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The Claw Part 24

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"I'm going to fix up Mrs Marriott under that tree with books and cushions, and then I suppose we'd better help get the dinner ready."

"Well, let me help, won't you?" she begged.

"Of course."

Mrs Marriott had really become most alarmingly fragile of late. She had grown amazingly young and pretty, it is true, but her clear skin looked almost too transparent, and there were big dark shadows under her eyes that threw them up and made them look perfectly lovely--but shadows _are_ shadows, and the fact remains that however becoming, they are not at all necessary to health. Secretly I was anxious about her; but no one else seemed to have noticed any change except the wonderful one in her spirits and looks. To-day, it might have been the consciousness that she was looking extremely pretty in a white dress Mrs Rookwood had made for her, but she was actually humming a little tune, and she remonstrated laughingly when I insisted that she should rest out of the heat and not think of coming to help get the dinner.

"You're just trying to make a molly-coddle of me," she said, "and yourself so indispensable that I shan't be able to do without you ever again. I know your little arts."



However, she was finally beguiled to do as I told her, and when she was comfortably fixed up Mrs Rookwood and I waited on her with breakfast--a cup of delicious coffee, and a hot b.u.t.tered rusk.

Afterwards enormous preparations for dinner began to go forward. The hour of three thirty in the afternoon having been fixed upon, such boys as were available were _inspanned_ to the task of collecting fuel and making big fires at a certain distance from the camp on account of the smoke. Others were set to work to scoop out ant-heaps and turn them into red-hot ovens for the reception of pastry and roast meats. These impromptu Dutch ovens turn out wonderfully light bread and are splendid for pastry.

Plenty of cold delicacies had been provided for the picnic, but the Port George women had vowed that after so long a fast from nice meals every one should have a real hot Christmas dinner. So the ovens were prepared for rounds of beef, many chickens, mince pies, custards, and cakes. We found that they had arranged and allotted all the tasks among themselves, but they had included Mrs Rookwood amongst them, at which she could not conceal her pride and grat.i.tude. But me they told to go away and play and incidentally to mind Mrs Marriott and keep an eye on the children. So we romped with the children first, then roamed about exploring the rocky kopjes, digging out fern roots for home planting, gathering flowers and looking at the Bushmen drawings of which there were several under the overhanging ledges of the biggest rock. Queer looking things they were--the men drawn like skeletons with all their ribs and bones showing, driving long, lean cattle that had the bodies of cows and the heads of horses, or shooting wild buck with bows and arrows. They say these drawings which are often seen in Mashonaland have been there for centuries, preserved and kept fresh because they are sheltered under the eaves of the rocks from sun and rain.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

DEFEAT CALLS.

"Do we think Victory great? And so it is.

But now it seems to me, when it cannot be helped, That Defeat is great, and Death and Dismay are great!"

At twelve o'clock Colonel Blow and Maurice Stair and a number of men who had not been able to get away any earlier arrived, and the children went off to hail them and help get them some refreshment.

Mrs Marriott and I sat down under one of the great rocks on a lounge of cool moss, glad to get out of the grilling sunshine for a while. It was not long before we began to speak of what was uppermost in our minds-- our men at the front. I said:

"I don't know what your husband will say to you looking so fragile. I shall have to feed you up and make you plump before he arrives."

Impulsively she leaned towards me and took hold of my hands. Her face was suffused with colour.

"Deirdre, you have been so good to me, and I must tell you, though I meant to keep it a secret. This looking fragile doesn't really matter-- it is natural." She paused, then added softly, "It is part of the state of my coming motherhood."

"Oh!" I cried at last. "How beautiful and wonderful for you, dear!

And how glad I am!"

She looked at me shyly and gravely.

"Yes: it _is_ beautiful, Deirdre. But I did not always think so. I knew it long ago, before Rupert went, and it seemed to me then like the last bitter drop in a most bitter cup. Now everything is altered. You and Anthony Kinsella have changed the face of life for him and for me."

"No, no! You have done it yourselves, dear. Your husband's fine effort had to be made by himself; no one but one's self can do these things.

One must fight for one's own soul. You know:

"'Ye have no friend but Resolution!'"

"Yes, but if Anthony Kinsella had not given him his chance he would never have broken away from--Don't I know? Oh, G.o.d! Did not I pray and watch and fight for him?--and afterwards _watch him drop back_? Oh, Deirdre, no one can ever know the awful things that pa.s.sed before hope died in me--that frightful drug rearing its hideous head between us like a great beast! You cannot imagine what it means to a woman to see not only the body but the soul of the man she loves being devoured before her eyes, while she stands looking on--helpless! And then after a time--it is all part of the hideous enslavement--he began to hate me for looking on at his degradation!"

Her face became anguished even at the recollection. I held her hands tightly, but I looked away from her eyes, and we were silent for a while, but presently she went on:

"And your share in it has been great, Deirdre. Without your help I could never have pulled myself out of the pit of despair and desolation into which I had fallen. My spirit was in fetters: but you have helped me to break them--and now I feel strong enough and brave enough for whatever comes. I have a heart for any fate. We have a big fight before us still, I know. Rupert has gone back in his profession all this time that he has done nothing, thought nothing. It will be uphill work getting back to where he was before--and we've only a tiny income-- and he may be tempted again. But, oh! how I mean to fight for my happiness, Deirdre. And I _know_ that I shall win."

I could only press her hand tightly, and keep back my own tears. She looked such a delicate little thing to put up such a big fight. It seemed to me at that moment that the battle-field of life was a cruel and hard place for women, and their reward for battles won, all too pitiful. We sat a long time in silence.

At last we were aroused by a great hooting and tooting and banging of pans and tin plates from the direction of the camp. The significance of these sounds and also the odours of baked meats that were beginning to suffuse the veldt, could not be misunderstood. We returned to camp and dinner.

Mrs Burney had her best damask table-cloths spread in line on the level gra.s.s, and Mrs Rookwood had decorated the snowy expanse with trails of wild smilax and jasmine, and jam-jars full of scarlet lilies and maidenhair fern. We sat down to a banquet of unparalleled splendour, of which I cannot now remember all the details, but only that they were opulent and luxurious and kingly. Afterwards every one had a gla.s.s of some delightful champagne that had been unearthed from the cellars of Hunloke and Dennison, and Colonel Blow ceremoniously arose and asked us to drink the health of the Queen, and we drank, standing.

Then Captain Clinton jumped up again with his gla.s.s in the air and called for toasts to Mr Rhodes and Dr Jim, and those we drank uproariously. Afterwards we sat very quiet for a moment, and only the children's voices were heard. Colonel Blow got up again and a hush fell upon us all. Some of the women began to bite their lips, to keep themselves from crying, and Mrs Shand, who had been one of the brightest and gayest of the party all day, suddenly leaned against Saba Rookwood's shoulder and began to sob.

"I ask you to drink to those who cannot be with us here to-day--because they are attending to our business elsewhere--our fellows at the front!"

Across the table-cloth Annabel Cleeve and I stared at each other dry-eyed.

"Here's to their speedy and safe return!" cried Captain Clinton, holding his gla.s.s aloft so that the wine shone and sparkled in the sunshine like liquid topaz. "Now you kids give three tremendous cheers for them, and maybe they'll hear the echoes in Buluwayo."

That saved the situation. The men's strong "Hurrahs!" mingling with the children's cheery voices, rang and echoed among the rocks and hills.

Emotion was pushed out of sight once more, and faces became calm. It appeared too that Colonel Blow had not finished the giving of toasts.

He got up once again, his face wreathed in smiles.

"And I want you all to drink the health," he began, "of some one here who has been the sunshine of our darkest days, and the brightest star of many a weary night; who has minded the babies and made coffee for the patrol boys, and generally kept us all from dying of sheer boredom and hatred of life just by her lovely presence amongst us. I am sure you all know who I mean."

I'm sure _I_ didn't. I stared round the table in astonishment, and to see what the others were thinking of this unlooked-for enthusiasm on the part of the usually sedate and sensible Commandant. Was he dreaming, or was he infatuated with one of the women, and simply drivelling about her? I had never noticed him paying any special attention to any one-- he always seemed to be so busy. Anyway, I felt quite annoyed about it, and especially cross about the babies, whom I had looked upon as my own particular loves. He raised his gla.s.s on high.

"I drink to Miss Deirdre Saurin!"

"And drink it on the table!" someone shouted, and every one got up once more and put a dirty boot on Mrs Burney's nice table-cloth and made a tremendous noise, while I stared at them. When I realised what they were saying I went hot with vexation and embarra.s.sment, for I felt sure they were making fun of me.

"Respond! Respond!" they cried all round me.

"I never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life," I said crossly.

"And utterly uncalled for." I threw Colonel Blow a glance of the utmost indignation. "I think you want to make every one hate me!" I said.

He merely shouted with laughter.

"Oh, I know I'm a wonder, but I couldn't do that," he said, and to my amazement the women all rushed at me and hugged me and made me feel as hot and stuffy and cross as possible.

When I say all, I don't of course mean that the Salisbury women did anything of the kind. Miracles do not happen in modern times. But I was not surprised that they got up in a group and strolled off sniffing disdainfully. The whole thing was ridiculous and absurd.

"You've quite spoiled my day," I said to Colonel Blow afterwards. He insisted upon taking me to see some wonderful drawings on a rode which he said only he and one other man knew about; and when we got there they were the same old drawings Mrs Marriott and I had been looking at in the morning. So we sat on top of the rock and I continued my upbraidings.

"Of course it was very kind of you and all that, and I dare say you meant well--but I never felt more uncomfortable in my life, and I cannot say I feel the least bit grateful to you. I made sure you were talking about some woman you had fallen in love with and expected every one else to do the same," I continued in my most unpleasant voice.

"Well, so I was," he had the effrontery to say. "But of course I know there is no hope for me."

I stared at him coldly. I really did not feel disposed for any more jesting. But his face had not the ghost of a smile on it, and he continued quite gravely:

"I saw you kiss Kinsella the night he went, and of course I understood that a girl like you would not have done that except for one reason. So it can be of no use my telling you that I love you. Yet I want to tell you if you don't mind, and to call you Deirdre once. May I, Deirdre?"

I really don't remember what I said, but I was frightfully surprised and sorry. I don't believe I said anything. Perhaps I sat and stared at him with my mouth open. I only know that we came out of it sworn friends.

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The Claw Part 24 summary

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