CHAPTER XXIV.

TRUE TO HER PROMISE.

[Illustration: Chapter XXIV drop-cap A]

After the bursting of the shell over the roof of the Town Hall

hospital, it was decided that it was no longer a safe hospital for the

sick. Some were removed to the Congregational Chapel; others to a camp

specially provided for their safety; and others, again, to the field

hospital at Intombi. Mollie, to her great distress, was ordered to

Intombi. She went with a number of the sick and wounded, and she

tried, in the full absorption of her new duties, to forget the

anxieties which surrounded her personal life. In some ways this was

easy, in others it was difficult. She was now effectually parted from

Katherine Hunt and from Kitty. She was also not likely to see either

Captain Keith or Major Strause; for although they might manage to get

to Intombi, the way there, lying as it did through the enemy's lines,

was difficult.

Meanwhile she wondered what the major had decided to do. She resolved,

as far as she was concerned, not to leave a stone unturned to extricate

Keith from the dilemma which surrounded him. But having been ordered

so unexpectedly to Intombi, the strong step which she had meant to

take, supposing the major did not comply with her wishes, was now

almost impossible to carry out. Meanwhile her duties absorbed every

moment of her time. The hospital at Intombi consisted of about two

hundred bell tents, together with one or two marquees which the medical

staff used. A train went from the town every day to the hospital camp.

It took the wounded to the hospital, and also took what supplies could

possibly be spared.

Mollie missed the close companionship which had been hers in the

beleaguered town. The site chosen for the hospital was anything but

desirable, and the patients were both anxious and flurried. Good news

affected them favourably; but if the news was depressing, many more on

those days were added to the list of deaths. They were within constant

hearing of the guns, and although they were supposed to be safe at

Intombi, yet the shock to the nerves was very trying. The comforts

needed for the sick were almost impossible to be had. They were

terribly short of all wholesome and nourishing food. They wanted

changes of linen and all sorts of comforts. Many of the sick were

obliged, for lack of camp beds, to lie upon the damp ground. The

nurses were at their wits' end to keep things going at all. The deaths

increased daily. The enteric cases became more and more numerous.

Relief seemed far off. Despair came nigh, and hope sank very low.

The food both in Ladysmith and at Intombi was now of the worst type.

In Ladysmith the bread degenerated to ground mealies of maize. It was

quite indigestible, and caused inflammation of the stomach.

Meanwhile Major Strause considered his strange position, and for a time

did nothing. Should he or should he not secure Mollie Hepworth on her

own terms? Over and over again, when he lay down for a few hours' rest

on his hard bed in his miserable hut, his thoughts turned to her; and

his passion and desire to obtain her grew so great that he felt he

would even give up every chance of ever appearing straight with his

fellow-men for her sake. He knew well that if by a few words--words

which, in spite of himself, must give his position away--he did what

she required, she would be true to her promise. She would become his

wife, and neither reproach him nor bring up his ugly past to him. She

would be, what he had always hoped, his faithful and true wife. He

felt certain he could make her love him. He did not believe love so

great as what he called his feeling for her could be unreturned. She

would forget Keith, and give up her entire life to him. And yet again,

when daylight broke and he moved amongst his brother officers, he felt

that Mollie's conditions were beyond his strength. If he had hated

Keith before, the bare mention of his name was enough to madden him

now. He was torn between the desire to obtain Mollie and the terror of

humiliating himself. He was weak, too, from many hardships, from

sundry small wounds, and from insufficient food.

Kitty was confined altogether to her room. She was not ill enough to

go to hospital, nor was there any hospital for her to go to, and

Katharine was absorbed with her. Captain Keith avoided Strause, and

went moodily about his duties. He was often seen wending his way to

Observation Hill. He often consulted the heliograph. He would come

gravely back, his face more sallow day by day, his step more languid.

Major Strause learned to watch for him. Although he hated him, he

could scarcely now endure himself except when Captain Keith was in

sight. Mollie's absence from Ladysmith made it altogether a terrible

spot to both the men who loved her. Yes, they both loved her, each

after his own fashion; but Keith's love was unselfish, Strause's the

reverse.

Keith now called daily to see Kitty. He went to her room when she was

well enough, and sat by her bedside and talked to her cheerily. The

little girl answered him in her gentlest fashion. She no longer showed

the unworthy terrors which had possessed her on her arrival at

Ladysmith. She expected very little, and did not talk as much as

formerly about her future. It did not seem to Kitty now that anything

mattered. She had to a great extent given up hope. With the absence

of hope she became gentler and more bearable--less selfish too. She

seemed to have got untold relief from the absence of Mollie. It was

impossible for Captain Keith to go very often to Intombi. That he did

go from time to time she knew, but now she could rest happily in the

knowledge that he was not visiting Mollie daily. In his presence she

was very patient, and no longer grumbled. Some of his old love for her

returned. He liked to sit with her, to watch her slow-coming smiles,

and to talk over matters with Katherine Hunt. He felt very much at

home with Katherine, who showed herself a braver and finer woman each

day.

Katherine managed to get the very best rations which the beleaguered

town could afford for Kitty's use, and she often gave Captain Keith a

nourishing meal. He accepted her ministrations without a word. He

knew that for Kitty's sake, and perhaps for Mollie's also, he ought not

to throw away his life. He was also fully confident that relief would

come, sooner rather than later.

"We shall survive this," he said. "Buller is making way, not a doubt

of it, and the Boers are only sitting down hoping to starve us out. As

long as there is a horse left in Ladysmith we won't be starved."

He had taken quite kindly to his chevral, and tried to induce Kitty to

take it. This she would not do. She burst into tears whenever it was

offered to her, and in the end Katherine and Keith resolved that she

should not be worried to take it. Keith spent almost all his available

money in buying eggs and other dainties for the sick girl. Eggs rose

to something like four shillings a piece, and even at that they were

scarcely worth eating. But Kitty had what few there were to be

obtained. Keith had another reason now for liking to be with Kitty and

Katherine Hunt. Katherine Hunt had heard nothing of those rumours

which were making his life a hell on earth, neither had Kitty. In

their presence he could still feel himself a gallant soldier of Her

Majesty. He could still look squarely into the faces of these two

women, and knew deep down in his inmost heart that they were not

ashamed of him. But outside Kitty's sick-room things were otherwise.

This was not a time when one brave soldier could be rude to another,

but still marked preferences were shown, also marked aversions. Keith

was more or less sent to Coventry. Even his own men heard the rumours

which were rife about him, and were not quite as obliging and ready to

obey his orders as formerly.

One day, about a month after Mollie had been ordered to Intombi,

Captain Keith went up to Observation Hill. He wanted, if possible, to

send off a heliograph. To his surprise he saw Major Strause coming

slowly up the hill. The two met at the top. It was impossible for

Keith to turn away. Before he could in any manner make his escape the

major called him.

"I want to say a word to you," was his remark. "Don't go. I have

something to communicate which will give you both pleasure and pain."

"You don't look very fit, Major Strause," answered Keith. "Is anything

wrong?"

"I have been having a fresh touch of fever--a touch of the sun, I

suppose. For the last few days I have been in the hospital down

here--the Congregational Chapel: a beastly hole--no comforts of any

sort; not a decent nurse in the place. I was looked after, if you can

call it being looked after, by one or two orderlies. You may be sure I

left as soon as I could. Oh what I suffered!"

"You look like it," said Keith.

"General White seems more hopeful," pursued Strause. "He is confident

that relief will be ours before long. And have you noticed that the

Boers are beginning to trek?"

"No, I have not. Is that the case?"

"Beyond doubt. If you look now, you will see something."

The two men went to the top of the hill, and noticed a long line, more

than a mile in length, of wagons, slowly but surely going away from

Ladysmith. Then they saw heavy dust clouds. The wagons were crowded

with people. They went twining like snakes round the hillsides. They

certainly looked like a beaten army in full retreat.

Keith's eyes sparkled. There came a streak of red into his sallow

cheek.

"It can't be true!" he said. "We have waited so long for good news

that now I can scarcely realize it!"

"It may or may not come," said Strause. "The general is confident.

Another good sign is that there is no more horse-flesh ordered for the

men, and we are put on full rations."

"Still I can scarcely believe it," answered Keith.

"The next few days will solve all our doubts," was Strause's answer.

"But we are not out of the wood yet--by no means. For my part, I want

a hand-to-hand fight. I would rather end the thing than go on as I

have been doing. It is maddening. Everything has been maddening here

lately," he added, with a sneer, and in a peculiar tone.

Keith looked at him. His face, which had assumed a kindly and

interested expression while he and the major were watching the great

trek from Ladysmith, now stiffened. It turned white.

"To what do you allude?" he said.

"I allude to the absence of the one woman who made Ladysmith bearable."

Keith made no answer. The major looked full at him.

"I did you a beastly wrong."

Keith stared.

"I am going to put it right. I cannot stand these things any longer.

I dreaded for a time turning the opprobrium which has been your portion

on myself, but I don't care _that_ for a man's opinion any longer. Men

live for the women they love, not for other men. I don't care what my

colonel or my brother officers think. But I care all God's earth, the

warmth of His sun, and the cheer of life for a woman's smile, and I

mean to get it."

"Explain yourself," said Keith.

"I can do so in a few words. What was wrong shall be put right. I

cannot tell you any more. What was wrong shall be put quite right.

That is about all as far as you are concerned."

Keith turned his head away. His one desire was to get past Major

Strause and go back to Ladysmith. Strause laid a detaining hand on his

shoulder.

"I don't suppose you think well of me," he said, "although I am about

to do the hardest thing a man like myself could ever do. I am going to

bring myself down in order that you may show in your true colours. And

I hate you, Captain Keith, as I hate no other man on earth. It would

be a satisfaction to me to put a bullet through you! But there, I am

going to put everything right for you; only I don't do it for your

sake."

"Why do you detain me, Major Strause? I have urgent duties to perform.

I will wish you good-morning."

"You must stay one minute. I am going to be square with you. I am

going to do what I do, and you will be right, and I shall--"

He paused.

"Yes?" said Keith. His pulse beat rapidly. There had come a breeze

something like health round his stagnant heart, his eyes had

brightened, but now a cold and dreadful fear crept over him.

"Look," said the major--he pointed with his hand--"there lies the

hospital."

"The Intombi hospital?" said Keith.

"There lies the hospital, and I go there."

"You--you are not ill!"

"If I can go in no other way, I shall pose as a sick man. It can be

done, and I go. You would like to know why?"

"Yes," said Keith.

"I will tell you." The major moistened his dry lips. "I am going

there to see the one woman who is all God's earth to me. I am going

to--_kiss her_."

"You lie, you scoundrel!" said Keith.

"I may be a scoundrel, but on this occasion I do not lie. I go to kiss

Nurse Mollie, and claim her as my promised wife."

"You lie!" said Keith again.

His face turned white as ashes. He trembled. It was with an effort he

kept himself from falling. The major smiled at him--a strange smile of

triumph. Then, without uttering another word, he strode past him, and

was lost to view.

A Sister of the Red Cross: A Tale of the South African War · 第 24 / 28 章