LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1717, 21 August 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

BOBOUGH-ENGLI9H. A Tale or South African Liee. By Copia Fandi, S.C.L., Author of "Twelve True Tales of the Law." Chapter Vlll.— (Continued.) ' From a stranger to the country, and newly arrived from England, I suppose,'said Dolly, drily; ' but I will mention what you say, and will give you credit for all sincerity.' ' Do not banter me,' said he, ' I pray you. It is your habit, I know, but the application of such a weapon is pesuliarly ungenerous to me. It was in consequence of your ridiculo that I was impelled to make you the only speech which I ever regret. I have never ceased to regret it; but I ask you to share the blame with me.' ' You said you would ruin my father and would marry me.' * Ah 1 Miss Brokeaby, it was anger —unthinking, unrestrained anger at your taunta —that made me use the threat, but it was the unconquerable resolution of a deep attachment which dictated the intention I announced. Mi3B Brokesby, you know that I love yon.' Poor Doily felt the situation awkward. She was allowing herself, on her wedding dny, to be addressed by her maiden name, and to hear an expression of unaltered love from a former suitor. Honor required her to undeceive him, but, all alone as she was, could she daro to do it ? Where was Sintwango? She rose to go to the door. * No,' said the Major, Intercepting her, and ' putting his hand across the door. ' You must

not leave me; yon must hear me out ; I love ytfa. 'Sot! know it. I have proved it to you. When your father hesitated about allowing me' to pay an addresses to you I stood aloof. That was tho impulse of honor and of affection. As for any money nastters between me and your dear father,- perhaps you will be satisSed when the" conduct of s soldier who has served his country with credit, and the word of a man who ias never beea doubted, sbs.ll hare passed the ordeal of you*attorney's approval $ but. if you imagine that a single thoucht of greed could taint my admiration for a creatare so adorabli, I will marry you without a penny. I will burn the'will by which your riehes are secured to yen.' And he unfolded the and held' it towards the candle, as he watched tho countenance of the girl. 'This has gone on too long,' said Ehe. ' I cannot listen to jou. It is my duty to undeceive you. That nothing I hav3 done gives you the right thus-to address me, ib known to you already ; but, if it had not been for your rapid utterance and for my respect for tha professed occasion of your visit, I should have told you that T am already married.' ' Married ?' screamed tho Major. 'Yes,' said Dolly trembling, 'I was married this morning to Mr John Smith.' Lowcraft still stood motionless, holding out the will the candle. For an instant his face was pale and his eye was blank and colourless, but in two seconds more his teeth were clenched, his nostrils distended, andhis oye flashed fire.

' Then perish a pauper with your drudge of a husband!' he cried; and he lit the lower corner of the will in the candle.

Unnoticed by either of the actors in the scene, the door slightly opened; while a black figure stood in the darkness beyond. Dolly ran to seize the paper from Lowcraft, but he easily kept her at bay with his left arm while the right arm, unmoved, still held out tho burning paper at full length. ' Cease to struggle, fool,' he said, in a cold voice, as ho gra'ped her tender arm. ' This burning paper was a fortnnewhich would have blessed your ignominious nuptials, but every line, as it is extinguished by tho flame, means years of toil and sorrow.'

' Wretch!' cried the girl, ' you shall sufier for this, you shall —~' 'You will have a numerous family of cotton-clad and begrimed urchins, and your ears will be wearied alternately by their cries for bread, and by your husband's reproaches that you are only a mother, and not an heiress.'

And he laughed, in her fase as he flung away the last blackened remnant of the will.

Why did not Sintwango interfere, for it was he who stood behind the open door ? Was he faithless ? was he one who had no love for his mistress, or was he a coward ? Neither, my charitable reader. Ho was a Kaffir.

When he saw the horse in the stable he knew it. He knew it in the dark. He at once despatched a boy with a written pass already provided for him in case of need by Jack, to tell his master, that Selevn Simyama was there, and while the boy's unfettered limbs were bearing him, like a sable Mercury as he was, into the town, Sintwango went into the house in case he should be wanted. He saw the scene which was presented there. He saw the defiant Loworaft, the straggling girl, and the burulng paper. Bat no more violence was used than was needful to burn the paper. His mistress did not call him, and he did not appear. His thoughts, as he looked through the half opened door, were on this wise :—'This is a white man who has authority over the girl. Perhaps he derives it from her father, whose friend he was. Perhaps he is an officer of her tribe. Perhaps she has done wrong in receiving the addresses of the other white man, my master, in which case they will fly across a river or a mountain, and go into another land and live under another chief, and I will go with them. This man, very likely, has the right of torturing the woman, and of tying her thumbs together with thongs and screwing them till the blood burstb out, and of running wooden wedges nnder her nails till the nails come off, as is done with our women. But although he is angry, this strong white man is merciful, and he only burns a piece of paper, and the white men have really so many papers that one more or less does not matter ; besides, if the paper contains anything impirtant, a clever white man can make another in half an hour. Three things are plain —it is the right of man to control woman ; it is the duty of woman to submit; and if a Kaffir interferes with white men's laws or customs he Is sare to get the worst of it.'

Chapter IX. OVEK-TBUMPBD. As Sintwango finished this soliloquy, and Loworaft flung away the last burning fragment of the paper, and Dolly sank pale and exhausted on a chair, the footsteps of a horse approaching at a gallop fell on the keen ears of the native, though unnoticed by those within the room. It was Jack. Not till the native had taken the horse and its rider had leapt across the verandah, did either of the principal actors reckon upon the intervention of a third person. He entered the room.

' Thiß man has burnt Uncle Jerry's will,' said Dolly rising, ' There are the ashes on the hearth.'

' You have, have you V atked Jack, going up to him, 'I do not recognise your right to interfere,' said the Major. ' The will is vested in [me as your uncle's executor, and when your father dies I shall, therefore, be his executor also.'

' If you think that because you will be my father's executor, you can come into my house and destroy my wife's title-deed before her f »ce, you are mistaken,' said Jack ; 'so off with your jacket and proceed to business. You have not to deal with a woman now.'

•Oh, Jack,' said Dolly, going up to him, ' pray forbear. Do not use violence with the man. Only think of our wedding day ending in violence.'

' Never fear me, child,' said Jaok ; ' there'll be no murder, and he shall go back alive to Durban this very night. And now leave the room. No sir,' said he to Lowcraft, who had made a move towards the table, ' don't touch the candlestick ; you've done enough mischief with the candle. Take to your natural weapons. You won't 1 Then there !' And he slapped the soldier on the cheek. In an instant the man's faee reddened, and he flung his arms out striking wildly, at his adversary. Jack stood bef oro him in a scientifio and e'astic attitude, and his raised head wore that expression of mild and contented self-con-fidence which distinguishes the experts in the noble art. Blow after blow fell rapidly upon various part 3of the Major's body. At one time a thud in the chest sent him bact. ward against the wall, and anon several knuckles seemed lightly playing upon his face, and whenever his defensive exertions flagged a slap on the cheek with the open hand restored him to renewed activity. 'Go and stop it, Sintwango,' said Dolly to the savage, who stood smiling benevolently through the half-open door. 'No, missis,' sa'.d he, 'very muchli boss.'

'Don't be afraid,' said Jack. 'I won|t hurt a bone of his body nor a hair of his head.'

And he resumed a series of light taps on the already disfigured countenance of the executor. The latter at last began to show signs of utter helplessness, and not even a slap in the face could resuscitate his useleEß exertions.

'Why, you can's show fight, man ?' said Jack, piusing, but showing no symptoms of breathlessae3S or fatigue.

* You can't show fight, man,' he repeated. ' Well, then, I'm not going to use my fists upon a dummy that leans like a sack up against a wall; there's neither fun nor justice in it, and, as you can't see, I'll help you to the door.' Jaek seized him by the scruff of the neck, and kicked him out on to the verandah. ' Oh, what have you done with him Y said Dolly. «He can't move.' 'Oh, he can movo fast enough,' said Jack, •if he could only see where to go to. Here, Sintwango, get his horse and lead him quietly to town. I'll give you a pass.' A light was brought to help the man on to his horse. His features were no longer recognisable. His head was a disfigured and shapeless mass. Dolly covered her eyes with her hands to hide the sight of her enemy's shame. Jack gave him water, which he swallowed slowly and in silence.

'No, Sintwaagv?/ Baid Jack; 'not with his face to the tail, or the man will fall. Shift the tsdSdle. t won't disgrace him further ; he has had enough.

Never was a truer word said. It was not a sense of indignity that occupied the brain of %he poor wretch as he was led in perfect silence at a slow waJk along tfe* highway to Durban. Sheer physical suffering occupied all his" thoughts, or ratier forbaol his entertaining any ; and although his legs main tained e? mechanical grip of the familiar saddle, thwte were times when his saHe guide felt it necsssary to hold him in hltf place And it was'ihus supported •Siat he was led, blind, giddy,-and disfigured, jnto the yszd of the Royal Hc*ei.

Sintwangu returned, aud reported the ptr"formance of Ms duty; and' thus ended Dolly's wedding - day.

;' Cbapteb X. TWO 3AKLY BIRDS. I Next morning Jack Smith rose' betimes, and proceeded to coTer three sides ctf'a sheet of foolscap with neat and orderly writing, and every now and then he paused'in the task and interrogated-his bride through the open door concerning the due sequencaofthe events of the previous evening. When he .had finished ■writing he called her in to listen to what he had written, aud Dolly and her ,husband would have made a good picture-as she stood in her uncompleted toilette, showing her splendid white shoulders and her rounded and dimpled arms, with her long hair hanging-down her back; listening to one of the handsomest fellows in the world reading a neatly detailed story of the burning of the will. ' 13 that right ?' asked ho. 'But you have said nothing about what took place after you came in, and I showed you the ashes of the will, nothing about what you did to the man.' ' No ; you see that it is for him to complain of if he is fool enough to do so. The burning of the will is all that we complain of. Sign there, that's right ; we'll swear it afterwards.' And Jack folded methodically the neatly written deposition along with another which he mcacit io' swear himself, and endorsed them as carefully as if they had been done for a client; after which they had breakfast, and Sintwango put a woman's saddle on the horse, and master and man walked with Dolly into town. {To he continued.)