REJOICING
When I was going home that night, a very strange thing befell me, which
but for the mercy of Providence would have left me nothing more to say.
Although there had been very little chance of making sweet speeches to
Dariel, because her father would not leave the room, yet her rich clear
voice thrilled through me so that I scarcely knew what I was doing, and
resolved to put all upon the cast at once, rather than flutter, and
quiver, and tremble till some swaggering foreigner rushed in.
Modest I was; and think no harm to confess it, having never had chance
to grow out of it, by any fat manuring while my roots were young. Humble
I was; and who would not be so, unless he were fool enough not to know
the difference between a mere hulking clodpole and the exquisite
perfection of the Maker's finest work? Timid too I may have been; and
who can be surprised, when even a stockbroker trembled at our Grace? But
as for my being a jelly-fish, could any such creature have done what I
did? I held the hand of my darling as long as I dared at the corner of
the passage, when her father was looking for a lantern, and I said with
an audacity which frightened me as soon as I had time to think of it,
"To-morrow I must know my fate. Will you be in the chapel, about three
o'clock? Or any time, any time; I will wait for hours."
"What can make you ask me such a thing?" she answered, and I said,
"Don't you know, Dariel?" And she drew back, and whispered, "I will
try--if my father has no objection."
Now it was the thought of this that sent me in a most exalted yet
highly disordered condition of mind upon my homeward course. If order is
heaven's first law, as some one says, the entire code must be suspended
when the human race is in its most heavenly state. To me the earth was
nothing; and the stars alone and the distant sublimity of the sky had
any claim of kindred. Leaving _Bess_ (who was very tired) to the care of
Stepan, with a careless toss I flung my gun upon my right shoulder, and
strode forth into the darkness.
Suddenly, as I was marching on a ridge of moorland about half a mile
from the camp, I received a most shocking whack under the right ear, as
if somebody had struck me with a big hockey-stick; and at the same
moment a flash of broad fire started up, and then a roar from a clump of
bushes just beneath me. How I saved myself from falling is more than I
can tell, for I staggered very heavily, and my head went round.
I cannot remember at all what I did, much less what I thought in this
frightful amazement, though afterwards I tried to make it out more
clearly. But I must have kept hold of my gun, although my right hand was
jarred and tingling with it, and then I must have leaped into the bushy
hollow, without time enough to realise the peril. And I shouted, which
was a most stupid thing to do; but I know that I shouted, because one of
the first things that fetched me to myself was the sound of my own
voice. But there was no one for me to lay hold of, or to let drive at
with the butt of my gun. The place was all silent and empty, and I saw a
great star shining through the naked twigs from the crown of the ridge I
had been crossing, and I knew that I had been shot at by the advantage
of that star.
To the inhabitants of a lawless country this may be little to dwell
upon; but never having been among such crooked lines of action, I knew
not what to make of it. My blood ran cold at the enormity of the thing;
but without further reasoning I pulled out a brace of cartridges, which
I ought to have done before entering the hollow, and slipped them into
my old breechloader. Then I found that the right hammer would not move,
and began to perceive what had happened. There was no time to go into
that question now. With the left hammer cocked, and the muzzle level and
ready for a snap-shot--though probably my nerve would have failed me at
a fellow-creature--I searched every yard of the thicket, and then the
gully which led to a little watercourse below. The night, having only
that big star to help it, was so dark and baffling that a dozen men
might have slipped away without leaving me any the wiser; and the only
trace vouchsafed to me was a rustle of some bushes at the bottom of the
slope where a hedge ran along. At this I brought my gun to my shoulder,
for I might just have peppered a man down there, and that would have
been a caution to him. However, on second thoughts, I did not fire, for
by this time I was quite cool again, and the blaze might have brought
another bullet at me before I could pop another cartridge in. So I
marked the spot very carefully, and hurried home with gratitude.
And truly, when I had lighted both my candles, and taken a good draught
of ale to refresh me, I perceived that my escape had been marvellous,
and I knelt down and thanked God for it; though I have never been able,
as many persons are, to believe myself the main shareholder of Divine
protection. A heavy bullet had been fired at me with accuracy
undeniable. And it must have dropped me as dead as a stone, passing
upward into my poor brain, if my own good trusty gun had not been on my
shoulder. Happily for me the lead had struck the lock-plate just above
the trigger, and failing to enter the steel of course, had glanced
upward and passed through the brim of my hat, cutting a groove in the
crown as well, but touching never a hair of my head. My right ear was
red as a radish from the jar of the stock against it, and the spring and
tumblers of the lock were jammed; but I soon put them to right again.
What cowardly and cold-blooded miscreant could thirst for the life of a
harmless, quiet, and unpretentious fellow thus? No enemy had I, to the
best of my knowledge, in all the wide world, for the simple reason that
I never wronged, insulted, or looked down upon anybody; and whenever I
could not get on with a man, I let him go his way, while I went
mine--unless he brought a pole across my shins; and even then, if he was
sorry, I forgave him. But one thing was very clear to my mind, when I
had lighted an eager pipe, and dwelt on it (sliding along the gentle
slope, where a blue cloud routs black vapours), that no Englishman ever
would have crawled like that, to pot a brother Englishman.
Then I thought of the sneaking shot from the gun of Rakhan which had
killed Sûr Dadian, when he was returning full of joy to his ancestral
castle; and the thing became almost as plain to me as if the sunlight
had been poured on it. Captain Strogue would never have done it; a bravo
he might be, but not a Thug--if there is any meaning in any man's eyes.
But the tall dark fellow, that son of Rakhan who would not come up to
look at me, Hafer, who was come to fetch Sûr Imar, he was the miscreant
who tried to shoot me.
Sometimes I have a deep vein of discretion, though nobody else perceives
it, and I always feel myself below my proper level, when I work it. But
a man who has just escaped foul murder by a hair's breadth, and may meet
the like to-morrow with the turn of the hair against him, must--unless
he is weary of his life--take some thought of his actions. And I felt by
no means weary of my life, but kindly and warmly in love with it, when
certain glances made it sparkle, like a dewdrop in the morning. Not a
word must I say to any one about that dastardly attempt, unless it were
to the faithful Stepan, who might cast some light upon it. He had warned
me; perhaps he knew that some one longed to do away with me. He would
take it as the natural outcome of my intimacy at the camp; and now he
approved of "milord's" suit, and urged him to put more steam on.
Probably he knew why those two villains had lain in wait for poor Allai,
and were trying by torture to make a traitor of him. And Stepan had
clearly some reason of his own for keeping his master in the dark about
it. Moreover, he was struggling with the English language, manifestly
for my benefit. With this resolution I went to bed, and dreamed neither
of thickets, nor bullets, nor bravoes, nor anything else that was nasty;
but only of sweet Dariel singing the song of the stork like a
nightingale, and coming with white wings to my window, where I caught
her with a pair of reins.
By this time Grace was in such a state of mind about her noble
stockbroker, that brother George might have fifty holes in his hat, or
in his head almost, without the loving sister coming to brush, or darn,
or even poultice them. Of this I made no grievance, but went so far as
to be unaware of it; and when her conscience began to work, I showed her
that I had bought a thimble, and she called me a heartless molly-coddle.
"Never mind. There are better girls than you who can appreciate me," I
answered with a superior smile, and she flew into a passion. Such is
feminine jealousy. They want to love some new-comer better, yet we are
not to know it, or to feel the difference.
Most heartily I wished poor Jackson Stoneman only half as good a bargain
as he fancied he had made of it; for the blindness of a man in love is
to others quite ridiculous. And I knew that although Grace was blessed
with many of the merits he had inspired her with, no one else could
think her fit to hold a candle to Dariel. Yet for the world I did not
wish to hear any one praise my darling, unless it were her father or
myself; for it was our business only.
Upon my way to the sacred place where my destiny was to be settled,
being much before my time, and longing to divert my mind (which made my
legs feel trembling), I turned aside to search the covert which had so
nearly proved my doom in the darkness of the night gone by. If I had
been as nervous then as now, nothing could have saved me, for the shock
of the blow must have thrown me down, and the enemy would have leaped up
and dispatched me. Even as I had been full of glorious thoughts, and
striding in full pride of strength, probably I should have lost my
balance, if my left foot had been foremost. And now in the broad
daylight I was half afraid to examine the dingle. But I had brought my
gun, that loyal friend, now as fit for work as ever, and both barrels
loaded with duck-shot. If that miscreant's gun had been loaded so--but
those thundering villains are no sportsmen.
At once I discovered the place where he had crouched, and a comfortable
lair he had made of it, less than twelve yards from the path by which
he expected me. But the ground being strewn with leaves, wherever it was
not covered with grass or tangle, no footprints could be descried,
either there or further down the dingle; and I was at the point of
abandoning my search, when a little brown disk, like a piece of stamped
leather, attracted my attention. It was hanging on some twigs about a
yard from the ground, in a line between the lurking-place and the spot
where I had been when the bullet staggered me, and at first I took it
for a large, thick leaf. And a leaf it was, but not of any tree or shrub
that I had ever met with; and I perceived that it was streaked with
black, and smelled very strongly of gunpowder. Beyond any doubt, it had
been used as a patch or wrapping for the leaden ball that was meant to
send me to another world, and parts of it were scorched or singed by the
explosion. I could even see the impress of the iron cap belonging to the
heavy ramrod, by which it had been driven down the rifle-barrel, and on
the other side might be traced the convexity of the bullet which had
been enclosed. What leaf could this be? It was thicker and tougher than
any English leaf I knew, as well as different in shape and texture.
Tearing a fibre from the cleanest part I laid it on my tongue, and was
surprised by a strong and peculiar aroma. After packing it carefully in
a letter from Tom Erricker which happened to be in my pocket, I went on
my way towards the ruins of the chapel, having made up my mind to
inquire at Kew, where I knew a noble botanist, what tree was likely to
produce that leathery and spicy foliage.
But this and every other thought of things around me and of myself were
far from any mind of mine,--if mind at all remained to me,--as I sat
upon an ancient stone begirt with fern and lycopod, and sandalled with
soft moss rosetted here and there with ivy braids. All such things are
soothing; and there also seemed to be a tranquil air, proceeding from
the memory of holy monks, who never pretended to be better than they
were, because they saw no need of it. Hereupon I began to fear, as a few
dead leaves went by me, that I should not have appointed this cold and
holy spot for speaking of a turbulent affair like love. But, without
another word, I was strengthened greatly; the very argument against me
took my part. True love is a sacred thing, as the Lord Himself ordained
it; and a place of ancient reverence, with the sky alone to roof it,
suited well for that which is the loftiest of the human state.
Perhaps the maiden had some thoughts a little like my own, but better,
larger, and less tumultuous. I was not in a fit condition to know
exactly what she did; and I even pretended to know less than eyes and
heart brought home to me. I only knew that she was there, and for a
little time I felt afraid to wish for any more than that.
She, to my delight and glory, trembled, and tried to look away, as if
she shared my fear, but begged me to let it go on a little longer. Then,
as I caught her hand, and raised it very gently and reverently, good
manners compelled her to show surprise, and to cast an inquiring glance
at me. "Don't go," I said. "If you only knew--but I never shall be able
to make you know."
"It would not be right for me to go, when my father ordered me to come."
"Because he knows why. And he gave me leave to say what you know
already. Oh, Dariel, what is the good of talking? You know all about it.
Ever since that blessed moment, when I first caught sight of you----"
"Through the bushes and across the water? Or was it when you saved
_Kuban's_ life?" She looked at me very gravely, as if the time made all
the difference.
"Both, both; and a thousand times since. And it must go on for ever. You
can't understand it; of course you can't. But I can understand nothing
else. Oh, Dariel, don't be hard upon me. I know that you are the wonder
of the world, and that I am nothing but a very common fellow, not half
so worthy to look at you as the short-eared owls in your ivy----"
"I am very fond of owls," said Dariel; "they are the wisest of all
birds. But I never saw them sit and look at me."
"Then they are fools, and I'll do it for them for ever. But oh, if I
could only make you see for a moment how I love you! Don't laugh at me,
Dariel. Don't do that."
"I am sure that I never laughed at all. How can you think that I would
be so wicked? But I will confess, if that will be quite sufficient,
that I think--that I have been persuaded considerably, Mr. Cranleigh,
that you--that you like me."
"Like you, Dariel! what a wretched word! Can you look at me, and fancy
it no more than that?" But she would not be taken at any disadvantage;
though she turned one ear towards me a little--as if ears could hold no
agency for heart or lips or eyes.
"Now listen to me for a moment," I said, creeping close to that ear,
which was a masterpiece of shell-work, and filigree curves, and chasing;
"tell me--just say--have a little kindness, say whether you think you
could ever like me."
"Yes, I will say; I will not conceal. I think that I could like you very
well; because--because----"
"Because what, Dariel? That I may do it again, and go on doing it for
ever."
"Because, because--it is just for this reason," all the glory of her
eyes flashed on me, "because you are so much afraid of me."
"Am I?" In a moment she was in my arms, and I had the sweetest revenge
ever known for an imputation of cowardice. And she, whether carried away
by my love, or by her own sweet gratitude, looked at me with a glow of
light, like the gates of heaven opening, and drew me into fresh ecstasy,
and whispered, "Do you love me?"
Such a time is the date of life, for ever to be dwelt upon; but never
spoken of, unless it be with the only one who shared it. And I would
never have touched upon it, but left all those to take it home, who in
their time have been so blessed; unless I were bound to let them see how
much I had to go upon, in my obstinacy afterwards. Dariel loved me! Who
was I, to be rapt by such a miracle? And who of mankind should take it
from me, as long as the heavens continued?
"Let us kneel, and thank the Lord," my darling said, with coy reproach
of my impetuous transport; "here where first you saw me, George. If He
has meant us for one another, He will be vexed if we do not thank Him."
I followed her to the place that once had been of holy rite, and there
she took my hand, and knelt upon the plinth of the old sanctuary, and
made the sign of the Cross upon her breast and forehead, and spoke some
words in some sweet language, and then arose and offered me both hands,
and I kissed her lovely brow, and met her loving eyes bedewed with
tears, and said, "You are mine for ever."
She bowed her head, as if to say, "I am well contented with it;" but
when I drew forth that ruby cross of hers which I had kept so long, and
offered to place it on her breast, as it was when I first beheld her,
she shrank away, and her cheeks grew pale, and she trembled so that I
felt compelled to throw both arms around her. "What is it, my darling?
My own love, what has scared you so?" I asked, drawing the red flash
from her sight.
"You know that I am not too wise. You do not want me to be wise; oh,
George, I have no strength of mind; I cannot bear to be taken from you."
"I should like to see anybody do it," said I, guiding her craftily to a
less exalted place; "but why has this little thing frightened you so,
when you must have worn it a hundred times?"
"Because there is a most sad tale about it, which I will tell you some
day. But even without that I must not wear it, according to the rules of
the family; unless--unless--a thing that would grieve you heartily, I
hope, George--unless I cease to care for you. No maiden must have this
on her heart, when her heart has ceased to be her own. Shall I tell you
a little secret? That was why I lent it to you and never asked for it
back again, as soon as ever I began to fancy--not to be too sure--but to
be uncertain whether--oh, you know my signification, George!"
"When you doubted, sweetest sweet, whether you might not be beginning to
think in your angelic heart of a worthless fellow, whose name is
George."
"What language to use of such a pair! If you abuse one, you abuse the
other. Do you see what English I speak now? I could not talk like this,
when first I met you. How do you think I learned to do it?"
"Dariel, how should I know? Your voice would make any language sweet.
Your father has the gift of tongues. He speaks better English than I
do. No doubt it has come down to you. And you have been with English
teachers."
"Yes. But they made me speak French more than this. They thought that
the air would teach me English. And my father always talked to me in our
own language, such as I sang to you last night. But when I began to have
George in my mind, and to fancy that he was getting fond of me, I
changed all that. Comprehend you now? I made my darling father speak
nothing to me but the English. And I shall be angry with myself, if you
have not observed the improvement."
At this proof of her lovely love, I said and did--no matter what. Never
since the world began has any man been so beyond himself. Such things
are not to be described. And I never would have gone back thus, to give
any one else an idea of them, if I could have won that glory, with no
anguish afterwards. Every man must be in glory, when his true love loves
him. He knows that he is not worthy of it; and that makes the triumph
nobler.
She might lead me where she liked. A man is never like a flower--unless
it be a tobacco-flower, which only blooms in the evening--but he has
always been like grass; and grass (if you watch it carefully, and mow it
very seldom) has a gift of turning to the sun, like most of us who
manage it. My sense of beauty was so vast that I could not get to the
end of it, and strove to teach her every item of her own perfections.
But she arose, and took my hand, and said, "Let us go to father. A
little bit of wisdom will be good among all these wonders. But I only
wish that I owned them all; because they would all belong to you."
Sûr Imar received us with a loving smile. I thought that he had never
looked more grand. Dariel knelt to him, while I held her hand; and if I
could have knelt to any man, I would have done so then to him. But the
knee of an Englishman goes down to none except his Maker.
[Illustration: "_Sûr Imar received us with a loving smile._"]
"So be it," he said, as he kissed her forehead; "may the Lord bless both
my children."