benita-第2章

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moustache；　for　he　wore　no　beard。　His　face　was　clean　cut；　not

particularly　handsome；　since；　their　fineness　notwithstanding；　his

features　lacked　regularity；　the　cheekbones　were　too　high　and　the　chin

was　too　small；　small　faults　redeemed　to　some　extent　by　the　steady　and

cheerful　grey　eyes。　For　the　rest；　he　was　broad…shouldered　and　well…

set…up；　sealed　with　the　indescribable　stamp　of　the　English　gentleman。

Such　was　the　appearance　of　Robert　Seymour。



In　that　light　the　girl　at　his　side　looked　lovely；　though；　in　fact；　she

had　no　real　claims　to　loveliness；　except　perhaps　as　regards　her

figure；　which　was　agile；　rounded；　and　peculiarly　graceful。　Her

foreign…looking　face　was　unusual；　dark…eyed；　a　somewhat　large　and　very

mobile　mouth；　fair　and　waving　hair；　a　broad　forehead；　a　sweet　and　at

times　wistful　face；　thoughtful　for　the　most　part；　but　apt　to　be

irradiated　by　sudden　smiles。　Not　a　beautiful　woman　at　all；　but

exceedingly　attractive；　one　possessing　magnetism。



She　gazed；　first　at　the　moon　and　the　silver　road　beneath　it；　then；

turning；　at　the　land　beyond。



〃We　are　very　near　to　Africa；　at　last；〃　she　said。



〃Too　near；　I　think；〃　he　answered。　〃If　I　were　the　captain　I　should

stand　out　a　point　or　two。　It　is　a　strange　country；　full　of　surprises。

Miss　Clifford；　will　you　think　me　rude　if　I　ask　you　why　you　are　going

there？　You　have　never　told　mequite。〃



〃No；　because　the　story　is　rather　a　sad　one；　but　you　shall　hear　it　if

you　wish。　Do　you？〃



He　nodded；　and　drew　up　two　deck　chairs；　in　which　they　settled

themselves　in　a　corner　made　by　one　of　the　inboard　boats；　their　faces

still　towards　the　sea。



〃You　know　I　was　born　in　Africa；〃　she　said；　〃and　lived　there　till　I　was

thirteen　years　oldwhy；　I　find　I　can　still　speak　Zulu；　I　did　so　this

afternoon。　My　father　was　one　of　the　early　settlers　in　Natal。　His

father　was　a　clergyman；　a　younger　son　of　the　Lincolnshire　Cliffords。

They　are　great　people　there　still；　though　I　don't　suppose　that　they

are　aware　of　my　existence。〃



〃I　know　them；〃　answered　Robert　Seymour。　〃Indeed；　I　was　shooting　at

their　place　last　Novemberwhen　the　smash　came；〃　and　he　sighed；　〃but

go　on。〃



〃Well；　my　father　quarrelled　with　his　father；　I　don't　know　what　about；

and　emigrated。　In　Natal　he　married　my　mother；　a　Miss　Ferreira；　whose

namelike　mine　and　her　mother'swas　Benita。　She　was　one　of　two

sisters；　and　her　father；　Andreas　Ferreira；　who　married　an　English

lady；　was　half　Dutch　and　half　Portuguese。　I　remember　him　well；　a　fine

old　man　with　dark　eyes　and　an　iron…grey　beard。　He　was　wealthy　as

things　went　in　those　daysthat　is　to　say；　he　had　lots　of　land　in

Natal　and　the　Transvaal；　and　great　herds　of　stock。　So　you　see　I　am

half　English；　some　Dutch；　and　more　than　a　quarter　Portuguesequite　a

mixture　of　races。　My　father　and　mother　did　not　get　on　well　together。

Mr。　Seymour；　I　may　as　well　tell　you　all　the　truth：　he　drank；　and

although　he　was　passionately　fond　of　her；　she　was　jealous　of　him。　Also

he　gambled　away　most　of　her　patrimony；　and　after　old　Andreas

Ferreira's　death　they　grew　poor。　One　night　there　was　a　dreadful　scene

between　them；　and　in　his　madness　he　struck　her。



〃Well；　she　was　a　very　proud　woman；　determined；　too；　and　she　turned　on

him　and　saidfor　I　heard　her'I　will　never　forgive　you；　we　have　done

with　each　other。'　Next　morning；　when　my　father　was　sober；　he　begged

her　pardon；　but　she　made　no　answer；　although　he　was　starting　somewhere

on　a　fortnight's　trek。　When　he　had　gone　my　mother　ordered　the　Cape

cart；　packed　up　her　clothes；　took　some　money　that　she　had　put　away；

drove　to　Durban；　and　after　making　arrangements　at　the　bank　about　a

small　private　income　of　her　own；　sailed　with　me　for　England；　leaving　a

letter　for　my　father　in　which　she　said　that　she　would　never　see　him

again；　and　if　he　tried　to　interfere　with　me　she　would　put　me　under　the

protection　of　the　English　court；　which　would　not　allow　me　to　be　taken

to　the　home　of　a　drunkard。



〃In　England　we　went　to　live　in　London　with　my　aunt；　who　had　married　a

Major　King；　but　was　a　widow　with　five　children。　My　father　often　wrote

to　persuade　my　mother　to　go　back　to　him；　but　she　never　would；　which　I

think　was　wrong　of　her。　So　things　went　on　for　twelve　years　or　more；

till　one　day　my　mother　suddenly　died；　and　I　came　into　her　little

fortune　of　between　￡200　and　￡300　a　year；　which　she　had　tied　up　so　that

nobody　can　touch　it。　That　was　about　a　year　ago。　I　wrote　to　tell　my

father　of　her　death；　and　received　a　pitiful　letter；　indeed；　I　have　had

several　of　them。　He　implored　me　to　come　out　to　him　and　not　to　leave

him　to　die　in　his　loneliness；　as　he　soon　would　do　of　a　broken　heart；

if　I　did　not。　He　said　that　he　had　long　ago　given　up　drinking；　which

was　the　cause　of　the　ruin　of　his　life；　and　sent　a　certificate　signed

by　a　magistrate　and　a　doctor　to　that　effect。　Well；　in　the　end；

although　all　my　cousins　and　their　mother　advised　me　against　it；　I

consented；　and　here　I　am。　He　is　to　meet　me　at　Durban；　but　how　we　shall

get　on　together　is　more　than　I　can　say；　though　I　long　to　see　him；　for

after　all　he　is　my　father。〃



〃It　was　good　of　you　to　come；　under　all　the　circumstances。　You　must

have　a　brave　heart；〃　said　Robert　reflectively。



〃It　is　my　duty；〃　she　answered。　〃And　for　the　rest；　I　am　not　afraid　who

was　born　to　Africa。　Indeed；　often　and　often　have　I　wished　to　be　back

there　again；　out　on　the　veld；　far　away　from　the　London　streets　and

fog。　I　am　young　and　strong；　and　I　want　to　see　things；　natural　things

not　those　made　by　man；　you　knowthe　things　I　remember　as　a　child。　One

can　always　go　back　to　London。〃



〃Yes；　or　at　least　some　people　can。　It　is　a　curious　thing；　Miss

Clifford；　but　as　it　happens　I　have　met　your　father。　You　always

reminded　me　of　the　man；　but　I　had　forgotten　his　name。　Now　it　comes

back　to　me；　it　/was/　Clifford。〃



〃Where　on　earth？〃　she　asked；　astonished。



〃In　a　queer　place。　As　I　told　you；　I　have　visited　South　Africa　before；

under　different　circumstances。　Four　years　ago　I　was　out　here　big…game

shooting。　Going　in　from　the　East　coast　my　brother　and　Ihe　is　dead

now；　poor　fellowgot　up　somewhere　in　the　Matabele　country；　on　the

banks　of　the　Zambesi。　As　we　didn't　find　much　game　there　we　were　going

to　strike　south；　when　some　natives　told　us　of　a　wonderful　ruin　that

stood　on　a　hill　overhanging　the　river　a　few　miles　farther　on。　So；

leaving　the　waggon　on　the　hither　side　of　the　steep　nek；　over　which　it

would　have　been　difficult　to　drag　it；　my　brother　and　I　took　our　rifles

and　a　bag　of　food　and　started。　The　place　was　farther　off　than　we

thought；　although　from　the　top　of　the　nek　we　could　see　it　clearly

enough；　and　before　we　reached　it　dark　had　fallen。



〃Now　we　had　observed　a　waggon　and　a　tent　outside　the　wall　which　we

thought　must　belong　to　white　men；　and　headed　for　them。　There　was　a

light　in　the　tent；　and　the　flap　was　open；　the　night　being　very　hot。

Inside　two　men　were　seated；　one　old；　with　a　grey　beard；　and　the　other；

a　good…looking　fellowunder　forty；　I　should　saywith　a　Jewish　face；

dark；　piercing　eyes；　and　a　black；　pointed　beard。　They　were　engaged　in

examining　a　heap　of　gold　beads　and　bangles；　which　lay　on　the　table

between　them。　As　I　was　about　to　speak；　the　black…bearded　man　heard　or

caught　sight　of　us；　and　seizing　a　rifle　that　leaned　against　the　table；

swung　round　and　covered　me。



〃'For　God's　sake　don't　shoot；　Jacob；'　said　the　old　man；　'they　are

English。'



〃'Best　dead；　any　way；'　answered　the　other；　in　a　soft　voice；　with　a

slight　foreign　accent；　'we　don't　want　spies　or　thieves　here。'



〃'We　are　neither；　but　I　can　shoot　as　well　as　you；　friend；'　I　remarked；

for　by　this　time　my　rifle　was　on　him。



〃Then　he　thought　better　of　it；　and　dropped　his　gun；　and　we　explained

that　we　were　merely　on　an　arch？ological　expedition。　The　end　of　it　was

that　we　became　capital　friends；　though　neither　of　us　could　cotton　much

to　Mr。　JacobI　forget　his　other　name。　He　struck　me　as　too　handy　with

his　rifle；　and　was；　I　gathered；　an　individua