MARIE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVIII, Issue 14809, 12 October 1911, Page 4

MARIE.

BY H. EIDER HAGGARD. . AN EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF THE | LATE ALLAN QUARTERMAIN.

PCitISHED BT: SPECIAL AEBASGEMEXT.

- . COPYRIGHT. ;' . CHAPTER IV. HEEXAXDG PEREIBA. - On this third day my mind was brought back from its wanderings by the sound of a great- noise about the house, above which I heard the voice of Marais storming and shouting, and that of my father trying to calm him. Presently Marie entered the room, drawing-to behind her a fvaflir kaross, which served as a curtain, for the door, it will be remembered, had been torn out. Seeing that- I was awake >nd reasonable, she flew to my side with . « little cry of joy, and. kneeling down, kissed me on the forehead. % * You have: been very ill, Allan, but I know von will recover now. While we fire alone, which," she added slowly and Jcith meaning. "I dare say we shall not !>e ranch in future, I want to thank you Jrom my heart for all that you did to Save me. Had it cot been foe you, oh

had it not been for you"— she glanced at the blood stains on the* earthen floor, put her hands before her eyes and! shuddered. "Nonsense, Marie,' 1 answered, taking her band feebly enough, for 1 wsa very weak. "Anyone else would have done as much, even if they did not love you as I do. Let us thank God that it was not in vain. But what is all that noise? Have the Quabies come back?" She shook her head. y "No: the Boers have come back from hunting them." : ;■. 1 " And did they catch them and recover the cattle?" * . ."Not so. They only found some wounded men, : whom they shot, and the body of Monsieur Leblane with his head cut off, taken, away with other bits of him {or medicine, they say to make the "warriors brave. Quabie has burnt his kraal and fled with all his people to join the other Kaffirs in. the Big Mountains. Not ; a cow or a sheep did they find, except a tew that had fallen exhausted, and those: had their throats cut. My father wanted to follow them and attack the Red Kaffirs in the mountains,'but the others would not go. v. They - said there are thousands of : them, and that i - l * would be a mad war, from which not one of them would return I alive. He : s wild with grief and rage, for, Allan dear, ■we -? re; almost S ruined, especially as the y British Government are freeing the slaves and only: going/to, give us a very - small trice, not, a: third ;of '■ their value*. : V But, hark! lie is calling me. > and you must k;not talk much or excite ; yourself, lest.yon ~be ill again. ' Now you have to sleep and i eat and get strong. : Afterwards, dear, i you may talk " and bending down once ' more she blessed and kissed me, then rose 1 and glided away.: 4 v ,/ . v Several more days-passed before I was allowed out of that little war-stained room of ; which I grew to hate the very sight., 1 entreated my father to take me "into the i ; air, but Ihe would not. "saying . that he '£i feared lest any. movement should cause the ; bleeding to ,i begin or even f the j cut artery to burst. - Moreover, the wound r was 'not healing very well, the : spear that caused /«^ t having been V dirty, or perhaps used to ;.... ekin , dead w animals, which caused some dread of gangrene, that ?in those ; days generally, meant death. ,As£ it chanced, although . I -'to-treated only with cold : Vater. - fox- antiseptics were then unknown. Say young and healthy blood triumphed »nd no gangrene appeared. » : . What made those days)even: duller was that during i them; j I saw very little of Marie, who now only entered ;the splice in the company of her - father. One© I. managed to ask her why she did not come . ofteher and alone. " Because it is not al-

. lowed. Allan,"> and then without another word left- the place. j Why;, I -wondered yto myself,- was it not allowed, and an answer "sprang up in" Ttny mind. ;. Doubtless it was : because ot i that tall ; young : man who had argued with. ;/ ray. father /in the > waggon-house. // Marie ? never; spoken ■ to; me of him, but from" : the Hottentot- Hans and my father I 1 managed to collect a" good ; deal .of information concerning him and: his business. {'■:■ It appeared 1 that he was the only, child I of : HenriV Marais's /faster, who married a ... Portuguese from Deiagoa Bay of the name of Pereira, who had > come to {the/(Cape i Colony-to / trade : many : years before and ■■■}■. settled there. Both' he and his .wifa were / dead./ and their son, Hernando, Marie's •cousin, had Inherited/ all their .; very conr, siderable wealth. / " t ; Indeed, now I remembered having heard . this Hernando, or Heman, as the Boers " called :i him -/ for short, spoken of in = past j > years by -the Heer Marais as the heir to great itches, since his father had /made a ! large j. fortune ;i by ; r trading; in wine / and j /j: spirits ; under /some Government monopoly I •t /.which he i held. -; Often he had ; been - in- j / vited to visit Maraisfontein, but his j / / parents, who doted' on , him and lived in j one of the settled districts not- : far from I j Capetown, (would • never allow him - to j :qtravel so far from . them into these wild I regions.. . . j Since their death,; however, things had j changed. It appeared that on the decease of old Pereira the Governor of the Colony ; had . withdrawn .. the wine . and spirit monopoly,"/ which he ; said was a job- and a scandal./; an act that made Hernando • Pereira very, angry, although ?he - needed : no , more money, and had ; caused him to V throw himself heart and soul into the ' schemes of the disaffected Boers. . Indeed, - he was now engaged as one of the organ- ] izers of the Great Trek - which was ;in i contemplation. In fact, it had already ; begun, into the partially,: explored land i beyond the borders of the colony, where ! ; the Dutch. farmers proposed to set up : dominions of their own. V / • That was the story of Hernando Pereira, who was to be—nay, had already become—my rival for the hand of the sweet and beautiful Marie Marais. •: One night when my father and I were aione in the little room where be slept with me, and he had finished reading his evening portion of Scripture aloud, I f lucked up my courage to tell him that I loved Marie and wished to marry her, and that we had plighted our troth during the attack of the Kaffirs on the stead. -"Love and war- indeed!" he said, looking at- me gravely, but showing no signs of surprise, for it appeared that he was already acquainted with our secret. That - was not wonderful, for he informed me afterwards that during.my delirium I had done nothing except rave of Marie in the most endearing terms. Also Marie herself, when I was at my worst, had burst into tears " before / him and told him straight that she loved me. _ - v -; " Love and war indeed !"' he repeated, adding kindly. "My i poor boy, I fear that you have fallen into great trouble." "Why, father?" I asked. "Is it wrong that we should love each other?" " Not wrong, but in the circumstances quite natural—l should have foreseen that it. was sure to happen. No, not wrong, but -most unfortunate. To begin with, I do not wish to see you marry a foreigner and become mixed up with these disloyal Boers. I hoped that one day. a. good many years lienoe. for you are only a boy, Allan, you would find an English wife, and I still hope it." " Never!" I ejaculated. "Never is a long word, Allan, and I daresay that what you are so sure is impossible will happen after all—words > that made me angry enough at the tiniA. ] . though in after years I often thought oi i i them.

•'Bui,"-lie went on. "putting my own wishes, perhaps prejudices, aside. I think your suit, hopeless. Although Henri Marais likes you well enough and is grateful to you just now because you have saved the daughter whom he loves, you must remember that he hates us English bitterly, I believe that he would almost as soon see his : girl ' marry a .■half-caste V as : an Englishman, : and i especially a poor Englishman, as ; you" are. and unless " you can make money.'''.-.must remain. . I have little" to leave jou, Allan.''> V :

[*- " I might,make money, father, out of ivory, - for ■■ instance. You know-I am a [ good shot." 9 " Allan, T do not think you will ever make much money, it. is not in your blood; or if you do, you will not keep it. We are an old race, "and I; know our record, "up -to the time of Henry VIII. at any rate. Not one of us was ever commercially successful. Let us suppose, however, that you should prove yourself the exception to the rule, it can't be done at once, can" it? Fortunes don't grow in a night like mushrooms." " No, 1 suppose not, father. Still, one might have some luck." " Possibly. But meanwhile you have to fight against a. man who has the luck, oi rather the money in his pocket." "What do you mean? I asked, sitting

up. - - "I mean Hernando Pereira, Allan, Marais's nephew, who they say is one of the richest men "in the colony. I know that he wishes to marry Marie." "How do you know" it, father?" " Because Marais told me so this afternoon. probably with a purpose. He was struck with her beauty when he £*st saw her after your escape,. which he had not done since she was a chlid, and as he stopped to guard the house while the rest went after the Quabies —well, you- can guess. Such things go quickly with these Southern men." 1 hid my face in the pillow, biting my lips to keep back the groan that was read* to burst from _ them, for 1 -felt the hopelessness of the situation. How could I compete with this rich and fortunate man, who naturally would be favoured of my bet rot heds father? Then on the blackness of my despair rose a star of hope. I could not, but perchance Marie might. ' She was very strong-natured and very faithful. She was not to bo bought, and I doubted whether she could" be

frightened. "Father," I said, "I may never marry Marie, but I don't think that Hernando Pereira ever will either." , ' "Why not. my boy?" " Because she loves me, father, and she is not one to change. I believe that she would rather die." "Then she must be a very unusual sort of woman. Still, it may be so; the future will tell to those who live to see it. I can only pray and trust that whatever happens "will be for the best- of both of you. She is a sweet girl and I like 1 her well, although she may be Boeror French. And now, Allan, we have talked enough, and ; you had better go to sleep. You must not excite yourself, you know, or it may set up new inflammation in the wound." . * ' "' •- ~« ;

"Go to sleep. Mast not excite yourselE." I;kept muttering these, words for hours, serving them up" in my mind with a, spice of bitter thoughts. ... At last torpor, or weakness, overcame me, and I fell into a kind of net of bad dreams - which, thank Heaven, I have now forgotten. Yet wheix certain events happened subsequently I always thought,.and indeed still think, that, ; these or something like them had been a part- of t hose evil dreams. On 4 the morning following this conversation JL was at length allowed to be carried to the stoep, t where they laid me down, wrapped in a very dirty blanket, upon a*, rimpi-strung bench or primitive sofa. When I had satisfied mv first tielight. at ' seeing the sun ' and I breathing the fresh air, I began to study my surroundings. In front of the house, or what- remained of it, so arranged that the last of them at either end were-made fast to the extremities of-the stoep, was arranged an arc of" waggons, placed as they are in a laager and> protected underneath by earth ' thrown up in a * mound "arid by boughs of the mimosa 6 thorn. Evidently these! waggjucs, in which the guard of Boers and : armed; natives who still remained on the place slept at night, were set ; thus as , a defence against a , possible attack by the Quabies or other Kaffirs. ■. During the daytime, however, the centre waggon was < drawn a little on one side to i leave a -kind of gate. Through this opening ' I saw that ■"? a -long wall, also semi-circular, had been built - outside of them., enclosing /a space large enough to contain at ' night all the cattle and horses that were left to the Heer Marais, together with, those of hit friends, who evi- | dently did J not: wish to see their oxen ; vanish" into* the depths of - the mountains. In the middle of this extemporised kraal i was a long, low mound, which, as I I learned ' ■ afterwards, contained 1 the dead | who fell tin the attack on j the house. $ The ; two slaves who had been killed in the defence, were buried in the little garden that Marie had • made, arid ' the . headless body of Leblanc in a small walled place to the right of the stead,'.where lay some of its former owners and one or .two relatives of the Heer Marais, including his wife. . Whilst I was noting these things Marie appeared at the end of-the verandah, having come round the burnt part of the ■ house, followed by Hernan Pereira. Catch- j ing i sight of . me, she ran to the side of j my couch with . outstretched arms * as ; though she intended to embrace me. Then, | seeming to remember, stopped suddenly at my aide, coloured to her hair, and said in an embarrassed voice : v " Oh, Heer Allan "—she had never called me Heer in her ; life before" I am so glad to ; find you out! How hare you been getting on?" '• ".Pretty well, I thank you," I answered,- my lips, "as you - would have learnt, Marie, had you come to see me." -

Next moment I was .sorry. for the words, for I saw her eyes fill with tears and her breast shake with something like a sob. ■ However, it was Pereira and not Marie who answered, for at the moment I believe she could not speak. "My good boy," he said in a pompous, patronising way and in English, - which lie knew perfectly. "I think that my cousin has had plenty to do caring for all these people during the last few days without running to look at the cut in your leg. However, lam glad to hear from your worthy father that it is almost well, "and that you will soon be able to play games again, like others of your age. / {To be continued daily.) ;