Part 10 (2/2)
When she reached that stage of her adventures wherein she left the dwelling of the kind old coloured woman, she instinctively pa.s.sed her hand over her knees to feel if she still wore the dress which had been lent her then. Again she ascended the rugged slopes of Table Mountain, with her ears filled with the horrid shouts of the persecuting boys.
The long-waited-for Kanu seemed so imminent that she bent her ear to listen for his expected step in the sound of the rocking surf. Then her terror of the baboons returned upon her like a hurricane sweeping everything away in fury; she started up with a shriek and tried to rush away.
”Oh G.o.d,--the baboons. Kanu--Kanu.”
”Hush--hush, dear,” said the soothing voice of Helena; ”you are safe with us; nothing can hurt you. Feel--we are holding you safely.”
The sudden rupture of the cells in the blind girl's brain, within which the terrors of that dire morning of four years back were pent, was like the breaking of the Seventh Seal. The shock almost unseated her reason.
However, she gradually came to realise that she was with friends, whose tender touch brought comfort and a sense of safety. For the moment the last four years of her life were as effectually blotted out as though they had never been. Then, as a tortured sea gradually gla.s.ses over when the storm-cloud has pa.s.sed on, although it yet heaves with silent unrest, her mind began to calm down and the recollection of more recent events to dawn upon the verge of her consciousness.
”But where is Kanu? Why did he not come back to me?”
”Was Kanu the Bushman who led you about?” asked Helena, gently.
”Kanu left me on the mountain and went to find out where the Governor lived.--My father--How long ago is it--Where have I been?”
”What is your father's name and where does he live?” asked Gertrude.
”My father is in prison, but he is innocent, and only Kanu and I know the truth. We came to tell the Governor, so that he might let my father out.”
”Come, Agatha,--let us go back to mother and tell her.”
”My name is not Agatha,--my name is Elsie,--Elsie van der Walt.”
The two girls looked at each other in surprise, recalling the name of the prisoner in whom Mr Brand was so much interested, and of whom he had spoken several times. After gently a.s.sisting Elsie to arise they led her to where the other members of the party were waiting. Helena then drew her mother and Mr Brand aside and told them of what had occurred.
”Find out her father's Christian name,” said the latter; ”if it is Stepha.n.u.s you may safely tell her that she will be taken to him to-morrow. I will get permission to-night and arrange to have a boat ready in the morning.”
”Elsie,” said Helena, pa.s.sing her arm over the bewildered girl's shoulder, ”is your father's name Stepha.n.u.s van der Walt?”
”Yes--yes,--that is his name. Is he still in prison?”
”He is still in prison, but he is well. You will be taken to him to-morrow.”
The light of a great happiness seemed to radiate from Elsie's face. At last--at last--The compensation for the long travail was about to be hers. And he--the innocent and long-suffering, would be freed from his bonds.
The eventful day was drawing to a close, so preparations for the return homeward were at once made. Mr Brand started on foot for Cape Town, by a short cut. He meant to call upon the magistrate at once and obtain a written permission to visit Robben Island and see the prisoner on the following day.
As the party drove homeward Elsie was wrapped in a trance of utter happiness. The lovely day had ripened into a sunset-flower of gorgeous and surpa.s.sing richness, and, as the pony drew the little carriage up the hill-side to the peaceful home among the trees, its rarest light seemed to be intensified in and reflected from the radiant face of the blind girl.
Elsie spoke no more that night, and the others made no attempt to disturb her blissful silence. In the middle of the night Mrs du Plessis arose, lit a candle and stepped softly to the room where the blind girl slept alone. She was dreaming, and her lips were parted in a smile.
Her long, brown lashes lay darkly fringed upon her cheeks, her face and throat had lost their marble pallor and were faintly tinged with the most delicate rose. Adown her sides and completely concealing her arms flowed the double cataract of her peerless hair. Across her bosom and concealing her clasped hands, the streams coalesced into a golden billow which, as it heaved to her breath showed full of changing lights.
The kind woman gazed, spell-bound, until happy tears came and blurred her vision. Then, with thanks to the Power which had sent this angel to her household upon her lips, she noiselessly withdrew.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
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