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Mrs Skeffington-Smythe used to lie on the sofa most of the day, either polishing her already over-polished nails with a silver polisher or reading Swinburne's _Poems and Ballads_, a copy of which she carried about with her eternally.
Anna Cleeve would sit by her embroidering on linen, or writing up her journal, which she kept faithfully, saying she would some day write a history of the war. It should have made interesting reading if her pen was half as biting as her tongue.
I wrote letters, and sometimes sketched--anything to appear to take in life the interest I had ceased to feel, and to get through the days until the patrol came back from Linkwater. Mrs Valetta sat always in Mrs-Pat-Campbellish att.i.tudes, biting her lips and watching the world stand still, through half-closed eyes. When the others were not there I was sometimes obliged to listen to her acrid comments on them, and the world in general, and life grew a little greyer and drearier in the listening.
I learned that Anna Cleeve was staying on a visit with some rather well-off cousins in Salisbury. Her uncle was an official of the Company. She had come out to Africa, said Mrs Valetta, with the pure and simple purpose all women have from their cradles up. She purposed to marry--and to marry well--some one with money enough to take her back to the country she loved.
"A London girl! You know what that means. They never see any beauty away from Bond Street or outside of the Royal Academy. However, she is going to marry Herbert Stanfield, and he is well off enough to take her back. But she had better hurry up. She is twenty-five now, and looks thirty when things go wrong. I dare say you know she imagines herself in love with Anthony Kinsella."
Her oddly-coloured eyes flashed like a searchlight over me; but though my heart came into my throat in a suffocating way, I had my mask on and I think she could read nothing.
"Do you think it quite fair to discuss other people's private and rather sacred affairs, Mrs Valetta?"
"Oh, fair? Perhaps not, but it will always be done while there are men and women in the world, and if you think that anything can be kept private and sacred in this country, my dear girl, you are greatly deluded. Every one knows and has discussed the matter of Anna Cleeve's infatuation for Anthony Kinsella. Some people will even supply you with the conversation that occurred when she taxed him with being already married."
I felt the blood leaving my face. I dared not speak for fear of betraying to this cruel woman how much I was suffering.
"Of course friendships between men and women are everyday affairs in this country. We are nearly all married and bored and trying to find some interest in life. But the married women don't care about the girls annexing their privileges. And then there are some men with whom friendship is forbidden; Anthony Kinsella is one of them. However, Anna Cleeve's friendship with him came to a wise end, and she is now engaged to her rich man. But I haven't the slightest doubt as to where her heart is."
"How can you say such things?" I said, quivering with indignation.
"What has it to do with you or me? You are probably doing Miss Cleeve a great injustice."
She answered in her usual dry and weary manner:
"I may or I may not be. But I think it would be easier to fall in love with Tony Kinsella than out of it, don't you?"
I advanced no opinion. I had learned to expect her thrusts and to receive them without testifying. Nevertheless they added to my pain which was already more than I could bear.
After four days the relief column returned from Linkwater.
A watcher stationed in the tower told of its approach one afternoon, and in less than ten minutes the whole community was out too, watching and waiting. I went with the rest; it was impossible to do otherwise without making myself conspicuous, but I tied a big veil round my face for fear my mask should fail me at the moment I saw Anthony. Mrs Valetta came too and Anna Cleeve, pale as a bone, the former with her teeth dug into her lip in a way that was painful to watch. Not that I watched her. One look was enough to tell me not to look again, and I was occupied with my own misery.
Anthony Kinsella riding carelessly with his right arm turned in on his hip was all I saw. A dark face with two blue points in it under a slouched felt hat: eyes that with one swift look dragged my glance to his over the heads of everybody, long before he rode in amongst us with his little band. In the midst of them was an untented cart drawn by oxen containing several women and children and a sick man. Every one crowded round the riders shaking hands, questioning, welcoming. The Commandant without delay had his arm round Anthony Kinsella's shoulders and drew him into his office, closing the door. They were officials and had to attend to the business of the country. We were left to welcome the poor people in the cart--two sullen, sunburnt, colonial women, very Dutch and disagreeable, and a tribe of small brats. Huts had been prepared for them and the doctor had the sick man carried off to the hospital.
Gerry Deshon and the rest of them hailed us cheerfully and dismounting proceeded to recount their adventures, which it transpired had not been of a wildly exciting order. They had seen nothing of the enemy, and instead of being pleased thereat were full of weariness and wrath.
"Devil an _impi_!" they bitterly announced. "Not the scrag end of one.
All we got for our pains was the pleasure of being chewed up by flies and skeeters, Dennison's horse gone dead lame, and Stair with a sprained arm."
"Yes, and those blessed Dutchmen didn't want to be rescued. They kicked at being taken away from their farms. Kinsella had his work cut out making them quit. The women cursed and the brats howled. Oh, it was dreamful!"
"The most awful flat frosty business you ever saw!"
"Never mind," said the American, who had been called away to join the conclave in the office and now reappeared. "Never mind, my dears.
We're away off to the woods to-night."
"To-night!" Disgust and fatigue departed from the tea-coloured, begrimed visages.
"To-night?"
"Yea-bu, verily, verily, this very night. Kim has said it. If we get a big move on us we'll be in time for the shine at Buluwayo yet. If we can't catch up with the other column maybe we can cut across country and do a little stunt of our own. Kim knows this old map like the palm of his hand. Excuse _me_--I must go and look after the commissariat."
"And I must go and get some sleep or else I'll freck."
"Me too."
Every one began to disappear in a great hurry.
"Aren't we going to get a word with Major Kinsella?" said Mrs Skeffington-Smythe to the postmaster, who stood sulking in the verandah.
"I want to ask him to look after my husband and see that he is not too reckless."
"He has a forty-foot pile of letters and telegrams to go through with the Commandant. _He_ won't get much sleep before they start tonight."
Every one returned home, except Dr Marriott, who after listening to all that had been said went and leaned against the door of the office which enclosed Anthony and Colonel Blow. I would have liked to go and lean there with him.
It was the custom for Anna Cleeve and Mrs Skeffington-Smythe to spend the early part of the afternoon resting in their tent, rejoining us later for tea, and Mrs Skeffington-Smythe was for this plan now for the heat was intense and one longed for shade and rest, but Miss Cleeve turned on her irritably.
"Don't talk to me about lying down, Nina, when every one else is standing up doing something. Let us go back to the hut. I suppose you'll give us some tea, Nonie?"
"Yes. Thank G.o.d for Adriana!" said Mrs Valetta fervently. "We may as well make use of her while we have her. Perhaps she too will scoot off in the night soon."
So we went back and sat down in the old sweet way--Mrs Skeffington-Smythe on the sofa, Anna on the stool by her side embroidering, and Mrs Valetta rocking herself in the rocking-chair. I with my everlasting sketch-book sketched a figure that sat carelessly on horseback with one hand turned in on the hip. But I kept my book out of the reach of other eyes.
Adriana laid tea. There was a tense feeling in the room and expectation hung in the air. Anna Cleeve and I avoided each other's glance, and when Mrs Skeffington-Smythe began to whine about her Monty once more, her friend gave her a look that was like the flash of a knife in the air.
"Don't begin that, Nina, for G.o.d's sake--wait till you're hurt."
Surprise dried Nina Skeffington-Smythe's tears, and at the moment a man's step was heard approaching. Anna Cleeve's teeth dug into her lip again and I put my hand to my throat, for it seemed to have suddenly grown a great pulse there that was suffocating me. Mrs Valetta rushed to the door, and Dr Abingdon walked in bestowing a surprised leer upon her for this unusually ardent welcome. She would not or could not conceal her disappointment.
"Oh! it's only _you_," said she brutally, and even such a hardened old sinner was dashed for a moment. But I invited him to sit by me and have some tea, and he immediately regained his _aplomb_. Nonie Valetta turned her back on us and stood by the window staring out. I poured the tea, and flat expressionless small talk circulated for a moment or two, but the doctor had some news for us.
"From what Kinsella reports, Blow has given orders for the barricades to be finished to-night, and every one is to sleep in _laager_."
"What! Leave our beds?" screamed Mrs Skeffington-Smythe rolling her striped eyes.
"No, take them with you," said the doctor.
Mrs Valetta turned angrily on him.
"Ridiculous! I don't believe there is the faintest chance of an attack."
"It's what they're doing in Salisbury and Victoria. We're very lucky if we don't have to be shut up all day as well as all night. Pickets have been thrown out round the township, and at the first alarm every one is to sprint for _laager_. Upon such an occasion I shall be the first man in."
He was interrupted by the footsteps of a new arrival--a boy called Curry this time--with an official doc.u.ment from which he read us the information that we had just received _viva voce_. We were instructed that the place was now under martial law, and that every one must explicitly obey the word of the Commandant or take the consequences.
Furthermore, we were all to be in _laager_ before sundown every evening.
After reading his doc.u.ment very grandly Mr Curry invited himself to a cup of tea, which he swallowed hastily. He then departed in a bustling manner and the doctor followed in his wake. We were left to cogitate upon the charms of _laager_.