In the Whirl of the Rising - BestLightNovel.com
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"I should think so. I showed him a six-shooter--I had one in each pocket--and promised to blow his head off if he didn't give me that red cap right there. Now a native is nothing if not practical, and the fact of all in Gandela being ma.s.sacred was nothing to this one if he wasn't there to see the fun, as, of course, he wouldn't be. So--he handed over the red cap. I own, though, it was rather a tense moment while he was sort of hesitating whether to do so or not."
Clare could only gasp, and stared speechless at this man, whom she had heard her brother-in-law, and others, describe as something of a coward--and of whom she, in spite of her better instincts, had thought sorely and with resentment only yesterday, by reason of what she termed to herself his 'rudeness' in flatly refusing to do what she had asked him. Good Heavens! And all the time, by his nerve and cool-headedness, he had saved her and the whole settlement from a hideous death. What a cool, masterful, resourceful brain was here.
"But, Mr Lamont," she broke forth at last, "how did you know that this awful thing was contemplated--was to happen?"
"Well, that's something of a story. I heard it among them--heard the whole scheme in all its details. Of course they don't know that, or I shouldn't be alive here, talking to you at this moment. Indeed, the amazement of the old witch-doctor at finding himself euchred imparted a comic element into a most confoundedly tragical situation."
Clare looked at him in silence. She was turning over in her mind the events of the previous day. She remembered how the fact of him appearing in a coat had been commented on as an out-of-the-way circ.u.mstance. Now it all stood explained. It was to conceal the deadly weapon wherewith he had compelled the treacherous Matabele to abandon his murderous plan. And what an awful contrast was there--that gathering, as unsuspecting and light-hearted as though in the midst of peaceful England, while not a mile away hovered a storm-cloud of bloodthirsty savages awaiting the signal to overwhelm the whole in a whirlwind of ma.s.sacre and agonising death. And this had been averted by the coolness and resolution of one man.
"You may or may not have noticed that the old ruffian was wearing two caps, a red and a white?"
"Yes, I remarked on that," said Clare. "I wondered his head didn't split."
"Well, the white cap was to be the signal that the time was not ripe. I made him throw up that, and hooray with the rest of us."
"Yes, I remember that too, and how we all laughed."
"Of course I primed him with the state of preparedness we were all in, though not seeming to be--and that there were Maxims hidden under that waggon sail instead of soda-water bottles. Good Lord, if the bar-keeper had sent his boy to get out a fresh box of the same! but he didn't, luckily."
"Yes, indeed. But what have you done about the affair, Mr Lamont? and is the old witch-doctor in prison?"
"As yet I've done nothing except come up here the first thing this morning and verify the whole affair. And I have. There are abundant traces that a large number of Matabele have occupied this ground for hours. Look at the thing you picked up--do you know what it is?"
"This?" said Clare, holding out the cow-tails on the string.
"Yes. Well, that is part of the regular war-gear. It is tied round the leg above the calf--and this thing you found forms an important '_piece de conviction_.' It is never worn when moving about in the ordinary way. Well, old Qubani is not detained, because I saw it answered my purpose best to let him go."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
A GOOD UNDERSTANDING.
"To let him go?" echoed the girl. "But--ought you not to have had him arrested as a traitor and a murderer? Good Heavens! The whole plot is too awful."
"And so I divulge it to you first, instead of to my fellow-man Orwell, R.M., or Isard, commanding the Matabeleland Mounted Police in Gandela.
Why?"
Clare looked puzzled.
"I don't know why," she said. "But it seems a dreadful responsibility."
"So I was inclined to think--in fact, very much did think--when having mapped out my plans everything seemed to conspire to smash them up.
Yourself among the said everything."
"Myself? Now, how?"
Lamont smiled that queer sour smile again.
"Why, certainly. Didn't you make a point of my entering for the tent-pegging? What would have happened if I'd won? I couldn't receive a prize by deputy. Didn't you want me to help you and your sister, what time to have left the side of our worthy and reverend magician would have been fatal?"
"Yes. I did that," said Clare penitently. "But, Mr Lamont, how on earth could I have foreseen that anything of the kind was brewing?"
"No, you couldn't. I'm not blaming you, you understand, no, not for a moment."
What was this? Not blaming her? Blaming _her_! Clare Vidal was not accustomed to be 'blamed' any more than to have her requests refused, especially in this land where there were not even enough women to go round, as she was fond of putting it. She was wondering what awful and scathing rejoinder she would have made to any man who should have ventured on such a remark to her a day or two ago. Yet to this one, lounging back there with one elbow resting on a big cold stone, lighting his pipe, she had no thought of scathing rejoinder. She was all aglow with admiration of his nerve and self-reliance.
"Then there was a bore of a fellow--Jim Steele--who was rather screwed, and wanted me to fight him, silly a.s.s! Of course I wasn't going to do that there, under any circ.u.mstances, but he--and the other idiots who thought I was afraid of him--little dreamt how they were trying to dig their own graves. For our worthy schemer Qubani would have thought me grotesque with a swelled eye, and you are bound to sustain some such damage in a rough-and-tumble with a big powerful devil like Steele. It was important then that Qubani should not think me grotesque."
"Yes, I know. I've heard about that affair. There's very little that doesn't get round to us, in a small place like this, Mr Lamont. And you told him you'd meet him later--I know all about it, you see. Well, you mustn't. It's not at all worthy of grown men to act like a lot of overgrown schoolboys. It's undignified."
"Oh, I very much more than quite agree with you there. But then I promised the chap. Now, how can I go back on a promise?"
More than ever now did her brother-in-law's insinuations with regard to this man come back to Clare. And it struck her that he did not plead that cowardice might be imputed to him if he failed--only that having made a promise he ought to keep it. "He isn't a bad chap at bottom, Jim Steele," went on Lamont, "except when he's squiffy, and then he gets quarrelsome. Probably he'll have forgotten all about everything by the time he wakes, or if not will recognise that he's made an a.s.s of himself."
"I should hope so, indeed. But we are getting away from the witch-doctor. Why did you let him go?"
"Instinct, pure instinct. Natives are queer animals, and you don't always know quite how to take them. If we had kept old Qubani, the towns.h.i.+p might have been rushed this very night. By turning him loose, full up with what I told him--well the move is justified by results, or you and I would not be talking together up here comfortably at this moment. Now this one has taken on a sort of respect for me--they do that, you know. I asked him what he thought would happen if I gave away for what purpose he was there. He wilted at that. Then I told him I gave him his life, and he must not be less generous. He talked round and round for a little, then said that I had better begin to move with my things at a time of the moon I reckoned out at somewhere about a fortnight hence. So now you see why I want you to get Fullerton to take you in to Buluwayo."
"But, he won't do it. He might if you were to put it to him."
"That's just when he wouldn't. You know what they'd say, Miss Vidal 'Lamont's got 'em again'--meaning the funks."
This was said with little bitterness, rather with a sort of tolerant contempt. Clare felt ashamed as she remembered all the remarks to which she had listened, reflecting on this man's courage, and all because he did not take kindly to some low, pothouse brawl. She kindled.
"How can anyone say such a thing--such a wicked thing--when you have saved the whole settlement from ma.s.sacre?"
"Oh, that wouldn't count. To begin with, they wouldn't believe what I've just been telling you--would say I'd invented it. They'll believe it fast enough in a week or two's time though. By the way, it was the sight of old Qubani and his red cap that made me miss that last tilt at the peg, and a good thing I did miss it. Providential, as Father Mathias would say."
"Father Mathias? Have you seen him lately?" said Clare.
"We travelled part of the way together when I was coming back from Lyall's. We were caught in a nasty dry thunderstorm and took refuge in Zwabeka's kraal. It was there I overheard that nice little conspiracy."
"And so you travelled with Father Mathias?" said Clare. "I hope you were nice to him. He is a great friend of ours."
"Nice to him, Miss Vidal?" answered Lamont, raising his brows as if amused at the question. "Why not? He is a very nice man. Why should I be other than nice to him?"
"Oh, I don't know. Except that--well, he is a priest."
"What then? Oh, I see what you mean. But I have no prejudice against priests. On the contrary--my experience of them is that they are kindly, tolerant men, very self-sacrificing and with considerable knowledge of human nature. When you've said that, it follows that they are almost invariably good company. This one was decidedly so. Why on earth should I not be 'nice' to him?"
"Oh well, you know--you Protestants do have prejudices of the kind," she answered somewhat lamely.
"But I am not a Protestant."
"Not a Protestant? I don't quite understand."
"Certainly not I don't protest against anything or anybody. I believe in compet.i.tion, and if the Catholic Church were to capture this country, or England, or the entire world for that matter, I should reckon that the very fact of doing so would be to establish its claim to the right to do so."