 Chapter 29 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Braddon. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Kigambo, footnote. Unexpected calamity, slavery, or death. End of footnote. The rainy season was over. The moving wall of water was down. The travelers were no longer kept awake at night by the ceaseless roar of the rain. The lake lay stretched before them, sapphire dark under the milky blueness of the tropical sky. Kingfisher and fish eagle and all the birds that haunt those waters, hovered or perched on the trees or along the bank, or skimmed the shining surface of the great freshwater sea. And now the canoes were manned, and the three white men and their followers were setting their faces towards Manema, the cannibal country dreaded by Wangana and Wani Amaziz, and even by the bolder Mokalolos. For this stage of their journey, they were traveling in a stronger company, having accepted the fellowship of an Arab caravan faring towards the Congo. And this larger troop gave an air of new gaiety to their train. They had been forced to buy new stores of cloth and beads at Uggie, Jeffrey's recklessness in rewarding his men after every successful hunting expedition, having considerably reduced their stock. The cloth bought at Uggie was dear and bad, and Cecil Paytrington took Jeffrey to task with some severity. But his reproaches fell lightly upon that volatile nature. Remember that the measure of the goods we carry is the measure of our lives, said the experienced traveler gravely. Oh, Providence will take care of us when our goods are gone, argued Jeffrey. We shall fall in with some civilized Arabs who know the value of hard cash. I cannot believe in a country where a checkbook is useless. We shall be within touch of the mercantile world when we get to Stanley Pool. When, echoed Paytrington, hill and jungle and desert and river, mutiny or desertion, pestilence and tempest have to be accounted with before you see steamers and civilization. There is no use in glib talk of what can be done at Brazzaville or at Stanley Pool. Luckily, we are going into a region where food is cheap, such as it is, but then on the other hand we may run out of quinine and quinine sometimes means life. Summer was in the land when they crossed the Great Lake, stopping for a night or two on one of the principal islands under the hospitable roof of a missionary station, where it was a new sensation to sit upon a chair and taste a cup of coffee made in the European manner and to see an English woman's pleasant face and neat raiment. There was an English child also, a real human child, as Geoffrey exclaimed, delighted at the phenomenon. Around limbed that cheeked rosy baby, who sat and watched the landing of the party from her perambulator and patronized them with chubby hands waving a welcome, as they scrambled out of the canoes, a child who had entered upon a world of black faces and may have fancied her mother and father monstrosities in a place where everybody else was black. What a contrast was this fair blue-eyed two-year-old to such infancy as they had seen in the villages along their road, the brown naked creatures rolling and groveling in the dirt and looking more like pug dogs than children. When they had been goodbye to the friendly missionary and his domestic circle, not without childish life upon their way for the Arabs with whom they had joined company had some women in their trains, one a slave with a couple of children, and as the Arab law does not recognize slavery under adult age, these brats of six and seven were free and not being goods and chattels, no provision was allowed for them and the mother had to feed them out of her own scanty rations. Geoffrey was on more familiar terms with the Arabs than either Patrington or Allen, and on discovering the state of things with the native mother and her sons, he took these two morsels of dusky humanity into his service and set them to clean pots and pans and treated them as a kind of lap dogs and let them dance to his wild fiddle music in the firelight in front of the tents and would not allow them to be punished for their depredations among the panikins of rice or the baskets of bananas. They crossed the swift and turbid Luama river in camp for a night upon its shores and then came the harassing march in single file through the dense jungle, a hopeless monotony of rank, foliage taller than the tallest of the travelers, a coarse and monstrous vegetation which lashed their faces and rent their clothing and caught their feet like wire snares set for poachers. Vane was to put the porters with their loads in the forefront of their procession, the rank in exrable jungle closed behind them as they passed and the four hours march through this pitiless scrub was worse than a ten-hour's tramp in the open. The days were sultry, the travelers deemed themselves lucky if the evening closed without a thunderstorm and the storms in those regions were deadly, a fired roof and a blackened corpse in a hut next that occupied by the three friends testified to the awfulness of an African thunderstorm. The thatch blazed the neighbors looked on and the husband of the victim sat beside the disfigured form in a curious indifference which might mean either the wilderness or want of feeling. Twenty years ago the catastrophe next door would have been assuredly put down to our account said Patrington as they sat at supper after the storm and we should have had to pay for that poor lady with our persons or our goods. Our goods for choice, so much marikani or so many strings of sami-sami, but since the advent of the Arabs reason has begun to prevail over unreason, the influence of Islam makes for civilization. They found the people of Manema, the reputed man-eaters, friendly and willing to deal. Provisions were cheap, vows, eggs, maize and sweet potatoes were to be had in abundance. The natives were civil, but curious and intrusive and the sound of Jeffrey Zamadi was the signal for a crowd around the camping place, a crowd that could only be dispersed by the sight of a revolver, the nature of which weapon seemed very clearly understood by these warriors of the lance and the knife. When the admiring throng waxed intrusive in the black faces and filthy figures crowded the veranda, Cecil Patrington took out his pistols and gave them a little lecture in their native tongue with the promise of an illustration or two if they should refuse to depart. Or were Jeffrey in the humor he would push his way playing through that savage throng unlike the pied piper of Hamelin, would lead those human rats away towards hill or stream, jungle or plain, plain, plain, some diabolical strain of tartinies or some still-wilder war song of the new Sklovonic school, Stojowsky, Mazkowsky, Wienan-Walsky, something thrilling, plaintive, frightening, appealing, which set those savage breasts on fire and turned those savage heads like strong drink. One shall be taken and the other left that text would flash across Jeffrey Warnock's thoughts at the unlikeliest moments that might have been a fiery scroll projected on the dark cloud line of the thunderous even tide. It might have been the sharp shrill cry of some bird crossing the blue above his head, so unexpectedly, so strangely, did the words recurred to him. So far in all the vicissitudes of the journey, the little band had held firmly on with less than the average amount of suffering and inconvenience. There had been desertion, there had been death among their men, but on the un-yam-wisi route, it had been easy to repair all such losses. And their wan-yam-wises were, in most respects, the superiors of the Wangana. They had lost by the way. So far, despite of some bad-ish bouts of fever, the dark inexorable shadow had held aloof. The dread of death had not been beside their campfires or about their bed, but now in this region of tropical fertility amidst a paradise of luxuriant verger, sheltered by the vast mountain citadel that rises like a titanic wall above the western border of the Tanganyika, they came upon a spot where the fever-fiend, the impalpable, invisible, inexorable enemy, reigned supreme. Jeffrey was the first to feel the poisonous influence of the atmosphere. He laid down his fiddle and flung himself upon his bed with aching back and weary limbs one evening after a day of casual roaming along the banks of a tributary stream. I'd been walking about too long, he said. That's all that there is, the matter with me. That's all, but when daylight came he was in the unknown fever country, the dreadful, topsy-turvy world of delirium. He had two heads and he wanted to shoot one of them. He tried to stand up and go across the hut to fetch the rifle that hung against the opposite wall but his limbs refused to obey him. He lay groaning, helpless as an infant, muttering that the other head wouldn't let him sleep. The pain was all in that other head in the long agony that followed. All things were blank and dark until, after five days of raging fever, the pulse grew regular again. The scorching body cooled down to the temperature of healthy life and weak and waned but rejoicing in freedom from pain. The patient came back to everyday life and looked into the faces of his companions with eyes that saw the things that were and not the spectral forms that people delirious dreams. One shall be taken, he muttered himself as he looked from Ellen to Cecil and back again. I thought it was I. Then we are all three of us alive, he said, with a catch in his voice that was almost a sod. Very much alive and we hope to remain so answered Patrington, cheeriest of travelers. You've had a bad spell of the cursed Mu-ku-Rangu, which I suppose must have it's fling for the next day, caddy or two until railroads and hotels and scientific drainage and Swiss inn keepers have altered the climate for the better. You've been pretty bad and you've kept us in a very unhealthy district, so as soon as ever you've picked up your strength will move on. I can start tomorrow morning. I feel as strong as a lion. Does a lion's paw shake as your hand is shaking now? My dear Jeff, you are as weak as water. We'll give you three days to recruit. I do harden to a subject for the Mu-ku-Rangu, which is a fever of acclimatization for the most part. And I've been dosing Alan with quinine and I've been doing a good deal of ambulance surgery among the natives and we're a very popular party. They have seldom seen three white men in a bunch. You're fiddling my medicine chest and sticking plaster and Alan's good manners have made a great effect. The Blackies are assured that we are all three sultans in our own country and our Arab friends. Oh, they have gone on. We've only our own men with us now. Your Makololos have been miserable about you. They spent a jovial night Jeffrey's spirits rising to wild deity with that lightness which comes when a fever patient has struggled through the thick cloud of strange fancies the agony of throbbing brain and aching back. He tuned the fiddle that had been lying mute in its velvet nest. He tucked it lovingly under his chin and laid his bow along the strings like fingers that trembled a little in the rapture of that familiar touch. Shall I bore you very much if I play? He asked, looking at his elder companion, bore us, not a jot. I have sadly missed your wild strains. There has been a voice wanting a voice that is almost human in which seems so much a part of you that while that was dumb you seem to be dead. Begin your spells. Play us something about one of your owskies. Jamowsky. Jeffrey drew his bow across the strings with a swelling cord, a burst of bass music like the sudden peeling of an organ and began a valachian dirge. Does that give you the scene? He asked, pausing and looking round at them after a tremendous presto movement. Does it conjure up the precipitous mountain road, the funeral train, the wild wailing of the mourners, the groaning men, the shrieking women, even the whining and whimpering of the little children, the stormy sky, the thick darkness, the flare of the torches, the tramping of the iron-shot huffs. I can hear and see it all as I play. And then he began the slow movement, the awful ghostly adagio with his suggestion of all things horrible, its eccentric phrasing and dissonant chords shaping a vision of strange unearthly forms. It's a very jolly kind of music, Cecil Patrington said thoughtfully. I mean jolly difficult, don't you know, but if you want my candid opinion as to what it suggests, I'm free because it sounds to me like your improvised notion of the mucurungu, all fever and pain and confusion. The mucurungu not half a bad name for a descriptive sonata left Jeffrey putting his fiddle to bed. And then they brought out the cards and played poker for Calry's Cecil Patrington as usual the winner by reason of that inscrutable countenance of his which had hardened itself in all the hazards of an adventurous career. They were particularly soerville that evening and flung care to the winds that sobbed and muttered along the shore. Jeffrey's guillotine communicated itself to the other two. They drank their moderate potations. They smoked their pipes and Patrington discoursed of an ideal settlement where the surplus population of Whitechapel and Burr Monzy were to come and work in a new Arcadia, a place of flocks and herds and coffee fields under a smokeless heaven. For my own satisfaction I would have Africa untrodden and unknown, a world of wonder and mystery he said, but the beginning has been made in the coming century. We'll see every missionary settlement of today develop into a populist center of enterprise and labor. Crowded out England will come here and thrive here as it has driven in less fertile lands. Englishmen will flock here for sport and pleasure and profit. And these native sultans, these little kings and their peoples, that is the problem. God grant me a bloodless solution. That was the last night these three travelers ever sat together over their cards and pipes, ever laughed and talked together with hearts at ease. They were to resume their journey next morning. But when all was ready for the start, Alan discovered that Cecil, Patrington was too ill to walk. I've had a bad night. He confessed the kind of night that lets one know one has a head belonging to one. But the men can carry me in a litter. I shall be all right tomorrow. I'd much rather be jogged along. This is a vile, feverish hole. There was no question of jogging along for this hearty traveler. The oppressive drowsiness, which is sometimes the first stage of malarial fever, held him like a spell. He looked at his companions dimly with eyes that sparkled and yet were cloudy with involuntary tears. He could hardly see their anxious faces. I'm afraid I'm in for what he faltered. I thought I was fever-proof. He sank upon the narrow camp bed in a shivering fit. And Geoffrey and Alan spread their blankets over him. They heaped every bit of woolen covering they possessed over those shaking limbs but could not quiet the ague fit or bring warmth to the ice-cold form. Dreary days, dreadful nights, followed the sad waking of that sultry morning. The two young men nursed their guide and captain with unceasing watchfulness and devotion. Geoffrey developed a feminine tenderness and carefulness which was touching in so wild and unfitful a nature. But they could do so little, and he whom they watched and cared for knew not or only knew in rare brief intervals of their loving care. They tried to sustain each other's courage. They told each other that malarial fever was only a phase of African travel, an unpleasant phase but not to be avoided. They knew all about the fever from bitter experience. And here was Geoffrey but just recovered and doubtless patron-tent would mend in a day I don't suppose he's any worse than I was, said Geoffrey. Alan shook his head sadly. I don't know that he's worse, but the symptoms seem different somehow. He doesn't answer to the medicines as you did. The symptoms developed unmistakably after this, and the fever showed itself as typhus in the most deadly form. Swift on this revelation came the end, and in the solemn stillness of the forest midnight they knelt beside the unconscious form and watched quivering lips from which the breath was faintly ebbing. One last sobbing sigh and between them and the captain of their little company there stretched a distance wider than the breath of Africa, further than from the Zambezi to the Congo. A land more mysterious than the dark continent parted them from him who was last week their jovial hearty comrade sharing the fortunes of the day thinking of death as a shadowy something waiting for him far off at the end of innumerable journeys and years of adventurous activity a quiet haven into which his bark would drift when the timbers were worn thin with long usage and the arms of that rower were weary of plying the oar. And death was close beside them all the time lying in wait for that gallant spirit like a beast of prey. O God, is there another Africa where we shall meet that brave good man again? cried Allen, which of our modern teachers is right. Lydden who tells us that Christ rose from the dead or Clever who tells us there is nothing nothing, no great companion no master or guide only ourselves and our faithful service for one another only this poor humanity he looked up appealingly expecting to see Jeffrey's face on the other side of the bed but he was alone Jeffrey had fled from the presence of death he had rushed out into the wilderness it was late in the following afternoon when he came back the men had dug a grave under great sycamore and Allen was about to read the funeral service when Jeffrey reappeared white haggard with wild eyes and clothes stained with mire and sedged the red clay of the forest paths the green slime of swamp and bog Allen could only look at him in pitying wonder where in heaven's name have you been he asked looking up from the rough basket work coffin bamboo and bulgar interwoven by native hands I don't know out yonder between the plain and the river to fly from the face of death I a soldier with a short ironical laugh I don't know how it was with me last night I couldn't bear it I had been thinking of that verse in the gospel one shall be taken but I didn't think it would be that one the hearty experienced traveler that might have been you or I not he Allen it was a blow wasn't it a blow that might shake a strong man's nerves Allen stretched out his hand to his comrade in silence and they clasped hands heartily on Allen's part and his grip was so earnest that he did not know it clasped a nervous hand it was a crushing blow he said gravely I don't blame you for being scared you've come back in time to see him late in his grave and to say a prayer with me Jeffery shrugged his shoulders with a hopeless look where do our prayers go I wonder we know no more than the natives when they sacrifice to their gods isn't it rather feeble to go on praying when there never comes any answer I saw you praying last night wrestling with God in prayer as pie as people call it I saw your forehead damp with agony your lips writhing every vein in your clasp hand standing out like whip cord I watched you and was sorry and would have given ten years of my life to save his but I couldn't pray with you and you see there came no answer inexorable nature worked out her own problem in her own way your prayers my silence one was as much use as the other nobody heeded us nobody cared for us the stroke fell we know not we know not there is compensation perhaps we shall see and know our friends in heaven and look back and know that we were children groping in the dark try to believe Jeffery believe is best believe the universal anodyne the Christians patent painkiller yes believe is best but you see some people can't believe I can't and I see only the hideous side of death the dull horror of annihilation a week ago we had a man with us the man list of men all nerve and fire and brain power brave as a lion ready to do and endure and now we have only that with a look of heart sickness which we are impatient to put out of sight forever put it in the ground Alan fill in the grave trample it down let us forget that there was ever such a man he flung himself upon the ground and sobbed out his grief there had been something in the blunt dogged straightforwardness of Cecil patrons character which had attached this wayward nature to him with hooks of steel I loved him he muttered getting up calm and grave even to sullenness and now you and I are alone he stood beside the grave where native hands had gently lowered the rough coffin and where Alan has scattered flowers and herbs whose aromatic odors would be on the still saltiness of the atmosphere he looked at Alan and not with looks of love only we too he muttered and these black beasts of burden end of chapter 29 chapter 30 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Briden this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Mamboo, Kua, Mangu, footnote it is God's trouble in the footnote one had been taken that which seemed to Jeffrey Warnock inevitable in the history of African travel had been accomplished the dark continent had claimed its tribute of human life Africa had chosen her victim not the expected sacrifice she had chosen her prey in him who had dared the worst she could do not in one pilgrimage but in long years of travel who had looked her full in the face and laughed at her dangers and had wooed her with a masterful spirit telling her that she was fair stepping with light careless foot over her traps and pitfalls lying down within sound of her lines drenched with her torrential rains tossed on her chopping seas blinded with the fierce glare of her lightnings always her lover, her master her champion there is no land like Africa there is nothing in life so good as the wild free day of the wanderer he had said again and again and now he had paid for his love with his light he had laid himself down like Mark Antony at the foot of his dead mistress he was gone and the two young men were alone in the wide wilderness among the mountain paths between the great lake and the far off western sea and in long pauses of melancholy silence by the campfire or in the sunlit veranda Jeffrey looked into the face that was like and yet not like his own and thought of the woman they both loved and of that duel to the death there must needs be when two men have built all their hopes of happiness upon the love of one woman a duel of deadly fought if not of deadly weapons if we go back it will be to fight for her love he thought to fight as the wild stags in the mountains fight for the chosen hind forehead to forehead four feet planted like iron antlers locked down that is her to fall off yes we shall fight for her the battle will have to begin again we shall hate each other wakeful and unquiet in the deep dead silence of the tropical night he would sit outside hut or tent mending the fire looking listlessly at the ring of sleeping porters listening mechanically for the quack quack of the night herring or the grunt of the hippopotamus coming up from the river the loss of patrington's cheery companionship had rather dark change in jeffrey's mind and feelings while patrington was with them there had been ever recurring distractions from dark brooding on the inner self patrington was eminently a man of action practical matter of fact and lovesick dreaming was hardly possible in his company he was as energetic in conversation as in action would argue and philosophize and quote his master of fiction and dose them with pickwick and weller as he dosed them with quinine he was gone and in the deep melancholy that had fallen upon the travelers after the sudden shock of bereavement jeffrey's thoughts dwelt with a maddening iteration upon one absorbing theme they had left the poor village of beehive huts near which their comrade lay at rest under the great sycamore they had traveled slowly ten miles in a day at most uphill and downhill by jungle and swamp to depress for any strenuous effort jeffrey's still weak after his attack of fever and harassed with rheumatic aches after his night of reckless wandering in marsh and wilderness in peril of being devoured by panthers that abound in that region they were not more than fifty miles from the great lake and now they were delayed again by the illness of some of their porters and perhaps also by their own listlessness the hopeless inertia that follows a great sorrow a state of mind in which it seems not worthwhile to make any effort they had lost their captain and guide but they had their plans all laid down plans discussed again and again during the rains at ugigi after a good deal of talk about going south to niasa and back to the east coast by the zambizi char route they had finally decided on following trivia's route to stanley pool and there to wait for the steamer the idea of crossing the great continent from east to west the younger travelers better than that notion of doubling back to the more civilized region the arcadia of niasa land a place of christian missions and flocks and herds and prosperous homesteads and frequent steamers but now life in the desert had lost its saver and allen and jeffrey looked over their rough sketch maps deli and wished that the journey were done wouldn't it be better to turn back to the easiest route by niasa and the shire allen asked despondently no no we must see the conga what should we do if we went back to england have either u or i anything that calls us back to civilization and its deadly monotony jeffrey asked watching his companions face with eager eyes no there is very little my mother would be glad to see me back again it seems hard to desert her now she is left alone and mrs warknock her life is just a solitary she must long for your return oh she is accustomed to my rambling propensities yes lady emily would be glad no doubt and my mother would be glad but at our age men don't go back to their mothers if you have no one else to think about if there is no other attraction you know there is no one else allen answered with a sigh the amadi was not silent in those dreary evenings amidst the smoke of the fire that rose up towards the rough roof of the hut where the lizards disported themselves among the rafters and rejoiced in the warm the voice of the fiddle was as lugubrious as the wailings of the native women for their dead funeral marches, Beethoven, Chopin barely oats all that music knows of sadness and lamentation were jeffrey's themes in that solitude of two the music itself had an unearthly sound and the face of the player sharpened and wasted by illness and by grief had an unearthly look as the firelight flashed upon it where the shadows darkened it while those lonely days were on allen began to have a curious feeling about his companion the consciousness of a gulf that was gradually widening between them a something sinister indefinite, indescribable it would be too much to say that he felt he was with an enemy but he felt that he was in the presence of the unknown he woke one night turning weirdly on his Arab bed the mat spread on the ground which use had taught him almost to like he woke and saw jeffrey sitting up on his mat on the other side of the hut his back against the wall his eyes looking straight at allen with an inscrutable expression dislike or was it fear that looked out of those widely opened eyes why fear what's the matter allen as quickly have you just awakened from a bad dream no life is my bad dream and there's no awakening from that only the change to dreamlessly what were you thinking about then life and death and love and hate and all things said and strange and cruel do you remember living stone's description of a Bukkwana chief tens burial his people dig a grave in his cattle pen and bury him there and then they drive the cattle round and over the spot till every trace of the newly filled in grave is obliterated we are not as candid as the Bukkwana men we put up a statue of our great man where at least we talk about a statue but in six months he is as much forgotten as if the cattle had pranced and trampled over his body prim rose day the lies your cynicism prim rose day a fashion as much as the November bonfire of all the people who wear the beacons field badge three fours could not tell you who beacons field was or how much or how little he did for england do you remember something else in living stone's book how the tribes who met him said give us sleep in their prayer to the possible wonder worker give me sleep jeff i'm dead beat why we did nothing yesterday a beggarly eight miles perhaps it was the thunder storm that took it out of me well sleep away the tribes were right there's no better gift would it help you if i played a little very softly i have a devil tonight which only music will cast out yes play but don't be too legubrious my heart is one great ache without moving from his mat jeffree stretched a thin hand towards the fiddle case that laid beside his pillow opened it noiselessly and took out the amati then with his haigut eyes still fixed on the reclining figure opposite him he drew a long sobbing cord out of the strings and began a nocturne of show pens delicatis melody played with exquisite delicacy the very music of sleep and dreams i'm talking to her he murmured to himself softly across the great continent across the great sea over burning desert and tropical wilderness my voice is calling to her i'm telling her the story of my heart as i used to tell her in the dear days at discomb the dear unheating days when my bow talked to her half in sport when i hardly knew if the wild thrill that ran along my veins meant a life long love the music served a lullaby for alan and it soothed jeffrey whose brain had been overcharged with hideous fancies as he sat up in his bed listening to the ticking of the watch that hung against the wall and looking at his slumbering companion darkest thoughts thoughts of what might happen if this throbbing brain of his were to lose his balance he'd been thinking of the narrow wall between reason and unreason and of the madness that may come out of one absorbing idea where did a passionate love like his end and monomania begin was it well that they too should be alone together with only these black beasts of burden he thought of one of the men a grinning good nature looking animal the best of their porters of whom it was told that setting out on a journey with one of his wives he arrived at his destination without her it might have been his honeymoon that wild beasts had eaten the lady but it was known afterwards that he had killed her and chopped her up on the way anger jealousy convenience who knows the man was a good servant and nobody cared about this episode in his career was murder so easy then easy to do easy to forget a great horror came over him at thought of the deeds that had been done in the world by men of nature's like his own by despairing lovers by jealous husbands by men over whose ill-balanced minds one idea obtained the mastery and under the dominion of such ghastly fancies he looked forward to the journey they too were to make a journey that all told was likely to last the greater part of a year alone together seeing each other's faces day after day each thinking the same thoughts and not daring to speak those thoughts each with fonder and more passionate yearning as the time drew nearer when they should meet the woman they loved each knowing that happiness for one must mean misery for the other friends in outward seeming rivals and foes at heart they were to go on journeying side by side day after day lying down beside the same fire night after night waking in the darkness to hear each other's breathing and to know that a loaded rifle lay within reach of their hands and that a bullet would end all their difficulties it was horrible I was an idiot to undertake the impossible to believe that I could be happy and at ease with this man if I were to go home alone she would have me he told himself it was only for Alan's sake she hung back so tender so overscrupulous rusty champagne the lever she had jilted if he were to go home alone was not that possible without the suggestion of darkest inequity if he could go home and gain say half a year before his rival reappeared upon the scene would not that half year suffice for the winning of his bride if she loved me as I think she loved me and if she as noble of nature as I believe her to be two years of severance will have tried and strengthened her love she will love me all the dearer for my wanderings and if Alan is not there to remind of his wrongs to appeal to her to scrupulous conscience I shall win her to go back alone to divide their resources to divide their followers and each to set out on his own way useless such a parting as that for Alan might be the first to tread on English soil the first to clasp Suzette's hands in the gladness of friends who meet after long absence if he were to be the first she might deceive herself in the joy of seeing a familiar face and think she loved him and give him back her promise in a fit of penitent affection there are such nice shades in love she must have had a certain fondness for him it might revive right not there revive and seem enough for happiness I must be first I must be first and alone in the field he hated himself for the restless impatience which had made him join fortunes with Alan what had he to do with the rejected he who knew that he was loved they crept slowly on Alan was ailing and unable to stand the fatigue of a long march through a close and difficult country that week of watching beside patronton sickbed and the agony of losing that kindly comrade had shattered his nerves and reduced his physical strength almost as much as an actual illness could have reduced him he felt the depressing influence of the climate as the days grew more sultry and the thunderstorms more frequent all the spirit and all the pleasure seemed to have vanished out of the expedition since the digging of that grave under the sycamore their day's journey dwindled and their halts grew longer at the rate they were now traveling it would take them a year to reach the falls they had left you Gigi more than a month and they were still a long way to the east of Casanga the busy center of Arab commerce and population where they could make any purchases they wanted refit for the rest of their journey or perhaps make a contract with the mighty tipu who would provide them with men and food till the end of the land journey for a lump sum while patronton lived they had looked forward to the halt at Casanga with keen interest but now zest and pleasurable curiosity were gone and a dull lassitude weighed like an actual burden upon both travelers both were like spiritless and even Jeffrey's raids in quest of meat were neither so frequent nor so far afield as they had been and his men began to lose something of their admiration for him he was growing over fond of that creak of his over fond of sitting in the veranda talking with that curious Trixie spirit now drawing forth sobbing cries like funeral dirges now with frisking flickering touch that danced and flashed across the strings with hand as rapid as light with fingers that flew and eyes that flashed fire these wild dances were grasshoppers he told them and when he began the wailing music that thrilled and pained them his macalolos would lie down as his feet and then treat him to change it to a grasshopper we hate him when he cries they said of the fiddle we love him when he leaps and dances and you would follow him and me anywhere across the land Jeffrey asked laughing down at the brown faces anywhere if you promise us your guns at the end of the journey two days later Alan succumbed to the feeling of prostration which had been growing upon him during the last four or five stages of the journey and confessed himself unable to start it was in the freshness of dawn the mists were creeping off the maniac fields wide stretches of tropical foliage beyond the patch of rude cultivation the brown figures were moving about in the pearly light women fetching water children sprawling on the rich red earth their plump shining bodies only a little browner than the soil happy in their nakedness and dirt placid and unashamed the porters were shouldering their loads the lean long-legged mongols were yelping the frogs croaking their morning hymn to the sun I'm afraid it's hopeless Alan faltered as he leaned against one of the rough supports of the veranda wiping the moisture from his forehead I'm dead beat I can't go on unless you carry me in a litter and that's hardly worthwhile with our small following you'd better go on to Casango, Jeff and leave me here till I am able to follow if I don't turn up within a few days of your arrival you can get the chief to send some of his men to me with a donkey if there's one to be had the villagers will take care of me in the meantime it isn't fever you see holding out his cold moist hand to his friend it's not the moot kangaroo this time I'm just dead beat that's all there's no good fighting against hard fact Jeff mamboo qua mangoo it is God's trouble one must submit to be inevitable Jeff we looked at him curiously leave you to these savages in the Man Yama country no that would be a beastly thing to do he said with his cynical laugh I'm not quite bad enough for that Alan how do I know they wouldn't eat you they've been civil enough so far but I believe it's because of my fiddle they take me for medicine man and my little amati for a capricious devil they can give them toco if they don't act on the square I won't leave you like that but I'll tell you what I'll do we'll divide forces for a little bit I'll leave you the larger party and I am I'm Michael Lowe Lowe's we'll go and look for big game Alan crept into the hut and sank down upon his mat while his comrade was talking he had hardly strength to answer him he lay there right and down while Jeffrey spread the blanket over him and wiped his forehead with a silk anchor chin do what you like Jeffrey murmur and do the best for yourself I don't want to with an obvious effort as if his limbs were made of lead and presently sank into a sleep which seemed almost stupor my god mother Jeffrey looking down at him is he going to die can death come like that as if in answer to a wicked wish he went out and talked to the men giving them stringent orders as to what they were to do for the sick Musangu he was going on a shooting expedition with only four men the rest around dozen would remain with the other Musangu and nurse him and take care of him and obey his orders when he was well enough to move and above all not attempt robbery or desertion as they the two Musangus have letters from the Sultan of Zanzibar to Nezegu the Arab chief at Casango and any evil treatment would be bitterly expiated you know how small account the white Arabs make of a black man's life he concluded yes they knew he went back to the hut and to the store quinine and other drugs and he prepared such doses as it would be well for Alan to take at fixed periods and then he instructed the leader of the porters Azanzibari who had been with Burton and afterwards was standing as to the treatment of the sick man he was to do this and this once twice twice between sunrise and sundown the division of the day by ours not having yet been revealed to these primitive minds say how often are you hungry in the day and how often do you eat three times then every time you are hungry and before you sit down to eat you will give the Musangu his medicine one of the powders as I put them ready for you mixed with water as he has often given them to you and if you forget or don't care to give him his medicine evil will come to you for I shall put a spell upon the door and wicked spirits will hurt you if you don't obey me after this he called his macalolos and one of the yam west seas for whom he had shown a liking and who worshiped him with a slavish subjugation of all personal will power he told them he was going on a hunting expedition that might last many days and they must take baggage enough to assure themselves against being left to starve upon the way he countered the bales of cloth the bags of beads brass headed nails brass wire and he set apart about a fourth of the whole stock and with these doors he loaded his men and so in the full blaze of the morning sun this little company went out into the jungle turning their faces eastward towards the mountains that rose between them and the sea of Ugg into chapter 30 chapter 31 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Braden this LibriVox recording is in the public domain where the burden is heaviest the deep toned organ peeled through the empty manor house in the gloom of a rainy summer afternoon not once in the long dull day had the sun looked through the low dull sky and Mrs. Warnock always peculiarly sensible of every change in the atmosphere felt that life was just a little sadder and emptier than it had been for her in all the long slow years of a lonely widowhood what had she to live for the brief romance of her girlhood was all she had ever known of the love which for most women means a life history for her it had been only the beginning of a chapter ending in self-sacrifice as blind and piteously faithful to duty as Abraham's obedience to the Divine and after all those years of fond fidelity to a memory she had seen her lover again once for a few minutes by still through an open window undreamt of by him what had she to live for a son whose restless spirit would not allow him to be her companion and friend in whose feverish life she was of so little value that he could leave her for a pilgrimage to Central Africa with a brief goodbye as if it were a small thing for her mother and son to live with half the world between them it seemed to her sometimes brooding upon the past year that Alan Karoo had cared for her more was more in sympathy with her than that very son as if some hereditary sentiment some mystic link with the father who had loved her brought the son nearer to her heart and now they were both so distant that she thought of them almost as mournfully out of trouble hung over their forms as she tried to see them in that far off world ever impending dangers which haunted her in her dreams until the words of St. Paul burnt themselves into her brain and she would awake from some wild shapeless dream of horror hearing her own voice with that awful sound of the dreamers voice repeating in journeyings in perils of waters in perils of robbers in perils by the heathen in wilderness in perils in the sea in weariness and painfulness in hunger and thirst Suzette had been absent for nearly a year and Suzette's absence had increased the sense of loss and deepened the gloom of the rambling old house and those primarily picturesque gardens where the girls bright face and graceful figure flitting in and out from arch to arch between the walls of Islex or U had been a living gladness that seemed only a natural accompaniment offering flowers, sulfur butterflies and the deepening purple of the beaches and the joyous awakening of the year but Suzette had returned from her travels nearly a year since and had taken up the thread of life again and with it her old friendship for Mrs. Warnock feeling herself secure from the risk of all violent emotions in her friend's house now that Jeffrey was a good many thousand miles away Suzette had brought comfort to the lonely life that she and Mrs. Warnock had read books of African travel explored maps and followed the route of the travelers. General Vincent was a fellow of the geographical society and the monthly report issued by that society kept his daughter informed of the latest progress in the history of exploration while the society's library was at her disposal for books of travel. It seemed to Suzette in that quiet year after her homecoming that she read reading but African books and began almost to think in the Swahili language picking up words in every chapter till they became as familiar as French phrases in that society novel she was quieter than of old people said less interested in golf caring nothing for a church bazaar which was the one absorbing topic in that particular summer wrapped up in her musical studies and practicing a great deal too much as official friends informed general Vincent Suzette must do what she likes he said she has always been my master but egged on by the same official friends he bought his daughter a horse and insisted on her riding with him and they went for long rides over the downs and sometimes were lucky enough to fall in with the hawks and see a few innocent rooks slotted high up in the blue of an April sky he shrank from questioning his daughter about the young men who were gone she had been very ill languid in white and wan and spiritless when he carried her off to Germany and had required a good deal of patching up before she became anything like the happy active high spirited Suzette of the Indian Hills who had charmed everybody old and young by her bright prettiness and joy in life German waters German woods and hills followed by nature on the Riviera and a long holiday by the Italian lakes had set her up again and general Vincent was content to wait till time should unravel the mystery of a maiden's heart those young men will come back he told his sister and then I shouldn't wonder if Jeffrey were to renew his offer and to be accepted for since she gave Alan the sack without any provocation I concluded Jeffrey she cares for washed my hands of her and her love affairs Mrs. Mornington retorted waspishly she might have married Alan a young man who adored her and a very good match very good now his father is gone she jilted Alan one would suppose solely because she was in love with Jeffrey oh dear no she refuses Jeffrey and sends to excellent young men each and only son with a stake in the country to bake themselves black in a wilderness where they will very likely be eaten after they are baked I have no patience with her don't be cross Mollie there's no use worrying about her lovers thank God she has recovered her health and is my own sweet little girl still sweet little fiddle stick coquette weather cock Jill that's what she is take my word for it or not we'll come back again when he's tired of Africa and propose again the rain of sense young men don't come back to girls who treat them badly the general took things easily he had his daughter and his daughter would be comfortably provided for when his day was done he was more than content with the present arrangement of things and he felt the Providence had been very good to him Suzette came in upon Mrs. Warnock's loneliness that rainy afternoon like a sudden burst of sunlight so fresh after a walk through the rain so daintily light in the pretty blue and white Pongee frock with your waterproof cloak had preserved from all harm I did not think you would come today dear did you think the rain would frighten me the walk was lovely in spite of a persistent drizzle the woods are so fresh and sweet and every little insignificant wildflower sparkles like a jewel I have a tiny bit of news for you not bad news no I hope not Lady Emily is at beach she came late last night the cook at the vicarage saw her arrive and Bessie Edgefield told me this morning do you think it means that Alan is expected home and Jeffrey with him would do God it meant that I am getting very weary Suzette weary to death my anxiety is like a wearing physical pain it is so long since we have heard anything of them yes it seems very long Suzette murmured soothingly it is very long quite four months since I had Jeffrey's last letter do you think it is really as much as that I know it is and there is the postmark to convince you glancing at this secretary where she kept those treasured letters Jeffrey Selvendate's a letter I've read that last one again and again and again they read you Gigi the place seemed almost civilized as he described it but they were to cross the lake later on the great lake like an inland city to cross in an open boat how do I know that they were not drowned in that crossing he told me the natives were afraid of going on the lake in a storm and he is so foolhardy so careless of himself he may have over persuaded them Hart cried Suzette a visitor what a day for callers to choose they must really wish to find you at home there was the usual delay caused by the leisurely stroll of a footman from the servants quarters to the hall and then the door of the music room was open and the leisurely footman announced Lady Emily Karoo Lady Emily shook hands with Mrs. Warnock with her clinging almost affectionate air and allowed herself to be led to an easy chair near the hearth where some logs were burning to give a semblance of cheerfulness amidst the prevailing gray of the outside world there was a marked contrast in the ladies' greeting of Suzette to whom she saved no handshake only the most formal salutation the mother of an only son whom she deems perfection cannot easily forgive the girl who goes near to breaking his heart I was so surprised to hear you were at Beachhurst said Mrs. Warnock I hope you bring good news that the travelers aren't nearing home Lady Emily could hardly answer for her tears indeed no she said piteously my news is very bad not rest at home I thought you might have heard lately from Mr. Warnock my latest letter is four months old ah then you can tell me nothing Alan has written later he wrote the night before they left Ugg but the news the bad news what was it very very bad they are alone now our sons alone among savages in an unknown country friendless helpless what is to become of them but Mr. Patrington deserted them no no poor fellow he would never have deserted them he is dead he died of fever the news of his death was cabled to his brother by Alan the message came from Zanzibar but he died on his way from the lake to Kasanga that was Alan's message died of fever on the journey to Kasanga Alan's last letter was from Ugg they were all well when he wrote and in good spirits looking forward to the journey down the Congo and now their leader is dead the man who knew the country and they are alone helpless and ignorant they are men Suzette flashed out indignantly her eyes sparkling with tears they will fight their way through difficulties like men of courage and resource I don't think you need be frightened Mrs. Warnock nor you lady Emily it is very good of you to console me Miss Vincent replied Alan's mother but if you had known your mind a little better my son need never have gone to Africa I'm sorry you should think me so much to blame but what would you have thought of me if I had not told Alan the truth well you have sent him away and he is dead perhaps dead in the wilderness of fever like poor Cecil Patrington Suzette bowed her head and was silent under this reproof she could feel for the mother was content to bear unmerited blame she went to the organ and occupied herself in putting away the scattered sheets of music with that deaf neatness which in her case was an instinct the two mothers sat side by side and talked and wept together they could but speculate upon the condition and the whereabouts of the wanderers those few words from Zanzibar told them so little Cecil Patrington's elder brother had written to lady Emily in closing a copy of the message with the polite hope that her son would find his way safely home there was no passionate grief among his relations at home for the wanderer who lay in his final halting place under the great Sycamore long years of absence had weakened family ties and the head of the house of Patrington was a busy country squire with an increasing family and a diminishing rent role Suzette put on her hat Mrs. Warnock goodbye she would have left with only a little bend of the head to lady Emily but that kindly matron had repented herself of her harshness and held out her hand with a pathetic look which went straight to the girl's heart forgive me for what I said just now she pleaded I'm almost beside myself with anxiety you were not to blame truth is always the best but my poor Alan was so fond of you and you and he might have been so happy if you had only loved him I did love him once faltered Suzette but later it seemed as if my love were not enough not enough for a lifetime ah but there was someone else we know Mrs. Warnock someone who is like my poor son but cleverer, handsomer, more fascinating it was Mr. Warnock's return that changed you no no no Suzette protested eagerly if it had been I might have acted differently please don't talk about me and my folly not to know myself or my own heart they are both the way God grant they are well and happy and enjoying the beauty and the strangeness of that wonderful country why should they not be safe and happy there think how many years Mr. Patrington had spent in Africa before the end came why should they not be as safe as Cameron Stanley trivia her heart sank even as she argued in this consoling strain remembering how with Stanley and with trivia there was one left behind but here perhaps the fates were already appeased one had fallen by the way the sacrifice had been made to the cruel goddess of the dark land will you come to Beechhurst with me Suzette pleaded Allen's mother it would be so kind if you would come and stay with me till tomorrow morning I shall leave by the first train tomorrow I want to be at home again to be there when Allen's letter comes there must be a letter soon I think General Vincent could spare you for just one night Suzette proposed that Lady Emily should dine at Marsh House but she seemed to take up morbid pleasure in her son's house in spite of its loneliness so Suzette drove back to match him with her took her to tea with the general and obtained his permission to dine and sleep at Beechhurst and did all that could be done by unobtrusive kindness and attention to console and cheer Allen's mother end of chapter chapter 31 chapter 32 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Bratton this LibriVox recording is in the public domain all in honor it was nearly a month after Lady Emily's appearance at Discombe and there had been no letter from Jeffrey every day had increased Mrs. Warnock's anxiety and in the face of an ever growing fear there had been a task of avoidance a small mention of the absent son both on the part of his mother and of Suzette they had talked of music of the gardens of the poor and of the latest developments in that science of the supernatural in which Mrs. Warnock's interest had never abated and in which her faith had never been entirely shaken once in the midst of discussing the last number of the psychical magazine was Suzette a sad skeptic she said quietly whatever has happened I know he is not dead I must have seen him, I must have known there would have been some sign Suzette was silent not for worlds which she had dashed to faith which buoyed up the fainting spirit yet it needed but some dreadful dream she reflected a dead face seen amidst the clouds of sleep to change this blind confidence and to despair it was in the evening following this conversation that Suzette was sitting on the piano alone in her own drawing room playing for memory and losing herself in the web of a Hungarian nocturne which was to her like thinking and music the composers learned sequences and changes of key seeming only a vague expression of her own sadness her father was dining out a man's dinner a dissipation he rarely allowed himself and Suzette was relieved from her evening task of playing chess reading aloud to Tiger's stories which had lost none of their interest from familiarity the fondly loved father being the hero of every adventure she was glad to be alone tonight for her heart was full of dread of the news which the next African letter might bring she had tried to make light of the leader's death yet she too thought with a shutter of the two young men alone inexperienced and one of them at least reckless and daring even to follow that wailing Hungarian reverie with its minor modulation seemed to shape itself into a dream of Africa the endless jungle the vastness of swamp and river the beauty and the terror of gigantic waterfalls huge walls of water a river leaping over a precipice into a gulf of darkness and snow white foam the scenes of which she had been reading lately crowded into her mind and filled with faking fears Suzette a voice called her softly from the open window she looked up trembling and cold with an awful fear his voice Jeffries a spectral voice the voice of a ghost calling to her the unbeliever from the other side of the world calling in death or after death to the woman the living man had loved she rose with the faint scream and rushed to the window and was clasped in the living Jeffries arms on the threshold between the garden and the room she flung herself into his arms in her fear and great surprise or had he seized her as she ran to him she could not tell she knew only that she was sobbing on his breast clasped into gaunt arms which held her as in a grasp of iron Jeffery Jeffery alive and well what delight for your poor mother was she not wild with happiness she asked when he released her after a shower of kisses upon forehead and lips which she pretended to ignore and that began quarreling with him in these first moments of delighted surprise he followed her into the room and she saw his face in the light of the lamp on the piano worn haggard wasted but with eyes that were full of fire and gladness Suzette Suzette he cried clasping her hands and trying to draw her to his heart again it was worth a journey over half the world to find you so sweet so fair all that my dreams have shown me night night after night our love we have never been parted your image has never left me Africa has done you no good you are as full of wild nonsense as ever she said trying to take the situation lightly yet trembling with emotion her heart beating loud and fast her eyes hardly daring to meet the eyes that dwelt upon her face so fondly tell me about your mother was she not surprised happy I hope she will be a little glad I haven't seen her yet not seen your mother no child a man can't have two lodestars I came straight from Zanzibar to this house I came home to you Suzette but you will go to the manor directly your poor mother has been so miserable about you don't lose a minute in making her happy lose these minutes are gold the most precious minutes of my life oh Suzette how cruel you were why did you drive me from you she was in his arms again held closely in those wasted arms caught in the coils of that passionate love she scarcely knew how he was taking everything for granted and she knew not how to resist and she had no argument to offer against that triumphant love cruel cruel cruel Suzette two years of exile two wasted lonely years years of fond longing and looking back why did you send me away no I won't ask it was all in honor all in honor my dearest is made up of honorable scruples and delicate sympathies which this rough nature of mine can't understand but you loved me Suzette you loved me from the first as I loved you our hearts went out to meet each other over the bridge of my violin flew out to each other in a burst of melody and we will go on loving each other till the last breath the last pain glimmer of life's brief candle ah love forgive me if I rave I am beside myself with joy I think you are a little out of your mind she faulted she let him rave she accepted the situation ah surely surely it was this man she loved it was this eager spirit which had passed like a breath of fire between her and Alan this masterful nature which had possessed itself of her heart as of a mirrored chattel that must needs be the prize of the strongest she submitted to the tyranny of a love which would not accept defeat and presently they sat down side by side in the soft lamp light close to the piano which she loved only a little less than if it were human they sat down side by side his arms still round the slim waist plighted lovers poor Alan she sighed with a remorseful pang as he gone down to Suffolk to Suffolk he is on the Congo past Stanley falls I hope by this time on the Congo you have left him quite alone oh Jeffrey how could you why not he is safe enough he knows the country as well as I I left him near Kosango where he could train and as many stores as he wanted that we have done now as days with long trains army supporters and a mountainous load of provisions where will Lady Emily say she will be dreadfully unhappy I could not have believed you and Alan would part company after Mr. Patrington's death why not we were both strangers in the land he knows how to take care of himself as well as I do but two men companions and friends surely they would be safer than one Englishman traveling alone said Zuzette deeply distressed at the thought of what Alan's mother would suffer when she knew that her son's comrade had left him do you think two men are safer from fever poisoned arrows the bursting of a gun the swapping of a canoe my dearest Alan is just as safe alone as he was when he was one of three he had learned a good deal about the country and he knew how to manage the natives and he had stores and ammunition and the means of getting plenty more don't let me see that sweet face clouded oh my love my love I shall never forget your welcoming smile the light upon your face as you ran to the window I'd always believed in your love always even when you were cruel list but tonight I know I know that I am the chosen one he let his head sink on her shoulder and nestled against her like a child at rest near his mother's heart how could she resist a love so fervent so resolute a spirit like Satan's not to be changed by place or time it is the lover who will not be denied the selfish impetuous unscrupulous lover who has always the better chance and in a case like this it was a foregone conclusion that he who came back first would be the winner the first strong appeal to the heart that had been tried by absence and anxiety the first returning wave of romantic love it was something more than a lover's return it was the awakening of love from a long sleep that had seemed dull and gray and hopeless as death I thought you would never come back side Suzette resigning herself to the tyranny of the conqueror contented last to be taken by our coup d'etat I was afraid you and Alan would be left in that dreadful country and I had to make believe to thank you as safe as if you were in the next parish I had to be cheerful and full of hopefulness for your mother's sake your poor mother starting up suddenly oh Jeffery how cruel that we should be sitting here while she is left in ignorance of your return and she has suffered an agony of fear since she heard of poor Mr. it is shameful you must go to her this instant must die my queen and mistress this instant it will be a shock to her even in the joy of your return to see how thin and haggard you have grown what suffering you must have gone through only one kind of suffering only one melody Suzette I was sick for love of you love made me do forced marches love kept me awake of nights impatience was the fever that burnt in my blood love and longing for you yes yes I'm going as she put her hand her eyes on and led into the window I would be at my mother's feet in half an hour needing to ask for her blessing on my betrothal there would be a double joy for her Suzette in my homecoming and my happiness I left her a restless unquiet spirit I go back to her tamed and happy yes yes only go remember that every minute of her life of late has been a minute of anxiety and she loves you so devotedly Jeffery she has only you to love I'm going but not till you have told me how soon Suzette how soon what our marriage Jeffery how absurd of you to talk about that when I hardly know that we are engaged I know it we are bound implied as never lovers were to my knowledge since Romeo and Juliet how long did Romeo wait Suzette 24 hours I think I shall have to wait longer for a special license Jeffery unless you hurry away to the man of this instant I will never speak civilly to you again why would a fury my love can be what an exquisite term again yes I will wait for the license come to the gate with me Suzette they went through the dusky garden to the old-fashioned five-barred gate which opened onto a circular drive the night was cool and gray and the white bloom of a catalytic tree gleamed ghost light among the dark masses of the shrubbery a bat wheeled across the greyness in front of the lovers as they kissed and parted until I can get the license he repeated with his happy laugh we'll wait for nothing else as she hung up her head and running away a swift white figure vanishing in the bend of the drive as he stood watching her thank God he ejaculated the reward is worth all that has gone before End of Chapter 32 Chapter 33 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Bradden this Libri Vox recording is in the public domain Am I his keeper Before the sun had gone down upon the second day after Jeffrey's return, his engagement to Ms. Vizsant had become known to almost every member of Matjom Society who had any right to be posted in the proceedings of the elite. Mrs. Morington dropping in at her brother's house after breakfast and before her daily excursion to the village was transformed into a statue of surprise on the very threshold of a hall adhering, fiddling in her brother's drawing room, unmistakably fiddling of a superior order, a fiddle whose grandiose chords rose loud and strong above the rippling notes of a piano, a quaint old melody of poor pours in strongly marked common time, a very like accompaniment of delicate treble runs light as a gauzy veil flung over the severe outlines of a bronze statue. She must be having accompanying lessons thought Mrs. Morington, some fiddler from Salisbury I suppose. She marched into the drawing room with the privileged unceremoniousness of an aunt and found Jeffrey Warnock standing beside the piano at which Suzette was sitting fresh as a rose in a pale green frock that looked like the calyx of a living flower. Home cried Mrs. Morington with a step backward and again becoming statuesque and I have been picturing you as eaten by tigers or tomahawk by savages. The African tiger is only a panther and there are no tomahawks, answered Jeffrey, laying down his bow and going across the room to shake hands with Mrs. Morington, the Amadi still under his chin, and Alan where's Alan? I left him on his way to the Congo. You left him? Came back without him? Yes. He wanted to extend his travels to cross Africa. I was not so ambitious. I only wanted to come home. His smile as he turned to look at Suzette told the astute matron all she desired to know. So she exclaimed, is the weather cock nailed to the vein at last? The ship which has been tossing so long upon a sunless sea is safe in her haven, answered Jeffrey. Mrs. Morington's king perceptions took a swift review of the position, a much better match than poor Alan. Discomb with revenues that had accumulated at compound interest during a long minority must be better than Beechhurst, a mere villa, and an estate in Suffolk of which Mrs. Morington knew very little, except that it was hedged in and its glory overshadowed by the lands of a most noble and a right honorable or two. Discomb, the scribe Discomb was a personage in that little world of matron, and the world of matron was all on the earthward side of the universe for which Mrs. Morington cared. Suzette's shillie-challenged little ways had answered admirably. It seemed, after all, how wisely Providence orders things if we will only fold our hands and wait. Don't let me interrupt your musical studies, young people exclaimed the good lady. I only came to know if Suzette was going to the golf ground. Of course, I'm going on to if you are walking that way and want company. It was the kind of day on which only hat and gloves are needed for outdoor toilette, and Suzette's neat little hat was ready for her in the hall. They all three went off to the links together along the dusty road and through the busy little village, busy just for one morning hour, and to the common beyond the long stretch of common that skirted the high road in which everybody declared to have been created on purpose for golf. Mrs. Morington talked about Alan nearly all the way. Her regret that he had extended his travels regret felt mostly on his mother's account. I think he always meant to cross from C to C. Jeffrey answered carelessly. His mother ought to have been prepared for that. He read Trivia's book and that inspired him and really crossing Africa means very little nowadays. Once people at home needn't worry about it. Mr. Patrington did not find it so easy. Poor Patrington. No, he was unlucky. There is no reckoning with fever. That is the worst enemy. Did you bring home a letter for Lady Emily? No, Alan wrote from Uggie. That letter would reach England much quicker than I could. But you will go to see her. I dare say no doubt it would be a comfort to her to talk to you about her son to her all those details which letters so seldom give. I will go if she asked me. Suzette has written to tell her of my return. She will ask you, I'm sure, or she may come to be cherished as she came only a month ago in the hope of hearing a balanced movements from your letters to your mother. I was never so good a correspondent or so good a son as Alan. They were at the golf ground by this time and here Mrs. Morington left them and meeting five of her particular friends on the way told them how a strange thing had happened and that Jeffrey Warnock who had left England broken hearted because Suzette have rejected him had come back suddenly from Africa and had been accepted. He took her by storm poor child but after all I believe she always preferred him to poor Alan. There seemed nothing wanting now to Mrs. Warnock's happiness or sounded return not to restlessness and impatience not to weary again of his beautiful home but to settle down soberly with the wife he adored. His mother was to live with him always the manor house was still to be her home the music room her room the organ hers in all things she was to be as she had been plus the son she loved and the daughter-in-law she would have chosen for herself from all the daughters of earth. If it were not that I'm sorry for Alan there would not be a cloud in my sky. She told her son on the second night after his return when he had quieted down a little from that fever of triumphant gladness which had possessed him after his conquest of Suzette. Dear mother there is no use in being sorry for Alan. We could not both be winners to be sorry for him as to grudge me my delight and I could easily come to believe that you are founder of Alan then of me Jeffrey. Well I'll never say so again if you'll only leave off lamenting about Alan. He will have all the world before him when he comes back to England. Somewhere no doubt there are love and sympathy and beauty and youth waiting for him. When he knows that Suzette has made her choice he will accept the inevitable and fall in love with somebody else not at match them. There was the faintest touch of irritation in his reply that incessant reference to Alan began to jar upon his nerves wherever he went he had to answer the same questions to explain how he wanted to come home and Alan wanted to go further away and how for that reason only they had parted. He began to feel like cane and to sympathize with that historical character. But the worst was still to come in the midst of a sonata of de Berrios long brilliant difficult a tour de force for Suzette whose fingers had not grappled with such music within the last two years the door of the music room was opened and Lady Emily Carew was announced just as upon that great afternoon a month ago. Forgive me for descending upon you again in this way. She said hurriedly to Mrs. Warnock who came from her seat by the window to receive the uninvited guest. I couldn't rest after I received Miss Vincent's letter. Nothing could have been colder than the Miss Vincent except the stately recognition of Suzette with which it was accompanied Mr. Warnock turning to Jeffrey without even noticing his mother's outstretched hand. Why did you leave my son? I thought Suzette had told you why we parted. He wished to go on. I wanted to come home. Is there anything extraordinary in that? Yes. When two men go to an uncivilized country full of dangers and difficulties and when the third their guide and leader has been snatched away surely it is very strange that they should part. Very cruel of the one whose stronger will insisted upon parting. If you mean to imply that I had no right to come back to England without your son I can only answer that you are very unjust. If you were a man Lady Emily I might be tempted to express my meaning in stronger words. Oh it is easy enough for you to answer me if you can satisfy your own conscience if you can answer to yourself for leaving your friend and comrade helpless and alone. Was he more helpless than I? We parted in the center of Africa. If I chose the easier and shorter route homework that route was just as open to him as to me. It was his own choice to go down the Congo River. No doubt his next letter whenever it may reach you will tell you all you can want to know as to his reasons for taking that route. When I offered myself as your son's companion I accepted no apprenticeship. I was tired of Africa. He wasn't. There was no compact between us. I was under no bond to stay with him. He may choose to spend his life there as seesaw patron to chose practically. I wanted to come home. Yes to be first to steal my son's sweetheart said Lady Emily pale with anger looking from Jeffrey to Suzette with flashing eyes. Lady Emily you are unreasonable. I am a mother and I love my son till I see him till I hear from his own lips that you are not a traitor that you did not abandon him in danger or distress for your own selfish ends. Till then I shall not cease to think of you as I think now. Your mother will of course believe whatever you tell her and Miss Vincent no doubt was easily satisfied but I'm not to be put off so lightly nor your conscience as your face tells me. She was gone before anyone could answer her. She waited for no courtesy of lead taking for no servant to lead the way. Her own resolute hand opened and shut the door before Mrs. Warnock could recover from the shock of her onslaught. Indeed in those few moments Mrs. Warnock had only eyes or apprehension for one thing and that was Jeffrey's white face. Was it anger or remorse that made him so deadly pale? While his mother watched him wanderingly filled with a growing fear his sweetheart was too deeply wounded by Lady Emily's scornful speech to be conscious of anything but her own pain. She went back to her place at the piano and bent her head over a page of music pretending to study an intricate passage but unable to read a single bar through her thickly gathering tears. End of Chapter 33 Chapter 34 of Sons of Fire by Mary Elizabeth Braddon this LibriVox recording is in the public domain a shadow across the path no more was seen or heard of Lady Emily at Machem except the one fact that she had returned to Suffolk on the morning after her brief appearance at the manner nothing more was known about that poor lonely lady whom adverse fate had cut adrift from all she loved. At Beachhurst closed shutters told of the master's absence and the inquiries of the officious or the friendly elicited only the reply that Mr. Carew was still traveling in Africa and that no letters had been received from him for a long time. He was in a country where there were no post offices the housekeeper opined but she believed her lady's ship heard from him occasionally. Jeffrey's return and the news of his engagement to Miss Vincent made a pleasant excitement in the village and neighborhood. An early marriage was talked about Mr. Warnock had told the vicar that he was going to be married in a fortnight had spoken as if he were soul master of the situation as if such a nice girl as Suzette would allow herself to be hustled into marriage without time for a true so persisted Bessie Edgefield who assured her friends that there would be no wedding that year. It may be in January as she said but it won't be before the new year. Jeffrey had pleaded in vain he had won his sweetheart's promise but his sweetheart was not to be treated into masterful of fashion. God knows why we are waiting or what we are waiting for he said in one of those fits of nervous irritability which even Suzette's influence could not prevent hasn't my probation been long enough haven't I suffered enough haven't you kept me on the rack of uncertainty long enough to satisfy your love of power you are like all women you think of a lover as a surgeon thinks of a rabbit too low in the scale for his feelings to be considered just good enough for this section. Can't we be happy Jeffrey we have everything in the world that we care for I can never be happy till I'm sure of you I'm always dreading the moment in which you will tell me you have changed your mind I've given you my promise isn't that enough no it is not enough you gave Alan your promise and broke it she started up from her seat by the piano and turned upon him indignantly if you are capable of saying such things as that we better bid each other goodbye at once she said I won't submit to be reminded of my wrongdoing by you who are the sole cause of it if I've never seen you I should be Alan's wife this day you came between us you tempted me away from him and now you tell me I'm fickle and untrustworthy I begin to think I have made a worse mistake in promising to be your wife than I made when I engaged myself to Alan that means that you are regretting him that you wish he were here now in my place not in your place but I wish he were safe in England it makes me miserable to be so uncertain of his fate for his mother's sake well he will be in England soon enough I dare say but you will be my wife by that time and I shall be secure of my prize I shall be able to defy a hundred alans and then he sat down by her side and pleaded for her pardon almost with tears he hated himself for those jealous doubts which devoured him he told her those fears of he knew not what if she were but his wife his own forever that stormy soul of his would enter into a haven of peace the color of his life would be changed and even for Alan's sake he argued it is better that there should be no delay he will accept the situation more easily if he finds his man and wife a man always submits to the inevitable it is uncertainty which kills he pleaded and was forgiven and by and by Suzette was induced to consent to an earlier date for her marriage it was to be in the second week of December five months after Jeffrey's return and the honeymoon was to be spent upon that lovely shore where there is no winter and then early in the year Suzette and her husband were to establish themselves at this comb and the doors of the mountain or house were to be opened as they had never been opened since old square Warnock was a young man matching was in good spirits at the prospect of pleasant hospitality a going and coming of nice people from London nobody in the immediate neighborhood could help forward to entertain upon a scare which would be a matter of course for Jeffrey Warnock December will be here before we know where we are said Mrs. Mornington and her constitutional delight in action and bustle of all kinds again found a safety valve in the preparation of Suzette's true soul again she was confronted by a chilling indifference in the young lady for whom the clothes were being made she advised Suzette to spend a week in London in order to get her frocks and jackets from the best people Salisbury would have been good enough for Allen and Beachhurst but for square Warnock's wife for the Riviera and for Disco Manor the most fashionable London artists should be called upon for their best achievements I suppose you want to look well when you show yourself at can as Mrs. Warnock you won't want to be another awful example of an English woman wearing out her old clothes on the continent said Mrs. Mornington snappishly as the general was also in favor of a week in town Suzette consented and bored herself to death in the family circle of an aunt who was almost a stranger who had been offering her hospitality ever since she could remember at this lady's house in Bryan Stone Square she spent a weary week of shopping and trying on always under the commanding eye of Aunt Mornington who delighted in tramping about London out of the season a London in which one could do just what one liked without fear or favor of society and so the truth that was put in hand the wedding gown chosen the wedding cake order Mrs. Mornington taking all trouble off her brother's hands in the matter of the reception there was to be held after the wedding everybody was to be asked of course but the invitations were not to go out till at fortnight before the day I don't want people to suppose I'm giving them plenty of time to think about wedding presents Suzette explained when she insisted upon this short notice all these arrangements were made in October the marriage settlement was drafted and everybody was satisfied since Jeffrey's liberality had required the curb rather than the spur the rest of the year the lover said nothing to think of but each other and those great spirits of the past whose voices still spoke to them whose genius was the companion of their lives Beethoven Mozart Mendelssohn Chopin Schubert were the friends of those quiet days and love found its most eloquent interpreters in the language of the dead sometimes with a dim foreboding of evil Suzette found herself wondering what she would do with that fiery restless spirit were not for that soothing influence of music but you could not imagine Jeffrey disassociated from that second voice which seemed more characteristic of him than any spoken language that voice of passionate joys and passionate regrets of deepest melancholy and of wildest mirth music made a third in their lives the strongest link between them holding them aloof from that outside world to which the mysteries of harmony were unknown match them society shrugged shoulders of wonder not unmixed with disdain when it was told how Ms. Vincent practiced six hours a day at home or at disc home and how she was beginning to play as well as a professional there had been a little dinner at the manor house and Jeffrey and his betrothed had played a duet which they called uh saltrello and Mrs. Mornington was complimented on her niece's gifts her execution was really surprising no other young lady imagined to play like that the girls of the present day lived too much out of doors to aspire to execution if they could play some little thing of Schumann's or the E.C.S. Chopin's or Rubenstein's Volses they were satisfied with themselves the hunting season began but Jeffrey only hunted occasionally he went only when General Vincent and his daughter went not otherwise Suzette had three or four hunters at her disposal now and could have ridden two hounds three times a week had she so desired Jeffrey's first care had been to get some of his best horses ready for carrying a lady and she had her own thoroughbred clever and kind and able to carry her for a long day's work but Suzette was not rabid about riding the hounds and all weathers and at all distances she liked the day now and then when her father was inclined to take her but she had no idea of giving up her whole life books music cottage visiting home for fox hunting Jeffrey gave up many a day's sport in order to spend the wintry hours in the music room at disco when long rambles in the woods or over the downs with his betrothed was he happy having won his heart's desire Suzette sometimes found herself asking that question of herself not of him he was a creature of moods sometimes animated eloquent hopeful talking of life as if doubt saw satiety were unknown to him undreamt of by him at other times strangely depressed silent and gloomy a dismal companion for a joyous high spirited girl those moods of his scared Suzette but she was prepared to put up with them she had chosen him or allowed herself to be chosen by him she had bound herself to life companionship with that fitful eager spirit for him she had forsaken a lover whose happier nature need never have caused her and ours anxiety a man whose thoughts and feelings were easy to read and understand she had taken the lover whose caprices and moods had awakened a romantic interest had aroused first curiosity then sympathy and regard it was because he was a genius she loved him and she must resign herself to the capricious varieties of temperament which make genius difficult to deal with in everyday life no news the ballon reached matching to the beginning of november when mrs. mornington took upon herself to write to lady emily about him and received a very cold reply i heard from my son last week lady emily wrote after a stately acknowledgement of mrs. mornington's inquiry he has been laid up with fever but is better and on his way home he wrote from rooseville it is something to know that he did not die in the desert neglected and alone even on the eve of her marriage your niece may be glad to hear that my son has survived her unkindness and mr war knocks desertion and that i am hoping to welcome him home before long mrs. mornington showed the letter to susette whose mind was greatly relieved by this news of allen it is such a comfort to know that he is safe she told jeffrey after commenting upon the unkindness of lady emily's letter the news which was so cheering to her had a contrary effect upon her lover there was a look of trouble in jeffrey's face when he was told of allen's expected arrival and he took no pains to conceal his displeasure i'm sorry you have suffered such intense anxiety he said resentfully did you suspect me of having murdered him nonsense jeffrey i could not help thinking of all possible dangers and it distressed me to know that other people thought you unkind in leaving him other people have talked like fools as foolishly as his mother in whom one forgives folly i was not his nurse or a doctor or his hired servant i was only a casual companion and i was free to leave him how and when i pleased but not to leave him in distress or difficulty i knew you could not have done that i knew that you could not act ungenerously i think lady emily ought to make you a very humble apology for her rudeness when she has her son safe at home she may keep her apologies for people who value her opinion i shall be a thousand miles away when her son returns he was silent and gloomy for the rest of the morning and susette felt that she had offended him was he so jealous of her former lover that even the mention of his name a natural interest in his safety could awaken angry feelings and make a distance between them even their music went badly and mrs warnaught from her seat by the fire reproached them for careless playing that sonata purpose went ever so much better last week she said on which jeffrey threw down his bow in disgust i dare say you were right i'm not in the queue for music will you come for a ride directly after lunch susette i can drive you home and the horses can follow while you are getting on your habit we might fall in with the hounds susette declined this handsome offer she was not going to stay to lunch father complains that i'm never at home she said putting away the music your father is out with the hounds what is the use of your going back to an empty house i would rather be at home today jeffrey to think about ellen and offer a thanksgiving for his safety i'm full of thankfulness and i'm not ashamed of being glad she went over to mrs warnaught who had been too much absorbed in her book to be aware that the lovers were quarreling till susette's brief goodbye and rapid departure startled her out of her tranquility aren't you going to walk home with her jeffrey she asked when her son returned to the music room after escorting his sweetheart no further than the hall door no he answered curtly we have had enough of each other for today he went to the library where the morning papers were lying unread and turned to the second page of the times for the list of steamers and then to the shipping intelligence zanzibar yes there was a steamer reported from zanzibar she had passed the needles yesterday afternoon allen was in england perhaps if all went well with him he would come by the first ship after the mail that brought his letter he was in england he whom jeffrey had cruelly treacherously deserted helpless and alone all is fair in love jeffrey told himself but i wonder what susette will think of her future husband when she knows all her future husband if i were but her actual husband i could defy faith who knows something may have happened to him to his return a fit of fever a difficulty on the road three more weeks and he may come back safe and sound it won't matter to me i've no murderous thoughts about him he may tell her the worst he can about me once my wife i can hold and keep her in spite of the world i will teach her that the man who sins for love's sake must be forgiven for the sake of his love he was consumed with a fever of anxiety which would not let him rest within four walls he walked to be chursed and unearthed of caretaker who came strolling from the distant stables where he had been enlivening his idleness by gossip with the grooms the blinds and shutters were all closed nothing had been heard from mr caroo if he were in england you would have heard from him i suppose said jeffrey yes sir he would have wired no doubt my wife this housekeeper and she would have had noticed to get the house ready even if mr crew had gone to suffer in the first instance i should think so sir he would know we should want time to prepare for him there was relief in this no news perhaps the ship had passed the needles yesterday had carry no such passenger as the man whose return jeffrey warlock dreaded he went back to the manor in the gloom of a november twilight the deepening dusk and the loneliness of the road suited his humor he wanted to be alone to think out the situation to walk down the devil within him match in church clock was chiming the third quarter after four when he opened the gate and went into disco mood but when the disco dressing bell rang an old-fashioned bell in a cupola which gave needless information to every cottager within half a mile of the manor house jeffrey had not come in his dolly waited about for him till nearly dinner time and then went down to the drawing room to ask mrs warlock if his master was to dine at home he is not in his dressing room man will you wait dinner for him yes yes of course i should wait tell them to keep the dinner back the dinner was cut back so long that nobody eat any of it out of the servants hall mrs warlock spent a troubled evening in the music room full of harris sink beers while grooms rode here and there to marsh house to inquire if mr warlock was dining there to match him road station to ask if he had left by any train up or down the line to the big region most unlikely place and to other houses where it was just possible but most improbable that he should allow himself to be detained but nowhere within the narrow circle of matching life was mr warlock to be heard of pray don't be anxious about jeffrey susette wrote in answer to mrs warlock's hastily scribbled note of inquiry you know how erotic he is he was vexed at something i said about alam this morning and he's gone off somewhere in a huff keep up your spirits share it there i will be with you early tomorrow morning i am not frightened she is not frightened if she loved him as i do she would be as anxious as i am commented mrs warlock when she had read susette's letter end of chapter 34