The Claw Part 17

"Frightfully jolly!" said Anna Cleeve. "To be penned in every night with a lot of women and old men and screaming babies. I wish I had hung on to the back of Connie Brand's cart."

We had heard that morning of the latter's safe arrival with Judy in Salisbury.

"It'll be just as bad in Salisbury," said Mrs Valetta gloomily. Mrs Skeffington-Smythe was rapidly making a calculation of the likely accommodation in the _laager_.

"There's the court-house room, and the R.M.'s office, and the postmaster's den behind the post-office--yes, and the Mining Commissioner's room and that other little den behind the Magistrate's office--the N.C.'s room. I suppose every one will crowd into the big court-room--thank Heaven I brought down my tent; we'll have it pegged out in the yard, Anna, and lace ourselves in at night and be perfectly cool and comfy."

"E'um!" agreed Anna, whose thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

"And if you secure the N.C.'s office, Mrs Valetta, we shall have a retiring-room as well for the evenings. I don't see why we should have such a bad time after all."

"It's six o'clock now," said Mrs Valetta. "I should think we had better begin to collect our things and make arrangements, shouldn't you, Miss Saurin?"

I agreed, and Mrs Skeffington-Smythe stirred, but Anna Cleeve pushed her back into her place.

"Oh, not yet, not yet. What's the use of rushing? There's tons of time. Let's talk things over."

For a reason which we all very well knew, she was determined not to go.

"I expect some one else will be in directly with more instructions--we might just as well wait and see." She suddenly turned to Mrs Valetta.

"You and Miss Saurin get ready, Nonie--never mind us."

Mrs Valetta made no move, but I presently rose and with an indifferent smile left them. What did it matter? If he did come I was only in the next room. I could hear his voice, at least, and perhaps it would be best so. Could I after all bear to meet him there, casually, under all those women's eyes--Anna Cleeve's searching glance, Nonie Valetta's ice-cold stare?

Perhaps it would be best after all, I thought, only to hear his voice; an opportunity would come later to speak to him. Surely he would make one!

Even while I faltered, standing before the broken mirror and staring at my own pale reflection there, his hand was on the door, and he came in amongst them with a gay greeting for every one. Afterwards it seemed to my aching ears there was a moment of expectation, an almost imperceptible pause--as though he had glanced round the room looking for some one else. His words seemed to verify my thought.

"I thought I should find every one here," he said, and my heart leapt.

Was there a curious inflection on the word _everyone_, or did I only imagine it? I could hear him stirring the tea they had given him, and the jingle of his spoon in the saucer afterwards, and the showers of questions and exclamations that fell upon him as he stood drinking.

Very clearly I heard Mrs Valetta's question, though it was in a soft and entreating voice I had never heard her use before:

"Why are you going, Kim? Surely it is your duty to stay here and mind us."

"Yes, _do_ stay," implored Mrs Skeffington-Smythe. "It will make such a difference. How safe we'll all feel!"

Anna Cleeve said nothing, but I could feel her _looking_. He laughed at their fears and fancies, waved off their compliments, and made light of everything.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, only do as Blow tells you. I don't for a moment suppose there's to be any fighting here or I wouldn't go; there won't be any fighting anywhere; the brutes are sure to run as soon as we come up with them; we shall be back in a week or two--you'll see.

I must go now. This is 'Hail and Farewell!' for the time being. We leave in about an hour's time and I've a power of work to do yet."

Still he did not go. Still I stood staring into the mirror.

"Oh, of course we shall come out and see you off," they said.

There was a little pause. He appeared to be on the point of leaving; a chain jingled and the creak of some leather strap he wore about him could be plainly heard. He struck his riding-boot with something he held in his hand. I stood rooted to the ground, staring--staring--at the pale pa.s.sionate waiting face in the gla.s.s before me. What was I waiting for so pa.s.sionately?

"Where is Miss Saurin?" he said.

At this a wave of pure happiness seemed to sweep over me and recede again, leaving me as weak and faint as if a real great wave of the sea had dashed itself against me. I leaned upon the dressing-table, trembling and helpless to move, and dimly in my throbbing head I heard the answers carelessly given that I was about somewhere, getting my things ready to go into _laager_--busy doing something or other.

A moment later he was gone, with I know not what thought in his heart.

Those women had the wisdom not to come and look for me afterwards. I think my eyes would have struck them dead as they entered the room.

In a little while I had recovered myself and went calmly on with my preparations. Judy's rouge box, forgotten, stood open on the table. I had never used paint in my life, but at the sight of my white face in the mirror I dipped my finger into the red powder and made two little smears on my face before I re-entered the sitting room. Nonie Valetta was at the window again; the other two had gone.

At seven o'clock ten horses were standing saddled and bridled in the square, and speculation was rife as to who the tenth was for. Maurice Stair had been put out of business by his sprained arm, so it had been decided that he could not go to the front, evidently some one had been chosen in his place. Wrath and envy mingled with curiosity was written upon the face of every stay-behind.

Was it possible that Clinton (the man most unwillingly left in charge of our guns) was breaking away after all? they fiercely asked. Had Stair's arm miraculously recovered? Was Bleksley an open rebel? Had the doctor suddenly become inspired with a l.u.s.t for war?--but that was too far-fetched a supposition even for Mashonaland!

The horse was gravely examined: an ancient beast with gnarled hocks, no tail, and a dappling of tiny dark blue pits on his grey hide, as though he had suffered with small-pox in some long-past year. But there was spirit in his eye, and some one murmured over him the mystic word "salted."

"_He_ won't die of _dik-kop_ this journey!" was prophetically announced.

The men were "riding light"; all that was on the horses was a blanket, a mackintosh sheet, and a wallet with food enough for two or three days.

It was popularly stated that this little crowd had an excellent chance of meeting a Matabele _impi_, and being cut off before they had gone twenty miles. However, they came out of Swears's, where most of them had been s.n.a.t.c.hing a last hasty meal, laughing like schoolboys, and all the stay-behinds hung and clamoured after them, eyeing the horses wistfully, giving grandiloquent advice about everything, and complaining bitterly of their lot.

To every one's amazement it was seen that the tenth man was no other than Dr Marriott. Suddenly appearing he shambled on to the grey horse, mounted awkwardly and sat there, a moody drooping figure, looking as though he belonged to some other world than that of the gay jesting crowd around him; possibly he did; probably he was lost in strange dreams of the strange lands of which De Quincey has told us.

Swift enquiries were as swiftly answered, and the whispered news flew round that, obsessed by his desire to go to the front, he had pleaded with Anthony Kinsella and not pleaded in vain. Anthony, against all advice, had consented to take him in the place of Stair. There was no lack of criticism on the mistaken weakness of Kim.

"The fellow's a waster--"

"He will only be a drag--he's a good-for-nothing!"

"He's dopey now--lost in pipe dreams."

"And he rides fourteen stone--his horse will freck by the way."

"No, that's a mistake--he only rides eight and a half--he's all leather and bones since he took to the juice of the poppy."

I looked round for Mrs Marriott, fearing she might overhear some of these frank comments, low-spoken as they were, but she was nowhere to be seen and at that moment Anthony Kinsella came on to the court-house verandah with Colonel Blow and another man. He was smiling at some remark of the latter, but as he ran down the steps the smile fell from him and his face took on the hard, dark, hawk-like look habitual to it.

He strode in amongst the horses and seized his own. Laughter and good-byes still hung on the air, but he bade good-bye to no one; abruptly in that rough voice with a crake in it that thrilled and filled me with longing to be a man too, to spring upon a horse, and ride with him into the night, he terminated their laughter and farewells.

"Cut this short, you fellows!"

A moment later every one was in the saddle ready to start. He was the only one left standing. He stood there amongst them, suddenly still as though he had forgotten something and was trying to remember what it was; and he was staring, staring, over heads, past faces, through the scarlet rays of the sinking sun, straight into my eyes; and I was staring back into his.

We took a long, long look at one another, and I think he read all that was in my heart for him; while what I saw told me that if all the world said otherwise I was to know that Anthony Kinsella was a true man and no knave. Those straight steady eyes were never the windows of a false soul. I had given myself to no traitor and liar, but to a brave and upright man, gentle and strong and fine.

And he was going from me: only G.o.d and the old blind hag Fate knew if I should ever see him again. Mayhap this was our farewell, this pa.s.sing of hearts through the eyes; and it was not enough. Body and spirit cried out for more--a touching of hands at least. His eyes called me, dragged me; it was as though he thrust his hand into my breast and laid hold of my bare heart drawing it out towards himself, and with it me.

For I felt my feet moving--moving, and swiftly and straight I walked to him, into his open arms, and he kissed me on the lips, there before every one.

"G.o.d keep you, my heart! Wait for me--and believe in me," he said, and though his voice was low the words rang out clear and strong on the still air, for all to hear who listed. In that moment misery and distrust was wiped from my heart and from my life, as though it had never been.

An instant later all was over, he was riding ahead of his little band, away into the sunset: and the men and the children were cheering, hands were waving, hats and handkerchiefs fluttering. Cheer upon cheer rang through the air, and voices came ringing back, until they grew fainter and fainter, and at last only the far-off thud of the horses' feet was heard.