Aletta Part 11

"You met the Patriot here not long since, did you not, Mr Kershaw?"

said Aletta, changing the subject with perfect ease.

"Which Patriot? There are so many patriots now," he replied.

"Why, _the_ Patriot. The one from Pretoria, of course."

"Andries Botma? Oh yes, I met him. We had some very interesting talk together. I had long wanted to see him."

"But--but--you are not of us," said the girl, looking up quickly from her work-basket.

"This little girl is a red-hot patriot, Colvin," said Stepha.n.u.s, resting a large hand lightly upon the silky brown coil. "But, to be serious, I hope this will all quiet down and find its level."

"Of course; are we not all jolly good friends together, Stepha.n.u.s? We don't want to be at each other's throats at the bidding of other people."

This remark brought Aletta up.

"But you said you had long wanted to meet the Patriot, Mr Kershaw. Why did you want to see him, then?"

"Because he is something unique--a really honest agitator. He means what he says and believes every word of it most thoroughly. He is full of _verve_ and fire--in a word, a strong man. His is an immensely striking personality."

"Well done, well done," cried Aletta, clapping her hands enthusiastically. "I shall make a convert of you yet. Oh yes, I shall."

It became bedtime. As she gave him his candle Colvin once more could not help being struck with the refined grace of Aletta's every movement--the soft, clear, thoroughbred tone of her voice. She seemed somehow to have been cast in a different mould from her sisters, to whom he had always pictured her as inferior both in looks and presence. It fairly puzzled him. The tones of her voice seemed to linger long after he had retired. He had had a long, tiring, exciting day--had undergone a very narrow escape for his life--which circ.u.mstance, by the way, he had not yet mentioned to his host, being desirous to sleep on it first, and having enjoined strict silence upon his retainer--yet, now that he should have dropped into a sound, recuperative slumber, he could not.

And the sole reason that he could not--as he must perforce admit to himself in the darkness and privacy of his chamber--was the recollection of this girl whom he had met but the first time that night--here, on a remote Dutch farm in the Wildschutsbergen. And she was "only a Boer girl!"

CHAPTER TEN.

"IF--."

"Well, child, and what do you think of 'our only Englishman'?" said Mrs De la Rey, as they were putting away the "early coffee" things the following morning.

"I like him, mother," replied Aletta. "I oughtn't to because I have heard so much about him. That is sure to start one with a prejudice against anybody. Still, I think I shall. Oh, wasn't Tant' Plessis killing about 'the only Englishman' and 'the only English girl'? By the way, was there anything in it?"

"Don't ask me. _I_ don't know," laughed her mother. "Only he seemed a little too anxious to deny it. One can never tell. May Wenlock is a very pretty girl."

"Is she? I never saw her. I remember Frank Wenlock--a good sort of boy, but something of a lout. Now, this one is ever so different."

"_Oh, mijn Vaterland_!" grunted a voice from the armchair. "There they are, jabbering English again--a tongue only fit for baboons."

Mother and daughter looked round quickly, exchanged a meaning smile, and went on with their subject. They were accustomed to the old woman's growls, and took no more notice of them than if she had been a discontented child.

"Let's drive over and see the Wenlocks one day, mother," said Aletta.

"I am curious to see the only English girl here. Besides, I shall be able to see in a moment whether there is really any fire beneath Tant'

Plessis' smoke. Yes--that will be great fun."

"What sort of ideas have you brought back with you from Cape Town, child?" cried Mrs De la Rey, apparently shocked though really intensely amused.

"That's all right, old mother. I have become 'advanced'--in fact, down there everybody took me for an English girl. And I have learnt to ride a bicycle. No, really, I wish I had one here. Only imagine Tanta's face if I went skimming along the road there down to the gate and back on two wheels. Heavens, I believe it would kill her. She'd get a fit,"

And again that silvery peal rang out long and clear.

"Aletta! Don't make such a noise, child. Why, you have quite startled Mr Kershaw--look, away down there at the bottom of the garden. He is looking up this way, quite startled."

"Is he? Where? Oh, I see," following her mother's glance through the window. "I think I'll go and talk to him. He is going to be fun, I believe. You know, I like the English--those of the better sort-- although I am a thorough patriot. This one is of the better sort--you can tell directly you see him, and you can hear it directly he opens his mouth. Oh _yes_, I've seen lots of them. Yes, I shall go and talk to him."

Away she went, singing to herself. Her mother could see her through the window, stopping here and there to pick a flower or train up a drooping bough. Colvin did not seem aware of her approach. His head was bent down, and he seemed to be filling a pipe.

"Gertruida!"

Mrs De la Rey turned with a start.

"What is it, Tanta?"

"Where has the girl gone?"

"Who? Aletta?"

"Who? Aletta? What other girl has just gone out, I would like to know?" snapped Tant' Plessis, bringing down her stick hard upon the floor. "Where has she gone?"

"Gone? Only to look at the garden after the rain," answered poor Mrs De la Rey, somewhat guiltily.

"Now you are lying, Gertruida," rapped out the old woman. "Ah, if I could only give you the _strop_ again as I used to do when you were a child!" shaking her stick viciously. "You, a mother of a grown-up family, to lie like that. Really you are a case to bring before Mynheer and the Kerkraad [Church Council]. You know perfectly well that that girl has gone out to flirt with the Englishman."

"She has not, Tant' Plessis. You have no right to say such things,"

retorted Mrs De la Rey, stung to momentary wrath. "It is you who are saying what is not true about my child."

"_Stil, stil_! So that is the result of all the _strop_ I used to give you, Gertruida--to call your elders liars! You think I know no English.

I do, although I would sooner die than speak the accursed tongue. I heard Aletta say she was going out to flirt with the Englishman."

"She didn't say 'flirt,' Tanta. She said 'talk.'"

"Well, well! What is the difference, I would like to know? To go out like that--to go up to a man and talk with him all alone in a garden!

So that is the result of sending her to learn English ways. English ways, indeed! No wonder the English were made, like the heathen of old, to fall before the rifles of the Patriots. They were. I have heard Mynheer say so, and if he doesn't know, who does?"

"I don't care what Mynheer says--or thinks, Tanta. I shall bring up my children in my own way," flashed out Mrs De la Rey, losing patience.

"In the devil's own way you mean, Gertruida," said the other, waxing very portentous and solemn. "Look at my own children--five girls and seven boys. My girls got plenty of _strop_"--("Surely they did!"

interpolated the listener to herself)--"and now that they are married they give theirs plenty too. For what says the Prophet Solomon in the Holy Book: 'Spare the _strop_ and you spoil the girl.' The Prophet did say that, for I have heard Mynheer read it out in church." The speaker herself could scarcely read. "Look at my girls. _They_ learnt no English ways."

In imagination Mrs De la Rey did so look, and beheld five women who were exact counterparts of their proud parent, albeit younger presentments, and each owning a large brood as heavy as herself. But she had had enough of this lecture, and began to cast about for a pretext to depart.

Aletta the while was tripping down the garden path, pausing, as we have said, as though to tend the flowers had been her sole object in coming out, and as she walked she sang:

"Spreek, Bronkersspruit, Met eerbied uit; Noem Potchefstrom by naam.

Pretoria en Langsnek pas, Ingogo en Majuba vas, Waar ons Verlosser met ons was, Vermeld die al te saam.

Vermeld die al te saam."