"Thank God!" she cried, raising herself with difficulty.
Where Van Zwieten was she did not know. He could not harm her now; Harold was there to protect her. Clinging to the stones of the fence in the drenching2 rain, she cried his name aloud again. There was silence, then the sound of many voices and the tramp of feet.
"Who goes there?" asked a gruff, military voice.
"I--an Englishwoman--Mrs. Burton--let me in."
The gruff voice uttered an exclamation3 of astonishment4, and there sounded the dull thud of a rifle being grounded. Immediately afterward5 she heard a light footstep on the veranda6 of the house, and her husband's voice, surprised and incredulous.
"Brenda!"
"Oh, Harold, Harold, it is I! Let me in--let me in!"
The gate in the wall was pushed open and several privates emerged. Someone carrying a lantern swung it so that the light fell on her pale and haggard face. Then, with a low cry of astonishment, her husband picked her up in his arms and carried her into the house.
"Good God! Brenda, what are you doing--how did you come here?"
She could not speak--she was sobbing7 on his breast. He placed her gently on the hard sofa. Then she found her voice. But she could think of nothing--say nothing. She could only rejoice in having found him.
"Oh, Harold, Harold! Thank God, I have been led to you!"
"My poor girl, you are cold and wet and exhausted8. Here, drink this brandy, and I'll get something cooked for you. Don't exhaust yourself more by trying to explain. That will come after."
He had thought of her far away--safe and sound in Spearman's Camp. Even now he had some faint notion that Van Zwieten had something to do with this, though how he could have managed it he couldn't for the life of him conjecture9.
She smiled lovingly at him, and submitted to be wheeled in the chair to the fire. Her habit was soaking wet, and steaming now in the heat. He knelt beside her and took her hand.
The room was of no great size. It was furnished quite roughly with a few chairs and a sofa, and a table of unpainted deal. Pictures from the Illustrated10 London News and the Graphic11 were on the walls; there was a portrait of President Kruger, looking even more grim than usual, over the mantelpiece; from its presence she judged that the owners of the place were rebels. Outside, the rain still came down in torrents12, and in a room close by she could hear the men keeping up their spirits and doing their best to make all gay within. Making her take off her soaking habit, her husband wrapped her in his military cloak. He asked no questions, for he saw that she was not in a fit state of mind to answer them. She began once or twice to try and tell him, but he would not listen.
"When you have something to eat, dear, and have got these wet things off, then I am ready to listen to all the miracles you have to tell me, for I can't conceive how you came here in this plight13 except by a miracle."
Then a woman--who so far belied14 the traditions of Boer female beauty as to be exceeding lean instead of stout--entered the room with a tray of smoking dishes. She was a kindly15 creature, and smiled pleasantly. She spoke16 nothing but low Dutch, and answered to the name of Tant' Wilhelmina. If she were at heart a rebel she showed no sign of hostility17 outwardly. She bustled18 Brenda into another room, and there supplied her with garments, dry certainly, but of the most wonderful design and colour.
Clothed in these things--which were in truth the Boer woman's Sunday finery--Brenda came back to the sitting-room19. Even such garments could not take away from her beauty, though they effectually concealed20 every line of her figure. She sat down to the table and ate. Harold had gone to see his men. Then she sipped21 a little of the brandy and sat herself down by the fire. She felt as though she would never be warm. But after all she had undergone, this peace and rest was heavenly.
"Well, dearest," said her husband, entering quickly, "how do you feel now?"
"Better--much better. Come and sit by me, Harold, and I will tell you how I come to be here. You are just dying to know, and trying not to show it for my sake!"
He unbuckled his sword and drew a chair beside his wife. "I am very much astonished," he said, taking her hand in his, "but I have an idea before you say a word. Is it Van Zwieten?"
"Yes! I thought you might guess as much. I left the camp for a ride, and my pony22 bolted. Mr. van Zwieten, it appears, through the agency of a Kaffir, arranged it all by tampering23 with the bit. I was thrown; there I lay alone on the veldt. He came up and carried me off on his horse. When the storm burst I managed to wrench24 myself free and ran toward the lights in the house. But I never, never expected to find you here, dearest! It is God's mercy that has led me to you."
"I have only been here a few hours," he explained. "Warren's division had started, and we are to remain until it comes up. How strange that we should meet here. So Van Zwieten is at his tricks again! The brute25! How I wish I could get a shot at him. Did he come near the house with you?"
"No. When he heard the shots he rode away; at least, I think so. But I am safe with you, Harold!"
"For the time being, Brenda. But it is just as likely as not Van Zwieten, knowing where you are, will return with a Boer force and try to take the house. This is the enemy's country, and they have not yet retired26 before the advance. I expect the division about dawn; but there will be time for Van Zwieten to attack before then."
"Harold! promise to shoot me before I fall into his hands."
The perspiration27 broke out on the young man's forehead. "If the worst comes, Brenda, I will," he said solemnly, "but I hope to shoot him. Of course, he may not bring any Boers up after all. They must know of Warren's advance, and I dare say they'll be afraid to linger outside their entrenchments. How did Van Zwieten find you on the veldt?"
"He watched the camp and followed me. Oh Harold, the whole thing was a scheme of his own to get possession of me. When I escaped he was taking me to the Boer camp; and he intended to send me to Pretoria."
"To marry you, I suppose, after I was shot! How did he treat you, Brenda?"
Mrs. Burton met her husband's gaze fearlessly. "With all courtesy," she said. "If I had been his sister he could not have treated me better. And I had my revolver, you know, until he took it from me.
"The scoundrel! I am glad you were well treated. I have to thank him for so much consideration. But if he had not----" Harold clenched28 his fist.
"I would have killed myself!" said his wife, with equal fierceness. "You can trust me, Harold. You don't suppose anything--anything, even torture, could change me?"
"No, dear; I know you are the bravest little woman in the world. I have the utmost faith in you. I should be a cur if I had not. Tell me more about this brute's plotting."
This she did, omitting no detail from the time when Van Zwieten had picked her up on the veldt to the time of her meeting with him, her husband. He ground his teeth as he listened; yet he was relieved to find things were no worse. In spite of the Dutchman's villainy, he was inclined to think better of him than he had hitherto done. Dishonourable as he was, he had at least treated a defenceless woman with respect. At the conclusion of the story he kissed her again for her bravery.
"Dearest, you have been splendid! I am a lucky fellow to have so plucky29 a little soul for my wife. Curse the man! I long for the moment when I shall be face to face with him. He deserves nothing better than a bullet; and he'll get it if I can shoot straight."
"No, don't shoot him," said Brenda; "he behaved well to me. He is a spy and a scoundrel, but he is not a brute. And, Harold, I really believe he loves me truly!"
"Who would not love you, my own?" said her husband, tenderly. "Yes, I can see he loves you. It is the best feeling in his black heart. All the same, I wish he would transfer this chivalrous30 affection to some other quarter and leave you alone."
"I am afraid he will never leave me alone until he dies!"
"Then he must die!" cried her husband, fiercely. "I shall protect you from these insults at any cost. Curse him, I wish I had shot him at Chippingholt when he accused me of murdering Malet. But we will talk of this another time, Brenda. You are worn out. Lie down on the sofa, dear, and try to sleep. Let me put my cloak over you."
"But you, Harold?"
"I must keep my eyes about me. I have an idea that Van Zwieten will bring his Boers up before dawn."
"If you think so, would it not be better to retreat towards the advancing column?"
"No. I have my orders to stay here; though, of course, no attack was anticipated. Here I'll stay, Brenda, and do my duty. I have a dozen men, and in this house I daresay we can hold out until our advance guard arrives. I am not afraid for myself, but for you."
"Dearest, do not be afraid for me. I would rather be here than in the camp. If we are to die, we die together."
"I won't die; neither shall you. We'll baffle Van Zwieten yet! So far, fortune has been on our side. Now go to sleep. I must attend to my duty!"
Brenda obeyed. She was worn out with emotion and fatigue31; so much so that she could not sleep. She lay flat on her back on the hard sofa, staring at the whitewashed32 ceiling, on which the flicker33 of the dying lamp made the shadows dance. Harold had taken away the lamp in case the steady light should attract attention from the outside. If Van Zwieten was about it was not improbable that he would fire where he saw a light. Brenda hoped with all her soul that he would not return. She could not bear to think that she had been the means of bringing Harold and his men into peril34. But she sadly feared that, knowing where she was, the Dutchman would bring up some of the enemy, who were not far away, and would try to capture the farmhouse before the advance column came up. Full of the thought of it, worn out by anxiety and excited by the novelty of the situation, she could not close her eyes, but tossed and turned on her hard couch, longing35 for the daylight. The suspense36 was almost unbearable37.
The hours passed slowly. Now and then Harold would come in to give her a word of comfort; and she always replied with a bright smile and a cheerful word.
The men in the other parts of the house relieved each other in watching. Captain Burton had honestly told them what they might expect. There was nothing to be gained in minimising matters. Each man--there were a dozen of them--had his rifle and revolver with a few rounds of cartridges38. It was obvious they could not hold the place against any prolonged attack on account of their shortness of ammunition39. But if the Boers did not commence operations until dawn, as it was improbable they would do, they on the other hand, would not have much time. Warren's column was on the march, and would be there betimes in the morning, and then the enemy would be forced to fall back on their entrenchments among the mountains unless they chose to run the risk of capture by the superior force. On the whole, Harold felt sanguine40 that he and his men would come out of it all right. And there was always the chance that Van Zwieten might not bring up his force, or that he might make overelaborate preparation, and thus delay the attack if he did. At worst, he could rely upon the arrival of the column very shortly.
He determined41 that, when all was safe, he would send Brenda back to the camp. That done, he could march forward to the relief of Ladysmith with a light heart. Twice Brenda had escaped this man. She should do so a third time.
Toward dawn the rain ceased and the thunderclouds rolled away, leaving a clear and starry42 sky. There was no moon, but the surrounding objects were faintly outlined in a kind of luminous43 twilight44. The animals about the house commenced to wake and sniff45 the morning air. Burton went on to the veranda and looked out on the wild waste veldt, uncanny in the cold light of early dawn. He could discern no sign of an approaching enemy. Nevertheless, he felt anything but easy in his mind, and determined on a definite course of action. If Van Zwieten did come he would find the bird he wanted to capture flown beyond his reach. Captain Burton returned to the sitting-room and woke Brenda from the uneasy slumber46 into which she had fallen.
"Dearest!" he said, sitting down and drawing her to him, "I have a presentiment47 that Van Zwieten will attack this house, and I want to put you beyond his reach. I will send you forward with one of my men. There is a horse here which I can get from the Boer woman. He will take you to the advancing column and you will be sent back safely to the camp."
But she flatly refused to do this. "I won't leave you here to be shot. I know you can't come yourself, and I won't go without you. I suppose we could not all leave the place?"
"No. I have my orders to remain here until the column comes up. I can't disobey, Brenda. You must go."
"No, no, don't send me away! I will----"
There was a shout outside and Harold sprang to his feet. "I hope to God it is not too late!" he cried, and hurried out.
But it was too late. Across the veldt a large body of Boers were riding. The east was saffron colour, and everything for a considerable distance could be seen clearly. The sentry48 who had shouted pointed49 out the advancing column to his captain. And Harold went round the house and gave orders to bolt and bar all the windows. Then he returned to his wife and insisted that she should leave with one of the men.
"I must send a messenger back to tell them we are being attacked, and hurry them up. You must go, Brenda."
"No, no! A thousand times no!"
"God help us then," he groaned50, and went off to despatch51 his messenger. The enemy was riding at a canter across the grass. He took one of his lancers round by the back where the horses were picketed52, and told him to ride with all speed to the advancing column, and report the danger.
The man took his horse and stole quietly away, taking a wide detour53 to avoid the lynx eyes of the Boers. So he was away and out of sight before they reached the farmhouse by the front. Brenda could see them coming, could see Van Zwieten leading--she knew him by his golden beard. She ran to change her things, and by the time the Boers had dismounted near the fence running round the house, she was back in her riding-habit. She got a revolver from her husband, and by his orders remained in the sitting-room as the safest place. Then he kissed her fondly and went out. His men, posted at doors and windows, were all on the alert--coolly courageous54, as the British soldier always is in time of peril. For the rest they were in God's hands.
The yellow in the east changed to a fiery55 red, and all the earth was bathed in roseate hues56. From the verandah Captain Burton could see the wide veldt rolling in grassy57 waves to the foot of the distant mountains, and a gleam of the winding58 river, crimson59 in the glare. The enemy were grouped some distance away from the fence, and he went out with two men to ask their intentions. Of course he knew too well what they were, but even in war there is a certain etiquette60 to be observed. After a while Van Zwieten, with a white handkerchief at the end of a stick, came forward also with two men, and stopped at the fence, whence he could talk to the English officer.
"Well, you scoundrel!" Captain Burton said fiercely, for his soul loathed61 this man who was trying so hard to take his wife away from him, "what do you want?"
"I want Mrs. Burton, and I want you!"
"You shall have neither--or, at best, our dead bodies."
The other man changed colour. "Don't be a fool, Burton," he said. "I have a number of men here, and you must give in. Surrender, and I promise you that you shall go free."
"And my wife?"
"I can't let her go," Van Zwieten said sullenly62. "I have risked too much for her sake to do that. She must come with me!"
Captain Burton stepped forward a pace, but he still kept on the verandah. His orderlies stepped forward, also stolid63 and courageous. "You villains," said Burton, savagely64, "how dare you make such a proposal to me? If it were not for the flag you carry I would shoot you where you stand. If I were only one of your lot I should do so in spite of it! I hope to God that I shall kill you! And I will some day. You have insulted my wife for the last time, you scoundrel!"
"I never insulted Mrs. Burton, as she will tell you herself," the Dutchman said coolly. "And she will not be your wife long. I shall claim her as mine over your corpse65."
"Do so if you can! But I want no more talk. Retire your men."
"Surrender to the President of the Transvaal Republic!" was the counter demand.
"I hold this house for Her Majesty66 the Queen. I refuse to surrender."
"Your blood be on your own head, then!" Van Zwieten turned as though to retire. Suddenly he sprang aside and flung up his hand. The Boers with him instantly had their rifles to their shoulders, and two shots rang out. Harold had just time to throw himself down, but one of his men was shot. The poor fellow flung up his arms with a cry. It had not died away before a volley came from the British soldiers within the farm; but by this time Van Zwieten and his companions had decamped and, expecting the return fire, had thrown themselves down. The larger body of Boers fired; and under cover of this the three scoundrels rolled, and afterwards ran into safety. Harold sprang back through the door, whither the other soldier had preceded him. He picked up the dead man in his arms, and, with bullets pattering about him like rain, carried the body indoors. Then the door was closed and the siege began. As the first shots came ping, ping against the red stone walls, the sun uprose in a blaze of glory, and all the veldt was flooded with golden splendour.
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1
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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8
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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10
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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15
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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16
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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tampering
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| v.窜改( tamper的现在分词 )；篡改；（用不正当手段）影响；瞎摆弄 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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35
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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39
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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40
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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44
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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45
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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46
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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47
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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48
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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49
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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51
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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52
picketed
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| 用尖桩围住（picket的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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53
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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54
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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55
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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56
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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57
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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58
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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59
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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60
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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61
loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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62
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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63
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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64
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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65
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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66
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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