harold."
"I'm not afraid. Harold can protect himself even against such a scoundrel as Van Zwieten. Here is Harold, father. How splendid he looks!"
Brenda might well be excused for her enthusiasm. Captain Harold Burton did make a most striking and soldierly figure in his close-fitting khaki uniform. He was trim and natty52 in his dress, bright and ardent53, and full of enthusiasm for the work before him. Brenda would have had him a trifle more subdued54 since he was about to leave her; but she had no cause to complain when he said good-bye. He felt their parting as much as she did, even though as a man and a soldier he was more able to conceal20 his emotions.
"Come down to my cabin, Brenda," he said, taking her arm, "I have got ten minutes to spare. We start in half an hour."
"I won't come," Mr. Scarse said, waving his hand. "Take her down, Harold, and get it over."
The two went below amongst the busy throng of stewards55 who were darting56 about getting the cabins in order. Into one on the starboard side Captain Burton led his wife. He shared it with a brother officer, who was at that moment on duty. Harold closed the door. The girl was crying bitterly now. He took her in his arms.
"Don't cry, dear little wife," he said tenderly. "Please God, I'll come back to you safe and sound."
"Oh, Harold, you will, I know you will!" she said earnestly. "Nothing will happen to you. I dreamed it did, Harold, and dreams always go by contraries, you know. Dearest, if only I were coming with you, I wouldn't mind."
"Dear Brenda, it is better as it is; besides, I should have had to leave you at Cape Town. You could not have come to the front. No, dear, you stay with your father, and pray for a speedy end to the war. Remember you are my wife now, Brenda, so I have no fear of any harm coming to you through that scoundrel Van Zwieten."
"He is here, Harold. I saw him among the crowd. I have no fear for you, dear, there at the front; but--well, I am afraid of Van Zwieten's treachery."
"But he is in England, dearest; he can't hurt me out there."
"He is leaving for the Cape almost immediately. Father told me so."
"Well, then," laughed Harold to comfort her, "if I see him in the ranks of the enemy I'll shoot him before he can take sight at me. Will that do?"
"Harold, he won't be in the ranks of the enemy."
"Why not? The fellow is a Boer--or to all intents and purposes will be when he takes up his Transvaal appointment."
"That's just it. He has given up the appointment and is going out as correspondent to The Morning Planet."
Captain Burton wrinkled his forehead. "I don't like this sudden conversion," he said decisively. "Wilfred believes the fellow is a spy."
"And so do I, dearest--from the bottom of my heart."
"Well, if he's going to hang about our camps for the spy business I'll make short work of him."
"Be careful, Harold--oh, be careful. He is a dangerous man."
"I shall know how to manage him out there. Wilfred is coming out, you know, in a week or so, and I'll get him to tell me all he knows about Van Zwieten. If he is a spy, we'll watch him and have him slung57 up. I'll keep my eyes open, Brenda. And if he tries on any games before he leaves England, just you see Lady Jenny."
"What can she do?"
"A great deal. She wouldn't tell me how she meant to manage him, but she told me she would bring him to his knees. That was why I determined to marry you before I left. Now that you are my wife, Lady Jenny will look after you. You must promise me, dear, that you'll go at once to her if he should cause you the least uneasiness."
"I promise, dearest, for your sake. Oh, Harold, how I wish I was going!"
"Yes, dear, I know you do. But you are a soldier's wife now, and they do their work at home. I have made my will leaving all I have to you, Brenda and if I don't come back"--his strong voice trembled--"you will have enough to live on. At all events, your father has the will."
"Harold! Harold!" she cried, weeping on his breast, for this parting was very bitter to her, "how can I bear it, darling? Dearest, be careful of your dear life for my sake--for me, your wife."
"Hush58, dear, hush, I am in the hands of God." He pressed her closely to him and kissed her in silence. Then he looked upward and said a silent fervent59 prayer. They clung to each other with aching hearts, too deeply moved, too sorrowful for words. Then the tramping of feet overhead, the sound of cheers, the shrill60 voice of the bo'sun's whistle, made them start up. "Brenda," whispered Harold, pressing her again to his heart, "good-bye, my own dearest."
"Oh, Harold! Harold! Good-bye, darling! God bless you and bring you back to me."
On deck he led her to her father who was standing18 by the gangway, and placed her in his arms. "Take care of her, sir," he said in a low voice, then hurried away at the call of duty.
Father and daughter descended61 the gangway to the wharf62. She stood as in a dream, with streaming eyes, among other women, and looked at the great ship. The shouts of the crowd, the glitter of the sunshine, the many-colored bunting, seemed like a cruel mockery to her aching heart. Her Harold was gone from her--and God knew when he would return. And everywhere the women wept and strained and ached at parting with their dear ones.
The transport was like a hive at swarming-time. The soldiers were hanging over the bulwarks63 and clinging to the rigging. Hats and handkerchiefs waved, women wept and men cheered. Then amidst all the noise and movement the blades of the screw began slowly to churn the water. As the seething64 white foam65 swirled66 astern, the band struck up "Auld67 Lang Syne," and the great ship swung majestically68 into mid-stream, her engines throbbing69, and black smoke pouring through her funnels70 from the newly stoked furnaces below. Brenda, for weeping, could hardly see the grey monster gliding71 over the glittering waters; nor, strain as she would, could she make out her Harold's dear face amongst those hundreds of faces turned shoreward. The band changed the tune72:
"I'm leaving thee in sorrow, Annie,
I'm leaving thee in tears."
"My God!" exclaimed Brenda, almost hysterical73 now as she clutched her father's arm.
"Miss Scarse," said a voice at her elbow.
Brenda looked up with a tear-stained face, and a look of horror came into her eyes as she saw Van Zwieten's hateful, calm face. "You! you! Ah, Harold!"
"Go away, sir, go away," said Mr. Scarse, curtly74. Then he began to push through the crowd with Brenda clinging to his arm.
"I must speak to Miss Scarse," insisted the Dutchman, following.
The old man turned on him like a wolf. "There is no Miss Scarse," he said firmly. "My daughter is now Mrs. Harold Burton."
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1
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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8
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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14
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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16
coerced
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| v.迫使做( coerce的过去式和过去分词 )；强迫；（以武力、惩罚、威胁等手段）控制；支配 | |
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natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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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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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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vindicate
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| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
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civilizing
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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subjugation
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| n.镇压，平息，征服 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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61
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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62
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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66
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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67
auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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68
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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69
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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70
funnels
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| 漏斗( funnel的名词复数 )； （轮船，火车等的）烟囱 | |
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71
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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72
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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73
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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74
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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