The Shadow of the Past Part 17

"You say you are not wilfully a.s.sisting in sowing seeds of discord throughout the Union, yet you admit being in the pay of a man who has carried on this devil's work for years. One day we will reap the harvest; and the result will be that brother will be against brother, friend against friend. A b.l.o.o.d.y civil war is not a pleasant thing to contemplate. Think well before you meddle again in what you don't understand. I will give you a message to bear to your friend, Mr Holmann: tell him from me that he is a d.a.m.ned scoundrel."

"I shall probably have a similar message to deliver to him on my own account," Matheson answered. "I am obliged to you for enlightening me.

And I can only say that I hope you believe me when I give you my word of honour that I had not the remotest suspicion of what you have informed me. I'm amazed. Of course, I've heard the Kriges' story; I know they feel bitterly towards the British. But I imagined they voiced a quite insignificant minority."

"They voice a minority--but not insignificant. Mostly this madness--for it is madness--shows itself among the most ignorant of the backveld Boers, in whom racial prejudice dies hard. They are not properly civilised, these men. They want freedom--freedom from taxation, from laws, and restraints. They are of the pioneer breed. They make good trekkers, but they don't submit kindly to government. The men who lead them know better; but they are actuated by jealousy and hate. They are mad with hate, just mad; and a madman who isn't under restraint is a danger to the population."

With surprising suddenness Nel's face softened wonderfully, the anger died out of his eyes.

"I get carried away," he said apologetically. "I feel strongly, Mr Matheson. This matter is the one subject of dissension between me and my brother. Cornelius, like Lot's wife, cannot look forward because some evil influence impels him always to turn back towards the shadow of the past."

He put out a hand as though he waved the subject aside, and returned to his neglected duty as host.

"Come!" he said. "You are not eating. You mustn't starve yourself because I talk too much."

He pa.s.sed the plate of biltong to his visitor and helped himself at the same time.

"The best guarantee that I accept your word that you acted in ignorance," he said presently, "is that I have spoken as freely as I have. If you would, you could help largely in counteracting the evil influences that are working to undermine the peace of this country."

He paused; and Matheson, looking up to inquire in what way he could be useful, discovered the searching eyes scrutinising him anew with disconcerting attentiveness. He laughed quietly.

"I don't believe you are very sure of me yet," he said.

"Oh! yes, I am... as sure as a man can be of another whom he knows so slightly. What I would say to you is, go back--you can do no good here--go back, and help to instil in the minds of your own countrymen a feeling of greater kindliness towards the Dutch. The racial bitterness is not all on our side. A little forbearance, a more generous spirit-- what you call fair play, will lead to a better understanding. I believe that under tactful and sympathetic conditions of government the spirit of rebellion which exists to-day, which will exist for some time while men turn to look back at that shadow of the past, will eventually die out; and the union of the two white races in South Africa will become cemented. The prosperous future of the country depends on that. It is one camp; there must be no enemies in it."

His mouth lifted at the corners humorously.

"This farm is an example of dissension in the camp," he said. "I build myself a rondavel, with a rope ladder leading to the roof which I can draw up after me. When we have eaten I will show you. No one knows of that retreat. I have kept my secret; then, when I do not wish to be found, I climb into my secret chamber, and they look for me in vain. My rondavel has a double roof."

Matheson looked up with surprise at the innocent-looking gra.s.s roof, while Nel observed him smilingly.

"A child with a toy!--eh, Mr Matheson?" he said. "I was just a big boy when I planned my house."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Nel showed something of the disposition of a boy when later he revealed to Matheson the secret of his rondavel. He fixed his rope ladder to a beam in the roof, mounted, and, removing a part of the thatch, disappeared into the obscurity beyond through the opening he had made.

For a moment his face showed in the opening, smiling down on Matheson, who stood below watching the proceedings with interest.

"Follow me," he said. "It is quite s.p.a.cious up here, but somewhat hot.

And there are c.o.c.kroaches."

Matheson swarmed up the ladder after him, and thrust his head and shoulders through the opening and looked about him. It was difficult to see anything in the gloom, but after a while he made out Nel's figure seated with the shoulders against the thatch. It was not possible to stand upright; the room at its highest point was not above five feet; but there was s.p.a.ce enough for three or four persons to sit with ease, and a certain amount of ventilation came through holes in the gra.s.s roof.

"One would not perhaps use it for a sitting-room," Nel said; "but it is a good hiding place."

"Excellent," Matheson replied. "No one would suppose, judging from the exterior, that there was s.p.a.ce enough between the roof for a room like this. It's deceptive from below."

"Yes. I decided on a high roof for coolness, and the double thatch for the same reason. It was an afterthought to make use of the s.p.a.ce between. I planned this loft, and elaborated it until it developed into my secret chamber. The movable thatch and rope ladder I made myself. I will ask you to descend now. It would not distress me if Miss Krige surprised my secret, but I would not have it generally known."

Matheson, as he observed Nel unhitch his ladder and fold it up and thrust it inside a chest which stood on the floor, realised that this display of confidence was Herman Nel's way of showing that he trusted him, that he accepted his word as to his ignorance of the nature of the enterprise he had so heedlessly embarked upon. It was a practical proof of faith in his future discretion.

They resumed their seats and discussed South African politics and the future of the country, until the arrival of Honor, with Cornelius, his wife, and the baby, broke up their talk.

Mrs Nel was a heavily made woman, dark complexioned and far from handsome. Cornelius had married her for no physical attraction, but for the many domestic qualities for which she was justly renowned. The baby was not handsome either; but it was good, and in Cornelius' opinion a good baby was preferable to a pretty baby. He, himself, was rather like his brother, only taller and more stoutly built.

Matheson was introduced, and the newcomers shook hands.

"Why did you not come to my house?" asked Cornelius. "My wife and I would have been very pleased."

Matheson explained that the rondavel had interested him, that Mr Herman Nel had kindly invited him to breakfast, and he had been glad to accept Mrs Nel laughed when he finished speaking.

"Ach! Herman lives like the Kaffirs," she said. "There is never anything to eat by his house. You will be hungry just now."

"Indeed, we fared sumptuously," Matheson answered.

"And we have not finished," Herman Nel put in. "We are about to taste some of your very good meiboss. Come and join us."

Mrs Nel took some meiboss, and allowed the baby to suck a small piece, which it did with considerable enjoyment. She listened complacently to the general appreciation of this delicious preserve which she made according to a recipe that had been in the family for generations. Mrs Nel's meiboss was unrivalled.

"Lekker!" she said to the baby. "It is lekker, eh?"

She put her fingers in the jar and drew out another piece. For the first time since she had entered Honor looked in Matheson's direction, looked with a quick gleam of hostility in her eyes, as though expecting to detect in his expression something of the amus.e.m.e.nt she believed he experienced at the Nels' expense. His steady gaze as it met hers disarmed her resentment. If it was a little unusual to thrust one's fingers into a jar the contents of which others were sharing, it was a practice for which a precedent could be claimed. He helped himself from the jar and pa.s.sed it to Honor.

"Jolly good stuff," he said. "I don't know when I have tasted anything half so good. Made with apricots... They'd like this in England."

Mrs Nel proceeded to ply him with elucidatory questions about England.

"It is always raining there," she announced by way of comment.

"The sun is to be seen on occasions," he returned. "Also cases of heat apoplexy have been known. Still, it is drier on the Karroo."

"Ach, the Karroo! Generally we have a drought here. One wishes the Lord had distributed things more evenly. But no doubt. He had His reasons. It would not be well for us to have everything as we would like."

The conversation hung after that, until Herman Nel revived it by a discussion of the various accepted methods for raising water: he put forward certain projects of his own in this connexion which Cornelius and Matheson disposed of as impractical. Cornelius was inclined to accept the drought, as the unenlightened Boer accepts scab and other evils, as a visitation of Providence which it would be futile as well as impious to attempt to evade. He was a fairly prosperous man, but the profitable working of the farm was largely owing to the more energetic younger brother, whose keener intelligence and sound judgment co-operated successfully with the other's undoubted skill in, and knowledge of, all branches of farming. Cornelius disapproved of many of his brother's advanced, and what he termed English, ideas; but he was quick to appreciate the advantage when he reaped a profitable return on them. He was shrewd enough to recognise that alone he could not have achieved the prosperity he enjoyed.

The conversation shifted from wells to motor-cars. This convenient means of transport had found its way on to many farms. It linked up scattered districts and decreased distances enormously. Herman Nels spoke of getting a car, but his brother, and his brother's wife, opposed the idea energetically.

"My! I would never trust myself in one of those things," Mrs Nel declared emphatically, unconscious that her decision was in her brother-in-law's opinion an argument in favour of the thing she depreciated. "It was never intended that we should rush through the air like that."

"And yet there is the railway," Matheson reminded her.

"Ach! the railway has its uses. But it does a lot of damage. Do you remember, Cornelius, when a spark from the engine fired your good trucks loaded with forage? And the Government would give no compensation, because no one actually saw the spark that set it alight come from the engine. As though it could have been fired any other way! Ach ne! the railway is no good. The Lord gave us oxen for beasts of burden."

"A bit slow in the going, aren't they?" Matheson suggested.

"Those who travel slowly travel surely," she answered conclusively.

"I would like a car if we could afford one," Honor said. "But nothing is so good as a horse." She looked at Matheson, and added: "We ought to be mounting."

He rose promptly, and a general move followed. When he was on his feet Cornelius delivered himself of the weighty reflections which had kept him silent during the recent discussion.