第 十三 章 · OOLANGA'S HALLUCINATIONS

. OOLANGA'S HALLUCINATIONS

During the last few days Lady Arabella had been getting exceedingly

impatient. Her debts, always pressing, were growing to an embarrassing

amount. The only hope she had of comfort in life was a good marriage;

but the good marriage on which she had fixed her eye did not seem to move

quickly enough--indeed, it did not seem to move at all--in the right

direction. Edgar Caswall was not an ardent wooer. From the very first

he seemed _difficile_, but he had been keeping to his own room ever since

his struggle with Mimi Watford. On that occasion Lady Arabella had shown

him in an unmistakable way what her feelings were; indeed, she had made

it known to him, in a more overt way than pride should allow, that she

wished to help and support him. The moment when she had gone across the

room to stand beside him in his mesmeric struggle, had been the very

limit of her voluntary action. It was quite bitter enough, she felt,

that he did not come to her, but now that she had made that advance, she

felt that any withdrawal on his part would, to a woman of her class, be

nothing less than a flaming insult. Had she not classed herself with his

nigger servant, an unreformed savage? Had she not shown her preference

for him at the festival of his home-coming? Had she not . . . Lady

Arabella was cold-blooded, and she was prepared to go through all that

might be necessary of indifference, and even insult, to become chatelaine

of Castra Regis. In the meantime, she would show no hurry--she must

wait. She might, in an unostentatious way, come to him again. She knew

him now, and could make a keen guess at his desires with regard to Lilla

Watford. With that secret in her possession, she could bring pressure to

bear on Caswall which would make it no easy matter for him to evade her.

The great difficulty was how to get near him. He was shut up within his

Castle, and guarded by a defence of convention which she could not pass

without danger of ill repute to herself. Over this question she thought

and thought for days and nights. At last she decided that the only way

would be to go to him openly at Castra Regis. Her rank and position

would make such a thing possible, if carefully done. She could explain

matters afterwards if necessary. Then when they were alone, she would

use her arts and her experience to make him commit himself. After all,

he was only a man, with a man's dislike of difficult or awkward

situations. She felt quite sufficient confidence in her own womanhood to

carry her through any difficulty which might arise.

From Diana's Grove she heard each day the luncheon-gong from Castra Regis

sound, and knew the hour when the servants would be in the back of the

house. She would enter the house at that hour, and, pretending that she

could not make anyone hear her, would seek him in his own rooms. The

tower was, she knew, away from all the usual sounds of the house, and

moreover she knew that the servants had strict orders not to interrupt

him when he was in the turret chamber. She had found out, partly by the

aid of an opera-glass and partly by judicious questioning, that several

times lately a heavy chest had been carried to and from his room, and

that it rested in the room each night. She was, therefore, confident

that he had some important work on hand which would keep him busy for

long spells.

Meanwhile, another member of the household at Castra Regis had schemes

which he thought were working to fruition. A man in the position of a

servant has plenty of opportunity of watching his betters and forming

opinions regarding them. Oolanga was in his way a clever, unscrupulous

rogue, and he felt that with things moving round him in this great

household there should be opportunities of self-advancement. Being

unscrupulous and stealthy--and a savage--he looked to dishonest means. He

saw plainly enough that Lady Arabella was making a dead set at his

master, and he was watchful of the slightest sign of anything which might

enhance this knowledge. Like the other men in the house, he knew of the

carrying to and fro of the great chest, and had got it into his head that

the care exercised in its porterage indicated that it was full of

treasure. He was for ever lurking around the turret-rooms on the chance

of making some useful discovery. But he was as cautious as he was

stealthy, and took care that no one else watched him.

It was thus that the negro became aware of Lady Arabella's venture into

the house, as she thought, unseen. He took more care than ever, since he

was watching another, that the positions were not reversed. More than

ever he kept his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut. Seeing Lady

Arabella gliding up the stairs towards his master's room, he took it for

granted that she was there for no good, and doubled his watching

intentness and caution.

Oolanga was disappointed, but he dared not exhibit any feeling lest it

should betray that he was hiding. Therefore he slunk downstairs again

noiselessly, and waited for a more favourable opportunity of furthering

his plans. It must be borne in mind that he thought that the heavy trunk

was full of valuables, and that he believed that Lady Arabella had come

to try to steal it. His purpose of using for his own advantage the

combination of these two ideas was seen later in the day. Oolanga

secretly followed her home. He was an expert at this game, and succeeded

admirably on this occasion. He watched her enter the private gate of

Diana's Grove, and then, taking a roundabout course and keeping out of

her sight, he at last overtook her in a thick part of the Grove where no

one could see the meeting.

Lady Arabella was much surprised. She had not seen the negro for several

days, and had almost forgotten his existence. Oolanga would have been

startled had he known and been capable of understanding the real value

placed on him, his beauty, his worthiness, by other persons, and compared

it with the value in these matters in which he held himself. Doubtless

Oolanga had his dreams like other men. In such cases he saw himself as a

young sun-god, as beautiful as the eye of dusky or even white womanhood

had ever dwelt upon. He would have been filled with all noble and

captivating qualities--or those regarded as such in West Africa. Women

would have loved him, and would have told him so in the overt and fervid

manner usual in affairs of the heart in the shadowy depths of the forest

of the Gold Coast.

Oolanga came close behind Lady Arabella, and in a hushed voice, suitable

to the importance of his task, and in deference to the respect he had for

her and the place, began to unfold the story of his love. Lady Arabella

was not usually a humorous person, but no man or woman of the white race

could have checked the laughter which rose spontaneously to her lips. The

circumstances were too grotesque, the contrast too violent, for subdued

mirth. The man a debased specimen of one of the most primitive races of

the earth, and of an ugliness which was simply devilish; the woman of

high degree, beautiful, accomplished. She thought that her first

moment's consideration of the outrage--it was nothing less in her

eyes--had given her the full material for thought. But every instant

after threw new and varied lights on the affront. Her indignation was

too great for passion; only irony or satire would meet the situation. Her

cold, cruel nature helped, and she did not shrink to subject this

ignorant savage to the merciless fire-lash of her scorn.

Oolanga was dimly conscious that he was being flouted; but his anger was

no less keen because of the measure of his ignorance. So he gave way to

it, as does a tortured beast. He ground his great teeth together, raved,

stamped, and swore in barbarous tongues and with barbarous imagery. Even

Lady Arabella felt that it was well she was within reach of help, or he

might have offered her brutal violence--even have killed her.

"Am I to understand," she said with cold disdain, so much more effective

to wound than hot passion, "that you are offering me your love?

Your--love?"

For reply he nodded his head. The scorn of her voice, in a sort of

baleful hiss, sounded--and felt--like the lash of a whip.

"And you dared! you--a savage--a slave--the basest thing in the world of

vermin! Take care! I don't value your worthless life more than I do

that of a rat or a spider. Don't let me ever see your hideous face here

again, or I shall rid the earth of you."

As she was speaking, she had taken out her revolver and was pointing it

at him. In the immediate presence of death his impudence forsook him,

and he made a weak effort to justify himself. His speech was short,

consisting of single words. To Lady Arabella it sounded mere gibberish,

but it was in his own dialect, and meant love, marriage, wife. From the

intonation of the words, she guessed, with her woman's quick intuition,

at their meaning; but she quite failed to follow, when, becoming more

pressing, he continued to urge his suit in a mixture of the grossest

animal passion and ridiculous threats. He warned her that he knew she

had tried to steal his master's treasure, and that he had caught her in

the act. But if she would be his, he would share the treasure with her,

and they could live in luxury in the African forests. But if she

refused, he would tell his master, who would flog and torture her and

then give her to the police, who would kill her.