"Very," replied my mother--"so hard, that your imprudence has been
visited on all of us. I have been blamed for launching you into the
gaieties of life at Cape Town, with all its incidental temptations.
Marion is pointed out as the sister of `that flirt, Miss Daveney, Mrs
Rashleigh's rival;' and your father reproaches himself for not remaining
with you when he discovered that Lady Amabel Fairfax had lost rather
than gained in strength of character--"
I could have said, "Ah! mother, how do you learn what the world says of
us?--who dares tell _you_ these things?" I was not aware then that
Lyle, in his own specious, deprecatory way, was her informant, directly
or indirectly--"grieving to set such unpleasant truths before her, but
deeming it his duty to do so."
You will wonder that a clever woman like my mother did not see through
this systematic deceit; but she was bitterly annoyed at the issue of
Clarence Fairfax's attentions to me; she fancied herself pointed at by
the finger of pity--you know how sensitive she is on this point--and she
was impatient at my belief that Clarence had loved me. "Had he ever
told me so seriously? Was I blind enough to believe him in earnest? He
had never loved me; his regard, such as it was, was contemptible."
More, much more, she said--I admitted that Clarence had never been my
acknowledged lover; but--
"Are there no looks, mute, but most eloquent?"
I confessed that he was fickle--"And vain?"--"Yes." "And selfish, and
heartless, and unprincipled!"
I could not answer these allegations--I dared not say he had been the
victim of a vicious woman, years older than himself, and deeply versed
in intrigue. I had once ventured to speak in this strain, and had drawn
forth words of scorn and anger, which my mother afterwards repented
using, but which I ever dreaded to evoke again.
But the climax of Lyle's art lay in an incident I shall record.
My father and I were riding one day, sauntering through a kloof, when we
were overtaken by him. At the end of this kloof was a branch of a rapid
stream. Here it was deep and dangerous; but my horse and I knew the
ford well--Lyle rode a little behind me. In the middle of the stream my
horse began to plunge among the stones--my father was a few yards in
advance; he could not easily turn to my aid, owing to the strength of
the current--I was alarmed, yet tried to restrain the animal, but he
plunged the more; Lyle, with his powerful arm, drew me from my saddle,
and bore me before him safely across the drift--my horse was swept
down--it is the same old grey we pet sometimes; he was found two days
after, hanging to a branch by his bridle, having found a footing on the
bank.
Can you conceive a man afterwards boasting of this trick? It was Lyle
who had made the animal plunge that he might rescue me, and thus place
me under a supposed obligation for my life!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mother insisted on my going into society--she was doubtless right;
but you know what society consists of in a great garrison,--a few
ladies, crowds of gentlemen, and some women, whose friendship is far
from desirable; I believe some of the latter were unsparing in their
scandalous chronicles of Cape Town, when Mrs Rashleigh and I were both
made subjects of remark. The girl of seventeen, the daughter of a
representative of authority, and of a mother whose abilities and lofty
aspirations rendered her an object of fear and dislike with many, was
not likely to be dealt with gently by these idle, frivolous, uneducated
women; the story of Miss Daveney's "_liaison_" with Captain Fairfax lost
nothing in such hands; and although most of our earliest friends stood
by us through good report and evil report, these were not many, and it
was evident that the faith of some was shaken. Lyle took care that my
father and mother should see this--he alluded to it with indignation,
and avowed himself more devoted than ever--
"My _mither_ urged me sair, my _father_ could na speak, But he looked in
my face--"
I asked for time--I sincerely believed that I had banished Clarence from
my heart, if not from my mind. I accustomed myself to receive Lyle's
attentions; they were offered, though not offensively, in the sight of
other men, and in an evil hour for all, I yielded.
I admired Lyle--I admired his courage, his abilities, his apparently
independent spirit, his resolution; I was perpetually told that his
perseverance deserved reward.
I married him, believing that I felt a regard and admiration for him,
which would ripen into affection. How much it has already cost me to
set down these details, these reasons, or excuses--if you think the last
word the truest--for consenting to a union which has blighted so many
years of my young life!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have him before me now. I hear the solemn adjuration of the minister
of God, as we stood before the altar of the little church of B--: "I
require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of
judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if
either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined
together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it." I looked up at the tall,
powerful man standing beside me. Never shall I forget his countenance--
his features were suffused with a leaden hue, which faded to a deadly
pallor, his lips were colourless, and he leaned against the altar-rails
for support; but he recovered himself by a strong effort, and repeated
the responses distinctly, though in a low time, and with his eyes fixed
on the ground.
We retired for a time to a beautiful village near the sea. I soon
noticed that my husband was moody, silent, but not unkind. I tried to
please him; I fancied that I must be a dull companion for one so clever.
We had been married about two months, when I discovered that my husband
was expecting letters from England; he was evidently anxious about
these. And why? He had described himself to my family as being without
a single relation on earth, except the uncle from whom he had brought
recommendatory letters; he had made a fair settlement on me, and my
father had placed before him a due account of his finances and my
prospects. My father was then a wealthy landholder in Albany; but,
unfortunately, he had placed the greater part of his savings in one of
those great banking-houses in India, which failed so suddenly as to ruin
thousands.
My family had returned to Annerley, and my husband and I had just taken
up our abode at B--, when the fatal news of my father's heavy loss
reached us.
I had already had some experience of Lyle's violence of temper on his
resuming his official duties: there are some men, you know, whose
tempers are more violent than hasty, who can curb their passions when
obliged to bend before a superior power, and whose wrath finds vent for
itself at home; but I was unprepared for the storm that burst on my
devoted head at the announcement by letter of our pecuniary misfortunes.
He accused my father of wilfully deceiving him; he bestowed the most
revolting epithets on my mother, and laughed bitterly at my having
believed he could love "such a pale-faced, forsaken, meek-spirited
little idiot for herself alone."
But you would not have me repeat all the degrading and terrible
imprecations that fell from his lips.
My first thought was of the pain this sad state of things would cause my
father and mother.
In the course of a few days my father, rode over to see us. It was, at
first, Lyle's policy to appear on the best possible terms with me. He
had no intention of openly disgracing himself, and it was also very
plain that he was in deep anxiety about news from England.
My father received letters from Sir Adrian. Here is an extract from
one:--"What will you think, my dear Daveney, when I tell you that this
Lyle, whom we have received in our homes, proves to be nothing more than
a swindler? I have discovered that, not only in England, but at the
Cape, he has persuaded various persons to back bills to a considerable
amount; he has not a sixpence beyond his commission, which he will be
obliged to sell immediately. I have written him a letter on the
subject; and for your sake, my dear Daveney, I do hope the affair will
be managed as quietly as possible. I inclose a few lines from Amabel,
who is deeply distressed for your daughter. We have all been grievously
deceived; and I consider that the credentials he brought me from various
military friends should never have been accorded to this young man, who,
though professing to be a reformed character, was not to be depended
upon. The person to whom he has been chiefly indebted for letters of
introduction granted them under peculiar circumstances, and in the hopes
that this handsome, plausible, clever vagabond would mend his ways: he
is young enough; but, I am sorry to say, I have proofs of his being
thoroughly depraved."
Sir Adrian did not know the worst. The documents which Lyle had laid
before my father, previous to our marriage, were forgeries.
You will wonder, since there was clearly no regard for me from beginning
to end, why I was selected as a victim by this being, who, as you will
learn some day, _had_ been unfortunate. It was from his lips I heard
the unwelcome truths: there was little time before him to obtain a sure
footing in South Africa in an honourable position, ere bills, endorsed
by men whom he had succeeded in duping, would become due. Subtle of
purpose, he easily gained such information touching the young _protege_
of Lady Amabel Fairfax, as made him think it worth his while to lay
siege to me. Lady Amabel was just the facile, guileless, unsuspecting
woman to whom it was easy to gain access, and this once accomplished, he
readily found favour with me--it would not have done to deliberate; and,
furthermore, I was the only girl, with whom he was intimately
associated, whose means were accredited. My father was known to possess
a considerable sum of money, and a fine landed property. Lyle contrived
to have a correspondence with my father touching settlements; the latter
little knew that every line he wrote was sent to England to reassure
creditors.
He had a deep-laid scheme, too, relative to my young sister, had I
failed him. Time, time, was all he wanted; and by sending home the
correspondence on my father's part, he succeeded in persuading some of
his dupes to renew the bills, offering high interest for this.
Will you believe it, when ruined in character and fortune, it was his
pleasure to lay bare these schemes before me?
For some time after he had abjured his military career, it was his
policy to keep up an outward show of kindness to me: he actually
succeeded in making some think he was an ill-used man; and when those
who were charitable enough to believe him more unfortunate than vicious
would invite us to their houses; he would insist on my going. If I
remonstrated, heaven help me! He is dead, and I forgive him all his
trespasses: were he living, I could not confess to any man that he has
sometimes taken me by the hair of my head, and swung me round the
apartment, till, terrified, dizzy, and blind, I have fainted.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
We had a wicked servant too, a Malay woman, who hated me, and who was
readily persuaded into spreading a report that I was ill-tempered.
My poor father managed, in spite of difficulties, to make us an
allowance that would have been amply sufficient for our wants had my
husband been a reasonable being; but a man utterly devoid of principle,
and angrily deploring the ruin he has brought upon himself, is _not_ a
reasonable being. My wretched partner for life grew frantic at last
with rage and disappointment when Sir Adrian Fairfax found it necessary
to denounce him as a swindler; for, some of the better class of
merchants, deceived by his plausibility, were disposed to trust him; and
he had the hardihood to expect that Sir Adrian, for the sake of my
family, would place him in a situation, with certain emoluments, at the
request of the most influential men connected with the commerce and the
diplomacy of the Cape Colony.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Much that I have last noted down has been drawn from communications
passing between my father, Sir Adrian, and some other gentlemen, who
were anxious, if possible, to save Lyle from utter ruin.
His reputation was irretrievably gone; but they would still have given
him, if they could, the means of existence. Sir Adrian, however, could
not in honour permit this; and I was beginning to consider where we
should hide our heads, at any rate till after my infant's birth, when
one morning I discovered that the little money we had had in the house
had been taken from my desk. My husband had departed. Whither, it was
not easy to say.
We traced him into Kafirland. I sought the shelter of my father's
house. My mother opened her arms to receive me. You see her sometimes
look reproachingly upon me. She derives such unmitigated relief at the
idea of my release from bondage by the death of my miserable husband,
that she grows angry at times because I mourn the wasted years I have
passed, and have no heart to meet the future.
I had remained three months at Annerley, often in dread of my husband's
return, but beginning to hope that a letter which my father had
despatched to him, through a trader, would induce him to accede to a
legal separation. Alas! it seemed to me that it only reminded him that
he held in his hands the power of tormenting me.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was one evening walking up and down the trellised passage, pondering
mournfully on my future prospects, when the author of all my misery
appeared before me. He was scarcely recognisable at first. His
complexion was bronzed, his beard and whiskers, enormously grown, gave
him a ferocious appearance, and his costume was more like that of a
buccaneer than anything else. He carried pistols in his belt, and on my
screaming as he seized my hand, he drew one of the weapons out, and, in
sheer recklessness, discharged it. The ball entered the thatched roof;
the noise attracted my father from the vineyard.
The scene that ensued baffles description. My father drew me towards
him. Lyle held the pistol, with one barrel yet undischarged, close to
my head. My father released me in dismay, and stood helpless, it had
been useless to attempt to thrust the weapon aside--"Advance a finger,
stir a foot," said Lyle, "and I fire. She is my wife; you gave her to
me, and a precious bargain I have got. I will keep her while it suits
me, and when I am inclined to go roving again, I will send her back.
Call _me_ swindler!--it was _you_ who took _me_ in with your promises.
Liar and scoundrel that you are, you had _no_ funds in India, but you
had a mind to palm off upon me what Fairfax had cast off!--and yet you
were not so keen in this matter as your wife. Ah! start, if you will,
but keep your distance, and send some one for this frightened fool's
kit. You are rightly served; I will take care that you shall pay me for
keeping this daughter of yours, that was to have so fair a fortune."
The servants, attracted by the noise, gathered round us. My father
would fain have drawn Lyle away, to prevent so public an exposure.
Little May was in our service at that time--he had a _kierrie_ (stick),
and, springing up, struck the pistol out of my persecutor's hand.
It was impossible, however, to come to terms with him. All that my
father could obtain from him was a Respite till a wagon could be
prepared for travelling, and some arrangement made for occupying a small
farm near B--. It was not far from Mr Trail's mission station, and
within a mile or two of a little military outpost.
You were speaking of Mimosa Drift the other day. You know the desert
solitude of that beautiful spot. Ah! what terrible hours have I passed
among the alders overhanging that hoarsely-murmuring river!
For there I would retire to weep, sometimes; there I would hide myself
from my husband in his hours of wrath.
But these fits of insane rage became unendurable; and one night, after I
had been struck to the earth, I had the presence of mind to lie as if
insensible. The single Bechuana servant we had, terrified at the scene
of violence she witnessed, rushed away in the darkness of the night to
the little fort, where, on the commanding officer being informed of what
was passing in our wretched home, he immediately set off with assistance
to the rescue.
But I had flown--Lyle was there, raging like a wild beast from room to
room; he was armed, too, and the officer was not sorry that the
threatening language and gestures of my husband were such as to justify
his taking him by force to the outpost. Thinking it wise to avoid
public exposure, he released his prisoner next day.
The night was pitchy dark when I crawled to Mimosa Drift, and sat down
by the riverside to recover my scattered senses. My feet were bare and
bleeding, a shawl, hastily snatched up, covered my night-dress, and my
hair streamed over my shoulders. I had been dragged from my bed to look
for some ammunition which had been left out, and which I had
unfortunately put away in my ignorance of my husband's intentions to go
out shooting at dawn. Tired, frightened, and confused, I could not
remember where I had put it for safety; discovering it at last, he found
that it had got damp from the rain dripping through the thatch, and I
paid the penalty of my thoughtlessness.
He left me, as I have stated, lying apparently insensible on the ground.
How I had strength to rise I know not, but I felt my way through the
house and garden. Nettles and briars blistered my feet as I sped across
the plain. The wind was howling between the hills; great masses of
cloud were floating like palls in the lead-coloured atmosphere above;
below all was gloom, except when bright forked tongues of lightning
descended before me, showing every stone, every insect, in my path; a
shower of light struck the earth, and spread into a sheet of flame, that
ran past me, and seemed to set the ground on fire. My shawl was caught
by the blast--I was drawn back--I fancied it was my tormentor--I
shrieked aloud, and the tempest answered me from the hollows in the
mountains; large drops of rain began to fall heavily upon my face--the
thunder roared--I never thought of turning; on I sped, wild with fear.
The drift sheltered me from the strength of the blast for a minute; the
wolves and jackals were screaming to each other from their
hiding-places; the hyenas gibbered and mocked at me, with their sneering
laugh; the bats wheeled on the air whithersoever it drew them--their
cold wings swept at times across my burning cheek--the murmur of the
river increased to a tumult. I dreaded being seized unawares, and,
springing into the stream, forded it, heaven knows how, in safety.
I must have lost my way, for, after wandering about for hours, I came at
dawn to the foot of one of those sudden elevations which almost baffle
human strength in ascending them. The tempest had subsided, but the
rain shaded the heavens as with a veil. I ascended the mound with much
toil, but could see nothing but bald rocks, and shrubs beaten by the
torrent. I sat down upon a stone, shivering with cold and fear, and
wept as I had not done for months.
The clouds lifted at last, and showed me more distinctly my utter
loneliness. God sent help. I heard a sheep-bell tinkle, and guessed
rightly that I was not far from Mr Trail's mission station. I followed
the welcome sound, and soon recognised the plentiful gardens sloping to
the road. I crawled up the acclivity. Day was banishing the Genius of
the Storm as I approached the gate. The windows of the school-house
were open, and the servants of the household were assembled there in
prayer. The "Amen" swelled like the murmur of an ocean wave; the voices
of the worshippers rose in the matin hymn, and, overcome with
exhaustion, and the transition from terror to peace, I fell insensible
at the threshold of the mission-house.