D

ILLINOIS

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN

PRODUCTION NOTE

University of Illinois at
Urbana-Champaign Library
Brittle Books Project, 2015.COPYRIGHT NOTIFICATION

In Public Domain.
Published prior to 1923.

This digital copy was made from the printed version held
by the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
It was made in compliance with copyright law.

Prepared for the Brittle Books Project, Main Library,
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
by

Northern Micrographics
Brookhaven Bindery
La Crosse, Wisconsin

2015THE WITCH'S HEAD

BY

H. RIDER HAGGARD,

AUTHOR OF 'DAWN.'

IN THREE VOLUMES.
YOL. II.

LONDON:

HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,

13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.

1885.

4-H rights reserved.THE WITCH'S HEAD.

CHAPTER I.

MY POOR EVA !

m WO days after the pilot-boat, flitting
away from the vessel's side like some
silent-flighted bird, had vanished into the
night, Florence Ceswick happened to be
walking past the village post-office on her
way to pay a visit to Dorothy, when it
struck her that the afternoon post must
be in, and that she might as well ask if
there were any letters for Dum's Ness.
There was no second delivery at Kesterwick,
and she knew that it was not always' con-
venient to Mr. Cardus to send in. The

VOL. II.	B2	THE WITCH'S BEAD.

civil old postmaster gave her a little bundle
of letters, remarking at the same time that
he thought that there was one for the
Cottage.

' Is it for me, Mr. Brown %' asked Florence.

'No, miss; it is for Miss Eva.'

' Oh, then I will leave it; I am going
up to Dum's Ness. No doubt Miss Eva
will call.'

She knew that Eva watched the arrival
of the posts very carefully. When she got
outside the office she glanced at the bundle
of letters in her hand, and noticed with
a start that one of them, addressed to Mr.
Cardus, was in Ernest's hand-writing. It
bore a Southampton post-mark. What,
she wondered, could he be doing at South-
ampton 1 He should have been at Dieppe.

She walked on briskly to Dum's Ness,
and on her arrival found Dordthy sitting
working in the sitting-room. After sheMY POOR EVA !	3

had greeted her she handed over the
letters.

' There is one from Ernest,' she said.
' Oh, I am so glad,' answered Dorothy.
' Who is, it for ?'

' For Mr. Cardus. Oh, here he
comes.'

Mr. Cardus shook hands with her, and
thanked her for bringing the letters, which
he turned over casually, after the fashion-
of a man accustomed to receive large
quantities of correspondence of an unin-
teresting nature. Presently his manner
quickened, and he opened Ernest's letter.
Florence, fixed her keen eyes upon him.
He read the letter, she read his face.

Mr. Cardus was accustomed to conceal
his emotions, but on this occasion it was
clear that they were too strong for him.
Astonishment and grief pursued each other

across his features as he proceeded. Finally

B a4	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

he put the letter down and glanced at an
enclosure.

' ' What is it, Reginald, what is it ?' asked
Dorothy.

' It is/ answered Mr. Cardus solemnly,
' that Ernest is a murderer and a
fugitive.'

Dorothy sank into a chair with a groan,
and covered her face with her hands.
Florence turned ashy pale.

' What do you mean ?' she said.

' Read the letter for yourself, and see.
Stop, read it aloud, and the enclosure too.
I may have misunderstood.'

Florence did so in a quiet voice. It was
wonderful how her power came out in
contrast to the intense disturbance of the
other two. The old man of the world shook
like a leaf, the young girl stood firm as
a rock. Yet in all probability her interest
in Ernest was more intense than his.MY POOR EVA!	5

"When she had finished, Mr. Cardus spoke
again.

' You see/ he said, ' I was right. He is
a murderer and an outcast. And I loved
the boy, I loved him. Well, let him go.'

' Oh, Ernest, Ernest,' sobbed Dorothy.

Florence glanced from one to the other
with contempt.

' What are you talking about ?' she said
at last. '"What is there to make all this
fuss about ? " Murderer " indeed ! then our
grandfathers were often murderers. What
would you have had him do ? Would you
have had him give up the woman's letter
to save himself? Would you have had him
put up with this other man's insults about
his mother ? If he had I would never have
spoken to him again. Stop that groaning,
Dorothy. You should be proud of him ; he
behaved as a gentleman should. If I had
the right" I should be proud of him,' and6	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

her breast heaved, and the proud lips curled
as she said it.

Mr. Cardus listened attentively, and it
was evident that her enthusiasm moved
him.

' There is something in what Florence
says,' he broke in. ' I should not have liked
the boy to show the white feather. But
it is an awful business to kill one's own
first cousin, especially when one is next
in the entail. Old Kershaw will be furious
at losing his only son, and Ernest will
never be able to come back to this country
while he lives, or he will set the law on
him.'

' It is dreadful!? said Dorothy; 'just as
he was beginning life, and going into a pro-
fession, and now to have to go and wander
in that far-off country under a false name.'

' Oh, yes, it is sad enough,' said Mr.
Cardus; ' but what is done cannot beMY POOR EVA !	7

undone. He is young, and will live it
down, and if the worst comes to the worst,
must make himself a home out there. But
it is hard upon me, hard upon me,' and he
went off to his office, muttering, ' hard
upon me.'

When Florence started upon her home-
ward way, the afternoon had set in wet
and chilly, and the sea was hidden in
wreaths of grey mist. Altogether the scene
was depressing. On arrival at the Cottage
she found Eva standing the picture of
melancholy by the window, and staring out
at the misty sea.

' Oh, Florence, I am glad that you have
come home, I really began to feel inclined
to commit suicide.'

' Indeed ; and may I ask why ?'

' I don't know; the rain is so depressing,
I suppose.'

' It does not depress me.'8	THE WITCH'S HEAP.

' No, nothing ever does; you live in the
land of perpetual calm.'

' I take exercise, and keep my liver in
good order. Have you been out this
afternoon ?'

• No.'

'Ah, I thought not. No wonder you
feel depressed, staying indoors all day.
Why don't you go for a walk ?'

' There is nowhere to go to.'

' Really, Eva, I don't know what has coma
to you lately. Why don't you go along
the cliff, or, stop—have you been to the
post-office ? I called for the Dum's Ness
letters, and Mr. Brown said that there was
one for you.'

Eva jumped up with remarkable anima-
tion, and passed out of the room with her
peculiar light tread. The mention of that
word 'letter' had sufficed to change the
aspect of things considerably.MY POOR EVA !	9

Florence watched her go with a dark
little smile.

' Ah,' she said aloud as the door closed,
' your feet will soon fall heavily enough.'

Presently Eva went out, and Florence^
■ having thrown off her cloak, took her
sister's place at the window and waited.
It was seven minutes' walk to the post-
office. She would be back in about a
quarter of an hour. Watch in hand,
Florence waited patiently. Seventeen
minutes had elapsed when the garden gate
was opened, and Eva re-entered, her face
quite grey with pain, and furtively apply-
ing a handkerchief to her eyes. Florence
smiled again.

' I thought so,' she said.

From all of which it will be seen that
Florence was a very remarkable woman.
She had scarcely exaggerated when she said
that her heart was as deep as the sea. The10	the witch's head. v

love that she bore Ernest was the strongest
thing in all her strong and vigorous life;
when every other characteristic and in-
fluence crumbled away and was forgotten,
it would still remain overmastering as
ever. And when she discovered that her
high love, the greatest and best part of
her, had been made a plaything of by a
thoughtless boy, who kissed girls on the
same principle that a duck takes to water,
because it came natural to him, the love
in its mortal agonies gave birth to a hate
destined to grow great as itself. But, with
all a woman's injustice, it was not directed
towards the same object. On Ernest, in-

Eeed, she would wreak vengeance if she
ould, but she still loved him as dearly as
at first; the revenge would be a mere
episode in the history of her passion. But
to her sister, the innocent woman who, she
chose to consider, had robbed her, she gaveMY POOR EVA!	11

all that bountiful hate. Herself the more
powerful character of the two, she deter-
mined upon the utter destruction of the
weaker. Strong as Fate, and unrelenting as
Time, she dedicated her life to that end.
Everything, she said, comes to those who
can wait. She forgot that the Providence
above us can wait the longest of us all. In
the end it is Providence that wins.

Eva came in, and Florence heard her
make her way up the stairs to her room.
Again she spoke to herself.

'The poor fool will weep over him and
renounce him. If she had the courage she
would follow him and comfort him in his
trouble, and so tie him to her for ever. Oh
that I had her chance! but the chances
always come to fools.'

Then she went upstairs, and listened out-
side Eva's door. She was sobbing audibly.
Turning the handle she walked casually in.12	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' Well, Eva, did you— Why, my dear
girl, what is the matter with you ?'

Eva, who was lying sobbing on her bed,
turned her head to the wall and went on
sobbing.

' What is the matter, Eva ? If you only
knew how absurd you look !'

' No-no-thing.'

' Nonsense, people do not make such
scenes as this for nothing.'

No answer.

' Come, my dear, as your affectionate
sister, I really must ask what has' happened
to you.'

The tone was commanding, and half
unconsciously Eva obeyed it.

' Ernest!' she ejaculated.

' Well, what about Ernest ? he is nothing
to you, is he ?'

' No—that is, yes. Oh, it is so dreadful!
It was the letter,' and she touched a sheetMY POOR EVA !	13

of closely-written, paper that lay on tlie bed
beside her.

' Well, as you do not seem to be in a
condition to explain yourself, perhaps you
had better let me read the letter.'

' Oh, no.'

' Nonsense, give it me ; perhaps I may be
able to help you,' and she took the paper
from her unresisting grasp, and turning her
face from the light, read it deliberately
through.

It was very passionate in its terms, and
rather incoherent; such a letter, in short, as
a lad almost wild with love and grief would
write under the circumstances.

' So,' said Florence, as she coolly folded
it up, ' it appears that you are engaged to
him.'

No answer, unless sobs can be said to
constitute one.

And it seems that you are engaged to a14	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

man who has just committed a frightful
murder, and run away from the conse-
quences.'

Eva sat up on the bed.

' It was not a murder, it was a duel.'

' Precisely, a duel about another woman ;
but the law calls it murder. If he is caught
he will be hung.'

' Oh, Florence, how can you say such
dreadful things ?'

' I only say what is true. Poor Eva, I do
not wonder that you are distressed.'

' It is all so dreadful.'

' You love him, I suppose ?'

' Oh, yes, dearly.'

'Then you must get over it; you must
never think of him any more.'

' Never think of him ! I shall think
of him all my life.'

' That is as it may be. You must never
have anything more to do with him. HeMY POOR EVA!	15

has blood upon Ms hands, blood shed for
some bad woman.'

' I cannot desert, him, Florence, because
he has got into trouble.'

' Over another woman.'

A peculiar expression of pain passed over
Eva's face.

' How cruel you are, Florence! He is
only a boy, and boys will go wrong some-
times. Anybody can make a fool of a
boy.'

'And it seems that boys can make fools
of some people who should know better.'

' Oh, Florence, what is to be done ? You
have such a clear head; tell me what I
must do. I cannot give him,, up, I cannot
indeed.'

Florence seated herself on the bed beside
her sister, and put an arm round her neck
and kissed her. Eva was much touched at
her kindness.16	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' My poor Eva,' she said, ' I am so sorry
for you. But tell me, when, did you get
engaged to him—that evening you went out
sailing together ?'

'Yes.'

' He kissed you, I suppose, and all that ?'

' Yes. Oh, I was so happy !'

' My poor Eva!'

' I tell you I cannot give him up.'

' Well, perhaps there will be no need for
you to do so ? But you must not answer
that letter.'

' Why not ?'

' Because it will not do. Look at it
which way you will, Ernest has just killed
his own cousin in a quarrel about another
woman. It is necessary that you should
mark your disapproval of that in some way
or other. Do not answer his letter. If in
time he can wash himself clear of the
reproach, and remains faithful to you, thenMY POOR EYA !	17

it will be soon enough to show that you
still care for him.'

' But if I leave him like that he will fall
into the hands of other women, though he
loves me all the time. I know him well;
his, is not a nature that can stand alone.'

' Well, let him.'

' But, Florence, you forget I love him too.
I cannot bear to think of it. Oh, I love
him, I love him !' and she dropped her head
upon her sister's shoulder and begun to sob
again.

'My dear, it is just because you do love
him so that you should prove him ; and
besides, my dear, you have your own self-
respect to think of. Be guided by me, Eva ;
do not answer that letter; I am sure that
you .will regret it if you do. Let matters
stand for a few months, then we can arrange
£l plan of action. Above all, do not let

your engagement transpire to anybody.

VOL. II.	o18	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

There will be a dreadful scandal about this
business, and it will be most unpleasant for
you, and indeed for us all, to have our name
mixed up in the matter. Hark! there is
aunt coming in. I will go and talk to her;
you can stop here and recover yourself a
little. You will follow my advice, will you
not, dearest ?'

' I suppose so,' answered Eva, with a
heavy sigh, as she buried her face in the
pillow.

Then Florence left her.THE LOCUM TENENS.

19

CHAPTER II.

THE LOCUM TENENS.

ND so it came to pass that Ernest's

letter remained unanswered. But Mr.
Cardus, Dorothy, and Jeremy all wrote.
Mr. Cardus' letter was very kind and con-
siderate. It , expressed his deep grief at
what had happened, and told him of the
"excitement that the duel had caused, and
of the threatening letters which he had
received from Sir Hugh Kershaw, who was
half-wild with grief and fury at the loss of
his son. Finally, it commended his wisdom
in putting the seas between himself and the
avengers of blood, and told him that he20	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

should not want for money, as his drafts
would be honoured to the extent of a thou-
sand a year, should he require so much—
Mr. Cardus was very open-handed where
Ernest was concerned—also if he required
any particular sum of money for any pur-
pose, such as to buy land or start a business,
he was to let him know.

Dorothy's letter was like herself, sweet
and gentle, and overflowing with womanly
sympathy. She bade him not to be down-
hearted, but to hope for a time when all
this dreadful business would be forgotten,
and he would be able to return in peace to
England. She bade him also, shyly enough,
to remember that there Was only one power
that could really wash away the stain of
blood upon his hands. Every month,
she said, she would write him a letter,
whether he answered it or not. This
pflffifise she faithfully kept.the locum tenens.

21

Jeremy's letter was characteristic. It is
worth transcribing.

'My dear old fellow,

'Your news has knocked us all
into the middle of next week. To think of
your fighting a duel, and my not being there
to hold the sponge! And I will tell you
what it is, old chap; some of these people
round here, like that old de Talor, call it
murder, but that is gammon, and don't you
trouble your head about it. It was he who
got up the row, not you, and he tried to
shoot you into the bargain. I am awfully
glad that you kept your nerve and plugged
him ; it would have been better if you could
have nailed him through the right shoulder,
which would not have killed him ; but at
the best of times you were never good
enough with a pistol for that. Don't you
remember when we used to shoot with the
old pistols at the man I cut out on the
cliff, you were always just as likely to hit
him on the head or in the stomach as22

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

through the heart ? It is a sad pity that
you did not practise a little more, but it is
no use crying over spilt milk—and after all
the. shot seems to have been a very credit-
able one. So you are going on a shooting
expedition up in Secocoeni's country. That
is what I call glorious. To think of a
rhinoceros makes my mouth water; I
would give one of my fingers to shoot one.
Life here is simply wretched now that you
have gone—Mr. Cardus as glum as Tithe-
burgh Abbey on a cloudy day, and Doll
always looking as though she had been
crying, or were going to cry. Old Grand-
father Atterleigh is quite lively compared
to those two. As for the office, I hate it,
everlastingly copying deeds which I don't
in the slightest understand, and adding up
figures in which I make mistakes. Your
respected uncle told me the other day, in
his politest way, that he considered I sailed
as near being a complete fool as any man
he ever knew. I answered that I quite
agreed with him.'

' I met that young fellow Smithers theTHE LOCUM TENENS.

23

other day, the one who gave Eva Ceswick
that little brute of a dog. He said some-
thing disagreeable about wondering if they
would hang you. I told him that I didn't
know if they would or not, but unless he
dropped his infernal sneer I was very sure
that I would break his neck. He concluded
to move on. By the way, I met Eva Ceswick
herself, yesterday. She looked pale, and
asked if we had heard anything of you.
She said that she had got a letter from you.
Florence came up here, and spoke up well
'for you; she said that she was proud of you,
or would be if she had a right to. I never
liked her before, but now I think that she
is a brick. Good-bye, old chap ; I never
wrote such a long letter before. You don't
know how I miss you, life don't seem worth
having. .Yesterday was the first; I went
out and killed twenty brace to my own
gun.—fired forty-six cartridges. Not bad,
eh! And yet somehow I didn't seem to
care a twopenny curse about the whole
thing, though if you had been there you
would have duffed them awfully. I feel24

the witch's head.

sure you would have set my teeth on edge
with letting them off—the birds I mean.
Mind you write to me often. Good-bye, old
fellow, God bless you.

' Your affectionate friend,

'Jeremy Jones.'

'P.S. In shooting big game, a fellow told
me that the top of the flank raking forward
is a very deadly shot, as it either breaks the
back or passes through the kidneys to the
lungs or heart. I should have thought
that the shot was very apt to waste itself
in the flesh of the flank. Please try it and
itake notes of the results.'

About a fortnight after these letters,
addressed Ernest Beyton, Esq., Post Office,
Maritzburg, Natal, had been despatched,
Kesterwick and its neighbourhood was
thrown into a state of mild excitement by the
announcement that Mr. Halford, the clergy-
man, whose health had of late been noneTHE LOCUM TENENS.	25

of the best, purposed taking a year's rest,
and that the Bishop had consented to the
duties of his parish being carried on by a
locum tenens named the Reverend James
Plovvden. Mr. Halford was much liked and
Respected, and the intelligence was received
with general regret, which was, however,
tempered with curiosity as to the new-"
comer. Thus, when it became known that
Mr. Plowden was to preach in the parish
church at the evening service on the third
Sunday in September, all Kesterwick was
seized with profound religious fervour and
went to hear him.

The parish church at Kesterwick was
unusually large and beautiful, being a relic
of an age when, whatever men's lives may
have been, they spared neither their money
nor their thought in rearing up fitting
habitations to the Divinity whom they
regarded, perhaps with more of superstitious26

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

awe than true religious feeling. Standing
as it did somewhat back from the sea, it
alone had escaped the shock of the, devour-
ing waves, and remained till this day a
monument of architectural triumph. Its
tall tower, pointing like a great finger up to
heaven, looked very solemn on that quiet
September evening as the crowd of church-
goers passed beneath its shadow into the
old door-way, through which most of them
had been carried to their christening, and
would in due time be carried to their burial.
At least so thought Eva and Dorothy as they
stood for a moment by the monument to
' five unknown sailors,' washed ashore after
a great gale, and buried in a common grave.
How many suffering, erring human beings
had stood upon the same spot and thought
the same thoughts ? How many more now
sleeping in the womb of time would stand
there and think them, when these two hadTHE LOCUM TifiNENS.	27

suffered and erred their full and been long
forgotten ?

They formed a strange contrast, those
two sweet women, as they passed together
into the sacred stillness of the church—the
one stately, dark, and splendid, with an un-
restful trouble in her eyes ; the other almost
insignificant in figure, but pure and patient
of face, and with steady blue eyes which never
wavered. Did they guess, those two, as
they walked thus together, how closely their
destinies were linked ? Did they know that
each at heart was striving for the same prize,
a poor one indeed, but still all the world
to them. Perhaps they did, very vaguely,
and it was the pressure of their common
trouble that drew them closer together in
those days. But if they did they never
spoke of it; and as for little Dorothy, she
never dreamed of winning. She was content
to be allowed to toil along in the painful race.28	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

When they reached the pew that the
Ceswicks habitually occupied, they found
Miss Ceswick and Florence already there.
Jeremy had refused to come ; he had a most
unreasonable antipathy to parsons. Mr.
Halford he liked, but of this new man he
would have none. The general curiosity to
see him was to Jeremy inexplicable; his
opinion beiug that he should soon see a
great deal more of him than he liked. ' Just
like a pack of girls running after a new
doll,' he growled; ' well, there is one thing,
you will soon be tired of hearing him
squeak.'

As the service went on, the aisles of the
great church grew dim except where the
setting sun shot a crimson shaft through
the west window, which wandered from spot
to spot and face to face, and made them
glorious. When it came to the hymn before
the sermon Eva could scarcely see to read,THE LOCUM TENENS.	29

and with the exception of the crimson
pencil of sunlight that came through the
head of the Virgin Mary, and wavered
restlessly about, and the strong glow of the
lights upon the ' pulpit, the church was
almost dark.

When the new clergyman, Mr. Plowden,
ascended the steps of the ancient pulpit
and gave out his text; Eva looked at him
in common with the rest of the congregation.

O O

Mr. Plowden was a large man of a some-
what lumbering make. His head, too, was
large, and covered with masses of rather
coarse-textured black hair. The forehead
was prominent, and gave signs of intellec-
tual power ; the eyebrows thick and strongly
marked, and in curious contrast to the cold,
light-grey eyes that played unceasingly
beneath them. All the lower part of the
face, which, to judge from the purple hue of
the skin, nature had intended should be30	THE WITCH'3 HEAD.

plentifully clothed with hair, was clean
shaven, and revealed a large jaw, square
■chin, and pair of thick lips. Altogether
Mr. Plowden was considered a fine man,
and his face was generally spoken of as
' striking.' Perhaps the most curious thing
about it, however, was a species of varicose
vein on the forehead, which was generally
quite unnoticeable, but whenever he was
excited Or nervous stood out above the level
of the skin in the form of a perfect cross.
It was thus visible when Eva looked at him,
and it struck her as being an unpleasant
mark to have on one's forehead. She
turned her eyes away—the man did not
please her fastidious taste—and listened for
his voice. Presently it came ; it was power-
ful and even musical, but coarse.

' He is not a gentleman,' thought Eva to
herself, and then dismissing him and his
sermon too from her mind, she leaned backTHE LOCUM TENENS.	31

against the poppy-head at the end of the
pew, half-closed her eyes, and let her
thoughts wander in the way that thoughts
have the power to do in church. Far
across the sea they flew, to where a great
vessel labouring in a heavy gale was plough-
ing her sturdy way along — to where a
young man stood clinging to the iron
stanchions, and gazed out into the darkness
with sorrow in his eyes.

Wonderfully soft and tender grew her
beautiful face as the vision passed before
her soul; the ripe lips quivered, and there
was a world of love in the half-opened eyes.
And just then the wandering patch of glory
perceiving her, settled on her like a butterfly
upon a flower, and for a while wandered no
longer.

Suddenly she became aware of a mo-
mentary pause in the even flow of the
clergyman's eloquence, and waking from her32	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

reverie glanced up at the spot of light
surrounding him, and as she did so it struck
her that she herself was illuminated with a
more beautiful light—that he and she alone
were distinguishable out of all the people
beneath that roof.

The same thought had evidently struck
Mr. Plowden, for he was gazing intently at
her.

Instinctively she drew back into the
shadow, and Mr. Plowden went on with
his sermon. But he had driven away poor
Eva's vision ; there only remained of it the
sad reproachful look of those dark eyes.

Outside the church Dorothy found Jeremy
waiting to escort her home. They all
went together as far as the Cottage. When
they got clear of the crowd, Florence
spoke :

' What a good-looking man Mr. Plowden
is, and how well he preached !'THE LOCUM TENENS.	33

' I did not like him much,' said Dorothy.

' What do you think of him, Eva ?' asked
Florence.

' I! t Oh I do not know. I do not think
he is a gentleman.'

' I am sure that he is not,' put in Jeremy.
' I saw him by the Post-Office this afternoon.
He is a cad.'

' Eather a sweeping remark, that, is it
not, Mr. Jones 1' said Florence.

' I don't know if it is sweeping or not,'
answered Jeremy sententiously, 'but I am
sure that it is true.'

Then they said good night, and went their
separate ways.

VOL. II.

D34

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

CHAPTER III.

EVA TAKES A DISTRICT.

rpHE Reverend James Plowden was born
of rich but honest parents in the sugar-
broking way. He was one of a large family,
who were objects of anxious thought to Mr.
and Mrs. Plowden. These worthy people,
aware of the disadvantages under which
they laboured in the matter of education,
determined that neither trouble nor money
should be spared to make their children
' genteel.' And so it came to pass that the
' mansion' near Bloom sbury was overrun with
the most expensive nurses, milliners, govern-
esses, and tutors, all straining every nerve
to secure the perfect gentility of the youngEVA TAKES A DISTRICT,	35

Plowdens. The result was highly orna-
mental, but perhaps scarcely equivalent
to the vast expense incurred. The Plowden
youth of both sexes may be said to have
been painted, and varnished, and gilded
into an admirable imitation of gentle-folks,
but if the lacquer-work would stand the
bufferings of the world's weather was another
question, and one which, except in so far as
it has to do with a single member of the
family, does not concern us.

i Master James Plowden came about half-
way down the family list, but he might just
as well have stood at the head of it, for
he ruled his brothers and sisters, old and
young, with a heavy rod. He was the
strong one of the family, strong both in
mind and body, and he had a hand of iron.

For his misdeeds were his brothers

thrashed, preferring to take those ills they

knew of from the hands of the thrasher,

D %36

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

rather than endure the unimagined horrors
brother James would make ready for them
should they venture to protest.

Thus it was that he came to be considered
par excellence the good boy of the family,
as he was certainly the clever one, and bore
every sort of blushing honour thick upon
him.

It was to an occurrence in his boyhood
that Mr. Plowden owed his parents' deter-
mination to send him into the Church.
His future career had always been a matter
of much speculation to them, for they be-
longed to that class of people who love
to arrange their infants' destinies when the
infants themselves are still in the cradle,
and argue their fitness for certain lines of
life from remarks which they make at three
years old.

Now James's mamma had a very favourite
parrot, with a red tail, and out of this tailEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	37

it was James's delight to pnll the feathers,
having discovered that so doing gave the
parrot a lively twinge of pain. The onus
of the feather-pulling was then, if discovered,
shouldered on to a chosen brother, who was
promptly thrashed.

But on one occasion things went wronsj

O	O

with Master James. The parrot was climb-
ing up the outside of his cage, presenting
the remainder of his tail to the hand of the
spoiler in a way that was irresistibly seduc-
tive. But aware of the fact that his enemy
was in the neighbourhood, he kept a careful
look-out from the corner of his eye, and the
moment that >he saw James's stealthy hand
draw near his tail, made a sudden dart at
it, and actually succeeded in making his
powerful beak meet through its forefinger.
James shrieked with pain and fury, and
shaking the bird on to the floor stunned it
with a book. But he was not satisfied with38	the witch's head.

this revenge, for as soon as he saw that
it could no longer bite, he seized it and
twisted its neck.

' There, you devil!' he said, throwing
the creature into the cage. ' Hullo, some-
thing has burst in my forehead !'

4 Oh, James, what have you done !' said
his little brother Montague, well knowing
that he had a lively personal interest in
James's misdoings.

' Nonsense! what have you done ? Now
remember, Montague, you killed the parrot.'

Just then Mr. and Mrs. Plowden came
in from a drive, and a very lively scene
ensued, into which we need not enter.
Suffice it to say, that all evidence to the
contrary notwithstanding, James was ac-
quitted on the ground of general good

character, and Montague, howling and pro-

)

testing his innocence, was led off to execu-
tion. Justly fearful lest something furtherEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	39

should transpire, James was hurriedly
leaving the room, when his mother called
him back.

' Why, what is that on your forehead ?'

' Don't know,' answered James; ' some-
thing went snap there j ust now.'

' Well I never! Just look at the boy,
John, he has got a cross upon his forehead.'

Mr. Plowden papa examined the pheno-
menon very carefully, and then, solemnly
removing his spectacles, remarked with
much deliberation:

' Elizabeth, that settles the point.'

' What point, John ?'

' What point! Why the point of the
boy's profession. It is, as you remark, a
cross upon his forehead. Good !—he shall go.
into the Church. Now I must decline to
be argued with, Elizabeth. The matter is
settled.'

And so in due course James Plowden,40	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

^ Esq., went to Cambridge, and became the
Reverend James Plowden.

\

Shortly after the Reverend James had
started in life as a curate he found it con-
venient-—having first succeeded in beguiling
his parents into settling on himself a portion
just twice as large as that to which he was
entitled—to cut off his connection with a
family he considered vulgar, and a drag
upon his professional success. Rut some-
how, with all his gifts, and undoubtedly he
was by nature well endowed, especially as
regards his mind, that was remarkable for
a species of hard cleverness and persuasive
power; and with all the advantages which
he derived from being in receipt of an
independent income, the Reverend James
had not hitherto proved a conspicuous
success. He had held several important
curacies, and of late had acted as the locum
tenens of several gentlemen who, like Mr.EVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	41

Halford, had through loss of health or other
reasons been called away from their livings
for a length of time.

But from all these places the Reverend
James had departed without regret, nor had
there been any very universal lamentations
over his going. The fact of the matter was
that the Reverend James was not a popular
man. He had ability in plenty, and money
in plenty, and would expend both without
stint if he had an end to gain. He was
more or less of a good companion, too, in
the ordinary sense of the word; that is, he
could make himself agreeable in a rough,
exaggerated kind of way to both men and
women. Indeed by the former he was
often spoken of carelessly as a ' good
fellow;' but women, or rather ladies, fol-
lowing their finer instincts, disliked him ,
intensely. He jarred upon them.

Of course it is impossible to lay down42	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

any fixed rule about men, but there are two
tokens by which they may be known. The
first is by their friends ; the second by the
degree of friendship and affection to which
they are admitted by women. . The man to
whom members of the other sex attach
themselves is in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred a good fellow, and women's instinct
tells them so, or they would not love him.
It may be urged that women often love
blackguards. To this the answer is that
there must be a good deal of good mixed
up with the blackguardism. Show me the
man whom two or three women of his own
rank love with all their honest hearts, and
I will trust all I have into his hands and
not be a penny the poorer.

But women did not love the Reverend
James Plowden, although he had for several
years come to the conclusion that it was
desirable that they should, or rather thatEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	43

one of them should. In plain language,
he had for some years past thought that
he would improve his position by getting
married. He was a shrewd man, and he
could not disguise from himself the fact
that so far he was not altogether a success.
He had tried his best, but, with all his
considerable advantages, he had failed.
There was only one avenue to success which
he had not tried, and that was marriage.
Marriage with a woman of high caste, quick
intellect, and beauty, might give him the
tone that his social system so sadly needed.
He was a man in a good position, he had
money, he had intelligence of a robust if of
a coarse order, he had fairly good looks,
and he was only thirty-five ; why should he
not marry blood, brains, and beauty, and
shine with a reflected splendour ?

Such were the thoughts which were
simmering in the astute brain of the44	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

Reverend James Plowden when lie first set
eyes upon Eva Ceswick in the old church
at Kesterwick.

Within a week or so of his arrival, Mr.
Plowden, in his character of spiritual ad-
viser to the motley Kesterwick flock, paid
a ceremonious call on the Miss Ceswicks.
They were all at home.

Miss Ceswick and Florence welcomed
him graciously; Eva politely, but with an
air which said plainly that he interested
her not at all. Yet it was to Eva that he
chiefly directed himself. He took this
opportunity to inform them all, especially
Eva, that he felt the responsibilities of his
position as locum tenens to weigh heavily
upon him. He appealed to them all, espe-
cially Eva, to help him to bear his load.
He was going to institute a new system of
district visiting. Would they all, especially
Eva, assist him ? If they would, the goodEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	45

work was already half done. There was so
much 'for young ladies to do. He could
assure them, from his personal experience,
that one visit from a young lady, however
useless she might be in a general way,
which his instinct assured him these par-
ticular young ladies before him were not,
had more influence with a distressed and
godless family than six from well-meaning
but unsympathetic clergymen like himself.
Might he rely on their help ?

' I am afraid that I am too old for that
sort of thing, Mr. Plowden,' answered Miss
Ceswick. ' You must see what you can do
with my nieces.'

' I am sure that I shall be delighted to
help,' said Florence, ' if Eva will bear me
company. I always feel a shyness about
intruding myself into cottages unsupported.'

' Your shyness is not surprising, Miss
Ceswick. I suffered from it myself for many46	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

years, but at last I have, I am thankful to
say, got the better of it. But I am sure
that we shall not appeal to your sister
' in vain.'

' I shall be glad to help if you think that
I can do any good,' put in Eva thus directly
appealed to ; ' but I must tell you I have no
great faith in myself.'

'Do the work, Miss Ceswick, and the
faith will come; sow the seed and the tree
will spring up, and bear fruit too in due
season.'

There was no reply, so he continued :
' Then I have your permission to put you
down for a district.'

' Oh yes, Mr. Plowden,' answered Florence.
' Will you take some more tea ?'

Mr. Plowden would take no more tea,
but went on his way to finish the day's
work he had mapped out for himself—for
he worked hard and according to a strictEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	47

rule—reflecting that Eva Ceswick was the
loveliest woman he had ever seen.

' I think that we must congratulate you on
a conquest, Eva,' said Miss Ceswick cheer-
fully as the front-door closed. ' Mr.
Plowden never took his eyes off you, and
really, my dear, I do not wonder at it, you
look charming.'

Eva flushed up angrily.

' Nonsense, aunt,' she said, and left the
room.

' Really,' said Miss Ceswick, ' I don't
know what has come to Eva lately, she is
so very strange.'

' I expect that you touched her on a sore
point. I rather fancy that she has taken
a liking to Mr. Plowden,' said Florence
drily.

' Oh indeed,' answered the old lady,
nodding her head wisely.

In due course a district was assigned to48	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

the two Miss Ceswicks, and for her part
Eva was glad of the occupation. It brought
her a good deal into contact with Mr.
Plowden, which was not altogether pleasant
to her, for she cherished a vague dislike of
the clergyman, and did not admire his
shifty eyes. But as she got to know him
better, she could find nothing to justify her
dislike. He was not, it is true, quite a
gentleman, but that was his misfortune.
His manner to herself was subdued and
almost deferential; he never obtruded him-
self upon her society, though somehow he
was in it almost daily. Indeed, he even
succeeded in raising her to some enthusiasm
about her work, a quality in which poor
Eva had of late been sadly lacking. She
thought him a very good clergyman, with
his heart in his duty. But she disliked him
all the same.

Eva never answered Ernest's letter. OnceEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	49

she began an answer, but bethought her of
Florence's sage advice, and changed her
mind. 'He will write again,' she said to
herself. She did not know Ernest; his was
not a nature to humble himself before a
woman. Could she have seen her lover
hanging about the steps of the Maritzburg
Post-Office when the English mail was
being delivered, in order to go back to the
window when the people had dispersed, and
ask the tired clerk if he was ' sure' that there
were no more letters for Ernest Beyton, and
get severely snubbed for his pains, perhaps
her heart would have relented. And yet
it was a performance which poor Ernest
went through-once a week out there in Natal.

One mail day Mr. Alston went with
him.

' Well, Ernest, has it come ?' he asked, as
he came down the steps, a letter from
Dorothy in his hand.

VOL. II.	E50

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' No, Alston, and never will. She has
thrown me over.'

Mr. Alston took his arm, and walked
away with him across the market-square.

' Look here, my lad,' he said; ' the woman
who deserts a man in trouble, or as soon as
his back is turned, is worthless. It is a
sharp lesson to learn, but as most men have
cause to know, the world is full of sharp
lessons and worthless women. You know
that she got your letter.'

'Yes, she told my friend so.'

' Then I tell you that your Eva, or what-
ever her name is, is more worthless than
most of them. She has been tried and
found wanting. Look,' he went on, pointing
to a shapely Kafir girl passing with a pot of
native beer upon her head, ' you had better
take that Intombi to wife than such a
woman as this Eva. She at any rate would
stand by you in trouble, and if you fellEVA TAKES A DISTRICT.	51

would stop to be killed over your dead
body. Come, be a man, and have done
with her.'

' Ay, by heaven, I will,' answered Ernest.

'That's right. And now, look here, the
waggoiis will be at Lydenburg in a week.
Let us take the post-cart to-morrow and
go up. Then we can have a month's wilder-
beeste and koodoo shooting until it is safe
to go into the fever country. Once you get
among the big game, you won't think any
more about that woman. Women are all
very well in their way, but if it comes
to choosing between them and big game
shooting, give me the big game.

E 252

the witch's head.

CHAPTER IV.

jeeemy's idea op a shaking.

rnWO months or so after Ernest's flight
-®- there came a letter from him to Mr.
Cardus in answer to the one sent by his
uncle. He thanked his uncle warmly for
his kindness, and more especially for not
joining in the hue and cry against him.
As regards money, he hoped to be able to
make a living for himself, but if he wanted
any he would draw. The letter, which was
short, ended thus:

' Thank Doll and Jeremy for their letters.
I would answer them, but I am too down on
my luck to write much ; writing stirs up so
many painful memories, and makes me
think of all the dear folks at home morejeeemy's idea, of a shaking. 53

than is 'good for me. The fact is, my dear
uncle, what between one thing and another
I never was so miserable in my life, and as
for loneliness, I never knew what it meant
before. Sometimes I wish that my cousin
had hit me instead of my hitting him, and
that I was dead and buried, clean out of
the way. Alston, who was my second in
that unhappy affair, and with whom I am
going up country shooting, has been most
kind to me, and has introduced me to a
good many people here. They are very
hospitable; everybody is hospitable in a
colony; but somehow a hundred new faces
cannot make up for one old one, and I
should think old Atterleigh a cheerful com-
panion beside the best of them. What is
more, I feel myself an impostor intruding
myself on them under an assumed name.
Good-bye, my dear uncle. It would be
difficult for me to explain how grateful I
am for your goodness to me. Love to dear
Doll and Jeremy.

' Ever your affectionate nephew, ■

<e. k;54	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

All the party at Dum's Ness were much
touched by this letter, more especially
Dorothy, who could not bear to think of
Ernest all alone out there in that strange
far-off land. Her tender little heart grew
all alive with love and sorrow as she lay
awake at night and thought of him travel-
ling over the great African plains. She
got all the books that were to be had about
South Africa, and read them, so that she
might be the better able to follow his life
in her thoughts. One day when Florence
came to see her, she read her part of
Ernest's letter, and when she had finished
was astonished to see a tear in her visitor's
keen eyes. She liked Florence the better
for that tear. Could she have seen the
conflict that was raging in the fierbe heart
of the woman before her, she would have
started from her as thouerh she had been
a poisonous snake. The letter touchedjekemy's idea of a shaking. 55

Florence—touched her to the quick. The
tale of Ernest's loneliness almost overcame
her resolution, for she alone knew why he
was so utterly lonely, and what it was that
crushed him. Had Ernest alone been con-
cerned, it is probable that she would then
and. there have thrown up her cruel game;
but he was not alone concerned. There
was her sister who had robbed, her of her
lover—her sister whose loveliness was a
standing affront to her, as her sweetness
was a standing reproach. She was sorry for
Ernest, and would have been glad to make
him happier, but as that could, only be done
by foregoing her revenge upon her sister,
Ernest must continue to suffer. And after
all why should he not suffer ? she argued.
Did. not she suffer ?

t?, : When Florence got home she told Eva
aljput the letter from her lover, but she said
Jpbthing of his evident distress. He was56

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

making friends, he expected great pleasure
from his shooting—altogether he was getting
on well.

Eva listened, hardened her heart, and
went out district visiting with Mr. Plowden.

Time went on, and no letters came from
Ernest. One month, two months, six
months passed, and there was no intelli-
gence of him. Dorothy grew very anxious
and so did Mr. Cardus, but they did not
speak of the matter much, except to remark
that the reason no doubt was that he was
away on his shooting excursion.

Jeremy, also, in his slow way grew
intensely preoccupied with the fact that
they never heard from Ernest now, and
that life was consequently a blank. He sat
upon the stool in his uncle's outer office,
and made pretence to copy deeds and
drafts, but in reality occupied his time in
assiduously polishing his nails and thinking.jekemy's idea of a shaking. 57

As for the deeds and drafts, he gave them
to his grandfather to copy.

'It kept the old gentleman employed,'
he would explain to Dorothy, 'and from
indulging in bad thoughts about the devil.'

But it was one night out duck-shooting
that his great inspiration came. It was a
bitter night, a night on which no sane
creature except Jeremy would ever have
dreamt of going to shoot ducks or anything
else. The marshes were partially frozen,
and a fierce east wind was blowing across
them, but utterly regardless of the cold,
there sat Jeremy under the lee of a dyke-
bank, listening for the sound of the ducks'
wings as they passed to their feeding-
grounds, and occasionally getting a shot
at them as they crossed the moon above
him. There were not many ducks, and the
solitude and silence were inductive of con-
templation. Ernest did not write. Was58	the witch's head.

he dead ? Not probable, or they would have
heard of it. Where was he then ? Im-
possible to say, impossible to discover.
Was it impossible? ' Swish, swish, bang I'
and down came a mallard at his feet. A
quick shot, that! Yes, it was impossible;
they had no means of inquiry here. The
inquiry, if any, must be made there, on the
other side of the water: but who was to
make it ? Ah ! an idea struck him. Why
should not he, Jeremy, make that inquiry ?
Why should he not go to South Africa and
look for Ernest ; A flight of duck passed
over his head unheeded. What did he care
for duck ? He had solved the problem which
had been troubling him all these months.
He would go to South Africa and look for
Ernest. If Mr. Cardus would not give him
the money he would work his way out.
Anyhow he would go. He could bear the
suspense no longer.jbremy's idea of a shaking. 59

Jeremy rose in the new-found strength
of his purpose, and gathering up the slain
—there were only three—whistled to his
retriever, and made his way back to Dum's
Ness.

He found Mr. Cardus and Dorothy
by the fire in the sitting-room. Hard-
riding Atterleigh was there too, in his
place in the ingle-nook, a riding-whip in
his ink-stained hand, with which he was
tapping his top boot. They turned as he
entered, except his grandfather, who did
not hear him.

' What sport have you had, Jeremy ?'
asked his sister with a sad little smile.! Her
face had grown very sad of late. j

' Three ducks,' he answered shortly, ad-
vancing his powerful form out of the
shadows into the fire-light. ' I came home
just as they were beginning to fly.'

' You found it cold, I suppose/ said Mr.60	THE WITCH'S HEAD. .

Cardus absently. They had been talking of
Ernest, and he was still thinking of him.

' No, I did n'ot think of the cold. I came
home because I had an idea.'

Both his hearers looked up surprised.
Ideas were not very common to Jeremy, or
if they were he kept them to himself. *
'Well, Jeremy,' said Dorothy inquiringly.
'Well, it is this. I cannot stand this
about Ernest any longer, and I am going
to look for him. If you won't give me the
money,' he went on, addressing Mr. Cardus
almost fiercely, ' I will work my way out.
It is no credit to me,' he added; ' I lead a
;%og's life whilst I don't know where he is.'
^Dorothy flushed a pale pink with plea-
sure. Rising, she went up to her great
strong brother, and standing on tip-toe
managed to kiss him on the chin.

' That is like you, Jeremy dear,' she said
softly.jeremy's idea of a shaking. 61

Mr. Cardus looked up too, and after his
fashion let his eyes wander round Jeremy
before he spoke.

'You shall have as much money as you
like, Jeremy,' he said presently, ' and if you
bring Ernest back safe, I will leave you
twenty thousand pounds'—and he struck his
hand down upon his knee, an evidence of
excitement which it was unusual for him to
display.

' I don't want your twenty thousand
pounds, I want Ernest,' answered the
young man gruffly.

' No. I know you don't, my lad; I know
you don't. But find him and keep him
safe, and you shall have it. Money is not
to be sneezed at let me tell you. I say
keep him, for I forgot you cannot bring him
back till this accursed business has blown
over. When will you go ?'

' By the next mail, of course. They leave62	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

every Friday; I will not waste a day. To-
day is Saturday, I will sail next Friday.'

' That is right, you shall go at once. I
will give you a cheque for £500 to-morrow,
and mind, Jeremy, you are not to spare
money. If he has gone to the Zambesi,
you must follow him. Never think of the
money, I will think of that.'

Jeremy soon made his preparations. They
consisted chiefly of rifles. He was to leave
Dum's Ness early on the Thursday. On
the Wednesday afternoon it occurred to
him that he might as well tell Eva Ceswick
that he was going in search of Ernest, and
ask if she had any message. Jeremy was
the only person, or thought that he was the
only person, fn the secret of Ernest's affec-
tion for Eva. Ernest had asked him to
keep it secret, and he had kept it as secret
as the dead, never breathing a word of it,
even to his sister.jeremy's idea of a shaking. 63

It was about five o'clock on a windy
March afternoon when he set out for the
Cottage. On the edge of the hamlet of
Kesterwick, some three hundred yards
from the cliff, stood two or three little
hovels, turning their naked faces to the
full fury of the sea blast. He was drawing
near 'to these when he came to a stile
which gave passage over a sod wall that
ran to the edge of the cliff, marking the
limits of the village common. As he ap-
proached the stile the wind brought him
the sound of voices—a man's and a woman's,
engaged apparently in angry dispute on the
further side of the wall. Instead of getting
over the stile he. stepped to the right and
looked over the wall, and saw the new
clergyman, Mr. Plowden, standing with his
back towards him, and, apparently very
much against her will, holding Eva Ceswick
by the hand. Jeremy was too far off to64	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

overhear his words, but from his voice it
was clear that Plowden was talking in an
excited, masterful tone. Just then Eva
turned her head a little, and he did hear
what she said, her voice being so much
clearer.

' No, Mr. Plowden, no. Let go my hand.
Ah, why will you not take an answer ?'

Just at that moment she succeeded in
wrenching her imprisoned hand from his
strong grasp, and without waiting for any
more words, set off towards Kesterwick
almost at a run.

Jeremy was a man of slow mind, though
when once his mind was made up it was
of a singularly determined nature. At first
he did not quite take in the full significance
of the scene, but when he did a great red
flush spread over his honest face, and the
big grey eyes sparkled dangerously. Pre-
sently Mr. Plowden turned and saw him.jeremy's idea op a shaking. 65

Jeremy noticed that the ' sign of the cross'
was remarkably visible on his forehead, and
that his face wore an expression by no
means pleasant to behold—anything but
Christian in short.

'Hullo!' he said to Jeremy, 'what are
you doing there ?'

Before answering, Jeremy put his hand
on the top of the sod wall, and vaulting
over walked straight up to the clergy-
man.

' I was watching you,' he said, looking
him straight in the eyes.

' Indeed !—an honourable employment;
eavesdropping I think it is generally called.'

Whatever , had passed between Mr. Plow-
den and Eva Ceswick, it had clearly not
improved the former's temper.

' What do you mean ?'

' I mean what I say.'

' Well, Mr. Plowden, I may as well tell

vol. ii.	p66	THE WITCH'S HEAP.

you what I mean; I am not good at talking,
but, I know that I shall be able to make
you understand. I saw you just now
assaulting Miss Ceswick.'

' It is a lie.'

' That is not a gentlemanlike word, Mr.
Plowden, but as you are not a gentleman
I will overlook it.' Jeremy, after the
dangerous fashion of the Anglo-Saxon race,
always got wonderfully cool as a row
thickened. ' I repeat that I saw you hold-
ing her notwithstanding her struggles to
get away.'

' And what is that to you, confound you,'
said Mr. Plowden, shaking with fury, and
raising a thick stick he held in his hand
in a suggestive manner.

' Don't lose your temper and you shall
hear. Miss Eva Ceswick is engaged to my
friend Ernest Kershaw or something very
like it, and as he is not here to look afterjeeemy's idea op a shaking. 67

his own interests, I must look after them
for him.'

' Ah, yes,' answered Mr. Plowden with a
ghastly smile, ' I have heard of that. The
murderer you mean.'

' I recommend you, Mr. Plowden, in your
own interest, to he a little more careful in
your terms.'

' And supposing that there has been
something between your—your friend.'

' Much better term, Mr. Plowden.'

' And, Miss Eva Ceswick, what, I should
like to know, is there to prevent her having
changed her mind 1'

Jeremy laughed aloud, it must be ad-
mitted rather insolently, and in a way
calculated to irritate people of meeker mind
than Mr. Plowden.

' To any one, Mr. Plowden, who has the
privilege of your acquaintance, and who
also knows Ernest Kershaw, your question

F %68	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

would seem absurd. You see, there
are some people between whom there
can be no comparison. It is not possible
that after caring for Ernest any woman
could care for you;' and Jeremy laughed
again.

Mr. Plowden's thick lips turned quite
pale, the veinous cross upon his forehead
throbbed till Jeremy thought that it would
burst, and his eyes shone with the concen-
trated light of hate. His vanity was his
weakest point. He controlled himself with
an effort, however, though if there had been
any deadly weapon at hand it might have
gone hard with Jeremy.

'Perhaps you will explain the meaning
of your interference and your insolence,
and let me go on.'

' Oh, with pleasure,' answered Jeremy,
with refreshing cheerfulness. ' It is just
this, if I catch you at any such tricksJeremy's idea of a shaking. 69

again, you shall suffer for it. One can't
thrash a clergyman, and one can't fight
him because he won't fight; but look here,
one can shake him, for that leaves no marks,
and if you go on with these games, so sure
as my name is Jeremy Jones, I will shake

your teeth down your throat. Good night;'

\

and Jeremy turned to go.

It is not wise to turn one's back upon
an infuriated animal, and at that moment
Mr. Plowden was nothing more. Even as
he turned Jeremy remembered this and
gave himself a slue to one side. It was
fortunate for him that he did so, for at that
moment Mr. Plowden's heavy blackthorn
stick, directed downwards with all the
strength of Mr. Plowden's powerful arm,
passed within a few inches of his head,
out of which, had he not turned, it would
have probably knocked the brains. As it
was it struck the ground with such force70	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

that the jar sent it flying out of its owner's
hand.

' Ah, you would,' was Jeremy's reflection
as he sprang at his assailant.

Now Mr. Plowden was,a very powerful
man, but he was no match for Jeremy, who
in after days came to be known as the
strongest man in the East of England, and
so he was destined to find out. Once
Jeremy got a grip of him, for his respect
for the Church prevented him from trying
to knock him down, he seemed to crumple
up like a piece of paper in his iron grasp.
Jeremy could easily have thrown him, but
he would not, he had his'own ends in view.
So he just held him tight enough to prevent
his doing him (Jeremy) any serious injury,
and let him struggle frantically till he
thought he was sufficiently exhausted for
his purpose. Then he suddenly gave him
a violent twist, got behind him, and set tojeremy's idea op a shaking, 71

work with a will to fulfil his promise of a
shaking. Oh, what a shake that was!
First of all he shook him backwards and
forwards for Ernest's sake, then he alter-
nated the motion and shook him from
side to side for his own sake, and finally
he shook him every possible way for the
sake of Eva Ceswick.

It was a wonderful sight to see the great
burly clergyman, his hat off, his white tie
undone, and his coat-tails waving like
streamers, bounding and gambolling on the
breezy cliffs, his head, legs, and arms jerk-
ing in every possible direction, like those of
a galvanised frog, while behind him, his
legs slightly apart to get a better grip of
the ground, and his teeth firmly clenched,
Jeremy shook away with the fixity of fate.

At last, getting exhausted, he stopped,
and. holding Mr. Plowden still, gave him a
drop-kick—only one. But Jeremy's leg was72	the witch's head.

very strong, and he always wore thick
boots, and the result was startling. Mr.
Plowden rose some inches off the ground
and went on his face into a furze-bush.

' He will hardly like to show that honour-
able wound,' reflected Jeremy, as he wiped
the perspiration from his brow with every
sign of satisfaction.

Then he went and picked his fallen
enemy out of the bush, where he had
nearly fainted, smoothed his clothes, tied
the white tie as neatly as he could, and
put the wide hat on the dishevelled hair.
Then he sat him down on the ground to
recover himself.

' Good night, Mr. Plowden, good night.
Next time you wish to hit a man with a big
stick do not wait till his back is turned.
Ah, I dare say your head aches. I should
advise you to go home and have a nice
sleep.'Jeremy's idea of a shaking. 73

And Jeremy departed on bis way, filled
with a fearful joy.

When he reached the Cottage he found
everything in a state of confusion. Miss
Ceswick had, it appeared, been suddenly
taken very seriously ill, indeed it was
feared that she had got a stroke of apoplexy.
He managed, however, to send up a mes-
sage to Eva to say that he wished to speak
to her for a minute. Presently she came
down, crying.

' Oh, my poor aunt is so dreadfully ill,'
she said. ' We think that she is dying.'

Jeremy offered some awkward condol-
ences, and indeed was much distressed.
He liked old Miss Ceswick.

' I am going to South Africa to-morrow,
Miss Eva,' he said.

She started violently, and blushed up to
her hair.

' Going to South Africa ! What for 1'74	the witch's head.

' I am going to look for Ernest. We are
afraid that something must have happened
to him.'

' Oh, don't say that,' she said. ' Perhaps
he has — amusements which prevent his
writing.'

' I may as well tell you that I saw some-
thing of what passed between you and Mr.
Plowden.'

Again Eva blushed.

' Mr. Plowden was very rude,' she said. .

' So I thought; but I think that he is
sorry for it now.'

' "What do you mean ?'

' I mean that I nearly shook his ugly
head off for him.'

' Oh, how could you ?' Eva asked se-
verely ; but there was no severity on her
face.

Just then Florence's voice was heard
calling imperatively.Jeremy's idea of a shaking. 75

' I must go,' said Eva.

' Have you any message for Ernest if I
find him 1'

Eva hesitated.

'I know all about it,' said Jeremy, con-
siderately turning Ms head.

' Oh, no, I have no message—that is—
oh, tell him that I love him dearly!' and she
turned and fled up-stairs.THE WITCH'S HEAD.

CHAPTER V.

FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.

"jl fl~ISS CESWICK'S seizure turned out
to be even worse than was antici-
pated Once she appeared to regain con-
sciousness, and began to mutter something,
then she sunk back into a torpor out of
which she never woke again.

, It was fortunate that her condition was
not such as to require the services of the
clergyman, for Mr. Plowden was for some
days after the events described in the last
chapter not in any condition to givp them.
Whether it was the shaking, or the well-
planted kick, or the shock to his system, it
is impossible to say, but he was in the»'	I	!

FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	77

upshot constrained to keep his bed for
several days. Indeed the first service that
he took was on the occasion of the opening
of the ancient Ceswick vault to receive the
remains of the recently deceased lady. The
only territorial possession which remained to
the Ceswicks was their vault. Indeed, as
Florence afterwards remarked to her sister,
there was a certain irony in the reflection
that of all their wide acres there remained
only the few square feet of soil, which for
centuries had covered the bones of the race.

When their aunt was dead and buried, the
two girls went back to the Cottage, and were
very desolate. They had both of them
loved the old lady in their separate ways,
more especially Florence, both because she
possessed the deeper nature of the two and
because she had lived the longest with her.

But the grief of youth at the departure of
age is not inconsolable, and after a month78	the witch's head.

or so they had conquered the worst of their
sorrow. Then it was that the question what
they were to do came prominently to the
fore. Such little property as their aunt had
possessed was equally divided between them,
and the cottage left to their joint use.
This gave them enough to live on in their
quiet way, but it undoubtedly left them in
a very lonely and unprotected position.
Such as it was, however, they, or rather
Florence, for she managed all the business,
decided to make the best of it. At Kester-
wick they were, at any rate, known, and it
was, they felt, better to stay there than to
float away and become waifs and strays on
the great sea of English life. So they settled
to stay.

Florence had moreover her own reasons
for staying. She had come to the conclusion
that it would be desirable that her sister
Eva should marry Mr. Plowden. Not thatFLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	79

she liked Mr. Plowden—her lady's instincts
rose up in rebellion against the man—but if
Eva did not marry him, it was probable
that she would in the long run marry
Ernest, and Ernest, Florence swore, she
should not marry. To prevent such a
marriage was the main purpose of her life.
Her jealousy and hatred of her sister had
become a part of herself; the gratification of
her revenge was the evil star by which she
shaped her course. It may seem a terrible
thing that so young a woman could give
the best energies of her life to such a
purpose, but it was none the less the
truth.

Hers was a wild, strange nature, a nature
capable of violent love and violent hate ;
the same pendulum could swing with equal
ease to each extreme. Eva had robbed her
of her lover, she would rob Eva, and put
the prize out of her reach too. Little she80	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

recked of the wickedness of her design, for
where in the long record of human crime
is there a wickedness to surpass the de-
liberate separation, for no good reason, of
two people who love each other with all
their hearts ? Surely there is none. She
knew this, but she did not hesitate on that
account. She was not hypocritical. She
made 110 excuses to herself. She knew
well -that on every ground it was best that
Eva should marry Ernest, and pursue her
natural destiny, happy in his love and in
her own. But she would have none of it.
If once they should meet again the game
would pass out of her hands, for the weakest
woman grows strong of purpose when she
has her lover's arm to lean on. Florence
realised this, and determined that they
should never set eyes on each other until
an impassable barrier in the shape of Mr.
Plowden had been raised between the two.FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	81

Having thus finally determined on the
sacrifice, she set about whetting the knife.

One day, a month or so after Miss Ceswick
was buried, Mr. Plowden called at the
Cottage on some of the endless details of
which district visiting was the parent. He
had hardly seen Eva since that never-to-be-
forgotten day, when he had learnt what
Jeremy's ideas of a shaking were, for the
very good reason that she had carefully
kept out of his way.

So it came to pass that when, looking out
of the window on the afternoon in question,
she saw the crown of a clerical hat coming
along the road, Eva promptly gathered up
her work and commenced a hasty retreat to
her bedroom.

'Where are you going to, Eva?' asked
her sister.

' Upstairs—here he comes.'

' He, who is " he " ?'

VOL. II.	G82	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' Mr. Plowden, of course.'

' And why should you run away because
Mr. Plowden is coming ?'

' I do not like Mi\ Plowden.'

£ Really, Eva, you are too bad. You know
what a friendless position we are in just
now, and you go and get up a dislike to one
of the few men we know. It is very selfish
of you, and most unreasonable,.'

At that moment the front door bell rung,
and Eva fled.

Mr. Plowden on entering looked round
the room with a somewhat disappointed
air.

'If you are looking for my sister,' said
Florence, ' she is not very well.' -

' Indeed I am afraid that her health i s
not good; she is so often indisposed.'

Florence smiled, and they dropped into
the district visiting. Presently, however,
Florence dropped out again.FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	83

' By the way, Mr. Plowden, I want to tell
you of something I heard the other day, and
which concerns you. Indeed I think that
- it is only right that I should do so. I heard
that you were seen talking to my sister, not
very far from the Titheburgh Abbey cottages,
and that she—she ran away from you. Then
Mr. Jones jumped over the wall, and also
began to talk with you. Presently he also
turned, and, so said my informant, you
struck at him with a heavy stick, but missed
him. Thereupon a tussle ensued, and you
got the worst of it.'

'He irritated me beyond all endurance,'
broke in Mr. Plowden excitedly.

' Oh, then the story is true ? '

Mr. Plowden saw that he had made a
fatal mistake, but it was too late to deny it.

'To a certain extent,' he said sulkily.
' That young ruffian told me that I was not
a gentleman.'

G 284	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' Really ! Of course that was unpleasant.
But how glad you must feel that you missed
him, especially as his back was turned !
It would have looked so bad for a clergyman
to be had up for assault, or worse, wouldn't
it?'

Mr. Plowden turned pale and bit his lip.
He began to feel that he was in the power
of this quiet, dignified young woman, and
the feeling was not pleasant.

' And it would not look very well if the
story got round here, would it ? I mean
even if it was not known that you hit at
him with the stick when he was not looking,
because, you see, it would sound so absurd.
The idea of a clergyman more than six feet
high being shaken like a naughty child ! I
suppose that Mr. Jones is very strong.'

Mr. Plowden winced beneath her mockery,
and rising, seized his hat, but she motioned
him back to his chair.FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	85

' Don't go yet,' she said. ' I wanted to
tell you that you ought to be much obliged
to me for thinking of all this for you. I
thought that it would be painful to you
to have the story all over the country-side,
so I nipped it in the bud.'

Mr. Plowden groaned in spirit. If these
■ were the results of a story nipped in the
bud, what would its uninjured bloom be
like ?

' Who told you ?' he asked brusquely.
' Jones went away.'

'Yes. How glad you must be, by the
way, that he is gone! But it was not Mr.
Jones, it was a person who oversaw the
difference of opinion. No, never mind who
it was ; I have found means to silence that
person.'

Little did Mr. Plowden guess that during
' the whole course of his love scene, and the
subsequent affair with Jeremy, there had86	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

leant gracefully in an angle of the sod
Wall, not twenty yards away, a figure un-
commonly resembling that of an ancient
mariner in an attitude of the most in-
tense and solemn contemplation; but so it
was.

' I am grateful to you, Miss Ceswick.'

' Thank you, Mr. Plowden, it is refreshing
to meet with true gratitude, it is a scarce
flower in this world, but really I don't
deserve any. The observer who oversaw
the painful scene between you and Mr.
Jones also oversaw a scene preceding it,
that, so far as I can gather, seems to have
been hardly less painful in its way.'

Mr. Plowden coloured, but said nothing.

' Now you see, Mr. Plowden, I am left in
a rather peculiar position as regards my
sister; she is younger than I am, and has
always been accustomed to look up to me,
so, as you will easily understand, I feel myFLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	87

responsibilities to weigh upon me. Conse-
quently I feel bound to ask you what I
am to understand from the report of my
informant.'

£ Simply this, Miss Ceswick ; I proposed to
your sister and she refused me.'

' Indeed ! you were unfortunate that after-
noon.'

' Miss Ceswick,' went on Mr. Plowden,
after a pause, 'if I could find means
to induce your sister to change her
verdict, would my suit have your sup-
port ?'

Florence raised her piercing eyes from her
work, and for a second fixed them on the
clergyman's face.

• ' That depends, Mr. Plowden.'

' I am well off,' he went on eagerly, ' and
I will tell you a secret. I have bought the
advowson of this living; I happened to
hear that it was going, and got it a bargain,88	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

I don't think that Halford's life is worth
five years' purchase.'

' Why do you want to marry Eva, Mr.
Plowden ?' asked Florence, ignoring this
piece of information; ' you are not in love
with her ?'

' In love! No, Miss Ceswick. I don't
think that sensible men fall in love, they
leave that to boys and women.'

' Oh ! Then why do you want to marry
Eva 1 It will be best to tell me frankly,
Mr. Plowden.'

He hesitated, and then came to the con-
clusion that with a person of Florence's
penetration, frankness was the best
game.

'Well, as you must know, your sister is
an extraordinarily beautiful woman.'

'And would therefore form a desirable
addition to your establishment ?'

' Precisely,' said Mr. Plowden.FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	89

' Also,' he went on, ' she is a distinguished-
looking woman, and quite the lady.'

Florence shuddered at the phrase.

' And would therefore give you social
status, Mr. Plowden ?'

'Yes. She is also sprung from an ancient
family.'

Florence smiled, and looked at Mr. Plow-
den with an air that said more plainly
than any words, 'which you clearly are
not.'

'In short, I am anxious to get married,
and I admire your sister Eva more than
anybody I ever saw.'

' All of which are very satisfactory reasons,
Mr. Plowden; all you have to do is to con-
vince my sister of the many advantages
you have to offer her, and—to win her
affections.'

' Ah, Miss Ceswick, that is just the point.
She told me that her affections are already90	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

irredeemably, engaged, and that she had
none to give. If only I have the oppor-
tunity, however, I shall hope to be able to
distance my rival.'

Florence looked at him scrutinizingly as
she answered—

' You do not know Ernest Kershaw, or
you would not be so confident.'

' Why am I not as good as this Ernest ?'
he asked ; for Florence's remark, identical
as it was with that of Jeremy, wounded
his vanity intensely.

•'Well, Mr. Plowden, I do not want to be
rude, but it is impossible for me to conceive
a woman's affections being won away from
Ernest Kershaw by you. You are so very
different.'

If Mr. Plowden wanted a straightforward
answer he had certainly got it. For some
moments he sat in sulky silence, and then
he said—FLORENCE ON MARRIAGE.	91

' I suppose if' that is the case there is
nothing to be dome.'

' I never sai.d that. Women are fre-
quently married whose affections are very-
much engaged elsewhere. You know how
they win their wives in savage countries,
Mr. Plowden: they catch them. Marriage
by capture is one of the oldest institutions
in the world.'

'Weill'

'Well, the same institution-still obtains
in England, only we don't call it by that
name. Do you suppose that no women are
hunted down now-a-days ? Ah, very many
are; the would-be husband heads the pack,
and all the loving relatives swell its
cry.'

' You mean that your sister can be hunted
down,' he said bluntly.

' I! I mean nothing except that the
persistent suitor on the spot often has a92	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

better chance than the lover at a distance,
however dear he may be.'

Then Mr. Plowden took his leave. Flor-
ence watched him walking down the garden
path.

' I am glad Jeremy shook you soundly,'
she said aloud. ' Poor Eva !'MR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 93

CHAPTER YI.

ME. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING.

"JliTR. PLOWDEN was not a suitor to let
the grass grow under his feet. As he
once took the trouble to explain to Florence,
he considered that there was nothing like
boldness in wooing, and he acted up to his
convictions. Possessing no more delicacy
of feeling than a bull elephant, and as much
consideration for the lady as the elephant
has for the lily it tramples under-foot, he,
figuratively speaking, charged at Eva every
time he saw her. He laid wait for her
round corners and asked her to marry him ;
he dropped in on her at odd hours, and
insisted upon her marrying him. It was94	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

quite useless for her to say, ' No, no, no,' or
to appeal to his better feelings or compas-
sion, for he had none. He simply would
not listen to her ; but, encouraged thereto
by the moral support which he received
from Florence, he crushed the poor girl
with his amorous eloquence.

It was a merry chase that Florence sat
and watched with a dark smile on her
scornful lip. In vain did the poor white
doe dash along at her best speed, the great
black hound was ever at her flank, and each
time she turned came bounding at her
throat. This idea of a chase, and a hound,
and a doe, took such a strong possession of
Florence's saturnine imagination, that she
actually made a drawing of it, for she was
a clever artist, throwing by a few strokes
of her pencil a perfect likeness of Mr.
Plowden into the fierce features of the
hound. The doe she drew with Eva's darkME. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 95

eyes, and when she had done them there
was such a world of agony in their tortured
gaze that she could not bear to look at
them, and tore her picture up.

One day Florence came in and found her
sister weeping.

' Well, Eva, what is it now ?' she asked
contemptuously.

' Mr. Plowden,' sobbed Eva.

' Oh, Mr. Plowden again ! Well, my dear,
if you will be so beautiful, and encourage
men, you must take the consequences.'

' I never encouraged Mr. Plowden.'

' Nonsense, Eva, you will not get me to
believe that. If you do not encourage him,
he would not go on making love to you.
Gentlemen are not so fond of being
snubbed.'

'Mr. Plowden is not a gentleman,' ex-
claimed Eva.

' What makes you say that ?'96	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

'Because a gentleman would not perse-
cute one as lie does. He will not take No
for an answer, and to-day he kissed my
hand. I tried to get it away from him, but
I could not. Oh, I hate him !'

' I tell you what it is, Eva; I have no
patience with you and your fancies. Mr.
Plowden is a very respectable man, he is
a clergyman, and well off, altogether quite
the sort of man to marry. Ah, Ernest—I
am sick of Ernest! If he wanted to marry
you, he should not go shooting people, and
then running off to South Africa. Don't
you be so silly as to pin your faith to a boy
like that. He was all very well to flirt with
while he was here ; now he has made a fool
of himself and gone, and there is an end of
him.'

' But, Florence, I love Ernest. I think I
love him more dearly every day, and I
detest Mr. Plowden.'MR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 97

' Very likely. I don't ask you to love
Mr. Plowden; 1 ask you to marry him.
What have love and marriage got to do
with each other, I should like to know ? If
people were always to marry the people they
loved, things would soon get into a pretty
mess. Look here, Eva, as you kaoWj I
do not often obtrude myself or my own
interests, but I think that I have a right to
be considered a little in this matter. You
have now gut an opportunity of making a
home for both of us. There is nothing
against Mr. Plowden. Why should you
not marry him as well as anybody else ?
Of course if you choose to sacrifice your own
ultimate happiness and the comfort of us
both to a silly whim. I cannot prevent you,
you are your own mistress. Only I beg
you to disabuse your mind of the idea,
that you could not be happy with Mr.

Plowden, because you happen to fancy your-

vol. u.	«98	THE WITCH'S- HEAD.

self in love with Ernest. Why in six months
you will have forgotten all about him.'

' But I don't want to forget about him.'

' I dare say not. That is your abominable
egotism again. But whether you want to or
not, you will. In a year or two, when you
■have your own interests and your children—'

'Florence, you may talk till midnight if
you like, but once and for all, I w-ill not
marry Mr. Plowden,' and she swept out of
the room in her stately way.

Florence laughed softly to herself as she
said after her-—

' Ah, yes you will, Eva. I shall be
pinning a bride's veil on to that proud head
of yours before you are six months older,
my dear.'

Florence was quite right, it was only a
question of time and cunningly-applied
pressure. Eva yielded at last.

But there is no need for us to follow theMR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 99

hateful story through, its various stages. If
by chance any of the readers of this history
are curious about them, let them go and
study from the life. Such cases exist around
them, and, so far as the victims are con-
cerned, there is a painful monotony in the
development of their details and their
conclusion.

And so it came to pass that one after-
noon in the early summer, Florence, coming
in from walking, found Mr. Plowden and
her sister together in the little drawing-
room. The latter was very pale, and shrink-
ing with scared eyes and trembling limbs,
up against the mantelpiece, near which she
was standing. The former, looking big
and vulgar, was standing over her and
trying to take her hand.

' Congratulate me, Miss Florence,' he said.
' Eva has promised to be mine.'

* Has she ?' said Florence coldly. ' How

H a100	the witch's head,

glad you must be that Mr. Jones is out of
the way!'

It was not a kind speech, but the fact
was, there were few people in the world for
whom Florence had such a complete con-
tempt, or whom she regarded with such
intense dislike as she did Mr. Plowden.
The mere presence of the man irritated her
beyond all bearing. He was an instrument
suited to her purposes, so she used him, but
she could find it in her heart to regret that
the instrument was not more pleasant to
handle.

Mr. Plowden turned pale at her taunt,
mid even in the midst of her fear and
misery Eva smiled, and thought to herself
that it was lucky for her hateful lover
that somebody else was 'out of the
way.'

Poor Eva!

Eva!' you think to yourself, myMR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 101

reader; 4 there was nothing poor about her;
she was weak, she was contemptible.'

Oh, pause a while before you say so!
Remember that circumstances were against
her; remember that the idea of duty, drilled
into her breast and the breasts of her
ancestresses from generation to generation
by the superior animal man, and fated as
often as not to prove more of a bane than a
blessing, was against her; remember that
her sister's ever-present influence over-
shadowed her, and that her suitor's vulgar
vitality crushed her to the ground.

' Yet with it all she was weak,' you say.
Well, she was weak, as weak as you must
expect women to be after centuries of
tyranny have bred weakness into their
very nature. Why are women weak ? Be-
cause men have made them so. Because the
law that was framed by men, and the public
opinion which it has been their privilege to102	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

direct, have from age to age drilled into
them the belief that they are nought but
chattels, to be owned and played with,
existing for their pleasure and their passion,
and ranking in value somewhere between
their houses and their oxen. Because men,
being the stronger animals, have crushed and
forced them into certain moulds, saying,
'Thus shalt thou be.' Because men have
systematically stunted their mental growth
and denied them their natural rights, and
that equality which is theirs before high
heaven. Weak !—women have become weak
because weakness is the passport to the
favour of our sex. They have become
foolish because education has been withheld
from them and ability discouraged; they
have become frivolous because frivolity has
been declared to be the natural mission of
woman. There is no male simpleton who
does not like to have a bigger simpletonMR. PL0WDEN GOES A-WOOING. 103

than he is to lord it over. What would the
empty-headed donkeys do if there were
none emptier-headed than they to re-echo
their brays ? Truly the triumph of the
stronger sex has been complete, for it has
even succeeded in enlisting its victims in its
service. The great instruments in the sup-
pression of women, and in their retention at
their present level, are women themselves.
And yet before we go home and bully out
wives and daughters, or to the club and
sneer at the weaknesses and failings of those
of others, let us be for a minute just.
Which is the superior of the two—the
woman or' the man ? In brute strength we
have the advantage, but in intellect she is
probably our equal, if only we will give her
fair play. And in purity, in tenderness, in
long-suffering, in fidelity, in all the Chris-
tian virtues, which is the superior in these
things? Oh, man, whoever you are, think104	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

of your mother and your sisters, think of
the eyes that first looked love upon you,
and the heart that dreams it still; think of
her who nursed you in sickness, of her who
stood by you in trouble when all others
would have none of you, and then answer.

Woman, divinest of God's creatures,
golden vessel turned to common uses, sweet
star made to serve as the drunkard's lamp
and the profligate's plaything; yes, plucked
from your native skies to be worn alike by
the fool, the knave, and the self-seeker, and
yet faithful to them all; to be trod into
the dirt by the earthy brute, and jeered at
by the heartless cynic,—how immeasurable
is the injustice, how vast the wrong that has
been and is daily being heaped upon you !

How much we hear of woman's duty to
ijaan, how little of man's duty to woman!
how hard we are upon your sins and
weaknesses, how tender you are to ours !MR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 105

Surely it will be a happy day for the
civilized world, when, freed at last by the
growth of knowledge and the increased
sense of justice, woman takes her place as
man's equal, no longer his vassal and the
minister to his wants and pleasures only,
but as his equal ; when she brings her
fine intellect and enlarged capacity to bear
upon the questions which hitherto he has
been pleased to consider his exclusive right,
and her trained intelligence to their solution;
when the social barriers are broken down,
and she is untrammelled in the exercise of
her natural rights, except by the truer sense
of virtue and the stronger sense of duty
which even now often elevate her far above
our heads.

Poor Eva! Yes, give her all your pity,
but purge it of your contempt. It requires
that a woman should possess a mind of
unusual robustness to stand out against106	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

circumstances such as hemmed her in, and
this she did not possess. Nature, which had
showered physical gifts upon her with such
a lavish hand, had not given her that most
useful of all gifts, the power of self-defence;
She was made to yield, but this was her
only fault. For the rest she was pure as
the mountain snow, and with a heart of
gold. Herself incapable of deceit, it never
occurred to her to imagine it in others.
She never suspected that Florence could
have a motive in her advocacy of Mr.
Plowden's cause. On the contrary, she was
possessed to the full with that idea of duty
and self-sacrifice which in some women
amounts almost to madness. The notion so
cleverly started by Florence, that she was
bound to take this opportunity of giving
her sister a home and the permanent pro-
tection of a brother-in-law, had taken a firm
hold of her mind. As for the cruel wrongMR. PLOWDEN GOES A-WOOING. 107

and injustice which her marriage with Mr.
Plowden would work to Ernest, it, strange
as it may seem, never occurred to her to
consider the matter in that light. She
knew what her own sufferings were and
always must be; she knew that she would
rather. die than be false to Ernest; but
somehow she never looked at the other side
of the picture, never considered the matter
from Ernest's point of view. After the
true womanly fashion, she was prepared to
throw herself under her hideous Juggernaut
called Duty, and let her inner life, the life
of her heart, be crushed out of her; but
she never thought of the twin life which
was welded with her own, and which must
be crushed too. How curious it is that
when women talk so much of their duties,
they often think so little of the higher duty
which they owe to the man whose whole
love they have won, and whom they

\108	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

cherish in their misguided hearts! The
only feasible explanation of the mystery is,
that one of the ideas that has been per-
sistently drilled into the female breast, is
that men have not any real feelings. It
is vaguely supposed that they will ' get
over it.' However this may be, when a
woman decides to do violence to her natural
feelings and contracts herself into an
unholy marriage, the lover whom she de-
serts is generally the last person to be con-
sidered. Poor wretch! he will no doubt
' get over it.'

Fortunately many do.OVER THE WATER.

109

CHAPTER VII.

OVER THE WATER.

jyp. ALSTON and Ernest carried out
their plans as regards sport. They
went up to Lydenburg and had a month's
wilderbeeste and blesbok shooting within
three days' ' trek' with an ox-waggon from
that curious little town. The style of life
was quite new to Ernest, and he enjoyed
it much. They had an ox-waggon and a
span of sixteen 'salted' oxen, that is, oxen
which will not die of lung-sickness, and in
this lumbering vehicle they travelled about
wherever fancy or the presence of buck
took them. Mr. Alston and his boy Roger
slept in the waggon, and Ernest in a little110	the witch's head.

tent which was pitched every night along-
side, and never did he sleep sounder.
There was a freshness and freedom about
the life which charmed him. It is pleasant
after the day's shooting or travelling to
partake of the hearty meal, of which the piece
de resistance generally consists of a stew
compounded indiscriminately of wilderbeeste
beef, bustard, partridges, snipe, rice, and
compressed vegetables—a dish, by the way,
which is, if properly cooked, fit to set before
a king. And then comes the pipe, or rather
a succession of pipes, and the talk over the
day's sport, and the effect of that long shot,
and the hunting yarn that it ' reminds me '
of. And after the yarn the well-known square
bottle is produced, and the tin pannikins,
out of which you have been drinking tea,
are sent to the spring down in the hollow
to be washed by the Zulu ' voorlooper,' who
objects to going because of the 'spooks'OYER THE WATER.	Ill

(ghosts) which he is credibly informed
inhabit that hollow; and you indulge in
your evening ' tot,' and smoke more pipes,
and talk or ruminate as the fancy takes
you. And then at last up comes the
splendid African moon like a radiant queen
rising from a throne of inky cloud, flooding
the whole wide veldt with mysterious light,
and reveals the long lines of game slowly
travelling to their feeding-grounds along
the ridges of the rolling plain.

Well, ' one more drop' and then to bed,
having come to the admirable decision (so
easy to make over-night, so hard to adhere
to when the time comes) to ' trek from the
yokfe' at dawn. And then, having undressed
yourself outside, all except the flannel shirt
in which you are going to sleep, for there
is no room to do so inside, you stow your.
clothes and boots away under your mackin-
tosh "sheet, for clothes wet through with112	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

dew are unpleasant to wear before the sun
is up, and creep on your hands and knees
into your little tenement and wriggle be-
tween the blankets.

For a while, perhaps, you lie so, your
pipe still between your lips, and gazing up
through the opening of the little tent at
two bright particular stars shining in the
blue depths above, or watching the waving
of the tall tambouki grass as the night
wind goes sighing through it. And then,
behold! the cold far stars draw near,
gro„w warm with life, and change to Eva's
eyes—if you have an Eva—and the yellow
tambouki grass is her waving hair, and the
sad whispering of the wind her voice, which
speaks and tells you that she has come from
far across the great seas to tell you that
she loves you, to lull you to your rest.

What was it that frighted her so soon ?
The rattling of chains and the deep lowingOVER THE WATER.

113

of the oxen, rising to be ready for the
dawn. It has not come yet, but it is
not far off. See, the grey light begins to
gleam upon the oxen's horns, and far away,
there in the east, the grey is streaked
with primrose. Away with dreams, and
up to pull the shivering Kafirs from their
snug lair beneath the waggon, and to give
the good nags, which must gallop wilder-
beeste all to-day, a double handful of
mealies before you start.

Ah neu- yah -trek! the great Waggon
strains and starts, and presently the glorious
sun comes up, and you eat a crust of bread
as you sit on the waggon-box, and wash it
down with a mouthful of spirit, and feel
that it is a splendid thing to get up early.

Then, about half-past eight, comes the
halt for breakfast, and the welcome tub
in the clear stream that you have been

making for, and after breakfast, saddle up

VOL. II.	I114	the witch's head.

the nags, take your bearings by the kopje,
and off after that great herd of wilderbeeste.

And so, my reader, day adds itself to day,
and each day will find you healthier, hap-
pier, and stronger than the last. No letters,
no newspapers, no duns, and no babies. Oh,
think of the joy of it, effete Caucasian, and
go buy an ox-waggon and do likewise.

After a month of this life, Mr. Alston
came to the conclusion that there would
now be no danger in descending into the
low country towards Delagoa Bay in search
of large game. Accordingly, having added
to their party another would-be Nimrod, a
gentleman just arrived from England in
search of sport, they started. For the
first month or so things went very well
with them. They killed a good quantity of
buffalo, koodoo, eland, and water-buck, also
two giraffe, but to Ernest's great disappoint-
ment did not come across any rhinoceros,OVER THE WATER.	115

and only got a shot at one lion, which he
missed, though there were plenty round
them. But soon the luck turned. First
their horses died of the terrible scourge of
all this part of South Africa, the horse
sickness. They had given large prices for
them, about seventy pounds each, as' salted'
animals, that is, animals that, having already
had the sickness and recovered from it, were
supposed to be proof against its attacks.
But for all that they died one after another.
This was only the beginning of evils. The
day after the last horse died, the companion
who had joined them at Lydenburg was
taken ill of the fever. Mr. Jeffries, for
that was his name, was a very reserved
English gentleman of good fortune, some-
thing over thirty years of age. Like most
people who came into close relationship
with Ernest, he had taken a considerable

fancy to him, and the two were, compara-

i %116	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

tively speaking, intimate. During the first
stages of his fever, Ernest nursed him
like a brother, and was at length rewarded
by seeing him in a fair way to recovery.
On one unlucky day, however, Jeffries being
so much better, Mr. Alston and Ernest went
out to try and shoot a buck, as they were
short of meat, leaving the camp in charge
of the boy Roger. For a long while they
could find no game, but at last Ernest
came across a fine bull eland standing
rubbing himself against a mimosa thorn
tree. A shot from his express, planted
well behind the shoulder, brought the noble
beast down quite dead, and having laden
the two Kafirs with them with the tongue,
liver, and as much of the best meat as
they could carry, they started back for
camp.

Meanwhile one of the sudden and tre-
mendous thunder-storms peculiar to SouthOVER THE WATER.	117

0

Africa came swiftly up against the wind,
heralding its arrival by a blast of ice-
cold air; and presently they were stagger-
ing along in the teeth of a fearful tempest.
The whole sky was lurid with lightning,
the hills echoed with the continuous roll
of thunder, and the rain came down in
sheets. In the thick of it all, exhausted,
bewildered, and wet to the skin, they
reached the camp ; there a sad sight awaited
them. In front of the tent which served as
a hospital for Jeffries was a large ant-heap,
and on this ant-heap, clad in nothing but a
flannel shirt, sat Jeffries himself. The rain
was beating on his bare head and emaciated
face, and the ice-cold breeze was tossing
his dripping hair. One hand he kept raising
to the sky to let the cold water fall upon
it: the other the boy Roger held, and by
it vainly attempted, to drag him back to
the tent. But Jeffries was a man of large118	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

build, and the little lad might as well have
tried to drag an ox.

' Isn't it glorious 1' shouted the delirious
man as they came up ; ' I've got cool at last.'

'Yes, and you will soon be cold, poor
fellow,' muttered Mr. Alston as they hurried
up.

They got him back into the tent, and in
half an hour he was beyond all hope. He
did not rave much, but kept repeating a
single word in every possible tone. That
word was—

' Alice.'

At dawn on the following morning he
died with it on his lips. Ernest often
wondered afterwards who ' Alice' could be.

Next day they dug a deep grave under
an ancient thorn-tree, and reverently laid
him to his rest. On his breast they piled
great stones to keep away the jackals, filling
in the cracks with earth.;	OVER THE WATER.	119

I -4

Then they left him to his sleep. It is
a sad task that, burying a comrade in the
lonely wilderness.

.. is they were approaching the waggon
again, little Eoger sobbing bitterly, for Mr.
Jefixies had been very kind to him, and a
first experience of death is dreadful to the
young, they met the Zulu voorlooper, a lad
called Jim, who had been out all day watch-
ing the cattle as they grazed. He saluted
Alston after the Zulu fashion, by lifting
right arm and saying the word ' Inkoos,'
antl^hen stood still.

<V%11, what is it, boy ?' asked Mr.
Alston. ' Have you lost the oxen ?'

' ISTo, Inkoos, the oxen are safe at the
yoke, fit is this. When I was sitting on
the k >je yonder, watching that the oxen
of tht ikoos should not stray, an Intombi
(young t1) from the kraal under the
mount; 'onder came to me. She is the120	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

daughter of a Zulu mother who fell into the
hands of a Basutu dog, and my half-cousin.'
'Well?'

' Inkoos, I have met this girl before, I
have met her when I have been sent to buy
" maas " (butter-milk) at the kraal.'

' Good!'

'.Inkoos, the girl came to bring heavy
news, such as will press upon your heart,
Sikukuni, chief of the Bapedi, who live '■
over yonder under the Blue Mountains, h
declared war against the Boers.'

' I hear.'

' Sikukuni wants rifles for his men such
as the Boers use. He has heard of the
Inkosis hunting here. To-night he will
send an Impi to kill the Inkosis and take
their guns.'

' These are the words of the Into" u ?'

' Yes, Inkoos, these are her ve words.
She was sitting outside the ter aidingOVER THE WATER.	121

" imphi" (Kafir corn) for beer when she
heard Sikukuni's messenger order her father
to call the men together to kill us to-
night.'

' I hear. At what time of the night was
the killing to be ?'

' At the first break of the dawn, so that
they may have light to take the waggon
away by.'

' Good! we shall escape them. The
moon will be up in an hour, and we can
trek away.'

The lad's face fell.

c Alas !' he said, ' it is impossible; there

is a spy watching the camp now. He is up

there among the rocks; I saw him as I

brought the oxen home. If we move he

will report it, and we shall be overtaken in
i

an hour.'

Mr. Alston thought for a moment, and
then made up his mind with the rapiditv122	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

that characterizes men who spend their life
in dealing with savage races.

' Mazooku !' he called to a Zulu who was
sitting smoking by the camp fire, a man
whom Ernest had hired as his particular
servant. The man rose and came to him,
and saluted.

He was not a very tall man ; but, stand-
ing there nude except for the ' moocha '
round his centre, his proportions, especially
those of the chest and lower limbs, looked
gigantic. He had been a soldier in one of
Cetywayo's regiments, but having been so
indiscreet as to break through some of the
Zulu marriage laws, had been forced to fly
for refuge to Natal, where he had become
a groom, and picked up a peculiar language
which he called English. Even among a
people where all the men are fearless, he
bore a reputation for bravery. Leaving
Mm standing awhile, Mr. Alston rapidlyOYER THE WATER.	123

explained the state of the case to Ernest,
and what he proposed to do. Then turning,
he addressed the Zulu.

' Mazooku, the Inkoos here, your master,
tells me that he thinks you a brave
man.'

The Zulu's handsome face expanded into
a smile that was positively alarming in its
extent.

' He says that you told him that when
you were Cetywayo's man in the Undi
Regiment, you once killed four Basutus,
who set upon you together.'

Mazooku lifted his right arm and saluted,
by way of answer, and then glanced slightly
at the assegai wounds on his chest.

'Well, I tell your master that I do not
believe you. It is a lie you speak to him ;
you ran away from Cetywayo because you
did not like to fight and be killed as the
king's ox, as a brave man should.'124

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

The Zulu coloured up under his dusky
skin, and again glanced at his wounds.

' Ow-w!' he said.

' Bah! there is no need for you to look
at those scratches, they were left by women's
nails. You are nothing but a woman.
Silence! who told you to speak ? If you
are not a woman, show it. There is an
armed Basutu among those rocks. He
watches us. Your master cannot eat and
sleep in peace when he is watched. Take
that big " bangwan " (stabbing assegai) you
are so fond of showing, and kill him, or
die a coward. He must make no sound,
remember.'

Mazooku turned towards Ernest for con-
firmation of the order. A Zulu always
likes to take his orders straight from his own
chief. Mr. Alston noticed it, and. added—

' I am the Inkoosi's mouth, and speak his
words.'OYER THE WATER.	125

Mazooku saluted again, and turning, went
to the waggon to fetch his assegai.

' Tread softly, or you will wake him ; and
he will run from so great a man,' Mr.
Alston called after him sarcastically.

' I go among the rocks to seek " mouti"'
(medicine), the Zulu answered with a smile.

' We are in a serious mess, my boy,' said
Mr. Alston to Ernest, ' and it is a toss-up
if we get out of it. I taunted that fellow
so that there may be no mistake about the
spy. He must be killed, and Mazooku would
rather die himself than not kill him now.'

'Would it not have been safer to send
another man with him?'

e Yes; but I was afraid that if the scout
saw two men coming towards him he would
make olf, however innocent they might
look. Our horses are dead, and if that
fellow escapes we shall never get out of
this place alive. It would be folly to126	the witch's head.

expect Basutus to distinguish between Boers
and Englishmen when their blood is up,
and besides, Sikukuni has sent orders that
we are to be killed, and they would not
dare to disobey. Look, there goes Mr.
Mazooku with an assegai as big as a fire-
shovel.'

The kopje, or stony hill, where the spy
was hid, was about three hundred yards
from the little hollow in which the camp
was formed, and across the stretch of bushy
plain between the two, Mazooku was quietly
strolling, his assegai in one hand and two
long sticks in the other. Presently he
vanished in the shadow, for the sun was
rapidly setting, and after what seemed a
long pause to Ernest, who was watching
his movements through a pair of field-
glasses, ' reappeared walking along the
shoulder of the hill right against the sky-
line, his eyes fixed upon the ground asOVER THE WATER.

127

though he were searching among the
crevices of the rocks for the medical herbs
which Zulus prize.

All of a sudden Ernest saw the stalwart
form straighten itself and spring, with the
assegai in its hand raised to the level of
its head, down into a dip, which hid it
from sight. Then came a pause, lasting
perhaps for twenty seconds. On the further
side of the dip was a large flat rock, which
was straight in a line with the fiery ball
of the setting sun. Suddenly a tall figure
sprung up out of the hollow on to this
rock, followed by another figure, in whom
Ernest recognized Mazooku. For a moment
the two men, looking from their position
like figures afire, struggled together on the
top of the fiat stone, and Ernest could clearly
distinguish the quick flash of their spears as
they struck at each other, then they vanished
together over the edge of the stone.128	the witch's head,

'By Jove!' said Ernest, who was trem-
bling with excitement ' I wonder how it
has ended.'

' We shall know presently,' answered Mr.
Alston, coolly. ' At any rate the die is
cast one way or other, and we may as well
make a bolt for it. Now, you Zulus, down
with those tents and get the oxen in-
spanned, and look quick about it, if you
don't want a Basutu assegai to send you
to join the spirit of Chaka.'

The voorlooper Jim had by this time
communicated his alarming intelligence to
the driver and other Kafirs, and Mr.
Alston's exhortation to look sharp was quite
unnecessary. Ernest never saw camp struck
or oxen inspanned with such rapidity
before. But before the first tent was fairly
\ down, they were all enormously relieved to
see Mazooku coming trotting , cheerfully
across the plain, droning a little Zulu songOVER THE WATER.	129

as he ran. His appearance, however, was
by no means cheerful, for he was perfectly
drenched with blood, some of it flowing
from a wound in his left shoulder, and the
rest evidently till recently the personal
property of somebody else. Arrived in
front of where Mr. Alston and Ernest were
standing, he raised his broad assegai, which
was still dripping blood, and saluted.

' I hear,' said Mr. Alston.

' I have done the Inkoosi's bidding.
There were two of them, the first I killed
easily in the hollow, but the other, a very
big man, fought well for a Basutu. They
are dead, and I threw them into a hole, that
their brothers might not find them easily.'

' Good ! go wash yourself and get your
master's things into the waggon. Stop, let
me sew up that cut. How came you to
be so awkward as to get touched by a
Basutu/?'

VOL. II.	K130	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' Inkoos, he was very quick with his spear,
and he fought like a cat.'

Mr. Alston did not reply, hut taking
a stout needle and some silk from a little
huswife he carried in his pocket, he quickly
stitched up the assegai gash, which fortun-
ately was not a deep one. Mazooku stood
without flinching till the job was finished,
and then retired to wash himself at the
spring.

The short twilight rapidly faded into
darkness, or rather into what would have
been darkness had it not been for the
half-grown moon, which was to serve to
light them on their path. Then a large fire
having been lit on the site of the camp,
to make it appear as though it were still
pitched there, the order was given to start.
The oxen, obedient to the voice of the driver,
strained at the trek-tow, the waggon
creaked and jolted, and they began theirOYER THE WATER.	131

long flight for life. The order of march was
as follows]: Two hundred yards ahead of
the waggon walked a Kafir, with strict
orders to keep his eyes very wide open
indeed, and report in the best way possible
under the circumstances if he detected any
signs of an ambush. At the head of the
long line of cattle, leading the two front
oxen by a ' rim' or strip of buffalo hide, was
the Zulu boy Jim, to whose timely dis-
covery they owed their lives, and by the
side of the waggon the driver, a Cape
Hottentot, plodded along in fear and trem-
bling. On the waggon-box itself, each
with a Winchester repeating rifle on his
knees, and keeping a sharp look-out into
the shadows, sat Mr. Alston and Ernest.
In the hinder part of the waggon, also
armed with a rifle and keeping a keen
look-out, sat Mazooku. The other servants

marched alongside, and the boy Roger

K 2132	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

was asleep inside, on the ' cartle' or hide
bed.

And so they travelled on hour after hour.
Now they bumped down terrific hills strewn
with boulders, which would have smashed
anything less solid than an African ox waggon
to splinters; now they crept along a dark
valley, that looked weird and solemn in the
moonlight, expecting to see Sekukuni's Impi
emerging from every clump of bush; and
now again they waded through mountain
streams. At last, about midnight, they
emerged on to a plain dividing two stretches
of mountainous country, and here they
halted for a while to give the oxen, which
were fortunately in good condition and fat
after their long rest, a short breathing time.
Then on again through the long quiet
night, on, still on, till the dawn found them
the other side of the wide plain at the foot
of the mountain range.OVER THE WATER.	133

Here they rested for two hours, and let
the oxen fill themselves with the lush
! grass. They had travelled thirty miles
, since the yokes were put upon their necks,
not far according to our way of journeying,
but very far for cumbersome oxen over an
almost impassable country. As soon as the
sun was well up they inspanned again, and
hurried forward, bethinking them of the
Basutu horde who would now be pressing
on their spoor ; on with brief halts through
all that day and the greater part of the
following night, till the cattle began to
fall down in the yokes—till at last they
crossed the boundary and were in Transvaal
territory.

When dawn broke, Mr. Alston took the
glasses and examined the track over which
they had fled. There was nothing to be
seen except a great herd of hartebeest.

' I think that we are safe now,' he said at134	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

last, ' and thank God for it. Do you know
what those Basutu devils would have done
if they had caught us ?'

'What?'

' They would have skinned us, and made
our hearts and livers into " mouti" (medi-
cine), and eaten them to give them the
courage of the white man.'

' By Jove !' said Ernest.A HOMERIC COMBAT.	135

CHAPTER VTII.

A HOMERIC COMBAT.

"TTTHEN" Mr. Alston and Ernest found
themselves safe upon Transvaal
soil, they determined to give up the idea
of following any more big game for the
present, and to content themselves with the
comparatively humble vilderbeeste, blesbok,
springbok, and other small antelopes. The
plan they pursued was to slowly journey
from one point of the country to another,
stopping wherever they found the buck
particularly plentiful. In this way they
got excellent sport, and spent several months
very agreeably, with the further advantage
that Ernest obtained considerable knowledge136	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

of the country and its inhabitants, the
Boers.

It was a wild rough life that they led,
but by no means a lowering one. The con-
tinual contact with nature in all her moods,
and in her wildest shapes, was to a man of
impressionable mind like Ernest an edu-
cation in itself. His mind absorbed some-
thing of the greatness round him, and
seemed to grow wider and deeper during
those months of lonely travel The long
struggle too with the hundred difficulties
which arise in waggon journeys, and the
quickness of decision necessary to avoid
danger or discomfort in such a mode of life
were of great service to him in shaping his
character. Nor was he left without suitable
society, for in his companion he found a
friend for whose talents and intelligence he
had the highest respect.

; Mr. Alston was a very quiet individual;A HOMERIC COMBAT.	137

lie never said a thing unless he had first
considered it in all its bearings; but when
he did say it it was always well worth
listening to. He was a man who had spent
Iris life in the closest observation of human
nature in the rough. Now you, my reader,
may think that there is a considerable
difference between human nature ' in the
rough,' as exemplified by a Zulu warrior
stalking out of his kraal in a kaross and
brandishing an assegai, and yourself, say,
strolling up the steps of your club in a
frock-ccat and twirling one of Brigg's
umbrellas. But as a matter of fact the
difference is of a most superficial character,
bearing the same proportion to the common
substance that the furniture polish does to
the table. Scratch the polish, and there you
have best raw Zulu human nature. Indeed,
to anybody who has taken the trouble to
study the question, it is simply absurd to138	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

observe how powerless high civilization has
been to do anything more than veneer that
raw material, which remains identical in
each case.

To return, the result of Mr. Alston's ob-
servations had been to make him an ex-
tremely shrewd companion, and an excellent
judge of men and their affairs. There were
few subjects which he had not quietly con-
sidered during all the years that he had been
trading or shooting or serving the Govern-
ment in one capacity or another ; anci Ernest
was astonished to find that, although^ he had
only spent some four months of his life in
England, how intimate was his knowledge
of the state of political parties, of the great
social questions of the day, and even of
matters connected with literature and art.
It is not too much to say that it was -from
Mr. Alston that Ernest imbibed principles
on all these subjects which he never desertedA HOMERIC COMBAT.	139

in after life, and which subsequent experi-
ence proved to be for the most part sound.

And thus, between shooting and philo-
sophical discussion, the time passed on
pleasantly enough, till at length they drew
near to Pretoria, the capital of the Transvaal,
where they had decided to go and rest the
oxen for a month or two before making
arrangements for a real big game excursion
up towards central Africa. They struck into
the Pretoria road just above a town called
Heidelberg, about sixty miles from the
former place, and proceeded by easy stages
towards their destination.

As they went on, they generally found it
convenient to outspan at spots which it
was evident had been used for the same
purpose by some waggon which was travelling
one stage ahead of them. So frequently
did this happen, that during their first five
or six outspans they were able on no less140	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

than three occasions to* avail themselves of
the dying fires of their predecessors' camp.
This was a matter of lively interest to
Ernest, who always did cook ; and a very
good cook he became. One of the great
bothers of South African travelling is the
fire question. Indeed, how to make suffi-
cient fire to boil a kettle when you have
no fuel to make it of is the great question
of South African travel. A ready -made fire
is therefore peculiarly acceptable, and for the
last half-hour of the trek Ernest was always
in a great state of expectation as to whether
the waggon before them had or had not been

OO

considerate enough to leave theirs burnino;.

o	o

Thus, when it came to pass that one morn-
ing, W/hen they were about fifteen miles from
Pretoria, which they expected to reach the
same evening, and the waggon was slowly
drawing up to the outspan place, Ernest,
accompanied by Mazooku, who loungedA HOMERIC COMBAT.	141

about after' him like a black shadow, ran
forward to see if their predecessors had or
had not been considerate. In this instance
energy was rewarded, for the fire was still
burning.

' Hoorah !' said Ernest; ' get the sticks,
Mazooku, and go and fill the kettle. By
Jove ! there's a knife.'

There was a knife, a many bladed knife
with a buck-horn handle and a corkscrew
in it, left lying by the dying fire. Ernest
took it up and looked at it, somehow it
seemed familiar to him. He turned it
round and looked at the silver plate upon
it, and suddenly started.

' What is the matter, Ernest ?' said Mr.
Alston, who had joined ,them.

'Look there,' he answered, pointing to
two initials cut on the knife.

'"Well, I see, some fellow has left his
knife, so much the better for the finder.'142	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

' You have heard me speak of my friend
Jeremy. , That is his knife. I gave it to
him years ago. Look—J. J.'

' Nonsense, it is some knife like it, I have
seen hundreds of that make.'

' I believe that it is the same. He must
be there.'

Mr. Alston shrugged his shoulders. ' Not
probable,' he said.

Ernest made no answer. He stood staring
at the knife.

' Have you written to your people lately,
Ernest ?'

' No; the last letter I wrote was down
there in Sekukuni's country ; you remember
I sent it by the Basutu who was going to
Lydenburg, just before Jeffries died.'

' Like enough he never got to Lydenburg.
He would not have dared to go to Lyden-
burg after the war broke out. You should
write.'A HOMERIC COMBAT.	143

' I mean to from Pretoria, but somehow
I have had no heart for writing.'

Nothing more was said about the matter,
and Ernest put the knife into his pocket.

That evening they trekked down through
the ' Poort' that commands ' the most
charming of the South African towns, and
on the plain below, Pretoria, bathed in the
bright glow of the evening sunshine, smiled
its welcome to them. Mr. Alston, who knew
the town, determined to trek straight
through it, and outspan the waggon on the
farther side, where he thought there would
be better grazing for the cattle. Accord-
ingly they rumbled on past the gaol, past
the pleasant white building which after-
wards became Government House, and which
was at that moment occupied by the
English Special Commissioner and his staff,
about whose doings all sorts of rumours
had reached them during their journey,144	the witch's head.

and on to the market square. This area
was at the moment crowded with Boer
waggons, whose owners had trekked in to
celebrate their 'nachtmaal' (communion),
of which it is their habit, in company with
their wives and children, to partake four
times a year. The ' Yolksraad,' or local
parliament, was also in special session to
consider the proposals made to it on behalf
of the Imperial Government, so that the
little town was positively choked with
visitors. The road down which they were
passing ran past the building used as
Government Offices, and between this and
the Dutch church a considerable crowd was
gathered, which, to judge from the shouts
and volleys of oaths, Dutch and English, that
proceeded from it, was working itself up
into a state of excitement.

'Hold on,' shouted Ernest to the voor-
looper, and then turning to Mr. Alston,A HOMERIC COMBAT.	145

' There is a jolly row going on there, let us

go and see what it is.'

' All right, my boy, where the fighting is,

there will the Englishmen be gathered

together,' and they climbed down off the

waggon and made for the crowd.

The row was this. Among the Boers

assembled for the ' nachtmaal' festival was a

well-known giant of the name of Yan Zyl.

This man's strength was a matter of public

notoriety all over the country, and many

were the feats which were told of him.

Amongst others it was said that he could

bear the weight of the after part of an

African buck waggon on his shoulders, with

a load of three thousand pounds of corn

upon it, whilst the wheels were greased.

He stood about six foot seven high, weighed

eighteen stone and a half, and had a double

row of teeth. On the evening in question,

this remarkable specimen of humanity was
VOL. II.	L146	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

sitting on his waggon-box with a pipe, of
which the size was proportionate to his own,
clenched firmly between his double row of
teeth. About ten paces from him stood a
young Englishman, also of large size, though
he looked quite small beside the giant, who
was contemplating the phenomenon on the
waggon-box, and wondering how many inches
he measured round the chest. That young
Englishman had just got off a newly-arrived
waggon, and his name was Jeremy Jones.

To these advance a cringing Hottentot
boy of small size. The Hottentot is evi-
dently the servant or slave of the giant,
and a man standing by Jeremy, who under-
stands Dutch, informs him that he is telling
his master that an ox has strayed. Slowly
the giant rouses himself, and descending
from the waggon-box, seizes the trembling
Tottie with one hand, and taking a rim of
buffalo hide, lashes him to the waggon wheel.A HOMERIC COMBAT.	147

' Now,' remarked Jeremy's acquaintance,
'you will see how a Boer deals with a
nigger.'

' You don't mean to say that great brute
is going to beat that poor little devil ?'

Just then a small fat woman put her
head out of a tent pitched by the waggon,
and inquired what the matter was. She
was the giant's wife. On being informed
of the straying of the ox, her wrath knew
no bounds.

' Slaat em ! slaat de swartsel' (Thrash him !

thrash the black creature), she cried out in

a shrill voice, running to the waggon, and

with her own fair hands drawing out a

huge ' sjambock,' that is, a strip of prepared

hippopotamus hide, used to drive the after

oxen with, and giving it to her spouse,

' Cut the liver out of the black devil,'

she went on, ' but mind you don't hit his

head, or he won't be able to go to work

L 2,148

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

afterwards. Never mind about making the
blood come, I have got lots of salt to
rub in.'

Her harangue, and the sight of the
Hottentot tied to the wheel, had by this
time attracted quite a crowd of Boers and
Englishmen who were idling about the
market square.

'Softly, Vrouw, softly, I will thrash
* enough to satisfy even you, and we all
know that must be very hard where a
black creature is in question.'

A roar of laughter from the Dutch people
round greeted this sally of wit, and the
giant, taking the sjambock with a good-
humoured smile, for he was, like most
giants, easy-tempered by nature, lifted it,
whirled his great arm, as thick as the leg
of an average man, round his head, and
brought it down on the back of the miser-
able Hottentot. The poor wretch yelledA HOMERIC COMBAT.	149

with pain, and no wonder, for the greasy-
old shirt he wore was divided clean in two,
together with the skin beneath it, and the
blood was pouring from the gash.

' Allamachter ! dat is een lecker slaat'
(Almighty! that was a nice one), said the
old woman, at which the crowd laughed
again.

But there was one man who did not
laugh, and that man was Jeremy. On the 1
contrary, his clear eyes flashed, and his
brown cheek burned with indignation. Nor
did he -stop at that. Stepping forward
he placed himself between the giant and
the howling Hottentot, and said to the
former in the most nervous English, ' You
are a damned coward.'

The Boer stared at him and smiled, and
then, turning, asked what the ' English
fellow' was saying. Somebody translated
Jeremy's remark, whereupon the Boer, who150	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

was not a bad-natured fellow, smiled again,
and remarked that Jeremy must be madder
than the majority of ' accursed Englishmen.'
Then he turned to continue thrashing the
Hottentot, but, lo! the mad Englishman
was still there. This put him out.

'Footsack, carl, ik is Van Zyl' (Get out,
fellow, I am Van Zyl). This was interpreted
to Jeremy by the bystanders.

' All right, and tell him that I am Jones,
a name he may have heard before,' was the
reply.

' What does this brain-sick fellow want ?'
shouted the giant.

Jeremy explained that he wanted him to
stop his brutality.

' And what will the little man do if 1
refuse 1'

' I shall try to make you," was the answer.

This remark was received with a shout
of laughter from the crowd which hadA HOMERIC COMBAT.	151

now collected, in which the giant joined
very heartily when it was interpreted to
him.

Giving Jeremy a shove to one side, he
again lifted the great sjambock, with the
purpose of bringing it down on the Hot-
tentot. Another second, and Jeremy had
snatched the whip from his hand, and
sent it flying fifty yards away. Then
realizing that his antagonist was really in
earnest, the great Dutchman solemnly set
himself to crush him. Doubling a fist
which was the size of a Welsh leg of mutton,
he struck with all his strength straight at
the Englishman's head. Had the blow
caught Jeremy, it would in all probability
have killed him; but he was a practised
boxer, and without moving his body, he
swung his head to one side. The Boer's
fist passed him harmlessly, and striking
the panel of the waggon, went clean through152	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

it. Next instant several of the giant's
double row of teeth were rolling loose in
his mouth. Jereiny had returned the stroke
by a right-hander, into which he put all
his power, and which would have knocked
any other man backwards.

A great shout from the assembled Eng-
lishmen followed this blow, and a counter-
shout from the crowd of Dutchmen, who
pointed triumphantly to the hole in the
stout yellow-wood panel made by their
champion's fist, and asked who the madman
. was who dared to stand against him.

The Boer turned and spat out some of his
superfluous teeth, and at the same instant
a young Englishman came and caught hold
of Jeremy by the arm.

' For Heaven's sake, my dear fellow, be
careful! That man will kill you,.he is the
strongest man in the Transvaal. You are
a fellow to be proud of though.'A HOMERIC COMBAT.	153

' He may try,' said Jeremy laconically,
stripping oft" his coat and waistcoat. ' Will
you hold these for me ?'

' Hold them !' answered the young fellow,
who was a good sort; ' ay, that I will, and
I would give half I have to see you lick
him. Dodge him ; don't let him strike you,
or he will kill you. I saw him stun an ox
once with a blow of his fist.'

Jeremy smiled.

' Stop,' he said. ' Ask that coward, if I
best him, if he will let off that miserable
beggar?' and he pointed to the trembling
Hottentot.

The question was put, and the great man
answered ' Yah, yah !' ironically, and then
expressed his intention of knocking Jeremy
into small pieces in the course of the next
two minutes.

Then they faced one another. The giant
was a trifle over six foot seven high;154	THE WITCHS HEAD.

Jeremy was a trifle under six foot two and
a half, and looked short beside him. Bat
one or two critical observers, looking at the
latter now that he was stripped for the
encounter, shrewdly guessed that the Dutch-
man would have his work cut out. Jeremy
did not, it is true, scale more than fourteen
stone six, but his proportions were perfect.
The great deep chest, the brawny arms, not
very large, but a mass of muscle, the short
strong neck, the quick eye and massive leg,
all bespoke the strength of a young Her-
cules. It was evident too that though he
was so young, and not yet come to his full
power, he was in the most perfect training.
The Boer, on the other hand, was enormous,
but his flesh was somewhat soft. Still,
knowing his feats, the Englishmen present
sighed for their champion, feeling that he
had no chance.

For a moment they stood facing eachA HOMERIC COMBAT.	155

other, then Jeremy made a feint, and, get-
ting in, planted a heavy blow with his left
hand on his adversary's chest. But he was
to pay for it, for next second the Dutchman
got in his right hand, and Jeremy was lifted
clean off his feet, and sent flying backwards
among the crowd. -

The Boers cheered, the giant smiled, and
the Englishmen looked sad. They knew
how it would be.

But Jeremy picked himself up little the
worse. The stroke had struck the muscles
of his chest, and had not hurt him greatly.
As he advanced the gradually-increasing
crowd of Englishmen cheered him warmly,
* and he swore in his heart that he would
justify those cheers or die for it.

It was at this juncture that Ernest and
Mr. Alston came up.

' Good heavens 17 exclaimed the former,
' it is Jeremy.'156	the! witch's head.

Mr. Alston took in the situation at a
glance.

' Don't let him see you, you will put him
off,' he said. ' Get behind me/

Ernest obeyed, overwhelmed. Mr. Alston
shook his head. He recognized that Jeremy
had a poor chance, but he did not say so
to Ernest.

Meanwhile Jeremy came up and faced
the Dutchman. Encouraged by his late
success, presently his adversary struck a
tremendous blow at him. Jeremy dodged,
and next instant succeeded in landing such
a fearful right and, left full on the giant's
face that the latter went reeling backwards.

A yell of frantic excitement arose from
the English portion of the crowd. This
was indeed a David.

The Dutchman soon recovered, however,
and in his turn, rendered more cautious,
kept out of Jeremy's reach, trying to strikeA HOMERIC COMBAT.	157

him down from a distance. For a round
or two no important blow was struck, till
at last a brilliant idea took possession of
the young fellow who had charge of Jeremy's
coat.

' Hit him about the body,' he whispered,
' he's soft.'

Jeremy took the advice, and ne'xt round
succeeded in getting in two or three blows
straight from the shoulder, and every one
of them bruised the huge body sadly, and
made it rather short of wind.

Next round he repeated the same tactics,
receiving himself a stroke on the shoulder
that for a moment rendered his left arm
helpless. Before another second was over,
however, he had his revenge, and the blood
was pouring from his adversary's lips.

And now did the popular excitement on
both sides grow intense, for to the interest
attaching to the encounter was added that158	the witch's head.

of national feeling, which was then at a
high state of tension. Englishmen, Dutch-
men, and a mob of Kafirs veiled and

7 «/

shouted, and each of the former two felt
that the honour of his people was on the
issue. And yet it was an unequal fight.

'I believe that your friend will be a
match for Van Zyl,' said Mr. Alston coolly,
but the flash of his eye belied his coolness ;
'and I tell you what, he's a devilish fine
fellow too.'

At that moment, however, an untoward
thing happened.. The giant struck out his
strongest, and Jeremy could not succeed in
entirely warding off the blow, though he
broke its force. Crashing through his guard
it struck him on the forehead, and for a
moment he dropped senseless. Etis second
rushed up and dashed some water over
him, and in another instant he was on his
legs again; but for the rest of that roundA HOMERIC COMBAT.

159

be contented himself with dodging his ad-
versary's attack, at which the Dutchmen
cheered, thinking that his iron strength
was broken.

Bat presently, when for the sixth time
Jeremy came up with the same quiet look
of determination in his eyes, and, except
that the gaping of the nostrils and the
twitching of the lip showed a certain mea-
sure of distress, looking but little the worse,
they turned with anxiety to examine the
condition of the giant It was not very
promising. He was perspiring profusely,
and his enormous chest was rising and
falling irregularly. Wherever Jeremy's
strokes had fallen, too, a great blue bruise
had risen. It was evident that his con-
dition was the worse of the two, but still
the Boers had little doubt of the issue.
It could not be that the man who had
once for a bet quelled the straggles of a160	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

wild ox, holding it for the space of five
minutes by the horn, could be worsted by
an English lad. So they called oa him to
stop playing with the boy and crush him.

Thus encouraged the giant came on,
striking out with fearful force, but wildly
for he could not box. For thirty seconds
or more Jeremy contented himself with
avoiding the blows, then, seeing an oppor-
tunity, he planted a heavy one on his
adversary's chest. This staggered him and
threw him off his guard, and taking the
offensive, Jeremy dodged in right under
the huge fists, and hit upwards with all
his power. 'Thud, thud!' The sound of
the blows could be heard fifty yards off.
Nor were they without their effect. The
giant staggered, and amidst fearful shouts
and groans fell like an ox struck with a
pole-axe. But it was not over yet. In
another moment he was on his legs again,A HOMERIC COMBAT.	161

and spitting out blood and teeth, came
reeling straight at Jeremy, a fearful and
alarming spectacle. As he came Jeremy
again hit him in the face, but it did not
stop him, and in another second the huge
arms had closed round him and held him
like a vice.

' Not fair ! no holding!' shouted the Eng-
lishmen, but the Boer held on. Indeed he
did more. Putting all his vast strength into
the effort, he strained and tugged, mean-
ing to lift Jeremy up and dash him on the
ground. But lo, amidst frantic shouts from,
the crowd, Jeremy stood firm, moving not
an inch. Whereupon the Boers called out,
saying that he was not a mortal, but a
man possessed with a 'devil. Again the
Dutchman gripped him, and this time suc-
ceeded in lifting him a few inches from
the ground.

' By George, he will throw him next
VOL. II.	M162	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

time,' said Mr. Alston to Ernest, who was
shaking like a leaf with the excitement;
' look, he is turning white, the grip is
choking him.'

And indeed Jeremy was in evil cas£,
for his senses were fast being crushed out
of him in that fearful embrace, and he
was thinking with bitter sorrow that he
must fail after all,, for an Englishman does
not like to be beat even when he has
fought his best. Just then it was, when
things were beginning to swim around him,
that a voice he loved, and which he had
been listening for these many months, rang
in his ears ; whether it was fancy or whether
he really heard it he knew not.

'Remember "Marsh Joe," Jeremy, and
lift him. Don't be beat. For God's sake
lift him !'

Now there was a trick, which I will not
tell you, my reader, but which a famousA HOMERIC COMBAT.	163

Eastern Counties wrestler, known as Marsh
Joe, had. taught to Jeremy. So well had
* he taught him, indeed, that at the age
of seventeen Jeremy had hoisted his teacher
with his own trick.

Just at the moment that Jeremy heard
the voice, the giant shifted his hold a
little, preparatory to making a fresh effort,
and thus enabled his antagonist to fill his
lungs with air. Ernest saw the broad
white chest heave with relief (for by this
time most of the upper clothing of the
combatants had been wrenched away), and
the darkening eye grow bright again, and
he knew that Jeremy had heard him, and
that he would conquer or die where he
was.

And then, lo and behold! just as the
Boer, leisurely enough—feeling that at last
he was master of the situation—prepared
himself for the final struggle,'suddenly the

M 2164	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

Englishman advanced his right leg a few
inches, and with the rapidity of lightning en-
tirely shifted his grip ; and then he gathered
himself for the effort. What mighty reserve
of strength he drew on, who can say; but
Ernest's voice had excited it, and it came
at his call; and he did a thing that few
living men could have done, and the fame
whereof will go down in South Africa from
generation to generation. For the lithe
arms tightened and gripped till they sunk
in almost level with the flesh of his mighty
foe, and then slowly he began to gather
purchase, swaying backwards and forwards.

'Make an end of him! Make an end
of him !' shouted the Boers; but behold,
their champion's eyes are starting from his
blackened face ; he cannot stir.

To and fro sways Jeremy, and now
the giant's feet are lifted from the ground.
And then one mighty effort—oh, gallantA HOMERIC COMBAT.	165

Jeremy!—up, still up above the gasping
of the wonder-stricken crowd, up to his
shoulder—by Heaven, over it !

Crash ! Van Zyl fell, to be carried away
by six strong men, a cripple for life.16.6

the witch's head.

CHAPTER IX.

ernest's love letter.

IEER after cheer arose from the Eng-

lishmen around, and angry curses from
the Dutchmen, as Jeremy turned to look
at the senseless carcass of the giant. But
even as he turned, exhausted nature gave
out, and he fell fainting into Ernest's arms.

Then did selected individuals of his
fellow-countrymen come forward and bear
him reverently to a restaurant called the
' European,' where the proprietor—himself an
old Eton fellow—met him, and washed and
clothed and restored him, and vowed with
tears in his eyes that he, Jeremy, should
live at his expense for as long as he likedernest's love letter.	167

—ay, even if he chose to drink nothing
meaner than champagne all day long. For
thus it is that Englishmen greet one who
ministers to that deepest rooted of all their
feelings, national pride. And then, when at
length he had been brought to, and re-
freshed with a tumbler full of dry Monopole,
and wonderingly shaken Ernest by the
hand, the enthusiasm of the crowd outside
burst its bounds, and they poured into the
restaurant, and seizing Jeremy and the chair
whereon he sat, they bore him in triumph
round the market square, to the tune of God
save the Queen, a proceeding that would
have ended in provoking a riot, had not
an aide-de-camp from His Excellency the
Special Commissioner, who sent a message
begging that they would desist, succeeded in
persuading them to return to the restaurant.
And here they all dined, and forced Jeremy
to drink a great deal more dry Monopole168

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

'than was good for him, with the result that
for the first and last time in his life, he
was persuaded into making an after dinner
speech. As far as it was reported it ran
something like this:

' Dear friends (cheers) and Englishmen,'
(renewed cheers) pause—' all making great
fuss about nothing (cheers and shouts of
No, no!). Fight the Dutchman again to-
morrow—very big but soft as putty—any-
body fight him (frantic cheering). Glad I
wasn't thrashed, as you all seem so pleased.
Don't know why you are pleased. 'Spose
you didn't like the Dutchman. 'Fraid he
hurt himself over my shoulder. Wonder
what he did it for. Sit down now. Dear
friends, dear old Ernest, been looking for
you for long while,' and he turned his
glassy eye on to Ernest, who cheered frantic-
ally, under the impression that Jeremy had
just said something very much to the point.ERNESTS LOVE LETTER.	169

' Sit down now (no, no, go on). Can't go on,
quite pumped—very thirsty too (give him
some more champagne—Open a fresh case).
Wish Eva and Doll were here, don't you ?
(Loud cheers). Gemman, (cheers) no, not
gemman, friends, (louder cheers)—no, not
gemman, friends—English brothers, (yet
louder cheers) I give you a toast. Eva and
Doll, you all know 'em and love 'em, or if
you don't you would, you see, if you did, you
know.' (Frantic outburst of cheering, during
which Jeremy tries to resume his seat, but
gracefully drops on to the floor, and begins
singing 'Auld Lang Syne' under the table,
whereupon the whole company rises, and
with the exception of Ernest and a jovial
member of the Special CommissioJier's Staff,
who get upon the table to lead the chorus,
join hands and sing that beautiful old song
with all the solemnity of intoxication, after
which they drink more champagne^ and170	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

jointly and severally swear eternal friend-
ship, especially Ernest and the member of
His Excellency's Staff, who shake hands
and bless each other, till the warmth of
their emotions proves too much for them,
and they weep in chorus there upon the
table.)

For the rest, Ernest had some vague
recollection of helping to drive his newly-
found friend home in a wheelbarrow, that
would persist in upsetting in every sluit or
ditch, especially if it had running water
in it; and that was about all he did
remember.

In the morning he woke up, or rather first
became conscious of pain in his head, in a
little double-bedded room attached to the
hotel. On the pillow of the bed opposite
to him lay Jeremy's battered face.

For a while Ernest could make nothing
of all this. Why was Jeremy there ?ernest's love letter. 171

Where were they ? Everything turned
round and seemed phantasmagorical; the
only real substantial thing was that awful
pain in the head. But presently things
began to come back to him ; and the sight
of Jeremy's bruised face recalled the fight;
and the fight recalled the dinner; and the
dinner brought back a vague recollection of
Jeremy's speech, and of something he had
said about Eva. What could it have been ?
Ah, Eva! Perhaps Jeremy knew some-
thing about her; perhaps he had brought
the letter that had been so long in coming.
Oh how his heart went out towards her.
But how came Jeremy there in bed before
him; how came he to be in South Africa
at all ?

At that moment his reflections were in-
terrupted by the entry of Mazooku, bearing
the coffee which it is the national habit in
South Africa to drink early in the morning.172	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

The martial-looking Zulu, who seemed
curiously out of place carrying cups of
coffee, seeing that his master was awake,
saluted him with the customary ' Koos,'
lifting one of the cups of coffee to give
emphasis to the word, and nearly upsetting
it in the effort.

' Mazooku,' said Ernest severely, ' how
did we get here ?'

The substance of the retainer's explanation
was as follows : When the moon was getting
low, vanishing indeed, behind the ' horned
house' yonder (the Dutch church with
pinnacles on it), it occurred to him, waiting
on the verandah, that his master must be
weary; and as most had departed from the
' dance ' in the ' tin house' (restaurant)
evidently made happy by the ' twala' (drink),
he entered into the tin house to look for
him, and found him overcome by sleep
under the table, lying next to the ' Lion-ernest's love letter. 173

who - threw- oxen - over - his - shoulder' (i. e.
Jeremy), so overcome by sleep, indeed, that
it was quite impossible to conduct him to
the waggon. This being so, he (Mazooku)
considered what was his duty under the
cumstances, and came to the accurate
conclusion that the best thing to do was to
put them into the white man's bed, since he
knew that his master did not love the floor
to lie on. Accordingly, having discovered
that this was a room of beds, he and
another Zulu entered, but. were perplexed
to find the beds already occupied by two
white men, who had lain down to rest with
their clothes on. But under all these cir-
cumstances he and the other Zulu, con-
sidering that their first thought should be
towards their own master, had taken the
' liberty of lifting up the two white men,
who were slumbering profoundly after the
' dance,' by the head and by the heels, and174	THE WITCHS HEAD.

putting them out in the sweet cool air of
the night. Having thus ' made a place/
thej then conveyed first Ernest, and having
removed his clothes, put him into one bed,
and next, in consideration of his undoubted
greatness, they ventured to take the ' Lion-
who, &c.' himself, and put him in the other.
He was a very great man, the ' Lion,' and
his art of throwing greater men over his

O O

shoulder could ODly be attributed to witch-
craft. He himself (Mazooku) had tried it
on that morning with a Basutu, with whom
he had had a slight difference of opinion,
but the result - had not been all that could
be desired, inasmuch as the Basutu had
kicked him in the stomach, and forced him
to drop him.

Ernest laughed as heartily as his head-
ache would allow at this story, and in doing
so woke up Jeremy, who at once clapped his
hands to his head and looked round, where-ebstest's love letter. 175

upon Mazooku, having saluted the awakened
' lion' with much fervour, and spilt a con-
siderable quantity of hot coffee over him in
doing so, took his departure abashed, and
at length the two friends were left alone.
Thereupon rising from their respective
pallets, they took a step in all the glory of
their undress uniform into the middle of the
little room, and, after the manner of Eng-
lishmen, shook hands and called each other
' old fellow.' Then they went back to bed
and began to converse.

' I say, old fellow, what on earth brought
you out here ?'

' Well, you see, I came out to look you
up. You did not write any letters, and
they began to get anxious about you at
home, so I packed up my duds and started.
Your uncle stands unlimited tin, so I am
travelling like a prince in a waggon of my
own. I heard of you down in Maritzburg,176	tee witch's head.

and guessed that I had beat make for Pre-
toria, and here I am and there you are, and I
am devilish glad to see you again, old chap.
By Jove, what a head I have! But, I say,
why didn't you write ? Doll half broke her
heart about it, and so did your uncle, only
he would not say so.' .

'1 did write. I wrote from Sikukuni's
country, but I suppose the letter did not
fetch/ auswered Ernest, feeling very guilty.
'The feet is, old fellow, I had not the
heart to write much, I have been so con-
foundedly down on my luck ever since that
duel business.'

'Ah!' interposed Jeremy, 'that shot was
a credit to you. I didn't think you could
have done it'

*.A credit! I'll tell you what, it is an
awful thing to kill a man like that. I
often see his face as he fell, at night in my
deep.'i ernest's love letter. 177

' I was merely looking at it as a shot,'
replied Jeremy, innocently; ' and considered
as a shot at twenty paces and under trying
circumstances, it was a credit to you.'

'And then, you see, Jeremy, there was
another 1 thing, you know—about—about
Eva. Well, I wrote to her, and she has
never answered my letter, unless,' with a
gleam of hope, ' you have brought an
answer.''

Jeremy shook his aching head.

'Ah, (no such luck. Well, it put me off,
and that's the fact. Since she has chucked
me up, 11 don't care twopence about any-
thing. 11 don't say but what she is right; I
dare say that I am not worth sticking to.
She caiji do much better elsewhere;' and
Ernest groaned, and realized that his head
was very bad indeed ; ' but there it is. I
hadn't the heart to write any more letters,

and I was too, proud to write again to her.

VOL. II.	N178	THE WITCH'S HEAD. J

Confound her ! let her go. I am pot going -
to grovel to any woman under heaven, no,
not even to her;' and he kicked the bed-
clothes viciously.

' I haven't learnt much Zulu yet,' replied
Jeremy sententiously; ' but I know two
words—" hamba gachle "' (go softly).

' Well, what of them 1' said, Ernest
testily.	:

' They mean, I am told, " take it easy,"
or " look before you leap," or " never jump
to conclusions," or " don't be in a con-
founded hurry;" very fine mottoes, I
think.'	^

' Of course they do ; but what hfjive they
got to do with Eva ?'	i

' Well, just this. I said I had got no
letter. I never said—'

' What ?' shouted Ernest.

' Hamba gachle,' replied Jeremy, the im-
perturbable, gazing at Ernest out of hisernest's love letter. 179

blackened eyes. ' I never said that I had
not got a message.'

Ernest sprang clean out of the little
truckle bed, shaking with excitement.

' What is it, man ?'

' Just this. She told me to tell you that
" she loved you dearly."'

Slowly Ernest sat down on the bed again,
and, throwing a blanket over his head and
shoulders, remarked in a tone befitting a
sheeted ghost—

' The devil she did ! Why couldn't you
say so before ?'

Then he got up again and commenced
walking, blanket and all, up and down the
little room with long strides, and knocking
over the water-jug in his excitement.

' Hamba gachle,' again remarked Jeremy,
rising and picking up the water-jug. ' How
are we going to get any more water 1 I'll
tell you all about it.'

N 21'80	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

And lie did, including the story of Mr.
Plowden's shaking, at which Ernest chuckled
fiercely.

' I wish I had been there to kick him,'
he remarked, parenthetically.

' I did that too, I kicked him hard,'
put in Jeremy, at which Ernest chuckled
again.

' I can't make it all out,' said Ernest at
length, ' but I will go home at once.'

'You can't do that, old fellow. Your
-respected uncle, Sir Hugh, will have you
run in.'

'Ah! I forgot. Well, I will write to
her to-day.'

' That's, better; and now let's dress.
My head is better. By George, though,
I am stiff. It is no joke fighting a
giant.'

But Ernest answered not a word. He
was already, after his quick-brained fashion,ernest's love letter. 181

employed in concocting his letter to
Eva.

In the course of the morning he drafted
it. It, or rather that part of it with
which we need concern ourselves, ran
thus—

' Such then, my dearest Eva, was the
state of my mind towards you. I thought
—God forgive me for the treason—that
perhaps you were, as so many women are,
a fair-weather lover, and that now that I
am in trouble you wished to slip the cable.
If that was so I felt that it was not for
me to remonstrate. I wrote to you, and I
knew that the letter came safely to your
hands. You did not answer it, and I could
only come to one conclusion. Hence my
own silence. And in truth I do not at
this moment quite understand why you
have never written. But Jeremy has
brought me your dear message, and with
that I am content, for no doubt you have
reasons which are satisfactory to yourself,182

THE WITCHS HEAD.

and if that is so, no doubt, too, they would
be equally satisfactory to me if only I knew
them. You see, my heart's love, the fact is
that I trust and believe in you utterly and
entirely. What is right and true, what is
loyal and sincere to me and to yourself—
those are the things that you will do. Jeremy
tells me a rather amusing story about the
new clergyman who has come to Kesterwick,
and who is, it appears, an aspirant for your
hand. Well, Eva, I am sufficiently con-
ceited not to be jealous; although I am in
the unlucky position of an absent man, and
worse still, an absent man under a cloud.
I do not believe that he will cut me out.
But on the day that you can put your
hand upon your heart, and look me straight
in the eyes (ah, Eva, I can see your eyes
, now), and tell me, on your honour as a lady,
that you love this or any other man better
than you do me, on that day I shall be
ready to resign you to him. But till that
day comes—and there is something in my
heart which tells me that it is as impossible
for it to come as for the mountain-rangeernest's loye letter. 183

I look on as I write to move towards
the town and bury it—I am free from
jealousy, for I Jcnoio that it is also im-
possible that you should be faithless to
your love.

' Oh, my sweet, the troth we plighted
was not for days, or years, or times—it was
for ever. Nothing can dissolve it; Death
himself will be powerless against it. With
each new and progressive existence it will
re-arise as surely as the flowers in spring,
only, unlike them, more fragrant and beau-
tiful than before. Sometimes I think that it
has already existed through countless ages.
Strange thoughts come into a man's mind
out there on the great veldt, riding alone
hour after hour, and day after day, through
sunlight and through moonlight, till the
spirit of nature broods upon him, and he
begins to learn the rudiments of truth.
•Some day I shall tell them all to you. Not
that /have ever been quite alone, for I can
say honestly that you have always been at
my side since I left you ; there has been
no hour of the day or night when you184

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

have not been in my thoughts, and I
believe that till death for a period blots
out my senses, no such hour will ever
come.

'Day by day, too, my love has grown
stronger even in its despair. Day by day
it has taken shape and form and colour, and
become more and more a living thing,
more and more an entity, as distinct as
soul and body, and yet as inextricably
blended and woven into the substance of
each. If ever a woman was beloved, you
are that woman, Eva Ceswick ; if ever a
man's life, present and to come, lay in a
woman's hands, my life lies in yours.
It is a germ which you can cast away or
destroy, or which you can nourish till it
bursts into bloom, and bears fruit beau-
tiful beyond imagining. You are my fate,
my other part. With you my destiny
is intertwined, and you can mould it as
you will. There is no height to which
I cannot rise by your side, there is no
depth to which I may not sink without
you.ebnest's love letter. 185

' And now, what does all this lead up to ?
Will you make a sacrifice for me, who am
ready to give all my life to you—no, who
have already given it. That sacrifice is
this. I want you to come out here and
marry me; as you know, circumstances
prevent me from returning to you. If you
will come, I will meet you at the Cape and
marry you there. Ah! surely you will
come! As for money, I have plenty from
home, and can make as much more as
we shall want here, so that need be no
obstacle. It is long to wait for your
answer — three months; but I hope that
the faith that will, as the Bible tells us,
enable people to move mountains—and my
faith in you is as great as that — will
also enable me to bear the suspense, and
in the end prove its own reward. Oh,
how li|e has changed for me since
yesterday!'

Ernest read selected portions of this com-
position to Mr. Alston and Jeremy. Both186	the witch's head.

listened in solemn silence, and at the con-
clusion Jeremy scratched his head and re-
marked that it was deep enough to ' fetch'
any girl, though for his part he did not
understand it. Mr. Alston relit his pipe,
and for a while said nothing; but to
himself he thought that it was a re-
markable letter for so young a man to
have written, and revealed a curious turn
of mind. One remark he did make,
however, and that was rather a rude
one.

' The girl won't understand what you are
driving at, Master Ernest; she will think
that you have gone off your head in these
savage parts. All you say may or may not
be true; on that point I express no opinion
—but to write such things to a woman is
to throw your pearls before swine. You
should ask her about her bonnets, my
boy, and tell her what sort of dresses sheerkest's love letter. 187

should bring out, and that the air is good
for the complexion. She would come
then.'

Here Ernest fired up.

' You are beastly cynical, Alston, and you
should not speak of Miss Ceswick like that
to me. Bonnets indeed !'

' All right, my lad, all right. Time will
show. Ah, you boys! you go building up
your ideals of ivory and gold, and fine
linen, only to find them one day turned
into the commonest of clay, draped in
the dirtiest of rags. Well, well, it is
the way of .the world; but you take
my advice, Ernest, burn that letter, and
go in for an Intombi (Kafir girl). It
is not too late yet, and there is no
mistake about the sort of clay she is
made oV'

Here Ernest stamped out of the room in
a passion.183	the witch's head.

' Too cock-sure, wanted cooling down a
little,' remarked Mr. Alston to Jeremy;
' should never be cock-sure where a woman
is concerned; women are fond of playing
dirty tricks, and saying they could not
help it. I know them. Come on, let us
go and find him, and go for a walk.'

They found Ernest sitting on the box of
the waggon, which was outspanned together
with Jeremy's, just outside the town, and
looking rather sulky.

' Come on, Ernest,' said Mr. Alston,
apologetically, 'I will throw no more mud
at your ideal. In the course of the
last thirty years I have seen so many
fall to pieces of their own accord, that
I could not .help warning you. But
perhaps they make them of better stuff
in England than we do in these
parts.'

Ernest descended, and soon forgot hisERNEil's LOVE LETTER.	189

pique. It was but rarely that lie bore
malice for more than half an hour. As
they walked along one of the by - streets
they met the young fellow w ho had acted
as second to Jeremy in the big fight of
the previous day. He informed them that
he had just been to inquire how the giant
was. It appeared that he had received an
injury to the spine, the effect of Jeremy's
' lift,' from which there was little hope of his
recovery. He was not, however, in much
pain. This intelligence distressed Jeremy
not a little. He had earnestly desired to
thrash the giant, but he had had no wish
to injure him. With his usual prompitude
he announced his intention of going to see
his fallen enemy.

'You are likely to meet with a warm
reception if you do,' said Mr. Alston.

' I'll risk it. I should like to tell him
that I am sorry.'190	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

'Very good; come along, that is the
house.'

The injured man had been carried to
the house of a relative just outside the
town, a white thatched building, that had
been built five-and-thirty years before,
when the site of Pretoria was a plain
inhabited only by quaggas, eland, and
vilderbeeste. In front of the door was
a grove of orange - trees, which smelt
sweet, and looked golden with hanging
fruit.

The house itself was a small white build-
ing, with a double swinging door, like
those used in stables in this country. The
top half of the door was open, and over
the lower portion of it leaned a Boer, a
rough-looking customer, smoking a huge
pipe.

' " Dagh, Oom "' (good-day, uncle), said
Mr. Alston, stretching out his hand.ernest's love letter. 191

The other looked at him suspiciously, and
then held out a damp paw to each in turn, at
the same time opening the door. As Ernest
passed the threshold he noticed that the
clay flooring was studded with peach-stones
well trodden in to its substance to prevent
wear and tear of passing feet. The door
opened into a fair-sized room, with white-
washed walls, called the ' sit-kame' (sitting-
room), and furnished with a settee, a table,
and several chairs seated with 'rimpi,' or
strips of hide. On the biggest of these
chairs sat a woman of large size, the mother
of the family. She did not rise on their
entry, but without speaking held out a
limp hand, which Mr. Alston and the others
shook, addressing her affectionately as
'tanta' (aunt). Then they shook hands
with six or seven girls and young men,
the, latter sitting about in an aimless sort
of way, the former clearing off the remains192	the witch's head.

of the family meal, which had consisted of
huge bones of boiled fresh beef. So fresh
was it, indeed, that on the floor by the
side of the table lay the gory head and
skin of a newly-killed ox, from which the
beef had been. cut. Ernest noticing this,
wondered at the superhuman strength of
stomach that could take its food under
such circumstances.

The preliminary ceremony of hand-shak-
ing having been got through, Mr. Alston-
who spoke Dutch perfectty, expY&ined the
object of their visit. The faces of tbe
Dutchmen darkened as he did go, and the
men scowled at Jeremy with hatred not
unmingled with terror. When he had
done, the oldest man said that he would
ask his cousin if he would see them, add-
ing, however, that he was so ill that he
did not think it likely. Raising a curtain
which served as a door, he passed fromERNEST'S LOVE LETTER.	193

the sitting-room into the bed-room, ' slaap
kame.' Presently he returned, and beckoned
to the Englishmen to enter. They passed
into a small chamber about ten feet square,
which was, after the fashion of these people
in cases of any illness, hermetically sealed
from air. On a large bed, that blocked up
most of the room, and on which it was the
usual habit of the master of the house arid
his wife to sleep in their clothes, lay the
fcUen giant. So much as could be seen of
his face ■ as a mass of hideous bruises,
and one of his hands, which lay on the
bed, was n splints. The chief injury,
however, Was to his back, and from this
he could never expect to recover. By
his side sat his little wife, who had on
the previous day urged the thrashing of
the Hottentot. She glared fiercely at
Jeremy, but said nothing. On catching
sight of his victor, the giant turned his

VOL. II.	0194	the witch's head.

face to the wall and asked what he
wanted.

' I have come,' said Jeremy, Mr. Alston
interpreting for him, ' to say that I am
sorry that you are injured so much, that
I wanted to beat you, but had no idea that
I should hurt you so. I know that the
trick of throwing a man as I threw you is
very dangerous, and I only used it as a last
resource, and because you would have killed
me if I had not.'

The Boer muttered something in reply
about its being very bitter to be beaten by
such a little man.

It was evident to Ernest that the man's
pride was utterly broken. He had believed
himself the strongest man, white or black,
in Africa, and now an English lad had
thrown him over his shoulder like a play-
thing.

, Jeremy next said that he hoped thateknest's love letter. 195

he bore no malice, and would shake
hands.

The giant hesitated a little, and then
stretched out his uninjured hand, which
Jeremy took.

' Englishman,' he said,! you are a wonder-
ful man, and you will grow stronger yet.
You have made a baby of me for life, and
turned my heart to a baby's too. Perhaps one
day some man will do the same for you. Till
then you can never know what I feel. They
will give you the Hottentot outside. No,
you must take him; you won him in fair
, fight. He is a good driver, though he is
so small. Now go.'

The sight was a painful one, and they
were not sorry to get away from it. Outside
they found one of the young Boers waiting
with the Hottentot boy, whom he insisted
on handing over to Jeremy.

Any scruples the latter had about accept-

?	o a.196	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

ing him were overcome by the look of
intense satisfaction on the features of the
poor wretch himself.

His name was ' Aasvogel' (vulture), and
he made Jeremy an excellent and most
faithful servant.A WAY OF ESCAPE.

197

CHAPTER X.

A WAY OP ESCAPE.

"^^"HEN Mr. Alston, Jeremy, and Ernest
emerged from the back street in
which was the house they had visited
into one of the principal thoroughfares of
Pretoria, they came upon a curious sight.
In the middle of the street stood or rather
danced a wiry Zulu, dressed in an old
military great-coat, and the ordinary native'
'moocha,' or scanty kilt, and having a red
worsted comforter tied round one arm. He
was shouting out something at the top of
his voice, and surrounded by a crowd of
other natives, who at intervals expressed198	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

their approval of what lie was saying • in
deep, guttural exclamations.

' What is that lunatic after ?' asked
Jeremy.

Mr. Alston listened for a minute, and
answered,

'I know the man well. His name is
Goza. He is the fleetest runner in Natal,
and can go as fast as a horse; indeed, there
are few horses that he cannot tire out. By
profession he is a "praiser." He is now
singing the praises of the Special Com-
missioner, " bongering " they call it. I will
translate what he is saying.

'" Listen to the foot of the great elephant
Somptseu. Feel how the earth shakes
beneath the tread of the white t'Chaka,
father of the Zulus, foremost among the
great white people. Ou! he is here; ou ! he
is coming. See how the faces of the
' Amaboona' (the Boers) turn pale beforeA WAY OF ESCAPE.	199

him. He will eat / them up ; he will swallow
them, the huge Vulture, who sits still till
the ox is dead, w ho fights the fight of ' sit
down.' Oh, he is great, the lion ; where he
turns his eye the people melt away, their
hearts turn to fat. Where is there one like
Somptseu, the man who is not afraid of
Death; who looks at Death and it runs from
him; who has the tongue of honey; who
reigns like t/he first star at night; who is
beloved and honoured of the great white
mother (the Queen); who loves his children,
the Amazulu, and shelters them under his
wide wing ; who lifted Cetywayo out of the
dirt, and can put him back in the dirt again ?
Abase yourselves, you low people, doctor
yourselves with medicine, lest his fierce eyes
should burn you up. Oh, hark! he comes,
the father of kings, the Chaka; oh! be still;
oh ! be silent, oh ! shake in your knees. He
is here, the elephant, the lion, the fierce one,200	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

the patient one, the string one. See, lie
deigns to talk to little children ; he teaches
them wisdom ; he gives light like the sun—
he is the sun—he is t'Somptseu.'

At this juncture a quiet-looking, oldish
gentleman, entirely unlike either an elephant,
a lion, or a vulture, of medium height, with
grey whiskers, a black coat;, and a neat
black tie fastened in a bow, came round the
corner leading a little girl by the hand.
As he came the praiser lifted ^p his tight
hand, and in the most stentorian tones gave
the royal salute, ' Bayete,' which was re-
echoed by all the other natives.'

The oldish gentleman, who was hone other
than the Special Commissioner \ himself,
turned upon his extoller with a look of
intense annoyance, and addressed him very
sharply in Zulu.	1

' Be still,' he said. ' Why do you always
annoy me with your noise ? Be still, I say,A WAY OF ESCAPE. . 201

you loud-tongued dog, or I will send you
back to Natal. My head aches with your
empty words.'

'Oh, elephant! I am silent as the dead.
Bayfete. Oh, Somptseu! I am quiet,
" Bay&te."'

' Go. Begone.'

With a final shout of Bayfete the Zulu
turned and fled down the street with the
swiftness of the wind, shouting his praises
as he went.

' How do you do, sir ?' said Mr. Alston,
advancing. ' I was just coming up to call
upon you.'

'Ah, Alston, I am delighted to see you.
I heard that you were gone on a hunting
trip. Given up work and taken to hunting,
eh? Well, I should like to do the same. If
I could have found you when I came up
here, I should have been tempted to ask
you to come with us.'202	the witch's head.

At this point Mr. Alston, introduced
Ernest and Jeremy. The Special Commis-
sioner shook hands with them.

' I have heard of you,' he said to Jeremy;
' but I must ask you not to fight any more
giants here just at present, the tension be-
tween Boer and Englishman is too great to
allow of its being stretched any more. Do
you know, you nearly provoked an outbreak
last night with your fighting. I trust that
you will not do it again.'

He spoke rather severely, and Jeremy
coloured. Presently, however, he made
amends by asking them all to dinner.

On the following morning Ernest sent off
his letter to Eva. He also wrote to his
uncle and to Dorothy, explaining his long
silence as best he could. The latter, too, he
for the first time took into his confidence
about Eva. At a distance he no longer felt
the same shyness in speaking to her about|	A WAY OF ESCAPE.	' 203

anctner woman that had always over-
powered him when he was by her side.

Kow that he had been away from England
for | a year or so, many things connected
withi his home life had grown rather faint
amiqlst the daily change and activity of his
new life. The rush of fresh impressions
had to a great extent overlaid the old ones,
and | Dorothy, and Mr. Cardus, and all the
old Kesterwick existence and surroundings
seemted faint and far away. They were
indeed rapidly assuming that unreality
that ijin time the wanderer finds will gather
roundj his old associations. He feels that
they ' know him no more, very likely he
imagines that they have forgotten him, and
so thety become like the shades of the dead.
It is almost a shock to such a one to come
back land find, after an absence of many
years, i that though he has been living his
rapid, * vigorous life, and storing his time204	the witch's head.

with many acts good, bad, and indifferent,
though he thinks that he has chano-ed: so
completely, and developed greatly in one
direction or another, yet the old spots,(the
old familiar surroundings, and the old s\jveet
faces have changed hardly one whit. Ti'hey
have been living their quiet English life, in
which sensation, incident, and excitement' are
things unfamiliar, and have varied not aJ5 all.

Most people, as a matter of fact, ch ange
very little except in so far as they; are
influenced by the cyclic variations of /their
life, the passage from youth to maturity,
and from maturity to age, and the attend-
ant modes of thought and action befitting
each period. But even then the change is
superficial rather than real. Whalj; the
child is, that the middle-aged persoiji and
the old man will be also. The reasjon of
this appears to be sufficiently obvious; the
unchanging personality that grows nq<t old,A WAY OF ESCAPE.	205

the animating spiritual ' ego,' is there and
practically identical, at all periods of life.

The body, the brain, and the subtler
intellect may all vary according to the
circumstances, mostly physical, of personal
existence; but the effect that the passage
of a few years, more or less active or stormy,
can produce upon a principle so indestruc-
tible, so immeasurably ancient, and the
inheritor of so far-reaching a destiny as the
individual human soul, surely must be small.

Already Ernest began to find it some-
thing of a labour to indite epistles to people
in Inglmtfl] and yet he had the pen of a
ready writer* The that bound them
together were "fast breaking loose. Eva,
and Eva alone, remained clear and real to
the vision of his mind. She was always
with him, and to her, at any period of his
life, he never found difficulty in writing.
For jn truth their very natures were inter-206	the witch's head.

woven, and the rapport between them was
not produced merely by the pressure of exter-
nal circumstances, or by the fact of continual
contact and mutual attraction arising from
physical causes, such as the natural leaning
of youth to youth and beauty to beauty.

These causes no doubt had to do with
its production, and perhaps were necessary
to its mundane birth, as the battery is
necessaty to the creation of the electric
spark. Thus, had Eva been old instead
of a young and lovely girl, the rapport
would perhaps never have come into
being here. In short, they formed the
cable along which the occult communication
could pass, but there their function ended.
Having once established that communica-
tion, and provided a means by which the
fusion of spirit could be effected, youth and
beauty and the natural attraction of sex to
sex had done their part The great divid-A WAY OF ESCAPE.	207

tliei'iver that rolls so fast and wide between
pra( souls in their human shape had been
w passed, and the two fortunate travellers
inte\jbeen allowed before their time to reap
circdmtages—the measureless advantage of
exis.t|ove, so rare on earth, and at its best
of a lined by passion ; the divine privilege
can jiTering for that love's sake that will
tible,- such endless blessings in its train,

inheril will only come to most of us, and

i

indivyperhaps imperfectly, in a different

Air. to this.

il

thing |\ the bridge might now be broken
in Enhit had served its purpose. Come
ready: tjloss of physical attraction, or separa-
togethjpjd icy silence, or the change called
and Ejitself, and the souls thus subtly
the vis can and will and do defy them,
with h 1 real life is not here; here only is
life, heajd beginning of things, maybe the
For in ire beginning.208	the witch's head.

And so Ernest posted his letters, and
then, partly to employ his thoughts, and
partly because it was his nature to t hrow
himself into whatever stream of life was
flowing past him, he set himself to master
the state of political affairs in the country
in which he found himself.

This need not be entered into here, f urther
than to say that it was such as migh t with
advantage have employed wiser head s than
his, and indeed did employ them. Suffice
it to say, that he contrived to make Mmself
of considerable use to the English party,
both before and after the annexation of the
Transvaal to the dominions of the Crown.
Amongst other things he went on several
missions in conjunction with Mr. Alston,
with a view of ascertaining the real state of
feeling among the Boers. He also, together
with Jeremy, joined a volunteer corps which
was organized for the defence of PretoriaA WAY OF ESCAPE.	209

when it was still a matter of doubt whether
or not the contemplated annexation would
or w ould not result in an attack being made
upon the town by the Boers. It was a most
exciting time, and once or twice Ernest
and Jeremy had narrow escapes of being
murdered. However, nothing worthy of
note happened to them, and at last the
long-expected annexation came off success-
fully, to the intense joy of all the English-
men iif the country, and to the great relief
of the vast majority of the Boers.

Now, together with the proclamation by
which the Transvaal was annexed to Her
Majesty's dominions, was issued another
that was to have a considerable bearing
upon our hero's fortunes. This was none
other than a promise of Her Majesty's
gracious pardon to all such as had been
. resident in the Transvaal for a period of six

idonths previous to the date of annexation,

VOL. II.	P210	THE WITCH'S HEAT).

being former British subjects and offenders
against the English criminal law, who
would register their name and ofsnce
within a given time. The object of this
proclamation was to give immunity from
prosecution to many individuals formerly
deserters from the English army, and other
people who had in some way transgressed
the laws, but were now occupying respect-
able positions in their adopted country.

Mr. Alston read this proclamation (atten-
tively when it came out in a special number
of the Gazette. Then, after thinking for a
while, he handed it to Ernest.

'You have read this amnesty proclama-
tion %9 he said.

c Yes,' answered Ernest; * what of it ? '
' What of it! Ah, the stupidity of youth !
Go'down, go down on your knees, young
man, and render thanks to the Power that
inspired Lord Carnarvon with the idea ofA WAY OP ESCAPE.

211

annexing the Transvaal. Can't you very
well see that it takes your neck out of the
halter? Off with you and register your
name and offence with the secretary to
Government, and you will be clear for ever
from any consequences that might ensue
from the slight indiscretion of shooting your
own first cousin.'

' By Jove, Alston, you don't mean that ?'

'Mean it! of course I do. The proclama-
tion does not specify any particular offence
to which pardon is to be denied, and
you have lived more than six months on
Transvaal territory. Off you go.'

And Ernest went like an arrow.

p a212	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

CHAPTER XI.

FOUND WANTING.

RNEST reached the Government office

course received 'Her Majesty's gracious
pardon and indemnity from and against all
actions, proceedings, and prosecutions at
law, having arisen, arising, or to arise, by
whomsoever undertaken, &e. &c., conveyed
through His Excellency, the Administrator
of our said territory of the Transvaal.'

When this precious document was in his
pocket, Ernest thought that he now for the
first time fully realized what the feelings of
a slave unexpectedly manumitted must be.
Had it not been for this fortunate accident,

and registered his name, and in duePOUND WANTING.

213

the consequences of that fatal duel must
have continually overshadowed him. He
would, had he returned to England, have
been liable at any period of his life to a
prosecution for murder. Indeed, the arm
of the law is long, and he lived in continual
apprehension of an application for his ex-
tradition being made to the authorities of
whatever country he was in. But now all
this was gone from him, and he felt that he
would not be afraid to have words with an
attorney-general, or shudder any more at
the sight of a policeman.

His first idea on getting his pardon was
to return straightway to England, but that
silent fate which directs men's lives, driving
them whither they would not, and forcing
their bare and bleeding feet to stumble along
the stony paths of its bidden purpose, came
into his mind, and made him see that it would
be better to delay a while. In a few weeks214

THE WITCH'S HEA1).

Eva's answer would surely reach him; if he
were to go now it was even possible that he
might pass her in mid ocean, for in his heart
he never doubted but that she would come.

And indeed the very next mail there
came a letter from Dorothy, written in
answer to that which he had posted on the
same day that he had written to Eva. It
was only a short letter: the last post that
eould catch the mail was just going out, and
his welcome letter had only just arrived;
but she had twenty minutes, and she would
send one line. She told him how grateful
they were to hear that he was well and
safe, and reproached him gently for not
writing. Then she thanked him for making
her his confidante about Eva Ceswick. She
had guessed it long before, she said, and she
thought they were both lucky in each other,
and hoped and prayed that when the time
came they would be as completely happyFOUND WANTING.	215

as it was possible for people to be. She
had never spoken to Eva about him, but she
should no longer feel auy diffidence in doing
so now ; she should go and see her very soon,
and plead his cause." Not that it wanted
any pleading, however, she was sure of that.
Eva looked sad now that he was gone.
There had been some talk a while back of
Mr. Plowden, the new clergyman, but she
supposed that Eva had given him his
quietus, as she heard no more of it now;
and so on, till the ' postman is at the door
waiting for this letter.'

Little did Ernest guess what it cost poor
Dorothy to write her congratulations and
wishes of happiness. A man—the nobler
animal, remember—could hardly have done
it; only the inferior woman would show
such unselfishness.

This letter filled Ernest with a sure and
certain hope. Eva, he clearly saw, had not216	the witch's head.

had time to write by that mail. By the
next her answer would come. It can be
imagined that he waited for its advent with
some anxiety.

Mr. Alston, Ernest, and Jeremy had taken
a house in Pretoria, and for the past month
or two had been living in it very comfort-
ably. It was a pleasant, one-storied house,
with a verandah and a patch of flower-
garden in front of it, in which grew a large
gardenia bush covered with hundreds of
sweet-scented blooms, and many rose trees,
that in the divine climate of Pretoria flourish
like thistles in our own. Beyond the
flowers was a patch of vines, covered
at this season of the year with enormous
bunches of grapes, extending down to the
line of waving willow trees, interspersed
with clumps of bamboo that grew along
the edge of the sluit and kept the house
private from the road. On the other sideFOUND WANTING.	217

of the narrow path which led to the gate
was a bed of melons, now rapidly coming
to perfection. This garden was Ernest's
especial pride and occupation, and just then
he was much troubled in his mind about
the melons, which were getting scorched
by the bright rays of the sun. To obviate
this he had designed cunning frameworks
of little willow twigs, which he stuck over
the melons and covered with dry grass—
' parasols' he called them.

One morning—it was a particularly lovely
morning—Ernest was standing after break-
fast on this path smoking, and directing
Mazooku as to the erection of his ' parasols'
over his favourite melons. It was not a job
at all suited to the capacity of the great
Zulu, whose assegai stuck in the ground
behind him in the middle of a small bundle
of knob-sticks seemed a tool curiously unlike
those used by gardeners of other lands.218	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

However, ' needs must when the devil
drives,' and there was the brawny fellow
on his knees, puffing and blowing and
trying to fix the tuft of .grass to Ernest's
satisfaction.

' Mazooku, you lazy hound,' said the latter
at last, ' if you don't put that tuft right in
two shakes, by the heaven you will never
reach, I'll break your head with your own
kerrie.'

' Ow Inkoos,' replied the Zulu sulkily,
again trying to prop up the tuft, and
muttering to himself meanwhile.

' Do you catch what that fellow of yours
is saying?' asked Mr. Alston. 'He is saying
that all Englishmen are mad, and that you
are the maddest of the mad. He considers
that nobody who was not a lunatic would
bother his head with those " weeds that
stink " (flowers), or these fruits which, even if
you succeed in growing them,—and surelyFOUND WANTING.	219

the tilings are bewitched, or they would
grow without "hats"' (Ernest's parasols),
—' must lie very cold on the stomach.'

At that moment the particular 'hat'
which Mazooku was trying to arrange fell
down again, whereupon the Zulu's patience
gave out, and cursing it for a witch in
the most vigorous language, he emphasized
his words by bringing his fist straight

•V

down on the melon, smashing it to pieces.
Whereupon Ernest made for him, and he
vanished swiftly.

Mr. Alston stood by laughing at the
scene, and awaited Ernest's return. Pre-
sently he came strolling back, not having
caught Mazooku. Indeed it would not
have greatly mattered if he had, for, as that
swarthy gentleman very well knew, great
indeed must be the provocation that could
induce Ernest to touch a native. It was a
thing to which he had an almost unconquer-220	the witch's head.

able aversion, in the same way that he
objected to the word ' nigger' as applied to
a people who, whatever their faults may be,
are as a rule gentlemen in the truest sense
of the word.

As he came strolling down the path
towards him, his face a little flushed with
the exertion, Mr. Alston thought to himself
that Ernest was growing into a very hand-
some fellow. The tall frame, narrow at the
waist and broad at the shoulders, the
eloquent dark eyes, which so far surpass the
loveliest grey or blue, the silken hair which
curled over his head like that on a Grecian
statue, the curved lips, the quick intelligence
and kindly smile that lit the whole face, all
these things helped to make his appearance
not so much handsome as charming, and to
■women captivating to a dangerous extent.
His dress too, which consisted of riding
breeches, boots and spurs, a white waistcoatFOUND WANTING.	221

and linen coat, with a very broad soft felt
liat looped up at one side, so as to throw
the face into alternate light and shadow,
helped the general effect considerably.
Altogether Ernest was a pretty fellow in
those days.

Jeremy was lounging on an easy-chair
in the verandah, in company with the boy
Roger Alston, and intensely interested in
watching a furious battle between two lines
of ants, black and red, who had their homes
somewhere in the stonework. For a long
while the issue of the battle remained
doubtful, victory inclining if anything to the
side of the thin red line, when suddenly
from the entrance to the nest of the black
ants there emerged a battalion of giants,
great fellows at least six times the size of
the others, who fell upon the red ants and
routed them, taking many prisoners. Then
followed the most curious spectacle, namely, '•222

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

the deliberate execution of the captive red
ants, by having their -heads bitten off by
the great black soldiers. Jeremy ' and
Roger knew what was coming very well, for
these battles were of frequent occurrence, and
the casualties among the red ants simply
frightful. On this occasion they determined
to save the prisoners, which was effected by
dipping a match in some of the nicotine at
the bottom of a pipe, and placing it in front
of the black giants. The ferocious insects
would thereupon abandon their captives, and
rushing at the strange intruder, hang on
like bull-dogs till the poison did its work,
and they dropped off senseless, to recover
presently and stagger off home, holding their
legs to their antennae and exhibiting every
other symptom of frightful headache.

Jeremy was sitting on a chair oiling the
matches, and Roger, kneeling on the pave-
ment, was employed in beguiling the giantsFOUND WANTING.

223

into biting them, when suddenly they heard
the sound of galloping horses and the rattle
of wheels. The lad, lowering his head still
i more, looked out towards the market square
through a gap between the willow stems.

' Hurrah, Mr. Jones,' he said,f here comes
the mail.'

Next minute, amid loud blasts from the
bugle, and enveloped in a cloud of dust, the
heavy cart, to the sides and seats of which
the begrimed, worn-out passengers were
clinging like drowning men to straws, came
rattling along as fast as the six greys
reserved for the last stage could gallop,
and vanished towards the post-office.

' There's the mail, Ernest,' holloaed
Jeremy;' she will bring the English letters.'

Ernest nodded, turned a little pale, and
nervously knocked out his pipe. No
wonder; that mail-cart carried his destiny,
and he knew it. Presently he walked across224	THE WITCH'S HEAD.

the square to the Post-office. The lettere
were not sorted, and he was the first person
there. Very soon one of his Excellency's
staff came riding down to get the Govern-
ment house bag. It was the same gentle-
man with whom he had sung ' Auld lang
syne' so enthusiastically on the day of
Jeremy's encounter with the giant, and
had afterwards been wheeled home in the
wheel-barrow.

' Hullo, Kershaw, here we are, " primos
inter omnes," "primos primi primores," which
is it? Come, Kershaw, you are the last
from school—which is it ? I don't believe
you know, ha! ha! ha! What are you doing
down here so soon ? Does the " expectant
swain await the postman's knock 1" Why,
my dear fellow, you look pale, you must be
in love, or thirsty. So am I,—the latter, not
the former. Love, I do abjure thee.
" Quia separabit," who will have a split ? IFOUND WANTING.	225

think that the sun can't be far from
the line. Shall we, my dear Kershaw, shall
we take an observation ? Ha ! ha ! ha !'

' No, thank you, I never drink anything
between meals.'

'Ah, my boy, a bad habit; give it up
before it is too late. Break it off, my dear
Kershaw, and always wet your whistle in
the strictest moderation, or you will die
young. What says the poet,—

f< He who drinks strong beer and goes to bed irellow,
Lives as he ought to live, lives as he ought to live,
Lives as he ought .to live, and dies a jolly good fellow."

Byron, I think, is it not ? ha ! ha ! ha !'

Just then some others came up, and,

somewhat to Ernest's relief, his friend turned

the light of his kindly countenance to shine

elsewhere and left him to his thoughts.

At last the. little shutter of the post-

.office was thrown up, and Ernest got his

own letters, together with those of Mr.
VOL. II.	Q226	the witch's head.

Alston and Jeremy. He turned into the
shade of a neighbouring verandah, and
rapidly sorted the pile. There was no
letter in Eva's handwriting. But there was
one in that of her sister Florence. Ernest
knew the writing well; there was no
mistaking its peculiar upright, powerful-
looking characters. This he opened
hurriedly. Enclosed in the letter was
a note, which was in the writing he had
expected to see. He rapidly unfolded it,
and as he did so a flash of fear passed
through his brain.

' Why did she write in this way ?'

The note could not have been a lonw

o

one, for in another minute it was lying on
the ground, and Ernest, pale-faced, and
with catching breath, was clinging to the
verandah post with both hands to save
himself from falling. In a few seconds he
recovered, and picking up the note, walkedPOUND WANTING.'	227

quickly across the square towards his house.

Half-way across he was overtaken by his

friend on the Staff cantering gaily along on

a particularly wooden-looking pony, from

the sides of which his legs projected widely,

and waving in one hand the Colonial Office

bag addressed to the administrator of the

Government.

' Hullo, my abstemious friend,' he holloaed

as he pulled up the wooden pony with a

jerk that sent each of its stiff legs sprawling

in a different direction. ' Was patience

rewarded ? Is Chloe over the water kind ?

If not, take my advice, and don't trouble

your head about her. Quant on a pas ce

qu'on aime, the wise man aimes ce qu'il a.

Kershaw, I have conceived a great affection

for you, and I will let you into a secret.

Come with me this afternoon, and I will

introduce you to two charming specimens of

indigenous beauty. Like roses they bloom

Q 2228	the witch's head.

upon the Veldt, and waste their sweetness
on the desert air. Matre pulchra, puella
pulcherrima, as Yirgil says. I, as befits my
years, will attach myself to the mater, for
your sweet youth shall be reserved the
puella. Ha ! ha ! ha !' and he brought the
despatch bag down with a sounding whack
between the ears of the wooden pony, with
the result that he was nearly sent flying
into the sluit, being landed by a sudden
plunge well on to the animal's crupper.

' Woho ! Bucephalus, woho ! or your
mealies shall be cut off.' Just then he for
the first time caught sight of the face of
his companion, who was plodding along in
silence by his side.

' Hullo ! what's up, Kershaw ?' he said
in an altered tone; ' you don't look well.
Nothing wrong, I hope ?'

' Nothing, nothing,' answered Ernest
quietly; ' that is, I have got some badPOUND "WANTING.	229

news, that is all. Nothing to speak of,
nothing.'

' My dear fellow, I am so sorry, and I
have been troubling you with my nonsense.
Forgive me. There, you wish to be alone.
Good-bye.'

■ A few seconds later Mr. Alston and
Jeremy, from their point of vantage on the
verandah, saw Ernest coming with swift
strides up the garden patb. His face was
drawn with pain, and there was a fleck
of blood upon his lip. He passed them
without a word, and entering the house,
slammed the door of his own room. Mr.
Alston and Jeremy looked at one another.

' What's up ?' said the laconic Jeremy.

Mr. Alston thought a while before he
answered, as was his fashion.

' Something gone wrong with " the ideal,"
I should say,' he said at length, ' that is the
way of ideals.'230	the witch's head.

' Shall we go and see ?' said Jeremy
uneasily.

' No, give him a minute or two to pull
himself together. Lots of time for con-
solation afterwards.'

Meanwhile Ernest, having got into his
room, sat down upon the bed, and again
read the note which was inclosed in
Florence's letter. Then he folded it up
and put it down, slowly and methodically.
Next he opened the other letter, which he
had not yet looked at, and read that too.
After he had done it he threw himself face
downwards on the pillow and thought
awhile. Presently he arose, and going to
the other side of the room, took down a
revolver case which hung to a nail, and drew
out the revolver which was loaded. Return-
ing, he again sat down upon the bed and
cocked it. So he remained for a minute
or two, and then slowly lifted the pistolFOUND WANTING.	231

towards his head. At that moment he
heard footsteps approaching, and with a
quick movement threw the weapon under
the bed. As lie did so Mr. Alston and
Jeremy entered.

' Any letters, Ernest ?' asked the former.

' Letters ! Oh, yes, I beg your pardon ;
here they are,' and he took a packet from
the pocket of his white coat and handed
them to him.

Mr. Alston took them, looking all the
while fixedly at Ernest, who avoided his
glance.

' What is the matter, my boy ?' he said
kindly at last; ' nothing wrong, I hope ?'

Ernest looked at him blankly.

' What is it, old chap V said Jeremy, seat-
ing himself on the bed beside him, and
laying his hand on his arm.

Then Ernest broke out into a paroxysm
of grief painful to behold. Fortunately for232	the witch's head.

all concerned it was brief. Had it lasted
much longer something must have given
way. Suddenly his mood changed, and he
grew hard and bitter.

' Nothing, my dear fellows, nothing,' he
said; ' that is, only the sequel to a pretty
little idyll. You may remember a letter I
wrote—to a woman—some months back.
There, you both of you know the story.
Now you shall hear the answer, or, to be
more correct, the answers.

'That—woman has a sister. Both she
and her sister have written to me. My—
her sister's letter is the longest. We will
take it first. I think that we may skip the
first page, there is nothing particular in
it, and I do not wish to—waste your time.
Now listen.

' " By the way, I have a piece of news for
you which will interest you, and which you
will I am sure be glad to hear; for of courseFOUND WANTING.

233

you will have by this time got over any
little tendresse you may have had in
that direction. Eva" (that is the woman
to whom I wrote, and to whom I thought I
was engaged) " is going to be married to a
Mr. Plowden, a gentleman who has been
acting as locum tenens for Mr. Halford."'
Here Jeremy sprang up and swore a great
oath. Ernest motioned him down and went
on. '" I say I am certain that you will be
glad to hear this, because the match is in
every respect a satisfactory one, and will, I
am sure, bring dear Eva happiness. Mr.
Plowden is well off, and, of course, a clergy-
man, two great guarantees for the success
of their matrimonial venture. Eva tells me
that Ipl had a letter from you last mail"
(th^fSfcer I read you, gentlemen), "and
askJfjiileto thank you for it. If she can find
time she will send you a line shortly. But,
as you will understand, she has her hands
very full just at present. The wedding is
to take place at Kesterwick Church, on the
17th of May" (that is to-morrow, gentle-
men), " and if this letter reaches you in time,234

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

I am sure that you will think of us all on
that day. It will be very quiet, owing to
our dear aunt's death being still so compara-
tively recent. Indeed the engagement has,
in obedience to Mr. Plowden's wishes, for
he is very retiring, been kept quite secret,
and you are absolutely the first person to
whom it has been announced. I hope that
you will feel duly flattered, sir. We are
very busy about the trousseau, and just
now the burning question is, of what colour
the dress in which Eva is to go away in
after the wedding shall be. Eva and I are
all for grey. Mr. Plowden is for olive
green, and, as is natural under the circum-
stances, I expect that he will carry the day.
They are together in the drawing-room
settling it now. You always admired Eva
(rather warmly once; do you remember how
cut up you both were when you went
away? Alas for the fickleness of human
nature!); you should see her now. Her
happiness makes her look lovely. But I
hear her calling me. No doubt they have
settled the momentous question. Good-bye.found wanting.

235

I am not clever at writing, but I hope that
my news will make up for my want of
skill.

" Always yours,

"Florence Ceswick."

' Now for the enclosure,' said Ernest.

'" Dear Ernest,

' " I got your letter. Florence will
tell you what there is to tell. I am going
to be married. Think what you will of me ;
I cannot help myself. Believe me this has
cost me great suffering, but my duty seems
clear. I hope that you will forget me,
Ernest, as henceforth it will be my duty to
forget you. Good-bye, my dear Ernest, oh,
good-bye. E."'

' Humph,' murmured Mr. Alston beneath
his breath, ' as I thought, clay, and damned
bad clay too.'

Slowly Ernest tore the letter into small
fragments, threw them down, and stamped236	the witch's head.

upon, them with his foot as though they
were a living thing.

' I wish that I had shaken the life out of
that devil of a parson,' groaned Jeremy,
who was in his way as much affected by
the news as his friend.

' Curse you,' said Ernest, turning on him
fiercely, 'why didn't you stop where you
were and look after her, instead of coming
humbugging after me ?'

Jeremy only groaned by way of answer.
Mr. Alston, as was his way when perplexed,
filled his pipe and lit it. Ernest paced
swiftly up and down the little room, the
white walls of which he had decorated with
pictures cut from illustrated papers, Christ-
mas cards, and photographs. Over the
head of the bed was a photograph of Eva
herself, which he had had framed in some
beautiful native wood. He reached it down.

' Look,' he said, ■' that is the lady herself.FOUND WANTING.	237

Handsome, isn't she, and pleasant to look
on ? Who would have thought that she
was such a devil! Tells me to forget her,
and talks about "her duty." Women love
a little joke.'

He hurled the photograph on to the floor,
and treated it as he had treated the letter,
grinding it to pieces with his heel.

' They say,' he went on, ' that a man's
curses are sometimes heard wherever it is
they arrange these pleasant surprises for us.
Now you fellows bear witness to what I say,
and watch that woman's life. I curse her
before God and man. May she lay down her
head in sorrow night by night, and year by
year! May her—'

' Stop, Ernest,' said Mr. Alston, with a
shrug, 'you may be taken at your word,
and you wouldn't like that, you know.
Besides, it is cowardly to go on cursing at
a woman.'238	the witch's head.

He paused, standing for a moment with
his clenched fist still raised above his head,
his pale lips quivering with intense excite-
ment, and his dark eyes flashing and blazing
like stars.

' You are right,' he said, dropping his fist
on to the table. ' It is with the man that I
have to deal.'

' What man ?'

' This Plowden. I fear that I shall dis-
turb his honeymoon.'

' What do you mean ?'

' I mean that I am going to kill him, or
he is going to kill me, it does not much
matter which.'

' Why, what quarrel have you with the
man? Of course he looked after himself.
You could not expect him to consider your
interests, could you ?'

' If he had cut me out fairly I should not
have a word to say. Every man for him-FOUND WANTING.	239

self in this pleasant world. But mark my
words, this parson and Florence have forced
her into this unholy business, and I will
have his life in payment. If you don't
believe me, ask Jeremy. He saw something
of the game before he left.'

' Look here, Kershaw, the man's a parson.
He will take shelter behind his cloth, he
won't fight. What shall you do then ?'

' I shall shoot him,' was the cool reply.

' Ernest, you are mad; it won't do, you
shall not go, and that is all about it. You
shall not ruin yourself over this woman, who
is not fit to black an honest man's shoes.'

' Shall not! shall not! Alston, you use
strong language. Who will prevent me ?'

' I will prevent you. I am your superior
officer, and the corps you belong to is not
disbanded. If you try to leave this place
you shall be arrested as a deserter. ,Now
don't be a fool, lad; you have killed one240	the witch's head.

man and got out of the mess. If you kill
another, you will not get out of it. Besides,
what will the satisfaction be ? If you want
revenge, be patient. It will come. I have
seen something of life; at least I am old
enough to be your father, and I know that
you think me a cynic because I laugh at
your "high falutiti" about women. How
justly I warned you, you see now. But cynic
or no, I believe in the God above us, and I
believe too that there is a rough justice in
this world. It is in the world principally
that people expiate the sins of the world,
and if this marriage is such a wicked thing,
as you think, it will bring its own trouble
with it, without any help from you. Time
will aveDge you. Everything comes to him
who can wait.'

Ernest's eyes glittered coldly as he
answered—

' I cannot wait. I am a ruined manFOUND WANTING.	241

already, all my life is laid waste. I wish to
die, but I wish to kill him before I die.'

' So sure as my name is Alston you shall
not go.'

' So sure as my name is Kershaw I will
go.'

For a moment the two men faced one
another; it would have been hard to say
which looked the most determined. Then
Mr. Alston turned and left the room and
the house. On the verandah he paused
and thought for a moment.

'The boy means business,'he thought to
himself. ' He will try and bolt. How can
I stop him ? Ah, I have it,' and he set
off briskly towards Government House,
saying aloud as he went, 'I love that
lad too well to let him destroy himself
over a jilt.'

VOL. II.

R242

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

CHAPTER XII.

EKNEST RUNS AWAY.

TT7HEN Alston left the room Ernest sat
' ' down on the bed again.

' I am not going to be domineered over
by Alston,' lie said excitedly, ' lie presumes
upon his friendship.'

Jeremy came and sat beside him and
took hold of his arm.

'My dear fellow, don't talk like that.
You know he means kindly by you. You
are not yourself just yet. By-and-by you
will see things in a different light.'

' Not myself indeed. Would you be your-
self, I wonder, if you knew that the woman
who had pinned all your soul to her bosomEliNEST RUNS AWAY.	243

as though it were a ribbon, was going to
marry another man to-morrow ?'

' Old fellow, you forget, though I can't
talk of it in as pretty words as you can; I
loved her too. I could bear to give her up
to you, especially as she didn't care a brass
farthing about me; but when I think about
this other fellow, with his cold grey eye and
that mark on his confounded forehead,—ah,
Ernest, it makes me sick !'

And they sat on the bed together and
groaned in chorus, looking, to tell the truth,
rather absurd.

'I tell you what it is, Jeremy,' said

Ernest, when he had finished groaning at

the vision of his successful rival as painted

by Jeremy, ' you are a good fellow, and I am

a selfish beast. Here have I been kicking

up all this devil's delight, and you haven't

said a word. You are a more decent chap

than I am, Jeremy, by a long chalk. And

E a244	the witch's head.

I dare say you are as fond of her as I am.
No, I don't think you can be that, though.'

' My dear fellow, there is no parallel
between our cases. I never expected to
marry her. You did, and had every right
to do so. Besides, we are differently made.
You feel things three times as much as I do.'

Ernest laughed bitterly.

' I don't think that I shall ever feel
anything again,' he said. 'My capacities
for suffering will be pretty nearly used
up. Oh what a sublime fool is the man
who gives all his life and heart to one
woman ! No man would have done it; but
what could you expect of a couple of boys
like we were. That is why women like
boys; it is so easy to take them in—like
puppies going to be drowned, in love and
faith they lick the hand that will destroy
them. It must be amusing—to the de-
stroyers. By Jove, Alston was right aboutERNEST RUNS AWAY.	245

his ideals. Do you know I am beginning
to see all these things in quite a different
light. I used to believe in women, Jeremy,
—actually I used to believe in them—I
thought they were better than we are,'
and he laughed hysterically. ' Well, we
buy our experience; I shan't make the
mistake again.'

' Come, come, Ernest, don't go on talking
like that. You have got a blow as bad as
death, and the only thing to do is to meet
it as you would meet death—in silence.
You will not go after that fellow, will you ?
It will only make things worse, you see.
You won't have time to kill him before he
marries her, and it really would not be
worth while getting hung about it when
the mischief is done. There is literally
nothing to be done except grin and bear
it. We won't go back to England at all,
but right up to the Zambesi, and hunt246	the witch's head.

elephant; and as things have turned out,
if you should get knocked on the head,
why, you won't mind it so much, you
know.'

Ernest made no answer to this consola-
tory address, and Jeremy left him alone,
thinking that he had convinced him. But
the Ernest of midday was a very different
man from the Ernest of the morning,
directing the erection of ' parasols' over
melons. The cruel news that the mail had
brought him, and which from force of
association caused him for years afterwards
to hate the sight of a letter, had, figuratively
speaking, destroyed him. He could never
recover from it, though he would certainly
survive it. Sharp, indeed, must be the
grief which kills. But all the bloom and
beauty had gone from his life ; the gentle
faith which he had placed in women was
gone (for so narrow-minded are we all,ERNEST RUNS AWAY.	247

that we cannot help judging a class by
our salient experiences of individuals), and
he was from that day forward, for many
years, handed over to a loiig-drawn-out
pain, which never quite ceased, though it
frequently culminated in paroxysms, and
to which death itself would have been
almost preferable.

But as yet he did not quite realize all
these things; what he did realize was an
intense and savage thirst for revenge, so
intense indeed, that he felt as though he
must put himself in a way to gratify it,
or his brain would go. To-morrow, he
thought, was to see the final act of his
betrayal. To-day was the eve of her
marriage, and he as powerless to avert it
as a child. Oh, great God! And yet
through it all he knew she loved him.

Ernest, like many other pleasant, kindly-
tempered men, was, if once stung into248	the witch's head.

action, by the sense of overpowering wrong,
extremely dangerous. Ill, indeed, would
it have fared with. Mr. Plowden if he could
have come across him at that moment.
And he honestly meant that it should fare
ill with that reverend gentleman. So much
did he mean it, that before he left his room
he wrote his resignation of membership of
the volunteer corps to which he belonged,
and took it up to the Government-office.
Then, remembering that the Potchefstroom
post-cart left Pretoria at dawn on the follow-
ing morning, he made his way to the office,
and ascertained that there were no pas-
sengers booked to leave by it. But he
did not take a place, he was too clever to
do that. Leaving the office, he went to
the bank, and drew one hundred and fifty
pounds in gold. Then he went home
again. Here he found a Kaffir messenger
dressed in the Government white uni-ERNEST RUNS AWAY.	249

form, "waiting for him with an official
letter.

The letter acknowledged receipt of his
resignation, but ' regretted that in the
present unsettled state of affairs His Excel-
lency was, in the interest of the public
service, unable to dispense with his
services.'

Ernest dismissed the messenger, and tore
the letter across. If the Government could
not dispense with him he would dispense
with the Government. His aim was to
go to Potchefstroom, and thence to the
Diamond Fields. Once there, he could
take the post-cart to Cape Town, where he
would meet the English mail steamer, and
in one month from the present date be
once more in England.

That evening he dined with Mr. Alston,
Jeremy, and Roger as usual, and no allusion
was made to the events of the morning.250	the witch's head.

About eleven o'clock he went to bed, but
not to sleep. The post-cart left at four.
At three he rose very quietly, and put a
few things into a leather saddle-bag, ex-
tracted his revolver from under the bed
where he had thrown it when, in the first
burst of his agony, he had been interrupted
in his contemplated act of self-destruction,
and buckled it round his waist. Then he
slipped out through the window of his
room, crept stealthily down the garden
path, and struck out for the Potchefstroom
road. But silently and secretly as he went,
there went behind him one more silent
and secret than he—one to whose race
through long generations of tracking foes
and wild beasts, silence and secrecy had
become an instinct. It was the Hottentot
boy, Aasvogel.

The Hottentot followed him in the dim
light, never more than fifty paces behindEli NEST RUNS AWAY.	251

lrim, sometimes not more than ten, and yet
totally invisible. Now he was behind a
bush or a tuft of rank grass; now he was
running down a ditch; and now again
creeping over the open on his belly like a
two-legged snake. As soon as Ernest got
out of the town, and began to loiter along
the Potchefstroom road, the Hottentot
halted, uttering to himself a guttural ex-
pression of satisfaction. Then watching
his opportunity, he turned and ran swiftly
back to Pretoria. In ten minutes he was
at Ernest's house.

In front of the door were five
horses, three with white riders, two being
held by Kaffirs. On the verandah, as
usual smoking, was Mr. Alston, and
with him Jeremy, the latter armed and
spurred.

The Hottentot made his report and
vanished.252	the witch's head.

Mr. Alston turned and addressed
Jeremy in the tone of one giving an
order.

' Now go,' he said at last, handing him
a paper, and Jeremy went, and mounting
one of the led horses, a powerful cream-
coloured animal with a snow-white mane
and tail, galloped off into the twilight,
followed by the three white men.

Meanwhile Ernest walked quietly along
the road. Once he paused, thinking that
he heard the sound of galloping horses,
half a mile or so to the left. It passed,
and he went on again. Presently the mist
began to lift, and the glorious sun came
up ; then came a rumble of wheels running
along the silent road, and the post-cart
with six fresh horses was hard upon him.
He halted, and held up his hand to the
native driver. The man knew him, and
stopped the team at once.ERNEST RUNS AWAY.	253

' I am going with you to Potchefstroom,
Apollo,' he said.

'All right, sar; plenty of room inside,
sar. No passenger this trip, sar, and damn
good job too.'

Ernest got up and off they went. He
was safe now. There was no telegraph to
Potchefstroom, and nothing could catch the
post-cart if it had an hour's start.

A mile further on there was a hill, up
which the unlovely Apollo walked his horses.
At the top of the hill was a clump of mimosa
bush, out of which, to the intense astonish-
ment of both Ernest and Apollo, there
emerged four mounted men with a led
horse. One of these men was Jeremy ; it
was impossible to mistake his powerful
form, sitting on his horse with the grip
of a centaur.

They rode up to the post-cart in silence.
Jeremy motioned to Apollo to pull up. He254	the witch's head.

obeyed, and one of the men dismounted and
seized the horses' heads.

' Tricked, by heaven !' said Ernest.

' You must come back with me, Ernest,'
said Jeremy quietly. ' I have a warrant
for your arrest as a deserter, signed by the
Governor.'

' And if I refuse ?'

' Then my orders are to take you back.'

Ernest drew his revolver.

' This is a trick,' he said, ' and I shall not
go back.'

' Then I must take you,' was the reply;
and Jeremy coolly dismounted.

Ernest's eyes flashed dangerously, and he
lifted the pistol.

' Oh, yes, you can shoot me if you like ;
but if you do, the others will take you;'
and he continued to walk towards him.

Ernest cocked his revolver and pointed it.

' At your peril,' he said.EKNEST RONS AWAY.	255

' So be it,' said Jeremy, and he walked
up to the cart.

Ernest dropped his weapon.

'It is mean of you, Jeremy,' he said.
' You know I can't fire at you.'

' Of course you can't, old fellow. Come,
skip out of that; you are keeping the mail.
I have a horse ready for you, a slow one ;
you won't be able to run away on him.'

Ernest obeyed, feeling rather small, and
in half-an-hour was back at his own house.

Mr. Alston was waiting for him.

' Good morning, Ernest,' he said cheer-
fully. 'Went out driving and come back
riding, eh ?'

Ernest looked at him, and his brown
cheek flushed.

' You have played me a dirty trick,' he
said.

' Look here, my boy,' answered Mr.
Alston sternly, ' I am slow at making a256	the witch's head.

friend ; but when once I take his hand I
hold it till one of the two grows cold. I
should have been no true friend to you if I
had let you go on this fool's errand, this
wicked errand. Will you give me your
word that you will not attempt to escape,
or must I put you under arrest ?'

' I give you my word,' answered Ernest,
humbled ; ' and I ask your forgiveness.'

'Thus it was that, for the first time in his
life, Ernest tried to run away.

That morning Jeremy, missing Ernest,
went into his room to see what he was
doing. The room was shuttered to keep
out the glare of the sun; but when he
got used to the light he discovered Ernest
sitting at the table, and staring straight
'before him with a wild look in his eyes.

'Come in, old fellow, come in,' he called
out with bitter jocularity, 'and assist at
this happy ceremony. Kather dark, isn'tERNEST KUNS AWAY.	257

it ? but lovers like the dark. Look !' he
went on, pointing to his watch, which lay
upon the table before him, ' by English
time it is now about twenty minutes past
eleven. They are being married now,
Jeremy, my boy, I can feel it. By heaven!
I have only to shut my eyes and I can
see it.'

' Come, come, Ernest,' said Jeremy,' don't
go on like that. You are not yourself,
man.'

He laughed and answered—

' I am sure I wish I wasn't. I tell you I

can see it all. I can see Kesterwick church

full of people, and before the altar, in her

white dress, is Eva ; but her face is whiter

than her dress, Jeremy, and her eyes are

very much afraid. And there is Florence,

with her dark smile, and your friend, Mr.

Plowden, too, with his cold eyes and

the cross upon his forehead. Oh, I assure
VOL. II.	s258	the witch's head.

you I can see them all. It is a pretty
wedding, very. There, it is over now,
and I think I will go away before the
kissing.'

' Oh, hang it all, Ernest, wake up,' said
Jeremy, shaking him by the shoulder. ' You
will drive yourself mad if you give your ^
imagination so much rein.'

' Wake up, my boy ! I feel more inclined
to sleep. Have some grog. Won't you?
Well, I will."

He rose and went to the mantelpiece, on
which stood a square bottle of Hollands and
a tumbler. Rapidly filling the tumbler
with raw spirit, he drank it as fast as the
contractions of his throat would allow. He
filled it again, and drank that too. Then he
fell insensible upon the bed.

It was a strange scene, and in some ways
a coarse one, but yet not without a pathos
of its own.ERNEST RUNS AWAY.	259

' Ernest,' said Mr. Alston three weeks
later, ' you are strong enough to travel
now; what do you say to six months
or a year among the elephants ? The
oxen are in first-rate condition, and we
ought to get to our ground in six or seven
weeks.'

Ernest, who was lying back in a low cane
chair, looking very thin and pale, thought
for a moment before he answered—

' All right, I'm your man; only let's get
off soon. I am tired of this place, and want
something to think about.'

' You have given up the idea of returning
to England ?'

' Yes, quite.'

' And what do you say, Jeremy ?'

' Where Ernest goes, there will I go also.
Besides, to shoot an elephant is the one
ambition of my life.'

' Good ! then we will consider that settled.

S 2260	the witch's head.

We shall want to pick up another eight-
bore ; but I know of one a fellow wants to
sell, a beauty, by Riley. I will begin to
make arrangements at once.'mr. plowdex asseb.ts his rights. 261

CHAPTER XIII.

mr. plowden asserts his rights.

When last we saw Eva she had just
become privately engaged to the Reverend
James Plowden. But the marriage was not
to take place till the following spring, and
the following spring was a long way off.
Vaguely she hoped something might occur
to prevent it, forgetting that as a rule in real
life it is only happy things that accidents
occur to prevent. Rare indeed is it that
the Plowdens of this world are prevented
from marrying the Evas ; fate has sufficient
to do in thwarting the Ernests. And mean-
while her position was not altogether unen-
durable, for she had made a bargain with her262

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

lover that the usual amenities of courtship
were to be dispensed with. There were to
be no embracings or other tender passages,
she was not even to be forced to call him
James. ' James !' how she detested the
name! Thus did the wretched girl try to
put off the evil day, much as the ostrich is
supposed to hide her head in a bush and
indulge in dreams of fancied security. Mr.
Plowden did not object, he was too wary a
hunter to do so. While his stately prey
was there with her head in the thickest of
the bush he was sure of her. She would
never wake from her foolish dreams till the
ripe moment came to deliver the fatal blow,
and all would be over. But if, on the con-
trary, he startled her now, she might take
flight more swiftly than he could follow, and
leave him alone in the desetj^ .

So when Eva made her littf# stipulations,
he acquiesced in them after only jij.st soMR. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 263,

much hesitation as he thought would seem
lover-like. 'Life, Eva,' he said senten-
tiously, ' is a compromise. I yield to
your wishes.' But in his heart he thought
that a time would come when she would
have to yield to his, and his cold eye
gleamed. Eva saw the gleam, and shuddered
prophetically.

The Eeverend Mr. Plowden did not suffer
much distress at the coldness with which he
was treated. He knew that his day would
come, and was content to wait for it like
a wise man. He was not in love with
Eva. A nature like his is scarcely capable
of any such feeling as that, for instance,
which Eva and Ernest bore to each other.
True love, crowned with immortality, veils

his shining face from such men as	Mr.

u' J

Plowden. He* was fascinated by	her

' &) •	•

beauty, th&i^was all. But his cunning
\4a& 6f a superior order, and he was264	the witch's head.

quite content to wait. So lie contrived
to extract a letter from Eva, in which
she talked of 'our engagement,' and al-
luded to ' our forthcoming marriage,' and
waited.

And thus the time went on all too
quickly for Eva. She was quietly miser-
able, but she was not acutely unhappy.
That was yet to come, with other evil
things. Christmas came and went, the
spring came too, and with the daffodils
and violets came Ernest's letter.

Eva was down the first one morning
and was engaged in making the tea in the
Cottage dining-room, when ■ that modern
minister to the decrees of fate the postman
brought the letter. She recognized the
writing in a moment, and the tea-caddy
fell with a crash on to the floor. Seizing
it, she tore open the sealed envelope and
read it swiftly. Oh, what a wave of loveMR. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 265

surged' up in her heart as she read ! Press-
ing the senseless paper to her lips, she
kissed it again and again.

' Oh, Ernest!' she murmured, ' oh, my
love, my darling!'

Just then Florence came down, looking •
cool and composed, and giving that idea of
quiet strength which is the natural attribute
of some women.

Eva pushed the letter into her bosom.

' What is the matter, Eva ?' she said
quietly, noting her flushed face, 'and why
have you upset the tea ?'

' Matter!' she answered, laughing happily
—she had not laughed so for months; ' oh,
nothing, I have heard from Ernest, that
is all.'

' Indeed !' answered her sister, with a
.troubled smile on her dark face; ' and
what has our runaway to say for him-
self?'266	the witch's head.

' Say ! oh, he has a great deal to say, and
I have something to say too. I am going
to marry him.'

' Indeed ! and Mr. Plowden ?'

Eva turned pale.

' Mr. Plowden ! I have done with Mr.
Plowden.'

' Indeed !' said Florence again ; ' really
this is quite romantic. But please pick up
that tea. Whoever you marry, let us have
some breakfast in the mean while. Excuse
me for one moment, I have forgotten my
handkerchief.'

Eva did as she Avas bid, and made the
tea after a fashion.

Meanwhile Florence went to her room
and scribbled a note, enclosed it in an
envelope, and rang the bell.

The servant answered.

'Tell John to take this to Mr. Plowden's
lodgings at once, and if he should be out,ME. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 267

to follow Mm till lie finds him, and deliver
it.'

'Yes, miss.'

Ten minutes later Mr. Plowden got the
following note:—

' Come here at once. Eva has heard
from Ernest Kershaw, and announces her
intention of throwing you over and marry-
ing him. Be prepared for a struggle, but
do not show that you have heard from me.
You must find means to hold your own.
Burn this.'

Mr. Plowden whistled as he laid the
paper down. Going to his desk he unlocked
it, and extracted the letter he had received
from Eva, in which she acknowledged her
engagement to him, and then seizing his
hat, walked swiftly towards the Cottage.

Meanwhile Florence made her way down-
stairs again, saying to herself as she went,
' An unlucky chance. If I had seen the268	the witch's head.

letter first I would have burnt it. But we
shall win yet. She has not the stamina to.,
stand out against that man.'

As soon as she reached the dining-room,
Eva began to say something more about her
letter, but her sister stopped her quickly.

' Let me have my breakfast in peace,
Eva. We will talk of the letter afterwards.
He does not interest me, your Ernest, and
it takes away my appetite to talk business
at meals.'

Eva ceased and sat silent; breakfast had
no charms for her that morning.

Presently there was a knock at the door,
and Mr. Plowden entered with a smile of
forced gaiety on his face.

' How do you do, Florence !' he said,' how
do you do, dear Eva ! You see I have come
to see you early this morning. I want a
little refreshment to enable me to get
through my day's duty. The early suitorME. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS EIGHTS. 269

lias come to pick up the worm of his
affections,' and he laughed at his joke.

Florence shuddered at the simile, and
thought to herself that there was a - fair
chance of the affectionate worm disagreeing
with the early suitor.

Eva said nothing. She sat quite still
and pale.

' Why, what is the matter with you both ?
Have you seen a ghost ?'

' Not exactly; but I think that Eva has
received a message from the dead,' said
Florence, with a nervous laugh.

Eva rose. 'I think, Mr. Plowden,' she
said, ' that I had better be frank with you
at once. I ask you to listen to me for a
few moments.'

' Am I not always at your service, dear
Eva V

' I wish,' began Eva, and broke down,—
' I wish,' she went on again, ' to appeal to270	the witch's head.

your generosity, and to your feelings as a
gentleman.'

Florence smiled.

Mr. Plowden bowed with, mock humility,
and smiled too—a very ugly smile.

'You are aware that before I became
engaged to you I had had a previous—
affair.'

' With the boy who committed a murder,'
put in Mr. Plowden.

'With a gentleman who had the mis-
fortune to kill a man in a duel,' explained
Eva.

' The Church and the law call it murder.'

' Excuse me, Mr. Plowden, we are dealing
neither with the Church nor the law; we
are dealing with the thing as it is called
among gentlemen and ladies.'

.' Go on,' said Mr. Plowden.

'Well, misunderstandings, which I need
not now enter into, arose- with reference toME. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS EIGHTS. 271

that affair, though, as I told you, I loved the
man. To-day I have heard from him, and
his letter puts everything straight in my
mind, and I see how wrong and unjust
has been my behaviour to him, and I know
that I love him more than ever.'

' Curse the fellow's impudence,' said the
clergyman, furiously; 'if he were here I
would give him a bit of my mind.'

Eva's spirit rose, and she turned on him
with flashing eyes, looking like a queen in
her imperial beauty.

'If he were here, Mr. Plowden, you
would not dare to look him in the face.
Men like you only take advantage of the
absent.'

The clergyman ground his teeth. He
felt his furious temper rising, and "did not
dare to answer, though he was a bold man
in face of a woman. He feared lest it
should get beyond him. But beneath his272	the witch's head.

breath he muttered, 'You shall pay for
that, my lady.'

' Under these circumstances,' went on
Eva, ' I appeal to you as a gentleman to
release me from an engagement into which,
as you know, I have been drawn more by
force of circumstances than by my own
wish. Surely it is not necessary for me to
say any more.'

Mr. Plowden rose and came and stood
quite close to her, so that his face was
within a few inches of her eyes.

' Eva,' he said, ' I am not going to be
trifled with like this. You have promised
to marry me, and I shall keep you to your
promise. You laid yourself out to win my
affection, the affection of an honest man.'

Again Florence smiled, and Eva made a
faint motion of dissent.

'Yes, but you did, you encouraged me.
It is very well for you to deny it now,ME. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 273

"when it suits your purpose, but you did,
and you know it, and your sister there
knows it.'

Florence bowed her head in assent.

' And now you wish, in order to gratify
an unlawful passion for a shedder of blood,
—you wish to throw; me over, to trample
upon my holiest feelings, and to rob me of
the prize which I have won. No, Eva, I
- will not release you.'

' Surely, surely, Mr. Plowden,' said Eva
faintly, for she was a gentle creature, and
the man's violence overwhelmed her, 'you
will not force me into a marriage which I
tell you is repugnant to me? I appeal to
your generosity to release me. You can
never oblige me to marry you when I tell
you that I do not love you, and that my
whole heart is given to another man.'

Mr. Howden saw that his violence was

doing its work, and determined to follow it

VOL. II.	T274	the witch's head.

up. He raised his voice till it was almost a
shout.

' Yes,' he said, ' 1 will; I will not sub-
mit to such wickedness. Love! that will
come. I am quite willing to take my chance
of it. No, I tell you fairly that I will not
let you off; and if you try to avoid fulfil-
ling your engagement to me I will do more ;
I will proclaim you all over the country
as a jilt; I will bring an action for
breach of promise of marriage against you—
perhaps you did not know that men can do
that as well as women—and cover your
name with disgrace. Look, I have your
written promise of marriage,' and he pro-
duced her letter.

Eva turned to her sister.

' Florence,' she said, ' cannot you say a
word to help me ? I am overwhelmed.'

' I wish I could, Eva dear,' answered her
sister' kindly ; ' but how can I ? What Mr.MR. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 275

Plowden says is just and right. You are
engaged tb him, and are in honour bound
to marry him. Oh, Eva, do not bring
trouble and disgrace upon us all by your
obstinacy! You owe something to your
name as well as to yourself, and something
to me too. I am sure that Mr. Plowden
will be willing to forget all about this if you
will undertake never to allude to it again.'

' Oh, yes, certainly, Miss Florence. I am
not revengeful; I only want my rights.'

Eva looked faintly from one to the other;
her head sank, and great black rings
painted themselves beneath her eyes. The
lily was broken at last.

' You are very cruel,' she said slowly;
' but I suppose it must be as you wish.
Pray God I may die first, that is all!' and
she put her hands to her head and stumbled
from the room, leaving the two conspirators
facing each other.

T 2276	the witch's head.

' Come, we got over that capitally,' said
Mr. Plowden, rubbing his hands. 'There
is nothing like taking the high hand with
a woman. Ladies must sometimes be taught
that a gentleman has rights as well as
themselves.'

Florence turned on him with bitter scorn.

e Gentleman! Mr. Plowden, why is the

7 •/

word so often on your lips ? Surely, after
the part you have just played, you do not
presume to rank yourself among gentlemen ?
Listen ! it suits my purposes that you
should marry Eva; and you shall marry
her; but I will not stoop to play the hypo-
crite with a man like you. You talk of
yourself as a gentleman, and do not scruple
to force an innocent girl into a wicked
marriage, and to crush her spirit with your
cunning cruelty. A gentleman, forsooth!
—a satyr, a devil in disguise.'

' I am only asserting my rights,' heMR. PLOWDEN ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS. 277

said furiously; 'and whatever I have done,
you have done more.'

'Do not try your violence on me, Mr.
Plowden; it will not do. I am not made of
the same stuff as your victim. Lower your
voice, or leave the house and do not enter
it again.'

Mr. Plowden's heavy under-jaw fell a
little; he was terribly afraid of Florence.

' Now,' she said, ' listen ! I do not choose
that you should labour under any mistake.
I hold your hand in this business, though
to have to do with you in any way is in
itself a defilement,' and she wiped her
delicate fingers on a pocket-handkerchief as
she said the word, ' because I have an end
of my own to gain. Not a vulgar end like
yours, but a revenge, which shall be almost
divine or diabolical, call it which you will, in
its completeness. Perhaps it is a madness,
perhaps it is an inspiration, perhaps it is a278	the witch's head.

fate. Whatever it is, it animates me body
and soul, and I will gratify it, though to do
so I have to use a tool like you. I wished
to explain this to you. I wished, too, to
make it clear to you that I consider you
contemptible. I have done both, and I
have now the pleasure to wish you good
morning.'

Mr. Plowden left the house white with
fury, and cursing in a manner remarkable
in a clergyman.

' If she wasn't so handsome, hang me if I
would not throw the whole thing up,' he
said.

Needless to say, he did nothing of the
sort, he only kept out of Florence's way.THE VIRGIN MARTYR.

279

CHAPTER XIV.

THE VIRGIN MARTYR.

T~\OROTHY, in her note to Ernest that
he received by the mail previous to
the one that brought the letters which at a
single blow laid the hope and promise of his
life in the dust, had, it may be remembered,
stated her intention of going to see Eva in
. order to plead Ernest's cause; but what
with one thing and another, her visit was
considerably, delayed. Twice she was on
the point of going, and twice something
occurred to prevent her. The fact of the
matter was, the errand was distasteful, and
she was in no hurry to execute it. She
loved Ernest herself, and however deep that280	the witch's hea.d.

love might be trampled down, however fast
it might be chained in the dungeons of her
secret thoughts, it was still there, a living
thing, an immortal thing. She could tread
it down and chain it, she could not kill it.
Its shade would rise and walk in the upper
chambers of her heart, and wring its hands
and cry to her, telling what it suffered in
those subterranean places, whispering how
bitterly it envied the bright and happy life
which moved in the free air, and had
usurped the love it claimed. It was hard
to have to ignore those pleadings, to dis-
regard those cries for pity, and to say that
there was no hope, that it must always be
chained, till time ate away the chains. It
was harder still to have to be one of the
actual ministers to the suffering. Still she
meant to go. Her duty to Ernest was
not to be forsaken because it was a painful
duty.THE VIRGIN MARTYR.	281

On two or three occasions she met Eva,
but got no opportunity of speaking to her.
Either her sister Florence was with her,
or she was obliged to return immediately.
The fact was that, after the scene described
in the last chapter, Eva was subjected to
the closest espionage. At home ■ Florence
watched her as a cat watches a mouse;
abroad Mr. Plowden seemed to be con-
stantly hovering on her flank, or if he was
not there, then she became aware of the
presence of the ancient and contemplative
mariner who traded in Dutch cheeses. Mr.
Plowden feared lest she should run away,
and so cheat him of his prize; Florence,
lest she should confide in Dorothy, or
possibly Mr. Cardus, and supported by
them find the courage to assert herself and
defraud her of her revenge. So they
watched her every movement.

A.t last Dorothy made up her mind to282	the witch's head.

wait no longer for opportunities, but to go
and see Eva at her own home. She knew
nothing of the Plowden imbroglio; but it
did strike her as curious that no one had
said anything about Ernest. He had
written—it was scarcely likely the letter
had miscarried. How was it that Eva had
not said anything on the subject ? Little
did Dorothy guess that, 6ven as these
thoughts were passing through her mind,
a great vessel was steaming out of South-
ampton docks, bearing those epistles of
final renunciation, which Ernest, very little
to his satisfaction, received in due course.

Full of these reflections, Dorothy found
(herself one lovely spring afternoon knock-
ing at the door of the Cottage. Eva was at
home, and she was at once ushered into her
presence. She was sitting on a low chair
—the same on which Ernest always pictured
her with that confounded Skye terrier sheTHIS VJRGLN MARTYR.	283

was so fond of kissing,—an open book upon
her knee, and looking out at the little
garden and the sea beyond. She looked
pale and thin, Dorothy thought.

On her visitor's entrance, Eva rose and
kissed her.

' I am so glad to see you,' she said; ' I
was feeling lonely.'

' Lonely!' answered Dorothy in her
straightforward way, 'why, I have been
trying to find you alone for the last fort-
night, and have never succeeded.'

Eva coloured. ' One may be lonely with
ever so many people round one.'

Then for a minute or so they talked
about the weather; so persistently did they
discuss it indeed, that the womanly instinct
of each told her that the other was
fencing.

After all it was Eva who broke the ice
first.284	tee witch's head.

' Have you heard from Ernest lately ?' she
said nervously.

' Yes; I got a note by last mail.'

' Oh,' said Eva, clasping her hands in-
voluntarily, ' what did he say 1'

' Nothing much. But I got a letter by
the mail before that in which he said a
good deal. Among other things, he said he
had written to you. Did you get the
letter 1'

Eva coloured to her eyes. 'Yes,' she
whispered.

Dorothy rose, and seated herself again oh
a footstool by Eva's feet, and wondered at
the trouble in her eyes. How could she
be troubled when she had heard from
Ernest—' like that.'

' What did you answer him, dear ?'

Eva covered her face with her hands.

' Do not talk about it,' she said ; e it is too
dreadful to me.'THE VIRGIN MARTYR.	285

' What can you mean ? He tells me you
are engaged to him.'

' Yes—that is, no. I was half engaged.
Now I am engaged to Mr. Plowden.'

Dorothy gave a gasp of horrified astonish-
ment.

' Engaged to that man when you were
_ engaged to Ernest. You must be joking.'

' Oh, Dorothy, I am not joking, I wish to
Heaven I were. I am engaged to him. I
atn to marry him in less than a month. Oh,
pity me, I am wretched.'

' You mean to tell me,' said Dorothy
rising, 'that you are engaged to Mr.
Plowden when you love Ernest ?'

' Yes, oh yes, I cannot help—'

At that moment the door opened, and
Florence entered, attended by Mr. Plowden.

Her keen eyes saw at once that some-
thing was wrong, and her intelligence told
her what it was. After her bold fashion, she286	the witch's head.

determined to take the bull by the horns.
Unless something were done, with Dorothy
at her back, Eva might prove obdurate
after all.

Advancing, she shook Dorothy cordially
by the hand.

' I see from your face,' she said,' that you
have just heard the good news. Mr.
Plowden is so shy that he would not
consent to announce it before; but here he
is to receive your congratulations.'

Mr. Plowden took the cue, and advanced
effusively on Dorothy with outstretched
hand. 'Yes, Miss Jones, I am sure you
will congratulate me; and I ought to be
congratulated, I am the luckiest—'

Here he broke off. It really was very
awkward. His hand remained limply
hanging in the air before Dorothy, but not
the slightest sign did that' dignified little
lady show of taking it. On the contrary,THE VIRGIN MART YE.	287

she drew herself up to her full height—
which was not very tall—and fixing her
steady blue eyes on the clergyman's shifty
orbs, deliberately placed her right hand
behind her back.

' I do not shake hands with people who
play such tricks,' she said quietly.

Mr. Plowden's hand fell to his side, and
he stepped back. He did not expect such
courage in anything so small. Florence
however sailed in to the rescue.

' Really, Dorothy, we do not quite under-
stand.'

'Oh yes, I think you do, Florence, or if
you do not, then I will explain. Eva here
was engaged to marry Ernest Kershaw. Eva
here has just with her own lips told me that
she still loves Ernest, but that she is obliged
to marry—that man,' and she pointed with
her little forefinger at Plowden, who recoiled
another step. ' Is not that true, Eva %'288	the witch's head.

Eva bowed her head, by way of answer.
She still sat in the low chair, with her hands
over her face.

' Keally, Dorothy, I fail to see what right
vou have to interfere in this matter,' said
Florence.

' I have the right of common justice,
Florence—the right a friend has to protect
the absent. Oh, are you not ashamed of
such a wicked plot to wrong an absent
man ? Is there no way (addressing Mr.
Plowden) in which I can appeal to your
feelings, to induce you to free this wretched
girl you have entrapped ?'

' I only ask my own,' said Mr. Plowden,
sulkily.

' For shame! for shame! and you a
minister of God's word. And you too,
Florence! Oh, now I can read your heart,
and see the bad thoughts looking from your
eyes!'THE VIRGIN MARTYR.	-289

Florence for a moment was abashed, and
turned her face aside.

'And you, Eva, how can you become a
party to such a shameful thing ? You, a
good girl, to sell yourself away from dear
Ernest to such a man as that;' and again
she pointed contemptuously at Mr. Plowden.

' Oh don't, Dorothy, don't; it is my duty.
You don't understand.'

' Oh yes, Eva, I do understand. I under-
stand that it is your duty to drown your-
self before you do such a thing. I am a
woman as well as you, and though I am
not beautiful, I have a heart and a con-
science, and I understand only too well.'

' You will be lost if you drown yourself—
I meato. it is very wicked,' said Mr. Plowden
to Eva, suddenly assuming his clerical
character as most likely to be effective.
The suggestion alarmed him. He had

bargained for a live Eva.

VOL. II.	u290	the witch's head.

' Yes, Mr. Plowden,' went on Dorothy,
' you are right, it would be wicked, but not
so wicked as to marry you. God gave us
women our lives, but he put a spirit in our
hearts which tells us that we should rather
throw them away than suffer ourselves to
be degraded. Oh, Eva, tell me that you
will not do .this shameful thing ;—no, do
not whisper to her, Florence.'

'Dorothy, Dorothy,' said Eva, rising and
wringing her hands, ' it is all useless. Do
not break my heart with your cruel words.
I must marry him. I have fallen into the
power of people who do not know what
mercy is.'

' Thank you,' said Florence.

Mr. Plowden scowled darkly.

' Then I have done ;' and Dorothy walked
towards the door. Before she reached it
she paused and turned. ' One word, and
I will trouble you no more. What doTHE VIRGIN MARTYR.	291

you all expect will come of this wicked
marriage ?'

There was no answer. Then Dorothy
went.

But her efforts did not stop there. She
made her way straight to Mr. Cardus'
office.

' Oh, Reginald !' she said, ' I have such
dreadful news for you. There, let me cry
a little first and I will tell you.'

And she did, telling him the whole story
from beginning to end. It was entirely
new to him, and he listened with some
astonishment, and with a feeling of some-
thing like indignation against Ernest. He
had intended that young gentleman to fall
in love with Dorothy, and behold he had
fallen in love with Eva. Alas for the per-
versity of youth !

' Well,' he said, when she had done, ' and

what do you wish me to do ? It seems that

U 2,292	the witch's head.

you have to do with a heartless scheming
woman, a clerical cad, and a beautiful fool.
One might deal with the schemer and the
fool, but no power on earth can soften a
cad. At least that is my experience.
Besides, I think the whole thing is much
better left alone. I should be very sorry
to see ..Ernest married to a woman so worth-
less as this Eva must be. She is handsome,
it is true, and that is about all she is, as far
as I can see. Don't distress yourself, my
dear, he will get over it, and after he has
had his fling out there and lived down that
duel business, he will come home, and if
he is wise, I know where he will look for
consolation.'

Dorothy tossed her head and coloured.

' It is not a question of consolation,' she
said, 'it is a question of Ernest's happiness
in life.'

'Don't alarm yourself, Dorothy, people'sTHE VIRGIN MARTYR.	293

happiness is not so easily affected. He will
forget all about her in a year.'

'I think that men always talk of each
other like that, Reginald,' said Dorothy,
resting her head upon her hands and look-
ing straight at the old gentleman. 'Each
of you likes to think that he has a monopoly
of feeling, and that the rest of his kind are
as shallow as a milk-pan. And yet it was
only last night that you were talking to
me about my mother. You told me, you
remember, that life had been a worthless

thing to you since she was torn from you,

t

which no success had been able to render
pleasant. You said more, you said that you
hoped that the end was not far off, that you
had suffered enough and waited enough,
and that though you had not seen her face
for five-and-twenty years, you loved her as
wildly as you did the day when she first
promised to become your wife.'294	the witch's head.

Mr. Cardus had risen, and was looking
through the glass door at the blooming
orchids. Dorothy got up, and following
him, laid her hand upon his shoulder.

' Reginald,' she said, ' think. Ernest is
about to be robbed of his wife, under cir-
cumstances curiously like those by which
you were robbed of yours. Unless it is
prevented, what you have suffered all your
life, that he will suffer also. Remember
you are of the same blood, and allowing for
the difference between your ages, of very
much the same temperament too. Think
how different life would have been to you if
any one had staved off your disaster, and
then I am sure you will do all you can
to stave off his.'

' Life would have been non-existent for
you,' he answered, 'for you would never
have been born.'

' Ah, well,' she said with a littlQ sigh, ' ITHE VIRGIN MARTYR.	295

am sure I should have got on very well
without. I could have spared myself.'

Mr. Cardus was a keen man, and could
see as far into the human heart as
most.

' Girl,' he said, contracting his white eye-
brows and suddenly turning r'ound upon her,
'you love Ernest yourself. I have often
suspected it, now I am sure you do.'

Dorothy flinched.

' Yes,' she answered, 41 do love him;
what then ?'

' And yet you are advocating my inter-
ference to secure his marriage with another
woman, a worthless creature who does not
know her own mind. You cannot really
care about him.'

'Care,about him!' and she turned her
sweet blue eyes upwards. ' I love him
with all my heart and soul and strength.
I have always loved him; I always shall296	the witch's head.

love him. I love him so well that I can
do my duty to him, Reginald. It is my
duty to strain every nerve to prevent this
marriage. I had rather that my heart
should ache than Ernest's. I implore of
you to help me.'

' Dorothy, it has always been my dearest
wish that you should marry Ernest. I
told him so just before that unhappy duel.
I love you both. All the fibres of my
heart that are left alive have wound them-
selves around you. Jeremy I could never
care for. Indeed, I fear that I used
sometimes to treat the boy harshly. He
reminds me so of his father; and do you
know, my dear, I sometimes think that on
that point I am not quite sane. But be-
cause you have asked me to do it, and
because you have quoted your dear mother,
may peace be with her! I will do what I
can. This girl Eva is of age, and I willTHE VIRGIN MARTYR.	297

write and offer her a home. She need fear
no persecution here.'

' You are kind and good, Reginald, and
I thank you.'

' The letter shall go by to-night's post.
But run away now, I see my friend de
Talor coming to speak to me,' and the
white eyebrows drew near together in a
way "that it would have been unpleasant
for the great de Talor to behold. ' That
business is drawing towards its end.'

' Oh, Reginald,' answered Dorothy, shak-
ing her forefinger at him in her old childish
way, 'haven't you given up those ideas
yet! They are very wrong.'

' Never mind, Dorothy. I shall give

I

them up soon, when I have squared accounts
with de Talor. A year or two more—a
stern chase is a long chase, you know—
and the thing will be done, and then I shall
become a good Christian again.'293	the witch's head.

The letter was written. It offered Eva
a home and protection.

In due course an answer signed by Eva
herself, came back. It thanked him for
his kindness, and regretted that circum-
stances and ' her sense of duty' prevented
her from accepting the offer.

Then Dorothy felt that she had done all
that in her lay, and gave the matter up.

It was about this time that Florence
drew another picture. It represented Eva
as Andromeda- gazing hopelessly in the
dim light of a ghastly dawn out across a
glassy sea. And far away in the oily
depths there was a ripple, and beneath the
ripple a form travelling towards the chained
maiden. The form had a human head and
cold grey eyes, and its features were those
of Mr. Plowden.

And so, day by day, Destiny throned inTHE VIRGIN MARTYR.	299

space shot her flaming shuttle from darkness
into darkness, and the time passed on, as
the time must pass, till the inevitable end
of all things is attained.

Eva existed and suffered, and that was
all she did. She scarcely ate, or drank, or
slept. But still she lived; she was not
brave enough to die; and the chains were
rivetted too tight round her tender wrists
to let her flee away. Poor nineteenth
century Andromeda! No Perseus shall
come to save you.

The sun rose and set in his appointed
course, the flowers bloomed and died,
children were born, and the allotted portion
of mankind passed onward to its rest; but
no godlike Perseus came flying out of the
golden east.

Once more the sun rose. The dragon
heaved his head above the quiet waters,
and she was lost. By her own act, of her300

THE WITCH'S HEAD.

own folly and weakness, slie was undone.
Behold her ! the wedding is over. The echoes
of the loud mockery of the bells have scarcely
died upon the noon-day air, and in her
chamber, the chamber of her free and
happy maidenhood, the virgin martyr stands
alone.

It is done. There lie the sickly-scented
flowers, there too the bride's white robe. It
is done. Oh that life were done too, that
she might once more press her lips to Ms
and die!

The door opens, and Morence stands
before her, pale, triumphant, awe-in-
spiring.

' I must congratulate you, my dear Eva.
You really went through the ceremony very
well, only you looked like a statue.'

' Florence, why do you come to mock
me?'THE VIRGIN MARTYR.	301

' Mock you, Eva, mock you! I come to
wish you joy as Mr. Plowden's wife. I
hope that you will be happy.'

' Happy! I shall never be happy. I
detest him!'

' You detest him, and you marry him;
there must be some mistake.'

' There is no mistake. Oh, Ernest, my
darling!'

Florence smiled.

' If Ernest is your darling, why did you
not marry Ernest 1'

' How could I marry him, when you
forced me into this ?'

'Forced you! A free woman of full
age cannot be forced. You married Mr.
Plowden of your own will. You might
have married Ernest Kershaw if you chose.
He is in many ways - a more desirable
match than Mr. Plowden, but you did not
choose.'302	the witch's head.

' Florence, what do you mean ? You
always said it was impossible. Oh, is this
all some cruel plot of yours ?'

' Impossible ! there is nothing impossible
to those who have courage. Yes,' and
she turned upon her sister fiercely, ' it
'was a plot, and you shall know it, you
poor weak fool. I loved Ernest Kershaw,
and you robbed me of him, although
you promised to leave him alone, and
so I have revenged myself upon you.
I despise you, I tell you ; you are quite
contemptible, and yet he could prefer you
to me. Well, he has got his reward. You
have deserted him when he was absent and
in trouble, and you have outraged his love
and your own. You have fallen very low
indeed, Eva, and will fall lower yet. I
know you well. You will sink, till at last
you even lose the sense of your own humili-
ation. Don't you wonder what Ernest mustTHE YIEGI3|/-M^RTYE.	303

think of you now % There is Mr. Plowden
calling you—come, it is time for you to be
going.'

Eva listened aghast, and then sank up
against the wall, sobbing despairingly.

END OF VOL. II.

Clay and Taylor, Printers, Bungay, Suffolk:This book is a preservation facsimile produced for
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
It is made in compliance with copyright law
and produced on acid-free archival

60# book weight paper
which meets the requirements of
ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper).

Preservation facsimile printing and binding
by

Northern Micrographics
Brookhaven Bindery
La Crosse, Wisconsin
2015