Jasper Lyle Part 22

We spent the summer months at Newlands. Do you remember one of those shaded paths between the quince and pomegranate hedges? the tall mountain rising like a giant between the sun and this quiet retreat.

Here Lady Amabel and I used to bring our work, and sketch-books; and here Sir Adrian protested he always found Fairfax half an hour after the horses were ordered for the business visit to the town. The General complained that his aide-de-camp was more idle than ever; and Lady Amabel would shake her head at me, and then at Clarence, with a gentle smile of deprecation at us all.

She had set her heart upon marrying me to Clarence Fairfax. She did not tell me so, but I discovered it, albeit her tact veiled her intentions from all but one besides myself. This was not Clarence; it was Mrs Rashleigh.

The moment Lady Amabel had formed this "pretty plus," as she afterwards called it, she did just what a woman of refined mind would do. She took care, lest the world should sully my fair name with the breath of scandal. Had she been a manoeuvrer, she could not have done more to draw Clarence nearer to me. She kept me more by her side than she had done; she drew back when we sauntered in the ride; she made excuses to separate us if we sat too long together; and, in short, often disturbed Clarence's equanimity. He was of a pa.s.sionate temper, though not rough in disposition; but I had never seen his disposition tried in essentials. I had yet to discover in him the foundation of selfishness--vanity. Ah! why am I antic.i.p.ating? Major Frankfort, I did not antic.i.p.ate or reason, while writing the first pages of the journal to which I have to refer in addressing this hurried scrawl to you.

Not far from the house at Newlands is a beautiful grove. You approach it by a labyrinth of lemon glades and silver trees--you remember those silver trees, always whispering on the scented air that pervades those Arcadian woods. The grove crowns a natural mound within a miniature forest, a clear stream ripples below, and falls musically over the rocks, making a natural cascade. In the hottest days of December a soft breeze murmurs through this grove, and stirs this shining stream. Lady Amabel would retire here with me in the blazing hours of noon, and Clarence would follow us, with servants bearing baskets of fruit and the light wines of Constantia.

Lady Amabel was always happy with us in this lovely spot. Clarence and I named it the Fountain of Nigeria; he had been there, and said it resembled it. I think I hear Lady Amabel's gentle laugh at my unsteady steps in descending, a.s.sisted by her nephew, to cool the wine in the stream, and gather lemon and pomegranate blossoms to decorate the sylvan feast; and then my frightened air at being left below, unable to return without his help, which he so loved to give! I recollect one day a large party "tracking us out," as Clarence said, and Lady Amabel's vexation at our nook being invaded. She was the _chaperone_ again, and drew my arm under hers at once.

We could hear the voices of the party before they reached us. I recognised one, Mrs Rashleigh's; she was in advance of all, dressed with extravagant taste, painted, veiled, and redolent of perfumes.

There was the old bitter tone in her mode of rallying "Fairfax," on being "_Lady Amabel's aide-de-camp_;" and, having paid her compliments with what I thought an impertinent air, she led off Clarence. I could see them strolling together between the tall pomegranate hedges. Unlike the conversations between Clarence and myself, it seemed that she was the talker, and he the listener; for the sun falling where they stopped for many minutes in the walk, I could distinctly perceive her gestures, while he appeared silent and grave.

But, while remarking this curious proceeding, I heard a young Dutch lady say to another, "Mrs Rashleigh and Captain Fairfax are quarrelling--did you hear that she was enraged with him at the last ball?"

"Oh, yes; and they say he has not been at her house since the Governor has been at Newlands--hush!"

They discovered I was near them, and were silent.

I heard remarks of the same nature from others of the party; but Lady Amabel was engaged with a group of children round the fruit-table. She had released me from her kind _surveillance_ on seeing Mrs Rashleigh lead off her nephew. She had only designated Clarence as "her nephew"

since my advent at Government House.

I fear you may think these puerilities, dear Major Frankfort. I will turn over three or four leaves of this childish journal.

One day, Lady Amabel was slightly indisposed; I carried my work-frame to her morning-room. The General and all his staff had ridden to Cape Town to meet some foreign official. She begged me to take my walk in the grounds, and I left her.

It was one of those dreamy days, such as we have lately had here. The birds and insects dropped their wings in the boughs. I hastened through the pathways, glowing with the sun, and sought the "Grove of Egeria." I went, singing to myself that pretty bit of Handel,

"Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade; Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade."

It was in harmony with the scene--all was calm--the glare of the heavens could not penetrate there--and I sauntered leisurely on, enjoying the solitude, and sat down beneath the branches of a n.o.ble plane-tree.

Suddenly I heard a sound of horses' feet; I thought it was some one pa.s.sing along the high road hidden by the plantations; the sound drew nearer; I looked through a long green vista--it was Clarence Fairfax, followed by his groom; he looked up as he approached. I was standing in a natural arch, with the light streaming down through an opening above.

I never thought of drawing back, as I ought to have done, for Lady Amabel would have objected to our meeting in this retired spot.

Clarence saw me, waved his forage-cap, and, springing from his horse, threw the reins to the groom.

He was in the grove in an instant, and at my feet, as I reclined, trembling with emotion, under the plane-tree boughs.

Ah! Major Frankfort, had you heard his gentle words, his expressions of pleasure at meeting me alone--the contrasts he drew between other girls and me; had you seen his smile, as he held my hand in his, and looked upon me!--you would not have doubted that he loved me.

But he terrified me by desiring--ah! he was very imperative--that I would say nothing to Lady Amabel of this meeting.

I would have retreated from the grove, but he seized me by the hand, and entreated me to listen to his reasons for _delay_.

Woe is me! I did listen to this once--_only this once_.

One might write volumes on such a text; but I was firm in not consenting to another meeting. I had been brought up in the few of doing wrong.

I trembled when I met Lady Amabel in the hall; she was tying on her bonnet, and coming to meet me.

"Did you see Clarence?" she asked; "his horses have just gone round to the stable."

Before I could reply, I heard the tread of a spurred and booted heel upon the threshold of the hall-door; Lady Amabel took it for granted Clarence had just dismounted, for she inquired if the General and Captain Walton were following him.

No; Clarence had left them "up to their knees in foolscap" in a government office.

I escaped to my room, shut the door, and began to think.

Those were two wretched hours, which I spent alone on the 18th of January, 18--. I pleaded, with truth, the lady's excuse for not driving with Lady Amabel to meet Sir Adrian. She took Clarence Fairfax with her in the carriage.

It was dusk when they returned, and a britzska full of visitors followed the General's equipage. I was at the head of the stairs, when I heard Mrs Rashleigh's voice; the servants were lighting the lamps. I looked over the banisters, she and two or three other ladies were coming up to arrange their toilette before dinner.

Clarence stood at the foot of the stairs; he was laughing at some bold sally of Mrs Rashleigh's, for he said, "for shame."

She had a brilliant bouquet in her hand; she tapped him on the cheek, and he, catching the beautiful hand, drew off the glove, and kissed it.

I rushed back to my dim chamber.

All this was painfully incomprehensible to me. I was totally ignorant of the character of a male flirt--I set down Mrs Rashleigh as a friend!--a dashing, impudent woman, but only a friend--thirty-two years old, as she acknowledged, and every one said she was at least thirty-five, to me at sixteen she appeared old; Clarence Fairfax was five-and-twenty.

I dare say that the intimacy of these two people would have been a mystery to you; and yet, ere this, you may have learned how mischievous is the influence which a bold, meretricious, experienced woman, whose chief study has been to please the other s.e.x, gains by perseverance over a vain young man.

Clarence Fairfax loved me as well as he was capable of loving anything besides himself; but he was enthralled by this daring being--he was afraid of her. Ah! you may doubt; but history tells us how vain and indolent men have quailed before vicious women. She even exercised a sort of mysterious power over gentle Lady Amabel. The latter had an instinctive, feminine dread of Mrs Rashleigh's sarcastic laugh and audacious stare.

As for Sir Adrian, she amused him. She was a dashing rider, too; she had given it up for some years, but returned to it on being tempted to try Zara, my well-trained Arab. G.o.d forgive me for my suspicions--it acquired some dangerous tricks under her tutoring; she used to boast of her talent for the _manege_, and scandalised the decorous Dutch ladies, who, she said, were jealous of her, by riding with the General and his staff about the square at a grand review.

Lady Amabel was beginning to penetrate the cause of my fits of dejection, when unexpected news from the military posts startled both her and myself.

The war-cry had rung from the mountains in Kafirland. Vividly do I remember the night on which this intelligence reached Cape Town. The whole of the authorities, with many members of their families, had a.s.sembled, amid a crowd of pleasure-loving people, on board a fine English frigate, to celebrate a national festival. Gay groups were scattered about the decks, awaiting the arrival of Sir Adrian and his party. I was happy that evening, and stepped on the deck, leaning on Clarence's arm. How kind, how tender had been his manner, as he almost lifted me from the barge to the gangway of the n.o.ble ship! As people are said, in the last hours of existence, to review minutely every incident of their lives, so could I once retrace the most trifling details of this brilliant and enchanting fete. As I recall it now, I remember everything--the wreaths, the flags of all the great nations of the world; the glittering arms interspersed among the laurels, and the effect of the soft light from the battle-lanterns disposed along the p.o.o.p; innumerable lamps shedding their radiance through the draperies of scarlet and amber, purple, green, and white, and blue; the crowds of laughing dancers; the imposing array of military and naval uniforms and decorations.

Ah, fatal gift of beauty!

How long it was before I could cease to think of Clarence on that night, his plumed hat in his hand! How often did his gay laugh haunt me, like a mockery, in the silence of the night! His countenance beamed like an angel's, as it leant down to mine, and his whispered accents touched my very soul amid the din of the giddy throng.

Arms clattered on the deck, as the Governor, Sir Adrian, acknowledged the salute from the guard of honour; the stirring air of "G.o.d save the King" pealed from the band on the p.o.o.p; the crowd parted right and left, and the Admiral came forward to receive us. Having paid his compliments, Admiral B gave the order, in a good-humoured voice, to "clear the decks for action"--dance-music floated from unseen musicians; the officers selected their partners, and Clarence Fairfax led me to the head of the quadrille.