Part 14 (1/2)
”A good way to comfort one,” he growled ungraciously, ”to wander away with a Bushman and make us run all over the country looking for you.”
”Would you like to know, truly, why I went, Uncle Gideon?”
”Oh, as you are back all right now and have had enough to eat, wherever you have been, it does not matter; you can tell me some other time.-- Only you must not do such a thing again.”
”No,--there will be no need for me to do the like again.”
Gideon left the room, feeling more and more puzzled. Each one of Elsie's ambiguous remarks sent his speculations farther and farther afield. One thing only was clear to him,--it was time to carry out that intention which had been gradually growing of late years as time went by and his brother did not, as the miserable man had confidently expected, die in prison. This was the intention, previously unformulated, of finally leaving wife, home and everything else and trekking to some unknown spot far beyond the great, mysterious Gariep,--to some spot so distant that his brother's vengeance would not be able to reach him, and there spending the remnant of his miserable days.
To do Gideon but justice, the strongest element in his dread of meeting Stepha.n.u.s was not physical but moral. He felt he could not bear to confront the stern accusation which he pictured as arising in the injured man's piercing eyes. He feared death, for he dared not meet his G.o.d with this unrepented crime on his soul, but he feared it less than the eyes of his injured brother,--that brother whom he had robbed of ten precious years of life.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
GIDEON'S FLIGHT TO THE WILDERNESS.
After Gideon had become somewhat accustomed to Elsie's presence that awe with which she had at first inspired him began to lessen. Now that he meant to go away finally nothing she knew or could do mattered to him very much. He was fond of Aletta in a way,--more or less as one is fond of a faithful dog, but she was the only being in the wide world who cared for him, so he felt the prospect of parting from her very keenly.
He determined to make a full confession of his transgression to her before leaving, feeling persuaded that thenceforth she would look upon him with abhorrence and thus would not sorrow at his departure. The thought that he was about to destroy his patient wife's regard for his lonely self was not the least of Gideon's troubles.
He tried to carry off his distress with an air of unconcern which, however, did not deceive anyone. As the preparations for his departure were being hurried towards completion he became more talkative than usual. Aletta, at the near prospect of the parting, was sunk in the depths of misery. Adrian and his wife who resided with Uncle Gideon, now and then visited the homestead. Jacomina had refused to leave her father, on the pretext that her a.s.sistance in his medical practice was indispensable. The true reason was, however, that she wanted, if possible, to prevent him marrying again.
Elsie, to whom the night was as the day, continued her old habit of wandering abroad after all the others had gone to bed. She invariably dressed in light colours and used to flit like a ghost among the trees.
Gideon had dubbed her ”White Owl,” and he never addressed her as anything else.
Two days before Gideon's intended departure the three were sitting at breakfast. A messenger who had been despatched to the residence of the Field Cornet, some forty miles away, was seen approaching. Gideon was in one of his forced sardonic moods.
”Aletta,” he said, ”your eyes are red again; have you been boiling soap?”
”No, Gideon; it is not only the steam from the soap-pot that reddens the eyes.”
”Has the maid spoilt a batch of bread? If she has, _her_ eyes ought to be red and not yours.”
”No, Gideon,--the bread has been well baked.”
”What is the matter, then? Sunday, Monday and Tuesday your face is like a pumpkin when the rain is falling; Wednesday, Thursday and Friday the water is still running; Sat.u.r.day it is not dry. Did you ever laugh in your life?”
”It is long since I have heard you laugh, Gideon.”
”I? I can laugh now,--Well,--you have never seen me weep.”
”Would to G.o.d you did rather than laugh like that.”
”Uncle Gideon,” said Elsie, ”one day your tears will flow.”
”When will that day come, White Owl?”
”When my father's prison doors are opened.”
Gideon glared at her, terror and fury writ large upon his distorted face. Just then a knock was heard; Aletta arose and went to the door where she found the returned messenger, who had just off-saddled his horse. She came back to the table and silently laid a letter before Gideon who, when he recognised the handwriting started violently. After looking at the letter for a few seconds he picked it up as though about to open it; then he flung the missive down and hurried from the room.