CHAPTER VI
MISS HEDA
It might be thought that after all this there would have been a
painful explanation on the following morning, but nothing of the
sort happened. After all the greatest art is the art of ignoring
things, without which the world could scarcely go on, even among
the savage races. Thus on this occasion the two chief actors in
the scene of the previous night pretended that they had forgotten
what took place, as I believe, to a large extent truly. The
fierce flame of drink in the one and of passion in the other had
burnt the web of remembrance to ashes. They knew that something
unpleasant had occurred and its main outlines; the rest had
vanished away; perhaps because they knew also that they were not
responsible for what they said and did, and therefore that what
occurred had no right to a permanent niche in their memories. It
was, as it were, something outside of their normal selves. At
least so I conjectured, and their conduct seemed to give colour
to my guess.
The doctor spoke to me of the matter first.
"I fear there was a row last night," he said; "it has happened
here before over cards, and will no doubt happen again until
matters clear themselves up somehow. Marnham, as you see,
drinks, and when drunk is the biggest liar in the world, and I, I
am sorry to say, am cursed with a violent temper. Don't judge
either of us too harshly. If you were a doctor you would know
that all these things come to us with our blood, and we didn't
fashion our own clay, did we? Have some coffee, won't you?"
Subsequently when Rodd wasn't there, Marnham spoke also and with
that fine air of courtesy which was peculiar to him.
"I owe a deep apology," he said, "to yourself and Mr. Anscombe.
I do not recall much about it, but I know there was a scene last
night over those cursed cards. A weakness overtakes me
sometimes. I will say no more, except that you, who are also a
man who perhaps have felt weaknesses of one sort or another,
will, I hope, make allowances for me and pay no attention to
anything that I may have said or done in the presence of guests;
yes, that is what pains me--in the presence of guests."
Something in his distinguished manner caused me to reflect upon
every peccadillo that I had ever committed, setting it in its
very worst light.
"Quite so," I answered, "quite so. Pray do not mention the
matter any more, although--" These words seemed to jerk
themselves out of my throat, "you did call each other by such
very hard names."
"I daresay," he answered with a vacant smile, "but if so they
meant nothing."
"No, I understand, just like a lovers' quarrel. But look here,
you left some diamonds on the table which I took to keep the
Kaffirs out of temptation. I will fetch them."
"Did I? Well, probably I left some I.O.U.'s also which might
serve for pipelights. So suppose we set the one against the
other. I don't know the value of either the diamonds or the
pipelights, it may be less or more, but for God's sake don't let
me see the beastly things again. There's no need, I have
plenty."
"I must speak to Anscombe," I answered. "The money at stake was
his, not mine."
"Speak to whom you will," he replied, and I noted that the
throbbing vein upon his forehead indicated a rising temper. "But
never let me see those diamonds again. Throw them into the
gutter if you wish, but never let me see them again, or there
will be trouble."
Then he flung out of the room, leaving his breakfast almost
untasted.
Reflecting that this queer old bird probably did not wish to be
cross-questioned as to his possession of so many uncut diamonds,
or that they were worth much less than the sum he had lost, or
possibly that they were not diamonds at all but glass, I went to
report the matter to Anscombe. He only laughed and said that as
I had got the things I had better keep them until something
happened, for we had both got it into our heads that something
would happen before we had done with that establishment.
So I went to put the stones away as safely as I could. While I
was doing so I heard the rumble of wheels, and came out just in
time to see a Cape cart, drawn by four very good horses and
driven by a Hottentot in a smart hat and a red waistband, pull up
at the garden gate. Out of this cart presently emerged a neatly
dressed lady, of whom all I could see was that she was young,
slender and rather tall; also, as her back was towards me, that
she had a great deal of auburn hair.
"There!" said Anscombe. "I knew that something would happen.
Heda has happened. Quatermain, as neither her venerated parent
nor her loving fiance, for such I gather he is, seems to be
about, you had better go and give her a hand."
I obeyed with a groan, heartily wishing that Heda hadn't
happened, since some sense warned me that she would only add to
the present complications. At the gate, having given some
instructions to a very stout young coloured woman who, I took it,
was her maid, about a basket of flower roots in the cart, she
turned round suddenly and we came face to face with the gate
between us. For a moment we stared at each other, I reflecting
that she really was very pretty with her delicately-shaped
features, her fresh, healthy-looking complexion, her long dark
eyelashes and her lithe and charming figure. What she reflected
about me I don't know, probably nothing half so complimentary.
Suddenly, however, her large greyish eyes grew troubled and a
look of alarm appeared upon her face.
"Is anything wrong with my father?" she asked. "I don't see
him."
"If you mean Mr. Marnham," I replied, lifting my hat, "I believe
that Dr. Rodd and he--"
"Never mind about Dr. Rodd," she broke in with a contemptuous
little jerk of her chin," how is my father?"
"I imagine much as usual. He and Dr. Rodd were here a little
while ago, I suppose that they have gone out" (as a matter of
fact they had, but in different directions).
"Then that's all right," she said with a sigh of relief. "You
see, I heard that he was very ill, which is why I have come
back."
So, thought I to myself, she loves that old scamp and
she--doesn't love the doctor. There will be more trouble as sure
as five and two are seven. All we wanted was a woman to make the
pot boil over.
Then I opened the gate and took a travelling bag from her hand
with my politest bow.
"My name is Quatermain and that of my friend Anscombe. We are
staying here, you know," I said rather awkwardly.
"Indeed," she answered with a delightful smile, "what a very
strange place to choose to stay in."
"It is a beautiful house," I remarked.
"Not bad, although I designed it, more or less. But I was
alluding to its inhabitants."
This finished me, and I am sure she felt that I could think of
nothing nice to say about those inhabitants, for I heard her
sigh. We walked side by side up the rose-fringed path and
presently arrived at the stoep, where Anscombe, whose hair I had
cut very nicely on the previous day, was watching us from his
long chair. They looked at each other, and I saw both of them
colour a little, out of mere foolishness, I suppose.
"Anscombe," I said, "this is--" and I paused, not being quite
certain whether she also was called Marnham. "Heda Marnham," she
interrupted.
"Yes--Miss Heda Marnham, and this is the Honourable Maurice
Anscombe."
"Forgive me for not rising, Miss Marnham," said Anscombe in his
pleasant voice (by the way hers was pleasant too, full and rather
low, with just a suggestion of something foreign about it). "A
shot through the foot prevents me at present."
"Who shot you?" she asked quickly.
"Oh! only a Kaffir."
"I am so sorry, I hope you will get well soon. Forgive me now, I
must go to look for my father."
"She is uncommonly pretty," remarked Anscombe, "and a lady into
the bargain. In reflecting on old Marnham's sins we must put it
to his credit that he has produced a charming daughter."
"Too pretty and charming by half," I grunted.
"Perhaps Dr. Rodd is of the same way of thinking. Great shame
that such a girl should be handed over to a medical scoundrel
like Dr. Rodd. I wonder if she cares for him?"
"Just about as much as a canary cares for a tom-cat. I have
found that out already."
"Really, Quatermain, you are admirable. I never knew anyone who
could make a better use of the briefest opportunity."
Then we were silent, waiting, not without a certain impatience,
for the return of Miss Heda. She did return with surprising
quickness considering that she had found time to search for her
parent, to change into a clean white dress, and to pin a single
hibiscus flower on to her bodice which gave just the touch of
colour that was necessary to complete her costume.
"I can't find my father," she said, "but the boys say he has gone
out riding. I can't find anybody. When you have been summoned
from a long way off and travelled post-haste, rather to your own
inconvenience, it is amusing, isn't it?"
"Wagons and carts in South Africa don't arrive like express
trains, Miss Marnham," said Anscombe, "so you shouldn't be
offended."
"I am not at all offended, Mr. Anscombe. Now that I know there
is nothing the matter with my father I'm--But, tell me, how did
you get your wound?"
So he told her with much amusing detail after his fashion. She
listened quietly with a puckered up brow and only made one
comment. It was,--
"I wonder what white man told those Sekukuni Kaffirs that you
were coming."
"I don't know," he answered, "but he deserves a bullet through
him somewhere above the ankle."
"Yes, though few people get what they deserve in this wicked
world."
"So I have often thought. Had it been otherwise, for example, I
should have been--"
"What would you have been?" she asked, considering him curiously.
"Oh! a better shot than Mr. Allan Quatermain, and as beautiful as
a lady I once saw in my youth."
"Don't talk rubbish before luncheon," I remarked sternly, and we
all laughed, the first wholesome laughter that I had heard at the
Temple. For this young lady seemed to bring happiness and
merriment with her. I remember wondering what it was of which
her coming reminded me, and concluding that it was like the sight
and smell of a peach orchard in full bloom stumbled on suddenly
in the black desert of the burnt winter veld.
After this we became quite friendly. She dilated on her skill in
having produced the Temple from an old engraving, which she
fetched and showed to us, at no greater an expense than it would
have cost to build an ordinary house.
"That is because the marble was at hand," said Anscombe.
"Quite so," she replied demurely. "Speaking in a general sense
one can do many things in life--if the marble is at hand. Only
most of us when we look for marble find sandstone or mud."
"Bravo!" said Anscombe, "I have generally lit upon the
sandstone."
"And I on the mud," she mused.
"And I on all three, for the earth contains marble and mud and
sandstone, to say nothing of gold and jewels," I broke in, being
tired of silence.
But neither of them paid much attention to me. Anscombe did say,
out of politeness, I suppose, that pitch and subterranean fires
should be added, or some such nonsense.
Then she began to tell him of her infantile memories of Hungary,
which were extremely faint; of how they came this place and lived
first of all in two large Kaffir huts, until suddenly they began
to grow rich; of her school days at Maritzburg; of the friends
with whom she had been staying, and I know not what, until at
last I got up and went out for a walk.
When I returned an hour or so later they were still talking, and
so continued to do until Dr. Rodd arrived upon the scene. At
first they did not see him, for he stood at an angle to them, but
I saw him and watched his face with a great deal of interest.
It, or rather its expression, was not pleasant; before now I have
seen something like it on that of a wild beast which thinks that
it is about to be robbed of its prey by a stronger wild beast, in
short, a mixture of hate, fear and jealousy--especially jealousy.
At the last I did not wonder, for these two seemed to be getting
on uncommonly well.
They were, so to speak, well matched. She, of course, was the
better looking of the two, a really pretty and attractive young
woman indeed, but the vivacity of Anscombe's face, the twinkle of
his merry blue eyes and its general refinement made up for what
he lacked--regularity of feature. I think he had just told her
one of his good stories which he always managed to make so
humorous by a trick of pleasing and harmless exaggeration, and
they were both laughing merrily. Then she caught sight of the
doctor and her merriment evaporated like a drop of water on a hot
shovel. Distinctly I saw her pull herself together and prepare
for something.
"How do you do?" she said rapidly, rising and holding out her
slim sun-browned hand. "But I need not ask, you look so well."
"How do you do, my dear," with a heavy emphasis on the "dear" he
answered slowly. "But I needn't ask, for I see that you are in
perfect health and spirits," and he bent forward as though to
kiss her.
Somehow or other she avoided that endearment or seal of
possession. I don't quite know how, as I turned my head away,
not wishing to witness what I felt to be unpleasant. When I
looked up again, however, I saw that she had avoided it, the
scowl on his face the demureness of hers and Anscombe's evident
amusement assured me of this. She was asking about her father;
he answered that he also seemed quite well.
"Then why did you write to tell me that I ought to come as he was
not at all well?" she inquired, with a lifting of her delicate
eyebrows.
The question was never answered, for at that moment Marnham
himself appeared.
"Oh! father," she said, and rushed into his arms, while he kissed
her tenderly on both cheeks.
So I was not mistaken, thought I to myself, she does really love
this moral wreck, and what is more, he loves her, which shows
that there must be good in him. Is anyone truly bad, I wondered,
or for the matter of that, truly good either? Is it not all a
question of circumstance and blood?
Neither then or at any other time have I found an answer to the
problem. At any rate to me there seemed something beautiful
about the meeting of these two.
The influence of Miss Heda in the house was felt at once. The
boys became smarter and put on clean clothes. Vases of flowers
appeared in the various rooms; ours was turned out and cleaned, a
disagreeable process so far as we were concerned. Moreover, at
dinner both Marnham and Rodd wore dress clothes with short
jackets, a circumstance that put Anscombe and myself to shame
since we had none. It was curious to see how with those dress
clothes, which doubtless awoke old associations within him,
Marnham changed his colour like a chameleon. Really he might
have been the colonel of a cavalry regiment rising to toast the
Queen after he had sent round the wine, so polite and polished
was his talk. Who could have identified the man with the dry old
ruffian of twenty-four hours before, he who was drinking claret
(and very good claret too) mixed with water and listening with a
polite interest to all the details of his daughter's journey?
Even the doctor looked a gentleman, which doubtless he was once
upon a time, in evening dress. Moreover, some kind of truce had
been arranged. He no longer called Miss Heda "My dear" or
attempted any familiarities, while she on more than one occasion
very distinctly called him Dr. Rodd.
So much for that night and for several others that followed. As
for the days they went by pleasantly and idly. Heda walked about
on her father's arm, conversed in friendly fashion with the
doctor, always watching him, I noticed, as a cat watches a dog
that she knows is waiting an opportunity to spring, and for the
rest associated with us as much as she could. Particularly did
she seem to take refuge behind my own insignificance, having, I
suppose, come to the conclusion that I was a harmless person who
might possibly prove useful. But all the while I felt that the
storm was banking up. Indeed Marnham himself, at any rate to a
great extent, played the part of the cloud-compelling Jove, for
soon it became evident to me, and without doubt to Dr. Rodd also,
that he was encouraging the intimacy between his daughter and
Anscombe by every means in his power.
In one way and another he had fully informed himself as to
Anscombe's prospects in life, which were brilliant enough.
Moreover he liked the man who, as the remnant of the better
perceptions of his youth told him, was one of the best class of
Englishmen, and what is more, he saw that Heda liked him also, as
much indeed as she disliked Rodd. He even spoke to me of the
matter in a round-about kind of fashion, saying that the young
woman who married Anscombe would be lucky and that the father who
had him for a son-in-law might go to his grave confident of his
child's happiness. I answered that I agreed with him, unless the
lady's affections had already caused her to form other ties.
"Affections!" he exclaimed, dropping all pretence, "there are
none involved in this accursed business, as you are quite sharp
enough to have seen for yourself."
"I understood that an engagement was involved," I remarked.
"On my part, perhaps, not on hers," he answered. "Oh! can't you
understand, Quatermain, that sometimes men find themselves forced
into strange situations against their will?"
Remembering the very ugly name that I had heard Rodd call Marnham
on the night of the card party, I reflected that I could
understand well enough, but I only said--
"After all marriage is a matter that concerns a woman even more
than it does her father, one, in short, of which she must be the
judge."
"Quite so, Quatermain, but there are some daughters who are
prepared to make great sacrifices for their fathers. Well, she
will be of age ere long, if only I can stave it off till then.
But how, how?" and with a groan he turned and left me.
That old gentleman's neck is in some kind of a noose, thought I
to myself, and his difficulty is to prevent the rope from being
drawn tight. Meanwhile this poor girl's happiness and future are
at stake.
"Allan," said Anscombe to me a little later, for by now he called
me by my Christian name, "I suppose you haven't heard anything
about those oxen, have you?"
"No, I could scarcely expect to yet, but why do you ask?"
He smiled in his droll fashion and replied, "Because, interesting
as this household is in sundry ways, I think it is about time
that we, or at any rate that I, got out of it."
"Your leg isn't fit to travel yet, Anscombe, although Rodd says
that all the symptoms are very satisfactory."
"Yes, but to tell you the truth I am experiencing other symptoms
quite unknown to that beloved physician and so unfamiliar to
myself that I attribute them to the influences of the locality.
Altitude affects the heart, does it not, and this house stands
high."
"Don't play off your jokes on me," I said sternly. "What do you
mean?"
"I wonder if you find Miss Heda attractive, Allan, or if you are
too old. I believe there comes an age when the only beauties
that can move a man are those of architecture, or scenery, or
properly cooked food."
"Hang it all! I am not Methusaleh," I replied; "but if you mean
that you are falling in love with Heda, why the deuce don't you
say so, instead of wasting my time and your own?"
"Because time was given to us to waste. Properly considered it
is the best use to which it can be put, or at any rate the one
that does least mischief. Also because I wished to make you say
it for me that I might judge from the effect of your words
whether it is or is not true. I may add that I fear the former
to be the case."
"Well, if you are in love with the girl you can't expect one so
ancient as myself, who is quite out of touch with such follies,
to teach you how to act."
"No, Allan. Unfortunately there are occasions when one must
rely upon one's own wisdom, and mine, what there is of it, tells
me I had better get out of this. But I can't ride even if I took
the horse and you ran behind, and the oxen haven't come."
"Perhaps you could borrow Miss Marnham's cart in which to run
away from her," I suggested sarcastically.
"Perhaps, though I believe it would be fatal to my foot to sit up
in a cart for the next few days, and the horses seem to have been
sent off somewhere. Look here, old fellow," he went on, dropping
his bantering tone, "it's rather awkward to make a fool of
oneself over a lady who is engaged to some one else, especially
if one suspects that with a little encouragement she might begin
to walk the same road. The truth is I have taken the fever
pretty bad, worse than ever I did before, and if it isn't stopped
soon it will become chronic."
"Oh no, Anscombe, only intermittent at the worst, and African
malaria nearly always yields to a change of climate."
"How can I expect a cynic and a misogynist to understand the
simple fervour of an inexperienced soul--Oh! drat it all,
Quatermain, stop your acid chaff and tell me what is to be done.
Really I am in a tight place."
"Very; so tight that I rejoice to think, as you were kind enough
to point out, that my years protect me from anything of the sort.
I have no advice to give; I think you had better ask it of the
lady."
"Well, we did have a little conversation, hypothetical of course,
about some friends of ours who found themselves similarly
situated, and I regret to say without result."
"Indeed. I did not know you had any mutual acquaintances. What
did she say and do?"
"She said nothing, only sighed and looked as though she were
going to burst into tears, and all she did was to walk away. I'd
have followed her if I could, but as my crutch wasn't there it
was impossible. It seemed to me that suddenly I had come up
against a brick wall, that there was something on her mind which
she could not or would not let out.
"Yes, and if you want to know, I will tell you what it is. Rodd
has got a hold over Marnham of a sort that would bring him
somewhere near the gallows. As the price of his silence Marnham
has promised him his daughter. The daughter knows that her
father is in this man's power, though I think she does not know
in what way, and being a good girl--"
"An angel you mean--do call her by her right name, especially in
a place where angels are so much wanted."
"Well, an angel if you like--she has promised on her part to
marry a man she loathes in order to save her parent's bacon."
"Just what I concluded, from what we heard in the row. I wonder
which of that pair is the bigger blackguard. Well, Allan, that
settles it. You and I are on the side of the angel. You will
have to get her out of this scrape and--if she'll have me, I'll
marry her; and if she won't, why it can't be helped. Now that's
a fair division of labour. How are you going to do it? I haven't
an idea, and if I had, I should not presume to interfere with one
so much older and wiser than myself."
"I suppose that by the time you appeared in it, the game of heads
I win and tails you lose had died out of the world," I replied
with an indignant snort. "I think the best thing I can do will
be to take the horse and look for those oxen. Meanwhile you can
settle your business by the light of your native genius, and I
only hope you'll finish it without murder and sudden death."
"I say, old fellow," said Anscombe earnestly, "you don't really
mean to go off and leave me in this hideousness? I haven't
bothered much up to the present because I was sure that you would
find a way out, which would be nothing to a man of your intellect
and experience. I mean it honestly, I do indeed."
"Do you? Well, I can only say that my mind is a perfect blank,
but if you will stop talking I will try to think the matter over.
There's Miss Heda in the garden cutting flowers. I will go to
help her, which will be a very pleasant change."
And I went, leaving him to stare after me jealously.
