benita-第25节
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lowered; which at first went out; but presently burnt well enough。
This point settled; they brought their ladder; whereby Jacob descended
with a lantern。
In another minute they heard the sound of guttural German oaths rising
through the hole。 Mr。 Clifford asked what was the matter; and received
the reply that the place was a tomb; with nothing in it but an
accursed dead monk; information at which Benita could not help
bursting into laughter。
The end of it was that both she and her father went down also; and
there; sure enough; lay the remains of the old missionary in his cowl;
with an ivory crucifix about his neck; and on his breast a scroll
stating that he; Marco; born at Lisbon in 1438; had died at Bambatse
in the year 1503; having laboured in the Empire of Monomotapa for
seventeen years; and suffered great hardships and brought many souls
to Christ。 The scroll added that it was he; who before he entered into
religion was a sculptor by trade; that had fashioned the figure on the
cross in this chapel out of that of the heathen goddess which had
stood in the same place from unknown antiquity。 It ended with a
request; addressed to all good Christians in Latin; that they who soon
must be as he was would pray for his soul and not disturb his bones;
which rested here in the hope of a blessed resurrection。
When this pious wish was translated to Jacob Meyer by Mr。 Clifford;
who still retained some recollection of the classics which he had
painfully acquired at Eton and Oxford; the Jew could scarcely contain
his wrath。 Indeed; looking at his bleeding hands; instead of praying
for the soul of that excellent missionary; to reach whose remains he
had laboured with such arduous; incessant toil; he cursed it wherever
it might be; and unceremoniously swept the bones; which the document
asked him not to disturb; into a corner of the tomb; in order to
ascertain whether there was not; perhaps; some stair beneath them。
〃Really; Mr。 Meyer;〃 said Benita; who; in spite of the solemnity of
the surroundings; could not control her sense of humour; 〃if you are
not careful the ghosts of all these people will haunt you。〃
〃Let them haunt me if they can;〃 he answered furiously。 〃I don't
believe in ghosts; and defy them all。〃
At this moment; looking up; Benita saw a figure gliding out of the
darkness into the ring of light; so silently that she started; for it
might well have been one of those ghosts in whom Jacob Meyer did not
believe。 In fact; however; it was the old Molimo; who had a habit of
coming upon them thus。
〃What says the white man?〃 he asked of Benita; while his dreamy eyes
wandered over the three of them; and the hole in the violated tomb。
〃He says that he does not believe in spirits; and that he defies
them;〃 she answered。
〃The white gold…seeker does not believe in spirits; and he defies
them;〃 Mambo repeated in his sing…song voice。 〃He does not believe in
the spirits that I see all around me now; the angry spirits of the
dead; who speak together of where he shall lie and of what shall
happen to him when he is dead; and of how they will welcome one who
disturbs their rest and defies and curses them in his search for the
riches which he loves。 There is one standing by him now; dressed in a
brown robe with a dead man cut in ivory like to that;〃 and he pointed
to the crucifix in Jacob's hands; 〃and he holds the ivory man above
him and threatens him with sleepless centuries of sorrow; when he is
also one of those spirits in which he does not believe。〃
Then Meyer's rage blazed out。 He turned upon the Molimo and reviled
him in his own tongue; saying that he knew well where the treasure was
hidden; and that if he did not point it out he would kill him and send
him to his friends; the spirits。 So savage and evil did he look that
Benita retreated a little way; while Mr。 Clifford strove in vain to
calm him。 But although Meyer laid his hand upon the knife in his belt
and advanced upon him; the old Molimo neither budged an inch nor
showed the slightest fear。
〃Let him rave on;〃 he said; when at length Meyer paused exhausted。
〃Just so in a time of storm the lightnings flash and the thunder
peals; and the water foams down the face of rock; but then comes the
sun again; and the hill is as it has ever been; only the storm is
spent and lost。 I am the rock; he is but the wind; the fire; and the
rain。 It is not permitted that he should hurt me; and those spirits in
whom he does not believe treasure up his curses; to let them fall
again like stones upon his head。〃
Then; with a contemptuous glance at Jacob; the old man turned and
glided back into the darkness out of which he had appeared。
XIII
BENITA PLANS ESCAPE
The next morning; while she was cooking breakfast; Benita saw Jacob
Meyer seated upon a rock at a little distance; sullen and
disconsolate。 His chin was resting on his hand; and he watched her
intently; never taking his eyes from her face。 She felt that he was
concentrating his will upon her; that some new idea concerning her had
come into his mind; for it was one of her miseries that she possessed
the power of interpreting the drift of this man's thoughts。 Much as
she detested him; there existed that curious link between them。
It may be remembered that; on the night when they first met at the
crest of Leopard's Kloof; Jacob had called her a 〃thought…sender;〃 and
some knowledge of their mental intimacy had come home to Benita。 From
that day forward her chief desire had been to shut a door between
their natures; to isolate herself from him and him from her。 Yet the
attempt was never entirely successful。
Fear and disgust took hold of her; bending there above the fire; all
the while aware of the Jew's dark eyes that searched her through and
through。 Benita formed a sudden determination。 She would implore her
father to come away with her。
Of course; such an attempt would be terribly dangerous。 Of the
Matabele nothing had been seen; but they might be about; and even if
enough cattle could be collected to draw the waggon; it belonged to
Meyer as much as to her father; and must therefore be left for him。
Still; there remained the two horses; which the Molimo had told her
were well and getting fat。
At this moment Meyer rose and began to speak to her。
〃What are you thinking of; Miss Clifford?〃 he asked in his soft
foreign voice。
She started; but answered readily enough:
〃Of the wood which is green; and the kid cutlets which are getting
smoked。 Are you not tired of kid; Mr。 Meyer?〃 she went on。
He waved the question aside。 〃You are so goodoh! I mean itso
really good that you should not tell stories even about small things。
The wood is not green; I cut it myself from a dead tree; and the meat
is not smoked; nor were you thinking of either。 You were thinking of
me; as I was thinking of you; but what exactly was in your mind; this
time I do not know; and that is why I ask you to tell me。〃
〃Really; Mr。 Meyer;〃 she answered flushing; 〃my mind is my own
property。〃
〃Ah! do you say so? Now I hold otherwisethat it is my property; as
mine is yours; a gift that Nature has given to each of us。〃
〃I seek no such gift;〃 she answered; but even then; much as she would
have wished to do so; she could not utter a falsehood; and deny this
horrible and secret intimacy。
〃I am sorry for that; as I think it very precious; more precious even
than the gold which we cannot find; for Miss Clifford; it brings me
nearer you。〃
She turned upon him; but he held up his hand; and went on:
〃Oh! do not be angry with me; and do not fear that I am going to
trouble you with soft speeches; for I shall not; unless a time should
come; as I think that perhaps it will; when you may wish to listen to
them。 But I want to point out something to you; Miss Clifford。 Is it
not a wonderful thing that our minds should be so in tune; and is
there not an object in all this? Did I believe as you do; I should say
that it was Heaven working in usno: do not answer that the working
comes from lower down。 I take no credit for reading that upon your
lips; the retort is too easy and obvious。 I am content to say;
however; that the work is that of instinct and nature; or; if you
will; of fate; pointing out a road by which together we might travel
to great ends。〃
〃I travel my road alone; Mr。 Meyer。〃
〃I know; I know; and that is the pity of it。 The trouble between man
and woman is that not in one case out of a million; even if they be
lovers; do they understand each other。 Their eyes may seek one
another; their hands and lips may meet; and yet they remain distinct;
apart; and often antagonistic。 There is no communication of the soul。
But when it chances to be hewn from the same rock as it wereoh! then
what happiness may be theirs; and what opportunities!〃
〃Possibly; Mr。 Meyer; but; to be