RALPH RETURNS INTO THE SEA
Ralph and Suzanne reached their outspan place in safety a little before
sunset. I used to know the spot well; it is where one of the numerous
wooded kloofs that scar the mountain slopes ends on a grassy plain of
turf, short but very sweet. This plain is not much more than five
hundred paces wide, for it is bordered by the cliff, that just here is
not very high, against which the sea beats at full tide.
When the oxen had been turned loose to graze, and the voorlooper set to
watch them, the driver of the waggon undid the cooking vessels and
built a fire with dry wood collected from the kloof. Then Suzanne
cooked their simple evening meal, of which they partook thankfully.
After it was done the pair left the waggon and followed the banks of
the little kloof stream, which wandered across the plain till it
reached the cliff, whence it fell in a trickling waterfall into the
sea. Here they sat down upon the edge of the cliff, and locked in each
other’s arms, watched the moon rise over the silver ocean, their young
hearts filled with a joy that cannot be told.
“The sea is beautiful, is it not, husband?” whispered Suzanne into his
ear.
“To-night it is beautiful,” he answered, “as our lives seem to be; yet
I have seen it otherwise,” and he shuddered a little.
She nodded, for she knew of what he was thinking, and did not wish to
speak of it. “Neither life nor ocean can be always calm,” she said,
“but oh! I love that great water, for it brought you to me.”
“I pray that it may never separate us,” answered Ralph.
“Why do you say that, husband?” she asked. “Nothing can separate us
now, for even if you journey far away to seek your own people, as
sometimes I think you should, I shall accompany you. Nothing can
separate us except death, and death shall bind us more closely each to
each for ever and for ever.”
“I do not know why I said it, Sweet,” he answered uneasily, and just
then a little cloud floated over the face of the moon, darkening the
world, and a cold wind blew down the kloof, causing its trees to rustle
and chilling the pair, so that they clung closer to each other for
comfort.
The cloud and the wind passed away, leaving the night as beautiful as
before, and they sat on for a while to watch it, listening to the music
of the waterfall that splashed into the deep sea pool below, and to the
soft surge of the waves as they lapped gently against the narrow beach.
At length Ralph spoke in a low voice. “Sweet, it is time to sleep,” he
said, and kissed her.
“It is time,” she whispered back, “but, husband, first let us kneel
together here and pray to the Almighty to bless our married life and
make us happy.”
“That is a good thought,” he answered, for in those days young men who
had been brought up as Christians were not ashamed to say their prayers
even in the presence of others.
So they knelt down side by side upon the edge of the cliff, with their
faces set towards the open sea.
“Pray for us both aloud, Ralph,” said Suzanne, “for though my heart is
full enough I have no words.”
So Ralph prayed very simply, saying: “Oh, God, Who madest us, hear us,
Thy son and daughter, and bless us. This night our married life begins;
be Thou with us ever in it, and if it should please Thee that we should
have children, let Thy blessing go with them all their days. Oh! God, I
thank Thee that Thou didst save me alive from the sea and lead the feet
of the child who is now my wife to the place where I was starving, and
Suzanne thanks Thee that through the whisperings of a dream her feet
were led thus. Oh! God, as I believe that Thou didst hear my prayer
when as a lost child I knelt dying on the rock, so I believe that Thou
dost hear this the first prayer of our wedded life. We know that all
life is not made up of such joy as Thou hast given us this day, but
that it has many dangers and troubles and losses, therefore we pray
Thee to comfort us in the troubles, to protect us in the dangers, and
to give us consolation in the losses; and most of all we pray Thee that
we who love each other, and whom Thou hast joined together, may be
allowed to live out our lives together, fearing nothing, however great
our peril, since day and night we walk in the shadow of Thy strength,
until we pass into its presence.”
This was Ralph’s prayer, for he told it to me word by word afterwards
when he lay sick. At the time the answer to it seemed to be a strange
one, an answer to shake the faith out of a man’s heart, and yet it was
not lost or mocked at, for the true response came in its season. Nay,
it came week by week and hour by hour, seeing that every day through
those awful years the sword of the Strength they had implored protected
those who prayed, holding them harmless in many a desperate peril to
reunite them at the last. The devil is very strong in this world of
ours, or so it seems to me, who have known much of his ways, so strong
that perhaps God must give place to him at times, for if He rules in
heaven, I think that Satan shares His rule on earth. But in the end it
is God who wins, and never, never, need they fear who acknowledge Him
and put their faith in Him, trying the while to live uprightly and
conquer the evil of their hearts. Well, this is only an old woman’s
wisdom, though it should not be laughed at, since it has been taught to
her by the experience of a long and eventful life. Such as it is I hope
that it may be of service to those who trust in themselves and not in
their Maker.
As the last words of his prayer left Ralph’s lips he heard a man laugh
behind him. The two of them sprang to their feet at the sound, and
faced about to see Swart Piet standing within five paces of them, and
with him eight or ten of his black ruffians, who looked upon him as
their chief, and did his needs without question, however wicked they
might be.
Now Suzanne uttered a low cry of fear and the blood froze about Ralph’s
heart, for he was unarmed and their case was hopeless. Black Piet saw
their fear and laughed again, since like a cat that has caught a mouse
for which it has watched long, he could not resist the joy of torture
before he dealt the death blow.
“This is very lucky,” he said, “and I am glad that I have to do with
such pious people, since it enabled us to creep on you unawares; also I
much prefer to have found you engaged in prayer, friend Englishman,
rather than in taking the bloom off my peach with kisses, as I feared
might be the case. That was a pretty prayer, too; I almost felt as
though I were in church while I stood listening to it. How did it end?
You prayed that you might be allowed to live together, fearing nothing,
however great your peril, since you walked always in the shadow of
God’s strength. Well, I have come to answer your petition, and to tell
you that your life together is ended before it is begun. For the rest,
your peril is certainly great, and now let God’s strength help you if
it can. Come, God, show Your strength. He does not answer, you see, or
perhaps He knows that Swart Piet is god here and is afraid.”
“Cease your blasphemy,” said Ralph in a hoarse voice, “and tell me what
you want with us.”
“What do I want? I want her whose scorn and beauty have driven me mad,
her for whom I have been seeking this long time—Suzanne Botmar.”
“She is my wife,” said Ralph; “would you steal away my wife?”
“No, friend, for that would not be lawful. I will not take your wife,
but I shall take your widow, as will be easy, seeing that you are armed
with God’s strength only.”
Now understanding all this man’s devilish purpose, Suzanne fell upon
her knees before him, imploring him with many piteous words. But
knowing that death was at hand Ralph’s heart rose to it, as that of a
high-couraged man will do, and he bade her to cease her supplications
and rise. Then in a loud, clear voice he spoke in the Kaffir tongue, so
that those who were with Piet Van Vooren should understand him.
“It seems, Piet Van Vooren,” he said, “that you have stolen upon us
here to carry off my wife by violence after you have murdered me. These
crimes you may do, though I know well that if you do them they will be
revenged upon you amply, and upon you men also who take part in them.
And now I will not plead to you for mercy, but I ask one thing which
you cannot refuse, because those with you, Kaffirs though they be, will
not suffer it—five short minutes of time in which to bid farewell to my
new-wed wife.”
“Not an instant,” said Swart Piet, but at the words the black men who
were with him, and whose wicked hearts were touched with pity, began to
murmur so loudly, that he hesitated.
“At your bidding, Bull-Head,” said one of them, “we have come to kill
this man and to carry away the white woman, and we will do it, for you
are our chief and we must obey you. But, if you will not give him the
little space for which he asks, wherein to bid farewell to his wife
before she becomes your wife, then we will have nothing more to do with
the matter. I say that our hearts are sick at it already, and,
Bull-Head, you kill a man, not a dog, and that by murder, not in fair
fight.”
“As you will, fool,” said Swart Piet. “Englishman, I give you five
minutes,” and he drew a large silver watch from his pocket and held it
in his hand.
“Get out of hearing then, murderer,” said Ralph, “for I have no breath
left to waste on you,” and Piet obeying him, fell back a little and
stood gnawing his nails and staring at the pair.
“Suzanne, wife Suzanne,” whispered Ralph, “we are about to part, since,
as you see, I must die, and your fate lies in the Hand of God. Yes, you
are made a widow before you are a wife; and, Suzanne, ah! that is the
worst of it, another takes you, even my murderer.”
Now Suzanne, who till this moment had been as one stupefied, seemed to
gather up her strength and answered him calmly, saying:
“Truly, husband, things appear to be as you say, though what we have
done that they should be so, I cannot tell. Still comfort yourself, for
death comes to all of us soon or late, and whether it comes soon or
late makes little difference in the end, seeing that come it must.”
“No, not death, it is your fate that makes the difference. How can I
bear to die and leave you the prey of that devil? Oh my God! my God!
how can I bear to die!”
“Have no fear, husband,” went on Suzanne in the same clear, indifferent
voice, “for you do not leave me to be his prey. Say, now; if we walk
backwards swiftly before they could catch us we might fall together
into the pit of the sea beneath.”
“Nay, wife, let our deaths lie upon their heads and not upon ours, for
self-murder is a crime.”
“As you will, Ralph; but I tell you, and through you I tell Him who
made me, that it is a crime which I shall dare if need be. Have no
fear, Ralph, as I leave your arms, so shall I return to them, whether
it be in Heaven or upon earth. That man thinks he has power over me,
but I say that he has none, seeing that at the last God will protect me
with His hand, or with my own.”
“I cannot blame you, Suzanne, for there are some things which are not
to be borne. Do therefore as your conscience teaches you, if you have
the means.”
“I have the means, Ralph. Hidden about me is a little knife which I
have carried since I was a child; and if that fails me there are other
ways.”
“Time is done,” said Swart Piet, replacing the watch in his pocket.
“Farewell, sweet,” whispered Ralph.
“Farewell, husband,” she answered bravely, “until we meet again,
whether it be here on earth or above in Heaven; farewell until we meet
again,” and she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him.
For a moment Ralph clung to her muttering some blessing above her bowed
head; then he unloosed her clasping arms, letting her fall gently upon
the ground and saying: “Lie thus, shutting your ears and hiding your
eyes till all is done. Afterwards you must act as seems best to you.
Escape to your father if you can, if not—tell me, do you understand?”
“I understand,” she murmured, and hid her face in a tuft of thick
grass, placing her hands upon her ears.
Ralph bowed his head for an instant in prayer. Then he lifted it and
there was no fear upon his face.
“Come on, murderer,” he said, addressing Swart Piet, “and do your
butcher’s work. Why do you delay? You cannot often find the joy of
slaughtering a defenceless man in the presence of his new-made wife.
Come on then and win the everlasting curse of God.”
Now Swart Piet glanced at him out of the corners of his round eyes;
then he ordered one of the Kaffirs to go up to him and shoot him.
The man went up and lifted his gun, but presently he put it down again
and walked away, saying that he could not do this deed. Thrice did Van
Vooren issue his command, and to three separate men, the vilest of his
flock, but with each of them it was the same; they came up lifting
their guns, looked into Ralph’s grey eyes and slunk away muttering.
Then, cursing and swearing in his mad fury, Swart Piet drew the pistol
from his belt and rushing towards Ralph fired it into him so that he
fell. He stood over him and looked at him, the smoking pistol in his
hand, but the wide grey eyes remained open and the strong mouth still
smiled.
“The dog lives yet,” raved Swart Piet; “cast him into the sea, and let
the sea finish him.”
But no man stirred; all stood silent as though they had been cut in
stone, and there, a little nearer the cliff edge, lay the silent form
of Suzanne.
Then Van Vooren seized Ralph and dragged him by the shoulders to the
brink of the precipice. His hair brushed the hair of Suzanne as his
body was trailed along the ground, and as he passed he whispered one
word, “Remember,” into her ear, and she raised her head to look at him
and answered, “Now, and always.” Then she let her head fall again.
Stooping down, Swart Piet lifted Ralph in his great arms, and crying
aloud: “Return into the sea out of which you came,” he hurled him over
the edge of the cliff. Two seconds later the sound of a heavy splash
echoed up its sides; then, save for the murmur of the waterfall and the
surge of the surf upon the beach, all was still again.