Aletta, who had mentally and physically become grey like her
surroundings, like a tree growing in a damp and dark corner which has
long since given up the attempt to shine and burgeon like its fellows
that rejoice in the sunlight--received the news of Elsie's having been
found with but a faint shock of surprise and satisfaction. Her
perceptions had become dulled by the woe-laden years. Sara had, some
two years previously, married a young farmer from an adjoining district.
Uncle Diederick was glad of the opportunity of visiting Cape Town; he
had heard of some wonderful new discoveries in the drug line, and he
wanted to advance professionally with the times. His farming on joint
behalf of himself and Stephanus had prospered. He felt that when his
(at present) sleeping partner should be released, he, Uncle Diederick,
would be able to build himself another "hartebeeste house" of ample
proportions and sumptuous style, and devote his energies exclusively to
the exercise of that healing art which his whole soul loved.
Adrian had--being of a careful and frugal nature--begun acquiring stock
when still very young. This had increased considerably, owing to a long
series of excellent seasons and the exercise of careful management.
Thus, he had recently found himself quite rich enough to start farming
on his own account. When, however, he mooted this contingency with his
father, Gideon at once offered him a full partnership in the farm as a
going concern, leaving him the unrestricted management and only
stipulating for the supply of teams of oxen and relays of horses for use
on the hunting trips upon which he now spent by far the greater
proportion of his time. Adrian at once closed with the offer.
Whilst Uncle Diederick was making preparations for his trip the thought
struck Adrian that the present might prove a good opportunity for him to
visit that city which he had never yet seen. He felt that not alone
could he make the journey pay its expenses, but that a handsome profit
might be won by taking down a load of produce and bringing back another
of supplies. So he overhauled his wagon, packed it with ostrich
feathers and hides and then sent over to tell Uncle Diederick of his
intention.
Uncle Diederick had arranged to start on the third day following.
Adrian's notification came in the form of a message sent through a
Hottentot who was directed to enquire as to the hour of Uncle
Diederick's intended departure, so that the wagon might arrive at the
spot where the two roads from the respective homesteads met, at the same
time. Up to this it had been understood that Jacomina was to remain
behind and attend to any patients who might turn up.
"Pa," said that artless damsel, at supper, "it will be very lonely here
while you are away."
A quizzical expression crinkled over the withered-apple-like visage of
Uncle Diederick. Otherwise he impassively went on with his meal.
"Yes,--and I have never seen Cape Town. Besides Elsie will be very
lonely on the road if there is not another girl to talk to and look
after her."
After she had obtained her father's consent Jacomina began at once
making preparations for her trip. Her best frock was taken from the box
and thoroughly overhauled, her smartest _cappie_ and her newest
_veldschoens_ were laid ready for the morrow. A brooch of old
workmanship and some other trinkets which had drifted into Uncle
Diederick's coffers in the course of trade, and thence been annexed by
his daughter as part of her share in the profits, were examined and
judiciously selected from.
Next day Adrian was astonished, elated and embarrassed to find Jacomina,
resplendent in what passed, locally, for finery, sitting throned upon
Uncle Diederick's wagon box when the wagons met at the appointed spot.
As a matter of fact Adrian's shyness had grown with his passion until
each had reached a pitch of tragic intensity. He had often ridden over
to Uncle Diederick's homestead with full and valiant intentions of
declaring his love, but invariably his courage had failed at the last
moment Jacomina had been at her wits' end to bring him to the point of
proposing which, she knew perfectly well, he was longing to do. She had
tried various ways and means, but all had failed. When she became cold
he sank into gloomy despondency and moped away by himself. If she grew
tender he seemed to dissolve in nervousness and grew as shy as a young
girl. Once, she tried flirtation with another, for the purpose of
arousing jealousy, but the effect was alarming. Adrian went without
food or sleep for several days and rode about the country like one
demented.
The obvious way to arrange matters would have been to get Uncle
Diederick to intervene. This, however, in spite of many direct hints
from Jacomina he had declined to undertake.
In the days we tell of no marriage could be solemnised in the Cape
Colony unless the parties had previously appeared before the matrimonial
court in Cape Town. It is an historical although almost incredible fact
that in the early days of the present century couples wishing to marry
had to come to the metropolis for the purpose from the most distant
parts of the Colony.
Now, in the tender but astute soul of Jacomina a bright and happy
thought had been born. Like the birth of Athene was the issue of this
fully equipped resolve that stood before Jacomina in sudden and dazzling
completeness. Adrian was to accompany her and her father to Cape
Town,--she would induce him to propose on the way down and then there
would be no difficulty in leading him up to the marrying point. He was
of full age; she was accompanied by her father. There was no reason why
the wedding should not take place at once, and thus save them all the
necessity for another trip.
Adrian's shyness did not diminish during the journey. At each outspan
Jacomina exercised all her faculties to shine as a cook. He shewed by
his appetite that he deeply appreciated the results, but he got no
farther than this. With her own deft hands would Jacomina mix Adrian's
well-known quantity of milk and sugar with his coffee, and then pass him
the cup which he would receive so tremblingly that the contents were in
danger.
The skin bag of rusks made so crisp and light that they would melt
instantaneously and deliciously in coffee or milk--the jar of pickled
"_sassatyes_,"--hanks of "_bultong_" and other delicacies would be
produced from the wagon-chest at each outspan and, if Adrian's passion
might be gauged by his appetite, he was, indeed, deeply enamoured.
But Jacomina was at her wits' end,--her lover would not declare himself,
do what she might. One day, however, some difficulty arose with the
gear of Adrian's wagon, so that off Uncle Diederick started alone, its
owner's intention being to wait for his travelling companion at the next
outspan place, where water and pasturage were known to be good. Uncle
Diederick, as was his wont, fell asleep shortly after a start had been
made. Jacomina sat at the opening of the vehicle behind, gazing back
along the road in the direction of where she had left her lover.
It was a drowsy day; a faint haze brooded over the land; not a breath
stirred the air, faint with the scent of the yellow acacia blooms. The
road was deep with heavy sand, through which the oxen slowly and
noiselessly ploughed.
A small, bush--brimming _kloof_ was crossed. Through it sped a small
stream, plashing over a rocky bar into a pool around which nodded a
sleepy forest of ferns. Jacomina put her head out of the back of the
tent. Then she sprang from the back of the wagon and went to examine
the grot. She found a flat ledge, out of range of the spray, which made
a most convenient seat, so she sate herself down and contemplated the
scene.
Jacomina liked the scenery so much that she determined to stay for a few
minutes, and then follow the retreating wagon. Anon she thought she
would wait a little longer and get Adrian to give her a seat as he came
past. The Hottentot driver had seen her dismount, so her father would
know that she had not fallen off and got hurt, at all events.
She sat among the ferns for a good half-hour before she heard the shouts
of the driver urging on the labouring team. Then the wagon laboured
through the _kloof_, and Jacomina peered through the ferns as it passed
her.
Adrian was walking behind the wagon, with long, slow strides and bent
head. Jacomina was just about to arise and call out to him when he
lifted his face at the sound of the plashing water, hesitated for a few
seconds, and then stepped towards the grot.
Jacomina knew, instinctively, that the hour she had long hoped for had
come; that her lover was at length to be caught in the toils which she
had, half-unwittingly, set for his diffident feet,--and the knowledge
filled her with a feeling of bashfulness to which she had hitherto been
a stranger. Thus, when Adrian walked heavily through the fern and
almost touched her dress before he perceived her, she felt covered with
confusion.
Adrian started as though he had seen a ghost. Jacomina lifted a
blushing face and gave him an instantaneous glance from her bright
eyes--made brighter now by a suspicion of tears. Then she bent her face
forward upon her hands and began to sob.
Adrian was bewildered. This was something he had never thought the
matter-of-fact Jacomina capable of. Something must be very wrong
indeed. But he felt no longer awe, and his shyness was swept away in a
tide of pity. There was room on the ledge for two; Adrian sat down next
to the distressed damsel and endeavoured to comfort her.
"What is it, then, Jacomyntje,--has your Pa been scolding you?"
Jacomina nearly gave herself away by indignantly repudiating the bare
notion of her succumbing to anybody's scolding, but she remembered
herself in time. After a partial recovery she was seized by another
paroxysm of sobs, in the course of which she pressed one hand across her
eyes and allowed the other to droop, limply, to her side. No observer
of human nature will be in doubt as to which hand it was she let droop.
Adrian, after a moment's hesitation, nervously lifted the hand and
pressed it slightly. As it was not withdrawn he increased the pressure.
The sobbing calmed down somewhat, but the head remained bowed in an
apparent abandon of hope.
"What is it, Jacomina; tell me why you are weeping."
"Ach, Adrian,--I am so unhappy."
This was getting no farther forward. The sobbing again recurred, and
the fingers of the sufferer took a tight grasp of those of the consoler.
Then the afflicted form swayed so helplessly that Adrian felt bound to
support it with his arm, and in a moment the head of Jacomina reposed
quietly upon his breast.
"What is it, 'Meintje; tell me?"
There was no reply. Adrian looked down upon the sorrow-bowed head and
felt that the growing lassitude of the girl called for firmer support,
which was at once forthcoming. The experience was new and alarming but,
taken all round, he liked it. Jacomina was no longer formidable; in a
few moments he forgot that he had ever been afraid of her.
"Come, Jacomyn', tell me what is the matter."
"Oh, Adrian,--I am afraid to tell you for fear you would despise me."
"Despise you? No, you know I could never do that."
"I am so unhappy because--because you used to like me so much, and now
you never speak to me."
Jacomina had now come to believe in the genuineness of her own woe, so
she fell into a flood of real and violent tears. Adrian gradually
gathered her into his arms, and she allowed herself to be consoled.
After a very few minutes a full understanding was arrived at; then
Jacomina recovered herself with remarkable rapidity, and recollected
that the wagons were far ahead. Adrian's shyness had by this time
completely gone, so much so that Jacomina had some difficulty in getting
him to make a start. In fact she had to escape from his arms by means
of a subterfuge and dart away along the road. Her lover did not lose
much time in following her. The course was interrupted by amatory
interludes whenever the wayside boskage was propitious, so it was not
before the outspanning took place that the wagons were reached.
When the blushing pair stood before Uncle Diederick, that man of
experiences did not need to have matters explained to him.
"Well, Jacomina," he said, "I'll have to see about getting a wife myself
now. But you need not be afraid on account of Aunt Emerencia; no one,
who is not a fool, buys an old mare when he can get a young one for the
same price."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Uncle Diederick, who had not been to Cape Town since the days of his
early youth, was very much impressed by everything he saw, but by
nothing so much as the chemists' shops. He never got tired at gazing at
the rows of bottles with their various coloured contents. He wandered
from one drug emporium to another, until he made the acquaintance of an
affable young assistant who dispensed with an engaging air from behind a
counter deeply laden with wondrous appliances and enticing compounds.
This young man loved experiment for its own sake, and he had a wide
field for the exercise of his hobby among the poorer classes, who
usually came to him for panaceas for their minor ills.
As Paul sat at the feet of Gamaliel, Uncle Diederick sat on a
high-legged stool in the chemist's shop, drinking in greedily the lore
which fell from the young man's lips, and making notes of the same in a
tattered pocket-book, with a very stumpy pencil. Thus Uncle Diederick
widened his medical knowledge considerably, until he felt that all worth
knowing of the healing art was now at his command. The young man was
the only one who suffered; his moral character became sadly deteriorated
owing to the reverence with which Uncle Diederick regarded him, and the
wrapt attention with which every essay of his was observed and recorded.
Eventually Uncle Diederick placed an order worth about ten pounds at the
shop, and obtained copious directions as to treatment of the different
maladies which the contents of each bulky bottle might be expected to
cure.
The wagons had outspanned on the mountain slope, not far below the du
Plessis' dwelling. Jacomina was much impressed at the luxuriousness of
Elsie's surroundings and the quality of the stuff of which her garments
were made. Gertrude and Helena tried to be civil and attentive to
Jacomina and Adrian but--well, Jacomina was not long in seeing that the
two town-bred girls were much more attractive than she was herself, and
she did not care to appear at a disadvantage before her lover. Elsie
she did not at first feel jealous of. As she expressed it to Adrian,
the blind girl reminded her of the great peak at the head of the Tanqua
valley, when it was covered with snow in winter. One day, however, she
observed a look upon Adrian's face as he was regarding his cousin, which
made her resolve to hurry on the wedding at all hazards.
At the lower end of Plein Street was a shop, a mere contemplation of the
contents of which filled Jacomina's soul with satisfaction. It was a
large emporium, specially stocked and arranged for the purpose of
supplying the needs of the farmers visiting the metropolis. At this
establishment produce of all kinds was purchased, the value being
usually taken out in goods--a double profit thus being secured by the
management. Everything--from hardware to drapery, from groceries to
hymn-books could here be purchased.
It was at the establishment described that Uncle Diederick and Adrian
had disposed of their respective loads of produce, and Jacomina had had
a certain sum placed to her credit in the books. Each day she would
spend several hours wandering through the store, from one bewildering
room to another, and now and then making a small purchase after such
protracted deliberation and examination as drove the assistants well
over the bounds of distraction. The object which most fascinated
Jacomina was a dummy attired in gorgeous bridal array and enclosed in a
glazed frame. This model, strange to say, bore a remote resemblance to
Jacomina herself, and might have easily passed for an intentional
likeness had its inane simper been changed into a smart and decidedly
wide-awake expression.
No youthful artist hovered, fascinated, before Milo's Venus so devotedly
as did Jacomina before this glass shrine in which seemed to be housed
the Goddess of Love. She breathed no conscious prayer to the deity; yet
it was in one of her ecstasies of worship that an inspiration came to
her which eventuated in propitiously bringing about the end she had in
view.
Jacomina fell into bad spirits, and grew cold to her lover. Adrian
became distressed and redoubled his attentions. Jacomina one day
arranged so that she met Adrian on his way to the city. She tried to
avoid him, but he pursued her and persuaded her to accompany him for the
sake of the walk, which was to be to the shop of perennial attractions.
As the pair entered the establishment, Jacomina hesitated for an
instant, bent her head and seemed as though about to retrace her steps
into the street. A wild hope surged up in the breast of a counter-clerk
who had seen her approach, and now thought he was going to have a
respite.
Adrian became perplexed and bent over Jacomina's bowed head with
solicitude. Then, with a mighty effort she managed to raise a blush;
lifting her face, when she had succeeded, to that of her lover for a
ravishing instant. After a pause she allowed herself to be reluctantly
drawn into the building.
Before the door, which led into the drapery department--which Adrian had
not previously visited, stood the shrine, and from it the goddess beamed
down upon the pair with inane benignity. Adrian caught a glimpse of the
ravishing form, and was at once struck by the resemblance it bore to his
beloved. A wild tumult seethed up in his ingenuous breast. Just like
that, he felt, Jacomina would look if similarly attired. The
embarrassed damsel moved away, causing consternation behind the counter
she approached, and left her spell-bound adorer gaping.
Adrian transacted his business with masculine promptitude, and then
sought for Jacomina, whom he found at a counter absorbed in the
examination of many coils of ribbon. But she had executed the real
business she had visited the shop for to her entire satisfaction, so she
went away with her lover at once, leaving behind her a general sense of
relief.
Adrian tried to steer his course for an exit past the shrine, but
Jacomina knew it would be a better move to get out by another door.
When they were in the street Adrian began to refer to the subject which
had caused such a ferment in his bosom:
"Jacomyn--that girl in the white dress. I wonder who made her. She
looked just like you."
"Ach, Adrian,--how can you joke so?"
"Jacomina,--she's really just like you, only not half so pretty. I--I--
I'd like to see you in a dress like that, Jacomina."
"Ach, Adrian,--how can you talk like that? It's only town girls that
ever dress like that and then only--"
"But, Jacomyn,--when we get married you might buy that very dress and
put it on. I--I--I wonder if they'd sell it. They might easily make
another for the figure in the glass case."
Jacomina sighed deeply, and looked down with an air of mingled dejection
and confusion.
"That dress will be old before I will want it," she said.
"How can you talk like that? Why, I want you to put a dress like that
on very soon."
Jacomina sighed deeply and did not speak for a while. Then she sadly
said--raising, as she spoke, her eyes to Adrian's emotion-lit face:
"I know that my father will go to live at the old place as soon as we
return, and it will be years and years before he will ever come to Cape
Town again. No, Adrian,--you had better forget me, and look out for
some girl whose father will be able to bring her to Cape Town soon. I
do not want you to be bound to one who may have to keep you waiting such
a long, long time."
The sentence ended with a sob. They had now reached beyond the
outskirts of the dwellings, and were on a pathway which meandered
between patches of scrub. At an appropriate spot Jacomina darted in
behind a thicket, sank with every appearance of exhaustion on to a
stone, and burst into tears.
"Leave me,--leave me,"--she sobbed, as her lover, fondly solicitous,
attempted to console her. "I have had a dream; I know I shall never be
able to come to Cape Town again. Go away, Adrian, and find some girl
who will not have to keep you waiting for years and then die without
making you happy."
Adrian became seriously alarmed. Like most of his class, he was a firm
believer in dreams. Jacomina became more wildly dear at the thought of
losing her. His mind sought distractedly for an expedient to avert the
threatened doom. Then the memory of the goddess flitted across his
brain and gave him an inspiration.
"Jacomina,--I will buy that dress and we can be married at once. I will
go straight back now and ask the price of it."
Jacomina feebly shook her head, but surrendered herself insensibly to
her lover's embrace. Then followed hotly-pressed argument on his side,
feebly, but mournfully combated on hers. Eventually she agreed to leave
the matter in the joint hands of her lover and her father. She then
allowed herself to be led home, leaning heavily on the arm of her
enraptured adorer. Both were equally happy; each had gained that point
the attainment of which was most desired.
No difficulty was experienced in obtaining Uncle Diederick's consent to
speedy nuptials. Much distress was, however, felt by Adrian when he
found, on calling at the emporium next day, that the nuptial robe of the
goddess had been purchased by another prospective bride. When he
entered the establishment he found the goddess in a lamentable state.
The dress, the veil and the wreath of orange blossoms had disappeared.
The head and face were intact, but the rest of her once-ravishing form
was little else than a wiry skeleton,--not constructed upon any known
anatomical principles.
Adrian's heart sank; he thought of Jacomina's dream. He had made much
capital out of the garment and its accessories--he had, in fact, used
the goddess as a kind of battering ram wherewith to level Jacomina's
supposed objections to a speedy union; now he thought in his innocence
that Jacomina would draw back from the performance of her side of the
contract. After hurrying from the emporium with a sinking heart he
arrived, pale and breathless, at the wagon. Uncle Diederick happened to
be in the City, engaged in the selection of drugs.
"Jacomina,"--panted Adrian, "the dress is gone--sold to someone else--
and it will take a week before another can be made. Do you think Pa
will wait for a few days more?"
Uncle Diederick had this peculiarity: if he announced his intention of
doing any given thing on a given day, he stuck to his word; nothing
short of absolute necessity would stop him. It was this that Adrian had
in view. Uncle Diederick had said that he meant to start on the
following Monday; it was now Tuesday; wedding or no wedding it was quite
certain that he would not alter his plans.
Jacomina put on the look of a virgin saint who had just been condemned
to the lions.
"No, Adrian,--you know Pa _never_ waits." She spoke with a resigned
sigh.
"But, my little heart,--it will only be for two days."
"Pa _never_ waits. No, Adrian--we will bid each other good-bye--you
must forget me--My dream--If it had not been this it would have been
something else--Good-bye, Adrian--Think of me sometimes--"
She dissolved in tears. Adrian sprang to her side and tried to comfort
her, but she was beyond consolation for a long time. Then she ceased
weeping and sat with her eyes fixed steadfastly on the far away.
"No, Adrian,--I had another dream last night. I thought I met an old
Bushwoman gathering roots in the veld, and she said to me that if any
delay came you and I would never be married. Good-bye, Adrian,--I would
only bring you bad luck. Go and find some other girl--but don't--forget
me--altogether."
The last words were spoken with a sobbing catch. Adrian became
agonised. Jacomina, exhausted by her emotions, allowed him to possess
her waist and draw her to him.
"If you would not mind--Of course I know it would not be what I had
promised--but as you have had those dreams;--if you would not mind being
married in another dress;--we might get married on Monday, after all.
Come, Jacomyntye, what does the dress matter?"
Jacomina allowed herself to be persuaded, leaving her lover under the
impression that she was conferring a great favour upon him. But the
shadow of an abiding sadness was upon her visage, as though she saw the
hand of Fate uplifted to strike her. She told her lover that he was not
to hope too much--that she felt as though something were sure to
intervene at the last moment. This made Adrian feverishly anxious that
the ceremony should take place and, had it been possible, he would have
marched down to the church and had the knot tied at once.
Jacomina told him that she did not want to trouble her father, who was
enjoying himself so much, with her forebodings, and accordingly, her
manner in Uncle Diederick's presence was as cheerful as usual. Adrian
was much impressed by this evidence of filial feeling. He grew more and
more enamoured as the hours dragged slowly past, and shuddered
increasingly at the imminent catastrophe to which Jacomina continually
alluded when the lovers were alone.
At length the blissful day dawned. A garment somewhat less ambitious
than that which had clothed the goddess in the glass case had been
hurriedly put together for the occasion, Adrian calling on the
sempstress several times each day, to enquire how the important work was
progressing. After the ceremony, the bridal party returned to the
wagon, and thence to the du Plessis' house, where a small feast had been
prepared.
Jacomina, feeling herself at a disadvantage, was anxious to get away.
Adrian was speechless with bliss, and had no eyes for anyone but his
bride. He did not appear to advantage in his new store-clothes, which
did not suit his stalwart form nearly as well as the rough, home-made
garments to which he was accustomed. Uncle Diederick enjoyed himself
immensely. He had never previously tasted champagne; under the
influence of the seductive wine he nearly went the length of proposing
marriage to Helena.
In the afternoon a start was made. Uncle Diederick's wagon had been
comfortably fitted up for Elsie. Gertrude and Helena accompanied their
friend as far as the first outspan place, where a farewell libation of
coffee was poured out from tin pannikins. The wagon with the
newly-married pair started first; that of Uncle Diederick remaining
until the pony-carriage, which was sent out to fetch the two girls,
arrived.
The wagon with its green sides and long white tent rolled heavily away
over the sand. The two girls gazed through their tears until this ship
of the desert which bore back to the unheeding wilds this strange and
beautiful creature who had brightened their home during four happy
years, slowly disappeared.