The ravine leading up the rear of the Jumbe Rock--the only way by which
its summit could be reached--though easily scaled by a pedestrian, was
not practicable for a person on horseback.
On reaching the base of the cliff the jealous equestrian dismounted,
made fast her bridle to the branch of a tree, and, after unbuckling the
little spur and removing it from her heel, continued the ascent _a
pied_.
Arrived at the summit she took her stand near the edge of the platform,
in a position that commanded an unbroken view of the mansion of Mount
Welcome, its shrubberies and surroundings.
Satisfied with the situation, she instantly commenced her
_reconnoissance_.
She did not at first make use of her _lorgnette_.
Any human figures that might be moving around the house could be seen by
the naked eye. It would be time enough to use the magnifying lens
should there be a difficulty of identifying them.
For some moments after she had taken her stand no one made appearance
near or around the dwelling. A complete tranquillity reigned over the
spot. A pet _axis_ deer skipping over the lawn, some pea-fowl moving
amidst the shrubbery of the _parterre_--their purple gorgets gaily
glittering in the sun--were the only objects animate that could be seen
near the house.
Farther off in the fields gangs of negroes were at work among the cane,
with what appeared to be a white overseer moving in their midst. These
had no interest for the observer upon the rock; and her eye, scarce
resting on them for a second, returned to scan the inclosed space
approximate to the dwelling, in the hope of there seeing something--
form, incident, or scene--that might give her some clue to the mystery
of the morning.
In respect to the former, she was not disappointed. Forms, scenes, and
incidents were all offered in succession; and though they did but little
to elucidate the enigma which had carried her to that aerial post of
observation, they had the effect of calming, to some extent, the jealous
thought that was distressing her.
First she saw a gentleman and lady step out from the house and take
their stand among the statues. At the sight she felt a slight flutter
of uneasiness; until through the _lorgnette_ she looked upon
hay-coloured hair and whiskers, enabling her to identify the owner as
Smythje. This gave her a species of contentment; and her jealous spirit
was still further tranquillised when the glass revealed to her the
features of Kate Vaughan overspread with an expression of extreme
sadness.
"Good!" muttered the delighted spy; "that tells a tale. She cannot have
seen him? Surely not, or she would not be looking so woe-begone?"
At this moment another figure was seen approaching across the _parterre_
towards the two who stood among the statues. It was that of a man in a
dark dress. Herbert Vaughan wore that colour.
With a fresh flutter of uneasiness, the _lorgnette_ was carried back to
the eye.
"Bah! it is not he. A fellow with a common face--a servant, I suppose.
Very likely the valet I've heard of! He has brought some message from
the house. Ha! they're going in again. No, only the master. She
stays. Odd enough he should leave her alone! So much for your
politeness, Mr Montagu Smeithjay!"
And, with a sneering laugh as she pronounced the name, the fair spy
again took the glass from her eye, and appeared for a moment to give way
to the gratification which she had drawn from what she had succeeded in
observing.
Certainly there were no signs of the presence of Herbert Vaughan about
the precincts of Mount Welcome, nor anything to indicate that he had had
an interview with his cousin. If so, it must have ended just as the
Jewess might have wished: since the expression observable on the
countenance of Kate showed anything but the traces of a reconciliation.
Pleased to contemplate her in this melancholy mood, her jealous rival
again raised the glass to her eye.
"Ha!" she exclaimed on the instant. "Whatever is the nigger doing in
front of the statue? She appears to be talking to it. An interesting
dialogue, I do declare! Ha! ha! ha! Perhaps she is worshipping it?
Ha! ha! She seems as much statue as it. `Patience upon a monument,
smiling'--Ha! ha! ha!"
"Ah, now," resumed the hilarious observer, still gazing through the
glass, "she turns from the statue. As I live, she is looking up this
way! She cannot see me? No, not with the naked eye. Besides, there is
only my head and hat above the edge of the rock. She won't make them
out. How steadfastly she looks this way! A smile upon her face! That,
or something like it! One might fancy she was thinking of that pretty
scene up here, the interesting tableau--Smythje on his knee. Ha! ha!
ha!"
"Ah! what now?" she continued, interrogatively; at the same time
suddenly ceasing from her laughter, as she saw the young creole adjust
the scarf over her head, and glide towards the back of the house. "What
can it mean? She appears bent on an excursion! Alone, too! Yes,
alone, as if she intended it! See! she passes the house with stealthy
step--looks towards it, as if fearing some one to come forth and
interrupt her! Through the garden!--through the gate in the wall! Ha!
she's coming up the mountain!"
As the Jewess made this observation, she stepped a pace forward upon the
rock, to gain a better view. The _lorgnette_ trembled as she held it to
her eye: her whole frame was quivering with emotion.
"Up the mountain!" muttered she. "Yes, up the mountain! And for what
purpose? To meet--Herbert Vaughan?"
A half-suppressed scream accompanied the thought: while the glass,
lowered by her side, seemed ready to fall from her fingers.
Volume Three, Chapter XIII.