In the Whirl of the Rising Part 33

She shook her head, trying to look solemn.

"All life is sacred," she began.

"Is it? Mine wasn't--not much. But I'm pretty sure that the immersed gutter-snipe's was less so."

No, there was no keeping up the solemnity line. Clare went off into a rippling peal of laughter.

"I can't help it," she exclaimed. "But don't imagine I approve. It was very wrong indeed to let slip an opportunity of saving life."

"Oh, for the matter of that, if the wretched little beast had been quite alone the case would have been different. As it was, there were plenty of others to haul him out if they chose, so I let them. Then I was insulted and abused by the last person in the world who should have done so, and that in front of a gang of gaping clodhoppers. I hope Ancram didn't leave that part of the story out, because then you will know I have been engaged before."

"Yes, I knew that," answered Clare, who was secretly admiring the straightforward, unhesitating manner in which he told his tale. No stuttering or beating about the bush. He had something to say, and he said it in the most natural and concise manner possible. And she liked that.

"I'm glad. That makes it easier," he returned.

"But," she went on, "are you sure you have no lingering regrets on that score? Not even a little one deep down in your heart?"

"Not the very ghost of one. I am a vindictive animal, I suppose, but that sort of treatment leaves no room for lingering regrets, though it does for lingering resentment. But even of that there is none left now.

You will never turn against me, darling?"

"Never," she answered decisively and without hesitation, although startled by the sudden directness of the question.

"No matter what I did? Even to a repet.i.tion of the incident I have been telling you?"

"Not even then. No--nothing could ever make me turn from you," she repeated, with a sudden burst of pa.s.sion.

It was a strange contrast, these two walking there, talking, thinking of love. Down by a stagnant water-hole in the nearly dry river-bed, the horses and mules were grazing, under an armed guard, and yonder the gleam of rifles where vedettes were posted. Outside and within the stockade men lounged and chatted, all ready to fly to arms at the first alarm.

So to these two it was as an oasis--this peace of a great happiness.

They had found it between the lurid storms of war, and good--very good-- was it for them that they had.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE IMPI.

The vedettes had signalled. Away over the veldt to the westward a pillar of dust was visible; and it was moving, drawing nearer. A group, outside the stockade, was watching it intently.

"What d'you make of it, Grunberger?" said Fullerton impatiently.

"I think dot was someone coming," answered the storekeeper, who was looking through a pair of field-gla.s.ses. This instructive utterance evolved a laugh.

"That's what we all think, old chap," said Jim Steele. "What we want to _know_ is who it's likely to be. White or black, or blue or green, or what?"

"Dot was one white man and one Matabele," said the storekeeper, still intently scanning the approaching dust. "_Ach_! und they ride like de devil."

"Here, let's have a look in, Grunberger," cried Fullerton. "I may know who it is."

The other resigned the gla.s.ses, and after a long look, during which the two mounted figures drew rapidly nearer, Fullerton exclaimed--

"By Jove, I do! It's Driffield--Driffield and a boy."

The excitement became intense. n.o.body would push his horses at that pace on a hot day unless he were a born fool--which Driffield was not.

Clearly there must be somebody behind him, from whom he had a strong interest in getting away.

"How about telling the captain?" suggested someone.

"Not yet," cut in Peters, who had just joined the group. "Lamont's sound asleep, and he needs it too, for to my knowledge he hasn't shut his eyes for four nights. Time enough when we hear what's in the wind."

And that was not to be long. Driffield rolled from his horse panting with excitement and hard riding, and his tale was very soon told, and his experience was closely akin to that of Peters. He had been set upon in his camp that morning by three of his boys, but at the same time he had discovered a number of natives making for his camp at no great distance. He killed two a.s.sailants with his shot-gun, and the third took to his heels. Meanwhile, with great presence of mind, the other boy, who had remained faithful, had quickly saddled up the ponies, and the two had got away, but only just in time, for the crowd was beginning to fire at them. But on the road they were forced to make a sudden _detour_ to avoid a big impi, which was heading straight in this direction.

"That's news!" said Peters. "They're likely coming for this place, expecting only to find Grunberger, all childlike and confiding. Ah!"

Again the vedette was signalling, and all eyes turned instinctively in the same direction as before. There, sure enough, where the first dust column had been sighted, arose another; no narrow thread this time but a very volume.

"That's them, right enough," said Driffield, while refreshing. "Let my boy have some skoff, will you, Grunberger. He's jolly well earned it."

If the news brought by the Native Commissioner was a source of vivid excitement to all present, no less was theirs to him. He had calculated on warning Grunberger, and if needful giving him a hand in moving his family to Gandela, which he would have had time to do while the Matabele were looting his possessions; instead of which he found the place quite strongly garrisoned, and indeed, considering its defensive facilities, it might be held against very considerable odds. And thus to hold it was the resolve of all there.

"By Jove, but you fellows were in luck," he said regretfully. "I wish I had been there. And Miss Vidal--why, she's splendid."

"I can tell you she saved the whole outfit, by preventing the n.i.g.g.e.rs getting at the mules before we came up," went on his informant. "I had it from Fullerton she shot three with her own hand."

"Three mules?"

"No--n.i.g.g.e.rs--don't be a silly a.s.s, Driffield. Only don't make any allusion to it when you see her. She wants to forget it."

"Of course. Any nice girl would. And she--by Jove, she's splendid!"

"You're not alone in that opinion," said the other so significantly as to draw the obvious query--

"Why?"

"Well," lowering his voice, "Lamont seems to be making powerful running in that quarter. In fact he pretty well gave the show away in his wild eagerness to start after them the moment he heard Fullerton's crowd was on the road at all."

Whereby it is manifest that Lamont's secret was not quite such a secret as he--and the sharer of it--imagined.

He, the while, together with others, was watching the approaching dust-cloud, and a council of war was held. Most were in favour of allowing the raiders to approach quite close, and then surprise them with a raking volley. This followed up quickly by another and another could not fail to demoralise them utterly. Meanwhile the pickets came riding rapidly in.

"Large force of Matabele coming up the road, sir," reported the first.

"Right. Every man to his post," ordered Lamont. His expression of countenance grew anxious, as soon the impi swung into view, marching in close formation, and divided into three companies--the largest and central of which kept the road, hence the dust-cloud. For he estimated that it could not be less than a thousand strong, and how was his small force going to hold its own against a determined rush on the part of such overwhelming odds?

The impi, as it drew near, presented an imposing spectacle. The warriors were in their national fighting gear. Quite half of them had been herders or mine boys for the settlers and prospectors--some perchance store-hands in the townships, but all had discarded the tattered shirt and trousers, or ragged hat, and their bronze bodies were bedecked with feather and bead adornments, and cow-tails, and monkey skins, and jackal-teeth necklaces--all of which, from a spectacular point of view, const.i.tuted an immense improvement. Then, too, the forest of great tufted shields, white or black, red or variegated, the quivering rattle of a.s.segai hafts, making weird accompaniment to the gong-like roar of the deep voices as they marched, singing--a.s.suredly the sight was a martial and inspiring one; but of those who beheld it their leader was not the only one to think that he might have appreciated it more fully if this enclosure contained not less than a hundred good white men instead of a bare three dozen.

The latter were watching through the c.h.i.n.ks in the stockade--these in many places formed natural loopholes, where they did not they were made to. How long would it be before the word was given to fire? was the one thought in possession of each tense, strained mind. Then, suddenly, the advancing host came to a halt.

Clearly the Matabele were not quite satisfied as to the place being so innocent-looking and deserted as they had expected. For one thing, there were no horses or cattle grazing about anywhere within sight, these, of course, having been brought within at the earliest alarm.