THE
SIGN or*
"THE
SPIDER
THE
SIGN OF THE SPIDER
BY
BERTRAM MITFORD
AUTHOR OF "A VELDT OFFICIAL," " 'TWIXT
SNOW AND FIRE"
DODD MEAD AND COMPANY
1897
COPYRIGHT, 1896,
BY
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER " PACK
I. " SWEET HOME," i
II. ADAM'S FIRST WIFE, u
III. " BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS," . . .26
IV. THE LAND OF PROMISE, .... 41
V. KING SCRIP, 54
VI. " PIRATE " HAZON, 67
VII. "THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER ..." . .82
VIII. DARK DAYS, 94
IX. His GUARDIAN ANGEL, 106
X. PREPARATION, 120
XI. " AT THE TWELFTH HOUR," . . . .130
XII. "THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH," . . 145
XIII. THE MAN HUNTER, . . . . . .155
XIV. A DREAM, 163
XV. AN AWAKENING, . . . . . . .174
XVI. AN ANGEL UNAWARES 184
XVII. DISSENSIONS, 195
XVIII. Two PERILS, 205
XIX. THE SIGN, 215
XX. TOW HATEND!
iv CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
XXI. " THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS FROM THE
NORTH," 235
XXII. THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY, . . . 246
XXIII. LlNDELA, 257
XXIV. As FROM THE DEAD, 268
XXV. His LIFE FOR His FRIEND 279
XXVI. THE PLACE OF THE HORROR, . . . 290
XXVII. THE HORROR, 301
XXVIII. " ONLY A SAVAGE ! " 313
XXIX. " A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE," . . .324
XXX. " GOOD-BYE, MY IDEAL !" .... 334
XXXI. CONCLUSION, 348
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
CHAPTER L,^v j V.
" SWEET HOME! '* ' /. ; J ; f, '
SHE was talking a him.
This was a thing she frequently did, and she had
two ways of doing it. One was to talk at him through
a third party when they two were not alone together;
the other to convey moralizings and innuendo for his
edification when they were as in the present case.
Just now she was extolling the superabundant
virtues of somebody else's husband, with a tone and
meaning which were intended to convey to Laurence
Stanninghame that she wished to Heaven one-
twentieth part of them was vested in hers.
He was accustomed to being thus talked at. He
ought to be, seeing he had known about thirteen years
of it, on and off. But he did not like it any the better
from force of habit. We doubt if anybody ever does.
However, he had long ceased to take any notice, in
the way of retort, no matter how acrid the tone, how
biting the innuendo. Now, pushing back his chair
from the breakfast-table, he got up, and, turning to
the mantelpiece, proceeded to fill a pipe. His spouse,
exasperated by his silence, continued to talk at his
back.
, * THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The sickly rays of the autumn sun struggled feebly
through the murk of the suburban atmosphere, creep-
ing half-ashamedly over the well-worn carpet, then
up to the dingy wall-paper, whose dinginess had this
redeeming point, that it toned down what otherwise
would have been staring, crude, hideous. The furni-
ture was battered and worn, and there was an atmos-
{jl\eFe of \(JuJtJfl|s,- thick-laid, grimy, which seemed
jnseparable^frorri 'fhe^ place. In the street a piano-
fcii^atos^e.ngfiteetfefl'.by/a brace of sham Italians, was
rapping out the latest music-hall abomination. Lau-
rence Stanninghame turned again to his wife, who was
still seated at the table.
" Continue," he said. " It is a great art knowing
when to make the most of one's opportunities, which,
for present purposes, may be taken to mean that
you had better let off all the steam you can, for you
have only two days more to do it in only two whole
days."
" Going away again? " (staccato).
Laurence nodded, and emitted a cloud or two of
smoke.
There rumbled forth a cannonade of words, which
did not precisely express approval. Then, staccato:
" Where are you going to this time? "
" Johannesburg."
"What? But it's nonsense."
" It's fact."
" Well of course you can't go."
" Who says so? "
" Of course you can't go, and leave us here all
alone," she replied, speaking quickly. " Why, it's too
"SWEET HOME!"
preposterous! I've been treated shamefully enough
all these years, but this puts the crowning straw on to
it," she went on, beginning to mix her metaphor, as
angry people and especially angry women will.
" Of course you can't go ! "
To one statement, as made above, he was at no
pains to reply. He had heard it so often that it had
long since passed into the category of " not new, not
true, and doesn't matter." To the other he answered :
" I've an idea that the term ' of course ' makes the
other way; I can go, and I am going in fact, I have
already booked my passage by the Persian, sailing
from Southampton the day after to-morrow. Look!
will that convince you?" holding out the passage
ticket.
Then there was a scene an awful racket. It was
infamous. She would not put up with such treatment.
It amounted to desertion, and so forth. Yes, it was
a " scene," indeed. But force of habit had utterly
dulled its effectiveness as a weapon. Indeed, the only
effect it might have been calculated to produce in the
mind of the offending party had he not already secured
his berth, would be that of moving him to sally forth
and carry out that operation on the spot.
" Look here ! " he said, when failure of breath and
vocabulary had perforce effected a lull. " I've had
about enough of this awful life, and so I'm going to
try if I can't do something to set things right again,
before it's too late. Now, the Johannesburg ' boom '
is the thing to do it, if anything will. It's kill or cure."
"And what if it's kill?"
" What if it's kill? Then, one may as well take it
3
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDEP.
fighting. Better, anyway, than scattering one's brains
on that hearth-rug some morning in the small hours
out of sheer disgust with the dead hopelessness of life.
That's what it is coming to as things now are."
" All very well. But, in that case, what is to become
of me of us?"
A very hard look came into the man's face at the
question.
" In that case draw on the other side of the house.
There's plenty there," he answered shortly, re-lighting
his pipe, which had gone out in mid-blast.
The reply seemed to fan up her wrath anew, and
she started in to talk at him again. Under which
circumstances, perhaps it was just as well that a couple
of heavy bangs overhead and a series of appalling yells,
betokening a nursery catastrophe, should cut short
her eloquence, and start her off, panic-stricken, to
investigate.
Left alone, still standing with his back to the mantel-
piece, Laurence Stanninghame put forth a hand. It
shook was, in fact, all of a tremble.
" Look at that! " he said to himself. " The squalid
racket of this rough-and-tumble life is playing the
devil with my nerves. I believe I couldn't drink a
wineglassful of grog at this moment without spilling
half of it on the floor. I'll try, anyhow."
He unlocked a chiffonier, produced a whisky bottle,
and, having poured some into a wineglass, not filling
it, tossed off the " nip."
"That's better," he said. Then mechanically he
moved to the window and stood looking out, though
in reality seeing nothing. He was thinking think-
4
"SWEET HOME!'*
ing hard. The course he had decided to adopt was
the right thing as to that he had no sort of doubt.
He had no regular income, and such remnant of capital
as he still possessed was dwindling alarmingly. Men
had made fortunes at places like Johannesburg, start-
ing with almost literally the traditional half-crown,
why should not he? Not that he expected to make a
fortune; a fair competence would satisfy him, a suffi-
ciency. The thought of no longer being obliged to
hold an inquest on every sixpence ; of bidding farewell
forever to this life of pinching and screwing ; of dwell-
ing decently instead of pigging it in a cramped and
jerry-built semi-detached; of enjoying once more
some of life's brightnesses sport, for instance, of
which he was passionately fond ; of the means to wan-
der, when disposed, through earth's fairest places
these reflections would have fired his soul as he stood
there, but that the flame of hopefulness had long since
died within him and gone out. Now they only evoked
bitterness by their tantalizing allurement.
Other men had made their pile, why should not he?
Rainsford, for instance, who had been, if possible,
more down on his luck than himself Rainsford had
gone out to the new gold town while it was yet very
new and had made a good thing of it. Two or three
other acquaintances of his had gone there and had
made very much more than a good thing of it. Why
should not he?
Laurence Stanninghame was just touching middle
age. As he stood at the window, the murky Septem-
ber sun seemed to bring out the lines and wrinkles of
his clear-cut face, which was distinctly the face of a
5
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
man who has not made a good thing of life, and who
can never for a moment lose sight of that fact. There
were lines above the eyes, clear, blue, and somewhat
sunken eyes, which denoted the habit of the brows to
contract on very slight provocation, and far oftener
than was good for their owner's peace of mind, and the
bronze underlying the clear skin told of a former life
in the open possibly under a warmer sun than that
now playing upon it. As to its features, it was a
strong face, but there was a certain indefinable some-
thing about it when off its guard, which would have
told a close physiognomist of the possession of latent
instincts, unknown to their possessor, instincts which,
if stifled, choked, were not dead, and which, if ever
their depths were stirred, would yield forth strange
and dangerous possibilities.
He was of fine constitution, active and wiry; but
the cramped life and squalid worry of a year-in year-
out, semi-detached, suburban existence had, as he told
himself, played the mischief with his nerves, and now
to this was added the ghastly vista of impending actual
beggary. Whatever he did and wherever he went
this thought would not be quenched. It was ever with
him, gnawing like an aching tooth. Lying awake at
night it would glare at him with spectral eyes in the
darkness; then, unless he could force himself by all
manner of strange and artificial means, such as repeat-
ing favourite verse, and so forth, to throw it off, good-
bye to sleep result, nerves yet further shaken, a
succession of brooding days, and system thrown off
its balance by domestic friction and strife. Many a
man has sought a remedy for far less ill in the bottle,
6
"SWEET HOME!"
whether of grog or laudanum; but this one's character
was in its strength proof against the first, while for the
latter, that might come, but only as a very last ex-
tremity. Meanwhile ofttimes he wondered how that
blank, hopeless feeling of having completely done with
life could be his, seeing that he was still in his prime.
Formerly eager, sanguine, warm-hearted, glowing
with good impulses; now indifferent, sceptical, with a
heart of stone and the chronic sneer of a cynic.
He was one of those men who seem born never to
succeed. With everything in his favour apparently,
Laurence Stanninghame never did succeed. Every-
thing he touched seemed to go wrong. If he
speculated, whether it was a half-crown bet or a
thousand-pound investment, smash went the concern.
He was of an inventive turn and had patented of
course at considerable expenditure a thing or two;
but by some crafty twist of the law's subtle rascalities,
others had managed to reap the benefit. He had tried
his hand at writing, but press and publisher alike shied
at him. He was too bitter, too bold, too sweeping,
too thorough. So he threw that, as he had thrown
other things, in sheer disgust and hopelessness.
Now he was going to cast in the net for a final effort,
and already his spirits began to revive at the thought.
Any faint spark of lingering sentiment, if any there
were, was quenched in the thought that the turn of the
wheel might bring good luck, but it was impossible it
could strand him in worse case. For the sentimental
side of it separation, long absence well, the droop
of the cynical corners of the mouth became more
emphasized at the recollection of that faded old fig-
7
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
ment, " home, sweet home," and glowing aspirations
after the so-called holy and pure joys of the family
circle; whereas the reality, a sort of Punch and Judy
show at best. No, there was no sentimental side to
this undertaking.
Yet Laurence Stanninghame's partner in life was
by no means a bad sort of a woman. She had plenty
of redeeming qualities, in that she was good-hearted
at bottom and well-meaning, and withal a most de-
voted mother. But she had a tongue and a temper,
together with an exceedingly injudicious, not to say
foolish twist of mind; and this combination, other
good points notwithstanding, the quality which should
avail to redeem has hitherto remained undiscoverable
in any live human being. Furthermore, she owned a
will. When two wills come into contact the weakest
goes under, and that soon. Then there may be peace.
In this case neither went under, because, presumably,
evenly balanced. Result warfare, incessant, chronic.
Having finished his pipe, Laurence Stanninghame
got out a hat and an umbrella, and set to work to
brush the former and furl the latter prior to going out.
The hat was not of that uniform and glossy smooth-
ness which one could see into to shave, and the
umbrella was weather-beaten of aspect. The morning
coat, though well cut, was shiny at the seams. Yet,
in spite of the wear and tear of his outer gear, with so
unmistakably thoroughbred a look was their wearer
stamped that it seemed he might have worn anything.
Many a man would have looked and felt shabby in this
long service get-up ; this one never gave it a thought,
8
"SWEET HOME!"
.or, if he did, it was only to wonder whether he should
ever again, after this time, put on that venerable
" stove-pipe," and if so, what sort of experiences
would have been his in the interim.
, Now there was a patter of feet in the passage, the
door-handle turned softly, and a little girl came in.
She was a sweetly-pretty child, with that rare combi-
nation of dark-lashed brown eyes and golden hair.
Here, if anywhere, was Laurence Stanninghame's soft
place. His other progeny was represented by two
sturdy boys, combative of instinct and firm of tread,
and whose gambols, whether pacific or bellicose, were
apt to shake the rattletrap old semi-detached and the
parental nerves in about equal proportions; constitut-
ing, furthermore, a standing bone of parental conten-
tion. This little one, however, having turned ten, was
of a companionable age; and to the male understand-
ing the baby stage does not, as a rule, commend itself.
She was full of the racket which had just taken
place overhead; but to this Laurence hardly listened.
There was always a racket overhead, a fight or a fall
or a bumping. One more or less hardly mattered.
He was thinking of his own weakness. Would she
feel parting with him? Children as a rule were easily
consoled. A new and gaudy toy would make them
forget anything. And appositely to this thought, the
little one's mind was also full of a marvellous engine
she had seen the last time she had been taken into
London one which wound up with a key and ran a
great distance without stopping.
Being alone for by this time he had come to regard
9
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
all display of affection before others as a weakness-
Laurence drew the child to him and kissed her
tenderly.
" And supposing that engine were some day to come
puffing in, Fay; to-morrow or the day after? " he said.
The little one's eyes danced. The toy was an ex-
pensive one, quite out of reach for her, she knew. If
only it were not! And now her delighted look and
her reply made him smile with a strange mixture of
sadness and cynicism. And as approaching footsteps
heralded further invasion, he put the child from him
hurriedly, and went out. Hailing a tram car, he made
his way up to town to carry out the remainder of his
sudden, though not very extensive, preparations.
Now on the following evening arrived a package of
toys, of a splendour hitherto unparalleled within that
dingy suburban semi-detached, and there was a great
banging of gorgeous drums and a tootling of glitter-
ing trumpets, and little Fay was round-eyed with
delight in the acquisition of the wondrous locomotive,
ultimately declining to go to sleep save with one tiny
fist shut tight round the chimney thereof. That would
counteract any passing effect that might be inspired
by a vacant chair, thought Laurence Stanninghame,
amid the roar of the mail train speeding through the
raw haze of the early morning. Sentiment? feelings?
What had he to do with such? They were luxuries,
and as such only for those who could afford to indulge
in them. He could not.
JO
CHAPTER II.
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
THE R. M. S. Persian was cleaving her southward
way through the smooth translucence of the tropical
sea.
It was the middle of the morning. Her passengers,
scattered around her quarter-deck in the coolness of
the sheltering awning, were amusing themselves after
their kind; some gregarious and chatting in groups,
others singly, or in pairs, reading. The men were
mostly in flannels and blazers, and deck-shoes; the
women affected light array of a cool nature; and all
looked as though it were too much trouble to move
or even to speak, though here and there an individual
more enterprising than his or her fellows would make
a spasmodic attempt at a constitutional, said attempt
usually resolving itself into five and a half feeble turns,
up and down the clear part of the deck, to culminate
in abrupt collapse; for it is warm in the tropical seas.
"What a lazy Johnnie you are, Stanninghame !
Now, what the deuce are you thinking about all this
time, I wonder? "
He addressed, who had been gazing out upon the
sea and sky-line, plunged in dreamy thought, did not
even turn his head.
" Get into this chair, Holmes, if you want to talk,"
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
he said. " A fellow can't wring his own neck and
emit articulate sound at the same time. What? "
The other, who had come up behind, laughed, and
dropped into the empty deck-chair beside Laurence.
He was the latter's cabin chum, and the two had
become rather friendly.
" Nothing to do and plenty of time to do it in," he
went on, stretching himself and yawning. " I'm jolly
sick of this voyage already."
" And we're scarcely half through with it? It's a
fact, Holmes, but I'm not sick of it a bit."
"Eh?" and the other stared. "That's odd, Stan-
ninghame. You, I should have thought, if anyone,
would be just dog-gone tired of it by now. Why, you
never even cut into any of the fun that's going such
as it is."
" You may well put that in, Holmes. As, for in-
stance listen ! "
For the whanging of the piano in the saloon beneath
had attained to an even greater pitch of discord than
was normally the case. To it was added the excru-
ciating rasp of a fiddle.
"Heavens! Are they immolating a stowaway cat
down there? " murmured Laurence, with a little shud-
der. " It would have been more humane to have put
the misguided brute to a painless end."
Holmes spluttered.
" It reminds me," he said, " of one voyage I made
by this line. Some of the passengers got up what they
called an ' Amusement Committee.' "
"A fearful and wonderful monster! "
" Just so. It's mission was to worry the soul out of
12
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
each and all of us, in search of some nefarious gift.
Oh, and we mustered plenty, from the 'cello to the
' bones.' Well, what is going on down there now is
sheer delight in comparison. Imagine the present
performance heaped up only relieved by caterwauls
of about equal quality and that from 6 A. M. until
' lights out.' "
"I don't want to imagine it, thank you, Holmes;
so spare what little of that faculty I still retain. But,
say now, when was this eventful voyage? "
" In the summer of '84."
" Precisely. I remember now. It was in the news-
papers at the time that in more than one ship's log
were entered strange reports of gruesome and wholly
indefinable noises heard at night in certain latitudes.
Some of the crews mutinied, and there was an instance
on record of more than one hand, bursting with super-
stition, going mad and jumping overboard. So, you
see, Holmes, your ' Amusement Committee ' doubly
deserved hanging."
The delicious readiness of this " lie " so fetched
Holmes that he opened his head and emitted a howl
of laughter. He made such a row, in fact, that neither
of them heard the convulsively half-repressed splutter
which burst forth somewhere behind them.
" Well, you were going to explain how it is you
haven't got sick of the voyage yet," said Holmes,
when his roar had subsided.
" Was I ? I didn't say so. What a chap you are
for returning to worry a point, Holmes. However, I
don't mind telling you. The fact is, I enjoy this
voyage because it is so thoroughly and delightfully
13
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
restful. You are not only allowed to do nothing, but
are actually expected to perform that easy and con-
genial feat. There is nothing to worry you abso-
lutely nothing not even a baby in the next cabin."
" I don't mind a little worry now and then," objected
the other, in the tone and with the look of one who
was ignorant of the real meaning of the word. " It
shakes one up a bit, don't you know relieves the
monotony of life."
" Oh, does it? Look here, Holmes; I don't say it
in an ' assert-my-superiority ' sense, but I believe I'm
a little older than you. Now, I've had a trifle too
much of the commodity under discussion. In fact, I
would take my chances of the monotony in order to
dispense with any more of the other thing."
Holmes cast a furtive and curious glance at his
companion, but made no immediate reply. He was an
average, good-looking, well-built specimen of Young
England, and his healthy sun-burnt countenance
showed, in its cheery serenity, that, as the other had
hinted, he was not speaking from knowledge. At
any rate, it was a marked contrast to the rather lined
and prematurely careworn countenance of Laurence
Stanninghame, even as his frank, jolly laugh was to
the half-stifled grin which would lurk around the
satirical corners of the latter's mouth when anything
amused him.
" What a row those women are making over there! "
remarked Laurence, as peal after peal of feminine
laughter went up from one of the groups above
referred to.
" That ass Swaynston, I suppose," growled the
14
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
other. " Don't know what anybody can see funny
about the fellow; he makes me sick. By the way, I
haven't seen Miss Ormskirk on deck this morning."
u That '11 make Swaynston sick, won't it? Isn't he
one of her poodles? "
"Eh? Her what?"
" Fetch and carry ; stand up on his hind legs and
beg. There good dog! and all that sort of thing,
you know; go to heel, too, when ordered."
Holmes laughed again, this time in rather a shame-
faced way, for he was conscious of having filled the
role whose subserviency was thus pungently charac-
terized by his cynical companion.
" Oh, dash it all, Stanninghame, don't be such an
old bear! " he burst forth. " A fellow can't help doing
things for a devilish pretty girl, eh? "
" A good many fellows can't, apparently, for this
one. Directly she appears on the scene they go at
her like flies at a honey pot. There's the doctor, and
the fourth brass-button man er, I beg his pardon,
the fourth ' officer,' and Swaynston, and yourself,
and Heaven knows how many more. And one gets
hold of a cushion which she doesn't want ; another a
wrap of which the same holds good; two of you
strive to rend a deck-chair limb from limb in your
eagerness to dump it down on the very last spot in
the ship where she desires to sit, what time you are
all scowling at each other as though there was not
room for any given two of you in the same world. I
don't want to hurt your feelings, Holmes, but, upon
my word, it's the most d ridiculous spectacle on
earth,"
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" I don't see why it should be," was the half-snuffy
rejoinder. " There's nothing ridiculous in common
civility."
" No, only to see you all treading on each other's
heels to do konza to a woman who's nearly losing her
life trying not to laugh at the crowd of you."
" Hallo! what's this? " sung out Holmes, not sorry
for an excuse to change the subject. " Why, you
used a Zulu word, Stanninghame, and yet you say
you never were in South Africa before."
" Well, and then? I've once or twice known fellows
use a Greek word who had never been near the land
of Socrates in their lives."
" Still, that's different. Every fellow learns Greek
at school, but no fellow learns Zulu, eh? "
" You can't swear to that. Well, never mind. Per-
haps I have been mugging it up as a preliminary to
coming out here. Note, however, Holmes, that I
used the word advisedly. Konza does not mean to
show civility, but to do homage, and that of a tolerably
abject kind in fact, to knuckle under."
" All the same, I believe you have been out here
before," went on Holmes, staring at him with a new
interest. " Only you're such a mysterious chap that
you won't let on."
" Have it so, if you will. Only, aren't you rather
drawing a red herring across the trail, Holmes? We
were talking about Miss Ormskirk."
" Urn yes, so we were. But, have you talked to
her at all, Stanninghame? I believe even you would
be fetched if you did."
" H'm well, I'd better leave it alone then, hadn't
16
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
I, seeing that I undertook this voyage not for love,
but for money? What's her name, by the way?"
Holmes stared. " Her name," he began " Oh
er I see; her other name? By Jove! it's an odd
one. Lilith."
"An old one too; the oldest she-name on record,
bar none."
" What? How does that come in? "
"Tradition hath it that Lilith was Adam's first
wife. That makes it the oldest she-name on record,
doesn't it? "
" Of course. What a rum chap you are, Stanning-
hame ! Now, I wonder how many fellows could have
told one that? "
" Well, I am a ' know-a-little-of-everything,' they
tell me," said Laurence, without a shade of self-
complacency. " But, I say, what do these two
want bothering around? Not another subscription
already? "
Two individuals, armed with mysterious pencil and
paper, were moving from group to group, with a word
to each. The hawk-like profile of the one bespoke
his nationality if not his tribe, even as the pug-nosed,
squab-faced figure-head of the other spoke to his.
" It's the ' sweep/ " said Holmes, with kindling
interest. "They're going to draw it in the smoke-
room. Come along and see it. It '11 be something
to do."
" But I don't want something to do. I want to do
nothing, as I told you just now, and Hallo! By
George, he's gone!"
One glance at the retreating Holmes, who was
17
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
making all sail for the smoke-room, and Laurence
tranquilly resumed his former occupation gazing
out over the blue-green surface, to wit. Not long,
however, was he to be left to the enjoyment of the
same.
" Can I have this chair? Is it anybody's? "
He turned, but did not start at the voice, which
was soft and well modulated. The two deck-chairs
had been backed against the companion, in whose
doorway now stood framed the form of the speaker.
Rather tall, of exquisite proportions, billowing in
splendid curves from the perfectly round waist, the
form was about as complete an example of female
anatomy as humanity could show of whatever race or
clime. The head, well set, was carried rather proudly,
the cut of the cool, light blouse displaying a pillar-
like throat. Hazel eyes, melting, dark fringed ; brows
strongly marked, enough to show plenty of character,
without being heavy; hair abundant, curled in a
fringe upon the forehead, and drawn back from the
head in sheeny, dark brown waves. Such was the
vision which Laurence Stanninghame beheld, as he
turned at the sound of the voice. Well, what then?
He had seen it before.
" It isn't anybody's chair," he replied, rising.
" Oh, thank you," she said, stepping forth. " No,
don't trouble; I can carry it myself," she added.
" Where do you want it taken to? " he said, ignor-
ing her protest, and thinking, with grim amusement,
how he was about to fulfil the very role he had been
satirizing his younger friend about, namely, fetch and
carry for the spoilt beauty of the quarter-deck.
18
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
"Oh, thanks; anywhere that's cool."
"Then you can't do better than leave it where it
is," he rejoined, with a quiet smile, setting down the
chair again and resuming his own.
Lilith Ormskirk smiled too, but she made no objec-
tion, sliding comfortably into the chair, and gazing
meditatively at the point of the neat and shapely deck-
shoe just peeping forth from beneath her skirt.
"What are they doing over there?" she began;
" drawing the ' sweep,' are they not? How is it you
are not there too, Mr. Stanninghame? Even those
of the men who won't help us in getting up any fun
are always ready enough for anything of that kind.
Well, I suppose it gives them something to do."
Something to do! that eternal " something to do! "
" But that's just what I don't want not on board
this ship, at any rate," he retorted. " It's a grand
opportunity for lazing, an opportunity that can't occur
often in life, and I want to make the most of it."
She glanced furtively at his face. It was a face that
interested her, had done so since she first beheld it.
A very out-of-the-common face, she had decided ; and
the careless reserve, the very indifference of its owner's
habit of speech, had powerfully added to her interest.
They had met before, had exchanged a few words now
and again, but had never conversed.
" A thing that is a standing puzzle to me," he went
on " would be, rather, if I knew a little less of human
nature is the alacrity with which people waste their
precious time in order to make a few shillings. It
isn't a craving after profit either, for there can't be
much profit about it. Yet Myers there, the Hebraic
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
instinct ever to the fore, must needs throw away the
splendid recuperative opportunities afforded by a sea
voyage, must needs spend the whole of each and every
morning getting up that miserable ' sweep/ It must
be the sheer Hebraic instinct of delighting to handle
coin the ecstasy of contact with it even."
"And the other the one who helps him? He's
not Hebraic?"
" No, he's English. Therefore he must be forever
' getting up ' something. We pride ourselves upon
our solid deliberation, yet we are about the fussiest
and most interfering race on the face of the globe."
"Then you don't have anything to do with the
popular midday delight? "
" Oh, yes. I hand them my shilling every morning
when they come round, and pouch tranquilly later on
what they see fit to restore to me as the result of that
modest investment."
She laughed, and as she did so Laurence looked her
full in the face. He wanted to find out again what
there could be in this girl that reduced everybody to
subjection so utter and complete. Was it in the swift
flash of the fringed eyes, in the sensuous attractiveness
of a certain swarthy, golden, mantling shade of colour
which harmonized so well with the bright clearness
of the eyes, with the smooth serenity of the brow? He
could not determine; yet in that brief fraction of a
moment, as he looked, he was uneasily conscious of
a certain magnetic thrill communicating itself even
to him.
" You are stronger-minded than I am," she said.
" I'm afraid I bet shockingly at times."
20
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
" Well, whenever I do I invariably lose, which is a
first rate curative to any temptation towards that
especial form of dissipation."
" Look now, Mr. Stanninghame, I'm going to take
you to task," she went on. " Why won't you ever
help us in getting up anything? "
" But I do help you."
" You do? Why, there was that concert the other
night you refused when you were asked to take part
in it."
" But I did take part in it as audience. You must
have an audience, you know. It's essential to the
performance."
" Don't be provoking, now," she said, with a laugh
which belied the rebuke, for this sort of fencing de-
lighted her. " You never take part in our dances."
" Dances? Did you ever happen to notice the top
of my head?"
" I don't think so," she replied, with a splutter of
mirth, wondering what whimsicality was coming next.
"Why?"
" Only that its covering is getting rather thin, as no
self-respecting haircutter ever loses the opportunity of
reminding me."
" That's nothing. Look at Mr. Dyson, for in-
stance. Now he might say that. Yet he is a most
indefatigable dancer."
" Yes, and that ostrich-egg of his bobbing up and
down above the gay and giddy rout is one of the most
ridiculous sights on earth. Are you urging me to
furnish a similar absurdity? "
" But you might do something to help amuse us.
In fact, it is only your duty."
21
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Hallo ! Excuse me, Miss Ormskirk, but that's
exactly what that fellow Mac Mac something I
never can remember his name the doctor, you know
was trying to drive into me the other night. I told
him I didn't come on board this ship for the purpose
of amusing my fellow-creatures not any but with
the object of being transported to Cape Town with
all possible despatch."
" Then you leave the ship at Cape Town? Are
you, too, going on to Johannesburg?"
" Not being dead, yes."
" Not being dead? Why, what in the world do you
mean?"
" Oh, only that Holmes was asking after all his old
friends one night in the smoke-room, and all who
were not dead had gone to Johannesburg. Others
I've heard talking the same way. So I've got into
the habit of thinking there are but two states death
and Johannesburg."
" Tell me, Mr. Stanninghame," said Lilith, strug-
gling with a laugh, "are you ever by any chance
serious? "
"Oh, yes; I'm never anything else."
She hardly felt inclined to laugh now. There was
a subtle something in the tone a something under-
lying the whimsicality of the words, that seemed to
quell her rising mirth. Again she glanced at his face,
and felt her interest deepen tenfold.
"We may meet again then," she said, her tone
unconsciously softening; " I am going to Johannes-
burg soon."
Meet again? Why, they had only just met; and
22
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
what was it to him? Yet still more was he conscious
of a thrill as of latent witchery thrown over him, as
he lounged there in the warm luxuriousness of the
tropical noontide, with which this beautiful creature
at his side, in her careless^attitude, all symmetry and
grace, seemed so wholly in keeping.
" What a strange name that is of yours," he said, in
the abrupt, unthought-out way which was so charac-
teristic of him.
She started slightly at its very abruptness, then
smiled.
"Is it?" she said; "well, your own is not a very
common one."
" No, it isn't; which is a bore at times, because
people will persist in spelling it wrong. It might
have been worse, though. They went in for giving
us all more or less cloth-of-gold sort of names, though
mine smacks rather of the cloister than of the lists.
One of my brothers they dubbed Aylmer. He was
in a regiment, and the mess would persist in calling
him Jack, for short. He resented it at first after-
wards came to prefer it. Said it was more con-
venient. Well, it was."
" Mine is older than that. The very oldest femi-
nine name on record," she said, with just a spice of
quiet mischief. " Lilith was Adam's first wife."
If she thought the other was going to look foolish
at hearing his own words thus reproduced in such
literal fashion, she never made a greater mistake in
her life.
" So tradition hath it," he rejoined, with perfect un-
concern. " It's a queer out-of-the-way sort of name
23
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
I'm not sure I don't rather like it. There's a creep-
ing suggestion of witchery about it, too, which is on
the whole attractive."
He was looking at her straight in the eyes, for they
had both risen, the luncheon-bell having rung. She
unflinchingly returned the glance, which on both
sides was that of two adversaries mentally appraising
each other prior to a rapier-bout.
" Then beware such unholy spells," she replied,
with a light but enigmatical laugh. And turning, she
left him.
Now Holmes, who, bursting with astonishment and
trepidation as he beheld how his friend was en-
gaged, came bustling up, with a scared and furtive
demeanour.
" By the Lord, old man, we just have put our foot
in it," he sputtered. " All the time we were sitting
here, Miss Ormskirk was just inside the companion.
She must have heard every word we said."
" Don't care a hang if she did."
" Man alive, but we were talking about her! About
her, and she heard it! Don't you understand?"
"Perfectly; still I don't care a hang. A hang?
No, nor the rope, nor the drop, nor the whole jolly
gallows do I care. Will that do?"
Holmes gasped. This fellow Stanninghame was a
lunatic. Mad, by Jove! Still gasping as he thought
of the enormity of the situation, he left without
another word, diving below to try and drown his con-
fusion in a whisky and soda, iced.
But the other, still lingering on the now deserted
deck, was conscious of a very unwonted sensation.
24
ADAM'S FIRST WIFE.
The spell which he had derided so bitterly when be-
holding others drawn within its toils had begun to
weave itself around him. This vague stirring of his
mental pulses, what did it mean? Heavens! it was
horrible. It brought back old memories, whose tin-
pot unreality was never recalled save as subject matter
for bitter gibe and mockery. He could not have
believed it possible.
" It's the nerves," he told himself. " These years
of squalid worry have done it. My nerves are shaken
to bits. Well, I must pull them together again. But
oh, the bosh of it! the utter bosh of it! "
CHAPTER III.
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
THE sway of Lilith Ormskirk over the saloon and
quarter-deck of the Persian was as complete as any
woman's sway ever is. From the grizzled captain
nominally under whose charge she was making the
voyage down to the newly emancipated schoolboy
going out to seek employment, the male element was,
with scarcely an exception, her collective slave.
Among the women, of course, her rule was less com-
plete; those who were furthest from all possibility of
rivalling her in attractiveness of person or charm of
manner being, of course, the mose virulent in their
jealousy and the expression thereof. Lilith, however,
cared nothing for this, or, if she did, gave no sign.
She was never bitter, even towards those whom she
knew to be among her worst detractors, never spite-
ful. She was not faultless, not by any means, but her
failings did not lie in the direction of littleness. But
she always seemed bright and happy, and full of life
too much so, thought more than one of her per-
fervid adorers, who would fain have monopolized her.
She was in the mid-twenties that age when the
egotism and rather narrow enthusiasms and preju-
dices of the girl shade off into the graciousness and
savoir-vivre of womanhood. She could look back
on more than one foolishness, from whose results
26
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
she had providentially escaped, with an uneasy shud-
der, followed by a heartfelt thankfulness, and a sense
of having not only learnt but profited by experience,
which sense enlarged her mind and her sympathies,
and imparted to her demeanour a self-possession and
serenity beyond her years.
We said the male element, with scarce an exception,
was her collective slave. Such an exception was
Laurence Stanninghame.
Without being a misogynist, he had no great
opinion of women. He owned they might be delight-
ful frequently were up to a certain point, and this
was the point at which you began to take them seri-
ously. But to treat any one of them as though the
sun had ceased to shine because her presence was
withdrawn, struck him as sheer insanity. It might be
all right for youngsters like Holmes or Swaynston,
the licensed fool of the smoking room, or Dyson, to
whose senile enthusiasm for the mazy rout we have
heard allusion made the latter on the principle of
" no fool like an old fool " ; but not for him not for
a man in the matured vigour of his physical and men-
tal powers. Wherefore, when forced himself to ac-
knowledge the spell which Lilith had begun to weave
around him, he unhesitatingly set it down to im-
paired nerves.
As a direct result, he avoided the cause. It was
a cowardly course of action, he told himself. He was
afraid of her. If she could throw the magic of her
sorcery over him during a brief ten minutes of con-
versation, what the very deuce would happen if he
allowed himself to be drawn into anything approach-
27
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
ing the easy-going shipboard intimacy deck-walk-
ing by moonlight, chairs drawn up in a snug corner
during the heat of the day, and so forth! Who
knew what latent capacities for being made an ass
of might not develop themselves within him. He
felt really alarmed.
Let it not be supposed that any scruple on the
ground of conventionality, obligation, what not,
entered into his misgivings. For Laurence Stanning-
hame had been clean disillusioned all along the line.
He hadn't the shred of an illusion left. He had
started life with a fair stock-in-trade of good inten-
tions and straight ideas, and, indeed, had acted up
to them honestly, and in good faith. But now?
" I've had a h 1 of a time! " he would exclaim to
himself, during one of those meditative gazes out
seaward, for which we heard his younger friend
taking him to task. " Yes just that." And now,
only touching middle life, he believed in nothing and
nobody. He had become a cold, keen, strong-
headed, selfish cynic. If ever his mind reverted to
the fresher and more generous impulses or actions of
his younger days, it was with a contemptuous self-
pity. His view of the morality of life now was just
the amount of success, of advantage, of gratification
to be got out of it. He thoroughly indorsed the
principle of the old roue's advice to his grandson:
" Be good, and you may be happy but you'll have
d d little fun," taking care to italicise the word
" may." For he had found that the first clause of
the saw had brought him neither happiness nor fun.
With his fellow-passengers on board the Persian
28
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
he was neither popular nor the reverse. Among the
men, some liked him, others didn't. He was genial
enough, and good company in the smoking room,
but wouldn't do anything in the way of promoting
the general amusement and that voyage was a par-
ticularly lively one in the matter of getting things up.
The fair section of the saloon was puzzled, and could
not make up its mind whether to dislike him or not.
For the first, he consistently, though not ostenta-
tiously, avoided it, instead of laying himself out to
make himself agreeable though indications were not
wanting that he could so make himself if he chose.
For the second, the fact that he remained an unknown
quantity was in his favour, if only that the unfamiliar-
ity of reserve mystery never fails to appeal strongly
to the minds of women and savages.
It was not so difficult for him to avoid Lilith Orms-
kirk, if only that until that morning he had hardly
exchanged a hundred words with her at a time.
Wherefore the upshot of his resolve was noticeable
neither by its object nor by the passengers at large.
Holmes, indeed, who, having recovered from his con-
sternation, had been secretly watching his friend, was
anticipating the fun of seeing the latter fall headlong
into the pit whose brink he had so boldly skirted, so
openly derided. But he was disappointed. Lau-
rence, if he referred to Lilith again, did so in the same
casual, indifferent way as before, nor did he ever
terminate any of his dreamy and seaward-gazing medi-
tations in order to open converse with her, even
with such inducement as solitary propinquity on more
than one occasion,
29
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" By Jove! the fellow is a cross between an icicle
and a stone," quoth Holmes to himself, in mingled
wonder and disgust.
It was night warm, sensuous, tropical night.
There was dancing in the saloon, and the glare from
the skylight and the banging of the piano and chatter
of voices gave forth strange contrast to the awesome
stillness of the great liquid plain, the dewy richness
of the air, the stars hanging in golden clusters from
a black vault, the fiery eye of some larger planet roll-
ing and flashing among them as the revolving beacon
of a lighthouse. Here the muffled throb of the pro-
peller, and the rushing hiss of water as the prow of
the great steamer sheared through the placid surface,
furrowing up on either side a long line of phosphor-
escent wave. Such a contrast he who stood alone in
the darkness, leaning over the taffrail, could appre-
ciate nicely.
There were quick, light footsteps. Somebody else
was walking the deck. Well, whoever it was, he him-
self was screened by the stem of one of the ship's boats
swung in and resting on chocks. They would not see
him, which was all right, for he was in a queer mood
and not inclined to talk. After a turn or two, the foot-
steps paused, then something brushed his elbow in
the darkness, as suddenly starting away, while a half-
frightened voice exclaimed:
" Oh, I beg your pardon. I couldn't see anything
in the dark, just coming up out of the light of the
saloon, too. Why, it's Mr. Stanninghame ! "
30
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
To one who had been out of doors even a few
minutes it was not very dark, for the stars were
shining with vivid brilliancy. It needed not the sense
of sight, that of hearing was enough. Nay, more,
a subtile sixth sense, whatever it might be, had
warned Laurence Stanninghame of the identity of the
intruder.
" No case of mistaken identity here," he said.
" But how is it you are all by yourself? "
" Oh, I got tired of all the whirl and chatter. I
craved for some fresh air, and so I stole away," said
Lilith. " Why, how heavy the dew is here in these
tropical seas! " she added, withdrawing her arm from
the taffrail upon which she had begun to lean.
The man, watching her furtively, said nothing for
a moment. That same chord within him thrilled to
her voice, her propinquity. Doubtless his nerves,
high strung with recent worry, were playing the fool
with him. He was conscious of a kind of envenomed
resentment, almost aversion; yet his chief misgiving
at that moment, which he recognized with added
wrath, was lest she should leave him as quickly as she
had come.
"All by yourself as usual!" she went on, flashing
at him a bright smile. " Thinking, I suppose? "
" I don't know that I was. I believe I was trying
to realize the immensity and silence of the midnight
ocean, as far as that tin-pot racket down there would
allow one to realize anything. Then it occurred to
me how long it would take for the intense solitude to
drive a man mad if he were cast away alone in it."
31
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Not long, I should think," answered Lilith, gaz-
ing seriously out over the smooth, oily sea. "The
horror of it would soon do that for me."
" And yet why should it have such an effect at all? "
he went on. " The grandeur of the situation ought
to counterpoise any such weakness. Given enough
to support life without undue stinting, with a certainty
of rescue at the end, and, I think, a fortnight as cast-
away in these waveless seas would be an uncommonly
interesting experience."
"What? A fortnight? A whole fortnight in
ghastly solitude! Silence only broken by the splash
or snort of Heaven knows what horrible sea monster!
Any consideration of peril apart, I am sure that one
night of it would turn me into a raving, gibbering
lunatic."
" Perhaps. People are differently built. For my
part, discounting the ' sea monster,' I am certain I
should enjoy the experience. For one thing, there
would be no post."
" But no more there is here on board," she said,
struggling with the laugh which the dry irrelevancy
had brought to her lips.
" No but there's Swaynston."
This time the laugh came rippling outright, and
through it came the sound of footsteps.
" Oh, here you are, Miss Ormskirk. I've been
looking for you everywhere. This is our dance."
Lilith, catching the satirical twinkle in the other's
eyes in the starlight, did not know which way to turn
to control an overmastering impulse to laugh un-
interruptedly for about five minutes, the cruel part
32
-BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
of it being that the interrupter was Swaynston
himself.
The latter, a pursy individual, was holding out an
arm somewhat in the attitude of a seal's flipper; but
Lilith did not take it.
" Do be very good-natured and excuse me," she
said. " I don't want to dance any more to-night; the
noise and heat have made my head ache."
" Really, really? I'll find you a chair then, in some
quiet corner," fussed Swaynston. But Lilith seemed
not enthusiastic over that allurement, and finally, with
some difficulty, she got rid of him; he grinning " from
the teeth outwards," but consumed with fury never-
theless.
So that was why she had stolen away from them all,
to slip up and talk in a quiet corner with that fellow
Stanninghame, who was probably some absconding
swindler, with a couple of detectives and a warrant
waiting for him in Table Bay? Thus Swaynston.
Nor would it have tended to allay his irritation
could he have heard the object of it after his
departure.
" So you think he is worse than the post? " she said,
with a laugh in her eyes. " Yet he is one of the most
devoted of my poodles."
The demure malice of her tone no more discon-
certed the other than that former endeavour to show
him she had overheard his remarks by quoting
his own words.
" Oh, yes," was the unconcerned reply. " He sits
up on his hind legs a little better than any of them."
For a few moments she said nothing, seeming to
33
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
have become infected with her companion's dreamy
meditativeness. Then:
" And you are not tired of the voyage yet? You
were saying the other day that its monotony was
enjoyable."
" I say so still. Look! " he broke off, pointing to
the sea.
A commotion was going on beneath its surface.
Their grisly shapes vivid in the disturbed phosphor-
escence, drawing a wake of flame behind them,
rushed two great sharks. Hither and thither they
darted, every detail of their ugly forms discernible
on the framing of the phosphorescent blaze, even the
set glare of the cruel eye; and, no less nimble in swift
doubling flashes, several smaller fish were trying to
evade the laws of-nature the absorption of the weak-
est, to wit. There was something indescribably
horrible in the fiery rush of the sea-demons beneath
the oily blackness of the tropical waters.
" How awful! how truly awful! " murmured Lilith,
with a strong shudder of repulsion, yet gazing as one
fascinated at the weird sight.
" Yet it is the perfection of an object lesson, one
that comes in just in time to point the moral to my
answer," he said. " If those fish, now in process of
being eaten, were caught and kept in an aquarium
tank, it might be more monotonous for them than
furnishing fun and food to the first comer in the way
of bigger fish. Possibly they might yearn for the
excitement of being harried, though I doubt it. That
sort of philosophy is reserved for us humans. If we
knock our heads against a brick wall we howl; if
34
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
we haven't got a brick wall to knock them against we
howl louder."
" And the moral is?"
" Dona nobis pacein."
" I see," she said at last, for it took her a little while
to thoroughly grasp the application, partly distracted
as her thinking powers were in trying to find a deeper
meaning than the one intended. " Yet peace is a
thing that no one can enjoy in this world. How
should they when the law of life is struggle struggle
and strife?"
" Precisely. That, however, is due to the faultiness
of human nature. The philosophy of the matter is
the same. Its soundness remains untouched."
" Yet you are not consistent. You were implying
just now that, failing a brick wall to knock our heads
against, we started in search of one. Now does not
that apply to those who go out into the world to the
other end of the world instead of remaining peace-
fully at home? " she added, a sly sort of " I-have-
you-there " inflection in her tone.
" Pardon me. My consistency is all right. Beg-
ging a question will not shatter it."
"Begging a question?"
" Of course. For present purposes the said beg-
ging is comprised in the word ' peacefully.' See? "
"Ah!"
Again she was silent. The other, watching the flash
of the starlight on the meditative upturned eyes,
the clearly marked brows, the firm setting of the lips,
was more conscious than ever of the latent witchery
in the sweet, serene face. He would not flee from its
35
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
spells now, he decided. He would meet them boldly,
and throw them off, coil for coil, however subtilely,
however dexterously they were wound about him.
Meanwhile, two things had not escaped him : She had
yielded the point gracefully, and convinced, instead
of launching out into a voluble farrago of irrelevant
rubbish, as ninety-nine women out of a hundred
would have done in order to have " the last word/'
That argued sense, judgment, tact. Further, she had
avoided that vulgar commonplace, instinctive to the
crude and unthinking mind, of whatever sex, of
importing a personal application into an abstract dis-
cussion. This, too, argued tact and mental refine-
ment, both qualities of rarer distribution among her
sex than is commonly supposed qualities, however,
which Laurence Stanninghame was peculiarly able
to appreciate.
Then she talked about other things, and he let her
talk, just throwing in a word here and there to stimu-
late the expansion of her ideas. And they were good
ideas, too, he decided, listening keenly, and balanc-
ing her every point, whether he agreed with it or not.
He was interested, more vividly interested than he
would fain admit! This girl with the enthralling
face and noble beauty of form, had a mind as well.
All the slavish adoration she received had not
robbed her of that. It was an experience to him,
as they lounged there on the taffrail together in the
gold-spangled* velvet hush of the tropical night.
How delightfully companionable she could be, he
thought; so responsive, so discriminating and un-
argumentative. Argumentativeness in women was
36
"BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
a detestable vice, in his opinion, for it meant every-
thing but what the word itself etymologically did.
Craftily he drew her out, cunningly he touched up
every fallacy or crudeness in her ideas, in such wise
that she unconsciously adopted his amendments,
under the impression that they were all her own.
" But I have been boring you all this time," she
broke off at last. " Confess now, you who are nothing
if not candid. I have been boring your life out? "
" Then, on your own showing, I am nothing, for
I am not candid," he answered. " On the contrary,
it is an unadvisable virtue, and one calculated to
corner you without loophole. And you certainly
have not been boring me."
He thought, sardonically, what any one of those
whom he had caustically defined as her " poodles "
would give for an hour or so of similar boredom, if it
involved Lilith all to himself. Some of this must
have been reflected in his eyes, for Lilith broke in
quickly:
"No, you are not candid. I accept the amend-
ment, I can see the sarcasm in your face."
" But not on that account," he rejoined tranquilly,
and at the same time dropping his hand on to hers
as it rested on the taffrail. The act an instinctive
one was a dumb protest against the movement she
had made to withdraw. And as such Lilith read it;
more potent in its impulsiveness than any words
could have been. " Listen!" he went on. "I sup-
pose there is a sort of imp of scepticism sitting ever
upon one shoulder, and that is what you saw. Some-
thing in my thoughts suggested a droll contrast, that
37
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
was all. So far from boring me, you have afforded
me an intensely agreeable surprise."
" Now you are sneering again. I will not talk
any more."
He recognized in her tone a quick sensitiveness
not temper. Accordingly his own took on an uncon-
scious softness, a phenomenally unwonted softness.
" Don't be foolish, child. You know I was doing
nothing of the sort. Go on with what you were say-
ing at once."
" What was I saying? Oh, I remember. That
idea that board-ship life shows people in their real
character. Do you believe in it? "
" Only in the case of those who have no real
character to show. Wherein is a paradox. Those
who have got any well, don't show it, either on
board ship or on shore."
" I believe you are right. Now, my own character,
do you think it shows out more readable on board than
it would on shore."
" Do you think you have me so transparently as
that? What was I saying just now on that head?"
" I see. Really, though, I had no ulterior motive.
I asked the question in perfect good faith. Tell me
if anyone can, you can. Tell me. Shall I make
a success a good thing of life? I often wonder."
She threw up her head with a quick movement,
and the wide, serious eyes, fixed full upon his, seemed
to flash in the starlight. He met the glance with one
as earnest and unswerving as her own.
" You rate my powers of vaticination too high," he
said slowly, " and you are groping after an ideal."
38
-BEWARE SUCH UNHOLY SPELLS!"
" Perhaps. Tell me, though, what you think,
character-reader as you are. Shall I make a success
of life?"
" I should think the chances were pretty evenly
balanced either way, inclining, if anything, to the
reverse."
" Thanks. I shall remember that."
" But you are not obliged to believe it."
" No. I shall remember it. And now I must
go below; it is nearly time for putting out the saloon
lights. Good-night. I have enjoyed our talk so much."
She had extended her hand, and as he took it, the
sympathetic was it magnetic? pressure was mutual,
almost lingering.
" Good-night," he said. " The enjoyment has not
been all on one side."
Left alone, he returned to his solitary musings
tried to, rather, for there was no " return " about the
matter, because now they took an entirely new line.
His late companion would intrude upon them nay,
monopolized them. She had appealed powerfully to
his senses, to his mind, how long would it be before
she did so to his heart? He had avoided her he
alone up till then, and yet now, after this first con-
versation, he was convinced that of all gathered
there he alone knew the real Lilith Ormskirk as dis-
tinct from the superficial one known to the residue.
And to his mind recurred her former warning,
laughingly uttered: "Beware such unholy spells!"
With a strange intoxicating recollection did that
warning recur, together with the consciousness that
more than ever was it needed now. But as against
39
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
this was the protecting strength of a triple chain
armour. Life was only rendered interesting by such
interesting character studies as this. Oh, yes; that
was the solution that, and nothing more.
This was by no means the last talk they had they
two alone together. But it seemed to Laurence
Stanninghame that a warning note had been sounded,
and one of no uncertain nature. His tone became
more acrid, his sarcasm more biting, more envenomed.
One day Lilith said:
" Why do you dislike me so?"
He started at the question, thrown momentarily
off his guard.
" I don't dislike you," he answered shortly.
" Then why have you such a very poor opinion of
me? You never lose an opportunity of letting me see
that you have. What have I done? What have I
said that you should think so poorly of me?"
There was no spice of temper, of resentment, in
the tone. It was soft, and rather pleading. The
serious eyes were sweet and wistful. As his own
met their steady gaze, it seemed that a current of
magnetic thought flashed from mind to mind.
" I hold no such opinion," he said, after a few
moments of silence. " Perhaps I dread those ' unholy
spells,' thou sorceress. Ah! there goes the second
dinner-bell. Run away now, and make yourself more
beautiful than ever if possible."
A bright laugh flashed in the hazel eyes, and the
white teeth showed in a smile.
" I'll try since you wish it," she said over her
shoulder, as she turned away.
40
CHAPTER IV.
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
THE throb of the propeller has almost ceased;
faint, too, is the vibration of the slowed-down
engines. The Persian is gliding with well-nigh im-
perceptible motion through the smooth waters of
Table Bay.
It is a perfect morning, cloudless in its dazzling
splendour. In front, the huge Table Mountain rears
its massive wall, dwarfing the mud-town lying at its
base and the bristling masts of shipping, its great
line mirrored in the sheeny surface. Away in the
distance, the purple cones of the Hottentots Holland
mountains loom thirstily through a glimmer of sum-
mer haze. A fair scene indeed after three weeks of
endless sea and sky.
" And what are your first impressions of my native
land?"
Laurence turned.
" I was thinking less of the said land than of myself,"
he answered. " I was thinking what potentialities
would lie between my first impressions of it and my
last."
Just a suspicion of gravity came over Lilith Orms-
kirk's face at the remark.
" And are you glad the voyage is at an end, now
that it is? " she went on.
" You know I am not. It was such a rest."
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Which I was everlastingly disturbing."
" By wreathing those unholy spells. Lilith, thou
sorceress, how long will it be before those talks of
ours are forgotten? A week, perhaps?"
" They will never be forgotten," she answered, her
eyes dreamy and serious. " But now, I must go below
and finish doing up my things. We shall be in dock
directly."
A great crowd is collected on the quay as the
steamer warps up, above which rise sunshades
coloured and coquettish, pith helmets and sweeping
puggarees, and more orthodox white " stove-pipes."
Then in the background, yellow-skinned Malays in
gaudy Oriental attire, parchment-faced Hottentots,
Mozambique blacks, and lighter-hued Kaffirs from the
Eastern frontier. The docks are piled with luggage,
for the privilege of carrying which and its multifold
owners Malay cab-drivers are uttering shrill and com-
peting yells. On board, people are bidding each other
good-bye or greeting those who have come to meet
them; and flitting among such groups, a mingled ex-
pression of alertness and anxiety on his countenance,
is here and there a steward, bent upon sounding up a
possibly elusive " tip,' : or refreshing an inconveniently
short memory.
Near the gangway Lilith Ormskirk was holding
quite a farewell court. Her " poodles," as Laurence
had satirically defined them, were crowding around
Swaynston at their head for a farewell pat. The
last, in the shape of Holmes and another, had taken
their sorrowful departure, and now a quick, furtive
look seemed to cross the smiling serenity of her face,
42
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
a shade of wistfulness, of disappointment. Thus one
in the hurrying throng at the other side of the deck
read it.
" What a tail-wagging! " almost immediately spake
a voice at her side.
She turned. Decidedly the expression was one of
brightening.
" I thought you had gone had forgotten to say
good-bye," she said.
" I was waiting until the poodles had finally cleared.
Now, however, I have come to utter that not always
hateful word."
" Not in this instance? "
" Yes, distinctly. I have just heard there is to be
a special train made up we are in too late for the
regular mail-train, you know. So I shall leave for
Kimberley in about two or three hours' time."
Lilith looked disappointed.
" I thought you would have stayed here at least a
few days," she said. And then the friends who had
met her on board returned, and Laurence found him-
self introduced to three pretty girls fair-haired, blue-
eyed, well-dressed eke to a man tall, brown-faced,
loosely hung, apparently about thirty years of age
none of whose names he could quite succeed in catch-
ing, save that the latter was apostrophized as "George."
Then, after a commonplace or two, good-byes were
uttered and they separated Lilith and her party to
catch the train for Mowbray, her late fellow-passenger
to arrange for his own much longer journey.
Having the compartment to themselves, one of the
blue-eyed girls opened fire thus:
43
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
"Lilith, who is he?"
" Who? "
" He."
"Bless the child," laughed Lilith, "there were
about half a hundred he's."
" No, there was only one. Who is he? What
is he?"
" I don't know," replied Lilith, affecting ignorance
no longer.
" You don't know? After three weeks on board
ship together? Three whole weeks of ship life, and
you have the face to tell me you don't know anything
about him. After the way in which you said good-
bye to each other, too? Oh, I saw."
" Well, I don't know."
"Or care?"
" Chaff away, if it's any fun to you," answered
Lilith quite serenely, as the trio rippled into peals of
laughter.
" I liked the man, liked to talk to him on board
you are welcome to the admission but all I know is
that he is going to Johannesburg. We may never
see each other again."
" These English Johnnies who come out here, and
whom one knows nothing about, are now and again
slippery fish," gruffly spoke the brown-faced one.
" Watch it, Lilith."
" I thought this one looked as if he might be inter-
esting," said another of the blue-eyed girls. " Pity
he wasn't staying a day or two. We might have got
him out to the house and seen what he was made of."
44
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
" Watch it," repeated George sententiously.
' Watch it, Lilith."
Meanwhile, the object of this discussion and warn-
ing having resignedly " passed " the Customs at the
dock gates, was spinning townwards in one of the
innumerable hansoms. Sizing up the South African
metropolis, it gave him the idea of a mud city, just
dumped down wet and left to dry in the sun. Its
general aspect suggested the vagaries of some sportive
Titan, who, from the summit of the lofty rock wall
behind it, had amused himself, out of office hours, by
chucking down chunks of clay of all sorts and sizes,
trying how near he could " lob " them into the
position of streets and squares.
At that time the railway line ended at Kimberley
the distance thence to Johannesburg, close upon
three hundred miles, had to be done by stage. It
occurred to Laurence that, having a couple of hours
to spare, he had better look up the coach-agent and
secure a seat by wire.
The agent was not in his office. Laurence Stan-
ninghame, however, who knew the ways of similar
countries, albeit a new arrival in this, inquired for
that functionary's favourite bar. The reply was
prompt and accurate withal. In a few minutes,
seated on stools facing each other, he and the object of
his search were transacting business.
The latter did not seem entirely satisfactory. The
agent could not say when the earliest chance might
occur by regular coach. He might have to wait at
45
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Kimberley well, it might be for days, or it might be
for ever. On the other hand, he might not even have
to wait at all. He could not tell. Even the people
at the other end could not say for certain. Laurence
began to lose patience.
" See here," he said somewhat testily. " I haven't
been long in your country, but that's about the only
reply I've been able to meet with to any question yet.
Tell me, as a matter of curiosity, is there any one
thing you are ever certain of out here? Just one."
The agent looked at him with faint amazement.
" There is one," he said; " just one."
" Well and that? "
" Death. That's always a dead cert. Let's liquor.
Put a name to it, skipper."
The special train consisted of a mail van and a
first-class carriage. There being only three or four
other travellers each had a compartment to himself,
an arrangement which met with Laurence Stanning-
hame's unfeigned approval. He did not want to talk
especially in a clattering, dusty railway carriage.
At intervals the passengers foregathered for meals at
some wayside buffet or accommodation house, meals
whose quality was in inverse ratio to the exuber-
ance of the prices charged therefor, then each would
return to his own box and smoke and read and sleep
away the little matter of seven hundred miles.
On they sped for hours and hours on through
sleepy Dutch villages, whose gardens and cultivation
made an oasis on the surrounding flats on, winding
in a slow ascent through the gloomy grandeur of the
46
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
Hex River Poort, with its iron-bound heights rearing
in mighty masses from the level valley bottom.
Then it grew dark, and, the dim oil lamp being in-
adequate for reading purposes, Laurence went to
sleep.
" Afar in the desert I love to ride,"
sang Pringle, the South African bard.
" Pringle was a liar, or a lunatic," quoth Laurence
Stanninghame, to whom the passage was familiar, on
opening his eyes next morning and looking around.
For the train was speeding when not slowing
through the identical desert of which Pringle sang;
that heart-breaking, dead-level, waterless, treeless belt
known as the Karroo. Not a human habitation in
sight, for hours at a stretch the same low table-
topped mountains rising hours ahead, and which
never seemed to get any closer, looking, moreover, in
the distant, mirage-effects, like vast slabs poised in
mid-air and resting on nothing. At long intervals
a group of foul and tumble-down Hottentot huts, with
their squalid inhabitants lean curs and ape-like men;
their raison d'etre, in the shape of a flock of prema-
turely aged and disappointed-looking goats, trying all
they are worth to extract sustenance from the red shaly
earth and its sparse growth of coarse bush-like herbage.
Looking out on this horrible desert, the eye and the
mind alike grow weary, and the latter starts specu-
lating in a shuddering sort of a way as to how the
deuce anything human can find it in its heart to exist
in such a place. Yet though an awful desert in time
of drought it is not always so.
47
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
But gazing forth upon the surrounding waste,
Laurence was able to read into it a certain charm
the charm of freedom, of boundlessness, so vividly
standing out in contrast to his own cramped, narrow,
shut-in life. All the changed conditions the wild-
ness, the solitude, the flaming and unclouded sun
were as a new awakening to life. The current of a
certain joy of living, long since sluggish, congealed,
now coursed swiftly and without hinderance through
his being.
Now through all those hours of tedious travelling
in the flaming glow of day, or in the still, cool watches
of the night, he had with him a recollection Lilith
Ormskirk's face haunted him. Those eyes seemed to
follow him sweet, serious; or again mirthful, flash-
ing from out their dark fringe of lashes, but ever
entrancing, ever inviting. Her whole personality, in
fact, seemed to pervade his mind, warring for sole
possession, to the exclusion of all other thought, . all
other consideration. Into the conflict his own mind
entered with a zest. It was a psychological struggle
which appealed to him, and that thoroughly. She
should not, by her witchery, take entire possession.
Yet the recollection of her was so potent that at
length he ceased to strive against it. He gave way,
abandoned himself contentedly, voluptuously to its
sway, even aiding it in the pictures it conjured up.
Now he saw her, as he had first passed her, day after
day on board ship, with indifference, with faintly
ironical curiosity; again, as when they had first
begun to talk together; and yet again, when he had
found himself resorting to all manner of cowardly
48
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
mental expedients to persuade himself that he did
not revel in her dangerously winning attractiveness,
and sweet sympathetic converse. In the monotonous
three-four time beat of the wheels he could conjure
up her voice even the colonial trick of clipping the
final " r " in words ending with that letter as to
which he had often rallied her, while secretly liking
it for this, like a tpuch of the brogue, can be win-
some enough when uttered by pretty lips. Now all
these reflections could not but be profitless, possibly
dangerous, yet they had this advantage they helped
to kill time, and that during a thirty-odd-
hour journey across the Karroo. Well, it is an
advantage !
On through the long, hot day, and still that
memory was with him. The solitude, the stillness,
the mile after mile over the desolate and barren
waste, the novelty of the scene, the monotonous
rattle of the wheels all went to perpetuate it.
Then the sun drew down to the horizon, and the
departing glow, striking upon the red soil, painted
the latter the colour of blood, making up an extraor-
dinarily vivid study in red and blue. Overhead a
cloudless sky, the horizon all aflame, and the whole
earth, far as the eye could reach, steeped in the
richest purple red. Laurence fell fast asleep.
He dreamed they were steaming into Charing
Cross Station. Lilith was waiting to meet him. He
swore, in his dream, because they had halted on the
railway bridge too long to take the tickets. Then
he awoke. They were steaming slowly into a ter-
minus, amid the familiar flashing of lamps and the
49
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
rumbling of porters' trucks. But it was not Charing
Cross, it was Kimberley.
Not long did it take him to collect his scanty bag-
gage and fling it into a " cab," otherwise an open,
two-seated Cape cart. Hardly had he taken his seat
than the driver uttered a war-whoop, and, with a jerk
that nearly sent its passenger somersaulting into
the road, the concern started off as hard as its eight
legs and two wheels could carry it.
The night was dark, the streets guiltless of light-
ing. As the trap zigzagged furiously from one side
of the way to the other, now poised on one wheel,
now leaping bodily into the air as it charged through
a deep hole or rut, it was a comfort to the said passen-
ger to reflect that the road being feet deep in sand one
was bound to fall soft anyhow. Yet, candidly, he
rather enjoyed it. After thirty-three hours in a South
African " Flying Watkin " even this spurious excite-
ment was welcome.
They shaved corners, always on one wheel, some-
times even scraping the corners of houses, and causing
those pedestrians in their line of flight to skip like
young unicorns. Then, recovering, the startled way-
farers would hurl their choicest blessings after the
cab. To these, the madcap driver would reply with
a shrill and fiendish yell, belabouring his frantic
cattle with a view to attempting fresh feats. They
succeeded. It only wanted a bullock-waggon coming
down the street to afford them the opportunity. The
bullock-waggon came. Then a dead, dull scrunch
an awful shock and the cab was at a standstill.
The waggon people opened their safety-valves and
50
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
let off a fearful blast of profanity; the cab-driver
replied in suitable and feeling terms, then backed
clear of the wreck and whipped on.
Vastly amused by this lively experience, Laurence
still ventured to expostulate, mildly, and as a matter
of form. But he got no more change out of his
present Jehu than Horace Greeley did of Hank
Monk. The reply, accompanied by a jovial guffaw,
was:
" All right, mister. You sit tight, and I'll fetch you
through. Which hotel did you say? "
Laurence refreshed his memory and swaying,
jerking, pounding, into ruts and holes, the chariot drew
up like a hurricane blast before quite an imposing-
looking building at the corner of the Market Square.
Having paid off the lunatic of the whip and stood
him a drink, Laurence engaged a room, and won-
dered what the deuce he should do with himself
if delayed here any time. For the glimpse he had
obtained of the place seemed not inviting. The same
crowded bars, the same roaring racket, the same dust
yea, even the same thirst. He had seen it all
before in other parts of the world.
He was destined to wonder still more, and wearily,
what he should do with himself; for nearly a week
went by before he could secure a seat in the coach.
A great depression came upon him, begotten of the
heat and the drowsiness and the dust, as day after
day seemed to bring with it no emancipation from
the wind-swept, tin-built town, dumped down on its
surrounding flat and sad-looking desert waste. Yet
nothing akin to homesickness was there in his depres-
51
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
sion. He wanted to get onward, not to return. He
was bored and in the blues. Yet, as he looked back,
the feeling which predominated was that of freedom
of having a certain measure of life and its prospects
before him. Stay, though. His thoughts would, at
times, travel backward, and that in spite of himself,
and they would land him with a lingering, though
unacknowledged, regretfulness, on the deck of the
Persian. Well, that was only an episode. It had
passed away out of his life, and it was as well that
it had.
But had it?
At last, to our wayfarer's unspeakable joy, deliver-
ance came. It had been Laurence's lot to travel in
far worse conveyances than the regular coaches which
at that time performed the journey between Kimber-
ley and Johannesburg, a distance of close upon three
hundred miles; consequently, although not among
the fortunate ones who had secured a corner seat, he
managed to make himself as comfortable as any
traveller in comparatively outlandish regions has a
right to expect. His fellow-passengers consisted, for
the most part, of mechanics of the better sort and a
loquacious Jew not at all a bad sort of fellow in
conversation with whom he would now and then
beguile the weariness of the route. And it was weary.
The flat sameness of the treeless plains, as mile after
mile brought no change; the same stony kopjes;
the same deserted and tumble-down mining struc-
tures; the same God-forsaken-looking Dutch home-
steads, whose owners had apparently taken on the
52
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
triste hopelessness of their surroundings; the same
miserable wayside inns, where leathery goat-flesh
and bones and rice, painted yellow, were dispensed
under the title of breakfast and dinner, what time the
coach halted to change horses, and even then only
served up when the driver was frantically vociferating,
" All aboard! " Thus they journeyed day and night,
allowing, perhaps, three hours, or four at the outside,
for sleep on a bed. But the latter proved an in-
stitution of dubious beneficence, because of its far
from dubious animation; the said "animation"
scorning blithely and imperviously accumulations of
insect powder, reaching back into the dim past, left
there and added to by a countless procession of
tortured travellers. Howbeit, of these and like dis-
comforts are such journeyings productive, wherefore
they are scarcely to be reckoned as worthy of note.
53
CHAPTER V.
KING SCRIP.
" HALLO, Stanninghame ! And so, here you are? "
" Here I am, Rainsford, as you say ; and from what
I have heard in process of getting here, I'm afraid
I have got here a day too late."
The other laughed, as they shook hands. He was
a man of Laurence's own age, straight and active,
and his bronzed face wore that alert, eager look which
was noticeable upon the faces of most of the fortune-
seekers, for of such was the bulk of the inhabitants
of Johannesburg at that time.
" You never can tell," he rejoined. " Things are
a bit slack now, because of this infernal drought; but
a good sousing rain, or a few smart thunder showers,
would fill all the dams and set the batteries working
again harder than ever. It's the rainy time of year,
too."
It was the morning after Laurence's arrival in
Johannesburg, and, while sallying forth to find Rains-
ford, the two had met on Commissioner Street. The
brand-new gold-town looked anything but what it
was. It did not look new. In spite of the general
unfinishedness of the streets and sidewalks, the latter
largely conspicuous by their absence; in spite of the
54
KING SCRIP.
predominance of scaffolding poles and half-reared
structures of red brick; in spite of the countless
tenements of corrugated iron, and the tall chimneys
of mining works which came in here where steeples
would have arisen in an ordinary town; in spite of
all this there was a battered and weather-beaten
aspect about the place which made it look centuries
old. Great pillars of dust towered skywards, then
dispersing, whirled in mighty wreaths over the shining
iron roofs, to fall hissing back into the red-powdery
streets whence they arose, choking with pungent par-
ticles the throats, eyes, and ears of the eager, busy,
speculative, acquisitive crowd, who had flocked hither
like wasps to a jar of beer and honey. And to many,
indeed, it was destined to prove just such a trap.
" Well, what do you advise, Rainsford? " said
Laurence, after some more talk about the Rand and
its prospects.
" Wait a day or two. You don't want to buy in a
falling market. There are several good companies to
put into, but things haven't touched bottom yet.
When they do and just begin to rise, then buy in.
Meanwhile lie low."
" You speak like a book, Rainsford," said one of
two men who joined them at that moment. " There's
a capital company now whose shares are on the rise
again. Couldn't do better than take two or three
hundred of them. What do you say? "
" Name? "
" Bai-praatfonteins."
"I'll watch it!" said Rainsford, with an emphatic
and negative shake of the head.
55
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" I say, you don't want a couple of building stands?
They'll treble their value in as many weeks. Going
cheap as dirt now."
" Not taking any, Rankin," was the uncompromis-
ing reply, for Rainsford knew something about those
building stands.
" You're making a mistake. Bless my soul, if only
I had the money to spare, I'd take them at double
myself. I'm only agent in the matter, though. I can't
do any business at all with you fellows this morning."
All this was said in the most genial and good-
humoured tone imaginable. The speaker was a
spare, straight, neatly dressed individual of middle
age. His face was of a dark bronze hue, lit up
by a pair of keen black eyes, and his beard was pre-
maturely gray, almost white. The expression of
keenness on a deal was not characteristic of him
alone. Everyone wore it in those days.
" That was a great old shot you did on me, Rains-
ford, with those Verneuk Draais," cut in the other
man, in a jolly, hail-the-maintop sort of voice. He
was a tall, fair-haired, athletic fellow, whose condition
looked as hard as nails, "/a, it just was."
" Well, I'll buy them back if you like, Wheeler."
"How much?"
" Sixteen and a half."
A roar of good-humoured derision went up from
the other.
" Sixteen and a half? And I took them over from
you at twenty-eight. Sixteen and a half? "
" Well, are you taking? " said Rainsford.
" Dead off," returned the other.
56
KING SCRIP.
"What do you say, you fellows?" cut in the first
who had spoken. " A little ' smile ' of something
before lunch won't do us any harm. Eh? what do
you say? "
"/a, that's so. Come along," sung out the tall man,
spinning round upon one heel and heading for the
Exchange bar.
" There's nothing like an Angostura to give one
an appetite," said the dark man to Laurence as they
walked along. " It gives tone to the system. An-
gostura with a little drop of gin in it."
" With a little drop of gin in it? " repeated Wheeler,
with a derisive roar. " That's where the tone to the
system comes in eh, Rankin?"
"Only just out from home, are you?" said the
latter to Laurence as, having named their respective
*' poisons," the original four, with two or three others
who had joined them en route, stood absorbing the
same. "Heavens! did you ever hear such a row in
your life?" he went on, as through the open door
connecting with the Exchange came the frantic bawl-
ing of brokers, competing wildly for Blazesfonteins,
and Verneuk Laagtes, and Hellpoorts, and Vulture's
Vleis, and Madeiras, and Marshes, and up and down
the whole gamut. And there in the crowd lining the
bar, and in the crowd outside the Exchange, and in
the crowd upon Market Square, where the auctioneers
stood, well-nigh elbow to elbow, bellowing from their
tubs, and where you might bid for anything from a
building stand or a pair of horses to a concertina or a
pair of stays everywhere the talk was the same, and
it was of scrip. King Scrip ruled the roost.
57
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Just then, however, the subjects of King Scrip were
undergoing rather an anxious time, for the drought
was becoming serious. Dams being empty, batteries
could not work; result, scrip drawing within alarming
distance of touching its own value paper, to wit.
And as the dams became more empty, those with an
" n " appended became more and more full yea,
exceeding full-bodied, and both loud and deep. In
the churches they were praying for rain, praying
hard, for rain meant money; and in the bars they
were " cussing " for lack of it, " cussing " hard, on
the same principle. Then the rain came, and in the
churches they sang " Te Deum " ; and in the bars they
drove a humming trade in champagne, where " John
Walker " had been good enough before. Up went
scrip, and Laurence Stanninghame, having judiciously
invested his little all, cleared about three hundred
pounds in as many days. Things began to look
rosy.
By this time, too, Laurence got sick of hanging
around the Exchange and talking scrip. He had no
turn that way, wherefore now he was glad enough to
leave his affairs in the hands of Rainsford, who, being
an inhabitant of Johannesburg, was, of course, a
broker; and, having picked up a very decent No. 12
bore on one of the open-air sales aforesaid, laid him-
self out to see what sport was obtainable in the sur-
rounding country. This was not much, but it
involved many a hard and long tramp ; and the Trans-
vaal atmosphere is brisk and exhilarating, with the
result that eye and brain grew clearer, and his condi-
tion became as hard as nails. And as there is nothing
58
KING SCRIP.
like a thoroughly healthy condition of body, combined
with an equally healthy mental state, in this instance
the elation produced by an intensely longed-for meas-
ure of success, Laurence began to realize a certain
pleasure in living, a sensation to which he had been a
stranger for many a long year, and which, assuredly,
he had never expected to experience again.
For the market still continued to hum, and by dint
of judicious investments and quick turnings over,
Laurence had more than doubled the original amount
he had put in. At this rate the moderate wealth to
which he aspired would soon be his.
And now, with the ball of success apparently at his
feet, so unsatisfying, so ironical are the conditions of
life, that he was conscious of a something to damp
the anticipatory delights of that success. Those long,
solitary tramps over the veldt after scant coveys of
partridge, or the stealthy stalk of wild duck at some
vlei, were very conducive to introspection ; that wealth
which he imagined within his grasp did not now look
so all-in-all sufficing, and yet he had deemed it the
end and all-in-all of life. Even with his past experi-
ence the depressing, deteriorating effects, mental
and physical, of years of poverty in its most squalid
and depressing form, " shabby-genteel " poverty he
realized that even the possession of wealth might
leave something to be desired. In fact, he became
conscious of an unsatisfied longing, by no means
vague, but very real, which came to him at his time
of life with a sort of dismayed surprise. He would
give up these solitary wanderings in search of sport.
The sport was of a poor description, and the intervals
59
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
between were too long. He had too much time to
think. He would knock around the town a little for
a change, and talk to fellows.
One morning he was walking down the street with
Rainsford and Wheeler, the latter, who was an up-
country hunter, busy, in pursuance of the prevailing
spirit, in trying to trade him sundry pairs of big game,
horns, and other trophies, when he heard his name
called in a very well remembered voice. Turning, he
beheld Holmes.
" Stanninghame, old chap, I am glad to run against
you again ! " cried the latter, advancing upon him
with outstretched hand.
" I begin to believe you are," answered Laurence
genially, with a comical glance at the other's beaming
countenance. " Why, you actually have a look that
way. When did you get here? "
" By last night's coach. And, I say," trying to
look wondrously mysterious and knowing, " who do
you think travelled up by it too? "
" I can't even venture the feeblest guess."
"Can't you?" chuckled Holmes. "What about
Miss Ormskirk, eh? How's that?"
" So? Now I remember, she did say something
about a possibility of coming up here before long,"
replied Laurence equably, while conscious that the
announcement had convulsed his inner being with a
strange, sweet thrill. For it came so aptly upon his
meditations of late. The one unsatisfied longing
her presence. And now even that was to be fulfilled.
" You don't seem to take it over enthusiastically,
Stanninghame," went on Holmes. " And you and
60
KING SCRIP.
she were rather thick towards the end of the voyage,"
he added mischievously.
" Did you ever know me enthuse about anything,
Holmes? But it's about lunch time; let's go and
get some, and you can tell me what you have been
doing since we landed from the old Persian, and what
the deuce has brought you up here."
This was all very friendly and plausible; but before
they had been seated many minutes at lunch in a
conveniently adjacent restaurant Holmes was dis-
coursing singularly little upon his doings spread over
the weeks which had elapsed since he had landed,
but most volubly upon his recent coach journey con-
gested within a space of three days to which topic
he was tactfully moved by his audience of one and
also by his own inclination, as will hereinafter appear.
" Was Miss Ormskirk travelling alone, did you say,
Holmes?" queried Laurence, in initiation of his deft
scheme for " drawing " the other.
" Not much. There was a big parchment-faced
Johnny with her. He scowled at me like sin when
we were introduced was inclined to be beastly rude
in fact, until he saw that I er that I talked most
to the other; then he got quite affable."
" To the other? What other? Out with it, Holmes,"
said Laurence, with a half smile at his friend's thinly
veiled embarrassment.
" Oh, there was another girl in the crowd Miss
Falkner deuced pretty girl, too. The sulky chappie
was her brother."
"Whose brother? Miss Ormskirk's?" said Lau-
rence innocently.
61
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" No; the blue-eyed one's. At least they both
called him George."
" Yes. I remember they came on board the Per-
sian. You had landed already, I think. From your
description I recognize them. So they are up here?
Where are they staying? "
" At that outlying place where the coach first begins
to get among houses. I can't remember the name.
There's a biggish pub, you know, and a lot of houses."
" Booyseus?"
" That was it; Booyseus. They asked me to go
and see them. You'd better come along too, Stan-
ninghame. I say, d' you think it 'd be too soon if we
went to-morrow, eh? Sort of excuse to ask if they'd
recovered from the journey eh?"
" Was George so very exhausted then? "
"Oh, hang your chaff, Stanninghame! What do
you think? You're an older chap than I am, and
know more about these things. Would it be too soon
if we went to-morrow?"
" Be comforted, Holmes. As far as it rests with
me, you shall behold your forget-me-not-eyed charmer
to-morrow if she's at home."
The conversation worked round to the inevitable
topic, King Scrip. Holmes was fired with eagerness
when in his unenthusiastic way the other began to
tell of such successes as he had already scored. For
he, too, had come up there to take advantage of the
boom. He was eager to rush out there and then to
buy shares. Nothing would satisfy him but that
Laurence must take him round and introduce him to
Rainsford on the spot.
62
KING SCRIP.
But on the way to that worthy's office something
happened. Turning into Commissioner Street, they
ran right into a party of four. Result exclamations
of astonishment, of recognition, greetings from both
sides.
Three of the quartette we have already made the
acquaintance of. The fourth, Mrs. Falkner, a good-
looking middle-aged lady, was the aunt of the other
three, and with her they were staying.
" I've heard of you, Mr. Stanninghame," said this
one, when introductions had been effected. " I hope
you have made a success of Johannesburg so far.
Everybody turns up here. I can hardly come up to
the camp we used to call it that in the old days. I
was among the first up here, you know, and it's diffi-
cult to get into the way of calling it the town I can
hardly come up here, I was saying, without meeting
some one or other I had known elsewhere."
" Yes, it's an astonishing place, Mrs. Falkner,"
answered Laurence. " Only bare veldt but a very
few years ago, now a population of forty thousand
mostly brokers."
She laughed, and Lilith cut in:
" I thought you were going to adopt the Carlylean
definition of the people of England, Mr. Stanning-
hame."
" Oh, that '11 come in time. I only trust I may not
hold on too long to come under its lash."
" Let us hope none of us will," said Mrs. Falkner.
" Oh, dear, we are all dreadfully reckless, I fear. We
are nothing but gamblers up here. Have you caught
the contagion too, Mr. Stanninghame? "
63
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" I'm afraid so," he answered, thinking how, even
among the softer sex here, King Scrip bore the prin-
cipal sway.
He was thinking of something else at the same
time. Lilith was looking even more sweet, more
bewitchingly attractive than when last he had seen
her. There was a warm seductive glow of health in
her dark brilliant beauty, a winsomeness in her
simple, tasteful attire the cool easy-fitting blouse
and skirt in a soft harmony of cream colour and light
gray, and the plain, wide-brimmed straw hat of the
" sailor " kind which made, to his eyes, an irresistibly
entrancing picture.
She, no less than himself, was comparing notes as
two people will who have been apart for a space, and
have thought much of each other in the interim. He,
too, was improved in appearance. The fine climate,
the open-air life had lent a deeper bronze to his face
and a clearness to his eyes even as an emancipation
from sordid cares, together with a present modicum
of success and a prospect of further in the future, had
imparted a certain stamp of serenity to his expression
which was not there before. " Air, freedom, life's
healthier side are good success is good all good
things are good behold their result," was Lilith's
inner verdict as the summing up of this inspection.
Now George Falkner's efforts at cordiality were
about as effective as the demeanour of a crusty mas-
tiff encountering another of his kind well within sweep
of his owner's lash. His jealous soul had noted the
glance exchanged between his cousin and Laurence
Stanninghame the responsive glance which for a
64
KING SCRIP.
brief second would not be disguised; the great and
deep-reaching gladness, which shone in both pairs of
eyes as a result of this meeting. He stood gloomy
and grim, while the two were talking together, and
then rather brusquely and to the disgust of Holmes,
who was discoursing eagerly with pretty Mabel Falk-
ner he reminded his aunt that they were due to call
at So-and-So's, and were far behind their time.
" Ah, yes, I was forgetting. Well, good-bye, Mr.
Stanninghame. I hope you will come and see us.
It is nothing of a walk out to Booyseus, and besides,
there are several omnibuses in the course of the day.
Mind you come too, Mr. Holmes. Good-bye."
And the four resumed their way, and so did our two.
" Jolly, genial old party that Mrs. Falkner," pro-
nounced Holmes, half turning, slyly, to sneak a last
glance after the blue-eyed and receding Mabel.
" Spare my susceptibilities, Holmes, even in your
exuberance. That ' old party/ as you so unfeelingly
define her, cannot own to more than two or three
years seniority over my respectable self four at the
outside," said Laurence maliciously.
" Oh, go along with you, old chap," retorted
Holmes, yet conscious of feeling just a trifle foolish.
" But, I say," eagerly, " can we still go and look them
up so soon as to-morrow, eh? "
" Don't let that misgiving interfere with your
beauty sleep, Holmes," was the reply, dashed with
a touch of good-humoured impatience. " People are
not so beastly ceremonious over here."
" I've brought you another sheep to shear, Rains-
fix
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
ford," said Laurence, as they entered the broker's
office. " Don't clip him any closer than you did me,
though he's dying to set up as a millionaire on the
spot."
And then, having effected this introduction, he left
the pair to do business or not, as the case might be,
and strolled back to his own quarters.
What was this marvellous metamorphosis which
had come upon him, flooding his life with golden
waves of sweetness and of light? Now that he had
beheld Lilith once more, he realized what entire hold
she had taken of his thoughts since they two had
parted on the deck of the Persian. It was a certainty
there was no getting away from but a certainty now
which he was not in the least desirous of getting away
from. He had beheld her once more. Their meet-
ing had been of the briefest, their interchange of re-
marks of the most commonplace, every-day nature.
Yet he had beheld her, had listened to the sound of
her voice, had looked into her eyes. And the glance
of those sweet eyes had been responsive; and his ear
could detect a subtile note in the tones of her voice.
Sweet Lilith! the spells she had begun to wreathe
around him, so unconsciously to herself, so uncon-
sciously to him, when first they talked together, were
drawn, woven, more thoroughly now. And in his
strange, new revivification the return of strength
and health and spirits he rejoiced that it was so, and
laughed, and defied circumstances, and Fate and the
Future.
66
CHAPTER VI.
" PIRATE " HAZON.
IF the population of Johannesburg devoted its days
to doing konza to King Scrip, it devoted its nights
to amusing itself. There was an enterprising
theatrical company and a lively circus. There was
a menagerie, where an exceedingly fine young woman
was wont nightly to place her head within a lion's
mouth for the delectation, and to the enthusiastic
admiration of Judaea, and all the region round about.
There were smoking-concerts galore more or less
good of their kind and, failing sporadic forms of
pastime, there were numerous bars and barmaids,
all of which counted for something in the relaxation
of the forty thousand inhabitants of Johannesburg
mostly brokers. We are forgetting. There were
other phases of nocturnal excitement, more or less
of a stimulating nature frequent rows, to wit, cul-
minating in a nasty rough-and-tumble, and now and
then a startling and barbarous murder.
Now, to Laurence Stanninghame not any of the
above forms of diversion held out the slightest
possible attractiveness. The theatrical show struck
him as third-rate, and as for circuses and menageries,
he supposed they had been good fun when he was a
child. He did not care twopence about the. pleasures
of the bar unless he wanted a drink, and for bar-
67
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
maids and their allurements less than nothing. So
having already, with Rainsford or Wheeler, and seven
other spirits more wicked than themselves, gone the
round three or four times, just to see what there was
to be seen, and found that not much, he had sub-
sided into a good bit of a stay-at-home. A pipe, a
newspaper or book, and bed, would be his evening
program normally, that is; for now and then he
would stroll out to Booyseus. But of that more anon.
The hotel at which he had taken up his quarters
was rather a quiet one, and frequented by quiet
people. One set of rooms, among which was his,
opened upon a stocp, which fronted a yard, which
opened upon the street. Here of an evening he
would drag a chair out upon the stoep and smoke
and read, or occasionally chat with some fellow-
sojourner in the house.
One evening he was seated thus alone. Holmes,
who had taken up his quarters at the same hotel, was
out, as usual. We say as usual because Holmes
seldom stayed in at night. Holmes was young,
and for him the " attractions " we have striven to
enumerate above, and others which we have not,
were attractions. He liked to go the round. He
liked to see all there was to be seen. Well, he
saw it.
One evening Laurence, seated thus alone, became
aware that another man was dragging a chair out
upon the stoep, intending, like himself, to take the
air. Looking up, he saw that it was the man to
whom nobody ever seemed to talk, beyond ex-
changing the time of day, and that in the most
68
"PIRATE" HAZON.
curt and perfunctory fashion. He had noticed,
further, that this individual seemed no more anxious
to converse with other people than they were to
converse with him. He himself had never got
beyond this stage with him, although on easy and
friendly terms with the other people staying in the
house.
Yet the man had awakened in him a strange
interest, a curiosity that was almost acute; but
beyond the fact that his name was Hazon, and the
darkly veiled hints on the part of those who alluded
to the subject, that he was a ruffian of the deepest
dye, Laurence could learn nothing about him. He
noted, however, that if the man seemed disliked, he
seemed about equally feared.
This Hazon was, in truth, somewhat of a remark-
able individual. He was of powerful build, standing
about five feet nine. He had a strong, good-looking
face, the lower part hidden in a dark beard, and
his eyes were black, piercing, and rather deep set.
The bronze hue of his complexion, and of the sinewy
hands, seemed to tell of a life of hardness and
adventure; and the square jaw and straight, piercing
glance was that of a man who, when roused,
would prove a resolute, relentless, and a most danger-
ous enemy. In repose the face wore a placidity
which was almost that of melancholy.
In trying to estimate his years, Laurence owned
himself puzzled again and again. He might be about
his own age or he might be a great deal older, that
is, anything from forty to sixty. But whatever his
age, whatever his past, the man was always the same,
6 9
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
dark, self-possessed, coldly reticent, inscrutable, some-
what of an awe-inspiring personality.
The nature of his business, too, was no more open
than was his past history. He had been some months
in his present quarters, yet was not known to be
doing anything in scrip to any appreciable extent.
The boom, the one engrossing idea in the minds of
all alike, seemed to hold no fascination for Hazon.
To him it was a matter of absolutely no importance.
What the deuce, then, was he there for? His im-
penetrable reserve, his out-of-the-common and strik-
ing personality, his rather sinister expression, had
earned for him a nick-name. He was known all over
the Rand as " Pirate " Hazon, or more commonly
" The Pirate," because, declared the Rand, he looked
like one, and at any rate ought to be hanged for one,
to make sure.
Nobody, however, cared to use the epithet within
his hearing. People were afraid of him. One day
in the street a tough, swaggering bully, fearless in the
consciousness of his powers as a first-class boxer,
lurched up against him, deliberately, and with offensive
intent. Those who witnessed the act stood by for the
phase of excitement dearest of all to their hearts, a
row. There was that in Hazon's look which told
they were not to be disappointed.
"English manners?" he queried, in cutting, con-
temptuous tone.
" I'll teach you some," rejoined the fellow promptly.
And without more ado he dashed out a terrific left-
hander, which the other just escaped receiving full in
the eye, but not entirely as to the cheekbone.
70
"PIRATE" HAZON.
Hazon did not hit back, but what followed amazed
even the bystanders. It was like the spring of an
animal of a leopard or a bull-dog combining the
lightning swiftness of the one with the grim, fell
ferocity of purpose of the other. The powerful rowdy
was lying upon his back in the red dust, swinging
flail-like blows into empty air, and upon him, in
leopard-like crouch, -pressing him to the earth,
the man whom he had so wantonly attacked. And
his throat was compressed in those brown, lean,
muscular fingers, as in a claw of steel. It was horri-
ble. His eyes were starting from his head; his face
grew blue, then black; his swollen tongue protruded
hideously. His struggles were terrific, yet, powerful
of frame as he was, he seemed like a child in the grasp
of a panther.
A shout of dismay, of warning, broke from the
spectators, some of whom sprang forward to separate
the pair. But there was something so awful in the
expression of Hazon's countenance, in the glare of
the coal-black eyes, in the drawn-in brows and livid
horror of fiendish wrath, that even they stopped short.
It was, as they said afterwards, as though they
had looked into the blasting countenance of 'a
devil.
" Leave go! " they cried. " For God's sake, leave
go! You're killing the man. He'll be dead in a
second longer."
Hazon relaxed his grasp, and stood upright.
Beyond a slight heaving of the chest attendant upon
his exertion, he seemed as cool and collected as
though nothing had happened.
71
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" I believe you're right," he said, turning away.
" Well, he isn't that yet."
The attention of the onlookers was concentrated
on the prostrate bully, to restore whom a doctor was
promptly sent for from the most likely bar, for it
was midday. But all were constrained to allow that
the fellow had only got what he deserved, which con-
census of opinion may or may not have been due to
the fact that he was, if anything, a trifle more unpopu-
lar than Hazon himself.
Now among those who had witnessed this scene
from first to last was Laurence Stanninghame. Not
among those who would have interfered oh, no for
did he not hold it a primary tenet never, on any pre-
text, to interfere in what did not concern him? nor did
this principle in those days involve any effort to
keep, all impulse to violate it being long since dead.
Moreover, if the last held good of the badly damaged
bully, society at large could not but be the gainer,
since it was clear that he was a fit representative of
a class which is utterly destitute of any redeeming
point which should go to justify its unspeakably
vicious, useless, and rather dangerous existence.
This incident, while enhancing the respect in which
Hazon was held, in no sense tended to lessen his un-
popularity, and indeed at that time nobody had a good
word to say for him. Either they said nothing, and
looked the more, or they said a word that was not
good oh, no, not good.
Now in spite of all such ill repute, possibly by
reason of it, his temperament being what it was,
Laurence felt drawn towards this mysterious person-
72
"PIRATE" HAZON.
age, for he was pre-eminently one given to forming
his own judgment instead of accepting it ready made
from Dick, Tom, and Harry. If Hazon was vin-
dictive, why, so was he; if unscrupulous, so could
he be if driven to it. He resolved to find an oppor-
tunity of cultivating the man, and if he could not
find one he would make it. Now he saw such an
opportunity.
" What do you think of this rumor that the revolu-
tion in Brazil is going to knock out our share
market? " he said, suddenly looking up from the paper
he was reading.
" It may do that," answered Hazon. " This year's
boom has been a mere sick attempt at one. Wouldn't
take much to knock out what little there is of it."
Laurence felt a cold qualm. There had been an
ominous drop the last day or two. Still Rainsford
and one or two others had recommended him to hold
on. This man spoke so quietly, yet withal so pro-
phetically. What if he, in his inscrutable way, were
more than ordinarily in the know?
" Queer place this," pursued Hazon, the other hav-
ing uttered a dubious affirmative. " Taking it all
round, it and its crowd, it's not far from the queerest
place I've ever seen in my life, and I've seen some
queer places and some queerish crowds."
" I expect you have. By the way, I suppose you've
done a good deal of up-country hunting? "
"A goodish deal. Are you fond of the gun? I
notice you go out pretty often, but there's nothing to
shoot around here."
" I just am fond of it," replied Laurence. " If
73
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
things turn out all right I shall cut in with some
fellow for an up-country trip if I can. Big game
this time."
The other smiled darkly, enigmatically.
" Yes. That's real real," he said. " Try some of
this," handing his tobacco bag, as Laurence began to
scratch out his empty pipe, " unless, that is, you
haven't got over the new-comer's prejudice against
the best tobacco in the world, the name whereof is
Transvaal."
" Thanks. No, I have no prejudice against it. On
the contrary, as to its merits I am disposed to agree
with you."
Throughout this conversation Laurence, who had
a keen ear for that sort of thing, could not help
noticing the other's voice. It was a pleasing voice,
a cultured voice, and refined withal, nor could his
fastidious ear detect the faintest trace of provincial-
ism or vulgarity about it. The intonation was
perfect. There is nothing so quick to betray to the
sensitive ear any strain of plebeian descent as the
voice, and of this no one was more thoroughly aware
than Laurence Stanninghame. This man, he decided,
was of good birth.
The ice broken, they talked on, in the apparently
careless, but in reality guarded way which had become
second nature to both of them. More than one
strange and very shady anecdote was Hazon able
to narrate concerning the place and its inhabitants,
and especially concerning certain among the latter
who ranked high for morality, commercially or
otherwise. There were actions done in their midst
74
"PIRATE" HAZON.
every day, he declared, which, for barefaced and un-
scrupulous rascality, would put to the blush other
actions for which the law would hang a man without
mercy, all other men applauding, but with this
difference, that whereas the former demanded a
creeping and crawling cowardliness to insure success,
the latter involved iron nerve and the well-nigh daily
shaking hands with death death, too, in many an
appalling and ghastly form. All of which was " dark "
talking as far as Laurence was concerned, though
the day was to come when its meaning should stand
forth as clear as a printed page.
Even now, however, he was not absolutely mysti-
fied far from it, indeed; for he himself was a hard
thinker, owning an ever-vivid and busy brain. He
could put half a dozen meanings to any one or other
of his companion's utterances, and among them prob-
ably the right one. And, as they talked on, he
became alive to something almost magnetic a sort
of subtile, compelling force about Hazon. Was it his
voice or manner or general aspect, or a combination
of all three? He could not tell. He could only
realize that it existed.
For some days after this conversation the two men
did not come together, though they would nod the
time of day to each other as before, and Laurence,
who had other considerations upon his hands mone-
tary and agreeable did not give the matter a thought.
At last he noticed that Hazon's place at the table was
vacant remembering, too, that it had been so for a
day or two. Had he left?
To his inquiries on that head he obtained scant
75
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
and uncordial response. Hazon was ill, some be-
lieved, while others charitably opined that he was
" on the booze." Whatever it was no one cared, and
strongly recommended Laurence to do likewise.
The latter, we have shown, was peculiarly unsus-
ceptible to public opinion, which, if it influenced him
at all, did so in the very opposite direction to that
which was intended. Accordingly, he now made up
his mind to ascertain the truth for himself to which
end he found himself speedily knocking at the door
of Hazon's room, the while marvelling at his own
unwonted perturbation lest his overture should be
regarded as an intrusion.
" Heard you were ill," he said shortly, having
entered in obedience to the responsive "Come in."
" Rough luck being ill in a place like this, or
indeed in any place, for that matter. Thought I'd
see if there's anything I could do for you. "
" Very good of you, Stanninghame. Sit down
there on that box it's lower than the chair, and
therefore more comfortable. Yes, I feel a bit knocked
out. A touch of the old up-country shivers, or some-
thing of the kind. It's a thing you never entirely
pull round from, once you've had it. I'll be all right,
though, in a day or two."
The speaker was lying on his bed, clad in his
trousers and shirt. The latter, open from the throat,
revealed part of a great livid scar, running diagonally
across the swarthy chest, and representing what must
have been a terrific slash. Two other scars also
showed on the muscular forearm, half-way between
elbow and wrist. What was it to Laurence whether
76
" PIRATE" HAZON.
this person or that person lived or died? Why,
nothing. Yet there was something so pathetic, so
helpless in the aspect of the man, lying there day
after day, patient, solitary, uncomplaining shunned
and avoided by those around that appealed power-
fully to his feelings. Heavens! was he turning soft-
hearted at his time of life, that he should feel so
unaccountably stirred by the bare act of coming to
visit this ailing and unbefriended stranger?
In truth, there was nothing awe-inspiring about
the latter now. His piercing black eyes seemed
large and soft; the expression of his dark face was
one of weariful helplessness, yet of schooled patience.
A queer thought flashed through Laurence's brain.
Was it in Hazon's power to produce whatever effect
he chose Upon the minds of others? Had he chosen,
for some inscrutable purpose, to render himself
shunned and feared? Was he now, on like principle,
adopting the surest means to win over to him this one
man who had sought him out on his lonely sick-bed?
and if so, to what end? It was more than a passing
thought, nor from that moment onward could Lau-
rence ever get it entirely out of his mind.
" Fill your pipe, Stanninghame," said Hazon, break-
ing into this train of thought, which, all unconsciously,
had entailed a long gap of silence. " I don't in the
least mind smoke, although I can't blow off a cloud
myself just now at least I have no inclination that
way," he added, reaching for a bottle of white powder
which stood upon a box by the bedside, and mixing
himself a modicum of quinine.
" Had a doctor of any sort, Hazon? "
77
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" What good would that do except to the doctor?
I know what's the matter with me, and I know exactly
what to do for it. I don't want to pay another fellow
a couple of guineas or so to tell me. Not but what
doctors have their uses in wounds and surgery, for
instance. But I'm curiously like an animal. When
I get anything the matter with me which I don't
often I like to creep away and lie low. I like to
take it alone."
" Well, I'm built rather that way myself, Hazon.
I won't apologize for intruding, because you know as
well as I do that no such consideration enters into the
matter. Still, I want you to know that if there's any-
thing I can do for you, you have only to say so."
" Thanks. You are not quite like other people,
Stanninghame. Life is no great thing, s it, that
everybody should stir up such a mighty fuss about
clearing out of it? "
" No, it's no great thing," assented Laurence
darkly. " Yet it might be made so."
"How that?"
" With wealth. With wealth you can do anything
command anything buy anything. They say that
wealth won't purchase life, but very often it will."
" You're about three parts right. It will, for in-
stance, enable a man to lead the life he needs in order
to preserve his physical and mental vigour at its
highest. Even from the moralist's point of view it is
all round desirable, for nothing is so morally deterio-
rating as a life of narrow and cramped pinching, when
all one's best years are spent in hungering and long-
ing for what one will never again attain."
78
"PIRATE" HAZON.
" You speak like a book, Hazon," said Laurence,
not wondering that the other should have sized up his
own case so exhaustively not wondering, because he
was an observer of human nature and a character-
reader himself. Then, bitterly, " Yet that pumpkin-
pated entity, the ponderous moralist, would contend
that the lack of all that made life worth living was good
as a stimulus to urge to exertion, and all the hollow
old clap-trap."
" Quite so. But how many attain to the reward
the end of the said exertion? Not one in a hundred.
And then, in nine cases out of ten, how does that one
do it? By fraud, and thieving, and over-reaching,
and sycophancy in short, by running through the
whole gamut of the scale of rascality rascality of
the meaner kind, mark you. Then when this winner
in the battle of life comes out top, the world
crowns him with fat and fulsome eulogy, and falls
down and worships his cheque-book, crying, ' Behold
a self-made man ; go thou and do likewise ! ' ''
" You've not merely hit the right nail on the head,
Hazon, but you've driven it right home," said Lau-
rence decisively, recognizing that here was a man
after his own heart.
Two or three days went by before Hazon felt able
or inclined to leave his bed, and a good part of each
was spent by Laurence sitting in the sick man's room
and talking. And it may have been that the lonely
man felt cheered by the companionship and the
friendliness that proffered it, what time all others
held aloof; or that the two were akin in ideas, or both;
79
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
but henceforward a sort of intimacy struck up
between them, and it was noticed that Hazon no
longer went about invariably alone. Then people
began to look somewhat queerly at Laurence.
" You and * the Pirate ' have become quite thick
together, Stanninghame," said Rainsford one day,
meeting him alone.
" Well, why not? " answered Laurence, rather
shortly, resenting the inquisitional nature of the
question. Then point blank, " See here, Rainsford.
Why are you all so down on the man? What has he
done, anyway? "
" You needn't get your shirt out, old chap," was the
answer, quite good-humouredly. " Look here, now
we are alone together so just between ourselves.
Do you notice how all of these up-country going fel-
lows shunt him Wheeler, for instance? and Garway,
who is at your hotel, never speaks to him. And
Garway, you'll admit, is as good a fellow as ever
lived."
" Yes, I'll own up to that. What then? "
" Only this, that they know a good deal that we
don't."
"Well, what do they know or say they know?"
" Look here, Stanninghame," said Rainsford, rather
mysteriously, " has Hazon ever told you any of his
up-country experiences? "
" A few yes."
" Did he ever suggest you should take a trip with
him?"
" We have even discussed that possibility."
"Ah ! " Then Rainsford gave a long whistle,
80
-PIRATE" HAZON.
and his voice became impressive as he resumed:
" Watch it, Stanninghame. From time to time other
men have gone up country with Hazon, but not one
of them has ever returned."
" Oh, that's what you're all down on him about,
is it? "
The other nodded; then, with a "so-long," he cut
across the street and disappeared into an office where
he had business.
81
CHAPTER VII.
No more foolish passion was ever implanted in
the human breast than that of jealousy unless it were
that of which it is the direct outcome nor is there
any which the average human is less potent to resist.
The victim of either, or both, is for the time being
outside reason.
Now the first-mentioned form of disease is, to the
philosophical mind, of all others the most essentially
foolish indeed, we can hardly call to mind any other
so thoroughly calculated to turn the average well-
constructed man or woman into an exuberantly
incurable idiot. For what does it amount to when
we come to pan it out? If there exist grounds for
the misgiving, why then it is going begging
grovelling for something which the other party has
not got to give; if groundless, is it not a fulfilling of
the homely old saw relating to cutting off one's nose
to spite one's face? (We disclaim any intent to pun.)
In either case it is such a full and whole-souled giv-
ing of himself, or herself, away on the part of the
patient; while on that of its object is he, or she,
worth it?
Now, from a very acute form of this insanity
George Falkner was a chronic sufferer. He had
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
cherished a secret weakness for Lilith, almost when
she was yet in short frocks, but since her return from
England, from the moment he had once more set
eyes upon her on the deck of the Persian, he had
tumbled madly, uncontrollably, headlong in love.
Did a member of the opposite sex so much as ex-
change commonplaces with her, George Falkner's
personality would contrive to loom, grim and dark,
and almost threatening, in the background ; while
such male animal who should enjoy the pleasure of
say an hour of Lilith's society a deux, even with no
more flirtatious or ultimate intent than the same
period spent in the society of his grandmother, would
inspire in George a fell murderousness, which was
nothing short of a reversion to first principles. As
for Lilith herself, she was fond of him, very, in a
sisterly, cousinly way and what way, indeed, could
be more fatal to that by which he desired to travel?
Nor did it mend matters any that their mutual
relatives were the reverse of favourable to his aspira-
tions, on the ground of the near relationship existing
between the parties. So, poor George, seeing no
light, became morose and quarrelsome, and wholly
and violently unreasonable in short, a bore. All
of which was a pity, because, this weakness apart, he
was, on the whole, rather a good fellow.
He had come to the Rand, like everybody else, to
wait for the boom which boom, like the chariots of
Israel, though totally unlike the children of the same,
tarried long in coming; indeed, by that time there
were not wanting those who feared that it might not
come at all. He had pleaded with his aunt to invite
83
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Lilith at the same time, artfully putting it that the
opportunity of his escort was too good to be missed;
and Mrs. Falkner, with whom he was a prime favour-
ite, although she did not approve his aspirations,
weakly agreed. And so here they were beneath the
same roof, with the addition of his second sister, the
blue-eyed Mabel, whose acquaintance we have already
made.
The latter, in her soft, fair-haired, pink and roses
style, was a very pretty girl. She, for her part, could
count " coup " to a creditable extent, and among the
latest scalps which she had hung to her dainty
twenty-inch girdle was that of our friend Holmes.
This idiot, we were going to say, looked back
upon that deadly, monotonous, starved, dusty, flea-
bitten coach-ride of three days and two nights as a
species of Elysium, and in the result was perennially
importuning Laurence to take a stroll down to
Booyseus, " Just for a constitutional, you know."
And the latter would laugh, and good-naturedly ac-
quiesce. It was a cheap way of setting up a character
for amiability, he would say to himself satirically; for
as yet Holmes hardly suspected he was almost as
powerfully drawn thither as Holmes was himself
more powerfully, perhaps only, with the advantage
of years and experience and cooler brain, he had him-
self more in hand.
" Instead of making a prize gooseberry of me,
Holmes, as a very appropriate item against the ' silly '
season," he said one day, " you had much better go
over by yourself. You are getting into Falkner's
black books. He hates me like poison, you know."
84
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
" But that's just why I want you along, Stanning-
hame. While he's trying to stand you off in the
other quarter, I'm in it, don't you see? " replied the
other, with whole-hearted ingenuousness.
Holmes had stated no more than the truth. Of
all the " rivals," real or imaginary, whom the jealous
George hated and feared, qua rival, none could touch
Laurence Stanninghame. For by this time it had
become patent to his watchful eyes that among the
swarms of visitors of the male, and therefore, to him,
obnoxious sex, at whose coming Lilith's glance would
brighten, and with whom she would converse with a
kind of affectionate confidentiality when others were
present, and apparently even more so when others
were not, that objectionable personage was the said
Laurence Stanninghame.
This being the case, it followed that George
Falkner, looking out on the stoep one fine afternoon,
and descrying the approach of his bugbear, stifled a
bad cuss-word or two, and then exploded aloud in
more approved and passworthy fashion.
" There's that bounder coming here again."
" ' Bounder ' being Dutch for somebody you detest
eh, George?" said Lilith sweetly.
" Confound it ! That everlasting trying to be
sharp is one of the most deadly things a man has
to put up with. It's catching eh, Lilith? " was the
sneering retort.
" But who is it? " said Mrs. Falkner, who was short-
sighted, or affected to be.
" Oh, the great god, Stanninghame, of course, and
his pup, Holmes."
85
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Now the ill-conditioned George had stirred up a
hornet's nest, for his sister took up the parable.
" Well, there are lessons to be learned even from
' pups/ " said Mabel scathingly. " They are not
always growling, at any rate."
" Oh, you're on the would-be smart lay, too?
Didn't I say it was catching? " he jeered.
" Yes, and you say a great many things that are
supremely foolish," retorted Mabel, turning up her
tip-tilted nose a little more, in fine scorn.
" Well, I'm off to the camp," said George, with a
sort of snarl, reaching for a hat. " Clearly, I'm not
wanted here."
" You're not, if you're going to do nothing but
make yourself fiendishly disagreeable," rejoined his
sister, pertly pitiless. In reality she was very fond
of him, and he of her, but he had trampled on a
tender place; for she liked Holmes.
George banged on his hat, strode angrily to the
door, and got no farther. He did not see why he
should leave the field clear to all comers, even if he
were out of the running himself; a line of irreso-
luteness which affords an excellent exemplifica-
tion of the remarks wherewith we have opened this
chapter.
By all but George, who was excusably undemon-
strative, the two new arrivals were greeted with
customary cordiality.
" Why, Mr. Stanninghame, it seems quite a long
time since we saw you last," said Mrs. Falkner, as
they were all seated out on the stoep. " What have
you been doing with yourself? "
86
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
" The usual thing studying the share market, and
talking about it."
" And is the outlook still as bad as it was? "
" Worse. However, we must hope it '11 go better."
" I hear that you and that queer man, Mr. Hazon,
have become such friends, Mr. Stanninghame."
This was the sort of remark with which Laurence
had scant patience, the more so that it met him at
every turn. What concern was it of the Rand
collectively who he chose to be friendly with, that
every third person he met should rap out such kind
of comment?
" Oh, we get along all right, Mrs. Falkner," he
answered. " But then I have a special faculty for
hitting it off with unpopular persons possibly a kind
of fellow-feeling. Besides, accepting ready-made
judgments concerning other people does not com-
mend itself to my mind on any score of logic or
sound sense. It is just a trifle less insane than taking
up other people's quarrels, but only just."
" I dare say you're right; only it is difficult for most
of us to be so consistently, so faultlessly logical. No
doubt most of the things they say about him are not
true."
" But what are most of the things they say, Mrs.
Falkner? Now I, for my part, never can get any-
body to say anything. They will hint unutterables
and look unutterables, but when it comes to saying
no, thank you, they are not taking any."
" But he is such a very mysterious personage. Not
a soul here knows anything about him about his
affairs, I mean and who he is."
87
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Perhaps that enhances his attractiveness in my
eyes, Mrs. Falkner. There is prestige in the un-
known.'*
" Not of a good kind, as a rule," she replied, and
then stopped short, for a dry malicious cough on the
part of George brought home to her the consciousness
that she was putting her foot in it pretty effectively.
For the same held good of the man to whom she was
talking; about Laurence Stanninghame and his affairs
not a soul there knew anything.
Not a soul? Yes, one, peradventure. For between
himself and Lilith the interchange of ideas had been
plenteous and frequent, and the subtile, sympathetic
vein existing between them had deepened and grown
apace. About himself and his affairs he had told her
nothing, yet it is probable that he could tell her but
little on this head that would be news in any sense of
the word. Lilith's aunt, however, who was a good-
hearted soul, without a grain of malice in her composi-
tion, felt supremely uncomfortable and quite savage
with George, who was now grinning, sourly and sig-
nificantly.
None of this by-play was lost upon Laurence, but
he showed no consciousness. He knew that George
Falkner detested him detested him cordially, yet he
in no wise reciprocated this dislike. He did not
blame George. Probably he would have felt the
same way himself, had he been in George's place and
at George's age; for the latter had the advantage of
him on the side of youth by at least ten years. He
was inclined to like him, and at any rate was sorry for
him, perhaps with a dash of pity that came near con-
88
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
tempt. Poor George did give himself away so, and
it was so foolish so supremely foolish. Yet not for
a moment did it occur to Laurence to efface himself
in this connection. Duty? Hang duty! He had
made a most ruinous muddle of his whole life through
reverencing that fetich word. Honour? There was
no breach of honour where there was no deception,
no pretence. Consideration for others? Who on
earth ever dreamt of considering him when to do so
would cost them anything, that is? Unselfishness?
Everybody was selfish everything even. What had
he ever gained by striving to improve upon the uni-
versal law? Nothing nothing good; everything
bad bad and deteriorating morally and physically.
And now, should he put the goblet from his lips?
Not he. This strong, new wine of life had rejuven-
ated him. Its rich, sweet fumes, so far from clouding
his brain, had cleared it. It had enwrapped his heart
in a glow as of re-enkindled fire, and caused the
stagnated blood to course once more through his
veins, warm and strong and free. His very step
had gained an elasticity, a firmness, to which it had
long been strange. And yet with all this, his judg-
ment had remained undimmed, keen, clear, subject to
no illusions. The logic of the situation was rather
pitiless, perchance cruel. He was under no sort of
illusion on that score. Well, let it be. Here again
came in the universal law of life, the battle of the
strong. There was no weakness left in him.
" For my part, I like Hazon," cut in Holmes de-
cisively; " he only wants knowing. And because he
8 9
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
doesn't let himself go for the benefit of every bounder
on the Rand, they talk about him as if he'd committed
no end of murders. It's my belief that half the fel-
lows who abuse him are ten thousand times worse than
him," he added, with the robust partisanship of hearty
youth.
Further discussion of Hazon and his derelictions,
real or imaginary, was cut short by the arrival of
more visitors, mostly of the sterner sex; for Mrs.
Falkner liked her acquaintance to drop in informally
a predilection her acquaintance, if young and
especially of the harder sex aforesaid, for obvious
reasons, delighted just at present to humour. George,
however, in no wise shared his aunt's expansiveness
in this direction, if only that it meant that Lilith was
promptly surrounded by an adoring phalanx, even as
on the deck of the Persian.
Now it was voted cool enough for lawn tennis for
which distraction, indeed, some of the droppers-in
were suitably attired and there was keen competition
for Lilith as a partner; and Holmes, being first in the
field, resolutely bore off Mabel Falkner as his aux-
iliary. And George, realizing that he was " out of it "
for some time to come, perhaps, too, taking a vague
comfort in the thought that there is safety in numbers,
actually did proceed to carry out his threat, and
betook himself townwards.
Laurence remained seated on the stoep, talking to
Mrs. Falkner and one of the visitors; but all the
while, though never absent-minded or answering at
random, his eyes were following, with a soothing and
restful sense of enjoyment, every movement of Lilith's
9
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
form a very embodiment of grace and supple ease, he
pronounced it. The movement of the game suited her
as it suited but few. She never seemed to grow hot, or
flurried, or dishevelled, as so many of the fair are wont
to do while engaged in that popular pastime. Every
movement was one of unstudied, unconscious grace.
In point of hard fact, she played indifferently ; but she
did so in a manner that was infinitely good to look at.
" Don't you play at this, Mr. Stanninghame? " said
the other visitor, " or have you got a soul above such
frivolities?"
" That doesn't exactly express it," he answered.
" The truth is, I don't derive sufficient enjoyment from
skipping about on one or both legs at the end of a
racket, making frantic attempts to stop a ball which
the other side is making equally frantic and fruitless
efforts to drive at me through a net. As a dispassion-
ate observer, the essence of the game seems to me to
consist in sending the ball against the net as hard
and as frequently as practicable."
At this the visitor spluttered, and, being of the
softer sex, declared that he must be a most dreadful
cynic; and Lilith, who was near enough to hear his
remarks, turned her head, with a rippling flash of
mirth in her eyes, and said "Thank you!" which
diversion indeed caused her to perform the very feat
he had been so whimsically describing.
Presently, growing tired of talking, he withdrew
from the others. It happened that there was a book
in the drawing room which had caught his attention
during a former visit; and now he sought it, and
taking it up from the table, stood there alone in the
91
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER. '
cool shaded room turning from page to page, absorbed
in comparing passages of its contents. Then a light
step, a rustle of skirts, a lilt of song which broke off
short as he raised his eyes. Lilith was passing
through, her tennis racket still in her hand. Slightly
flushed with her recent exercise, she looked radiantly
sweet, in her dark, brilliant beauty.
" Oh, I didn't know anyone was here; least of all,
you," she said. " You startled me."
"Sorceress, remove those unholy spells; for thou
art indeed good to look upon this day."
She flashed a smile at him, throwing back her head
with that slight, quick movement which constituted
in her a very subtile and potent charm.
" Flatterer! Do you think so? Well, I am glad."
She dropped her hand down upon his, as it rested on
the table, with a swift, light, caressing pressure, and
her eyes softened entrancingly as they looked up into
his. Then she was gone.
He stood there, cool, immovable, self-possessed,
outwardly still to all appearance intent upon the book
which he held. But in reality he saw it not. His
whole mental faculties were called into play to en-
deavour imagination to retain that soft, light pressure
upon his hand. His resources of memory were con-
centrated upon the picture of her as she stood there
a moment since, lovely, smiling, enchanting, and
then the sombre brain-wave, reminding of the hope-
lessness, the mockery of life's inexorable circumstance,
would roll in upon his mind; and heart would seem
tightened, crushed, strangled with a pain that was
actually physical of such acuteness indeed, that, had
92
"THE WHOLE SOUL PRISONER."
that organ been weak, he would be in danger of fall-
ing dead on the spot. And this was a part of the
penalty he had to pay for his well-nigh superhuman
self-control.
He loved her this man who loved nothing and
nobody living, not even himself. He loved her
ihis man whose life was all behind him, and whose
heart was of stone, and whose speech was acrid as
the most corrosive element known to chemistry.
But a few " passes " of sweet Sorceress Lilith's magi-
cal wand and the stone heart had split to fragments,
pouring forth, giving release to, a warm well-spring.
A well-spring? A very torrent, deep, fierce, strong,
but not irresistible as yet. Still there were mo-
ments when to keep it penned within its limits was
agony agony untold, superhuman, well-nigh unen-
durable.
He loved her he who was bound by legal ties
until death. With all the strong concentrative might
of his otherwise hard nature, he loved her. The
dead dismal failure of the past, the sombre vistas of
the future, were as nothing compared with such
moments as this. Yet none suspected, so marvel-
lously did he hold himself in hand. Even the most
jealous of those who saw them frequently together
George Falkner, for instance, and others were blind
and unsuspecting. But what of Lilith herself?
93
CHAPTER VIII.
DARK DAYS.
THE share market at Johannesburg was rapidly
going to the deuce.
Some there were who ardently wished that Johan-
nesburg itself had gone thither, before they had heard
of its unlucky and delusive existence, and among this
daily increasing number might now be reckoned
Laurence Stanninghame. He, infected with the
gambler's fever of speculation, had not thought it
worth while to " hedge " ; it was to be all or nothing.
And now, as things turned out, it was nothing. The
old story a fictitious market, bolstered up by ficti-
tious and inflated prices; a sudden "slump," and
then everybody with one mind eager to dispose of
scrip, barely worth the paper of which it consisted
in fact, unsaleable. King Scrip had landed his de-
voted subjects in a pretty hole.
" You're not the only one, Stanninghame no, not
by a long, long chalk," said Rainsford ruefully, as
they were talking matters over one day. " I'm hard
hit myself, and I could point you out men here who
were worth tens of thousands a month ago, and
couldn't muster a hard hundred cash at this moment
if their lives depended on it worse, too, men whose
overdraft is nearly as big as their capital was the same
time back."
94
DARK DAYS.
" I suppose so. Yet most fellows of that kind are
adepts at the fine old business quality of besting their
neighbours, one in which I am totally lacking, pos-
sibly owing to want of practice. They can go smash
and come up smiling, and in a little while be worth
more than ever. They know how to do it, you see,
and I don't. Smash for me means smash, and that of
a signally grievous kind."
Rainsford looked at him curiously.
" Oh, bother it, Stanninghame, you're no worse off
than the rest of us. We've got to lie low and hang
on for a bit, and watch our chances."
" Possibly you are right, Rainsford. No doubt you
are. Still every donkey knows where his own saddle
galls him."
" Rather, old chap," replied the other, whose hat
covered the total of his liability. " The only thing
to do is to hold on tight, have a drink, and trust in
Providence. We'll go and have the drink."
They adjourned to a convenient bar. It was about
noon, and the place was fairly full. Here they found
Holmes in the middle of a crowd, also Rankin and
Wheeler. The consumption of " John Walker " was
proceeding at a brisk rate.
" Hallo, Stanninghame, how are you? " cried Ran-
kin ; " haven't seen you for a long time. I think
another * smile ' wouldn't hurt us, eh? What do you
say? I'm doing bitters. Nothing like Angostura
with a little drop of gin in it; gives tone to the sys-
tem. What's yours?"
Laurence named his, and the genial Rankin having
shouted for it and other " rounds," proceeded to un-
95
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
fold some wondrous scheme by which he was infallibly
bound to retrieve all their fortunes at least cent, per
cent. It was only a matter of a little capital. Any-
one who had the foresight to intrust him with a few
hundreds might consider his fortune made. But,
somehow, nobody could be found to hand over those
few hundreds. In point of fact, nobody had got them.
" Here, Rainsford," sung out somebody, " we are
tossing for another ' all round.' Won't your friend
cut in?"
Laurence did cut in, and then Holmes, who, being
of genial disposition, and very hard hit too in the
scrip line, began uproariously to suggest a further
" drown care."
" Excuse me, eh, Holmes? " said Laurence. " It's
getting too thick, and I don't think this is a sort of
care that '11 bear drowning. I'm off. So-long, every-
body."
" Hold on, Stanninghame," sung out Rankin, who
was the most hospitable soul alive. " Come round to
the house and dine with us. I'm just going along.
We'd better do another bitters though, first. What
do you say? "
But Laurence declined both hospitalities. A very
dark mood was upon him one which rendered the
idea of the society of his fellows distasteful to the last
degree. So he left the carousing crowd, and betook
himself to his quarters.
Now the method of drowning care as thus prac-
tised commended itself to him on no principle of
practical efficacy. He had care enough to drown,
Heaven knew, but against any temptation to fly to
96
DARK DAYS.
the bottle in order to swamp it he was proof. His
very cynicism, selfish, egotistical as it might be in its
hard and sweeping ruthlessness, was a safeguard to
him in this connection. That he, Laurence Stanning-
hame, to whom the vast bulk of mankind represented
a commingling of rogue and fool in about equal pro-
portion, should ever come to render himself unsteady
on his feet, and hardly responsible for the words which
came from his brain, presented a picture so unutter-
ably degraded and loathsome, that his mind recoiled
from the barest contemplation of it.
Yes, he had care enough, in all conscience, that
day as he walked back to his quarters; for unless the
market took a turn for the better, so sudden as to be
almost miraculous, the time when he would any
longer have a roof over his head might be counted
by weeks. And now every mail brought him grum-
bling, querulous letters asking for money when there
was none to send bitter and contentious letters, full
of complaint and the raking up of old sores and soul-
wearying lamentation; gibing reproaches, too, to him
who had beggared himself that these might live. It
would have been burden enough had it mattered
greatly to him whether anyone in the world lived or
not; but here the burden was tenfold by reason of its
utter lack of appreciation, of common gratitude, of
consideration for the shoulders which, sorely weighed
down and chafed, yet still supported it.
But if the refuge which is the resort of the weak
held out no temptation to him, there was another
refuge of which the exact opposite held ^oocl. In
weird and gloomy form all the recollections and fail-
97
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
tires of his past life would rise up and confront him.
What an unutterable hash he had made of it and its
opportunities! It did not do to run straight the
world was not good enough for it; so he had found.
That for the past; for the future what? Nothing.
For some there was no future, and he was one of
these. He saw no light.
Lying on his bed, in the heat of the early afternoon,
he realized all this for the hundredth time. The
temptation to end it all was strong upon him.
Stronger and stronger it grew, as though shadowy
demon-shapes were hovering in the shaded, half-
darkened room. It grew until it was well-nigh over-
mastering. His eyes began to wander meaningly
towards a locked drawer, and he half rose.
Against this temptation his hardened cynicism was
no safeguard at all; rather did it tend to foster it, and
that by reason of a corrosive disgust with life and the
conditions thereof which it engendered within him.
Then, in his half-dreamy state, a sweet and softening
influence seemed to steal in upon his soul. He
thought he would like to see Lilith Ormskirk once
more. Was it foolishness, weakness? Not a bit.
Rather was it hard, matter-of-fact, logical philosophy.
He had made an unparalleled hash of life. If he were
going to leave it now it was sound logic to do so with,
as it were, a sweet taste upon his mental palate.
Was it an omen for good, an earnest of a turn in
the wheel of ill-luck? On reaching Booyseus he was
so fortunate as to find Lilith not only at home but
alone. Her face lighted up at the sight of him.
98
DARK DAYS.
" How sweet of you to toil out here this hot after-
noon," she said, as he took within his the two hands
she had instinctively held out to him. For a moment
he looked at her without replying, contrasting the
grim motive which had brought him hither with this
perfect embodiment of youth, and health, and beauty,
with all of life, all of the future yet before her all of
life with its possibilities. She was in radiant spirits,
and the hazel eyes shone entrancingly, and the slight
flush under the dark warmth of the satin skin, caused
by the unaffected pleasure inspired by his arrival,
rendered even his strong head a trifle unsteady, as
though with a rich, sweet, overpowering intoxication.
" Well, the reward is great," he answered, still re-
taining her hands in a lingering pressure. " Are you
all alone, child? "
" Yes," she said, that pleased flush mantling again,
the diminutive sounding strangely sweet to her ears
as coming from him.
" But you we may not be much longer. People
might drop in at any moment, and I want to be alone
with you this afternoon. I am spoiling for one of
our long talks, so put on a hat and come for a stroll
across the veldt. Or is it too hot? "
" You know it is not," she answered. " Now, I
won't be a minute."
She was as good as her word, for she reappeared
almost immediately with a hat and sunshade, and
they set forth, striking out over the bare open veldt
which extended around and behind the Booyseus
estate. The heat was great, greater than most women
would have cared to face, but the blue cloudlessness
99
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
of the sky, the sheeny glow of the sun upon the free
open country was so much delight to Lilith Orms-
kirk. In her love for all that was bright and glowing
she was a true daughter of the South.
"Oh, Laurence, how good it is to live!" she ex-
claimed, as they stepped out at a brisk pace in the
glorious openness of the warm air. " Do you know,
I feel at times so bright, and well, and happy in the
very joy and thankfulness of being alive, that it
almost brings tears. Do you understand the feeling?
Tell me."
" I think so."
" But did you ever feel that way yourself? "
" Perhaps in fact, I must have, because I under-
stand so thoroughly what you mean; but it must have
been a very, very long time ago."
His tone was that of one gravely amused, indul-
gently caressing. Heavens! he was thinking. The
contrast here was quite delicious; in fact, it was
unique. If only Lilith could have seen into his
thoughts at that moment, if only she had had the
faintest inkling as to their nature an hour or so back.
Still something in his look or in his tone sobered
her.
" Ah, Laurence, forgive me," she cried. " How
unfeeling I am, throwing my light-heartedness at you
in this way, when things are going so badly with
you/'
" Unfeeling? Why, child, I love to see you rejoic-
ing in the bright happiness of your youth and glowing
spirits. I would not have you otherwise for all the
world."
100
DARK DAYS.
" No, I ought not to feel that way just now, when
you when so many all round us are passing through
such a dreadfully anxious and critical time. Tell me,
Laurence, are things brightening for you even a
little?" - , . , ,
"Not even a little; the case is all tft e* ; dti?et- Way.
But don't you think about it, child. B<e happy -white
you can and as long as you can. It 'is 'the' ivo'rst
possible philosophy to afflict yourself over the woes
of other people."
Now the tears did indeed well to Lilith's eyes, but
assuredly this time they were not tears of joy and
thankfulness. One or two even fell.
" Don't sneer, Laurence. You must keep the satire
and cynicism for all the world, if you will, but keep
the inner side of your nature for me," said she, and in
the sweet, pleading ring in her voice there was no
lack of feeling now. " You have had about ten times
more than your share of all the dark and bitter side
of life. You will not refuse my sympathy my deep-
est, most heartfelt sympathy will you, dear? Ah,
would that it were only of any use at all ! "
" Your sympathy? Why, I value and prize it more
than anything else in the world in fact it is the only
thing in the world I do value. ' Of any use at all?'
It is of some use of incalculable use, perhaps."
A smile lit up the clouded sadness of her face.
" If I only thought that," she said. " Still it's more
than sweet to hear you say so. Tell me, Laurence,
what was the strange sympathetic magnetism that
existed between us from the very first yes, long be-
fore we talked together? I was conscious of it, if
101
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
you were not a sympathy that makes it easy for me
to follow you, when you talk so darkly that nobody
else could."
" Oh, there is such a sympathy, then?"
" ,Qf cpurse there is, and you know it."
^Perhaps: Tell me, Lilith, do you still cherish
certain fusty and antiquated superstitions which make
chat good results and beneficial can never come out
of abstract wrong? Abstract wrong being for present
purposes a mere conventionality."
She looked at him for a moment. The interchange
of that steady silent glance was sufficient.
" No, I do not," she said.
" I thought not. Well, that being so, you can per-
haps realize of what ' use/ as you put it, that sweetest
gift of your deepest, most heartfelt sympathy may be
to its object, and in its results wholly beneficial. Do
you follow? "
" Why, of course. And is it really in my power to
brighten life for you ever so little? Ah, that would
be happiness indeed."
" Continue to think so, then, for it is in your power
to do just that, and you are doing it at this moment.
And, child, when you feel that sense of boundless
elation with the joy of living, add this to the happi-
ness you are feeling, not to lessen but to enhance it."
" I will do that, Laurence," she said. " And if the
consciousness that you have what you say is of
use to you, let it be to strengthen you. Clear-headed,
strong as you are, dear, there must come hours of
terrible gloom, even to you. Well, when such come
on, think of our talk to-day and strive to throw them
102
DARK DAYS.
off because of it because of the strengthening influ-
ences of it."
Thus she spoke, bravely, but beneath her outwardly
sweet serenity a hard battle was being waged. She
was fighting with her innermost self; striving hard
to retain her self-control. She would not even raise
her eyes to his lest she should lose it, lest she should
betray herself. And all the while the chords of her
innermost being thrilled and quivered with an inde-
scribable tenderness, taking words within her mind:
" My Laurence, my love, my ideal, what would I not
do to brighten life for you you for whom life is all
too hard! I would draw down that life-weary head
till it rested on my breast; I would wind my arms
round your neck and whisper into your tired ear
words of comfort, and of soothing, and of lov^e. Ah,
how I would love you, care for you, shield your ear
from ever being hurt by a discordant word! And I
would draw your heart within mine to rest there, and
would feel life all too blissfully, ineffably sweet to
live."
His voice broke in upon her meditations, causing
her a very perceptible start, so rapt were they.
" What is the subject of your very deep thought,
my Lilith? Are you wreathing some strange and
hitherto unsuspected spell, sorceress?"
The tone, playful, half sad, nearly upset her self-
control then and there. Was it with design that,
after the first keen penetrating gaze, he half averted
his glance?
" I am afraid I am poor company," she said rather
lamely. " I must have been silent quite a long time.
103
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
I was thinking thinking out some knotty problem
which would draw down your superior lordship's
indulgent pity," with a flash of all her former bright
spirits.
"And its nature?"
" If you will promise not to sneer I'll tell you.
You will? Well, then, I was thinking whether I
would have that gold-yellow dress done up with
mauve sleeves or black, for Wednesday week."
Whether he believed her or not it was impossible
to determine from the demeanour wherewith this
statement was received. She was inclined to think
he did, which spoke volumes for his tactfulness; and
is it not of the very essence of that far too uncommon
virtue to impress your interlocutor with the convic-
tion that you believe exactly as he or she wants
you to? In point of fact, there was something heroic-
ally pathetic in the way in which each mind strove to
veil from the other its inner workings, while every
day showed more and more the impossibility of keep-
ing up the figment.
Yet, for all this, there were times when the posses-
sion, the certainty of Lilith's " sympathy " she had
called it, would fail to cheer, to strengthen. Darker
and darker grew the days, more hopeless the pros-
pect, and soon Laurence Stanninghame found himself
not merely face to face with poverty, but on the actual
verge of destitution. Grim, fell spectres haunted his
waking hours no less than his dreams. Did he return
from a few hours of hard exercise with a fine appetite,
that healthy possession served but to remind him how
soon he would be without the means of gratifying it.
104
DARK DAYS.
He pictured himself utterly destitute, and through
his sleeping visions would loom hideous spectres of
want and degradation. Day or night, waking or
sleeping, it was ever the same; the horror of the posi-
tion was ever before him and would not be laid. His
mind was a hell to him, his heart of lead, his hard,
clear brain deadly, self-pitiless in its purpose. Obvi-
ously, there was no further room in the world for
such as he.
105
CHAPTER IX.
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
'To sell my immortal soul, twenty times over, for a
few thousands of the damnation stuff; but as that
article isn't negotiable, why, better make an end of
the whole bother."
Thus Laurence to himself, though unconsciously
aloud. His room was an end one on the stoep, and
the door was open. The time was the middle of the
morning, and he sat thinking.
His thoughts were black and bitter as how indeed
should they be otherwise? He had come to this
place to make one final effort to retrieve his fortunes.
That effort had failed. He had put what little re-
mained to him into various companies awaiting the
boom and no boom had ensued. On the contrary,
things had never looked more dead than at this
moment, never since the Rand had been opened up.
The bulk of the scrip owned by him was now barely
saleable at any price; for the residue he might have
obtained a quarter of the price he had paid for it. He
was ruined.
He was not alone in this not by a very large
number. But what sort of consolation was that? He
had received letters too by the last mail. Money!
money! That was their burden. He tossed them
aside half read. What mattered anything? The
accursed luck which had followed him throughout
106
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
life had stuck to him most consistently would do
so until the end. The end? Ha, had not " the end "
come? What more was left? More squalor, more
deterioration gradually dragging him down, down.
Heaven knew what he might come to, what final
degradation might not be his. The end? Yes, better
let it be the end now, here while in the full posses-
sion of his faculties, in the full possession of the dig-
nity of his self-respect. The dead blank hopelessness
of life! Better end it, now, here.
He rose and went to the open door. All was
quiet. The occupants of the other rooms were away,
drowning their cares in liquor saloons, or feverishly
hanging around 'Change to grasp at any possible
straw. He was about to close the door. No, it had
better remain as it was. The thing would look more
accidental that way.
He returned into the room, and unlocking his
portmanteau, took out a six-shooter. It was loaded
in every chamber, for in those days such a companion
was not far from a necessity in the great restless gold-
town. He sat down at the table, and, placing the
weapon in front of him, passed his fingers up and
down the blue shiny metal in a strange, half-medita-
tive way. Then, grasping the butt, he placed the
muzzle against his forehead.
The hard metal imprinted a cold ring just between
the eyes. He did not flinch at the grisly contact.
His hand was as firm as a rock. He must depress
the muzzle just a trifle it would make more certain.
He began to press the trigger, ever so faintly, then
a little more firmly, strangely wondering how much
107
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
more imperceptible a degree of pressure would be
required to produce the roaring, shattering shock
which should whirl him into the dark night of Death.
Well, but afterwards? Who knew? If it were
as they taught, even then it could be no augmenta-
tion of the hopelessness of this life. Perhaps they
might make a devil of him, he thought, with grim
satisfaction, as a black wave of hatred towards
humanity at large surged through his brain. In that
eventuality his role of tormentor as well as tormented
would be a congenial one.
The dark night of death! What would it matter
about money then, and all the sordid and pitiful
wretchednesses entailed by the want of it? A leap
in the dark! It held all the excitement of an un-
known adventure to the man who sat there, pressing
the muzzle of the deadly weapon hard against his
forehead. The additional pressure of so much as a
hair's weight upon that trigger now!
Could it be that the man's guardian angel was with
him still, that a saving presence really hovered about
him in the prosaic noonday? A strange chord seemed
to thrill and vibrate within his brain, bringing before
his vision the face of Lilith Ormskirk. There it was,
as he had beheld it but a few days since; but now the
sweet eyes were troubled, as though clouded with
pain and bitter disappointment.
" You, whom I thought so strong, are weak after
all! You, to whom I loved to listen as the very ideal
of a well-balanced mind and judgment, are about to
do what will stamp your memory forever as that of
one who was insane! Have I been no more to you
108
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
than that I who thought to have brightened and
strengthened your life all that within me lay? It can-
not be! You shall not do it."
He could not. The voice thrilled to his hearing,
as plainly, as articulately as it had ever done when
she had stood before him. He laid down the weapon,
and passed his hand in a dazed sort of manner over
his brows. Laurence Stanninghame was saved.
He stared around, somewhat unsteadily, as though
more than half expecting to behold her there in the
room. What did it all mean? At any rate she had
saved him. Was it for good or for ill? Then the full
irony of the position struck upon his satirical soul.
His mind went back over his acquaintance with Lilith.
What if his disillusioning had been a little less com-
plete? What if he had fled the rich attractiveness of
her presence, had shunned her with heroic scrupu-
lousness, acting from some fiddle-faddle notion of
so-called " honour " ? Just this, he, Laurence Stan-
ninghame, would at that moment be lying a lifeless
thing, with brains scattered all over the room a
memory, a standing monument of commonplace
weakness. But she had saved him from this had
saved him as surely and completely as though she
had struck the weapon from his hand. Was it for
good or for ill?
He fell thinking again. Had he indeed played his
last card, or did one more solitary trump yet lurk up
his sleeve unknown to himself? No, it could not be;
and his thoughts grew dark again. Yet he was safe
now safe from himself. Lilith had done it her
influence, her love!
109
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
He thought long and thought hard, but still hope-
lessly. And again, unconsciously, he broke out -into
soliloquy.
" Yes, I'd sell my soul to the devil himself! "
" Maybe the old man would be dead off the deal.
Likely he reckons you a dead cert, already, Stanning-
hame."
Laurence did not start at the voice, which was that
of Hazon, whose shadow darkened the door. The
up-country man at that moment especially noticed
that he did not.
" Dare say you're right, Hazon," was the reply.
" That's it, come in," which the other had already
done. "Talking out loud, was I? It's a d bad
habit, and grows on one."
" It does. Say, though, what game were you up
to with that plaything? " glancing meaningly at the
six-shooter lying on the table.
" This? Oh, I thought likely it wanted cleaning."
"So?" and the corners of Hazon's saturnine
mouth drooped in ever so faint a grin as his keen eyes
fixed themselves for a moment full upon the other's
face. Laurence had forgotten the tell-tale imprint
left in the centre of his forehead by the muzzle.
" So? See here, Stanninghame, don't be at the
trouble to invent any more sick old lies, but put the
thing away. It might go off. Don't mind me; I've
been through* the same stage myself."
" Have you? How did it feel, eh? " said Laurence,
with a sort of weary imperturbability, filling his pipe
and pushing the pouch across the table to his friend.
" Bad. Ah, that's right! Instead of fooling about
no
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
cleaning ' guns at such times, fill your pipe. That's
the right lay, depend upon it."
Laurence made no reply, but lighting up, puffed
away in silence. His thoughts were wandering from
Hazon.
" Broke, eh? " queried the latter sententiously.
" Stony."
" So? Ah, I knew it 'd come; I knew it 'd come."
This remark, redolent as it was of that sort of cheap
prophecy which consists of being wise after the event,
Laurence did not deem worthy of answer.
" And I was waiting for it to come," pursued
Hazon. " Say, now, why not make a trip up country
with me?"
" That sounds likely, doesn't it? Didn't I just tell
you I was stony broke?"
" You did. The very reason why I made my pro-
posal."
" Don't see it. If I were to sell out every rag of
my scrip now, I couldn't raise enough to pay my shot
towards the outfit. And I couldn't even render
service in kind, for I've had no experience of waggons
and all that sort of thing. So where does it come in? "
" It does come in. You can render service in kind
darned much so. I don't want you to pay any shot
towards the outfit. See here, Stanninghame, if you
go up country with me now, you'll come back a fairly
rich man, or "
"Or what?"
" You'll never come back at all."
In spite of his normal imperturbability, Laurence
was conscious of a quickening of the pulses, The
in
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
suggestion of adventure of an adventure on a mag-
nificent scale, and with magnificent results if success-
ful, as conveyed in the other's reply, caused the blood
to surge hotly through his frame. He had been
strangely drawn towards this dark, reticent, solitary
individual, beneath whose quiet demeanour lurked
such a suggestion of force and power, who shunned
the friendship of all even as all shunned his, who had
been moderately intimate even with none but himself.
This wonderful land the dim, mysterious recesses of
its interior what possibilities did it not hold? And
in groping into such possibilities this, above all others,
was the comrade he would have chosen to have at his
side. Not that he had forgotten the words of dark
warning spoken by Rainsford and others, but at such
he laughed.
"Are you taking it on any? " queried Hazon, after
a pause of silence on the part of both.
" I am. I don't mind telling you, Hazon, that life,
so far as I am concerned, was no great thing before."
" I guessed as much," assented the other, with a
nod of the head.
" Quite. Now, I'm broke, stony broke, and it's
more than ever a case of stealing away to hang one's
self in a well. I tell you squarely, I'd walk into the
jaws of the devil I^mself to effect the capture of the
oof-bird."
" Yes? How are your nerves, Stanninghame? "
" Hard hard as nails now. That's not to say they
have been always."
" Quite so. Ever seen a man's head cut off? "
" Two."
112
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
" So? Where was that? " said Hazon, ever so
faintly surprised at receiving an affirmative reply.
" In Paris. A press friend of mine had to go and
see two fellows guillotined, and managed to work me
in with him. We were as close to the machine, too,
as it was possible to get."
" Did it make you feel sick at all? "
" Not any. The other Johnny took it pretty badly,
though. I had to fill him up with cocktails before he
could eat any breakfast."
" That's a very good test. I never expected you
to say you had stood it. Well, you may see a little
more in that line before we come through. Can't
make omelettes without breaking eggs though, as the
French say. Well now, Stanninghame, I've had my
eye on you ever since you came up here. I'm pretty
good at reading people, and I read you. ' That's the
man for me,' I said to myself. ' He's come to the end
of his tether. He's just at that stage of life when it's
kill or cure, and he means kill or cure.' ' :
" Well, we had talked enough together to let you
into that much, eh, Hazon?" said Laurence, with a
laugh which was not altogether free from a dash of
scepticism.
" We have. Still, I'm not gassing when I tell you
I knew all about it before. How? you want to ask.
Because I've been through it all myself. I thought,
1 That chap is throwing his last card ; if he loses, he's
my man.' And you have lost."
" But what's the object of the trip, Hazon? Gold? "
" No."
"Stones?"
113
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Not stones."
"Ivory, then?"
" That's it; ivory," and a gleam of saturnine mirth
shot across the other's dark features.
" You have to go a good way up for that now, don't
you, Hazon? "
" Yes, a good way up. And it's contraband."
"The devil it is!"
Hazon nodded. Then he went to the door and
looked out.
" Leave it open. It's better so. We can hear any
one coming," he said, returning. " And now, Stan-
ninghame, listen carefully, and we'll talk out the
scheme. If you're on, well and good; if you're dead
off it, why, I told you I had read you, and you're not
the man to let drop by word or hint to a living soul
any of what has passed between us."
" Quite right, Hazon. You never formed a safer
judgment in your life."
Then, for upwards of an hour, the pair talked
together; and when the luncheon bell rang, and
Laurence Stanninghame took his seat at the table
along with the rest, to talk scrip in the scathingly
despondent way in which the darling topic was con-
versationally dealt with in these days, he was con-
scious that he had turned the corner of a curious
psychological crisis in his life.
In the afternoon he took his way down to Booyseus.
Would he find Lilith in? It was almost too much
good luck to hope to find her alone. As he walked,
he was filled with a strange elation. The dull pain
114
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
of a very near parting was largely counteracted by
the manner of it. Such a parting had been before his
mind for long; but then he would have gone forth
broken down, ruined, more utterly without hope in
life than ever. Now it was different. He was going
forth upon an adventure fraught with all manner of
stirring potentialities one from which he would re-
turn wealthy, or, as his friend and thenceforth com-
rade had said, one from whicfy he would not return
at all.
Had his luck already begun to turn, he thought?
As he mounted the stoep Lilith herself came forth to
meet him. It struck him that the omen was a good
one.
" Why, you are becoming quite a stranger," she
said. But the note of gladness underlying the re-
proach did not escape him, nor a certain lighting up
of her face as they clasped hands, with the subtile
lingering pressure now never absent from that out-
wardly formal method of greeting.
"Am I?" he answered, thinking how soon, how
very soon, he would become one in reality. " But
you were going out? " For she had on her hat and
gloves, and carried a sunshade.
" I was. You are only just in time only just.
But I won't now that you have come."
" On the contrary, I want you to. I want you to
come out with me, and at once, before an irruption of
bores renders that manoeuvre impracticable. Will
you?"
" Of course I will. Which way shall we go? Up
to the town?"
"5
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Not much. Right in the opposite direction, and
as far away from it as possible. Are you alone?"
" Not quite alone. Aunt is having her afternoon
sleep; but May and George went to the town this
morning. They intended to have lunch at the Steven-
sons*, and then go on to the cricket ground. There's
a match or something on to-day. George was cross
because I wouldn't go too ; but I had a touch of head-
ache, and went to sleap instead. And oh, Laurence,
I had such a horrible dream. It was about you."
" Oh, was it?" The words rapped themselves out
quickly, nervously, more so than she had ever heard
him talk before. But the awful and ghastly crisis of
the morning was recalled by her words. "About
me? Tell it to me."
" I can't. It was all rather vague, and y.et so real.
I dreamed that you were in the face of some strange,
some horrible danger, against which I was powerless
to warn you. I struggled to, even prayed. Then I
was able. I warned you, and the danger seemed to
pass. And oh, Laurence, I woke up crying!"
" Your dream was a true one, my Lilith. No, I
will not tell you how or in what way. And will you
always be empowered to warn me to save me, my
sweet guardian angel? I shall need it often enough
during the next er in the time that is coming."
His face had taken on an unwonted expression,
and his tones were suspiciously husky. Lilith looked
wonderingly at him, and her own expression was
grave and earnest. The sweet eyes became dewy
with unshed tears.
" You know I will, if I may," she answered, steal-
116
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
ing a hand into his for a sympathetic pressure, as they
walked side by side.
They had been walking at a good pace over the
open, treeless veldt, and the roofs of Booyseus were
now quite dwarfed behind them.
" But, tell me," she continued, " are things any
better? Oh, it is dreadful that you should have come
all this way only to be more completely ruined than
before dreadful! I am always thinking about it.
Yet I am of a hopeful disposition, as I told you. I
never despair. Things will take a turn. They must."
" They have taken a turn, Lilith, but not in the
direction you mean. I am going away."
She started. She knew that those words must one
day be spoken. Now that they had been, they hurt.
"Back to England?"
The words came out breathlessly, and with a sort
of gasp.
" No, not there. I am going up country, into the
interior."
"Oh!"
There was relief in the ejaculation. For the mo-
ment she lost sight of all that was involved by such a
destination. They would still be in the same land.
That was something or seemed so.
Now all the latent instincts, never half drawn forth,
surged like molten volcano fires through Laurence
Stanninghame's soul. The dead and stormy nature,
slain within him, revivified, burst forth into warm,
pulsating, struggling, rebellious life. This striving of
heart against heart, this desperate effort still to patch
up the rents in the flimsy veil, moved him infinitely.
117
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The veldt on the Witwatersrand is as open and devoid
of cover as a billiard-table. The two were visible for
miles. But for this he knew not what he might have
done rather he knew full well what he certainly
would have done.
They took refuge in practical topics; they talked
of the up-country trip.
" You are very friendly with that Mr. Hazon, are
you not, Laurence? Nobody else is, and there are
strange stories, not told, but hinted about him. He
is a man I should be almost afraid of, and yet half
admire. He strikes me as one who would be a ter-
rible and relentless enemy, but as true as steel, true
to self-sacrificing point, to a friend."
" That's exactly my opinion. Now, Hazon and I
suit each other down to the ground. I have an
especial faculty, remember, for getting on with un-
popular individuals."
Thus they talked, and at length time forced them
to turn their steps homeward. And as the sun rays
began to slant golden upon the surrounding veldt, it
seemed to Laurence that even that triste wilderness
took on a glow that was more than of earth. How
that afternoon, that walk, would dwell within his
memory, stamped there indelibly! He thought how
the day had opened, of that gnawing mental struggle
culminating in what? But for this girl at his side
he would now be what? She had saved him, she
alone her confidence in him, her high opinion of
him, and her love. Yes, her love. He looked upon
her as she walked beside him, entrancing beyond
words in her rich, warm beauty, a perfect dream of
118
HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL.
grace and symmetry. Even the hot sunlight seemed
to linger, as with a kiss, upon the dark, brilliant loveli-
ness of her eyes, on the soft curve of her lips.
" You are cruel, sorceress," he broke forth. " You
have made yourself look especially enchanting be-
cause soon I shall see you no more. You are looking
perfect."
She flashed a bright smile upon him, but it seemed
to fade into a shadow, as of pain.
"Am I? Well, Laurence, one knows instinctively
when one is looking one's best. It would be affecta-
tion to pretend otherwise. And I love to make
myself look bright and sweet and attractive for you.
And now oh, dear, we are nearly home again.
Come in with me now and stay the evening. We
shall not be alone together again, I fear this even-
ing, I mean. But you will be going away so soon
now, and I must see as much of you as I can."
He needed no persuasion. And as Lilith had said,
they were not alone together again. But even the
jealous George, who came back from the town more
cantankerous than ever on learning of this addition,
found balm in Gilead. That brute Stanninghame
was going away up-country soon, he put it. Heaven
send a convenient shot of malaria or a providential
assegai prod to keep him there forever!
119
CHAPTER X.
PREPARATION.
THE days went by and Hazon's preparations were
nearly completed, and it became patent to the Rand at
large that " The Pirate " intended to relieve that de-
lusive locality of his unwelcome presence; for a
couple of waggons appeared on the scene, bearing his
name, and in charge of a mysterious native of
vast proportions and forbidding physiognomy, who
seemed not to be indigenous to those parts, nor, in-
deed, to hail from anywhere around. And Hazon, in
his quiet, thorough way, was very busy in fitting out
these waggons, loading them with articles suitable for
up-country trade, eke with munitions of sport, and,
if need be, war. Wherein he was ably assisted by
Laurence Stanninghame.
On learning that the latter was a party to the
undertaking, whatever it was, the Rand shrugged its
shoulders, and whispered; and the burden of its
whispering consisted mainly of the ancient innuendo
relating to those who had heretofore accompanied
Hazon anywhere. This one would he not travel
the same dark road as others had done, whatever that
road might be? But that was his own lookout, and
he had been warned. And the two men would hold
long and earnest confabs together; but those which
120
PREPARATION.
were the most earnest were held in the course of long
rides away into the veldt. Then they would dis-
mount at some sequestered spot, where, secure from
all interruption, weather-beaten maps and plans and
darkly written memos., also ciphers, would be pro-
duced and long and carefully discussed. Of this,
however, the Rand knew nothing; yet from such
Laurence would return feeling a trifle graver, for even
he had to accustom himself to such a road to wealth
as was here held out. But his case was desperate.
He was utterly ruined, and to the same extent reck-
less. It was sink or swim, and not his was the mind
to elect to go under when the jettison of a last linger-
ing scruple or two would keep him afloat. As for
potential nay, certain risk, that did not enter into
his calculations.
Now, while these preparations were in progress,
Holmes was going about with a very gloomy counte-
nance; more than hinting, indeed, at a desire to take
part in the trip. Finally, he put it plainly to Lau-
rence himself.
" Take my advice and watch it," the latter decisively
replied. Then remembering that the ostensible
object of the undertaking was sport and native trade,
he went on, " You see, Holmes, it's going to be a hard
business. Not just three or four months up in the
bush-veldt and so forth, but well, Heaven only
knows where the thing will end, let alone how."
" I don't care about that. Why, it's just the very
thing that '11 suit me down to the ground. I say,
Stanninghame, I know you don't mind, but Hazon?
I've always stood up for Hazon, and we seem to get
121
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
on all right? Do put it to Hazon. I could pay my
shot, of course."
There was a despondency of manner and tone that
was extremely foreign to the mercurial Holmes, and
this, together with certain signs he had read of late,
caused Laurence to look up with a queer half smile.
" Why are you so anxious to clear from here,
Holmes? Rather sudden, isn't it? "
" Oh, I'm dead off waiting for a ' boom ' that never
comes. It's dashed sickening, don't you know."
" It is. And what else is dashed sickening? That
isn't all."
The other stared for a moment, then, as though he
were bringing it out with an effort, he burst forth:
" Oh, well, hang it all, Stanninghame, I don't see
why I shouldn't tell you. The fact is I've I've got
the chuck."
Laurence laughed inwardly. He understood.
" Why, I thought you were bringing it on all right,"
he said.
" So did I ; but when I put it to her, she was dead
off," said Holmes, disconsolately savage.
"Sure?"
" Cert."
" Well, give her another show. Some women
girls especially like that sort of application twice
over. They think it enhances their value in some
inexplicable way," said Laurence, with a touch of
characteristic satire. " I don't, but that's a matter of
opinion. And, I don't want to hurt your feelings,
Holmes, but is this one worth it? "
" I don't know," answered the other savagely,
122
PREPARATION.
driving his heel into the ground. " It's that beast
Barstow. What the deuce she can see in him, bangs
me."
" Yes, unless it is that you hold a quantity of un-
saleable scrip and he doesn't," rejoined Laurence,
who had been secretly amused in watching the prog-
ress of pretty Mabel Falkner's latest preference.
" But in any case I think you'd better not touch it,
or you'll find yourself on the one horn or other of this
dilemma ; if she is coming the ' playing off ' trick,
why, that is despicable, and in fact not good enough;
if she means business, why, you can't go begging to
her for what she has given to the other Johnny with-
out any begging at all. See?"
" Oh, yes, I see," was the rueful rejoinder. " By
the Lord, Stanninghame, I used to think you a deuced
snarling, cynical beggar at first, but now, 'pon my
soul, I believe you're right."
" Do you? Well, then, you don't want to go
away up-country and get bowled out with fever or
struck by a nigger, and all that sort of thing, because
one girl don't care a cent for you."
" Perhaps not. Still, I hate this place now. I'm
sick of it. By the way, Stanninghame, you're the
sort a fellow can tell anything to; you don't start a
lot of cheap blatant chaff as some chappies do when
you want them to talk sound sense."
There was a great deal underlying the remark, also
the tone. Though lacking the elements which go to
make up the " popular " man, Laurence possessed
the faculty of winning the devoted attachment of indi-
viduals, and that to an extent of which he himself little
123
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
dreamed. Not the least important item which went
to make up that attribute lay in the fact that he was
a most indulgent listener, whom nothing astonished,
and who could look at all sides of any given question
with the tact and toleration of a man who thinks.
This faculty he seldom exercised, and then almost un-
consciously.
To the other's remark he made no immediate reply.
Taking into consideration age and temperament, he
had.no belief that Holmes' rejection and disappoint-
ment had left any deep wound. Still, it had come
at an unfortunate time a time when the sufferer, in
common with most of them, had been hard hit in a
more material way. He had a genuine liking for the
sunny-natured, open-hearted youth; a liking be-
gotten, it might be, of the ingenuously unconscious
manner in which the latter looked up to him, in fact,
made a sort of elder brother of him. Holmes was
no stronger-headed than most youngsters of his
temperament and circumstances, and Laurence did
not want to see him soured and dejected by disap-
pointment all round throw himself in with the reck-
less, indiscriminate bar-frequenter, of whom there
were not lacking woeful examples in those days,
though, poor fellows, much from the same motive, to
drown care; and into this current would Holmes in
all probability be swept if left by himself in Johannes-
burg. Was there no method of taking him with
them for a month or two's shoot in the bush-veldt,
and sending him back by some returning expedition
before the serious part of the undertaking was entered
upon? He decided to sound Hazon upon the matter,
124
PREPARATION.
yet of this resolve he said nothing now to Holmes.
The latter broke the silence.
"By Jove, Stanninghame, I envy you!' he said.
" You are such a hard-headed chap. Why, I don't
believe you care a little d for any mortal thing in
the world. Yes, I envy you."
" You needn't, if it means hankering after the pro-
cess by which that blissful state is attained. But you
are wrong. I care most infernally about one thing."
"And what's that? What is it, old chap? You
needn't be afraid I'll let on!" said Holmes eagerly,
anticipating it might be something similar in the way
of a confidence to that which his own exuberant heart
had not been able to refrain from making.
" Why, that I was stewed idiot enough to go on
investing in this infernal scrip instead of clearing out
just when I had made the modest profit of four hun-
dred per cent."
" Oh ! " said the other, in disappointed surprise,
adding, " But you don't show it. You take it smiling,
Stanninghame. You don't turn a hair."
"H'm!"
With the ejaculation, Laurence was thinking of a
certain room, shaded from the glare of the sunlight
without, and of a very grim moment indeed. He
was looking, too, at the 'hearty, bright-mannered
youngster who had already begun to forget his recent
disappointment in the prospect of adventure and
novelty. He himself had been nearly as light-
hearted, just as ready to mirth and laughter at that
age. Yet now? Would it be the same with this
one? Who could say?
125
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The suggestion that Holmes should accompany
the expedition was not received with enthusiasm by
Hazon, neither did it meet with immediate and
decisive repudiation. Characteristically, Hazon pro-
ceeded to argue out the matter pro and con.
" He doesn't know the real nature of our business,
Stanninghame? no, of course not. Thinks it's only
a shooting trip? good. Well, the question is, are
we dead certain of finding opportunities for sending
hirr jack; for we can't turn him loose on the veldt
and say good-bye? "
" There are several places where we might drop
him," said Laurence, consulting a map and mention-
ing a few.
" Quite so. Well, here's another consideration.
He's a youngster, and probably has scores of relations
more or less interested in him. We don't want to
draw down inquiries and investigations into our move-
ments and affairs."
" That won't count seriously, Hazon."
" Think not? Um! Well then, what if we were to
take him along run him into the whole shoot
with us?"
"Phew! That's a horse whose colour I've never
scrutinized. And the point? "
" Might help us in more ways than one; in case of
difficulties afterwards, I mean. The idea seems to
knock you out some, Stanninghame?"
There was something in it. Laurence, reckless,
unscrupulous as he was, could not but hesitate. In
striving to save his young friend from one form of
ruin, was it written that he should plunge him into
126
PREPARATION.
another more irretrievable, more sweeping, more
lifelong?
" I am thinking he might give us trouble," he re-
plied deliberately. " What if he sickened of the
whole business, and kicked just when we wanted to
pull together the most? No, no, Hazon. If we take
him at all, we must send him back as I say. It's all
very well for us two, but it doesn't seem quite the
thing to run a fresh-hearted youngster, with all his
life before him, and bursting with hopes and ideals,
into a grim business of this kind. But taking him,
or leaving him, rests with you entirely."
" Leave it that way, then. I'll think it over and
see if it pans out any," said Hazon, leisurely lighting
a fresh pipe. " But, Stanninghame, what's this?" he
added, with a sudden, keen glance out of his piercing
eyes. " You are letting yourself go with regard to
this matter showing feeling. That won't do, you
know. You've got to have no sample of that sort of
goods about you, no more than can be put into a
block of granite. Aren't you in training yet? "
" Well, I think so ; or, at any rate, shall be long
before it is wanted seriously."
No more was said on the subject then.
As the preparations progressed, and the time for
the start drew near, it seemed to Laurence Stanning-
hame that more and more was the old life a mere
dream, a dream of the past. Sometimes in his sleep
he would be back in it, would see the dinginess of the
ramshackle semi-detached, would hear the vulgar
sounds of the vulgar suburban street; and he would
127
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
turn uneasily in his dreams, with a depressing con-
sciousness of dust and discord, and a blank wall as of
the hopelessness of life drawn across his path. Feel-
ing? Pooh! Who would miss him out of the tradi-
tional " charm " of the family circle? A new toy,
costing an extra shilling or so, would quite knock out
all and any recollection of himself. There were times
when in his dreams he had even returned to the
domestic ark, and in the result a day of welcome and
comparative peace, then discord and jangling strife as
before, and the ever weighing-down, depressing,
crushing consciousness of squalid penury for the rest
of his natural life. From such visions he had awak-
ened, awakened with a start of exultant gratulation, to
find the glow of the African sun streaming into the
room; every nerve tingling with a consciousness of
strength and braced-up vigour; his mind rejoicing to
look forward into the boundless possibilities held out
by the adventure in which he was involved ; that other
ghastly horror, which had haunted him for so long,
now put far away. Risk, excitement, peril, daring,
to be rewarded by wealth, after long years of un-
natural stagnation. The prospect opened out a vista
as of boundless delight.
Yet was this dashed dashed by an impending part-
ing. The certainty of this would ever intrude and
quench his exultation. Sweet Lilith! how she had
subtilely intertwined herself within his life! Well, he
was strong; he could surely keep himself in hand. It
should be a part of his training. Still, though the
certainty of impending separation would quench his
exultation, on awakening to the light of each new day,
128
PREPARATION.
which brought that parting nearer, yet there was
another certainty, that at least a portion of every such
day should be spent with her.
But even he, with all his strength, with all his fore-
sight, little realized what the actual moment of that
parting should mean.
129
CHAPTER XL
HE was there to say good-bye.
As he sat waiting, the soft subdued hush of the
shaded room, in its cool fragrance, struck upon his
senses as with an influence of depression, of sadness,
of loss. He had come to bid farewell. Farewell!
Now the moment had arrived he, somehow, felt it.
Would she never come in? His nerves seemed all
on edge, and ever upon the glowing midday heat, the
jarring thump of the Crown Reef battery beat its
monotonous time. Then the door opened softly, and
Lilith entered.
Never had she seemed to look more sweet, more
inviting. The rich, dark beauty, always more en-
thralling, more captivating when warmed by the
constant kiss of its native southern sun; the starry
eyes, wide with earnestness; the sad, sweet expression
of the wistful lips; the glorious splendour of the per-
fect form, in its cool, creamy white draperies.
Laurence Stanninghame, gazing upon her, realized
with a dull, dead ache at the heart, that all his self-
boasted strength was but the veriest weakness. And
now he had come to say farewell.
" I can hardly realize that we shall not see each
other again," Lilith said, after a transparently feeble
130
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
attempt or two on the part of both of them to talk
on indifferent subjects. " When do you expect to
return? How long will you be away? "
" ' It may be for years, and it may be for ever/ "
quoted Laurence, a bitter ring in his tone. "Probably
the latter."
" You must not say that. Remember what I told
you, more than once before. I am always hopeful,
I never despair, even when things look blackest
either for myself or other people. Though, I dare
say, you are laughing to yourself now at the idea of
things being anything but bright to me. Well,
then, I predict you will come back with what you
want. You will return rich, and all will look up then
for you."
She spoke lightly, smilingly. He, listening, gazing
at her, felt bitter. He had been mistaken. Well, he
had found out his mistake, only just in time only
just. But even he, with all his observant perceptive-
ness, had failed to penetrate Lilith's magnificent self-
command.
" Let us hope your prediction will prove a true,
one," he said, falling in with her supposed mood.
" The one thing to make life worth living is wealth.
I will stick at nothing to obtain it nothing! With-
out it, life is a hell; with it well, life is at one's feet.
There *is nothing one cannot do with it nothing."
His eyes glowed with a sombre light. There was
a world of repressed passion in his tone, the resent-
ful snarl, as he thought of the past squalor and bitter-
ness of life, mingling with the savage determination
and unscrupulous recklessness of the born adventurer.
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" There is one thing you cannot obtain for it," she
said. " That is love."
" But it can bring you all that will cause you to
feel no longing for that deceptive illusion. You can
forget that such a thing exists can forget it in the
renewed exuberance of vitality which is sheer enjoy-
ment of living. Well, wish me luck. ' Good-bye '
is a dreadful word, but it has to be said."
He had risen and stood blindly, half-bewilderedly.
The shaded room, the sensuous fragrance of her
presence, every graceful movement, the fascination
of the wide, earnest eyes, all was more than beginning
to intoxicate him, to shatter his chain-armour of
bitterness and self-control. He, the strong, the in-
vulnerable, the man in whom all heart and feeling
was dead what sorcery was this? He was be-
witched, entranced, enthralled. His strength was as
water. Yet not.
They stood facing each other, glance fused into
glance. At that moment heart seemed opened to
heart to be gazing therein.
" Good-bye," he said. " Don't quite forget me,
Lilith dear. Think a little now and then of the times
we have had together." Then their lips met in a long
kiss. And she said nothing. Perhaps she could
not. The flood-gate of an awful torrent of pent-up,
bravely controlled grief may be opened in the utter-
ance of that word " good-bye."
Laurence Stanninghame seemed to walk blindly,
staggering in the strong sunlight. Was it the midday
heat, or the strong glare? The ever-monotonous
132
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
beat of the Crown Reef stamps seemed to hammer
within his brain, which seethed and swirled with the
recollection of that last long kiss. He would not
look back. Impervious to the furnace-like heat, he
stepped out over the veldt at a pace which, by the
time he reached the corner of the Wemmer property,
caused him to look up wonderingly, that he should
already be entering the town.
" Oh, there you are, Stanninghame," sung out a
voice, whose owner nearly cannoned into him. Lau-
rence looked up.
" Here I am, as you say, Holmes," he answered,
quite coolly and unconcernedly. " But where are you
bound for, and what's the excitement, anyway? "
" Why, I thought I'd see if I could meet you.
Hazon said you had gone down to Booyseus this
morning. What do you think? I've got round him,
and I'm going with you."
Laurence stared, then looked grave.
" Going with us, eh? I say, youngster, have you
made your will? "
" Haven't got anything to leave. But, Stanning-
hame, I'm awfully obliged to you, old fellow. It's all
through you I've got round the old man."
" Have you any sort of idea what our program is? "
" None. And I don't care."
Laurence whistled.
" See here, Holmes," he said, " this thing has got
to be looked into. In fact, it can't go on."
" Yes it can, and it shall. Don't be a beast, now,
Stanninghame. I'd go anywhere with you two fel-
lows, and I'm dead off this waiting for a boom that
133
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
never comes. I shall be as stony broke as the rest
of them if I hold on any longer. So I'm going to
realize at a loss, and go with you. Come along, now,
to Phillips' bar and we'll split a bottle of cham. to the
undertaking."
" You don't need to buzz to that extent, Holmes.
I hate ' gooseberry.' ' John Walker ' is good enough
for me."
They reached Phillips', and found that historic bar
far from empty; and young Holmes, who was full of
exhilaration over the prospects of this trip, was in-
sisting that many should drink success thereto.
Laurence, silent amid the racket of voices, was
curiously watching him. This joyous-hearted young-
ster, would he ever come to look back upon life as
a thing that had far better have never been lived?
And he smiled queerly to himself as he thought what
would be the effect upon Holmes of the experiences
he would bring back with him from that trip to which
he was looking forward so joyously, so hopefully
if he returned from it at all, that was if, indeed, any
of them did. But throughout the racket the strife
of tongues, the boisterous guffaw over some cheap
" wheeze " the recollection of the shaded room, of
that last good-bye in the cloudless noontide pressed
like a living weight upon his heart. Never would it
be obliterated never.
Throughout the afternoon Laurence busied himself
greatly over the final preparations. He did not even
feel tempted to ride over to Booyseus, on some pre-
text. Lilith would not be alone. There was always
134
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
a host of people there of an afternoon callers,
lawn-tennis players, and so forth. The ineffably
sweet sadness of that last parting must be the recol-
lection he was to carry forth with him.
It was evening. The wagons had been started
just before sundown, and now their owners were
riding out of the town to overtake them. Young
Holmes, suffering under an exuberance of exhilara-
tion begotten of multifold good-byes effected to a
spirituous accompaniment, was not so firm in his
saddle as he might have been; but on the hardened
heads of the other two the effect of such farewells had
been nil. They were just getting clear of the town
when they became aware of a panting, puffing native
striving to overtake them.
" Why, it's John," said Hazon, recognizing one of
the coloured waiters at their hotel.
The boy ran straight up to Laurence, and held out
an envelope.
" For you, baas," he said. " The baas forgot to
give it you. Dank you, baas! " catching, with a grin,
something that was flung to him.
It was a delicate-looking envelope, and sealed.
What new surprise was this? as he took in the puzzling
yet characteristic handwriting of the address.
" I must see you once more," he read. " I cannot
let you go like this, Laurence, darling. Come to me
for one more good-bye. I shall be alone this evening.
Come to me, love of my heart. L."
135
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
"Pho! Of course it was not! It was too ridicu-
lous. It was not as if all heaven had opened before
his eyes. Of course not ! " he told himself.
But it was.
" By the way, Hazon," he said indifferently, " I
find there is still a matter I have to attend to. So
you must go on without me. I expect I'll overtake
you to-morrow not long after sunrise or not much
later. So-long!"
The dark, impassive face of the up-country man
underwent no change. He had understood the whole
change of plan, but it was no concern of his. So he
merely said " /a, so-long," and continued his way.
Laurence did not go back to the hotel. The last
thing he desired was that his return should be noticed
and commented upon. He sought out Rainsford,
who, having stable-room, willingly consented to put
up his steed, and, being a discreet fellow, was not
likely to indulge in undue tongue-wagging. Then he
took his way down to Booyseus.
As he stepped forth through the gloom for by
this time it was quite dark the words of that missive
seemed burned into his brain in characters of fire and
of gold. What words they were, too! He had read
her glance aright, then? It was only that intrepidity
of self-command which he had failed to allow for.
And he? Why had he been so strong that morning?
Seldom indeed did a second opportunity occur. But
now? When he should return up the hill he was now
descending, such a memory would be his to carry
forth with him into the solitude and peril and priva-
tion of his enterprise! Yet to what end? Even if
136
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
he were successful in amassing wealth untold, yet
they two must be as far apart as ever. Well, that
need not follow, he told himself. With wealth one
can do anything anything; without it nothing,
was at this time the primary article of Laurence
Stanninghame's creed; and at the thought his step
grew more elastic, and all unconsciously his head
threw itself back in a gesture of anticipatory triumph.
The house was quiet as he approached. At the
sound of his step on the stoep almost before he had
time to knock the door was opened was opened by
Lilith herself then closed behind him.
She said no word ; she only looked up at him. The
subdued light of the half-darkened hall softened as
with an almost unearthly beauty the upturned face,
and forth from it her eyes shone, glowed with the
lustre of a radiant tenderness, too vast, too over-
whelming for her lips to utter.
And he? He, too, said no word. Those lips of
hers, sweet, inviting, were pressed to his ; that peerless
form was wrapped in his embrace, sinking therein
with a soft sigh of contentment. What room was
there for mere words? as again and again he kissed
the lips eyes hair then the lips again. This was
only the beginning of a farewell visit, a sad, whirl-
ing, heart-break of farewell, yet as the blood surged
boiling through Laurence Stanninghame's veins, and
heart, pressed against heart, seemed swelled to burst-
ing point, he thought that life, even such as it had
been, was worth living if it could contain such a mo-
ment as this. Equally, too, did he realize that, in life
or in death, the triumph-joy of this moment should
137
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
illumine his memory, dark though it might be, for ever
and ever.
u What did you think of me when you got my note,
dear one? " she whispered at last. " And I have been
in perfect agony ever since, for fear it should be too
late. But I could not let you go as I did this morn-
ing. I felt such an irresistible craving to see you
again, Laurence, my darling, to hear your voice. I
felt we could not part as we did each trying to
deceive the other, each knowing, the while, that it
was impossible. I wanted more than that for a
memory throughout the blank time that is coming."
" Yes, we were both too strong, my Lilith. And
why should we have been? What scruple ever stood
anybody to the good in this hell-fraud of a state
called ' Life ' ? Not one not one ! Yes, we were too
strong, and your self-command deceived even me."
" My self-command? Ah, Laurence, my darling,
how little you knew! All the time I was battling
hard with myself, forcing down an irresistible long-
ing to do this and this and this ! " And drawing
down his head, she kissed him, again and again,
long, tender kisses, as though her whole soul sought
entrance into his.
" But I shall tire you, my dearest, if I keep you
standing here like this," she went on. " Come inside
now, and our last talk our last for a long time
shall, at any rate, be a cosey one."
She drew him within the half open door of an ad-
joining room. The window curtains were drawn,
and a shaded lamp gave forth the same subdued and
chastened light as that which burned in the hall.
138
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
There were flowers in vases and sprays, arranged in
every tasteful and delicate manner, and distilling a
fragrance subtile and pervading. The sumptuous
prettiness of the furniture and ornaments picture
frames encasing mystic and thought-evoking subjects,
books disposed here and there, delicate embroidery,
the work of her fingers in short, the hundred and
one dainty knick-knacks pleasing to the eye seemed
to reflect the bright, beautiful personality of Lilith;
for, indeed, the arrangement and disposal of them
was almost entirely her own.
She made him sit down upon the softest and most
comfortable couch; then, as she seated herself beside
him, he drew her head down to rest upon his shoulder
and wound his arms about her.
" Why did you wait until even the twelfth hour? "
he said. " Why did you blind me all this time, my
Lilith? Only think what we have lost by it! "
" Ah, yes, I have indeed. But tell me, dear one,
it is not too late, is it, even though it be the twelfth
hour?"
" It came very near being too late. I had already
started. Yes, it is indeed the twelfth hour. Too late?
I don't know," he went on, in a tone of sombre bitter-
ness. " Think of the blissful times that might have
been ours had I but known. I would have taught
you the real meaning of the word ' love.' I would
have drawn your innermost soul from you would
have drawn it into mine have twined every thought
of your being around mine had I but known. And I
could have done this; you know I could, do you not?
Think a moment, then answer."
139
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The head which rested on his shoulder seemed to
lean heavier there; the arm which encircled her was
pressed tighter by hers to the round, beautiful waist,
as though to bring herself closer within his embrace.
The answer came, rapturously sweet, but with a thrill
of pain:
" I know you could have. There is no need to
think, even for a moment. You have done it."
" I have tried to, even against difficulties. Come
what may, Lilith, you shall never be free from the
spell of this love of ours. All thoughts of other love
shall be flat, and stale, and dead; and now, when I
am gone, your whole soul shall ache and throb with a
sense of loss love and pain intertwined yet not
one pang of the latter would you forego, lest it should
lessen the rapturous keenness of the former in the
minutest degree. This is what you have caused me
to suffer by reason of your stony self-command up
till this morning. Now you shall suffer it too."
His tones were calm, even almost stern as those of
a judge pronouncing sentence. Lilith, drinking in
every word, felt already that every word was true.
That sense of love and pain was already in possession
of her soul, and would retain possession until all
capacity for feeling \vas dulled and dead.
" You were cruel to draw my very soul out of me
as you have done to force me to love you as I do,"
she answered " cruel and pitiless."
"What then? I was but carrying out the pro-
gram of life. It is that way. But tell me, would
you have preferred that I had not done it that I
had passed by on the other side?"
140
"AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
"Oh, my Laurence, no! No, no ten thousand
times no! The mere recollection of such an hour as
this is worth a life-time of the awful pain of loss of
which you speak and which is around me already."
" That was my own judgment when I first recog-
nized that a strong mutual ' draw ' was bringing us
together. I foresaw this moment, and deliberately
acquiesced in fate."
Now the soft waves of her hair swept his face, now
the satin smoothness of her cheek lay against his.
Lips met lips again and again, and never for a mo-
ment did the clasp of that firm embrace relax. The
dead blank hopelessness of life and its conditions,
then, had still contained this, had culminated in this?
As he thus held her to him, as though he would hold
her forever, some dreamy brain-wave seemed to carry
Laurence's mind into the dim and somewhat awe-
some vistas of the future, to bring it face to face
with death in varying and appalling forms. What
mattered! The recollection of this farewell hour here,
in the half-shaded room, with its subtile fragrance of
flowers and mysterious light, would be with him then.
Such an hour as this would be a crowning triumph
to the apex of life. Better that life should end than
lengthen out to witness a decline from this apex.
As Lilith had said, he was cruel and pitiless in his
love. What then? It was characteristic of him.
Had not all experience taught him that the slightest
weakness, the slightest compunction, was that faulty
link which should snap the chain, be the latter never
so massively forged? He remembered how they had
141
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
held discussion as to whether right might ensue from
what was wrong in the abstract. He remembered
the cold, hard imprint of the revolver-muzzle against
his forehead, the increasing pressure of his thumb
upon the trigger, then the thought of Lilith's love had
come in as a hand stretched forth to snatch him from
the jaws of death. And it had so snatched him.
What were the mere conventional rules of abstract
right or wrong beside such an instance of cause and
effect? Old wives' fables.
They were standing up, face to face, looking into
each other's eyes. The hour was late now. Any
moment the household might return. Both desired
that the last farewell should take place alone. Not
for the sake of a few more precious moments would
they run the risk of being cheated out of that last
farewell.
" You sweet, cruel, pitiless torturer," Lilith said,
locking her hands in his, as they rose, " you have
placed my life under one great lasting shadow,
because of the recollection of you. How will it be,
think you, when I wake up to-morrow and find you
are gone if I sleep at all that is? How will it be
when, day after day, week after week Ah, love,
love," she broke off, " and yet I cannot say, ' Why
did you do it? ' for your very cruelty in doing it is
sweet sweet, do you hear, Laurence? Have you
ever been loved tell me, have you, have you?" she
went on, drawing his head down with a sort of
fierceness and again pressing her burning lips
to his.
142
-AT THE TWELFTH HOUR."
" At the twelfth hour! at the twelfth hour! " he re-
peated, in a kind of condemnatory merciless tone,
while his clasp tightened around the lovely form,
which seemed literally to hang in his arms. " Love
of my heart, think what such an hour as this might
have been, not once, but again and again, and that
undashed with the pain of immediate parting as now.
Why did we why did you wait until the very
twelfth hour? Why?"
" Why, indeed? Darling, darling, don't reproach
me. You have drawn my very heart and soul into
yours. Think of it ever, day and night, whatever
may befall you. Oh, Laurence, my heart's life ! "
Now this hard, stony, self-controlled stoic dis-
covered that his granite nature was shaken to its
foundation. But, even then, the unutterable sweet-
ness of the thought that he, and he alone, had lived
to inspire the anguish of the pleading tones that
thrilled to his ear, thrilled with love for him, to en-
kindle the light that shone from those eyes, melting
with love for him; this thought flowed in upon the
torrent-wave of his pain, rendering it bliss, yet lash-
ing it up the more fiercely.
There was silence for a few moments. Both stood
gazing into each other's eyes; gazing, as it were, into
the innermost depths of each other's soul. Then the
sound of voices drawing nearer, rising above the
clanking hum of the Crown Reef battery, seemed to
warn them that if their last farewell was to be made
alone the time to make it had come.
" Good-bye, now, love of my heart," he whispered,
between long, burning, clinging kisses. Now that
143
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
this final parting had come, the dead, dreary, heart-
sick pain of it seemed to choke all utterance.
She strained him to her, and heart throbbed against
heart. Even now she seemed to see his face mistily
and far away.
"Oh, it is too bitter!" she gasped, striving to
drown her rising sobs. " Laurence, my darling!
Oh, my love, my life, my ideal yes, you were that
from the moment I first saw you good-bye and
good-bye ! "
He was gone. It was as though their embrace had
literally been wrenched asunder. He was gone. And
even as he passed from her vision, from the light
into the gloom, so it seemed as though he had borne
the light of her life with him, and, as Lilith stood there
in the open doorway, gazing forth into the night, the
dull- measured clank of the battery stamps seemed to
beat in cruel, pitiless refrain within her heart:
" At the twelfth hour! at the twelfth hour! "
144
CHAPTER XII.
" THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH."
THE sun is setting above the tropical forest hot
and red and smoky his fiery ball imparting some-
thing of a coppery molten hue to the vast seas of
luxuriant verdure, rolling, with scarce a break, on all
sides, far as the eye can reach. But beneath, in the
dim shade, where the air is choked by rotting under-
growth and tangled vegetation, the now slanting rays
are powerless to penetrate, powerless to dispel the
steamy miasmic exhalations. Silence, too, is the rule
in that semi-gloom, save for here and there the half-
frightened chirp of a bird far up among the tree-tops,
or the stealthy rustle beneath as some serpent, or huge
venomous insect, moves upon its way. For among
the decayed wood of fallen tree trunks, and dry lichens
and hoary mosses growing therefrom, do such
delight to dwell.
Beautiful as this shaded solitude is with its vistas
of massive tree-trunk and sombre foliage, the latter
here and there relieved by clusters of scarlet-hued
blossoms, there is withal an awesomeness about its
beauty. Even the surroundings will soon begin to
take on shape, and the boles and tossing boughs,
and naked, dead, and broken fragments starting from
the dank soil, assume form, attitude, countenance,
145
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
in a hundred divers contortions gnome-like, gro-
tesque, diabolical. Strange, too, if the wayfarer
threading the steamy mazes of these unending glades
does not soon think to hear ghostly whisperings in
the awed silence of the air, does not conjure up un-
seen eyes marking his every step for the hot moist
depression is such as to weigh alike upon nerve and
brain.
And now, through the sombre vistas of this phan-
tom-evoking solitude, faint and far comes a strange
sound a low, vibrating, booming hum, above which,
now and again, arises a shrill, long-drawn wail. The
effect is indescribably gruesome and eerie in fact,
terror-striking even if human, for there is an inde-
finable something, in sight, and sound, and surround-
ing, calculated to tell, if telling were needed, that this
is indeed one of " the dark places of the earth."
But if the sinking beams of the orb of light fail to
penetrate this foliage and enshrouded gloom, they
slant hot and red upon an open space, and that
which this space contains. Inclosed within an ir-
regular stockade mud-plastered, reed-thatched
stand the huts of a native village.
The noise which penetrated in faint eerie murmur to
yon distant forest shades is here terrific the booming
of drums, the cavernous bellowing of the native horns,
drowning rather than supporting the shrill yelling
chorus of the singers. For a great dance is pro-
ceeding.
Immediately within the principal gate of the stock-
ade is a large open space, and in this the dancers are
performing. In a half circle in the background sit
146
"THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH/'
a number of women and children, aiding with shrill
nasal voices the efforts of the " musicians."
The dancers, to the number of about a hundred,
seem to represent the warrior strength of the place.
They are wild-looking savages enough with their
cicatrized and tattooed faces, and wool, red with
grease and ochre and plaited into tags, standing out
like horns from their heads, giving them a frightfully
demoniacal aspect as they whirl and leap, brandish-
ing spears and axes, and going through the pantomime
of slaying an enemy. They are of fair physique,
though tall and gaunt rather than sturdy of build.
And is it a mere accident, or in accordance with
some custom not one there present whether among
the truculent crew executing the dance or among the
women in the background, appears to have attained
old age.
The whole scene is sufficiently repulsive, even ter-
rifying, to come upon suddenly from the silent heart
of the dark, repellent forest. But there is yet another
setting to the picture, which shall render it complete
in every hideous and horrifying detail. For the prin-
cipal gate itself is decorated with a complete archway
of human heads.
Heads in every stage of horror and decay from
the white, bleached skull, grinning dolefully, to the
bloated features of that but lately severed, scowling
outward with an awful expression of terror and agony
and hate an archway of them arranged in some grim
approach to regularity or taste. This dreadful gate
is indeed a fitting entrance to a devil's abode, and now,
as the red, fiery rays of the sinking sun play full
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
upon it, the tortured features seem to move and pucker
as though blasted with the flame of satanic fires. A
crow, withdrawing his beak from the sightless eye-
holes of one of the skulls, soars upward, black and
demon-like, uttering a weird, raucous croak.
But as the sun touches the far-away sky line the
dance suddenly ceases. In wild hubbub the fighting
men stream out of the stockade, through the awful
archway of heads. They are followed by women,
bearing strange-looking baskets and great knives.
All are in high spirits, chattering and laughing among
each other.
The forest on this side grows almost to the gate.
Just where its shade begins the crowd halts, cluster-
ing eagerly around two trees which stand a little apart
from the rest. But from one to the other of these
two trees is lashed a stout beam, such as butchers
might use for hoisting the carcass of a slain bullock.
And look! below are oblong slabs of massive wood,
and upon them is blood. This is the cattle-killing
place, then, and these warriors are about to slaughter
the material for a feast !
Now there is more chatter and hubbub, and all
faces are turned towards the grim gate are turned
expectantly; for the cattle awaited. Then a shout,
an exclamation, goes up. The material for the feast
is drawing near.
The material for the feast! Heavens! No cattle
this, but human beings !
Human beings! Bound, trussed, helpless, five
human bodies are borne along by their head and heels,
and flung down anyhow at the place of slaughter.
148
"THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH."
The eyeballs of the victims are starting from their
heads with terror and despair as their glance falls
upon the grisly instruments of death. Yet no sur-
prise is there, for they have seen it all before.
Three of the five are old men. These are seized
first, and, a thong being made fast to their ankles,
they are hauled up to the beam, where, hanging head
downwards, they are butchered like calves. And
those who are most active in at any rate preparing
them for the slaughter, are their own children their
oivn sons.
These go about their work without one spark of
pity, one qualm of ruth. Will not their own turn
come in the course of years, should they not be slain
in battle or the chase in the interim? Of course.
Why then heed such vain sentiment? It is the
custom. Old and useless people are not kept among
this tribe.
The other two, who are not old, but prisoners of
war, suffer in like manner; and then all five of the
bodies are flung on to the blocks and quartered and
disjointed with astonishing celerity. And women
bearing the oblong baskets return within the stock-
ade, passing through the hideous gateway, staggering
beneath the weight of limbs and trunks of their
slaughtered fellow-species. Within the open space
great fires now leap and crackle into life, roaring up-
ward upon the still air, reddening as with a demon-
glow this hellish scene, and, gathering around, the
savages impatiently and with hungry eyes watch the
cooking of the disjointed members, and, hardly able
to restrain their impatience, snatch their horrible
149
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
roast from the flames and embers before it is much
more than warmed through; and with laugh and
shout the cannibal orgy goes on, prolonged far into
the night, the bones and refuse being flung to the
women in the background.
At last, surfeited with their frightful feast, these
demons in human shape drop down and sleep like
brute beasts. And the full moon soaring high in the
heavens looks down with a gibing sneer in her cold
cruel face upon this scene of a shocking human
shambles; and her light, so far from irradiating this
" dark place of the earth," seems but to shed a livid
sulphurous glare upon a very antechamber of hell.
The moon floats higher and higher above the tropi-
cal forest, flooding the seas of slumbering foliage
with silver light. Hour follows upon hour, and in
the stockaded village all is silent as with the stillness
of death. The ghastly remnants of that fearful feast
lie around in the moonbeams human bones, picked
clean, yet expressive in their shape, spectral, as though
they would fain reunite, and, vampire-like, return to
drain the life-blood of these human wolves who devour
their own kind. But the sleep of the latter is calm,
peaceful, secure.
Secure? Wait! What are these stealthy forms
rising noiselessly among the undergrowth on the out-
skirts of the clearing? Are they ghosts? Ghosts of
those thus barbarously slain and of many others before
them? The moonlit sward is alive with flitting
shapes, gliding towards the stockade, surrounding it
on all sides with a celerity and fixity of purpose which
150
"THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH."
can have but one meaning. And among them is the
glint of metal, the shining of rifle barrels and spear
blades.
The inhabitants of that village are savages, and
thus, for all their flesh-gorged state of heavy slumber,
are instinctively on the alert. They wake, and rush
forth with wild yells of alarm, of warning. But to
many of them it is the last sound they shall utter,
for numberless forms are already swarming over the
stockade, and now the stillness is rent by the roar of
firearms. Dark, ferocious faces grin with exultation
as the panic-stricken inhabitants, decimated by that
deadly volley, turn wildly in headlong flight for the
only side of the stockade apparently left open. But
before these arises another mass of assailants, barring
their way, then springing upon them spear in hand;
and the fiendish war-whistle screeches its strident
chorus, as the broad spears shear down through
flesh and muscle; and the earth is slippery with
blood, ghastly with writhing and disemboweled
corpses.
If this nest of man-eaters was hellish before in its
bloodstained horror, words fail to describe its aspect
now. The savage shouts of the assailants, the despair-
ing screeches of women and children, who have come
forth only to find all escape cut off, the gasping groans
of the wounded and of the slain, the gaping gashes
and staggering forms, and ever around, grim, demon-
like countenances, with teeth bared and a perfect hell
of blood-fury gleaming from distended eyeballs.
All is but another inferno-picture, too common here
in the dark places of the earth. It seems that in a
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
very few minutes not a living being in that surprised
village will be left alive.
But now voices are raised in remonstrance, in com-
mand loud voices, authoritative voices ordering a
cessation of the massacre, for this is no expedition
of vengeance, but a slave-hunting party. In Swahili
and Zulu the leaders strive to curb this blood-rage
once let loose among their followers. But the savage
Wangoni, who are the speakers of the latter tongue
and who constitute about half the attacking party,
have tasted slaughter, and their ferocity is well-nigh
beyond control; indeed, but for the fact of being
allowed to massacre a proportion of the inhabitants
of each place attacked, they could not be enlisted for
such a purpose at all. Still their broad spears flash
in the moonlight, and all who are in the way feel them
combatants, shrieking women, paralyzed, crouch-
ing children; and not until the leader has threatened
to turn his rifles upon them will these ferocious
auxiliaries be persuaded to desist, and then only sul-
lenly, and growling like a pack of disappointed
wolves.
Fully one-half of the male inhabitants have been
slain and not a few women and children, and now,
as the heavy, sulphurous fumes of powder smoke roll
forth on the still, solemn beauty of the night, and the
Wangoni, reluctantly quitting the congenial work of
plunder and rapine, drive into open space every liv-
ing being they can muster, the two leaders step
forward, and with critical decision inspect the extent
and quality of their capture. Of the latter there are
none but able-bodied, for the sufficiently hideous
152
"THE DARK PLACES OF THE EARTH/'
reason already set forth. These are drafted into
gangs according to age or sex, and yoked together
like oxen, with heavy wooden yokes.
Upon the whole of this wild scene of carnage and
massacre the principal leader of the slave-hunters has
gazed unmoved. Not a shot has he fired, not deem-
ing it necessary, so complete was the panic wherewith
the cannibal village was overwhelmed. Rather have
his energies been devoted to restraining the blood-
thirst of his ferocious followers, for he looks upon the
tragedy with a cold commercial eye. Prisoners rep-
resent so many saleable wares. If - it is essential
that his hell-hounds shall taste a modicum of blood,
or their appetite for that species of quarry would be
gone, it is his business to see that they destroy no
more " property " than can be avoided.
The force is made up of Swahili and negroid Arabs,
and a strong contingent of Wangoni a Zulu-speak-
ing tribe, turbulent, warlike, and to whom such a
maraud as this comes as the most congenial occupa-
tion in the world.
The last-named savages are still looking through
the reed huts in search of food, arms, anything port-
able. If during their quest they happen upon a terri-
fied fugitive hoping for concealment, their delight
knows no bounds, for have they not the enjoyment
of privily spearing such, away from their leader's eye?
The said leader now gives the word to march, and
as the moonlight pales into the first grays of dawn
the scene of the massacre becomes plain in all its
appalling detail. Corpses ripped and slashed, lying
around in every contorted attitude, among broken
153
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
weapons and strewn about articles of clothing or
furniture. Everywhere blood the ground is slip-
pery with it, the huts are splashed with it, the persons
and weapons of the raiders are all horrid with it; and
in the midst that band of men and women yoked like
cattle, and with the same hopeless, stolid expression
now upon their countenances. Yet they are not
dejected. Their lives have been spared where others
have been slain. But they are slaves.
" Bid farewell to home, O foul and evil dogs who
devour each other," jeer the savage Wangoni, as
these are driven forth. " Whau! Ye shall keep each
other in meat on the way. Ha, ha! For in truth ye
are as fat oxen to each other," pointing with their
broad spears to the gruesome trees and crossbeam
the scene of the hideous cannibal slaughter. For the
Wangoni, by virtue of their Zulu origin, hold canni-
balism in the deepest horror and aversion.
These barbarians now, humming a bass war-song
as they march, are in high glee, for there are more
villages to raid. And as the whole party moves forth
from the glade once more to plunge within the forest
gloom, the air is alive with the circling of carrion
birds; and the newly risen sun darts his first arrowy
beam upon the scene of horror, lighting up the red
gore and the slain corpses, and the ghastly staring
heads upon the gateway. Even as his last ray fell
upon a tragedy of blood and of cruelty so now does
his first, for in truth this is one of the " dark places
of the earth."
J54
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MAN HUNTERS.
FOR some three hours the party moves forward
through the forest shades. Then a halt is called, and,
sentinels having been posted, soon the smoke of
bivouac fires ascends, and the clatter of cooking
utensils mingles with the hum of many voices.
The place selected is an open glade or clearing,
overhung on one side by hoary masses of rock. The
slave-hunters, as we have said, are divided into two
sections, one consisting of negroid Arabs and Wa-
Swahili, believers in the Prophet mostly, and clad in
array once gaudy but now soiled and tarnished, some
few, however, wearing the white haik and burnous;
the other of Wangoni, stalwart, martial savages,
believers in nothing and clad in not much more.
These form camps apart, for at heart each section
despises the other, though for purposes of self-interest
temporarily welded. A few, but very few, are Arabs
of pure blood.
One of these is now engaged in converse with the
leader of the party. He is a tall, dignified, keen-faced
man, with eyes as piercing as those of a hawk, and
his speech is sparing. But if his words are few his
deeds are many, and the name of Lutali which, how-
ever, he makes no secret is not his real name is
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
known and feared at least as far and as thoroughly
as that of the chief of the slavers himself.
For the latter, one glance at him is sufficient to
show that if ever man was born to rule with firm but
judicious hand such a gang of bloodthirsty free-
booters it is this one. The vigour of his powerful
frame is apparent with every movement, and the
strength and fixity of will expressed in his keen dark
face there is no mistaking. But the black, piercing
eyes and bronzed features belong to no Arab, no half
caste. He is a white man, a European.
Stay! To be accurate, there is just a strain of Arab
in him; faint, indeed, as of several generations inter-
vening, yet real enough to qualify him for mysterious
rites of blood brotherhood with some of the most
powerful chiefs from Tanganyika to Khartoum. And
throughout the Congo territory, and many an equa-
torial tribe beyond, this man's name has been known
and feared. No leader of slave-hunters can come
near him for bold and wide-sweeping raids, the terror
and unexpectedness of which, together with the com-
plete and ruthless fixity of purpose wherewith the
objects of them, however strong, however alert, are
struck and promptly subjugated, have gained for him
among his followers and allies the sobriquet of El
Khanac, " The Strangler." But the reader together
with Johannesburg at large knows him under an-
other name, and that is " Pirate " Hazon.
" Is it prudent, think you, Lutali? " he is saying.
" Consider. These Wajalu are a trifle too near the
land of the Ba-gcatya. Indeed, we ourselves are too
near it now, and a day's journey or more in the same
156
THE MAN HUNTERS.
direction is it not to run our heads into the jaws of
the lion?"
" Allah is great, my brother," replies the Arab, with
a shrug of the shoulders. " But I would ask, what
have we, in our numbers and with arms such as these,"
gripping significantly his Express rifle, " to fear from
those devil-worshippers armed with spears and
shields yea, even the whole nation of them?"
" Yet I have seen an army of the nation of which
those ' devil-worshippers ' are sprung, armed only with
spears and shields, eat up a force three times as large
as our own and infinitely better armed, I being one
of the few who escaped. And ' The People of the
Spider ' cannot, from all accounts, be inferior to the
stock whence they came."
Lutali shrugs his shoulders again.
" It may be so," he says, " yet there is a large
village of these Wajalu which would prove an easy
capture and would complete the number we need."
" Then let us chance it," is Hazon's rejoinder.
The Arab makes a murmur of assent and stalks
away to his own people, while Hazon returns to where
he has left his white colleague.
" Well, Holmes, according to Lutali, they are bent
on risking it," he begins, throwing himself upon a rug
and proceeding to fill a pipe.
" Are they? I'm not altogether glad, yet if it tends
towards hurrying us out of this butchery line of busi-
ness I'm not altogether sorry. I think I hate it more
and more every day."
" It isn't a bad line of business, Holmes," returns
Hazon, completely ignoring the smothered reproach-
is?
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
fulness, resentment even, underlying the tone and
reply. " Come, now, you've made a goodish bit of
money the short time you have been at it. Anyhow,
I want to know in what other you would have made
anything like as much in the time. Not in fooling
with those rotten swindling stocks at the Rand, for
instance? "
" Maybe not. But we haven't realized yet. In
other words, we are not safe out of the wood yet,
Hazon, and so it's too soon to hulloa. I don't believe
we are going to get off so easily," he adds.
" Are you going to get on your croaking horse
again, and threaten us with ' judgments ' and ' curses/
and all that sort of thing? " rejoins the other, with a
good-humoured laugh. " Why, man, we are philan-
thropists real philanthropists. And I never heard
of ' judgments ' and ' curses ' being showered upon
such."
" Philanthropists, are we? That's a good idea.
But where, by the way, does the philanthropy come
in?"
" Why, just here." Then, impressively, " Listen,
now, Holmes. Carry your mind back to all the
sights you have seen since we came up the Lualaba
until now. Have you forgotten that round dozen of
niggers we happened on, buried in the ground up to
their necks, and when we had dug up one fellow we
found we had taken a lot of trouble for nothing be-
cause he'd got his arms and legs broken. The same
held good of all the others, except that some were
mutilated as well. You remember how sick it made
you coming upon those heads in the half darkness; or
158
THE MAN HUNTERS.
those quarters of a human body swinging from
branches, to which their owner had been spliced so
that, in springing back, the boughs should drag him
asunder, as in fact they did? Or the sight of people
feeding on the flesh of their own blood relations, and
many and many another spectacle no more amusing?
Well, then, these barbarities were practised by no
wicked slave-raiders, mind, but by the ' quiet, harm-
less ' people upon each other. And they are of every-
day occurrence. Well, then, in capturing these gentle
souls, and deporting them for a price whither they
will perforce be taught better manners, we are acting
the part of real philanthropists. Do you catch on? "
" What of those we kill? Those Wangoni brutes
are never happy unless killing."
" That is inevitable and is the law of life, which is
always hard. And, as Lutali would say, who may
fight against his destiny? Not that I mean to say
we embarked in this business from motives of philan-
thropy, friend Holmes; I only cite the argument as
one to quiet that singularly inconvenient conscience
of yours. We did so, Stanninghame and I, at any
rate, to make money quickly, and plenty of it; and
I'm not sure Stanninghame doesn't need it more than
you and I put together."
" By-the-by, I wonder what on earth has become
of Stanninghame all this time? " said Holmes, ap-
parently glad to quit an unprofitable subject.
" So do I. He ought to have joined us by now.
He is just a trifle foolhardy, is Stanninghame, in
knocking about so far afield alone," and a shade of
anxiety steals over the speaker's face.
159
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Holmes makes no reply, and for a while lies back
on his rug, puffing away at his pipe and busy with
his thoughts. These are not altogether pleasant.
The process which had transformed the fine, open-
natured, wholesome-hearted young Englishman into
a slave-hunter, the confederate of ruthless cut-throats
and desperadoes, had, in truth, been such as to en-
gender the reverse of pleasant thoughts. Yet, that he
had come to this was rather the fault of circumstances
than the fault of Holmes. He had enjoyed the big
game shooting and the ivory trading of the earlier
stage of the trip, the more so from the consciousness
that there was profit in both; and when a large cara-
van of the above and other legitimate merchandise
had been run down to the coast, he had steadfastly
refused to take the opportunity of parting company
with the others. Then when they had pushed farther
into the equatorial regions, and, joining with Lutali,
had embarked on their present enterprise, all oppor-
tunity of withdrawing had gone. The precise point
at which he had cast in his lot with this, Holmes could
not with certainty define. Yet there were times when
he thought he could. He had relieved his conscience
with indignant, passionate protest, when first his eyes
became fairly opened to the real nature of the enter-
prise; and then had supervened that terrible bout of
malarial fever, his tardy recovery from which he owed
entirely to the care and nursing of both Hazon and
Stanninghame. But it left him for a long time weak-
ened in mind and will no less than in body, and what
could he do but succumb to the inevitable? Yet he
had never entered into the sinister undertaking with
160
THE MAN HUNTERS.
the whole-heartedness of his two conscienceless con-
federates, and of this the latter were aware.
However, of his scruples they were tolerant
enough. He was brimful of pluck, and seemed to
enjoy the situation when they were attacked by over-
whelming odds and had to fight hard and fiercely,
such as befell more than once. And they would insidi-
ously lay salve to his misgivings by such arguments
as we have just heard Hazon adduce, or by reminding
him of the fortune they were making, or even of the
physical advantage he was deriving from the trip.
The latter, indeed, was a fact. The life in the open,
the varying climates, frequent and inevitable hardships
and never-absent peril, had made their mark upon
Holmes. Once recovered from his attack, he began
to put on flesh and muscle, and his eyes were clear
and bright with that keen alertness which is the result
of peril as a constant companion. In short, as they
said, he looked twice the man he had done when
lounging around the Stock Exchange or the liquor
bars of Johannesburg.
Through the hot hours of noontide the raiders lie
at their ease. Many are asleep, others conversing in
drowsy tones, smoking or chewing tobacco. The
Wangoni divide their time about equally between tak-
ing snuff and jeering at and teasing the unfortunate
captives. These, crouching on the ground, relieved
during the halt of their heavy forked yokes, endure
it all with the stoicism of the most practical phase of
humanity the savage. No good is to be got out of
bewailing their lot, therefore they do not bewail it;
161
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
moreover, belonging to a savage race, and far from
the highest type of the same, they have no thought of
the future, and are thus spared the discomfort and
anxiety of speculating as to what it may contain for
xthem. Indeed, their chief anxiety at this moment is
that of food, of which they would fain have more, and
gaze with wistful eyes upon their captors, who are
feasting on the remnant of what was until lately their
own property. But the latter jeeringly suggest to
them the expediency of their devouring each other,
since they seem to have a preference for such diet.
Then, as the sun's rays abate somewhat in fierce-
ness, the temporary camp is struck. Bearers take up
their loads, fighters look to their arms, the soiled and
gaudy finery of the semi-civilized sons of the Prophet
contrasting with the shining skins of the naked Wan-
goni, even as the Winchester and Snider rifles and
great sheath-knives and revolvers of the first do with
the broad spears and tufted hide shields of the latter.
And with the files of dejected-looking slaves, yoked
together in their heavy wooden forks, or chained only,
the whole caravan, numbering now some six hundred
souls, moves onward.
But in the mind of the principal of the two white
leaders, as he traces a cipher on the scene of their
recent halt, and in that of the other, who watches him,
is present, now with deepening anxiety, the same
thought, the same speculation: What has become of
the third?
162
CHAPTER XIV.
A DREAM.
UNDER the shade of a large tree-fern a man is lying
asleep.
Around the wilderness spreads in rolling undula-
tion, open here for the most part, though dotted with
clumps of bush and trees, which seem to have become
detached from the dark line of forest. This, on the
one hand, stretches away into endless blue; on the
other a broad expanse of water apparently a fine
river, actually a chain of lagoons with reed-fringed
banks; and here and there a low spit, where red
flamingoes roost lazily on one leg. Beyond this again
lies an unbroken line of forest.
The man is arrayed in the simple costume of the
wilderness a calico shirt, and moleskin trousers pro-
tected by leather leggings. A broad-brimmed hat
lies under his head, to which, indeed, it serves as sole
pillow. He is heavily armed* The right hand still
grips an Express rifle in mute suggestion of one
accustomed to slumber in the midst of peril. A
revolver in a holster rests beside him, and in his
leathern belt is a strong sheath knife. Now and
again he moves in his sleep, and at such times his
unarmed hand seems instinctively to seek out some-
thing which is concealed from view, possibly some-
163
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
thing which is suspended round his neck by that light
but strong chain. Thus hour after hour rolls over
him, as he slumbers on in the burning equatorial heat.
The sleeper turns again uneasily, and as he does
so his hand again seeks the steel chain just visible
through his open shirt, and, instinctively working
down it, closes over that which is secured thereto;
then, as though the effect is lulling, once more he is
still again, slumbering easily, peacefully.
The sun's rays, slanting now, dart in beneath the
scanty shade of the tree-fern, and as they burn upon
the dark face, bronzed and hardened by climate and
toil, the sleeper's lips are moving, and a peculiarly
soft and wistful expression seems to rest upon the
firm features. Then his eyes open wide. For a mo-
ment he lies, staring up at the green fronds which
afford shade no longer, then starts up into a sitting
posture. And simultaneous with the movement here
and there a faint circular ripple widens on the slimy
surface of the lagoon, as each of those dark specks,
representing the snout of a basking crocodile, vanishes.
Laurence Stanninghame's outward aspect has
undergone some change since last we beheld it, now
more than two years ago. The expression of the
dark, firm face, burned and bronzed by an equatorial
sun, heavily bearded too, has become hard and ruth-
less, and there is a quick alertness in the penetrating
glance of the clear eyes which tells of an ever-present
familiarity with peril. Even the movement of sitting
up, of suddenly awakening from sleep, yet being wide
awake in a moment, contains unconsciously more than
a suggestion of this.
164
A DREAM.
A rapid, careful look on all sides. Nothing is stir-
ring in the sultry, penetrating heat; the palmetto
thatch of clustering huts away beyond the opposite
bank might contain no life for all of it they show.
Hardly a bird twittering in the reeds but does so
half heartedly. The man's face softens again, taking
on the expression it wore while he slept.
While he slept! Why could he not have slept on
forever, he thought, his whole being athrill with the
memory revived by his dreams? For his dreams
had been sweet wildly, entrancingly sweet. Seldom,
indeed, were such vouchsafed to him; but when they
were their effect would last, would last vividly. He
would treasure up their recollection, would go back
upon it.
Now, slumbering there in the torrid heat, by the
reed-fringed, crocodile-haunted lagoon, his dreams
had wafted him into a more than Paradise. Eyes,
starry with a radiant love-light, had laughed into his;
around his neck the twining of arms, and the soft,
caressing touch of soothing hands upon his life-
weary head ; the whisper of love-tones, deep, burning,
tremulous, into his ear. And from this he had awak-
ened, had awakened to the reality to the weird and
depressing surroundings of human life in its most
cruel and debased form ; to the recollection of scenes
of recurring and hideous peril, of pitiless atrocity,
which seemed to render the burning, brassy glare
even as the glare of hell; and to the consciousness of
similar scenes now immediately impending. Yet the
remembrance of that sleeping vision shut him in, sur-
rounded him as with a very halo, sweet, fragrant,
165
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
enthralling, rolling around his soul as a cloud of in-
toxicating ether.
Upon a temperament such as that of Laurence
Stanninghame the life of the past two years was
bound to tell. The hot African glow, the adventurous
life, with peril continually for a fellow-traveller, a
familiarity with weird and shocking deeds, an utter
indifference to human suffering and human life, had
strangely affected his inner self. Callous to the woes
of others, yet high strung to a degree, his nature at
this time presented a stage of complexity which was
utterly baffling. That mesmeric property to which
Hazon had alluded more than once as one of the
effects of the interior was upon him too. It seemed
as though he had somehow passed into another world,
so dulled was all recollection of his former life, all
desire to recall it. Yet one memory remained un-
dimmed.
" Lilith, my soul! " he murmured, his eyes wander-
ing over the brassy, glaring expanse of water and
dried-up reed-bed, as though to annihilate space and
distance. " Lilith, my life! It is time I looked once
more upon that dear face which rendered my dreams
so sweet."
His hand, still clasping something within his breast,
was drawn forth, that which hung by the steel chain
still inclosed within it. A small, flat metal box it
was, oblong in shape, and shutting so tightly that at
first glance it was hard to see where it opened at all.
But open it did, for now he is holding what it con-
tains holding it lovingly, almost reverently, in the
palm of his hand. It is a little case, green velvet
166
A DREAM.
worked with flowers, and in the center, spreading
fantastically in spidery pattern in dark maroon, is a
monogram Lilith's. And in like manner is this
same monogram inlaid upon the lid.
Two tiny portraits it contains when opened
photographic portraits, small, yet clear and delicate
as miniatures. Lilith's eyes gaze forth, seeming to
shine from the inanimate cardboard as though with
the love-light of gladness; Lilith's beautiful form,
erect in characteristic attitude, the head slightly
thrown back, the sweet lips compressed, just a touch of
sadness in their serenity, as though dwelling upon the
recollection of that last parting; even the soft curling
waves of hair, rippling back from the temples, are life-
like in the clearness of the portrait.
The strong, sweet dream-wave still enclouding his
brain, Laurence stands gazing upon these, and his
heart is as though enwrapped with a dull tightening
pain.
"Sorceress! and does the spell still enthral me
here?" he murmurs, "here, and after all this time.
Have you forgotten me? Perhaps. No, that cannot
be and yet Time! Time dulls everything. Time
brings changes. Perhaps even the memory of me
is waning, is becoming dulled."
But the softening love-light in the pictured eyes
seems to contradict the conjecture. Here, in the hot
brassy glare of the far wilderness, in the haunts of
bloodshed and wrong, that sweet, pure image seems
clothed as with a divinity to his hungry gaze.
"Others can see you in life; others can hear the
music of your voice, my beloved; others can look
167
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
into the light of those eyes, can melt to the radiance
of your smile, while I only the image is mine, the
tiny oblong of hard inanimate cardboard," he mur-
murs, in a tone that is half weariful, half passionate.
" And now for the words! "
A slip of folded paper occupies the side of the little
tin box. This he extracts and unfolds with a touch
that is almost reverent, and, as his eyes wander over
the writing, his every faculty of soul and mind and
being is concentrated in rapt love upon each word.
For not every day will he suffer his eyes to rest upon
them, lest too great familiarity with them should dull
them with a mechanical nature when seen so often.
They are kept for rare occasions, and now, his waking
thoughts sweet with the influence of the recent dream,
he reckons just such an occasion.
The history of the box, the portraits, the letter, was
a strange one. After that last parting, as Laurence
was wending his way in the darkness, he became
aware that his breast pocket contained something
which was not there before. He drew it forth. It
was small, flat, hard, oblong. By the light of suc-
cessive vestas he proceeded to investigate, and there,
in the flickering glow, Lilith's sweet eyes gazed out
at him from the cardboard, daintily framed within the
work of her fingers, even as here in the burning glare
of the equatorial sun; and there, too, within the box,
lay a folded slip of paper covered with her hand-
writing her last words to him, drawing out, per-
petuating the echo of her last spoken ones. With
a thrill of love and pain, he had stood there in the
darkness until his last vesta had burned out, and then
168
A DREAM.
the letter was not half read, but from that moment the
box and its contents had rested upon his heart day
and night through scenes of blood and of woe,
through every conceivable phase of hardship and
starvation and peril had rested there as a charm, or
amulet, which should shield him from harm. And
as such, indeed, its donor had intended it.
And now his eyes, wandering over the paper, as
though devouring every word, are nearing the end:
" Does this come as a surprise, my darling a very
sweet surprise? [it ran.] I mean it to be that. ' Is
it for good or for ill, this love of ours? ' you have said.
Surely for good. Keep, then, this image of me, my
beloved. Never part with it, day or night, and may
it ever, by the very strength of my love for you, be
as a talisman a ' charm ' to stand between you and
all peril, as you say the mental image of me has
already done; how, I cannot see, but it is enough for
me that you say so. And the consciousness that I
should have been the means of averting evil from you
is sweet, unutterably so. May it continue, and
strengthen me as it will mysteriously shield, you,
while we are far apart. My Laurence! my ideal!
yes, you are that ; the very moment my eyes first met
the firm full gaze of yours I recognized it. I knew
what you were, and my heart went out to you."
The blood surged hotly, in a dark flush, beneath
Laurence Stanninghame's bronzed face, as he pic-
tured the full force and passion of those parting utter-
ances murmured into his ear instead of confided only
169
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
to cold, inanimate paper; then the demon of cynicism
ingrained within him came uppermost with hateful
and haunting suggestions:
" She is safe? Yes. But those words were penned
more than two years ago. More than two years ago !
That is a long time for one in the full glow of her
glorious youth. More than two years ago! And in
the joy and delight of living, what charm has the
memory the daily fading memory of the absent for
such as she? Think of it, oh, fool, not yet free from
the shackles of the last illusion! Think of circum-
stances, of surroundings, of temperament, above all,
of such a temperament as hers! Is your mature
knowledge of life to go for nothing that you are so
easily fooled? Ha, Ha! "
Thus laughed the demon voice in mocking gibe.
But he no, he would not listen; he would stifle it.
Those words were the outcome of one love the love
of a lifetime, and nothing less.
Suddenly, with multifold splash, and a great win-
nowing of wings, a flight of cranes and egrets arose
from the bank some little distance farther down.
Dark forms were moving among the reeds. All the
instincts of a constant familiarity with peril alert
within him, Laurence had in a moment replaced the
case and its contents. His Express was grasped in
readiness as he peered forth eagerly from his place
of concealment. He was the crafty, ruthless slaver
once more.
Then the expression, stealthy, resolute, which his
discovery had evoked, faded, giving way to one of
half-interested curiosity, as he saw that the potential
170
A DREAM.
enemies more or less redoubtable assailants were
merely a few small boys, wandering along the reed-
fringed bank, jabbering light-heartedly as they
strolled.
Suddenly there was a splash, a smothered cry, and
a loud burst of shrill laughter. The sooty imps were
dancing and capering with glee, gazing at and chaff-
ing one of their number who had fallen from the
bank high and perpendicular there into the water
among the reeds. But almost as suddenly the cachin-
nations turned to a sharp yell of terror and warning.
The reeds swayed in a quivering line of undulation,
as though something were moving through them
something swift and mighty and terrible and so it
was. The black boy, who could swim like a fish, had
thrown himself clear of the reeds, deeming his chances
better in the open water, but after him, its long grisly
snout and cruel beady eyes flush with the surface,
glided a large crocodile.
Half instinctively the unseen spectator put up his
piece, then dropped it again. He might shoot the
reptile, but what then? All their plans would be
upset the villages would be alarmed, and his own
life greatly jeopardized. Too steep a price by far to
pay, to save one wretched little black imp from being
devoured by a crocodile, he told himself. The road
to wealth did not lie that way; and the cruel sneer
that drooped his lips as he lowered his weapon was
not good to behold, as he stood up to witness the end
of this impromptu hunt, whose quarry was human.
The boys on the bank were shouting and scream-
ing, partly for help, partly in the hope of scaring
171
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
the hideous saurian. That wily reptile, however,
heeded them not one atom. His great jaws opened
and closed with a snap but not on the crunch of
human flesh, not on the crackle of human bones.
The wretched little native, with incredible dexterity,
had swerved and dived, just eluding the hungry jaws
by no more than a hair's breadth. But to what avail?
For the smooth surface of the lagoon was now rip-
pling into long furrow-like waves. Dark objects were
gliding through the water with noiseless rapidity,
converging on the point where the human quarry
had now risen to breathe. More of the dreadful
reptiles, with which the lagoons were swarming, had
found out there was prey, and were bearing down to
obtain their share. From his concealment, Laurence
could see it all the glistening of the hideous snouts,
the round woolly head and staring, terror-stricken
eyeballs of the miserable little "victim. Then, with a
wild, piercing, soul-curdling shriek, the latter disap-
peared, and there arose to the surface a boil of foam,
bubbling upon the slimy water in a bright red stain.
Below, in the depths, the crocodiles were rending
asunder their unexpected prey.
" The moral of that episode," said the concealed
spectator to himself, as he turned away, " is that little
boys should not play too near the bank. No, there
is yet another the incredibly short space of time in
which the refined and civilized being can turn into a
stony-hearted demon; and the causes which accom-
plish such transmogrification are twain the parting
with all his illusions, and the parting with all his
cash."
172
A DREAM.
These ruminations were cut short in a manner that
was violent, not to say alarming. Two spears whizzed
past him with a vicious, angry hiss, one burying itself
deep in the stem of the tree-fern just behind him, the
other flying into empty space, but grazing his ear by
very few inches indeed. Then, in the wild, barking,
hoarse-throated yell, blood-curdling in its note of hate
and fury, Laurence Stanninghame realized that he
was in a tight place a very tight place.
173
CHAPTER XV.
AN AWAKENING.
TEN or a dozen tall savages were advancing
through the somewhat sparse scrub. Yielding to a
first impulse of self-preservation, Laurence, quick as
thought, stepped behind the stem of the tree-fern.
Then he peered forth.
His first glance, keen and quick, took in every
detail. His assailants were fine warrior-like men,
ferocious looking, in great crested headgear of
plumes. Their bodies were adorned with cowhair
circlets, but, save for a short kilt of cat's-tails and hide,
they were quite unclad. They carried large shields of
the Zulu pattern, and a sheaf of gleaming spears
some light, others heavy and strong with the blade
like a cutlass.
Who, what could they be? he wondered. They
were too fine and stately of aspect with their lofty,
commanding brows, and clear, full glance to belong
to any of the tribes around. They were not Wangoni
they wore too striking a look to come of even that
fine race. Who could they be?
His conjectures on that head, rapid as they were,
ceased abruptly, for a perfect volley of spears came
whizzing about him, several burying their heads deep
within the stem of the tree-fern. Well indeed for
AN AWAKENING.
him that he had so rapidly placed even that slight
rampart between himself and his enemies.
Deeming parley better than fight, under the cir-
cumstances, Laurence began quickly upon them in a
mixture of Swahili and Zulu, declaring that he could
be no enemy to them or to their race. But a loud
mocking laugh drowned his words; and, seeing that
the savages had suddenly half crouched behind their
shields for a charge, his quick, resourceful brain
grasped the situation at once. A puff of smoke, a jet
of flame from behind the tree-fern. One of the war-
riors fell forward on his shield, beating the earth with
his great limbs in the throes of death.
They had hardly reckoned upon this. Crouching
low, now they glide away among the scrub, keeping
well within cover. But that solitary, determined man,
flattened there against the tree-fern, draws no hope
from this. Their manoeuvre is a simple one enough.
They are going to enfilade the position. Surrounded
on all sides, and by such foes as these, where will he
be? for he has no cover.
But in Laurence Stanninghame's stern eyes there
is a lurid battle-glow, a very demon light. His
enemies will have his life, but they will purchase it at
a long price. A dead silence now reigns, and through
it he can hear the stealthy rustle made by his foes in
their efforts to surround him. Were he in the com-
parative security of cover, or behind a rampart of
any sort, he might hope, by a superhuman effort of
quick firing, to hold them back. As it is, he dare not
move from behind his tree, suspecting an intention to
draw him thence.
175
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The sun flames blood-red upon the lagoon and
upon a flight of flamingoes winnowing above the
mirror-like surface, and, as though the situation were
not deadly and desperate enough, the shimmer of
light and water has, even in that brief glance, brought
a spot in front of his eyes, at the moment when, if
ever, his sight should be at its clearest and quickest.
The odds against him are indeed terrible. He can
hardly hope to come through; yet to his assailants
it well may prove the dearest victory they have ever
won.
A dark body, creeping among the scrub just a
glimpse and nothing more. His piece is at his shoul-
der, and the trigger is pressed. He has not missed
of that he is sure. But the echoes of his shot are
swallowed up, drowned in a hundred other echoes
reverberating upon the dim silence of the scrub.
Echoes? No. The screech and tear of missiles
very near to his own head, the smoke, the jets of
flame from half a hundred different points all this is
sufficient to show that these are no echoes. His own
people have come up. He is rescued, but only just
in the nick of time.
" Look out," he shouts in stentorian tones. " Don't
fire this way. Hazon Holmes, I'm here! Keep the
fools in hand. They are blazing at me."
But the crash of the volley drowns his voice, and
the scrub is alive with swarming natives armed with
firelocks of every description. Yet, above the volley
and the savage shouts, Laurence can hear the hoarse,
barking yell, can descry the forms of his late enemies
such as are left of them as they flee, leaping and
176
AN AWAKENING.
bounding, zigzagging with incredible velocity and
address, to avoid the hail of bullets which is poured
after them.
He can realize something more something which
sends through his whole being a cold shudder of dis-
may and despair. Not his own people are these
otherwise so opportune arrivals. Not his own people,
but the inhabitants of the villages his own people
are on their way to raid fierce and savage cannibals
by habit, but with physique which will furnish excel-
lent slaves. He has literally fallen from the frying-
pan into the fire.
How he curses his raw folly in making his presence
known! But for this he might have slipped away
unnoticed during the scrimmage. Now they come
crowding up, brandishing their weapons and yelling
hideously. Although inferior both in aspect and
stature to those they have just defeated, these bar-
barians are formidable enough; terror-striking their
wildly ferocious mien. Many of them, too, have filed
teeth, which imparts to their hideous countenances
the most fiend-like appearance.
Is it that in the apparently fearless attitude, the
stern, even commanding glance of this solitary white
man, there is something that overawes them? It may
be so, for they stop short in their hostile demonstra-
tions and commence a parley. Yet not altogether
does Laurence Stanninghame feel relieved, for a
sudden thought surges through his brain which causes
a shade of paleness to sweep over his firm, bronzed
countenance. What if this were but a scheme to get
him into their power? What if he were not suffered
177
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
to die fighting, to fall into their hands alive? Why,
then, his fate was certain certain and inexpressibly
horrible. He would be butchered like a calf butch-
ered and eaten by these repulsive wretches. Such
would be his end. Now, however, to make the best
of the situation!
But little can he make of their tongue. Then he
tries them in Swahili. Ah! several of them have a
smattering of that. They have come to his aid at a
critical moment, he puts it he is willing therefore to
call them friends. Yet it was a pity they had. He
had already killed two of his assailants and was pre-
pared to kill them all, one after another. It was only
a question of time. After all, if anything, the new
arrivals had rather spoiled his sport.
These stared. The tone was one of patronage, of
condescension. This white man was but one; he was
alone, and in their power, yet he spoke to them as a
great chief might speak. Yet, was he but one? Was
he alone or were many others not far off? Per-
ceptibly their own replies took on a respectful
air.
The while, Laurence kept every sense on the alert,
indeed even to its uttermost tension. Was this parley
designed to keep him preoccupied while others stole
up treacherously to strike him down from behind?
To guard against this idea he stepped boldly forth
from the tree-fern and advanced towards the half-
threatening crowd.
" Where are those we have slain? " he said. " Let
us examine them."
" Yonder," answered some in a wandering tone,
178
AN AWAKENING.
while others on the outskirts of the crowd scowled
and muttered.
Leisurely, and now moving actually among these
people, did Laurence fare forth to look upon the
bodies of his late assailants. The thoroughly bold
and fearless line he had adopted had told, as he was
all but sure it would. These wild barbarians, armed
to the teeth, had only to stretch forth a hand and slay
him, yet somehow they refrained.
The slain warriors were lying as they fell, and even
in death Laurence could not but admire their noble
proportions, and the set and martial expression of
their countenances. Six lay dead, while another,
sorely wounded, was promptly beheaded by the new
arrivals. These, their savage instincts all afire, set to
work to hack the heads off each corpse; then, tying
grass ropes around the ankles, the trunks were
dragged away to the village.
To the latter now they invited Laurence. To hesi-
tate might be an act of weakness sufficient to cause
his slaughter. To acquiesce, on the other hand, was
it not an act of unexampled foolhardiness thus to
place himself more absolutely within the power of
these savage cannibals? His policy of boldness had
availed so far; it would not do to break down at the
last moment. So he accepted without a shade of
hesitation.
"How is your tribe named?" he asked, as they
proceeded along.
" Wajalu," replied the man who had done chief
spokesman, rather a good-looking native, with almost
a Zulu cast of countenance.
179
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" And the head man of yonder village, who is he? "
" I am he. I Mgara," was the reply, with a
satisfied smile.
"And those we have slain, they seemed fine
fighters. Of what race were they? "
" Ba-gcatya."
Laurence looked grave, but said nothing. Strange
rumours, mysterious and vague, had reached him
already rumours relating to an immensely powerful
tribe inhabiting the dark and unexplored country
away to the north, whose raids were extending more
and more, whose wrath fell alike upon all upon
Arab slave-hunter and the prey sought by the latter
a Zulu-speaking tribe said to have taken its origin in
some hardly recorded exodus in the days of Tshaka
Zulu alike in its habits and customs, and in the
despotism of its ruler. This nation was known as the
Abagcatya or Ba-gcatya, " The People of the Spider."
Hazon, too, believed in its existence, and Hazon was
a first-class authority on such subjects. And now
the warriors who had attacked him, and upon whom
the tables were so strangely turned, were Zulu in
aspect, and bore Zulu shields. The thing began to
look serious. What if that handful of warriors was
the outpost of a huge impi? Would not the ven-
geance of the latter be fearful and complete?
And, indeed, time was when Laurence Stanning-
hame's blood would have boiled with rage and dis-
gust at the indignities offered to the remains of these
noble-looking warriors. The trunks dragged along
by the heels seemed nothing now but a bleeding mass.
The heads, too, stuck upon spear points, were borne
1 80
AN AWAKENING.
aloft above the rabble. To them were all sorts of
mockeries addressed.
Now, however, it was different. The hardening
process had been, if anything, all too complete. A
man had his hands full even if occupied solely in tak-
ing care of himself this had become the sum total
of his creed.
As they drew near the village, the Wajalu set up
the most hideously discordant war-song he had ever
heard in his life. They were met in the gate by a
crowd of women howling and blowing horns, and
otherwise adding to the horrific tumult. These, on
beholding the stranger, imagined him a prisoner, and
began clamouring for his death, pointing to the blood-
stained place of slaughter where such were wont to be
immolated.
And then once more, hearing the shout of de-
moniacal laughter which arose from some of the
fighting men, noting a ferociously sardonic grin upon
not a few faces, Laurence felt his former misgivings
all return. Accustomed as he was to perilous situa-
tions, to horrifying sights, the strain upon his nerves
was becoming painfully intense. Fortunate, indeed,
for him that those nerves were now hardened to the
cold consistency of cast steel by almost daily trial.
" Men of the Wajalu," he began, in a decisive, com-
manding voice, " well is it for all here that I am
among you this day as a friend and guest, for, but for
that, this village was doomed. You know not who I
am, but you shall know in time. Then you will know
that but for my presence here to-day the spear and
the slave-yoke would have been your portion, that
181
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
of your village the flames. Now I give you your
lives."
The words, hurriedly rendered to those who could
not understand by those who could, perhaps more
the haughty indifference of his tone, his bearing, his
appearance in general, hard and determined, over-
awed the crowd. No further voice was raised against
him. Their advances of hospitality became even
profuse.
He was shown to the best hut. But before he
entered it he could not avoid seeing the bodies of his
late assailants in process of dismemberment as though
they had been slaughtered cattle, and, inured as he
was to horrible and sickening sights, never had he
been conscious of so overpowering a feeling of repul-
sion as now. The cannibal atrocities of these human
beasts, the glowering heads stuck all over the
stockade, the latest addition thereto being those of
the slain Ba-gcatya, the all-pervading influence of
death brooding over this demoniacal haunt, even as
the ever-present circlings of carrion birds high in mid-
air all this weighed upon his mind until he could
have blown out his own brains for sheer horror and
loathing.
But upon this dark, enshrouding shadow, piercing,
partly dispelling it, came a ray of searching light
sweet, golden, penetrating. The vision of his mid-
day slumbers Lilith. But a few hours had gone By
since that dream, and within them he had fought
fiercely for his life; and now, in this hell-haunt, the
sweet entrancement of it came back to charm away,
182
AN AWAKENING.
as with a hallowed spell, the black horrors that hung
over his soul as though on vulture wing.
Presently Mgara entered, followed by people bear-
ing food cooked goat-flesh and millet and plantains.
From the smoking meat Laurence recoiled with a
loathing he could hardly repress. It was too suggest-
ive of the foul and fearful feast proceeding outside;
and even when the chief, with a furtive half-smile,
assured him he might safely partake of it, yet he could
not touch it, contenting himself with the other fare,
cereal and vegetable.
After some further talk Mgara withdrew, and Lau-
rence, left alone, gave his meditations the rein once
more. Never had he loathed the sinister occupation
upon which he was embarked as he did now, possibly
because the term of the undertaking was nearing its
end. " I predict you will come back with what you
want," Lilith had said, and her words had been fully
verified. He had gained riches even beyond his
wildest dreams, but how he had gained them traffick-
ing in human flesh and blood, yea, even human life
she should never know. It seemed to him as though
he were already returning with that which should
place all the world at his feet.
But for once he seemed to forget that he had not
yet returned not yet. And as the drums and yelling
of the barbarous orgy outside gradually sank into the
silence of night, even that, strange to say, failed to
remind him.
183
CHAPTER XVI.
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
NOT much sleep did Laurence get that night
such, indeed, as he obtained being of the " with one
eye open " order. Simple trust in anybody or any-
thing was not one of his failings, as we think we have
shown; wherefore having carefully scrutinized the
plastered walls of his rude quarters, he took the pre-
caution to secure the wicker door from the inside, and
lay down with his Express, so covering the same
that but the very slightest movement of the hand
would be needed on his part in order to rake from
stem to stern whosoever should be so ill-advised as
to essay a stealthy ingress.
Still more would he have applauded his own fore-
sight in taking these precautions could he have
known that a large portion of the night was spent by
his " entertainers " keenly debating the expediency
of treacherously putting him to death. Here, it was
urged, was an opportunity such as might never again
come their way. Here was one of the leaders of that
dreaded band of slave-hunters one whose very name
was a terror and a scourge. Here was this man
actually in their hands. It was in their power to slay
him without the smallest risk to themselves. Let
them not miss such an opportunity of setting up his
head above their gates. As for his party, now that
184
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
its existence was known, they could surprise it, and
slaughter every man it contained. They, the Wajalu,
were numerous, and had good fire-weapons, and knew
how to use them. Why should they not rid the land
of this terror? It was in their power to do so.
This sounded all very plausible; many tales do,
until their other side is told. And the other side was
unfolded by the head man, Mgara, and others, much
to this effect: The slave-hunters were more numer-
ous than many there imagined. They had been re-
inforced by a large body of Wangoni fierce and
formidable fighters. To surprise and overwhelm such
a force would be impossible, and in the event of failure
what would their own fate be? Moreover, it was cer-
tain that the slavers were much better armed than the
Wajalu. Their best policy would be to treat the man
well; he had already given what was as good as an
assurance of his protection. These counsels pre-
vailed.
And soon the wisdom thereof was made manifest,
for with earliest dawn one of their scouts came run-
ning in with the news that the slave-hunters were
approaching; that they were in great numbers, and
mostly armed with rifles; that it was too late for re-
treat, in that a large detachment had already gained
a position which was practically such as to surround
the village.
The effect of this news was to stamp with an expres-
sion of the most terror-stricken despair the counte-
nance of every man who heard it. But Mgara,
remembering the words of their white "guest,"
hurried to the hut where the latter was sleeping.
185
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Yet as the head man approached the door with a
quick deferential word of greeting, Laurence Stan-
ninghame was wide awake. The talk outside, the
rapid note of fear underlying the tone, had not escaped
him, and even though he understood not a word of
their talk among themselves he knew what these
-people wanted of him. And the situation looked
serious, for he felt far less confident of his ability to
redeem his half-implied pledge than when, moved by
the first instincts of self-preservation, he had given
the same.
Well, and what then? The extinction of this horde
of cannibal barbarians was a mere trifle, a drop in the
bucket, when looked at beside other dark and ruthless
deeds which he had witnessed, and even actually
aided in. But hard, pitiless, utterly impervious to
human suffering as he had become, there was one
point in Laurence Stanninghame's character a weak
point, he regarded it which he had never succeeded
in eradicating. He could not forget or ignore a good
turn. These people, monstrous, repulsive as they
were in his sight, had saved his life twice indeed
the first time unconsciously from the Ba-gcatya, the
second time from themselves. They might have slain
him barbarously at almost any moment he was but
one among a number; yet they had not, but instead
had treated him hospitably and well. He was re-
solved, at any risk, to save them.
Mgara, entering, lost no time in making known
his errand.
" O stranger guest, whom we have treated as a
friend," he began, " save us from the slave-yoke, and
j86
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
the guns and spears of your people, for they are upon
us already.' 5 And rapidly he narrated the tidings
brought in by the scouts.
" I will do what I can, Mgara," answered Laurence.
" Listen. All your people must retire within the
huts; not one must be seen. Further, two of your
men must bear a token from me to El Khanac, my
brother-chief, who leads yonder host, and that at
once. Now, call those two men."
Swift of resource, Laurence picked up a flat piece
of wood and, scraping it smooth with his knife, wrote
upon it in pencil:
" / owe these people my life. Keep ours in hand until
ive meet"
"These are the messengers, Mgara?" he went on,
as the head man returned accompanied by two men.
" Are they reliable, and above all, fearless? "
" They are both, Sidi," answered the chief, now very
deferential. " One is my son, the other my brother's
son."
" Good. Let them now get a piece of white flaxen
cloth, and bind it and this token to a staff. Then let
them seek out El Khanac yonder."
In a moment this was done, and, bearing the im-
promptu white flag and the writing on the board, the
two young men started off into the scrub.
" Retire now into your houses, Mgara, you and all
your people. I alone will stand within the gate, and
maybe it will be well with you."
The Wajalu, who had been hanging on every word,
now hastened to obey; nevertheless there was terror
and dejection in every face. And their thoughts were
187
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
much the same as those of their would-be deliverer.
Had he the power to make good his word?
The hot morning hours dragged slowly by, and still
no sign of attack. The village was a deserted place,
in its brooding, death-like silence, so still, so complete
as to render distinctly audible the sweep of the wings
of carrion birds circling aloft. The severed heads
grinned hideously from the stockade, and the un-
earthly molten stillness of the silent noon was such as
to get upon the nerves of the ordinary watcher. But
he who now stood there had no nerves not in a
matter of this kind. His experiences had been such
as to kill and crush them out of all being.
Ha! What was this? The crows and vultures,
which, emboldened by the deathly silence, had been
circling nearer and nearer to the tree tops, suddenly
and with one accord shot upward, now seeming mere
specks in the blue ether. Then the silence was broken
in appalling fashion. Rending the air in a terrific note
of savagery and blood-thirst, there burst forth the
harsh, hissing war-yell of the Wangoni.
It came from the forest edge on the farther side of
the village. Laurence realized, with vexation and
concern, that his merciful plan would be extremely
difficult to carry out. That these ferocious auxilaries
should be allowed to initiate the attack he had not
reckoned upon; and now to restrain them would be
a herculean task.
"Back, back!" he shouted, meeting the crowd of
charging savages who, shield and spear uplifted, were
bearing down in full career upon the village.
In the headlong, exciting moment of their charge
188
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
they hardly recognized him. Laurence Stanning-
hame's life hung upon a hair. Then, with a great
burst of laughter, mocking, half defiant, they surged
past him. They " saw red," and no power on earth
seemed able to stop those human wolves now rushing
upon their helpless prey.
"Back, back!" thundered Laurence again. "The
village is dead, I tell you. It is the abode of death! "
This told. Barbarians have a shrinking horror of
infectious disease. Thoughts of smallpox, cholera,
what not, arose in the minds of these. No other con-
sideration on earth could have restrained that charge,
yet this one did. They stopped short.
" Lo! the stillness, the silence," went on Laurence,
pointing to the lifeless village. " Would you, too,
travel the voiceless and weaponless path of death? "
But mutterings both loud and deep went through
the Wangoni ranks. What was this? They had
been ordered to charge been signalled to charge,
and now they were forbidden to enter the village.
"El Afa" (the serpent) had been absent from the expe-
dition, and now turned up here, alone. Savages are
ever suspicious, and these were no exception to the
rule of their kind.
" Whau, what does it mean?" half sneered their
leader, scowling resentfully upon Laurence as the
warriors crowded around, growling like a pack of
baffled wolves. " Had we not better send some in to
see if these dogs are indeed all dead? "
" Not so, Mashumbwe," was the unconcerned reply.
" Tarry until the others arrive, then will we act
together."
189
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
But a furious clamour arose at the words. The
Wangoni did not entirely believe the explanation;
and to further their doubts there now arose from the
inside of the huts the puling wail of infants which the
mothers had not been entirely able to stifle.
"Au, we will add those to the death number, at
least," said the chief, giving the signal to his followers
to advance.
"Not so!" said Laurence decisively. "Hearken,
Mashumbwe, you are chief of your own people, but
I am chief of all of all! Not a man stirs until El
Khanac comes up. Not a man, do you hear? "
Mashumbwe tossed back his ringed head, and his
eyes glared. He was a tall, fine savage, with all the
pride of mien inseparable from his rank and Zulu
blood. Thus they stood, the savage and the white
man, looking into each other's eyes; the one in a
blaze of haughty anger, the other cool, resolute, and
absolutely unflinching. How it would end Heaven
alone knew.
But now the very thing that Laurence had been
longing for happened. A hurried murmur ran
through the Wangoni lines. The main body of the
slave-hunters had emerged from the scrub, and had
quietly surrounded the village. Laurence was satis-
fied. He had gained time so far, and with it his
object.
" What astonishing freak is this, Stanninghame? "
said Hazon, who, having taken in the situation at a
glance, was promptly at his colleague's side, display-
ing, too, the piece of pencilled board. " What be-
comes of our pact when such a consideration as this
190
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
comes in?" he continued, meaningly tapping the
inscription on the board. " Have we obtained all
we wanted on those terms up till now, or not? "
" No, we haven't; but now, having obtained almost
all we wanted, we can afford to do this for once. If
it had been your life instead of mine these people had
saved twice, Hazon, I would willingly have spared
theirs; now will you do less for me?"
" But it will breed a mutiny among our people,"
said Hazon doubtfully, with a half glance at the crowd
of scowling Wangoni.
" Oh, a mutiny! By all means. We shall know
how to deal with that, as we did before."
It seemed as though such knowledge were about
to be called into requisition, for the announcement
that all this " property " was to be relinquished abso-
lutely was received by the more important section of
the slave-hunters with a sullen silence more eloquent
even that the wolfish growls of the Wangoni. The
latter's disappointment lay in the fact that they were
balked in giving vent to their instincts of sheer sav-
agery the delight of plunder and massacre. That
of the former, however, was a more weighty factor to
reckon with; for the smatter of civilization in the
Arab and Swahili element had brought with it the
commercial instinct of cupidity. It speaks volumes,
therefore, for the ascendency which these two resolute
white men had set up over their wild and lawless fol-
lowing, that the latter should have contented itself
with mere sullen obedience.
Having gained his point Laurence returned within
the village, and, calling Mgara, suggested that some
191
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
of the people should carry forth food to their unwel-
come visitors.
" I fear it may leave scarcity in your midst," he
added; "but well-fed men are in better mood than
hungry ones, Mgara, and are you not spared the
slave-yoke and the spear? "
The head man, with many deferential expressions
of gratitude, agreed, and soon a file of women and
boys were told off, bringing goats and millet and rice
for the slave-hunters. As they passed tremblingly
among the ranks of the Wangoni the latter handled
their great spears meaningly, and with much the
same expression of countenance as a cat might wear
when contemplating an inaccessible bird cage.
" Ho, dog! " cried Mashumbwe, as a youth passed
before him without making obeisance. " Do you dare
stand before me before me! thou spawn of these
man-eating jackals? Lo! lie prostrate forever."
And with the words he half threw, half thrust his
great spear into the unfortunate lad's body. The
blood spurted forth in a great jet, and, staggering, the
boy fell.
" Au! And am I to be defiled with the blood of
such as this," growled the chief, upon whom several
red drops had squirted. " Let that carrion be re-
moved."
Several of the Wangoni sprang forward, and, as the
quivering body was dragged away, these savages gave
vent to their pent-up ferocity by stabbing it again and
again. Having tasted blood they rolled their eyes
around in search of further victims. But the remain-
ing Wajalu had withdrawn in terror: and well for all
192
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
concerned that it was so, otherwise the Wangoni,
inspired by the example of their chief, would certainly
have commenced a massacre which even the prestige
and authority of Hazon and Laurence combined
would have been powerless to quell. But there was
no one outside to begin upon, and, though a trucu-
lent, unruly crowd, their interests in the long run lay
in submitting to the authority of the white chiefs.
So the Wajalu rejoiced much, if tremblingly, as the
last of the dreaded host disappeared. For good or
for ill their village was spared spared to continue
its most revolting forms of savagery and cannibalism
and parricide spared for good or for ill in that it had
entertained an angel unawares in the person of that
hard, pitiless, determined slave-hunter, Laurence
Stanninghame.
193
CHAPTER XVII.
DISSENSIONS.
" WELL, I'm uncommonly glad I was out of that
affair yesterday, Stanninghame. But it isn't like you,
letting those poor devils off, eh? "
Thus Holmes, as the two were leisurely pursuing
their way, somewhat on the rear flank of the slave-
party.
" I don't know. You see they let me off, and I
didn't want to be outdone in civility even by a lot of
scurvy dogs who eat each other. There was no feel-
ing about the matter."
Before the other could pursue the subject, the
sound of faint groans, and pleading in an unknown
tongue, was heard just ahead. With it, too, the
sound of blows.
" Some devilish work going forward again,"
muttered Holmes, with savage disgust.
" You can't make omelettes without breaking eggs,"
was the indifferent reply. And then they came upon
a not entirely unfamiliar scene.
On the ground crouched three human figures,
wretched-looking and emaciated to the last degree.
Disease and exhaustion had overpowered them, and
they were begging to be left to die. Standing over
them in threatening attitude was Lutali, with some
half-dozen of the slavers.
194
DISSENSIONS.
" They are too far gone to feel the whip," Lutali
was saying. " Clearly they are of no further use.
You, Murad, shorten me the shadow of yonder dog.
We shall see."
The man named, a savage-looking ruffian, stepped
forward, grinning with delight. Just as he was swing-
ing up his scimitar, Holmes burst forth :
" Hold on, Lutali ! Give the poor devil another
show."
Half turning his head at this interruption, there
was that look upon the hawk-like features of the Arab
which at times so strangely resembled Hazon. His
keen eyes darted haughty reproof at Holmes, for he
was a sort of supercargo of the slave department, and
relished not this interference. Then, turning back,
he once more gave the signal. Down flashed the
great blade. There was a dull swooshing thud, and
the headless trunk was deluging the earth.
The effect, however, upon the other two exhausted
wretches was magical. With a despairing effort they
raised themselves up and staggered on, to the accom-
paniment of not a few blows by way of recognition of
their malingering. Lutali, who had uttered no word,
and whose impassive countenance had not moved a
feature, stalked gravely on.
" Why could we not have prevented this? " burst
forth Holmes, whom a sort of morbid fascination
seemed to root to the spot.
" Because it would have been the very acme of
insanity to attempt such a thing. Lutali, in common
with the rest, is in far too ugly a mood, after yester-
day, to be fooled with needlessly. Besides, all that
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
sentiment is simply thrown away. These people,
remember, are atrocious brutes, who eat their own
fathers and mothers. It is positively a work of
charity to enslave them. Once they are off the march
they are fairly well treated, better, in fact, that they
treat each other and, of course, no more canni-
balism."
" That may be. But I wish to Heaven I could blot
out these two years as though they had never been.
The recollection of the horrors one has been through
will haunt me for life. I feel like blowing my brains
out in sheer disgust. Why did I ever come? "
It was not the first time Holmes had burst forth in
this fashion, as we have shown. Laurence looked
keenly at him.
" There is a worse thing to haunt one's life than
recollection," he said, " and that is anticipation."
"Of what?" asked Holmes shortly.
The other touched the muzzle of his rifle, then his
own forehead.
" It's that or this," he said, pointing to the ghastly
trunk and the severed head which lay before them.
" You don't suppose I should have adopted this sweet
trade from choice, I suppose? No. Hard necessity,
my dear chap. If anybody has to go under and
somebody always has to I prefer that it shall not
be me."
Holmes made no reply for a while, so they left the
spot, walking in silence. Then Laurence went on:
" Now we are on the subject, I don't know that you
would have come out any the better had we left you
behind at Johannesburg. For you were going the
196
DISSENSIONS.
wrong way. You were a precious sight too fond of
hanging around bars, and that sort of thing grows.
In fact, you were more than once a trifle shall we
say ' muddled.' Not to put too fine a point upon it,
you were on your way to the deuce. I know it, for
I've seen it so often before, and you know it too."
" I believe you're right there," assented Holmes.
"Well, then, we owe our first duty to ourselves;
wherefore, my soft-hearted young friend, it is better
to spend a year or two raking in a fortune and ameli-
orating the lot of humanity, than to die in a state of
soak, and a disused shaft, on or around the Rand, even
as did Pulman the day before we left."
" I don't believe that same fortune will do us any
good/' urged Holmes gloomily. " There is the curse
of blood upon it."
u The curse of my grandmother," laughed the other.
There was no affectation about Laurence Stanning-
hame's indifference. It was perfectly genuine.
Strong-nerved constitutionally, callous, hard-hearted
through stress of circumstances, such sights as that
just witnessed told not one atom upon him. In the
sufferings of the miserable wretches he saw only a
lurid alternative his own. In them, toiling along,
wearily, dejectedly, beneath the chain or yoke, he saw
himself, toiling, grinding, at some sordid and utterly
repellent form of labour, for a miserable pittance; no
ray of light, no redeeming rest or enjoyment to
sweeten life until that life should end. In them, cower-
ing, writhing, beneath the driver's brutal lash, he saw
himself, ever lashed and stung by the torturing con-
sciousness of what might have been, by the recollec-
197
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
tion of what had been. Or did they fall exhausted,
fainting, to die, or to undergo decapitation to insure
that such exhaustion should not open even a feeble
possibility of escape, there too, he saw himself sink-
ing, borne down by the sheer blank hopelessness of
fate, taking refuge in the Dark Unknown, his end the
grave of the suicide. It was himself or them, and he
preferred that it should be them. Preyer or preyed
upon such was the iron immutable law of life, from
man in his highest development to the minutest of
insects; and with this law he w r as but complying, not
in wanton cruelty, but in cold, passive ruthlessness.
Further, the sufferings of these people were only
transitory. They would be much better off when
the journey was ended and they were disposed of
better off indeed than many a free person in civilized
and Christian lands. Besides, such races as these,
low down as they were in the scale of humanity,
suffered but little. It needs imagination, refinement,
to accentuate suffering. To anything approaching
such attributes, these were utter strangers. They
were mere animals. Men dealt in sheep and cattle,
in order to live, in horses and other beasts of burden,
why not in these, who were even lower than the
higher animals?
This theory of their sinister occupation Hazon
thoroughly indorsed.
" Depend upon it, Stanninghame," he said, " ours
is the right view to take of it the only view. This
is ' a world of plunder and prey/ as Tennyson puts
it, and we have got to prey or be preyed upon. You,
for instance, seem to have fulfilled the latter role,
198
DISSENSIONS.
hitherto, and it seems only right you should have
your turn now. To cite the latest instance, all this
rotten scrip and market-rigging finished you off, and
what was that but rascality? "
" Of course, I've been plundered, swindled, all
along the line, ever since I can remember. I'm tired
of that d d respectability, Hazon. It doesn't
pay. It never has paid. This, however, does."
The other smiled significantly at the word.
" Respectability yes," he said. " Look at your
type of success, your self-made man, swelling out of
his white waistcoat in snug self-complacency, your
pattern British merchant, your millionaire financier,
what is he but a slave-dealer, a slave-driver, a blood-
sucker. What has become of your little all, swamped
in those precious Rand companies, Stanninghame?
Gone to bloat more unimpeachable white waistcoats;
gone to add yet more pillars to the temple of pattern
respectability."
" That's so," assented Laurence, with something
between a sneer and a laugh, knocking the ashes out
of his pipe. " Yet that same crowd of respectable
swindlers would yelp in horror at us and our enter-
prise. ' Piratical,' they'd call it, eh? A hanging
matter! "
" Swindlers no. Swindler is English for a con-
victed person. Yet the percentage of the props and
pillars of financial success and mercantile respecta-
bility who, in the self-candour and secrecy of their
sleepless hours, are honestly unable to recall to mind
one or more occasions when Portland, or Dartmoor,
or Simonstown, or the Kowie loomed more than near,
199
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
cannot be a vast one; which, for present purposes,
may be taken to mean that if you have got to make
money you must make it anyhow, or not at all
' anyhow ' covering such methods as are involved in
the conventional term ' rascality.' If you have got it
you can run as straight as you like. We haven't got
it at least not enough of it yet and so we are
making it, and, like the rest of the world, making
it anyhow. There's the whole case in a nutshell,
Stanninghame."
" Why, of course. But, if only we could bring
Holmes round to that pre-eminently sensible stand-
point! I never could have believed the fellow would
turn out such an ass. I am more than sorry, Hazon,
that I should have influenced you to bring him along."
" Oh, Holmes is young, and hardly knows the
meaning of the term ' hard experience,' as we know
it. Still, in his way, he's useful enough, and first-rate
in a fight; and when he comes to bank his share he'll
forget to feel over particular as to how he acquired it.
That's mere ordinary human nature, and Holmes is
far from being an abnormal unit."
" No, but he still affects a conscience. What if he
goes back and takes on that blue-eyed girl he was
smitten with, and, turning soft, incontinently gives
us away? "
" Are you on the croak, Stanninghame? That's
odd. Here, how's your pulse? Let's time it." And
Hazon reached out his hand.
"Well, yes; it is unusual. But it's d d hot,
and the steaminess of it depresses me at times," re-
turned Laurence, with a queer, reckless laugh.
200
DISSENSIONS.
" He won't give us away, never fear," said Hazon
carelessly. " He won't take on that girl, because
she'll have forgotten him long ago; that, too, being
ordinary human nature. And nobody ever did give
me away yet. I don't somehow think anybody is
ever likely to."
Both sides of this remark struck a chord within
Laurence's mind; the first, a jarring one, since it
voiced a misgiving which had at times assailed him-
self, specially at such periods of depression as this
under which he was now suffering. For the second,
the tone was characteristic of the speaker and the sub-
ject. It seemed to flash forth more than a menace,
in its stern, unrelenting ruthlessness of purpose, while
the words seemed to recall the warning so darkly let
fall by Rainsford and others regarding his present
confederate. " Other men have gone up country
with Hazon, but not one of them has ever returned."
To himself the words contained no menace. He
trusted Hazon, felt thoroughly able to take care of
himself, and, moreover, was as little likely to violate
the secrecy of their enterprise as Hazon himself. But
what of Holmes? With all his hard, callous un-
scrupulousness, Laurence had no desire that harm
should befall Holmes. In a measure, he felt respon-
sible for him.
" Don't you worry about Holmes," said Hazon, as
though reading his thoughts. " We can put him to
all the show part of the business, reserving the more
serious line for our own immediate supervision. And
the time may come when we can do very well with
Holmes, in short, when three white men may be better
201
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
than two. We are very near the Ba-gcatya country,
and an impi of them on the raid will give us as much
trouble as we can do with ; and I've seen signs of late
which seem to point that way."
" Isn't it a crowded-on business this Ba-gcatya
terror, eh? " said Laurence, lazily puffing out rings of
blue smoke, which hung upon the hot, still atmos-
phere as though they never meant to disperse. " I
expect their strength is as exaggerated as their dash.
Why, this part is not altogether unexplored, yet there
is no record of an exceptionally strong tribe here-
abouts."
Hazon smiled pityingly.
" That great god, the African explorer, don't know
everything," he said " no, not quite everything,
although he thinks he does. Anyway, he frequently
manages to get a pretty muddled-up idea of things
and places hereabout a muddle which the natives of
this land would rather thicken than dispel. For
instance, he will ask the name of a river or a moun-
tain, and when the other party to the talk repeats his
question, as natives invariably do to gain time for
answering, he takes this for the answer, and forthwith
the thing is dubbed by a word that simply means
' river ' or ' mountain/ in one or other of the hundred
and fifty tongues which prevail hereabout. No, the
existence of the Ba-gcatya is not chronicled, simply
because the explorer was fortunate enough not to fall
in with them. Had he done so, he would probably
never have returned to chronicle anything. But, get
one or two of our Wangoni to talk, and he may, or
may not, tell you something about them; for the Ba-
202
DISSENSIONS.
gcatya are, like the Wangoni themselves, a Zulu off-
shoot, only far more conservative in the old Zulu
traditions, and of purer blood. They are a much finer
race, indeed I believe them to be as powerful and well
disciplined as the Zulus themselves were under Cety-
wayo. I was all through the war of '79, you know,
and that pretty scar I carry about as an ornament
represents the expiring effort of an awful tough cus-
tomer, who had lost too much blood to be able to
strike altogether home. I call it my Isandhlwana
medal."
" That where you captured it, eh? " said Laurence,
with interest, for the story was new to him. He
remembered first noticing the great scar upon Hazon's
chest the day he visited him when ill in bed at Johan-
nesburg, but he had never asked its history ; indeed, it
was characteristic of the strange relations in which
these two men stood to each other that, notwith-
standing all this time of close comradeship, neither
should ever have asked the other any question of a
personal nature. Characteristic, too, was it of
Hazon's method that this piece of information should
have been vouchsafed as it was. Many an experience,
strange and startling, had he narrated from time to
time, but never for the sake of narrating it. If any-
thing occurred to bring it forth, out it would come,
carrying, perhaps, others in its train, but ever in due
sequence. Even Holmes, the impulsive, who, being
young, was the ' natural man ' of the trio, had long
since learned that to ask Hazon for a yarn was the
direct way not to get one out of him.
" Yes," went on Hazon, " that's where I captured it.
203
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER
" Speaking with some experience, Isandhlwana is the
toughest thing that has ever travelled my way, and I
don't hanker after any repetition of it with ' The
people of the Spider -' Why, what does this
mean?"
The words, quick, hurried, broke off. On the faces
of both men was a look of keen, anxious alertness.
For a wild and fierce clamour had suddenly arisen
and was drawing nearer and nearer, loud, swelling,
threatening.
204
CHAPTER XVIII.
TWO PERILS.
" JUST what I feared," said Hazon calmly, but with
ever so faint a glance at his confederate. " Our
people are in revolt."
Both men rose to their feet, but leisurely, and
turned to confront the approaching tumult. And
formidable enough this was. The Wangoni advanced
in a compact mass, beating their shields with their
spear-hafts, yelling in concert a shrill, harsh battle-
song, into which they had managed to import an
indescribable note of defiance, announcing their
intention of returning to " eat up " those they had so
weakly spared the previous day. On either side of
them came the Arab and Swahili element, in silence,
however, but a silence which was no less ominous
than their sullen and scowling looks, and the almost
significant gestures wherewith they handled their
rifles.
" What do they want, Lutali? " said Hazon, turning
to the Arab who, with Holmes, had just joined the
pair. But Lutali shrugged his shoulders, and his
hawk-like features scarce moved. Then he said:
" Who may think to strive against the hand of
Allah and that of his Prophet? Yon foul dogs, even
they so great is the mercy of Allah even they
might have been turned into good Moslemia, even
as other such have been before them. Yet we we
205
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
have left them to wallow in tt e mire of their cannibal
abominations. Our people are not satisfied, El
Khanac, and they fear that ill may come of it."
"A magnificent and comfortable hypocrisy that,"
said Laurence, in English. " Such combination of
soul-saving and slave-selling is unique." Then, in
Swahili, " But what do they want, Lutali? "
" They want to set right the error of yesterday."
" But the Wangoni don't care a grain of rice for
Allah and his Prophet," he went on. " Why, then,
are they dissatisfied? "
" They are instruments in the hands of those who
do. It is so written. Allah is great. Who may call
in question his decrees? " replied the Arab, in the
same level monotone. " Let the people do their will,
which is also the will of Allah."
During this conversation the whole party had
halted, and now stood in a great semicircle around
the white leaders. Then Mashumbwe spoke, and his
words, though fairly courteous, managed to cover an
extremely defiant tone.
" Our people are dissatisfied, father," he said, ad-
dressing Hazon. " They desire to return home."
"Wherefore?" asked Hazon shortly.
" Au! they came forth to ' eat up ' other tribes, not
to spare such. They are dissatisfied."
" They'd better have their own way," muttered
Hazon, in English. " You are sacrificing all we have
done and obtained this trip to an empty whim. How
does that pan out, Stanninghame? "
" I hate to go back on my word," was the reply ;
" still more to be bullied into it."
206
TWO PERILS.
"Well said!" declared Holmes warmly.
The insurgents, reading the expression upon the
countenances of these two, broke forth into tumult
once more. Groans and mutterings arose among the
Arab contingent, while the Wangoni uttered wild
laughing whoops of defiance. Nothing would be
easier than to slay the white leaders. A single volley
would lay them low. The position was critical, peril-
ous to a degree.
" We go, then," cried Mashumbwe, waving his
hand. " Fare ye well, El Khanac; Afa, fare ye well! "
But before his followers could form into marching
rank, several men rushed from the forest, with every
appearance of importance and alarm. Making
straight to where stood their white leaders, they be-
gan hurriedly to confer with the latter.
" Your discontent was needless," cried Hazon, after
a minute or two of such conference, turning to his
rebellious followers, the whole body of whom had now
paused to learn what tidings these had brought.
" Your discontent comes a day too late. Those whom
we spared have even now been eaten up, and their
village given over to the flames."
The short, sharp gasp of amazement which greeted
this announcement gave place to growls of renewed
discontent. Some rival band of slave-hunters had
fallen upon the village and taken that which they
themselves had so weakly left. Such was their first
thought.
" The Ba-gcatya have found them," continued
Hazon calmly.
If there had been marvel before in the ejaculation
207
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
now there was more. There was even a note of dis-
may. Forgetting their mutinous intentions now, all
crowded around their white leaders, eager to learn
full particulars. And in that moment Laurence, ever
observant, was not slow to perceive, both in the looks
and tones of the party, quite enough to confirm all
that Hazon had said as to the terror inspired by the
very name of the redoubtable Ba-gcatya. Even the
savage and truculent Wangoni seemed for the moment
overawed. It was striking, too, how, in the hour of
impending peril, all turned to the white leaders, whom
a moment before they had been entirely defying and
more than half threatening.
" The Ba-gcatya are in great force," went on
Hazon, as calmly as though he were merely announc-
ing the proximity of one more well-nigh defenceless
and slave-supplying village. " We shall have to fight,
and that hard, but not here. We must fight them in
the open."
A murmur of assent went up. Every head was
craned forward, eager to hear more. Briefly and con-
cisely Hazon set forth his commands.
Their then encampment was situate on the edge
of the forest belt. Beyond the latter the country
stretched away in vast, well-nigh treeless plains. Now
a peculiar feature of these plains was the frequent
recurrence of abrupt granite kopjes, at first glance not
unlike moorland tors. But more than one of them,
when arrived at, wore the aspect of a complete
Druidical ring a circle of stones crowning the rise,
with a slight depression of ground within the centre.
One of these Hazon, who had been over the ground
208
TWO PERILS.
before, resolved should serve them as a natural for-
tress, whence to resist the fierce and formidable foe
now advancing against them.
With surprising readiness the march began. Loads
were shouldered and slaves yoked together extra
firmly. Those who were too weak to keep up the
pace treble that of the normal one at which they
were hurried forward, were ruthlessly speared; but
whether they were slain by their captors or by the
pitiless Ba-gcatya mattered but little.
The kopje which Hazon had selected was situated
about four miles from the forest belt. No better
natural fortress could have been chosen; for it con-
sisted of a complete circle of low rocks, of about two
hundred yards' diameter, and commanded an open
sweep of at least a mile on every side. Laurence and
Holmes were loud in their admiration and interest.
"These are old craters, I reckon," said Hazon;
" not volcanic, but mud-springs. This plain, you
notice, is considerably below the level of the forest
country. Depend upon it, the thing was once a big
swamp, with great boiling, bubbling mud-holes."
No time was it, however, for speculations of a
scientific nature; and accordingly the leaders pro-
ceeded to dispose their lines of defence. This was
soon done, for the three white men and Lutali had
arranged all that during the march. The Wangoni
were of no great use, save in pursuit of a defeated
enemy. They could hardly have hit a haystack once
in six shots, nor did Hazon care to intrust with fire-
arms such a turbulent and unruly crew. But the
slavers were all fair marksmen some indeed, among
209
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
them Lutali, being not far short of dead shots. These
were disposed around the circle of rocks so as to form
a ring of fire; and the rocks themselves were height-
ened wherever necessary with some of the loads, or
with such piles of loose stones as could be collected
in time. The part allotted to the Wangoni was that
of a reserve force, in the event of the enemy carrying
any given point, and thus necessitating hand-to-hand
conflict. The slaves, firmly secured, were placed in
the center of the great circle.
Hardly were these dispositions complete than a cry
of astonishment, of warning arose. Far away over
the forest country, somewhat to the right and left of
the route the party had been pursuing, several columns
of smoke could be seen mounting to the heavens.
There were other villages, then, besides the one
spared, and now the Ba-gcatya, spreading over the
land in their immense might, were firing all such and
massacring the inhabitants. Many and various were
the comments which arose as the party gazed intently
upon the distant smoke columns.
" If only as a change from knocking on the head
these defenceless devils, it's quite a blessed relief to
have some real fighting/' quoth Holmes.
" You'll get plenty of that, Holmes, within the next
few hours," remarked Hazon dryly.
It was near midday, and the heat was torrid and
sweltering. The fierce vertical sun-rays seemed to
pour down upon their unshaded position as in streams
of molten fire. Even the quick, excited murmurs of
the men grew languid. And, having seen to all being
in complete readiness, as Laurence Stanninghame sat
210
TWO PERILS.
there at his post in the torrid heat, smoking the pipe
of meditation, did no thought of the home, such as it
was, but which he would probably never see again,
not rise up before him? If it did, it was only to con-
firm him in the conviction that the present position of
peril whose chances he, at any rate, was in no dis-
position to under-estimate was the preferable of the
two. Here freedom, activity, adventure ; there galling
bondage, stagnation, a ceasing to live. Yes, that time
indeed seemed very, very far away. He felt no
shadow of inclination towards a recurrence thereof.
Then, suddenly, with magical swiftness, the whole
party was astir, and it needed a sharp, hurried com-
mand or two from Hazon and Lutali to restrain some
from leaping on the rocks in order to obtain a better
view of what had caused the alarm.
Between the kopje and the forest belt the ground,
save for an occasional roll, was entirely visible. Now,
swarming out into the open, came masses of moving
figures fleeing figures. Hazon and Laurence, who
each possessed a powerful glass, were able to master
the situation in a twinkling.
Close on the rear of the fugitives pressed another
multitude, to the naked eye like myriad ants upon
the far plain, but to those who scanned them through
the powerful glasses all detail was vividly distinct
the lines and lines of tufted shields, the gleam of spear
blades, the streaming feather and cow-hair adorn-
ments.
And now the hum and roar of the wild onslaught
and pursuit grows momentarily louder, drawing
nearer and nearer. A great cloud of dust is whirling
211
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
onward, and athwart it the gleam of steel, rising
and falling, the distant death-scream, as the miserable
fugitives fall ripped, hacked to fragments by their
ferocious pursuers. And still the terrible wave
pours on.
" This is going to be a hard business," muttered
Laurence between his set teeth. " How many do you
size them up at, Hazon? "
" Twenty thousand, rather more than less. That's
just how Cetywayo's people came on at Isandhlwana,
only there they took us more by surprise. Well, we're
not a lot of soldiers here anyway to scatter all over
the veldt. If they take this position they'll have to
rush it, and rush it hard. Well, do you believe in the
Ba-gcatya now, Stanninghame? "
Save a nod the other makes no answer, and now
the attention of both men is upon the scene before
them.
Some few of the fugitives, in the desperation of
their terror, are gradually outstripping their pursuers.
Against these whole flights of casting spears are
launched, amid roaring shouts of bass laughter.
Finally the last one falls.
And now the array of the enemy is but half a mile
distant from the slaver's position. Far over the plain,
in immense crescent formation, the barbarian host
sweeps on, now in dead silence, not hesitating a
moment, for the spoor left by the slavers is broad and
easy. Now it can be seen that these warriors are of
splendid physique. Most of them are nearly naked
save for their flowing war-adornments of hair or
jackal-tails. Many are crowned with towering ostrich
213
TWO PERILS.
plumes, both black and white; others wear balls of
feathers surmounted by the scarlet tuft of the egret;
some, again, have round their heads bands of the hide
of the spotted cat; but all flaunt some wild and fan-
tastic adornment. And the great hide shields, with
their party-coloured facings and tufted tops, are Zulu
shields, and the broad stabbing spear is the Zulu
wnkonto, or assegai.
There is a lurid fascination in gazing upon the awful
splendour of this fierce and formidable battle-rank,
which set even Laurence Stanninghame's schooled
nerves tingling. As for Holmes, he could hardly
remain still in his excitement. But in Hazon's pierc-
ing eyes there was a glow in which the lust of combat,
despair of success, and the most indomitable resolve
were about equally intermingled. The countenance
of Lutali betrayed no change whatever. The bulk of
the slave-hunters were scowling and eager; but the
miserable slaves, realizing that massacre awaited them,
were moaning and trembling with fear. Under the
slave-yoke they held their lives, at arty rate, but
should the enemy without win the day, why, then,
they would taste the steel in common with their pres-
ent oppressors. The Ba-gcatya never spared.
Now the battle-rank of the latter underwent a
change. From each end of the great crescent
" horns " shot out, extending farther and farther.
Still the numbers of the main body seemed in no wise
to diminish. The rock-crowned mound was encircled
by a wall of living men.
Then the silence was rent asunder, and that in most
appalling fashion. From twenty thousand fierce
213
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
throats in concert went up the war-shout horrible,
terrifying combining the frenzied roars of a legion
of maniacs with the snarls and baying of hounds tear-
ing down their prey. One there had heard it before,
but not in such awful, soul-curdling volume as this.
And then, with heads bent, shields thrust forward,
broad spears in strong ready grip, the whole circle of
the Ba-gcatya host came surging up the slope.
214
CHAPTER XIX.
THE SIGN.
CRASH! crash! A long, detonating roar, then
crash! again. The rock-circle is a perfect ring of
flame, sheeting forth in red jets athwart the hanging
sulphurous smoke. Death-yells are mingling with the
fearful war-shout. Shields are flung high in the air,
and dark bodies, leaping, fall forward upon their faces,
to be trampled into lifelessness as their own comrades
tread them down, not pausing, rushing over them as
they lie.
"No, no! no quicker," reproves Hazon, who is
directing here, where the assailant's force is the strong-
est, namely, the main body, the isifuba or breast of the
impi. " Fire steadily and low, as before, but no
quicker."
His followers growl a ready assent. They are
unmitigated ruffians, but terrible and determined
fighters. The fanatical fatalism of the Mohammedan
creed renders them utterly impervious to panic. They
keep up a steady, quick-loading fire into the charg-
ing Ba-gcatya, and, aiming low, every shot tells, com-
mitting fearful havoc among the serried, onrushing
masses. Yet those terrible warriors are dauntless.
Whole lines go down; still, others surge over them,
and now the charge is but two hundred yards from
the line of rocks.
The fore ranks hesitate, then come to a halt,
215
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
crumpling back upon those behind them. The
slavers, with a shrill, ringing yell, seeing their oppor-
tunity, pour a frightfully raking volley into the
momentarily confused mass. Shields are clashed to-
gether, spears wildly waving. For the moment it
seems as though the Ba-gcatya were fighting with
each other, striving to hew their way through their
own ranks in their endeavours to escape beyond the
reach of that awful and destructive fire.
" Give it to them again ! " growls Hazon, a lurid
gleam in his deep-set, piercing eyes. " But, aim low
aim low! "
Again not a shot is thrown away. That side of
the savage host falls back hurriedly, leaving the
ground bestrewn with bodies, dead, dying, crushed.
A perfect storm of exultant cheers greets this move.
But if a temporary retreat, it is no rout. In
obedience to a rapidly-uttered, whistling signal, fully
one-half of the main body swings round and hurls
itself with incredible force and fury upon another
point of the rock-circle, seemingly the weakest point,
for here the rocks are low and apart, and have to be
supplemented with bags and bales.
Laurence Stanninghame is in command here. And
now his dark face flushes with the glow of a mad ex-
citement, a perfectly transforming exhilaration. He
would thunder his commands aloud, but that a deadly
coolness is as indispensable almost as accuracy of aim.
His orders are the same as Hazon's and uttered as
calmly but for a suppressed tremor and as audibly.
The very earth seems to rock and reel beneath the
detonating roll of the volleys, the thunderous rumble
216
THE SIGN.
of charging feet. The dark, glaring faces of warring
demons, the flinging aloft of shields, the groaning
and yells, the redness of the sheeting flames, all this
renders him mad mad with the revel of conflict,
with the herculean determination which is sublime
above death. Here again whole lines of the enemy
are down. Here again those in front would draw
back if they could, but the immense weight behind
hurls them on. It is the work of but very few
moments.
And now the whole of the Ba-gcatya host is
circling around the slaver's position, every now and
again making a furious rush upon what seems a weak
point of the defences. But the defenders have a way
of massing upon each point thus attacked, and that
with a celerity which is truly marvellous, and the re-
sult is the same. Yet with each repulse the terrible
ranks leap forward immediately, and every such charge
brings them nearer than the last. Moreover, as each
of their fighting leaders is picked off, another springs
forward with unparalleled intrepidity to take his
place. The while the barking roar of their terrific
slogan rends the air in its most demoniacal clamour.
Now an idea takes hold on the minds of these
ferocious legionaries, and it is passed like lightning
round the ranks. Those in the forefront haul up the
bodies of the slain, and, holding them to them,
stagger forward, thinking to make a buckler of the
dead for the living. But the terrible rifles of the
slavers drive their unerring missiles at that short
range through dead and living alike, and corpse is
heaped upon corpse in ghastly intertwining.
217
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
In the thickest of the tumult Hazon is here, there,
everywhere directing, encouraging, restraining. But
for the demon-glow in the black eyes staring from
the pale, set face, the man might have been made of
marble, so little trace of emotion of any kind does he
display. Laurence, too, is wary and self-contained,
though getting in here and there a telling shot.
Holmes, on the other hand, is firing away as fast as
he can load. So far not a man has been injured.
The assailants are not quite within spear-throwing
distance yet.
" Ammunition hold out? Oh, yes, we have plenty
of that," is Hazon's reply to a rapid, low-toned query
on the part of Laurence. " But it's time they turned
tail. Isandhlwana was nothing to this."
But now, with a deafening, vibrating roar the Ba-
gcatya, massing suddenly, hurl fully one-half of their
force upon the point directed by Lutali. They surge
up the slope in one dense charge of lightning swift-
ness. Bullets are hailed upon them. They waver
not. The hands of the defenders are skinned and
blistered by contact with the breeches of their own
rifles, so hot have these become through quick firing,
and still the firing is not quick enough. Stumbling,
leaping, flying over the defences they come a great
cloud of dark, grim faces, and bared teeth, and pro-
truding eyeballs. They spring upon the defences,
then over them. The whole might of the redoubtable
foe is pouring into the natural fortress.
Now ensues a scene the like of which might be
paralleled, but hardly surpassed, by some lurid drama
of hell. In jarring shock they meet, those within and
218
THE SIGN.
those, till now, without the savage legionaries of
" The Spider," and the no less savage and equally
determined slave-hunters. The Wangoni, seeing their
chance, have sprung forward to meet and roll back
the assailants. But they themselves are beaten down
by the broad shields, ripped with the terrible stabbing
spears of the ferocious Ba-gcatya, now maddened to
assuage their blood-thirst, and whose crushing might,
now pouring over in countless numbers, this handful
shall never hope to resist. The chief, Mashumbwe,
is speared and ripped. The struggle is fierce and
hand-to-hand, but short. The Wangoni, now a sorry
remnant, are rolled back upon their allies.
Of these not a man but knows that the day is lost,
that flight is impossible; that if the other half of the
Ba-gcatya host has not swarmed Dver to take them
on the rear, it is only because it is waiting to receive
on its spear points all who flee. But there is no
thought of flight. With all their indifference to
human suffering,, with all their brutality, their
savagery, the slavers are as brave as any. They are
indeed men picked for their desperate courage, and
now, standing back to back, they begin to render the
victory of the Ba-gcatya a dearly bought one indeed.
The war-shout no longer rends the air. There is a
grim, fell silence in this hand-to-hand conflict, broken
only by the snake-like hiss of the Ba-gcatya as an
enemy goes down, by the slap and shock of shield
meeting clubbed gun or stabbing knife, by the gasps
of the combatants. The cloud of powder smoke
hanging overhead partially veils the sun, which glow-
ers, a blood-red ball, through this gloomy shroud.
219
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
The whole space within the rock-circle is a very
charnel-pit of corpses, among which the combatants
stagger victorious Ba-gcatya and vanquished slave-
hunters alike stagger and slip on a foothold of oozy
gore ; stab, and strike, and fall in their turn.
In the rush and the melee Laurence Stanninghame
has become separated even farther from his com-
rades, his white comrades, that is, nor can he by
any effort hope to rejoin them. Several Arabs are
around him, his own followers, swarthy sons of the
Prophet, their keen eyes flashing hate and defiance
upon the foe, their long ataghans sweeping a circle of
light around them. In their forefront is Lutali
Lutali, whirling a great scimitar, hewing down more
than one of the too venturesome Ba-gcatya, and that
in spite of the broad bull-hide shield deftly wielded
Lutali, uttering a semi-religious war-cry, his erect
form and keen, haughty face the very personifica-
tion of absolute and dauntless valour. And he him-
self, wedged in by those around, ca/i still get in now
and again a telling shot from his revolver, and with
every such shot one more warrior of " The Spider "
has uttered his last battle cry.
No, there is no hope. Swift as lightning, a mighty
brain-wave surges through Laurence's mind, and in it
he sees the whole of- his past life. Yet not even this
dismays him rather does it engender a sort of half-
bitter exultation. Life for him has been such a mis-
take, and that not through any fault of his own. It
held no especial charm for him. All its sweetness has
been concentrated within one short idyllic period;
but even that could not have lasted even to it would
220
THE SIGN.
have come disillusionment. Lilith would never learn
his fate. It, and that of those with him, would vanish,
as others had done, into the mysteries of this great
mysterious continent. All this and more so light-
ning-like is the power of thought passes through
Laurence Stanninghame's brain at this dread and
awful moment.
A casting spear strikes him on the left shoulder,
penetrating the flesh. Infuriated by the sharp, sicken-
ing pang, he discharges his revolver at the supposed
thrower, but his aim is uncertain. Again he draws
trigger. The hammer falls with a harmless click ; the
chambers are empty. And now, hard pressed by the
yelling Ba-gcatya, those of his followers yet between
him and the enemy stagger back, fighting furiously,
while the life-stream wells from many a gashed and
gaping wound. No longer can he see either Hazon
or Holmes, for the forest of waving, reeking spear
blades. Then one of his own followers, a hulking
Swahili, mortally wounded, reels and falls, and, doing
so, bears' back Laurence beneath his ponderous
weight. The rock-rampart is immediately behind
him, and is low here. It catches the back of his
knees, and now, having lost all control over his bal-
ance, grasping at empty air in wild effort to recover
himself, Laurence pitches heavily backward over the
rocks, and lies half stunned upon the plain without.
Those of the Ba-gcatya host in waiting on that
side surge tumultuously forward, uttering yells of
savage delight. This is the first of the doomed
slavers who lias come over; and he a white man, and
of course a leader. Each warrior is eager to bury his
221
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
spear-head in this man's body, and they crowd around
him, every right hand raised aloft for the downward
stroke.
But the fatal stroke remains undealt. Broad
blades quiver aloft in a ring of steel. Each grim,
bloodthirsty countenance is set and staring, stony in
its indescribable expression of mingled marvel and
awe, and eyeballs seem to start from their sockets as
their owners stand gazing down upon this prostrate
white man. Then from each broad chest a gasp
bursts forth:
" Au! The Sign! THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER!"
223
CHAPTER XX.
TO WHAT END!
"THE Sign of the Spider!" Laurence Stanning-
hame lying there, his faculties half dazed by the shock
of his fall and the pain of his wound, hearing the
words uttered as they were in pure Zulu almost
persuaded himself that the terrible events of that day
had been a dream. But no, it was real enough. His
half-unclosed eyes took in the sea of grim, dark faces
pressing forward to gaze upon him. " The Sign of
the Spider? " What did it what could it mean, that
it should be all-powerful to stay those devouring
spears, to avert from him the grisly death of blood,
whose bitterness even then was already past? Then,
as for the first time, he suffered his glance to follow
the direction of theirs. He saw a strange thing.
The metal box had come forth, either jerked from
its resting-place during his fall, or unconsciously
plucked thence by his own hand in the last moment
of his extremity, and now, still secured by the steel
chain, it lay upon his breast. And oh! marvel of
marvels! Gazing thus upon it, focussed by his half-
closed eyelids and confused senses the straggling
monogram with its quaint turns and flourishes, lying
brown upon the more shining metal, s t eemed to take
exactly the form and aspect of a great sprawling
tarantula. " The Sign of the Spider " hz.d been their
223
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
cry! And these were ''The People of the Spider!"
What magic, what mystery was this? Lilith's last
gift, Lilith's image; even her very name! It had
indeed acted as a talisman, as a '' charm " to stand
between him and the most deadly of peril, as her aspi-
ration had worded it. Verily, again had Lilith's love
availed to stand between himself and a swift, sure, and
bloody death ! A marvel, and a stupendous one.
All this flashed through his mind as the Ba-gcatya
crowded up around him, the hubbub of their excited
voices sinking into an awestruck murmur as they
gazed upon the man who wore " The Sign of the
Spider." No wonder this man should have come forth
alive from the ring of death, they decided, he alone,
wearing that sign. And he alone had come forth.
All sounds of conflict had now ceased, giving way
to the exultant shouts and bass laughter of the vic-
torious savages looting the property of the slavers.
Not a man was left alive up there, Laurence knew
only too well. He alone was spared, as the bearer of
that mysterious sign; was spared, miraculously in-
deed but to what end?
Now he became conscious of a movement among
the crowd, which parted quickly, respectfully.
Through the opening thus effected there advanced two
men. Both were fine, tall warriors, elderly of aspect,
for their short, crisp beards were turning gray, but
apparently in the very prime of athletic strength and
vigour. In outward adornment their appearance
differed little from that of the bulk of the Ba-gcatya.
Their shaven heads were surmounted by the isicoco,
or ring, exactly after the Zulu fashion, and on either
224
TO WHAT END!
side of this, but fastened so as not to interfere with it,
nodded a tuft of magnificent white ostrich plumes.
Laurence, who had now raised himself to a sitting
posture, felt no doubt but that in these he beheld the
two principal war-chiefs of the Ba-gcatya army.
" Who art thou, stranger, who wearest the Sign of
the Spider? " began one of these in pure Zulu, after
gazing upon him for a moment in silence.
Laurence at first thought to affect ignorance of the
language, of which, indeed, he possessed considerable
knowledge. He would the more readily get at their
plans and intentions that way. But then it occurred
to him he could hardly sustain his character as one to
be favoured of the People of the Spider if professing
an ignorance of their tongue, and he intended to work
that fortunate incident for all it would carry. So he
replied courteously:
>l You see me, father. I alone am alive of those who
fought up yonder. Even the spear which would slay
me refused its work. It was turned aside," showing
the wound in his shoulder, of which he realized he
must make light, though, as a matter of fact, it was
giving him considerable pain.
A deep murmur from the vast and increasing audi-
ence convinced the speaker that he had scored a point
in making this statement. The chief continued:
" Rest now, while we rest, O stranger, and eat, for
the way is far which lies before us."
" And whither does that way lie, O brave ones
who command the valiant? " asked Laurence.
" Where dwelleth the Strong Wind that burns from
the North." And with this darkly enigmatical re-
225
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
joinder the speaker and his brother chief turned away,
as a sign that the conference need proceed no further
at present.
Some of those who had heard now beckoned Lau-
rence forward, and, as he moved among that terrible
host, many and strange were the glances which were
cast at him. He, for his part, was not unmoved.
This was an experience clean outside any he had
ever known. The might and stature of these for-
midable warriors, lingering around in immense
groups, many of them bleeding from ghastly wounds,
yet devouring the dried food they carried, the while
comrades were treating their hurts after a fashion
which would have caused the civilized being to shriek
aloud with agony; the ferocious volubility wherewith
they discussed and fought the battle over again; and
away beyond their lines, the earth black with corpses
of the slain; while up yonder, though this he could
not see, the rock circle was literally piled with those
who had been his friends or followers for many a long
day. All this impressed him to an extent which he
had hardly deemed possible, though of any outward
evidence thereof he gave no sign.
" Are all dead up yonder? " he asked some of the
Ba-gcatya, as he joined them in their frugal fare.
A laugh, derisive but not discourteous to himself,
greeted the question.
"An! The bite of The Spider does not need
repeating twice," was the reply. " None who have
once felt it live."
The Ba-gcatya, heavy as had been their losses, were
in high good-humour over their victory. After all, it
226
TO WHAT END!
was a victory, and a hard-fought one. They only
lived for such. Losses were nothing to them. The
spoils of the slavers' caravan arms, ammunition,
goods of all sorts, were distributed for transport
among the younger regiments of the impi, which, its
allotted period of rest over, at a mandate from its
chiefs prepared for departure. And now the solitary
white man in its midst captive or guest, he himself
was hardly certain which had an opportunity of
admiring the stern and iron discipline of this splendid
army of savages. That of the Zulu troops under the
rule of Cetywayo, or even under that of Tshaka, might
have equalled it, but could not possibly have surpassed
it. Each company fell into rank with machine-like
precision and celerity. The dead were left as they
fell ; those who were too grievously wounded to move
received death from the swift, sure spear-stroke of a
comrade; then, marching in five columns, the great
army set forth on its return, striking a course to the
northward.
Laurence Stanninghame's feelings were passing
strange as he found himself thus carried captive, he
knew not whither, by this mighty nation which had
hitherto been to him but a name, as to whose very
existence he had been until quite recently more than
half sceptical. Hazon had not exaggerated its strength
or prowess; no, not one whit. Of that he had had
abundant testimony. And Hazon himself? That
strange individual, with his marked-out personality,
his cold-blooded ruthlessness and dauntless courage?
Well, his career was done. He lay in yonder circle,
buried beneath the slain, fighting to the last with
227
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
fierce and consistent valour. And Holmes? Even
Laurence's hardened nature felt soft as he thought of
the comrade with whom he had been so closely linked
during these years of lawless and perilous enterprise.
Well, they were gone, 1 and he was spared, but to
what end?
Then the spirit of the true adventurer reasserted
itself. What lay before him? What were the chances
opening out to him in the dim, unknown land whither
they were speeding? " You will return wealthy, or
you will not return at all," had been Hazon's words;
and now their utterer would utter no more words of
any kind but he, Laurence, would he return at all?
Would he?
And now, as they gained the edge of the great plain,
the whole impi raised a mighty battle-song, impro-
vised to celebrate their triumph. Its fierce strophes
rolled like thunder along the ranks to the tread of
marching feet, and the multitude of hide shields
dappled the plain far and near, and the wavy lines of
spear-points flashed and sparkled in the sunlight.
And already over the wizard ring of the rock circle,
piled with its slain, immense clouds of vultures were
wheeling beneath the blue vault or swooping down
upon their abundant feast. And the sun, flaming
down upon the torrid earth, seemed to shed a pitiless,
brassy glare upon this awful hecatomb, whose annals
should ever remain unrecorded, swallowed up in the
grim and gloomy mysteries of that region of cruelty
and of blood.
For many days thus they journeyed making rapid,
but not forced marches. The aspect of the country,
228
TO WHAT END!
too, varied, open, wavy plains, where giraffe and
buffalo were plentiful, and were hunted in great num-
bers for the supply of the impi, then gloomy forest
tracts, which seemed to depress the Ba-gcatya, who
hurried through them with all possible speed. Broad
rivers, too, swarming with crocodiles and hippo-
potami, and these the warriors would dash through
in a mass, making the most hideous yelling and
splashing. But even the ground seemed gradually to
ascend, and certain white peaks, for some time visible
on the far sky line, were drawing nearer, growing
larger with every march.
It may seem strange how readily Laurence Stann-
inghame adapted himself to this new turn in the tide
of his affairs and indeed now and again he would
faintly wonder at it himself. He had fought against
these formidable savages in the most determined and
bloody hand-to-hand conflict that had ever befallen
his lot, or, in all probability, ever would again. They
had overwhelmed and massacred his comrades and
whole following; sparing himself alone, and that by a
miracle. And now not only was he subjected to no
ill-treatment or indignity, but moved freely among
them, and was even suffered to retain his arms. Yet
there was a sort of stand-offishness about most of
them, in which he thought to descry a mingling of awe
and repulsion.
Now and again, however, a thought would occur to
him, a thought productive of a cold shiver. To
what end was he thus spared? Was it to be sacrificed
in some hideous and gruesome rite? The thought
was not a pleasant one, and it would intrude more and
229
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
more. The hot African glow, the adventurous life,
replete with every phase of weird and depressing inci-
dent, had strangely affected this man's temperament.
With all his coolness in emergencies his readiness
of resource in times of rest he would grow moody
and high-strung. A sort of surcharged, mesmeric
property seemed to hold him at such times, and he
would wonder whether the hideous experiences and
iron self-repression which he had passed through of
late had not begun, unknown to himself, actually to
affect his brain.
Now during the heat of the midday halt, he would
withdraw and sit alone by the hour, contemplating
the metal box, and at times its contents. More and
more, since his wonderful escape, was it assuming in
his eyes the properties of an amulet, or charm. It
would reassure him, too, what time unpleasant
thoughts would weigh upon him as to the end to
which he had been reserved. Twice had Lilith's love
stood between him and death. Would it not again?
In truth the metal box was a possession beyond price.
All unconsciously his frequent and rapt contempla-
tion of this object was standing him in valuable stead.
The Ba-gcatya, furtively beholding him thus engaged,
for he was never beyond their watchful gaze, were
strengthened in their belief that he was a magician
of the Spider, and feared him the more. He was thus,
unconsciously, keeping up his character as such.
Yet, vivid as recollection was, as conjured up by
the metal box, in other respects the old life seemed
far away as a dream; misty, shadowy, vanishing.
All its old conventionalities, its abstract notions of
230
TO WHAT END!
right and wrong, what were they? Dust. Even now,
whither was he wending? Would he ever again
behold a white face? It might be never.
" Have no white people ever visited your country,
Silawayo? " he said one day while he and the two
war-chiefs were talking together during the march.
" One only," was the reply, given with a shade of
hesitation.
" And what became of him? "
" Au! He went to Well, he went " an-
swered the chief, with a curious look.
The reply smote upon Laurence with a cold fear.
What grim and gruesome form of mysterious doom
did it not point to? " One only," Silawayo had said.
He himself was the second. It seemed ominous.
But it would never do to manifest curiosity, let alone
apprehension, on his own account, so he forebore fur-
ther query as to the mystery, whatever it might be.
Yet he thought it no harm to say:
" And what was this white man, Silawayo? "
" He was Umfundisi " (a preacher), answered the
other chief, Ngumunye. " The king loves not such."
Well, the king need have no objections to himself
on that score, at any rate, thought Laurence, with a
dash of grim humour. But he only said:
" The king? Tell me about your king, Izinduna.
How does he look? What is his name? "
"Haul Is it possible, O stranger, that you have
never heard the name of the king? " said Ngumunye,
turning upon Laurence a blankly astonished face.
" Did not Silawayo but now say that only one white
man had visited your country and even he had not
231
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
returned?" said Laurence, in native fashion answer-
ing one query with another.
" Ha! " cried both chiefs, whom an idea seemed to
strike. Then Ngumunye went on impressively:
" Look around, O bearer of the Sign of the Spider.
For days we have seen no man, the remains of huts
have we seen, but of people none. You too were
remarking upon it but yesterday."
;< That is so," assented Laurence.
" The remains of huts, but of people none," repeated
the induna, with a wave of his hand. " Well, stranger,
that is the name of the king, the Great Great One."
" The name of the king? "
"ITyisandhlu!"
" ITyisandhlu? The Strong Wind that burns from
the North? " repeated Laurence, translating the name.
" E-he! " assented the chiefs emphatically. " Now
say, hath not a broad belt around the land of the
People of the Spider been burned flat?" with a wave
of the hand which took in the desolated region.
They had gained the great mountain range whose
snowy summits had been drawing nearer for days,
and a noble range indeed it was apparently, more-
over, of immense altitude. Laurence Stanninghame,
who was well acquainted with the Alps, now gazed in
wonder and admiration upon these snow-capped
Titans whose white heads seemed to support the blue
vault of heaven itself, to such dizzy heights did they
soar. Walls of black cliff, overhung with cornices
even as with gigantic white eyebrows, towered up
from dazzling snow slope, and higher still riven crags,
split into all fantastic shapes, frowned forth as though
232
TO WHAT END!
to menace the world. And all around, clinging about
the feet of these stupendous heights, soft, luxuriant
forests, tuneful with the murmur of innumerable
glacier streams. A very Paradise of beauty and
grandeur side by side, thought Laurence amid which
the shields and spears, the marching column of the
savage host seemed strangely out of keeping.
" How are they called, those mountains, Sila-
wayo? " he said.
" Beyond them lies the land of the People of the
Spider," answered the induna evasively. And the
other understood that he must not look for exuber-
ant information on topographical subjects just then.
They entered the mountains by a deep, black defile
which pierced the range. For a day and night they
wound through this, hardly pausing to rest, for it had
become piercingly cold. Moreover, as Silawayo ex-
plained, even when the weather was at its highest
stage of sultriness elsewhere, in the mountains the
changes were sudden and great. To be snowed up
in this pass was too serious a matter to risk.
" Was it the only gate by which the country of the
Ba-gcatya was entered, then?"
But Silawayo did not seem to hear this question.
He descanted learnedly on the suddenness of the
mountain storms, and told tales of more than one
impi which had set forth in all its warlike ardour, and
had found here a stiff and frozen bed whereon its
people might rest for all time.
The while keenly alert to take in all the features
of the route, Laurence affected the greatest interest
in the conversation of those around him. But there
233
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
was that about the dark ruggedness of this stupendous
pass that weighed heavily upon his mind that de-
pressed, well-nigh appalled him. It was as though
he were passing through some black and gloomy
gate which should shut him forever from the outside
world, as they wound their way now where the cliffs
beetled overhead so as to shut out the heavens, now
along some dizzy ledge, with the dull roar of the
mountain stream wafted up on icy gusts from far be-
low. He suffered severely from the cold too, he who
had breathed the moist, torrid heat of equatorial
forests for so long, and his wound became congealed
and stiff. Yet he bore himself heroically, even as the
Ba-gcatya themselves, who, their scanty clothing
notwithstanding, seemed to feel the cold not one
whit, chatting and laughing and singing while they
marched. Finally the ground descended once more,
and at length while he was nodding in slumber at
the dawn of day, during one of their brief rests
Ngumunye touched him on the shoulder and beck-
oned that he should accompany him. Laurence com-
plied, and when they had gained the brow of a gently
rising ridge beyond, an exclamation of wonder and
admiration burst from his lips.
" Lo ! " said the induna, pointing down with his
knob-stick. " Lo! there lies the land of the People
of the Spider; there rests the throne of the Strong
Wind that burns from the North. Lo! his dwelling,
Imvungayo."
234
CHAPTER XXI.
THE NORTH.
FROM where they stood the ground fell away in
great wooded spurs to a broad level valley, or rather
plain, shut in on the farther side by rolling ranges
of forest-clad hills. The valley bottom, green and
undulating, was watered by numerous streams, flash-
ing like bands of silver ribbon in the golden glow of
the newly risen sun. Clustering here and there, five
or six together, were kraals, circular and symmetrical,
built on the Zulu plan, and from their dome-shaped
grass huts blue lines of smoke were arising upon the
still morning air. Already, dappling the sward, the
many coloured hides of innumerable cattle could be
seen moving, and the long drawn shout and whistle
of these who tended them rose in faint and harmoni-
ous echo to the height whence they looked down.
Patches of broad, flag-like maize, too, stood out, in
darker squares, from the verdancy of the grass, and
bird voices in glad note made merry among the cool,
leafy, forest slopes. Coming in contrast to the
steamy heat, the dank and gloomy equatorial vegeta-
tion, the foul and noisome surroundings of the canni-
bal villages, this smiling land of plenty did indeed
offer to him who now first beheld it a fair and blithe-
some sight.
235
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
But another object attracted and held the attention
of the spectator even more than all. This was an
immense kraal. It lay on the slope at least ten miles
away, but with the aid of his glass, which had been
returned to him from among the slavers' loot, Lau-
rence could bring it very near indeed. The yellow-
domed huts lay six or seven deep between their dark,
ringed fences, the great circular space in the middle
the isigodhlo, or inclosure of royal dwellings par-
titioned off at the upper end why, the place might
have been the chief kraal of Cetywayo or Dingane
miraculously transferred to this remote and unex-
plored region.
" Lo ! Imvungayo. The seat of the Great Great
One the Strong Wind that burns from the North,"
murmured Ngumunye, interpreting his glance of in-
quiry. " Come let us go down."
As the great impi, which up till now had been
marching " at ease," emerged upon the plain, once
more the warriors formed into rank, and advanced in
serried columns singing a war-song. Immediately
the whole land was as a disturbed beehive. Men,
women, and children flocked forth to welcome them,
the latter especially, pressing forward with eager
curiosity to obtain a glimpse of the white man, the
first of the species they had ever seen, and the air
rang with the shrill, excited cries of astonishment
wherewith they greeted his appearance, and the calm,
unruffled way in which he ignored both their presence
and amazement. Much singing followed; the stay-at-
homes answering the war-song of the warriors in re-
236
"THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS."
sponsive strophes but there was little variety in
these, which consisted largely, as it seemed to Lau-
rence, of exuberant references to " The Spider " and
praise of the king.
As they drew near the great kraal, two companies
of girls, arrayed in beaded dancing dresses, advanced,
waving green boughs, and, halting in front of the re-
turning impi t sang a song of welcome. Their voices
were melodious and pleasing to the last degree, im-
parting a singular charm to the somewhat monoto-
nous repetition of the wild chant now in a soft
musical contralto, now shrilling aloft in a note of
pealing gladness. Laurence, who was beginning to
feel vividly interested in this strange race of valiant
fighters, failed not to note that many of these girls
were of extraordinarily prepossessing appearance, with
their tall, beautiful figures and supple limbs, their
clear eyes and white teeth, and bright, pleasing faces.
Then suddenly song and dance alike ceased, and the
women, parting into two companies, the whole impi
moved forward again, marching between them.
The huge kraal was very near now, the palisade
lined with the faces of eager spectators. But Lau-
rence, quick to take in impressions, noticed that here
there were no severed heads stuck about in ghastly
ornament. This splendid race, as pitiless and un-
sparing in victory as it was intrepid in the field, was
clearly above the more monstrous and revolting
forms of savage barbarity. Then all further reflec-
tions were diverted into an entirely new channel, for
the whole impi tossing the unarmed right hand aloft
23?
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
thundered aloud the salute royal, then fell prostrate:
" Bayete! "
The roar sudden, and as one man of that multi-
tude of voices was startling, well-nigh terrifying.
Laurence, unprepared for any such move, found him-
self standing there he alone, erect while around
him, as so much mown corn, lay prostrate on their
faces this immense company of armed warriors. Then
he took in the reason.
Just in front of where the impi had halted rose a
small cluster of trees crowning a knoll. Beneath the
shade thus formed was a group of men, in a half-
squatting, half-crouching attitude all save one.
Yes. One alone was standing standing a little in
advance of the group standing tall, erect, majestic
in a splendid attitude of ease and dignity, as, with
head thrown slightly back, he darted his clear expres-
sive eyes proudly over the bending host. A man in
the prime of life a perfect embodiment of symmetry
and strength he wore no attempt at gew-gaws or
meretricious adornment. His shaven head was
crowned with the usual isicoco, or ring, whose jetty
blackness seemed to render the rich copper hue of the
smooth skin even lighter, and for all clothing he wore
a mutya of lion-skin and leopards' tails. Yet Lau-
rence Stanninghame, gazing upon him, recognized a
natural dignity nay, a majesty enthroning this
nearly naked savage such as he had never seen quite
equalled in the aspect or deportment of any other liv-
ing man. Clearly this was the king Tyisandhlu
"The Strong Wind that burns from the North."
Removing his hat with one hand he raised the other
238
-THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS."
above his head, and repeated the salute royal as he
had heard it from the warriors.
The king acknowledged his greeting by a brief
murmur. Then he called aloud:
" Rise up, my children."
As one man that huge assembly sprang to its feet,
and the quivering rattle of spear-hafts was as a
winter gale rushing through a leafless wood ; with one
voice it began to thunder forth the royal titles.
"O Great Spider! Terrible Spider! Blood-
drinking Spider, whose bite is death! O Serpent!
O Elephant! Thunderer of the heavens! Divider of
the Sun! House Burner! O Destroyer! O All
Devouring Beast! " These were some of the titles
used but the praisers would always bring back the
bonga to some attribute of the spider. Laurence, who
understood the system, noted this peculiarity, differ-
ing, as it did, from the Zulu practice of making the
serpent the principal term of praise. Finally, as by
signal, the shouting ceased, and the principal leaders
of the impi, disarming, crept forward, two by two, to
the king's feet.
Laurence was too far off to hear what was said, for
the tone was low, but he judged, and rightly, that the
chiefs were giving an account of the expedition. At
length the king dismissed them, and pointing with the
short knob-stick he held in his hand, ordered that he
himself should be brought forward.
The ranks of the warriors opened to let him
through, and as, having been careful to disarm in turn,
he advanced, Laurence could not repress a tightening
thrill of the pulses as he wondered what fate it was,
239
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
as regarded himself, that should now fall from the lips
of this despot, whose very name meant a terror and
a scourge.
Tyisandhlu for some moments uttered no word,
but stood gazing fixedly upon his prisoner in con-
templative silence. Laurence, for his part, was study-
ing, no less attentively, the king. The finely shaped
head and lofty brow the clear eyes and oval face,
culminating in a short beard, whose jetty thickness
just began to show here and there a streak of gray,
the noble stature and erect carriage, impressed him
even more, thus face to face, than at a distance.
" They say thou bearest the Sign of this nation,
O stranger," began the king, speaking in the Zulu
tongue, " and that to this thou owest thy life."
" That is true, Great Great One," answered Lau-
rence.
"But how know we that the Sign is genuine?"
continued Tyisandhlu.
" By this, Father of the People of the Spider. Not
once has it stood between me and death, but twice,
and that at the hands of your people."
A murmur of astonishment escaped his hearers.
But the king said:
" When was this other time? for such would, in
truth, be something of a test."
Then Laurence told the tale of his conflict with
the Ba-gcatya warriors beneath the tree-fern by the
lagoon and the murmur among the listeners
deepened.
" I was but one man, and they were twelve," he
concluded. " Twelve of the finest warriors in the
240
"THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS."
world, even the warriors of the People of the Spider.
Yet they could not harm me, see you, Great Great
One. They could not prevail against the man who
held who wore the Sign of the Spider."
Now an emphatic hum arose on the part of all who
heard and indeed there had been a silence that might
be felt while he had been narrating his tale. More
than ever was Laurence convinced that in deciding
to tell it he had acted with sound judgment. He had
little or nothing to fear from the vengeance of the rela-
tives of those he had slain for he had seen enough of
these people to guess that they did not bear a grudge
over the fortunes of war over losses sustained in
fair and open fight. And, on the other hand, he had
immensely strengthened his own case.
" Yet, you made common cause with these foul and
noisome Izimu"* said the king, shifting somewhat
his ground. " These carrion dogs, who devour one
another, even their own flesh and blood? "
" I but spared one of their villages, O Great North
Wind. For the rest, how many have I left stand-
ing?"
;< That is so," said Tyisandhlu, still gazing fixedly
at his prisoner. Then he signed the latter to retire
among the warriors, and, turning, gave a few rapid
directions in a low voice to an attendant.
In the result, a group of armed warriors was seen
hurrying forward, and in its midst a man, unarmed
a man ragged and covered with dried blood, and with
his arms ignominiously bound behind him. And
wild amazement was in store for Laurence. He had
* Cannibals.
241
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
reckoned himself the sole survivor of the massacre.
Yet now in this helpless and ill-treated prisoner he
recognized no less a personage than Lutali.
His body and limbs slashed with many spear-
wounds his clothing cut to ribbons his half-starved
and filthy aspect as he was hustled forward into the
king's presence, the Arab would have looked a pitiable
object enough but for one thing. The dignity be-
gotten of high descent and indomitable courage never
left him not for one moment. Weak as he was with
loss of blood and the pain of his untended and morti-
fying wounds the glance of his eyes, no less than the
set of his keen, hawk-like face, was as proud, as fear-
less, as that of the king himself.
" Down, dog! " growled the guards, flinging him
forward on his face. " Lick the earth at the feet of
the Great North Wind, whose blast kills ! "
But immediately Lutali staggered to his feet, and
the hell blast of hate and fury which shone from his
eyes was perfectly demoniacal.
" There is but one God, and Mohammed is the
prophet of God ! " he roared. " Am I to prostrate
myself before an infidel dog the chief dog of a pack
of dogs? This for the scum!" And he spat full
towards Tyisandhlu.
An indescribable shiver of awe ran through the
dense and serried ranks of armed warriors, followed
by a terrible tumult.
" Au! he is mad!" cried some; while others
clamoured, " Give him to us, Great Great One. We
will put him to the fiery death! "
But the king returned no word. It is even possible
242
"THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS."
that his own intrepid soul was moved to admiration
by the sublime courage of this man his prisoner,
bound, helpless, weakened standing thus before him
before him at whose frown men trembled face to
face, and thus defying him. One other who beheld
it, the sight must have powerfully moved, for with
a lull in the tumult a voice rose clear and dis-
tinct:
" Spare him, O Great Great One, for he is a brave
man."
If anyone had told Laurence Stanninghame but an
hour earlier that he was about to commit so rash and
suicidal an act as to beg the life of another at the hands
of a grossly insulted despot, and in the face of an
enraged nation, he would have scouted the idea as
too weakly idiotic for words. Yet, in fact, he had
just committed that very act. Deep and savage were
the resentful growls that greeted his words. "Au!
he presumes! He shares in the insult offered to the
majesty of the king," were some of the ominous mut-
terings that went forth.
The king merely glanced in the direction of the
speaker, and said nothing. But Lutali, becoming
aware for the first time of the presence of his former
confederate, turned towards the latter.
" Ask not my life at the hands of these dogs, these
unclean swine, Afa," he cried ; " lo, Paradise awaits
to receive the believer. I hasten to it; I enter it;"
and he threw back his head fearlessly, while his eyes
shone with a fanatical glare.
" Spare him, O king, for he is a brave man," urged
Laurence again.
243
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" And so art thou, I think," replied Tyisandhlu,
turning a somewhat haughty stare upon the speaker.
Then he muttered, " Yet not this one."
An interruption occurred; gruesome, grotesque. A
number of figures, seeming to spring from no one
knew where, were seen gliding forward. They were
coal black from head to foot, and their faces were
more like masks than the human countenance, being
bedaubed with some pigment that gave each of them
the aspect of possessing two huge goggle eyes. But
these horrible beings seemed at first sight to have no
arms and no legs, their whole anatomy being encased
in a sort of black, hairy sacking, whence tails and
streamers, also hairy, flapped in the air as they moved.
Hideous, indeed, they looked, hideous and gro-
tesque, half reptile, half devil.
They surrounded Lutali all in dead silence, the
guards precipitately falling back to give them way.
Then the king spoke, and his words were gentle and
mocking:
" Go now to thy Paradise, O believer; these will
show thee the way. Hamba-gahle!"
He waved his hand, and. in obedience to the
signal, the whole group of black horrors fastened upon
the Arab and dragged him away. And from all who
beheld there went up a deep, chest note of exclama-
tion that was part satisfaction, part awe.
The king, having received further reports and
attended to other business connected with the army,
withdrew. Laurence, watching the stately person-
ality of this splendid savage retiring amid the groups
of indunas towards the gate of the great kraal, felt his
244
"THE STRONG WIND THAT BURNS."
ever-present conjectures as to his own fate merge in
a vivid sense of interest. But Tyisandhlu seemed to
have forgotten his existence, for he bestowed no
further word upon him ; however, he was taken charge
of by Ngumunye, who assigned him a large hut
within the roval kraal.
245
CHAPTER XXII.
THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY.
THE next few days were spent by the Ba-gcatya in
dancing and ceremonial and by Laurence Stanning-
hame in trying to find out all he could about the
Ba-gcatya. He laid himself out to make friends
with them, and this was easy, for the natural
suspiciousness wherewith the savage invariably re-
gards a new acquaintance, once fairly laid to rest, the
Ba-gcatya proved as chatty and genial a race of people
as those of the original Zulu stock. But on one point
the lips of old and young alike were sealed, and that
was the fate of Lutali. No word would they ever by
any chance let fall as to this; but the awed silence
wherewith they would treat all mention of it, and their
hurried efforts to change the subject, added not a
little to the impression the last glimpse of his Arab
confederate had made upon Laurence. What awe-
some, devilish mystery did not those hideous beings
represent?
For the rest, he learned that these people were of
Zulu stock, and having opposed the accession of
Tshaka, when that potentate usurped the royal seat
of Dingiswayo, had deemed it advisable to flee.
They had migrated northward, even as Umzilikazi
and his followers had done, though some, years prior
246
THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY.
to the flight of that chieftain. But they were nothing
if not conservative, and so intent was the king on
preserving the pure Zulu blood, that he was chary of
allowing any slaves among them. As it was, the issue
of all slaves had no rights, and could under no cir-
cumstances whatever rise above the condition of
slavery. And Laurence, noting the grand physique,
and even the handsome appearance, of the sons and
daughters of this splendid race, had no doubt as to
the wisdom of such a restriction.
Now, as the days went by, there began to grow
upon Laurence a sort of restfulness. The terrible
conflict and merciless massacre of his friends and fol-
lowers had impressed him but momentarily, accus-
tomed as he was to scenes of horror and of blood and
indeed in direct contrast to such did he the more
readily welcome the peaceful tranquillity of his present
life. For the dreaded Ba-gcatya at home were a
quiet and pastoral race owning extensive herds of
cattle also goats and a strange kind of large-tailed
sheep though, true to their origin, horned cattle
formed the staple of their possessions, and the land
around the king's great palace was dappled with graz-
ing stock, and the air was musical with the singing of
women hoeing the millet and maize gardens.
Then again, the surrounding country swarmed with
game, large and small, from the colossal elephant to
the tiny dinkerbuck. To Laurence, passionately
fond of sport, this alone was sufficient to reconcile him
to his strange captivity for a time. He would be the
life and soul of the Ba-gcatya hunting parties, and
skill and success, together with his untiring energy
247
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
and philosophical acceptance of the hardships and
vicissitudes of the chase, went straight to the hearts
of these fine, fearless barbarians. He became quite a
favourite with the nation.
The female side of the latter, too, looked upon him
with kindly eyes. He would chaff the girls, when he
came upon them wandering in bevies, as was their
wont, and tell them strange stories of other condi-
tions of life, until they fairly screamed with laughter,
or brought their hands to their mouths in mute
wonder.
" Whau, Nyonyoba, why do you not lobola for
some of these? " said Silawayo one day, coming upon
him thus engaged. " Then you could dwell among
us as one of ourselves."
" One might do worse, induna of the king," he
returned tranquilly, with a glance at the group of
bright-faced, merry, and extremely well-shaped dam-
sels, whom he had been convulsing with laughter.
" You! Listen to our father," they cried. " He is
joking, indeed. Yau! Farewell, Nyonyoba. Fare
thee well." And they sped away, still screaming with
laughter.
The old induna looked quizzically after them, then
at Laurence. Then he took snuff.
" One might do worse, Silawayo," repeated Lau-
rence. " I have known worse times than those I have
already undergone here. But all I possess I have
lost. My slaves your people have killed, and my ivory
and goods the king has taken, leaving me nothing
but my arms and ammunition. Tell me, then, do the
Ba-gcatya give their daughters for nothing, or how
248
THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY. '
shall a man who is so poor think to set up a kraal
of his own? "
The induna laughed dryly.
" We are all poor that way, for all we own belongs
to the king. Yet the Great Great One is open handed.
He might return some of your goods, Nyonyoba."
This, by the way, was Laurence's sobriquet among
these people, bestowed upon him by reason of his skill
and craft in stalking wild game.
It was even as he had said. This raid had gone
far towards undoing the results of their lawless and
perilous enterprise a portion of his gains were safe,
but this last blow was of crippling force. And only
a day or so prior to it he had been revelling in the
prospect of a speedy return to civilized life, to the
enjoyment of wealth for the remainder of his allotted
span. He recalled the misgivings uttered by Holmes,
that wealth thus gained would bring them no good,
for the curse of blood that lay upon it. Poor Holmes !
The prophecy seemed to have come true as re-
garded the prophet but for himself? well, the loss
reconciled him still more to his life among the
Ba-gcatya.
Of Tyisandhlu he had seen but little. Now and
then the king would send for him and talk for a time
upon things in general, and all the while Laurence
would feel that the shrewd, keen eyes of this barbarian
ruler were reading him like a book. Tyisandhlu,
moreover, had expressed a wish that a body of picked
men should be armed with the rifles taken from the
slavers, and instructed in their use; and to this Lau-
rence had readily consented.
249
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
"Yet consider, Ndabezita," * he had said, "is it
well to teach them reliance on any weapon rather than
the broad spear? For had your army possessed fire-
weapons, never would it have eaten up our camp out
yonder. It would have spent all its time and energy
shooting, and that to little purpose. It would have
had time to think, and then the warriors would
have brought but half a heart to the last fierce
charge,
" There is much in what you say, Nyonyoba,"
replied the king; "yet, I would try the experiment."
So the indunas were required to select the men,
and about three hundred were organized, and Lau-
rence, having spent much care in their instruction,
soon turned out a very fair corps of sharp-shooters.
No scruple had he in thus increasing the fighting
strength of this already fierce and formidable fighting
race, to which he had taken a great liking. He even
began to contemplate the contingency of ending his
life among them, for of any return to civilization there
seemed not the remotest prospect; and, indeed, rather
than return without the wealth for which he had risked
so much, he preferred not to return at all.
Even the memory of Lilith brought with it pain
rather than solace. After all this time years indeed,
now would not his memory have faded? The life
he had led tended to foster such memory in himself,
but with her it was otherwise. All the conditions of
her daily life tended rather to dim it. That sweet,
short, passionate episode had been all entrancing while
* A term of deference frequently used in addressing one of the
royal family.
250
THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY.
it lasted ; yet was it not counterpoised by the certainty
that with women of her temperament such episodes
are but episodes? All the bitter side of his philosophy
cried aloud in the affirmative.
He had now been several months among the Ba-
gcatya; and had long since ceased to feel any misgiv-
ing as to his personal safety at their hands. But his
sense of security was destined to receive a rude shock,
and it came about in this way.
Returning one day from a hunt, at some distance
from Imvungayo, he had marched on ahead of his
companions, and, the afternoon being hot, had lain
down in the shade of a cluster of trees for a brief nap.
From this the buzz of muttering voices awakened
him.
At first he paid no attention, reckoning that the
remainder of the party had come up. But soon a
remark which was let fall started him very wide
awake indeed, and at the same time he recognized that
the voices were not those of his present companions,
but of strangers. From a certain quaver or hesi-
tancy in the tones, he judged them to be the voices of
old men.
" Whau! The spider must be growing hungry
again. It is long since he has drunk blood."
" Not since the son of Tondusa assumed the head-
ring/' answered the other.
" And now a greater is about to assume the head-
ring," went on the first speaker, " even Ncute, the son
of Nondwana."
"The brother of the Great Great One?"
" The same," asserted the first speaker, in that
251
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
sing-song hum in which natives, when among them-
selves, will carry on a conversation for hours.
Now the listener was interested indeed. On the
mysterious subject of " The Spider " the Ba-gcatya
had been close as death. No hint or indication tend-
ing to throw light upon it would they let fall in reply
to any question, direct or indirect. Now he was
going to hear something. These men, unaware of
his presence, and talking freely among themselves,
would certainly afford more than a clew to it.
Nondwana, the king's brother, he suspected of being
not over favourably disposed towards himself, possibly
through jealousy.
"That will be when the second moon is at full?"
continued one of the talkers.
" It will. Ha! The Spider will receive a brave
offering. Yet how shall it devour one who bears its
Sign?"
" It may not," rejoined the other. " Haul that will
in truth be a test if the sign is real."
One who bears its Sign! The listener felt every
drop of blood within him turn cold, freeze from head
to foot. What sort of devil-god could it be from
which this nation derived its name, and which these
were talking about as one that devoured men?
He that bears its Sign! The words could apply to
none other than himself. He had deduced that,
although the Ba-gcatya held cannibalism in abhor-
rence, yet from time to time human sacrifices of very
awesome and mysterious nature took place, and that
on certain momentous occasions the accession or
death of a king, of an heir to any branch of the
252
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
royal house, or such a one as this now under discus-
sion the admission to full privileges of manhood of
a scion of the same. And the sacrifice on this occasion
was to consist of himself? To this end he had been
spared even honoured.
" It will in truth be a test, for some doubt that the
Sign as worn by this stranger hath any magic at all,"
continued one of the talkers. " If he comes out un-
harmed haul that will be a marvel, indeed a
marvel, indeed."
"E-he!" they assented. Then they fell to talk-
ing of other things, and soon the concealed listener
heard them rise up and depart.
Laurence decided to wait no more for his com-
panions. He wanted to be alone and think this
matter out. So when the voices of the talkers had
fairly faded beyond earshot he left the cluster of trees
on the farther side and took his way down the
mountain slope.
A ghastly fear was upon him. The horror and
mystery of the thing got upon even his iron nerves
the suddenness of it too, just when he had lulled him-
self into a complete sense of security. Had he learned
in like fashion that he was to be slain in an ordinary
way at a given time it would not have shaken him
beyond the ordinary. But this thing there was
something so devilish about it. What did it mean?
Was it some grotesque idol worked by mechanism,
even as in the old pagan temples to which human
sacrifices were offered? Or for he could not can-
didly discredit all the wierd and marvellous tales and
traditions of some of these up-country tribes, de-
ass
THE SHADOW OF THE MYSTERY.
graded and man-eating as they were was it some
unknown and terrifying monster inhabiting the dens
and caves of the earth? Whatever it was, he knew
too well, of course, that the coincidence which had so
miraculously resulted in the sparing of his life at the
hands of the victorious Ba-gcatya, reeking with
slaughter, would stand him in nowhere here. He re-
membered the mystery hanging over the fate of
Lutali, and those horrible beings who had hauled the
Arab to his doom, whatever it was, who indeed might
well constitute the priesthood of the unknown devil-
god.
Surely never indeed had earth presented a fairer
scene than this upon which the adventurer's eyes
rested, as he made his way down the mountain-side.
The calm, peaceful beauty of the day, the golden
sunlight flooding the plain beneath, the great circle
of Imvungayo, and the by contrast tiny circles of
lesser kraals scattered about the valley or crown-
ing some mountain spur, and, mellow upon the
stillness, the distant low of cattle the singing of
women at work mingling with the soft voices of a
multitude of doves in cornlands and the surrounding
forest-trees. Yet now in the white peaks towering
to the cloudless heavens, in the black and craggy
rifts, in the wide, rolling, partially-wooded plains
the hunter's paradise this man saw only a gloomy
wizard circle, inclosing some horrible inferno, the
throne of the frightful demon-god of this extraor-
dinary race.
Then it occurred to Laurence that he had better
not let this thing get too much upon his nerves. It
254
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
was the result of inaction, he told himself. Several
months of rest and tranquillity had begun to turn him
soft. That would not do. He had got to look mat-
ters in the face fairly and squarely. The ceremony
which was to bring him to what would almost certainly
be a fearful fate was set for the fall of the second moon,
the talkers had said but of this he had been already
aware, for the chief Nondwana and his son were both
well known to him. That would give him a little over
six weeks. Escape? Nothing short of a miracle
could effect that, he told himself, remembering the
immense tract of desolate country surrounding the
fastnesses of the Ba-gcatya, and the ferocious canni-
bal hordes which lay beyond these, and who indeed
would wreak a vengence of the most barbarous kind
upon their old enemy and scourge, the slaver-chief,
did they find him alone, and to that extent no longer
formidable, in their midst.
The friendship of the king? No. That was based
on superstition, even as the friendship of the entire
nation. Even it was assumed for an end. Again,
should he boldly challenge the pretensions of the
demon-god, whatever it might be, and asserting him-
self to be the real one, offer to slay the horror in open
conflict? Not a moment's reflection was needed,
however, to convince him of the utter impracticability
of this scheme. The cherished superstition of a great
nation was not to be uprooted in any such rough-and-
ready fashion. The only way of escape left open to
him was that of death death swift and sudden the
death of the suicide to escape the greater horror.
But from this he shrank. The grim hardness of his
255
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
recent training had nerved him rather to face peril
than to avoid it. He did not care to contemplate such
a way out of the dilemma. He was cornered. There
was no way of escape.
And then, as he walked thus, thinking, and think-
ing hard, in the fierce, desperate, clearheadedness of a
strong, cool-nerved man face to face with despair, a
voice a female voice, lifted in song sounded across
his path, nearer and nearer. And now a wave of hope,
of relief, surged through Laurence Stanninghame's
heart, for there flooded in upon him, as with an in-
spiration, a way out of the situation. For he knew
both the voice and the singer, and at that moment
a turn in the bushes brought the latter and himself
face to face.
256
CHAPTER XXIII.
LINDELA.
A WOMAN, young, tall, perfectly proportioned, light
of colour, and with the bright and pleasing expression
common among the well-born of the Ba-gcatya
maidens, enhanced by large lustrous eyes, lips parted
in a smile half-startled, half-coquettish, revealing a
row of teeth of dazzling whiteness of unrivalled even-
ness. She wore a mutya or skirt of beautiful bead-
work, and a soft robe of dressed fawn-skin but half
concealed the splendid outlines of her frame. Withal
there was an aspect of dignity in her erect carriage,
and the pose of her head, which the Grecian effect of
the impiti, or cone into which her hair was gathered
above the scalp, went far to enhance. She was not
alone two other young women, also attractive of
aspect, being in attendance upon her, though these
held somewhat in the background.
" Greeting, Nyonyoba," she began, in a sweet and
musical voice. " I was startled for a moment here
where I expected to find none."
" To thee, greeting, daughter of the great," returned
Laurence, for this girl was a princess of the highest
rank in the nation, being, in fact, a daughter of Nond-
wana the king's brother that same chief whose son's
accession to manhood was to be the occasion of his
own departure to another sphere. Nor was it, indeed,
the first time these two had talked together.
257
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
"And why are you sad and heavy of countenance,
Nyonyoba? Was the hunt bad the game scarce?"
she went on, with a quick searching glance into his
eyes.
" Not so," he answered. " Those who are with me
bring on much ivory for the king's treasury. For
yourself, Lindela, I found a bright-plumaged and rare
bird, which I will stuff and set up for you."
The girl uttered a cry of delight, and her face
brightened. It so happened that Laurence was some-
thing of a taxidermist, and had already stuffed a few
birds and small animals for the chief's daughter, who
was as delighted with her increasing " museum " as
any child could have been. Now, in her unfeigned
glee over the prospect of a new specimen, Lindela
looked extremely attractive; and noting it, an uncon-
scious softness had crept into the man's tone. Even
the girls behind noticed it, and whispered to each
other, sniggering:
" Haul Isityeli! Quite a wooer! Nyonyoba is
hoeing up new land."
" Withdraw a little from these, Lindela," he said in
a lowered tone; " I would talk."
The chief's daughter made a barely perceptible
sign, but her attendants understood it, and remained
where they stood.
" The success or failure of a hunt is a small thing.
Such does not render a man heavy of countenance,"
he went on, when they were beyond earshot.
" What does, then? " said the girl, raising her large
eyes swiftly to his.
" Sorrow parting. Such are the things which
258
LINDELA.
make life dark. I have dwelt long among your
people, and at the prospect of leaving them my heart
is sore."
As the last words left his lips, Laurence learned in
just one brief flash of a second exactly what he wanted
to know. But the look of startled pain in Lindela's
face gave way to one of surprise.
" Of leaving them? " she echoed. " Has the Great
Great One, then, ordered you to begone, Nyonyoba? "
" Not yet. But it will be so. Listen! At the full
of the second moon."
A cry escaped her. She understood. For a mo-
ment the self-control of her savage ancestors entirely
forsook her. She became the child of nature all
human.
" It shall not be! It shall not be! "
The passion, the abandonment in the soft, liquid
Zulu tone in the large eyes, transforming the whole
attractive face touched even him penetrated even
the scaly armour which encased his hardened heart.
Considerations of expediency no longer reigned there
alone as he stood face to face with the chief's daugh-
ter. She was a magnificent specimen of womanhood,
he decided, gazing with unfeigned admiration upon
her splendid frame, upon the unconscious grace of her
every movement.
" If I go, I return not ever," he went on, resolved
to strike while the iron was hot to strike as hard as
he knew how. " Yet how to remain for the brother
of the king is so great a chief that he who would ap-
proach him with lobola * would need to own half the
* Payment of cattle made to the father of a girl sought in marriage.
259
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
wealth of the Ba-gcatya people. Now I, who owned
much wealth, am yet poor to-day, for the Ba-gcatya
have killed all my slaves, and the king has taken my
ivory and goods."
The girl's eyes sparkled. Perhaps she too had
learned something she wanted to know; indeed, it
must have been so, for her whole face was lit up with
a gladsome light, a wonderfully attractive light.
" Perchance the king will return some of it," she
said. " Yet you are a white man, and strong, Ny-
onyoba are all white men like you, I wonder? and
can overcome all difficulties. Listen! You shall not
leave us at the full of the second moon. Now, fare-
well and forget not my name."*
There was a grandeur of resolution in her tone, in
her glance, as she uttered these last words, her lus-
trous eyes, wide and clear, meeting his full. Lau-
rence, standing there gazing after the tall, retreating
form of the chiefs daughter, felt something like a
sense of exultation stealing over him. His scheme
seemed already to glow with success. He had sus-
pected for some time that Lindela regarded him with
more than favour; and indeed, while weighing the
prospect of casting in his lot with the Ba-gcatya, he
had already in his own mind marked her out to share
it. Now, however, the thing had become imperative.
In order to save not merely his life, but to escape a
fate which brooded over him with a peculiarly haunt-
ing horror, he had got to do this thing, to take to
wife, according to the customs of the Ba-gcatya, the
*" Lindela" means to "wait for" in the sense of "to watch
for," hence the full significance of the parting remark.
260
LINDELA.
daughter of Nondwana, the niece of the king. Then
not a man in the nation dare raise a hand against
him; and the dour priesthood of the Spider might
look further for their victim and might find in their
selection one much more remote from the throne.
And now that he was face to face with the prospect,
it struck him as anything but an unpleasing one.
Such an alliance would place him among the most
powerful chiefs in the land. All the ambition in the
adventurer's soul warmed to the prospect. To be
high in authority among this fine race, part-ruler
over this splendid country, sport in abundance, and
that of the most enthralling kind war occasionally;
to dwell, too, in the strong revivifying air of these
grand uplands ! Why, a man might live forever under
such conditions.
And the other side of the picture what was it?
Even if he returned to civilization even if it were
possible he would now return almost as poor as he
had quitted it, to the old squalid life, with its shifts
and straits. His whole soul sickened over the recol-
lection. Nothing could compensate for such noth-
ing. Besides, put nakedly, it amounted to this: His
experiences of respectability had been disastrous.
They had been such as to draw out all that was
latently evil in his nature, and, indeed, to implant
within him traits which at one time he could never
have suspected himself capable of harbouring. Physi-
cally it had reduced his system to the lowest. All
things considered, he could not think that the ad-
venturous life hard, unscrupulous, lawless as it was
had changed him for the worse. It had developed
261
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
many good traits, and had enabled him to forget many
evil ones.
" I would have speech with the king."
Those who sentinelled the gate of the great kraal,
Imvungayo, conferred a moment among themselves,
and immediately two men were sent to learn the royal
pleasure as to the request. Laurence Stanninghame,
awaiting their return, was taciturn and moody, and
as he gazed around his one thought was lest his
scheme should miscarry. The sun had just gone
below the western peaks, and a radiant afterglow lin-
gered upon the dazzling snow ridges, flooding some
with a roseate hue, while others seemed dyed blood-
red. Long files of women, calabash on head, were
wending up from the stream, singing as they walked,
or exchanging jests and laughter, their soft, rich
voices echoing melodiously upon the evening stillness.
Even the shrill " moo " of cattle, and the deep-toned
voices of men mellowed by distance, came not in-
harmoniously from the smaller kraals which lay
scattered along the hillside; and but for the shining
spearheads and tufted shields of the armed guard in
the great circle of Imvungayo, the scene was a most
perfect one of pastoral simplicity and peace. And
then, as the gray, pearly lights of evening, merging
into the sombre shades of twilight, drew a deepening
veil over this scene of fair and wondrous beauty, once
more the words of Lindela, in all their unhesitating
reassurance, seemed to sound in this man's ears, re-
kindling the fire of hope within his soul, perchance
rekindling fire of a different nature.
262
LINDELA.
" The Great Great One awaits you, Nyonyoba."
Laurence started from his reverie, and, accom-
panied by two of the guards, proceeded across the
great open space in silence. At the gate of the
isigodhlo, an inclosure made of the finest woven
grass, and containing the royal dwellings, he depos-
ited his rifle on the ground, and, deliberately unbuck-
ling the strap of his revolver holster, placed that
weapon behind the other; and thus unarmed, accord-
ing to strict Zulu etiquette, he prepared to enter. An
inceku, or royal household servant, received him at
the gate, and the guards having saluted and with-
drawn, he was ushered by the attendant into the
king's presence.
The royal house, a large, dome-shaped, circular hut,
differed in no respect from the others, save that it
was of somewhat greater size. Laurence, standing
upright within it, could make out three seated figures,
the shimmer of their head-rings and the occasional
shine of eyeballs being the only distinct feature about
them. Then somebody threw an armful of dry twigs
upon the fire which burned in the centre, and as the
light crackled up he saw before him the king and the
two fighting indunas, Ngumunye and Silawayo.
" Bayete! " he exclaimed, lifting his hat courteously.
" I behold you, Nyonyoba," replied the king.
"Welcome be seated."
With a murmur of acknowledgment, Laurence
subsided upon the grass mat which had been placed
for him by the inceku, who had followed him in.
Then there was silence for a few moments, while a
couple of women entered, bearing large clay bowls of
263
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
tyivala, or native beer; and the liquor having been
apportioned out according to etiquette, the attend-
ants withdrew, leaving Laurence alone with the king
and the two indunas.
" And the hunt, has it been propitious?" began
Tyisandhlu presently.
" It has. Ten tusks of ivory are even now being
brought in," replied Laurence. " Also an unusually
fine leopard skin which fell to my bullet, and which
I would beg the king to accept."
" You are a great hunter, Nyonyoba a very great
one. Whau! The Ba-gcatya will become too rich
if you tarry long among us," said Tyisandhlu quiz-
zically, but evidently pleased at the news. " We shall
soon be able to arm the whole nation with the fire-
weapons, now that we have so much ivory to trade
with the northern peoples."
Something in the words struck Laurence. " If
you tarry long among us," the king had said. Even
these were ominous, and made in favour of the sinister
design he had so accidentally discovered. Yet could
this courtly hospitality, of which he was the object,
indeed cover such a horrible purpose? Well, he
dare not bolster himself up with any hope to the con-
trary, for now many and many an incident returned
to his mind, little understood at the time, but, in the
light of the conversation he had overheard, as clear
as noonday. The fear, the anxiety, too, which had
flashed over the face of Lindela at his significant
words, proved that the ordeal through which it was
designed to pass him was a real and a terrible one.
264
LINDELA.
Through her, and her only, lay his chance of escap-
ing it.
" I am glad the king is pleased," he went on, " for
I would fain tarry among the Ba-gcatya forever.
And, becoming one of that people, shall not all my
efforts turn towards rendering it a great people? "
A hum of astonishment escaped the two indunas,
and Laurence thought to detect the same significant
look on both their faces. Then he added:
" And those whom I have already taught in the
use of the fire-weapon, they are strong in it, and
reliable?"
" That is so," assented Tyisandhlu.
" And I have taught many the ways of the chase,
no less than the more skilled ways of war that too
is true, O Burning Wind?"
" That too is true," repeated the king.
" Good. And now I would crave a boon. While
the People of the Spider have become more formid-
able in war, while the ivory comes pouring into the
king's treasury, faster than ever it did before, so that
soon there will be enough to buy fire-weapons for the
whole nation, I who brought all this to pass remain
poor am the poorest in the nation and the
daughters of the Ba-gcatya are fair exceeding fair."
" Whan! " exclaimed the two indunas simulta-
neously, with their hands to their mouths. But
Tysandhlu said nothing, though a very humorous
gleam seemed to steal over his fine features in the
firelight.
"The daughters of the Ba-gcatya are exceeding
265
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
fair," repeated Laurence, " but I, the poorest man in
the nation, cannot take wives. For how shall I go to
the father of a girl and say, ' Lo, I desire thy daugh-
ter to wife, but my slaves have been killed, and my
other possessions are now the property of the king;
yet inasmuch as I cannot offer lobola, having nothing,
give her to me on the same terms?' My house will
not grow great in that way. Say now, Ndabezita,
will it? "
" I think not, Nyonyoba," answered the king,
struggling to repress a laugh. " Yet perhaps a way
may be found out of that difficulty, for in truth thou
hast done us good service already. But we will talk
further as to this matter in the future. For the
present, here waits outside one who will show thee
what thou wilt be glad to see."
Quick to take this hint of dismissal, Laurence now
arose, saluted the king, and retired, not ill-pleased
so far with the results of his interview. For in the
circumlocutory native way of dealing with matters of
importance, Tyisandhlu had received with favour his
request, preferred after the same method, that some
of his possessions should be restored to him. Then
he would offer lobola for Lindela, and
" I accompany you farther, Nyonyoba, at the word
of the Great Great One, by whose light we live."
The voice of the inceku who had ushered him forth
broke in upon his meditations. This man, instead of
leaving him at the gate of the isigodhlo, still kept at
his side, and Laurence, manifesting no curiosity, hav-
ing picked up his weapons where he had left them,
accompanied his guide in silence.
266
LINDELA.
They passed out of Imvungayo, and after walking
nearly a mile came to a large kraal, which Laurence
recognized as that of Nondwana, the king's brother.
And now, for the first time, he felt a thrill of interest
surge through him. Nondwana's kraal! Had Tyis-
andhlu, divining his wishes, indeed forestalled them?
But this idea was as quickly dismissed as formulated.
The king had probably ordered that one or two of the
Ba-gcatya girls should be allotted to him possibly
chosen from those in attendance upon the royal wives.
His parting remark seemed to point that way.
" Enter," said the inceku, halting before one of the
huts. " Enter, and good go with thee. I return to
the king. Fare thee well ! "
Laurence bent down and pushed back the wicker
slab that formed the door of the hut, and, having
crawled through the low, beehive-like entrance, stood
upright within, and instinctively kicked the fire into
a blaze. And then, indeed, was amazement wild,
incredulous, bewildering amazement his dominant
feeling, for by the light thus obtained he saw that
the hut was tenanted by two persons. No feminine
voice, however, was raised to bid him welcome in the
soft tongue of the Ba-gcatya, but a loud, full-
flavoured, masculine English one:
" Stanninghame by the great Lord Harry! Oh,
kind Heavens, am I drunk or dreaming? "
267
CHAPTER XXIV.
AS FROM THE DEAD.
" THERE, there, Holmes. Do you quite intend to
maim a chap for life, or what? " exclaimed Laurence,
liberating, with an effort, his hand from the other's
wringing grasp. " And Hazon, too? In truth, life
is full of surprises. How are you, Hazon? "
" So so," was the reply, as Hazon, who had been
biding the evaporation of his younger friend's effusive-
ness, now came forward. But his handshake was
characteristic of the man, for it was as though they
had parted only last week, and that but temporarily.
"And is it really you yourself, old chap?" rattled
on Holmes. " It's for all the world as if you had
risen from the dead. Why, we never expected to
set eyes on you again in life did we, Hazon? "
" Not much," assented that worthy laconically.
" Well, I can say the same as regards yourselves,"
rejoined Laurence. " What in the world made them
give you quarter? "
" Don't know," answered Hazon. " We managed
to get together, back to back, we two, and were fight-
ing like cats. Holmes got a shot on the head with
a club that sent him down, and I got stuck full of
assegais till I couldn't see. The next thing I knew
was that we were being carted along in the middle of
a big impi Heaven knew where. One thing, we were
268
AS FROM THE DEAD.
both alive alive and kicking, too. As soon as we
were able to walk they assegaied our bearers, and
made us walk."
" Don't you swallow all that, Stanninghame," cut
in Holmes. " He fought, standing over me fought
like any devil, the Ba-gcatya say, although he makes
out now it was all playful fun."
" Well, for the matter of that, we had to fight," re-
joined Hazon tranquilly. " Where have you been all
this time, Stanninghame?"
" Here, at Imvungayo. And you two? "
" Shot if I know. They kept us at some place away
in the mountains. Only brought us here a few days
back."
" They won't let us out in the daytime," chimed in
Holmes. " And it's getting deadly monotonous.
But tell us, old chap, how it is they didn't stick
you?"
This, however, Laurence, following out a vein of
vague instinct, had decided not to do, wherefore he
invented some commonplace solution. And it was
with strange and mingled feelings he sat there listen-
ing to his old confederates. For months he had not
heard one word of the English tongue, and now these
two, risen, as it were, from the very grave, seemed
to bring back all the past, which, under novel and
strange conditions, had more and more been fading
into the background. He was even constrained to
admit to himself that such feelings were not those of
unmingled joy. He had almost lost all inclination to
escape from among this people, and now these two, by
the very associations which their presence recalled,
26f
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
were likely to unsettle him again, possibly to his own
peril and undoing. Anyway, he resolved to say noth-
ing as to the incident of " The Sign of the Spider."
" Well, you seem to have got round them better
than we did, Stanninghame," said Hazon, with a
glance at the Express rifle and revolver wherewith
the other was armed. " We have hardly been allowed
so much as a stick."
" So? Well, I've been teaching some of them to
shoot. That may have had a little to do with it. In
fact, I've been laying myself out to make thoroughly
the best of the situation."
" That's sound sense everywhere," rejoined Hazon.
<7 You can't get Holmes here to see it, though. He's
wearing out his soul-case wanting to break away."
This was no more than the truth. Laurence, seated
there, narrowly watching his old comrades, was
swift to notice that whereas these months of captivity
and suspense had left Hazon the same cool, saturnine,
philosophical being he had first known him, upon
Holmes they had had quite a different effect. There
was a restless, eager nervousness about the younger
man; a sort of straining to break away even, as the
more seasoned adventurer had described it. The fact
was, he was getting desperately home-sick.
" I wish I had never had anything to do with this
infernal business," he now bursts forth petulantly.
" I swear I'd give all we have made to be back safe
and snug in Johannesburg, with white faces around
us, even though I were stony broke."
" Especially one ' white face,' " bantered Laurence.
" Well, keep up your form, Holmes. You may be
270
AS FROM THE DEAD.
back there yet, safe and sound, and not stony broke
either."
" No, no. There is a curse upon us, as I said all
along. No good will come to us through such gains.
We shall never return never."
And then Laurence looked across at Hazon, and
the glance, done into words, read : " What the mis-
chief is to be made of such a prize fool as this? "
The night was spent in talking over past experi-
ences, and making plans for the future, as to which
latter Hazon failed not to note, with faint amusement,
blended with complacency, that the disciple had, if
anything, surpassed his teacher. In other words,
Laurence entered into such plans with a luke-warm-
ness which would have been astonishing to the super-
ficial judgment, but was not so to that of his listener.
Nondwana, the brother of the king, was seated
among a group of his followers in the gate as Lau-
rence went forth the next morning to return to his own
quarters. This chief, though older than Tyisandhlu
in years, was not the son of the principal wife of their
common father, wherefore Tyisandhlu, who was, had,
in accordance with native custom, succeeded. There
had been whisperings that Nondwana had attempted
to oppose the accession, and very nearly with success ;
but whether from motives of policy or generosity,
Tyisandhlu had foreborne to take his life. The for-
mer motive may have counted, for Nondwana exer-
cised a powerful influence in the nation. In aspect,
he was a tall, fine, handsome man, with all the dignity
of manner which characterized his royal brother, yet
271
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
there was a sinister expression ever lurking in his face
a cruel droop in the corner of the mouth.
" Greeting, Nyonyoba. And is it good once mora
to behold a white face? " said the chief, a veiled irony
lurking beneath the outward geniality of his tone.
" To behold the face of a friend once more is always
good, Branch of a Royal Tree," returned Laurence,
sitting down among the group to take snuff.
" Even when it is that of one risen from the dead? "
" But here it was not so, Ndabezita. My * Spider '
told me that these were all the time alive," rejoined
Laurence, with mendacity on a truly generous scale.
" Ha! thy Spider? Yet thou art not of the People
of the Spider."
" But I bear the sign," touching his breast. " There
are many things made clear to me, which may or
may not be set forward in the light of all at the
fall of the second moon. Farewell now, Son of the
Great."
The start of astonishment, the murmur which ran
round the group, was not lost upon him. It was all
confirmatory of what he had heard. And then, as he
walked back to his tent in Silawayo's kraal, it
occurred to Laurence that he had probably made a
false move. Nondw r ana, who, of course, was not
ignorant of his daughter's partiality, would almost
certainly decide that Lindela had betrayed the secret
and sinister intent to its unconscious object; and in
that event, how would it fare with her? He felt more
than anxious. The king might take long in deciding
whether to restore his property or not, and etiquette
forbade him to refer to the matter again at any rate
272
AS FROM THE DEAD.
for some time to come. That Nondwana might de-
mand too much lobola, or possibly refuse it altogether
as coming from him, was a contingency which,
strange to say, completely escaped Laurence's schem-
ing mind.
" Greeting, Nyonyoba. Thy thoughts are deep
ever deep."
The voice, soft, rich, bantering, almost made him
start as he raised his eyes, to meet the glad laughing
ones of the object of his thoughts at that moment,
the chief's daughter.
" What do you here, wandering alone, Lindela? "
he said.
" Ha ha! Now you did well to say my name like
that for does it not answer your question, ' to wait,
to watch for ' ? And what is meant for two ears is
not meant for four or six. I have news, but it is not
good."
They were standing in the dip of the path, where a
little runlet coursed along between high bush-fringed
banks, and the tall, graceful form of the girl stood
out in splendid relief from its background of foliage.
Not only for love had she awaited him hete, for her
eyes were sad and troubled as she narrated her dis-
coveries, which amounted to this: It was next to im-
possible for Laurence to escape the ordeal whatever
it might be. All of weight and position in the nation
were resolved upon it, and none more thoroughly so
than Nondwana. The king himself would be power-
less to save him, even if he wished, and, indeed, why
should he run counter to the desire of a whole nation,
273
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
and that on behalf of a stranger, some time an
enemy?
Laurence, listening, felt his anxiety deepen. The
net was closing in around him, had indeed already
closed, and from it there was no outlet.
" See now, Lindela," he said gravely, his eyes full
upon the troubled face of the girl, " if this thing has
got to be, there is no help for it. And, however it
turns out, the world will go on just the same and the
sun rise and set as before. Why grieve about it? "
" Because I love you love you do you hear? I
know not how it is. We girls of the Ba-gcatya do not
love not like this. We like to be married to men
who are great in the nation powerful indunas if not
too old, or those who have much cattle, or who will
name us for their principal wife; but we know not
how to love. Yet you have taught me, Nyonyoba.
Say now, is it through the magic of the white people
you have done it? "
" It may be so," replied Laurence, smiling queerly
to himself, as he thought how exactly, if uncon-
sciously, this alluring child of nature had described
her civilized sisters. Then his face became alert and
watchful. He was listening intently.
" I, too, heard something," murmured Lindela,
scarcely moving her lips. " I fear lest we have been
overlooked. Now, fare thee well, for I must return.
But my ears are ever open to what men say, and my
father talks much, and talks loud. It may be that I
may learn yet more. But, Nyonyoba, delay not in
thy first purpose, lest it be too late; and remember,
Nondwana has a covetous hand. Fare thee well."
274
AS FROM THE DEAD.
Left alone, Laurence thought he might just as well
make sure that no spy had been watching them. Yet
though he examined the banks of the stream for
some little distance around, he could find no trace of
any human presence, no mark even, however faint, of
human foot. Still, as he gained his own quarters in
Silawayo's kraal, a presentiment lay heavy upon him
a weird, boding presentiment of evil to come of
evil far nearer at hand than he had hitherto deemed.
Long and hard he slept, for he was weary with
wakefulness and anxiety. And when he awoke at
dusk, intending to seek an interview with the king,
he beheld that which in no wise tended to allay his
fears. For as he drew nearer to Imvungayo there
issued from its gate a crowd of figures of black, gro-
tesque, horrible figures, and in the midst a man, whom
they were dragging along in grim silence, even as they
had hauled Lutali to his unknown doom, and as they
disappeared into the gathering darkness, Laurence
knew only too well that here was another victim
another hideous sacrifice to the grisly and mysterious
demon-god. No wonder his blood grew chill within
him. Would he be the next?
" And you would still become one of us, Nyon-
yoba?"
" I would, Great Great One ; and to this end have
I sent much ivory, and many things the white people
prize, including three new guns and much ammuni-
tion, to Nondwana."
"Ha! Nondwana's hand is large, and opens wide,"
said the king, with a hearty chuckle. " Yet Lindela
275
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
is a sprig of a mighty tree. And I think, Nyonyoba,
you yourself are sprung from such a root."
" That is no lie, Ruler of the Wise. As a man's
whole height is to the length of half his leg, so is the
length of my house to that of the kings of the
Ba-gcatya, or even to that of Senzangakona * himself."
" Ha! That may well be. Thou hast a look that
way."
This conversation befell two days after the events
just described. The king had refused him an audi-
ence on that evening, and indeed since until now.
But in the meantime, by royal orders, a great portion
of the plunder taken from the slave-hunters' camp
had been restored to him, considerably more, indeed,
than he had expected. And now he and Tyisandhlu
were seated once more together in the royal dwelling,
this time alone.
" But to be sprung from an ancient tree avails a
man nothing in my country if he is poor," went on
Laurence. " Rather is it a disadvantage, and he had
better have been born among the meaner sort. That
is why I have found my way hither, Ndabezita."
"That is why? And you have gained the desired
riches? " said the king, eyeing him narrowly.
" I had nearly, when the Ba-gcatya fell upon my
camp, and killed my people and my slaves. Now,
having lost all, I care not to return to my own land."
" But could you return rich you would care so to
return?"
"That is so, Root of a Royal Tree. With large
* Founder of the Zulu dynasty, and of course patriarchally greater
than the royal house of this Zulu-originated tribe.
276
AS FROM THE DEAD.
possessions it is indeed a pleasant land to dwell in
with no possessions a man might often think long-
ingly of the restful sleep of death."
" That may well be," said Tyisandhlu thoughtfully.
" The cold and the gloom and the blackness, the fogs
and the smoke the mean and horrible-looking people
who go to make up the larger portion of its inhabi-
tants. Whan, Nyonyoba, I know more of your white
people and their country than anyone here dreams,
and it is as you say. Without that which should
raise him .above such horrors as this, a man might as
well be dead."
" Wherefore I prefer to live in the land of the Ba-
gcatya rather than die in my own. But whoever
brought hither that description of our land told a
wonderfully true tale, Ruler of the Great."
Tyisandhlu made no reply, but reaching out his
hand he took up a whistle and blew a double note
upon it. Immediately there entered an inceku.
" Let no man approach until this note shall again
sound," said the king. " Preserve clear a wide space
around, lest the ear that opens too wide be removed
from its owner's head. Go."
The man saluted humbly and withdrew. And then
for long did they sit together and talk in a low tone,
the barbarian monarch and the white adventurer and
the subject of their talk seemed fraught with some
surprise to the latter, but with satisfaction to both.
" See now, Nyonyoba," concluded the king.
" They have brought you here, here whence no man
ever returned; and you would become one of us*
Well, be it so. There is that about you I trust."
277
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" Whence no man ever returned? " echoed Lau-
rence.
" Surely. Ha! A white man found his way hither
once, but he was a preacher and I love not such.
He never returned."
" But what of my two friends? You will not harm
them, Ndabezita, because they are my friends, and
we have fought together many a long year," urged
Laurence.
" I will spare them for that reason. They shall be
led from the country with their eyes covered, lest they
find the way back again. But if they do they
likewise shall never depart from it. And now, Nyon-
yoba, all I have told you is between ourselves alone.
Breathe not a whisper of it or anything about me even
to your friends. For the present, farewell, and good
fortune be yours."
278
CHAPTER XXV.
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
Now, if Laurence Stanninghame's prospects were
brightening, and his lines beginning to fall in pleasant
places, relatively speaking, that is, for everything is
relative in the conditions of life, the same held not
good as regards the other twain of our trio of adven-
turers. Both were kept prisoners in Nondwana's
kraal, and, save that they were not ill-treated, no es-
pecial consideration was shown them. They were
allowed to wander about the open space outside, but
watchful eyes were ever upon them, and did they ven-
ture beyond certain limits, they were speedily made
aware of the fact. No such distractions as joining in
the hunting parties, or coming and going at will such
as their more fortunate comrade enjoyed, were allowed
them, and against the deadly monotony of the life in
conjunction with a boding suspense as to their ultimate
fate did Holmes* restless spirit mightily chafe; in-
deed, at times he felt sore and resentful towards Lau-
rence. At such times Hazon's judicious counsel
would step in.
" Shall we never make a philosopher of you,
Holmes? " he would say. " Do you think, for in-
stance, that Stanninghame, faring no better than our-
selves, would improve our own lot any? No; rely
upon it, his standing in with the king and the rest of
them is doing us no harm in the long run."
279
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
"I suppose you're right, Hazon; and it's beastly
selfish of one to look upon it any other way," poor
Holmes would reply wearily. " But, O Lord, this is
deadly work. Is there no way of getting away from
here?"
" Not any at present. Yet you don't suppose I'm
keeping my eyes or ears shut, do you? We must
watch our chances, and see and hear all we can. I
believe Tyisandhlu is a decent fellow all round, and
mind, you do come across plenty of pretty good fel-
lows even among savages, whatever bosh some men
may talk to the contrary. But I don't care for Nond-
wana. I believe he'd make short work of us if he
dared. Possibly the king may be watching his
opportunity of smuggling us out of the country. At
any rate, I don't think he means us any harm, if only
by reason of the astonishing fancy he seems to have
taken to Stanninghame ! "
This, as we know, was very near the truth, though
far more so than the speakers guessed. For Lau-
rence, moved both by inclination and expediency, had
rigidly adhered to his promise of secrecy. If it
seemed hard that he should be compelled to shut his
companions out of his entire confidence, he consoled
himself with the certainty that their admission into
it, though it might encourage them mentally, could
in no wise benefit them materially very much the
reverse, indeed, for it would probably bring about
their destruction.
" Well, if anything is going to be done, it had
better be soon or not at all. It wouldn't take much
to send me clean off my chump," said Holmes de-
280
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
jectedly. " Every day I feel more inclined to break
out to run amuck in a crowd, if only for the sake of a
little excitement. Anything for a little excitement! "
The two were strolling up and down outside Nond-
wana's kraal. It was a still, hot morning; oppressive
as though a storm were brooding. A filmy haze lay
upon the lower valley bottom, and the ground gave
forth a shimmer of heat. Even the amphitheatre of
dazzling snow-peaks omitted to look cool against the
cloudless blue, while the coppery-terraced cliffs seemed
actually to glow as though red hot.
" I hate this," growled Holmes, looking around
upon as magnificent a scene of nature's grandeur as
the earth could show, " positively hate it. I shall
never be able to stand the sight of a mountain again
as long as I live once we are out of this. Oh,
Heavens, look! What a brute! "
His accents of shuddering disgust were explained.
Something was moving among the stones in front
something with great, hairy, shoggling legs, and a
body the size of a thrush and much the same colour.
A spider, could it be, of such enormous size? Yet
it was; and as truly repulsive and horrible-looking a
monster as ever made human flesh creep at beholding.
Whack! The stone flung by Holmes struck the
ground beside the creature; struck it hard.
" Hold, you infernal fool," half snarled, half yelled
Hazon. But before he could arrest the other's arm,
whack! went a second stone. The aim was true, the
grisly beast, crushed and maimed, lay contracting and
unfolding its horrible legs in the muscular writhings
of its death throes.
281
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" What's the row, eh?" grumbled Holmes, staring
open-mouthed, under the impression that his comrade
had gone mad, and at first sight not without reason,
for Hazon's face had gone a swarthy white, and his
eyes seemed to glare forth from it like blazing coals.
" Row? You fool, you've signed our death-war-
rant, that's all. Here, quick, pretend to be throwing
stones on to it, as if we were playing at some game.
Don't you see? The name of this tribe People of the
Spider! They venerate the beast. If we have been
seen, nothing can save us."
" Oh, Heavens! " cried Holmes, aghast as the whole
ugly truth dawned upon him, setting to with a will
to pile stones upon the remains of the slain and
shattered monster.
" Too late ! " growled Hazon. " We have been
seen! Look."
Several women were running stealthily and in alarm
towards the gate, and immediately a frightful uproar
arose from within. Armed with sticks and spears,
the warriors came pouring forth, and in a moment
had surrounded the two a howling, infuriated,
threatening mob.
Although expecting nothing less than instant death,
with the emergency Hazon's coolness had returned.
He stood in the midst of the appalling uproar,
apparently unmoved. Holmes, on the other hand,
looked wildly around, but less in fear than in despera-
tion. He was calculating his chances of being able to
snatch a weapon from one of them, and to lay
about him in the last fierce battle for life. " Anything
for a little excitement!" he had said. In very truth
282
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
his aspiration was realized. There was excitement
enough in the brandished spears and blazing eyeballs,
in the infuriated demoniacal faces, in the deafening,
roaring clamour.
" This is no matter for you," cried Hazon in firm,
ringing tones. " Take us to the king. We can ex-
plain. The affair was an accident."
At this the ferocious tumult redoubled. An acci-
dent! They had lifted their hand against the great
tutelary Spider that guarded Nondwana's house! An
accident!
"Hold! To the king let them be taken!" inter-
posed a strong, deep voice. And extending his hands,
as though to arrest the uplifted weapons, Nondwana
himself stalked into the circle.
There was no gainsaying the mandate of one so
great. Weapons were lowered, but still vociferating
horrible threats, the crowd, with the two offenders in
its midst, moved in the direction of Imvungayo.
But it seemed as though the wild, pealing shouts
of rage and consternation were a very tocsin ; for now
from every kraal, near and far, the inhabitants came
surging forth, streaming down the hillsides over the
face of the plain like swarming ants and before they
reached Imvungayo the two whites seemed to move
in the midst of a huge sea of gibing, infuriated faces,
as the dark crowd, gathering volume, poured onward,
rending the air with deafening shouts of execration
and menace. But the royal guards barred the gate,
suffering no entrance save on the part of the two
white men, together with Nondwana and a few of the
greater among the people.
283
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" This is the tightest place we have been in yet,"
murmured Hazon. " To tread on the superstitions
of any race is to thrust one's head into the jaws of a
starved lion."
"D their filthy superstition," said Holmes,
savagely desperate. " Well, I did the thing, so I sup-
pose I shall be the one to suffer."
The other said nothing. He had a shrewd sus-
picion that more than one life would be required in
atonement. But he and death had stared each other
in the face so frequently that once more or less did
not greatly matter.
On learning the cause of the tumult, Tyisandhlu
had come forth, and now sat, as he frequently did, to
administer justice at the head of the great central
space. When the shouts of " bonga! " which greeted
his presence had subsided, he ordered that the two
whites should be brought forward.
This was the first time the latter had seen the king,
and now, as they beheld his stately, commanding bear-
ing, calm and judicial, both of them, Holmes
especially, began to hope. They would explain the
matter, and offer ample apologies. The owner of
that fine, intellectual countenance, savage though he
might be called, he, surely, had a soul above the de-
based superstitions of his subjects. Hitherto he had
spared their lives surely now he would not sacrifice
them to the clamour of a mob. Yet, as Hazon had
said, to tread on the superstitions of any race was the
most fatal thing on earth.
"What is this that has been done?" spoke the
king, when he had heard all that the accusers had to
284
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
say. " Surely no such deed has been wrought among
us since the Ba-gcatya have been a nation."
There was a sternness, a menace even, in the full,
deep voice, that dispelled all hope in the minds of the
two thus under judgment. They had committed the
one unpardonable sin. In vain Hazon elaborately ex-
plained the whole affair, diplomatically setting forth
that the act being accidental, and done by strangers
and white people, in ignorance, no ill-luck need be-
fall the nation, as might be the case were the symbol
of its veneration offended by its own people. The
voice of the king was more stern than before almost
jeering.
" Accidental ! " he repeated. " Even though it be
so, accidents often bring greater evil in their results
than the most deliberate wrong-doing for such is the
rule of life."
"That is so!" buzzed the indunas grouped on
either side of the king. " Au! hear the wisdom of
the Burning North Wind! "
" Well, then, in this matter atonement must be
made. It appears that one only was concerned in it,
and that one is Nomtyeketye."
This was the somewhat uncomplimentary nickname
by which Holmes was known, bestowed upon him on
account of his talkative tendencies as contrasted with
the laconic sententiousness of Hazon.
" I rule, therefore," went on the king, " that
Nomtyeketye be taken hence to where atonement is
offered. The other may depart from among us to
his own land."
A shout of approval rose from the vast crowd with-
285
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
out as the decision became known. Some there were
who clamoured for two victims but the king's de-
cision was not lightly to be questioned. And before
the shout had died into a murmur the whole multitude
of hideous black figures in their weird disguise came
bounding across the open space to seize their victim.
But before they could surround the latter an un-
looked-for interruption occurred.
" Hold! " cried a loud voice. " I have a favour to
ask the king. I, who bear the Sign!" And Lau-
rence, who in the midst of one of the listening groups
had been unseen hitherto, now came forward, none
hindering, and stood before the king.
A deep silence was upon all. Every head was bent
forward. The frightful priesthood of the demon
paused, with staring eyes, to wait on what new turn
events would take.
" Say on, Nyonyoba," said Tyisandhlu shortly,
looking anything but pleased at the interruption.
" It is this, O Burning Wind. Let Nomtyeketye
return to his own people. I will take his place."
"You?" exclaimed the king, as a gasp of amaze-
ment shivered through the listeners.
" Yes, I. Hearken, Ndabezita. I it was who
brought him hither. He is young, and his life is all
before him. Mine is all behind me, and lias been no
great gain at that. I will proceed with these "
with a glance in the direction of the blackly horrible
group " to where atonement is offered. But let the
two return together to their own land."
"Pause, Nyonyoba! Pause and think!" said the
king, speaking in a deep and solemn voice. ''That
286
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
which awaits you, if I grant your request, is of no
light order. Men have sought their own death rather
than face it. Pause, I say." Then rapidly, and
speaking very low : " Even I cannot save you there.
It may be that the Sign itself cannot."
Now, what moved him to an act of heroic self-
sacrifice, Laurence Stanninghame hardly knew him-
self. It may have been that he did not appreciate its
magnitude. It may have been that he held more than
a lingering belief that the king would find some secret
means for his deliverance, whereas to his younger
comrade no such way of escape lay open. Or was it
that at this moment certain words, spoken long ago
in warning, now stood forth clear and in flaming
letters upon his brain: "Other men have gone up
country with Hason, but not one of them has ever
returned! " He himself, abiding henceforward among
the Ba-gcatya, and Holmes consigned to the mysteri-
ous doom, would not those warning words be carried
out in all their fell fatality? But that after these years
of hardening in the lurid school of bloodshed and
ruthlessness he should be capable of sacrificing him-
self for another, through motives of impulsive gener-
osity, Laurence could not have brought himself to
believe. Indeed, he could not have defined his own
motives.
" Give me your word, Great Great One, in the sight
of the whole nation," he said in a loud voice, " that
these two shall be suffered to depart unharmed
now, at once and I will take the place of Nomtye-
ketye."
" That will I readily do, Nyonyoba. for I have no
287
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
need of strangers here such as these," answered
Tyisandhlu. Then, sadly, " And you are resolved? "
" I am."
" Then it must be. For ye two, go in peace;
enough shall be given you for your journey."
Holmes, who understood the language very im-
perfectly, had no clear notion, even then, of what had
taken place. But when he saw the gigantic forms in
their black disguise bounding forward to surround
Laurence, he, being otherwise unarmed, instinctively
threw himself into a boxing attitude, which was, un-
der the circumstances, ridiculous, if natural.
" Keep cool, you young idiot," snarled Hazon.
" We're out of this mess better than we deserve."
" Why, what's happened? "
" Stanninghame is acting substitute for you, and
we are to be fired out of the country, which is good
news to you, I take it."
" But I can't allow it! " cried Holmes bewilderedly,
as the truth began to dawn upon him. " No, hang it,
I can't, tell the king, I "
" No good! Keep your hair on! and remember,
too, it's more than probable he won't come to any
harm. He stands in with them too well."
Holmes, more than half reassured, suffered himself
to be persuaded especially as he was powerless to
do anything at all. But whether Hazon believed or
not in what he had just advanced must remain for-
ever locked up as a mystery in the breast of that in-
scrutable individual. One thing, however, he did not
believe in, and that was in he himself suffering for
the foolishness of other people.
288
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
Meanwhile Laurence, in the midst of his disguised
executioners, was pursued by the howling and execra-
tions of the crowds, which parted eagerly to make
way for their passage. Outside on the open plain a
vast mob of women had collected, yelling shrilly at
him and even pelting him with earth and sticks. One
of the latter, thrown at close quarters, hurling over the
heads of his guards, struck him on the shoulder, pain-
fully and hard. He looked up. It had been hurled
by the hand of Lindela; and as he met her eyes full,
the face which he had last looked upon softening and
glowing with the wondrous light of love, was now
wreathed into a horrible grin of hate and savagery.
" Yau! The Spider is hungry! Fare thee well,
Umtagati,"* jeered the chief's daughter shrilly.
* Doer of witchcraft.
289
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
WAS he awake asleep and dreaming or dead?
All these questions did Laurence Stanninghame
ask himself by turn as he recovered his confused and
scattered senses; and there was abundant scope for
such conjecture for, in truth, the place wherein he
found himself was a strange one.
A wall of rock arose on either side of him one
straight, perpendicular, the other overhanging, arch-
ing out above the first. As he lay there in the semi-
gloom, his first thought was that he was in a cave; a
further glance, however, convinced him that the place
was a gigantic fissure or rift. But how had he come
there?
With an effort, for he still fejt strangely languid
and confused, he sent his mind back to the events of
the previous day. Stay, though was it the previous
day? Somehow it seemed much longer ago. He re-
membered the long hurried march into the heart of
the mountains with his gruesome escort. He re-
membered partaking of a plentiful meal and some
excellent corn-beer; this he had done with a view to
keeping up his strength, which he might need to the
full. Then he remembered lio more. The liquor
had been drugged, he decided.
But to what end? To what end, indeed, was he
290
" I AM DYING, BELOVED AND SHALL SOON GO INTO
THE DARK UNKNOWN."
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
there? How had he been brought there? He raised
himself on his elbow and looked around.
He started. A large bundle lay beside him some-
thing rolled up in a native blanket. Speedily undoing
this, he discovered several grass baskets with lids.
These contained pounded corn, such as is eaten with
amati, or curdled milk and, indeed, a large calabash
of the latter, tightly stoppered, was among the stores.
Well, whatever was to become of him, he was not to
starve, anyhow. But was he only being fattened for
a worse fate?
Then a thought struck him, which set all his pulses
tingling into renewed life. He, too, had been sent
out of the country, and these stores were to last him
for, at any rate, part of his journey. True, the
prospect was anything but an exhilarating one, seeing
that he was unarmed, and had but the vaguest idea
ivhich way to turn; that the Ba-gcatya country was
surrounded by ferocious and hostile races. But then,
everything is relative in this world, and to a man
who has spent hours of a long day journeying towards
a mysterious, horrible, and certain death, the dis-
covery of release and life, even with such slender
chances, was joy after the boding dread which those
long hours had held for him. Yes, that was it, of
course. Tyisandhlu had not been faithless to the
friendship between them. While openly consenting
to his sacrifice, for even the king dare not, in such a
matter, run counter to the feelings of the nation,
Tyisandhlu had given secret orders that he should be
smuggled out of the country.
Having arrived at this conclusion, it occurred to
291
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Laurence that he might as well explore a little. He
would leave his stores here for the present; for a
glance served to show that the rift or fissure ended
there, so taking only a handful of the pounded corn,
to eat as he walked, he started at once.
But there was a something, a cold creepiness in the
air perhaps, that quelled much of his new-born hope.
The rift seemed to form a kind of circle, for he walked
on and on, ever trending to the right, never able to
see more than a short distance in front; never able to
behold the sky. There was something silently, horri-
bly eloquent in the grim sameness of those tomblike
walls. Just then, to his relief, the semi-gloom widened
into light. The cliffs no longer overhung each other.
A narrow strip of sky became visible, and, in front,
the open daylight.
But with the joy of the discovery another sight met
his gaze, a sight which sent the blood tingling
through his veins. Yet, at first glance, it was not a
particularly moving one. On the ground, at his feet,
lay two unobtrusive-looking pebbles of a bluish gray.
But as the next moment he held them in his hands,
Laurence knew that he held in a moment what he had
gone through years of privation and ruthless blood-
shed to obtain wealth, to wit. For these two unob-
trusive pebbles were, in fact, splendid diamonds!
More of them? Of course there were. The
exploration could wait a little longer. An accident
might cut him off from this spot might cut him off
from such a chance forever. The hands of the
seasoned adventurer trembled like those of a palsied
old woman as he turned over the loose soil with his
292
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
foot, for instrument of any kind he had none; and in-
deed, his agitation was not surprising, for in less than
an hour Laurence was in possession of eight more
splendid stones as large as the first, besides a number
of small ones. He knew that he held that which
'should enable him to pass the remainder of his life in
wealth and ease, could he once get safe away.
Could he? Ah, there came in the dead weight
the fulfilling of that strange irony of fate which well-
nigh invariably wills that the good of life comes to
us a trifle too late. For his search had brought him
quite into the open day once more. Before him lay
a valley or rather hollow of no great size, and it
was shut in completely walled in by an amphitheatre
of lofty cliffs.
Cliffs on all sides at some points smooth and per-
pendicular, at others actually overhanging, at others,
again, craggy and broken into terraces ; but, even with
the proper appliances, probably unscalable; that de-
tail his practised eye could take in at a glance. How,
then, should he hope to scale them, absolutely devoid,
as he was, of so much as a stick let alone a cord.
A cord? How had he been brought there? Had
he been let down by a cord or brought in by some
secret entrance? the latter appeared more probable;
and that entrance he would find, would find and
traverse, be its risks, be its terrors what they might.
He had that upon him now which rendered life worth
any struggle to preserve.
He stepped forth. The sky was over his head once
more, clear and blue. That was something. By the
slant of the sunrays he judged it must be about the
293
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
middle of afternoon. The floor of the hollow was
bumpy and uneven. Sparse and half-dry grass bents
sprung from the soil, but no larger vegetation no
trees, no brush. Stranger still, there was no sign of
life even of bird or insect life. An evil, haunted
silence seemed to brood over the great, crater-like
hollow.
The silence became weighty, oppressive. Laurence,
in spite of himself, felt it steal upon his nerves, and
began to whistle a lively tune as he walked slowly
around, examining the cliffs, and every crack and
cranny, with critical eye. The echoing notes re-
verberated weirdly among the brooding rocks. Sud-
denly his foot struck something something hard.
He looked down, and could not repress a start. There
at his feet, grinning up at him, lay a human skull
nay, more, a well-nigh complete skeleton.
It was a gruesome find under the circumstances.
Laurence, his nerves unstrung by the effects of the
drug, and recent alternations of exultation and what
was akin to despair, felt his flesh creep. What did
it mean? Why, that no way of escape did this valley
of death afford. This former victim had he been
placed there in the same way as himself, and, all
means of exit failing, had succumbed to starvation
when his provisions were exhausted? It looked that
way. Bending down, he examined this sorry relic of
humanity examined it long and carefully. No bone
was broken, the skeleton was almost complete; where
it was not, the joints had fallen asunder without
wrench, and the smooth round cranium showed not
the slightest sign of abrasion or blow.
294
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
With sinking heart he pursued his search ; yet some-
how his attention now was given but languidly to
potential means of exit which the faces of the cliffs
might afford. Something seemed irresistibly to draw
it to the ground. Ha! that was it. Again that hor-
rid gleam of whitened bones. Another skeleton lay
before him and look, another, and another, at short
distances apart. All these, like the first, were un-
shattered, uninjured; but the whole area here was
strewn with skulls, yellow and brown with age, was
strewn with bones also, mossy, mahogany-hued, and
which crackled under his tread.'
No one could be more ruthless, more callous; no
man could view scenes of cruelty and bloodshed more
unmoved than Laurence Stanninghame, as we have
shown, or bear his part more coolly and effectively
in the fiercest conflict; yet there was something in
these silent human relics lying there bloodless; in the
unnatural, haunted silence of this dreadful death-val-
ley that caused his flesh to creep. Then he noticed
that all were lying along the slope of a ridge which
ran right across the hollow, dividing the floor of the
same into two sections. He must needs go over that
ridge to complete his explorations, yet now he shrank
from it with awe and repugnance which in any other
man he would have defined as little short of terror.
What would await him on the other side?
Well, he must go through with it. Probably he
would find more of such ghastly relics that was all.
But as he stood upon the apex of the ridge, with
pulses somewhat quickened, no whitening bones met
his gaze fixed, dilated as that gaze was. The cliff
295
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
in front he thought to descry some faint chance of
escape there, for its face was terraced and sloping
backward somewhat. Moreover, it was rent by cran-
nies and crevices, which, to a desperate and determined
man, might afford hand and foothold.
And now for the first time it flashed upon Laurence
that the mystery of " The Spider " stood explained.
This horrible hole whence there was no escape
where men were thrust to die by inches as all of these
had died before him the repulsive and blood-sucking
insect was in truth a fitting name allegorically for
such a place, which swallowed up the lives of men.
Besides, for all he knew, the configuration of the crater
might, from above, resemble the tutelary insect of the
Ba-gcatya. Yes; he had solved the mystery, as to
that he was confident the next thing to do was to
find some way out, to break through the fatality of
the place.
For the first time now his shoulder began to feel
stiff and sore, where the stick hurled by Lindela had
struck him. That was a bad preparation for the most
perilous kind of cliff-climbing. Then the incident re-
called to mind Lindela herself. Her sudden change of
front was just such an oddity as any of the half-ironical
incidents which go to make up the sum of life's ex-
periences. Well, savage or civilized, human nature
was singularly alike. A touch of superstition and the
god of yesterday became the demon of to-day.
Thus musing, he came, suddenly and unexpectedly,
upon another skeleton. But the effect of the dis-
covery of this was even more disconcerting than that
of the first. For, around, lay rotting rags of clothing,
296
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
and a gold ornament or two. These remains he
recognized at a glance. They were those of Lutali.
Yes, here was a broad bracelet of gold, curiously
worked with the text of the Koran, which he had seen
last on the Arab's sinewy wrist. Now that wrist was
but a grisly bone. There, too, were parchment strips,
also inscribed with Koran passages, and worn in
a pouch as amulets. The identity of these remains
was established beyond a doubt.
But the discovery inspired within him a renewed
chill of despair. If Lutali had been unable to find
means of escape, how should he? The Arab was a
man of great readiness of resource, of indomitable
courage, and powerfully built. If such a one had
succumbed, why should he, Laurence, fare any better?
He sat down once more, and, gazing upon the sorry
remnant of his late confederate, began to think.
What a strange, vast, practical joke was that thing
called life. Here was he at the end of it, and the very
means of ending it for him had, at the same time,
put him into possession of that which rendered it
worth having at all. He felt the stones lying hard
and angular in his pockets, he even took out one of
them and turned it over sadly in his hands. He would
gladly give a portion of these to be standing on the
summit of yonder cliff instead of at the base; not yet
had he come to feel he would gladly give them all. It
was only of a continuance with what life had brought
him that he should be there at all. He had sacrificed
himself for another. The sublimity of the act even
yet did not strike him. He regarded it as half-humor-
ous, half-idiotic, the first because his cynical creed
297
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER,
was bolstered up by the consciousness that Holmes
would never more than half appreciate it; the last,
because well all unselfishness, all consideration,
was idiotic.
Then it occurred to him that it would be time
enough to sit down and dream when he had exhausted
all expedients, and he had not explored that side of the
hollow at all yet. To this end he moved forward. A
very brief scrutiny, however, of the face of the cliff
sufficed to show that for climbing purposes the cracks
and crannies were useless.
Ha! What was this? A cave or a rift? Right
in front of him the cliff yawned in just such a rift as
the one in which he had awakened to find himself,
only not on anything like such a large scale. Eagerly
Laurence plunged into this. Here might be a way to
the outer world to safety.
He pressed onward in the semi-gloom. The rocks
darkened overhead, forming, in effect, a cave. And
now it seemed that he could hear a strange, soft, scrap-
ing, a kind of sighing noise. A puff-adder was his
first thought, looking around for the reptile. But no
such reptile lay in his path, and he had no means of
striking a light. With a dull shrinking, his flesh
creeping with a strange foreboding, as with the con-
sciousness of some fearful prescience, he decided to
push on, being careful, however, to tread warily.
This was no time for sticking at trifles.
But as he advanced the air became foetid with a
strange, pungent, nauseous odour. There were
lateral clefts branching off the main gallery, but of no
depth, and to these he had given but small notice.
298
THE PLACE OF THE HORROR.
Now, however, something occurred of so appalling a
nature that he stood as one turned to stone.
There shot out from one of these lateral recesses
two enormous tentacles black, wavy as serpents,
covered with hair, armed at the extremity with a
strong double claw. They reached forth noiselessly to
within a couple of yards of where he stood, then two
more followed with a quick, wavy jerk. And now
behind these, a head, as large as that of a man, black,
hairy, bearing a strange resemblance to the most awful
and cruel human face ever stamped with the devil's
image whose dull, goggle eyes, fixed on the appalled
ones of its discoverer, seemed to glow and burn with
a truly diabolical glare.
Laurence stood staring into the countenance of
this awful thing his blood curdled to ice within him,
his hair literally standing up. Was it the Fiend him-
self who had taken such unknown and fearful shape
to appear before him here in the gloom of this foul
and loathsome cavern? Then, as his eyes grew more
and more used to the dim shades, he made out a huge
body crouched back in the recess, half hidden by a
quivering mass of black, hairy tentacles.
For a few moments thus he stood then with a cry
of horror he threw out his hand as though instinct-
ively to ward off an attack. The four tentacles
already protruded were quickly withdrawn, and the
fearful creature, whatever it was, seemed to shrink
back into the cranny. One last look upon the hairy
heap of moving, writhing horror upon those dread-
ful demon eyes, and this man, who had faced death
again and again without shrinking, now felt it all he
299
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
could do to resist an impulse to turn and flee like a
hunted hare. He did, however, resist it yet it was
with flesh shuddering and knees trembling beneath
him that he withdrew, step by step, backwards, until
he stood once more in the full light of day.
300
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE HORROR.
VAMPIRE insect devil what was the thing?
From the length and thickness of those frightful tenta-
cle-like legs, stretching forth from the cranny Lau-
rence who had not halted until he had gained the
ridge dividing the hollow estimated that the crea-
ture when spread out must be eight or ten feet in
diameter.
He looked back. It had not followed him from the
cave. Why had it not? Was it waiting for night
to steal upon him in the darkness, to wreath around
him those terrible tentacles, and to drain his life-
blood?
Now, indeed, all stood clear. " The Spider " was
no allegorical term, but literal fact. That frightful
monster with which he had just come face to face was
indeed the demon-god of the Ba-gcatya! It was
actually fed with living men, in accordance with some
dark and mysterious superstition held by that other-
wise fine race. Now the fate of those whose skeletons
lay around stood accounted for. They had been de-
voured by this unimaginable horror. Alive? It was
almost certain possibly when weakened by starva-
tion. Yet a gruesome thought entered his mind.
Why had an abundance of food been lowered with
him into this hell-pit? Did not the circumstance
301
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
make as though it was in their full vigour that the
monster was designed to seize its victims and in that
event, with what an extent of strength and fell ferocity
must it not be endowed?
But what was this thing? Laurence had seen
spiders of every variety, huge and venomous, and of
grisly size, yet nothing like this. Why, the creature
was as large as a bear nearly ! It must be some beast
hitherto unknown to natural history; yet those awful
tentacles joints, hair, everything could not but
belong to an insect were, in fact, precisely as the legs
of a huge tarantula, magnified five hundred-fold.
What ghastly and blood-curdling freak of nature could
have produced such a monstrosity as this? Why, the
very sight of the awful thing huddled up, black, within
the gloom of the cranny, the horrid tentacles a
hundred-fold more repulsive, more blood-curdling
than though they actually were so many serpents
moving and writhing in a great quivering, hairy, in-
tertwined mass was in itself a sight to haunt his
dreams until his dying day, did he live another fifty
years. What must it mean, then, to realize that he
was actually shut in escape impossible with the
deliberate purpose of being devoured by this vampire,
this demon, even as all these others had been devoured
before him?
At this juncture of his meditations his mind became
alive to two discoveries one, that he had gained the
farther end of the ridge than that by which he had
crossed; the other, that immediately before and be-
neath him, just over the slope of the ridge, lay the
body of a man.
302
THE HORROR.
Yes the body of a man, not the skeleton of one.
That it was that of a dead man he could see at a glance
also that it was one of the Ba-gcatya. With a
shudder he remembered the luckless wretch he had
seen dragged away but a day or two before his own
seizure whether for evil-doing or as a customary
sacrifice he had been condemned to this, Laurence
had not inquired at the time. Casting one more look
at the cave, and satisfying himself that the monster
had not emerged, Laurence went down to examine
the body.
It was that of a man in the prime of life and wear-
ing the head-ring. It was lying on its back, the
throat upturned and protruding. And then Lau-
rence shudderingly noticed two round gaping ori-
fices at the base of the throat, clearly where the great
nippers of the monster had punctured. The limbs,
too, were scratched and scored as though with claws;
and upon the dead face was such an awful expression
of the very extremity of horror and dread as the spec-
tator, accustomed as he was to such sights, had never
beheld stamped on the human countenance before.
And beholding it now, Laurence Stanninghame felt
that the perspiration was oozing upon him at every
pore, for he realized that he was looking upon a fore-
sight of his own fate; for was he not that most per-
fectly and completely helpless of all God's creatures
an unarmed man!
He had not so much as a stick or a pocket-knife to
resist the onslaught of this blood-drinking monster
no, not even a boot, for it flashed across his mind at
that moment that a good iron-shod heel might be
33
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
better than nothing. He was wearing only a low-
soled pair of ordinary velschoenen hide shoes, to wit.
There were not even stones lying about the ground,
save very small ones, and he had no means of loosen-
ing rock slabs large enough to serve as weapons.
There was no place of refuge to climb into afforded
by ledges or pinnacles of rock, and even were there,
why, the thing could surely come up after him as
easily as the common tarantula could run up a wall.
Nothing is more completely demoralizing than the
helplessness of an unarmed man. With his Express
or his six-shooter this one would have regarded the
situation in the light of a wholly new and adventurous
excitement with even a large strong-bladed knife he
would have been willing to take his chances. But he
was totally unarmed. It seemed to Laurence that in
that brief while he had lived a lifetime of mortal
fear.
Then with a mighty effort he pulled himself to-
gether. He would return to where he had left his
stores ere commencing the exploration. Nobody
ever yet improved a situation of peril by starving him-
self. Yet as he wended his way up the long chasm
wherein he had first awakened to life, it was with a
feeling of shuddering repulsion. The place bore such
a close resemblance now to that other cave; yet here,
at any rate, he knew there was nothing.
He opened the corn baskets and the calabash of
amasi, and made a fairly good meal. Then, by the
glooming shades of the overhanging rock, he judged
that daylight was waning. Out into the open once
more the open air might render such a life-and-
304
THE HORROR.
death struggle with the monster a trifle less horrible
than here, shut in by these tomb-like rock walls.
The gray of the brief twilight was upon the faces of
the surrounding cliffs, which soon faded into misty
gloom. Only the stars, leaping into the misty gloom
only the stars, leaping forth into the inky sky, shed
an indistinct light into this vault of horror and of
death. He was shut in here and shut in with this
awful thing which should find him out during the
hours of darkness. And, marvellous to tell, a sud-
den drowsiness came upon him and whether the
effects of the drug still lingered about him, or was it
the reaction from an overstrained mind? he actually
slept slept hard and dreamlessly.
Suddenly he awoke awoke with the weight of an
indefinable terror upon him. A broad moon in its
third quarter was sailing aloft in the heavens, flooding
the hollow with its ghostly light. Instinctively he
sprang to his feet. As he did so there came upon
him a resistless and shuddering fear akin to that which
had paralyzed him in the cave. What was it? The
magnetic proximity of the awful thing stealthily stalk-
ing him? No. The reason now lay clear.
In the moonlight he could make out, shadowy and
indistinct, the corpse he had found during the after-
noon. But, as he gazed, a change seemed to have
come over it. It had increased in size had more
than doubled its bulk. Heavens! the dark mass began
to move to heave and then he thought the very
acme of horror was reached. Not one body was
there, but two. Spread out over the human body was
that of the monster. Now he could make out almost
305
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
every detail of its hideous shape, the convulsive
working of the frightful tentacles as it devoured its
lifeless prey. He could stand it no longer. His brain
was bursting; he must do something. Raising his
voice he shouted shouted as assuredly he had never
shouted in his life. There was a maniacal ring in his
voice. He felt as though he must rush right at this
thing of fear. Was he really going mad? Well, it
began to look like it.
But the effect was prompt. The awful vampire,
gathering its horrible legs under it, sprang clear of
the carcass. It stood for a moment in rigid immo-
bility, then ere the maniacal echoes of that shout had
quavered into silence among the cliffs, it shoggled
over the ridge and was lost to view.
The night wore through somehow, and if ever
mortal eyes were rejoiced by the light of dawn,
assuredly they were those of Laurence Stanninghame,
as once more he found himself the sole living tenant of
that ghastly place of death. Yet, to what end?
One more dreary day in his rock prison, another night
of horror and the same brooding fate awaiting!
He could not remain awake forever. Even though
the sound of his voice thus unexpectedly lifted up had
alarmed the vampire, it would not always do so.
Still, with the light of the new-born day after the night
of terror came some medium of relief.
Once more he drew upon his provision stores.
While repacking them his gaze rested on the native
blanket with the wild idea of manufacturing therefrom
a cord. But to do this he needed a knife. The stuff
was of material too stout for tearing.
306
THE HORROR.
A knife! Ha! With the thought came another.
It was not worth much, but it was something, and
with that came a hard, fierce, desperate hope. The
broad gold bracelet which still encircled Lutali's
skeleton wrist could not that be banged and flat-
tened into something sharp and serviceable? It was
hard metal, anyway.
Still the grim horror lurked within its cave still it
came not forth. It was waiting until another night
should embolden it to seize its defenceless human prey.
He glanced upwards. There were still from two to
three hours of daylight. In a very few moments he
had reached the skeleton of the Arab, and, snapping
off the bony wrist without hesitation, the bracelet was
within his grasp.
But as he looked around for some means of flatten-
ing it, there flashed in upon him another idea a
perfectly heaven-sent idea, grisly under ordinary cir-
cumstances, as it might be. The bracelet was large
and massive, and for it a new use suggested itself.
Critically examining the skeletons, he selected two
with the largest and strongest leg-bones. These he
soon wrenched off, and, running one through the gold
bracelet, he jammed the latter fast against the thicker
end binding it as tightly as he could to the bulging
joint with a strip torn from his clothing. With a
thrill of unutterable joy he realized that he was no
longer unarmed. He had manufactured a tolerably
effective mace. He swung it through the air two or
three times with all his force. Such a blow would
strike a human enemy dead ; was this thing so heavily
armour-plated as to be proof against a similar stroke?
307
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
With one idea came another. These bones might
be further utilized, they might be splintered and
sharpened into daggers. No sooner thought of than
carried out. And now the skeletons underwent the
most ruthless desecration. Several were wrenched
asunder ere he had selected half a dozen of the most
serviceable and these he hammered to the required
size with his newly constructed mace sharpening
them on the rough face of the rock. And then, as
with a glow of satisfaction he sat down to rest and
contemplate his handiwork he almost laughed over
the grim whimsicality of it. Did ever mortal man go
into close conflict armed in such fashion he wondered
with club and dagger manufactured out of the bones
of men?
Should he take the bull by the horns, and advance
boldly to attack the monster in its own den? He
shrank from this. The gloom of the cavern invested
the thing with an additional element of terror, besides
the more practical consideration that a confined space
might hinder him in the use of his bizarre and im-
promptu weapons. He would need all the freedom
of hand and eye. Once more he took out the metal
box, and fed his eyes long and earnestly upon its con-
tents. The Sign of the Spider! Was there indeed
an influence about this trinket or rather, the love
which had hallowed it which was potent to stand
between him and peril in the direst extremity, even as
it had stepped between him and certain death at the
spears of the victorious Ba-gcatya? Slightly im-
proved as was his helpless condition, yet he could not
hope. Even if he succeeded in slaying the monster,
308
THE HORROR.
how should he escape from this death-trap, this rock-
prison? The second day closed.
How many hours of darkness should precede moon-
rise he could but feebly guess. Grasping his
strangely fashioned club in his right hand, and the
strongest and sharpest of his bone daggers in the left
he stood, his back to the rock wall, so as not to be
taken in the rear; never relaxing for a moment in
vigilance, his ears strained to their utmost tension,
his eyeballs striving to pierce the black gloom. More
than once a sound as of stealthy, ghostly scrapings
caused his heart to beat like a hammer; and he seemed
to see the horrible eyes of the monster flaming luridly
out of the darkness ; but still the silent hours went by,
unbroken by any disturbance.
Ha! The gloom of the hollow was lightening
and soon the rim of the great moon peeped over the
cliff behind him. But his attention was rivetted now
upon something before him a something, huge and
black and shadowy which moved. The horror was
coming over the ridge.
It came, running stealthily a few yards, then
halting, then running again. It passed the body of
its last victim, and came running on. Laurence stood
transfixed, spellbound, with loathing and repulsion,
as he gazed upon the huge hairy legs, listening to
the scraping patter of the claw-armed extremities.
But he had no doubt now as to its intentions; it was
coming straight for him.
It stopped within a bare forty yards, and now as
for the first time, he got a clear view of it in the bright
moonlight, Laurence felt his heart fail him for the very
309
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
hideousness of the beast. It had the head of a devil,
the body and legs of a spider, and the black hairy
coat of a bear; and, indeed, it was nearly as large as
a fair-sized specimen of the latter. No, it was no
ordinary thing, this fearsome monster.
It advanced a little nearer, stopped again, then
rushed straight at him.
Laurence stepped aside just in time to ay,oid the
open jaws, but too late entirely to escape the great
flail-like tentacle, which swept him from his feet, right
under the horror, pinioning for a moment his arms.
Then, by a tremendous effort, he threw himself partly
upwards. The horrible nippers descended but miss-
ing his throat descended to his chest, and met there,
with a metallic, crunching sound.
Yet he was unharmed. Even in that unspeakably
awful moment crushed in the wreathings of the huge
tentacles the frightful head and devilish eyes of the
vampire within two feet of his own he realized what
had happened. Instead of penetrating his body, the
nippers of the monster had struck upon the metal box.
The thought nerved him. Wrenching his arm partly
free beneath the horror, he sought a joint in the horny
armour, and drove the bone dagger into its body
drove it into the very butt.
Throwing up its head convulsively, the fearful
creature began to spin round and round, and its
would-be victim realized somewhat of its enormous
muscular strength, for wiry and in hard training as
he was, he was dragged with it, rolled over and over
in the wreathings of the black, hairy tentacles. Was
310
THE HORROR.
he being dragged off to its den? The very terror of
the thought nerved him once more revived his fast-
failing strength. Drawing forth another of his bone
daggers, he plunged it, too, deep into the body of the
beast.
For a moment the sinewy, struggling tentacles
relaxed, and just that moment the man was able to
seize, or he had been lost. With a violent effort he
flung himself free, and, having once more gained his
feet, his breath coming in hard, panting gasps,
stood awaiting the next attack.
Thus they stood, a strange group indeed, in the
brilliant moonlight: The man, his rudely constructed
mace uplifted, his head bent forward, a lurid glow in
his eyes the glow of the fell fury of desperation; the
hideous spider-devil swaying itself on its horrible
tentacles as though for another spring upon its in-
tended victim. Ha! it was coming!
The man stood ready, a tightening of the muscles
of the arm that held the club, a lowering of the brows.
On the part of the demon, a spasmodic contraction.
Again it came at him.
Half rearing itself from the ground, its feelers wav-
ing in the air on a level with his face, propelling itself
slowly forward, as though to make sure of its final
rush, emitting the while a kind of soft breathing hiss.
The aspect of the creature was so truly fearful, that
the man, gazing upon it, was conscious of a kind of
blasting influence stealing over him, beginning to
paralyze nerve and effort alike a feeling that it was
useless to continue the struggle. The metal box
3"
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
could not save him twice. Yet, through all, was the
certainty that to lose nerve for one moment was to
lose life.
His will-power triumphed. He knew that did he
once again get within grip of those ghastly tentacles
he would never emerge alive. He swung up his im-
provised mace; the creature was now within twelve
yards of him. He hurled the club; with terrific force
it cleft the air, the massive band of gold which con-
stituted its head lighting full upon one of the demon's
eyes. For one moment the horror contracted into a
heaving, writhing heap, frightful to behold, then,
throwing out its grisly tentacles, it spun round and
round as it had done before. The man's heart was
beating as though it would burst. Was the thing
slain, or in its vampire tenacity of life would it renew
the combat? Ha! was it coming again? Was it?
One moment of the most unutterable suspense, and
then and then the fearful thing drew back, turned
round, and shoggled away in the direction whence it
had come. It was worsted.
Save for a few scratches, Laurence was unhurt. He
had almost miraculously escaped the creature's nip-
pers. Yet now that he had won his hard-fought vic-
tory, a sort of rage took possession of him, an impulse
to follow it up, to destroy this fell horror utterly.
Growling a savage curse, he started in pursuit of the
retreating monster, but hardly had he taken two steps
forward than there floated to his ear a sound a voice
which seemed to fall from the sky itself. He stopped
short in his tracks and stood immovable, statuesque,
listening.
312
CHAPTER XXVIII.
" ONLY A SAVAGE!"
"NYONYOBA!"
Clear, distinct, the name sounded, floating down
from above.
"What the devil is that?" was the characteristic
exclamation that burst from Laurence and there was
something of a quaver in the tone. For his nerves
were quite overstrung, and no manifestation of things
unknown would have surprised him now.
" Nyonyoba! Ho, Nyonyoba!" again called the
voice in soft, rich Zulu tones, low but penetrating.
" Move now some thirty paces to where the cliff juts.
There is that by which you may return to earth again
and the Spider may go hungry."
" The Spider has got enough to fill him up for some
long time," answered Laurence, with excusable pride.
" But who speaks? The voice is like that of Lin-
dela."
" It is that of Lindela," came the soft-toned reply.
" Climb now, and tarry not. I see the Spider. Climb
before it is too late."
With all his elation, now that the first flush of
victory was over, Laurence could not recall without
a shiver the grasp of those horrible tentacles, the fiend-
like glare of that dreadful face. He vastly preferred
flight to renewed fight, now.
313
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Following the voice, he came to the point indicated.
A rope of twisted raw-hide thong lay against the
rock. His heart leaped within him. Soon he would
be free from this fearful place. The cliff here formed
a projecting angle, all jagged like the teeth of a saw.
He remembered noticing this, remembered balancing
its capabilities of forming a natural ladder. He had
even climbed a few steps, and then had been forced
to own that it was impracticable. Now, however,
with the aid of the raw-hide rope, the thing could be
done done with comparative ease.
As a preliminary he stepped back, and, gazing up-
wards, went over the climb in his mind, carefully
noting every step, every handhold. The cliff was
terrace here, and the nearest resting-place, whence,
indeed, the rope hung, he estimated to be about sixty
feet. Without this aid, however, it might as well have
been sixty hundred.
Seizing the rope he began his ascent, the mace and
the remainder of his bone daggers still slung around
him. The task was more difficult than it looked.
Contact, often sudden and violent, with the rock face
bruised his knuckles, inflicting excruciating pain, once
indeed so as to turn him sick and faint. But a glance
down into the grisly hollow, as he hung thus sus-
pended by a thread the glint of the white skeletons
in the moonlight, and, above all, the vague, shadowy
outline, black and frightful, of the horror, which still
lingered outside its den, as though meditating return
nerved him once more. What if he were to fall,
maimed, battered, helpless would not the frightful
thing hold him entirely at its mercy, and return and
314
"ONLY A SAVAGE!"
drain his life-blood at its pleasure? Summoning all his
will-power, all his strength, he resumed his climb, and
soon a firm, resolute hand, grasping his, drew him up
for the time being into safety; for they were on a
ledge.
" Rest now, beloved," said the chief's daughter
softly, as she turned to draw up the rope. " I have
saved thee so far."
" But to what end, Lindela? Did you not fling a
stick at me, and strike me hard? See, I am bruised
with it yet. It has even hindered my climbing powers.
That is a strange way of showing love."
" But is this a stranger way? " said the girl sadly,
displaying the rope she had just drawn up. " See
now. They suspected me, as it was. Had I not
shown myself the first and the fiercest to turn against
you, should I have been here now? But come, we are
not yet in safety. When we are it will be time enough
for talk, and for love."
She led the way to a steep, narrow cranny. Up
this they climbed some fifty feet without difficulty,
emerging upon another terrace. Here another rope
hung from the cliff above, about the same height.
" Go first, Nyonyoba, while I hold the rope to
steady it," said the girl. " Then, too, if your strength
should give way, perhaps I may catch you and break
your fall. I am as strong as any of the women of the
Ba-gcatya and that is saying much."
For answer, Laurence uttered a derisive laugh.
But there must have been that in its tone which
pleased the chief's daughter, for she repeated the
request, more softly, more entreatingly,
315
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" See now, Lindela," he answered, placing a hand
on each of the shapely shoulders, which glistened
light bronze in the moonlight. " You don't know me
yet if you think I will leave the/ post of danger to you.
Obey me instantly. Go first up that rope, or I return
and do combat once more with the Spider."
" Once more? Have you then actually fought
with that with that which is down there?" And
her eyes were round with amazement.
" I have, and the thing has two of these sticking in
it to their full length," showing the bone daggers.
" I have a recollection, too, of smiting hard with this
noble knob-stick, but it was like smiting the hardest
kind of tortoise shell. Not yet, however, is the time
to talk. Go first, Lindela go first."
She obeyed him now without further demur, and
soon he had joined her, for this climb was neither so
long nor so difficult as the first.
Laurence now saw that they were high up on a
mountain top. Great peaks, some snow-capped,
towered aloft and far away beneath stretched a
billowy expanse of country, dim, misty in the moon-
light. The air was keen and chill, and with something
of a shiver Lindela resumed her light upper covering,
which she had laid aside in order to give full freedom
to body and limbs.
" And you have met and fought with that," she
began, pointing downwards, " and are still alive?
Why, Nyonyoba, you have done that which no man
has ever done before. How did you do it? With
the bones of dead men? Ha! you are indeed great,
Nyonyoba, great indeed. Yet what a thought ! "
310
"ONLY A SAVAGE!"
" A good thought truly. Still, had it occurred to
those who went before me they might have done the
same. Yet not for there was another force that
saved me which they lacked."
"Ha! another force?"
" Yes, the Sign of the Spider. The Spider itself was
powerless against that."
He drew forth the metal box, and for the first time
examined it. By the light of the moon he could dis-
cern two slight dents; one upon the border of the
quaint sprawling initials, where the nippers of the
monster had struck. For the moment he forgot
Lindela, forgot the surroundings, forgot where he
was, remembering only Lilith. Three times had
Lilith's love interposed between him and certain death
three times most unequivocally. And this third
time, from what unutterably horrible form of death!
Those poisoned fangs. The very thought made him
shudder.
" You are cold, beloved. See, here are coverings.
I have thought of everything."
The voice, the touch upon his arm, recalled him to
himself. If the love of the one woman had stood
between him and death no less had that of the other
borne its part. And this other now stood before him,
soft-eyed, pleading; grand in her statuesque and
perfect proportions, in her splendid strength and
courage that strength and courage which had nerved
her to set aside the most awesome traditions of her
race, to brave its gloomy superstitions, to venture
alone and unaided into the haunt of mysterious terror,
for love of this stranger and alien. This, too, was the
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
sublimity of love in all of its indomitable quenchless-
ness. And she who gave so freely, who gave all,
indeed, of this rich, this inestimable gift was only
a savage!
Only a savage! It is probable that some of the
most golden-lined, well-nigh divine phases of mind
that ever had dawned upon him in his life were shed
over Laurence Stanninghame then, as he stood upon
that lofty mountain top at midnight in the flooding
light of the moon, his gaze meeting the sweet respon-
sive one from the wide opened eyes of this savage.
" Say, Nyonyoba!" and the voice was full and
rich, " say, Nyonyoba, what will you give me if I
show you that which will delight your eyes? Will you
love me very much very much?" and the soft
musical Zulu word Ka-kulu thus repeated was as a
caress in itself. " Well then, come."
She led the way a few yards, then halted. A bundle
lay upon the ground, and this Lindela proceeded to
undo. It consisted of a couple of strong native
blankets, inclosing several round baskets of woven
grass similar to those which had contained the food
which had been let down in cruel mercy into the place
of the horror by the mysterious hands which had
lowered himself. But that upon which Laurence's
eyes rested, upon which he almost pounced, was a
short carbine and a well-stocked cartridge-belt. It
was a vastly inferior weapon to his own trusty " Ex-
press," but still it was a firearm.
" That is not all," cried the girl, laughing gleefully.
" See this."
She thrust another bundle into his hands. Almost
318
"ONLY A SAVAGE!"
trembling he opened it. A revolver his own; also
another of smaller calibre. And with both was a
quantity of ammunition. As he seized these, he
realized that he would have given half his diamonds,
up till then well-nigh forgotten, for just such an
armoury. Now he felt equal to anything, to anybody.
He was once more the dominant animal, an armed
man nay, more a well-armed man.
"Ha! now you are once more as you ought to
be," cried Lindela, gleefully clapping her hands to-
gether. " You who are stronger than that which is
down there," falling into the Zulu custom of refraining
directly to mention that which is held in awe. " With-
out weapons. What are you now with them? Great
great! To defeat the Spider armed only with the
bones of men. Whan! That was great indeed
magnificent! "
" Yet I think I will silence forever that horror,"
said Laurence, stepping to the brink of the cliff and
peering down into the awful hollow. " Yes, there the
beast is; I will risk a long shot," and he sighted the
carbine.
But in a moment Lindela's arms were around him,
pinioning his to his sides.
" Not so, beloved," she whispered earnestly. " Not
so; the Black Ones who wait on the Spider frequently
come to look down into his haunt, even when they do
not bring offerings of men. If they find him slain
they will know you have escaped, and will pursue;
for which reason it is well well, indeed, that you did
not quite slay him with those marvellous weapons,
the bones of men, Further, they might hear the
3*9
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
sound of the fire-weapon, and know where to find us.
Come, we have far to travel."
This was unanswerable. Laurence stood for a few
moments gazing down into the fearsome place which
held this shuddering mystery. Was it real? Was he
dreaming? Were those hours of terror and despair
spent down there but some gigantic nightmare? He
passed his hand over his eyes then looked again.
The thing was real. But now he could no longer see
the horrid shape black and grisly. The creature
must have withdrawn into its ghastly den to die.
The wounds which he had inflicted upon it were
surely too deep, too strongly dealt, to be aught but
mortal. The Spider would no more drink the blood
feed on the flesh of men. Then he turned to follow
Lindela.
The latter had already loaded herself with the bundle
of wraps and provisions. To his suggestion that they
should, at any rate, halve the load, Lindela laughed in
scorn.
" A man's work is to carry his weapons, and, when
needed, use them," she answered. " To bear loads
and this is a light one indeed is woman's work not
work for one who has proved too great even for the
Spider."
Then, as they travelled down the mountain side in
the fresh cool night air, she told him of all that had
befallen since he had been hauled to his mysterious and
awful doom. The thoughtless act of Holmes had
necessitated the destruction of Nondwana's kraal there
and then; and, indeed, the king's brother was more
than dissatisfied with the clemency extended to the
320
"ONLY A SAVAGE!"
other two white men. But the word of Tyisandhlu,
once given, stood. They had been sent out of the
country under a strong armed escort, which was under
orders to conduct them to the great town of an Arab
chief, with whom El Khanac had blood brotherhood.
How had she found out the mystery of the Spider?
Was it known to all the nation? It was known to very
few, she explained. The Black ones who waited
upon the Spider were a mysterious order so mys-
terious, indeed, that none knew exactly who were
members of it and who were not. Nor could she tell
how the strange and gruesome cult first originated,
save that it was dimly whispered that the Ba-gcatya
had taken it over from the nation they had driven
out, and that in accordance with an ancient prophecy
uttered by a famous magician at the time of their
flight from Zululand. But as she told of her resolve
to rescue him at all risks, even so long ago as when,
by overhearing her father's talk, she learned that this
doom was to be his in any case, Laurence felt himself
grow strangely soft towards her. Savage or not,
Nondwana's daughter was a splendid character in the
whole-hearted devotion of her love ; heroic was hardly
the word for it. And as she went on to tell how she
had devoted herself entirely to finding out the locality
of the dreaded spot, learning the way to it by stealth-
ily following on the footsteps of that grim order when
it was actually engaged in conveying thither another
human victim, risking her life at every step, and not
her life merely, but incurring the certainty of the same
fearful doom in the event of discovery, telling it,
too, in the most simple way, and as though the act
321
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
were the most natural thing in the world, Laurence
realized that he might have done worse than throw in
his lot with this loftily descended daughter of a splen-
did race of kingly barbarians, had circumstances been
ordered otherwise.
But even while thus listening, while thus thinking,
another vein of thought was running parallel in his
mind. Those insignificant-looking stones, which he
had picked up down there, represented wealth ample
wealth; and with it had come a feverish longing to
enjoy the comforts, the pleasures, the delights which
civilization afforded to those who possessed it. Yet,
his entering upon such enjoyment, if it were ever
effected, as at that moment it seemed in a fair way
to be, he owed to Lindela. What was to become of
her, for she could never return to her nation? She
had thrown away everything, this high-born daugh-
ter of a race of kings ; had risked her life daily, to save
the life of a stranger and that for love. Yes, that
was love indeed! he thought. She was a brown-
skinned savage, but she was a splendid woman with
mind and character as noble as her own magnificent
physique. She would be a delightful, a perfect com-
panion during those wild, free forest marches day
after day, night after night, fraught with peril and
hardship at every step, but how would civilization
affect her? Would it not ruin that grand character,
even as it had ruined really noble natures before her,
for there is such a thing as the " noble savage,"
although we grant the product to be a scarce one.
And with all this was entwined the thought of Lilith
Ormskirk.
322
"ONLY A SAVAGE!"
Well, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof, had
always been his guiding maxim, and for the present,
as he took his way down the mountain side the great
crags rising higher and higher to the moon, the black
billowy roll of the forest country drawing nearer and
nearer, the voices of the wild creatures of the waste,
raised weird and ravening on the night, the thunder-
ous boom of the voice of the forest king ever and anon
dominating all others Laurence felt conscious of a
wild, exhilarating sense of freedom. There was music
in these sounds after the ghastly, awed silence of the
horrible place from which he had been delivered.
And, was it due on his part to the frame of mind of the
hardened adventurer, trained to take things as they
come, the good with the ill but never, during the
days and weeks that followed, did the daughter of the
line of the Ba-gcatya kings feel moved to any qualm
of regret over the sacrifice of name and home and
country which she had made for this man's sake.
323
CHAPTER XXIX.
" A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE."
THEY were now on the other slope of the great
mountain chain which shut in the Ba-gcatya country
on that side, and, judging by the landmarks, it seemed
to Laurence that the surroundings wore an aspect not
absolutely unfamiliar, and that they could not be far
out of the way by which he had been brought in a
captive. There was the same broad belt of desolate
land which took many days to traverse a land of
gloomy forest and sluggish river, reed-fringed, croco-
dile-haunted ; and night after night they would build
their camp-fire, resting secure in the red circle of its
cheery flame while the howling of ravening beasts
kept up dismal chorus in the outer darkness beyond.
It was a primeval idyll, the wandering of these two
the man, the product of the highest fin-de-siecle civili-
zation; the woman, the daughter of a savage race.
Yet in such wandering, savage and civilized were
curiously near akin. They were free as air untram-
melled by any conventionality or artificial needs. The
land furnished ample subsistence, animal and vege-
table. The wild game which supplied them with food
could not have been more free.
" Would you rather have been rescued some other
way, Nyonyoba? " said the girl one evening, as they
were sitting by the camp-fire.
324
"A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE.
" No. There is no other way I should have pre-
ferred. See now, Lindela. What if we were to re-
turn to your people? Surely they would believe now
in the Sign of the Spider and that the conqueror is
greater than the conquered? "
" Not so," she answered, and her eyes, which had
brightened at the first words of his reply, became
clouded and sad. " They would put us to death now
both of us. But were it otherwise would you
really desire to return?"
" One might do worse. I don't know that the
blessings of civilization are such blessings after all,
which to you is a riddle."
He relapsed into silence and thought. There were
times when, with the riches upon him, he was con-
sumed with a perfectly feverish longing to return to
civilization. There were other times, again, when he
looked back with more than a lingering regret to the
pleasant land of the Ba-gcatya. Furthermore, Lindela
had entwined herself around his heart more than he
knew. Not an atom of the intrepidity of devotion
she had displayed in order to compass his final rescue
was thrown away upon him any more than her de-
portment since. Through the toilsomeness and peril
of their journeying no word of complaint or de-
spondency escaped her. She was always sunny-
natured, cheerful, self-sacrificing, resourceful in
short, a delightful companion. Yet she was a
savage, he thought, with a curl of the lip, as before
his mind's eye arose the contrast between her and her
civilized sisters, with their artificiality and moods
and caprices, and petty spites and fictitious ailments,
325
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
and general contentiousness all around. It was by
no means certain he would not have returned to dwell
with her among her own people, had that course been
open but it was not. Only the return to civilization
lay before him; and what to do with Lindela for
he had not the slightest desire to part with her.
Meanwhile they had reached the perilous phase of
their wanderings. Ruins of multitudinous villages lay
in their path at every turn, but, what was worse, signs
of human occupation began to show once more, and
human occupation meant hostile occupation. It was
fortunate that the land had been doubly raided by
the slave-hunters and the Ba-gcatya because in its
depopulation lay their safety. But those who had
escaped would not be likely to view with any friendly
glance a representative of each despoiling factor, as
exemplified in these two. So they avoided villages,
which was easy enough by careful observation ahead.
What was less easy, however, was to avoid wandering
parties.
Nor was it always practicable. Once they came
right into such a horde near enough, that is, for their
presence to be discovered, and for a whole day were
they stealthily followed, their pursuers only drawing
off owing to nightfall and the proximity of other tribes
hostile to themselves. Another time they nearly
walked into the midst of an encampment while a can-
nibal feast was in progress. At sight of the human
limbs hung up, the filed teeth and tattooed faces of
these savages tearing at their horrible repast, Lindela
shuddered with repulsion and anger.
" See there, Nyonyoba," she said, when they had
326
"A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE."
withdrawn beyond hearing, " do not the Ba-gcatya
act rightly in stamping out these foul Izima who de-
vour the flesh of their own kindred, like wild dogs? "
" I think so. And we, who capture them to sell
them, do we not send them to a better fate, where they
can no more indulge in such repellent appetites? "
And this she did not attempt to gainsay.
For months they journeyed on thus, peril their com-
panion at every step, the more so as they gained the
more inhabited tracts. Once they fell in with a petty
Arab chief and his following. This man was known
to Laurence, and treated them well and hospitably
while they remained at his camp. But before they
departed he said:
" What sum will purchase this girl, my friend, for
by now thou must have had enough of her? She
would fetch large money at Khartoum, whither I can
forward her, and I will deal with thee fairly. Yes,
Allah is great. I will only make my profit on her.
The price shall be liberal."
Then Laurence Stanninghame, the renegade, the
man who had thrown all considerations of duty and
feeling to the winds as so much lumber, so much
meaningless conventionality, felt as shocked and dis-
gusted as ever he could have done in his most foolish
days, what time illusions were as vivid, as golden as
ever. But, remembering himself, he replied in an
even tone:
" No sum will purchase her, Rahman ben Zuhdi.
Were I dying at this moment, and large wealth could
bring me fifty years more of life, I would not sell her.
All that the world contains could not purchase her,
327
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
for she has restored me to life at the peril of her own,
again and again, nay, more, has restored me to that
which alone renders life a possession of any value. I
have dealt in slaves, but this is a daughter of a race
of kings.
" The People of the Spider/' said the Arab thought-
fully, flashing a curious glance at Lindela, who stood
some little way apart. " They grow their women fine
if they are all as this one. Well, I did but make thee
the offer, my brother; but if a man values anything
above gold, all the gold in the world will not induce
him to part therewith. Fare thee well. We part
friends."
" As friends indeed do we part, O Rahman," replied
Laurence. And they resumed their respective ways.
As time went on, Lindela's manner seemed to
undergo a change her spirits to flag. Was it the
fearful malarial heat of the low-lying forest country,
often swampy, which was affecting her? thought Lau-
rence with concern. He himself was inured to it,
but this daughter of a healthy upland race, accus-
tomed to the breezy, equable climate of her mountain
home on her the steaming heat of the rotting vege-
tation and marshy soil might conceivably be beginning
to tell.
They were resting one day during the noontide
heat. No burning rays from the outside sun could
scorch here, for the place was dim with thick foliage
and creepers trailing from the limbs of great forest
trees. Both had fallen asleep.
Suddenly Lindela started up. A sharp wringing
pain, seeming to begin on the left shoulder, went
328
"A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE."
through her frame. It spread down her arm then
through to the other shoulder down the other arm.
What was it? A cramp caught from the treacherous
chill of the humid soil? Perhaps. Well, it would
soon pass. Then Laurence began to stir in his sleep.
The sight made her forget her pain. He must not
awaken ; he needed rest. Noiselessly plucking a leafy
branch she went over to him and began softly to fan
him. This was effective. His even, regular breath-
ing told that he slumbered peacefully, restfully, once
more.
Soon she became aware that her powers were failing
her. Her arm seemed to become cramped, paralyzed,
and a mist floated before her eyes. What did it mean?
Her lips opened to call aloud then closed, uttering
no sound. \Vhy should he be disturbed because she
was suffering a little pain? thought this savage this
daughter of a race of savage kings.
But the mist deepened before her failing vision.
She swayed where she sat, then fell heavily forward
upon him the branch wherewith she had been fan-
ning him striking him sharply across the face.
Laurence sprang to his feet, unconsciously throwing
her from him. His first impression was that he had
been surprised in his sleep by an enemy.
" Lindela! What is it?" he cried, raising her up
and supporting her. And then his dark face turned a
livid ashen white for with the dull stupor which lay
heavy in the usually bright eyes, his own had rested
upon something else. The shapely shoulder was
swollen to an abnormal size, and at the back of it were
two small round punctures.
329
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
" She has been bitten. A snake, of course/' he
muttered. " And it is too late."
" Yes, it is too late, Nyonyoba," she murmured.
" Yet I do not think I have been bitten not by a
snake, or I should have known it."
" But you have been. When was this? Why did
you not awaken me?" And his voice startled even
himself, so fierce was it in its grief.
" Why should I awaken you, beloved, you who
needed rest?" she murmured, groping for his hand.
" Yes, it is too late. It was some time ago. I thought
it was a cramp, but I must have been bitten."
Laurence was thinking and thinking hard. What
remedy was there? None. It was even as she had
said too late. The poison had penetrated her whole
system.
" I am dying, beloved and shall soon go into the
Dark Unknown " she murmured, more drowsily
than before. " Yet it matters nothing, for those of our
nation do not fear death. And listen. I heard the
Arab's proposal to you, and your answer thereto
yet, when you returned to your people, what would
have become of me? "
She was but voicing his own thoughts of many
and many a time before. Yet now Laurence felt
almost startled. Was it the clear intuition which
rightly or wrongly is believed to accompany the hour
of dissolution? Then he remembered she could have
learned much about civilized peoples through the talk
of Tyisandhlu and her father.
" I die, beloved, but I welcome death," she went on,
" for I have lived ah, yes, I have lived. I feel no
330
"A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE."
pain now, and I die in your arms. Surely my itongo*
will not weep mournfully on the voices of the night
as others do; surely it will laugh for very joy, for very
love, because of this my end, until time shall die
will it not, Nyonyoba, my beloved? Say will it
not?"
But Laurence could not say anything, for, lo a
marvel. This man, deadened for long years to feeling
or ruth; this coldly pitiless trafficker in the sufferings
of human beings; in whose cynical creed now such
a love as that of this savage girl held no place felt
now as though a hand were gripping him by the
throat, choking all power of reply. And the call of
birds, high among the tree-tops, alone broke the
silence, in the semi-gloom of the forest aisles.
Lindela's voice had sunk until it was well-nigh in-
audible, and Laurence was constrained to bend his
head to hers in order to catch her every word. Then
a flash of gladness seemed momentarily to light up
the drowsy eyes/ and she spoke no more. Her eye-
lids closed, her breathing grew fainter and fainter,
and soon Laurence knew that that which lay heavy
within his arms was no longer a living woman. Lin-
dela had passed.
For long he sat thus. Then a faint rustling sound
in the dry wood of an immense fallen tree-trunk
caught his ear. Ha! the snake which had been the
cause of her death! It, at any rate, should die.
Gently he laid her down, then snatching up a stick
which had been used to carry one of the loads he ad-
vanced towards the sound.
* Tutelary spirit.
331
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
Something was struggling among the dry bark;
with the stick he broke this away. There fell out an
enormous spider.
He started back in horror and loathing. The hairy
monster brought back too gruesome a reminiscence.
Then he noticed that it looked as if it had received
injury through crushing, two or three of the hideous
tentacles being partially or wholly broken off.
Then, as he gazed with loathing upon the sprawling
thing, it seemed that the missing link was supplied.
Lindela, in her sleep, must have moved over on to
this horror, though not heavily enough to crush it.
It had buried its venomous nippers in her shoulder,
prior to crawling away to die.
A shiver ran through his frame as he beat to death
the great noisome insect and his blood seemed to
chill with a superstitious fear. It seemed too strange,
too marvellous to be a mere coincidence. Lindela
had defied the traditions of her race, and now she
had met her death through the agency of the very
embodiment of those traditions. She, a daughter of
the Kings of the People of the Spider, had met her
death through the Spider's bite. It was horrifying in
its sinister appropriateness. Was it really a thing of
witchcraft? Did the Fiend have actual bodily power
here, in "the dark places of the earth"? Had this
demoniacal influence followed her to wreak its ven-
geance here, at such a distance from the home and
country to which she would return no more?
When Laurence Stanninghame resumed his journey
the next day he left behind him a grave 1 a deep,
secure grave a solitary grave in the heart of the un-
332
"A DEEP A SOLITARY GRAVE."
trodden forest. His journeyings henceforth must be
alone; but ofttimes his thoughts would go back
to that nameless grave, and to her who rested forever
therein. Only a savage! Only a heathen! Yes
but if brave, devoted, self-sacrificing love is of any
account at all in the scheme of Christian virtues,
where would this savage, this heathen, come in at the
day of awards? Where indeed, among the multitude
of gold-worshipping, form-adoring Pharisees? Truth
to tell, Laurence believed but dimly in the day of
awards. Yet did it exist, he thought he knew the
answer to his own question.
333
CHAPTER XXX.
" GOOD-BYE MY IDEAL! "
JOHANNESBURG once more. The great, restless
gold-town had passed through many changes, many
booms and rumours of booms the latter for the most
part since that quiet trek now four years ago. Many
of those who then were among its busiest inhabitants
had departed, some to a land whence there is no re-
turn, others to the land of their respective births.
Many, who then had been on the verge of millionaires,
" buzzing " their rapidly acquired gains with a lavish
magnificence which they imagined to be " princely "
were now uncertificated bankrupts, or had blown
their brains out, or had come within the meshes of the
law and the walls of a convict prison; while others,
who at that time lived upon hope and the " whiff of
an oiled rag/' now fared sumptuously every day, and
would do so unto their lives' end. But for those who
had held on to the place through good and evil report,
since the time we last pioneered our reader through
its dust-swept streets and arid surroundings, some-
thing of a surprise was in store. For the old order
of things was reversed. Instead of Hazon returning
without his travelling companions, the latter had re-
turned without Hazon.
" Bless my soul, Stanninghame, is that you? " cried
Rankin, running right into Laurence one morning
334
"GOOD-BYEMY IDEAL!"
just outside the new Exchange. " And Holmes too?
Why, you're looking uncommonly well, both of you.
What have you done with the pirate, eh? "
" Oh, he's coming on! " replied Laurence, which in
substance was correct, though it might be weeks be-
fore he came on; for, as a matter of fact, Hazon had
remained behind at a certain point to collect and
reduce to cash such gains as were being custodied for
him and the joint undertaking by sundry of his
blood-brethren the Arab chiefs.
"Coming on, is he? W 7 ell, well! I think we've
been libelling the pirate after all, eh Rainsford? " as
that worthy just joined them. " Here's Hazon's trek
come back without Hazon, instead of the other way
about."
Laurence thought how nearly it had been a case of
the other way about. Had he not offered himself
instead of Holmes, it would have been, for he would
have remained with the Ba-gcatya, and Hazon would
have returned alone. Of the fate of Holmes well
he knew what that would have been. Holmes, how-
ever, did not, for the simple reason that Laurence
had refrained from communicating a word relating to
that horrible episode to either of his associates
when, shortly after parting with Rahman ben Zuhdi,
and the death of Lindela, he had found the two, safe
and well, at the principal town of a prominent Arab
chief. And Holmes, possibly through ignorance of
its nature or magnitude, never did fully appreciate the
sacrifice which the other had made for him.
" What do you think?" went on Rankin, when the
requisite amount of greeting and chaff had been ex-
335
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
changed, " this fellow Rainsford has gone and got
married; has started out in the nursery department
for all he's worth."
Laurence laughed.
" Why, Rainsford, you were as stony broke as the
rest of us when I left. Things looking up, eh? "
" Of course. I told you it was a case of * down to-
day, up to-morrow ' told you at the time. And it's
my belief you'd have done better to have remained
here." Then lowering his voice; "Where's the
pirate?"
" Coming on."
Rainsford whistled, and looked knowing.
"What do you say?" cut in Rankin, "a drop of
gin and soda wouldn't hurt us, eh?" Then while
they moved round to the Exchange bar, he went on;
" I've got a thing that would suit you to a hair, Stan-
ninghame. I'd take it up myself if I could, but I'm
only an agent in the matter."
"Shares, eh?"
" Yes Skinner and Sacks."
" Dead off. See here, Rankin you must off-load
them on somebody else. If I were next door to cer-
tain of making half a million out of it, even then I
wouldn't touch any sort of investment connected with
this place. No, not to save my immortal soul if I've
got one, which at times seems doubtful." And there
was something in Laurence's laugh evoked by old
time recollections which convinced the other that
no business was to be done in this quarter at any rate.
There was method in the way in which Laurence
had sought to dawdle away the morning. He had
336
" GOOD-BYE MY IDEAL!"
arrived late the night before, and as yet had made no
inquiries. How strange it all seemed! Surely it was
but yesterday that he was here last. Surely he had
slept, and had dreamed the portentous events which
had intervened. They could not have been real. But
the stones the great diamonds they were real
enough; the metal box too the "Sign of the
Spider."
How was he thus transformed? Later in the day,
as he stood on the stoep knocking at the door of Mrs.
Falkner s house, he was conscious that his heart hardly
beat quicker, that his pulses were as firm and even as
ever. Four years of a hard, stern schooling had
done it.
Yes, Mrs. Falkner was at home. He was ushered
into the drawing room, which was empty. There was
the same ever-clinging scent of roses, the same knick-
knacks, the same lounge on which they had sat to-
gether that night. Even the battery stamps across
the kloof seemed to hammer out the same refrain.
The door opened. Was it Lilith herself? No,
only Lilith's aunt.
" Why, Mr. Stanninghame, I am glad to see you.
But how you have changed! "
" Well, yes, Mrs. Falkner. Time has knocked me
about some. I can't say the same as regards yourself,
though. You haven't changed an atom."
She laughed. " That can't be true. I'm sure I
feel more and more of an old woman every day. But
sit down, do, and tell me about your adventures.
Have you had a successful trip? "
" Pretty well. It has proved a more paying con-
337
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
cern, at any rate, than the exhilarating occupation
known as ' waiting for the boom/ "
" I am very glad to hear that. And your friends
have you all returned safe and sound? "
Laurence replied that they had. But for all his
outward equability, his impatience was amounting to
torment. Even while he talked his ears were strained
to catch the sound of a light step without. How
would Lilith look? he wondered. Would these four
years have left their mark upon her?
" And how is your niece, Miss Ormskirk? " he went
on.
"Lilith? Oh, but by the way, she is not ' Miss
Ormskirk ' now. She is married."
" Oh, is she? I hadn't heard. After all, one for-
gets how time slips by."
That was all. It was a shock possibly a hard
one; but of late Laurence Stanninghame had been
undergoing a steady training for meeting such. Mrs.
Falkner who had made the communication not with-
out some qualm, for she had been put very much up
to the former state of things, both by her nephew,
George, and certain " signs of the times," not alto-
gether to be dissimulated, however bravely Lilith had
borne herself after that parting now so far back
felt relieved and in a measure a trifle disappointed,
for, womanlike, she dearly loved romance. But the
man before her had not turned a hair, had not even
changed colour at the intelligence. It could not really
matter, she decided which was as well for him, but
for herself disappointing.
" Yes she married her cousin George, my nephew.
338
"GOOD-BYE MY IDEAL!"
You remember him," she went on. " I was against it
for a long time; but, after all, I believe it was the
saving of him, poor fellow, he was so wildly in love
with her. He was simply going to the dogs. Yes,
it was the saving of him."
" That's satisfactory, anyway," said Laurence, as
though he were discussing the fortunes of any two
people whose names he had just heard for the first
time. But meanwhile his mind was inwardly aveng-
ing itself upon its outward self-control. For vividly,
and as though spoken into his ears, there seemed to
float fragments of those farewell words uttered there
in that room: "You have drawn my very heart and
soul into yours. . . . Oh, it is too bitter! Laurence, my
darling my love, my life, my ideal, good-bye and
good-bye! "
Well, the foolish dream had been a pleasant one
while it lasted. Nay, more, in all seriousness it had
borne momentous fruit, for no less than three times
had that episode yes, now it seemed a mere episode
intervened between him and death.
" Lilith will be so glad to see you when you are
passing through; for of course you will be returning
home again. They have taken a bungalow at Kalk
Bay for the summer. I'll find you the address."
They talked on a little longer, and then Laurence
took his departure.
As he gained the outer air once more there was
that about the shimmer of the sunlight, the hum of
the battery stamp, the familiarity of the surroundings,
which reminded him of that former time when he
had thus stepped forth, having bidden a good-bye
339
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
which was not a good-bye. Yet the same pain did
not grip around his heart now not in its former
acuteness rather was it now a sense of the falling
away of all things. By a freak of psychology his mind
reverted to poor Lindela, dying in his arms in the
steamy gloom of the equatorial forest: dying slowly,
by inches, in pain; yet uttering no cry, no complaint,
lest she should rob him of a few minutes more or less
of sleep. That was indeed love. Still, even while
making it, his sense of philosophy told him the com-
parison was not a fair one.
Well, that was over another chapter in his life to
shut down. Now to make the best of life. Now,
with the means to taste its pleasures, with hard, firm
health to enjoy them; after all, what was a mere
sentimental grievance? Perhaps it counted for some-
thing, for all he told himself to the contrary. Per-
haps deep down there gnawed a restless craving, stifle
it as he would. Who can tell?
" The R. M. S. Alnwick Castle leaves for England
at 4 P. M."
Such was the notice which, posted up in shipping
office, or in the short paragraph column of the Cape
Town newspapers, met the public eye.
It was the middle of the morning. Laurence
Stanninghame, striving to kill the few hours remain-
ing to him on African soil, was strolling listlessly
along Adderley Street. A shop window, adorned
with photographic views of local scenery and types of
natives, mostly store-boys rigged up with shield and
340
"GOOD-BYE MY IDEAL!"
assegai to look warlike for the occasion, attracted
his attention, and for a while he stood, idly gazing at
these. His survey ended, he backed away from the
window in a perfectly irrational and British manner
on a busy thoroughfare, and trod hard on some-
body's toes. A little cry of mingled pain and resent-
ment, then he stood profusely apologizing.
But with the first tones of his voice, she whom he
had so awkwardly, if unintentionally damaged, seemed
to lose sight of her injuries. Her face blanched, but
not with physical pain, her lips parted in a sort of
gasp, and the sweet eyes, wide and dilated, sought his
in wonder almost in fear.
"Laurence!"
The name was hardly audible, but he heard it.
And if his steely philosophy had stood him in good
stead before, assuredly at this moment his guard was
down; as he recognized that he had last beheld this
serene vision of loveliness, arrayed as now in cool
white, strained to him in farewell embrace alone in
the solemn night, those parted lips pressed to his in
heart-wrung pain, those sweet eyes, starry, humid
with love, gazing full into his own. And now they
met again, four years later by chance in a busy
thoroughfare.
" Pray excuse my inexcusable awkwardness; I must
have hurt you," he said, as they clasped hands, and
the tone was even almost formal, for he remembered
they were in public.
" You you have changed. I should hardly
have known you but for your voice," she said un-
341
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER.
steadily for he had turned to walk up the street with
her. " But when did you return? I had not
heard."
" Had you not? I called on your aunt in Johannes-
burg on the way through. She was telling me all
about you."
Something of relief seemed to manifest itself in
Lilith's tone as she rejoined:
" But you are you staying here? "
" Well, no. I have been trying to kill time until
this afternoon. I am leaving by the Alnzvick Castle."
"Oh! By the Alnwick Castle?" she repeated
again and in the catch in her voice, and the quick-
ness of utterance, he knew she was talking at random,
for the sake of saying something, in fact.
" Do you care to hear a little of what has befallen
me since I went? " he said. " Then let us turn in
here," as she made a mute but eager gesture of assent.
They had gained the entrance to the oak avenue
at the back of Government House. Strolling up this,
they turned into the beautiful Botanical Gardens.
Nobody was about, save a gardener or two busied
with their work.
" What I am going to tell you is so marvellous that
you will probably refuse to believe it," he said, after
narrating the incident of the sign upon the metal box
which had arrested the uplifted weapons of the un-
sparing Ba-gcatya, and, of course, editing out all that
might have revealed the real nature of the expedition.
" I have never breathed one word of it to any living
being not even to those who were with me. I
would rather you did not either, Lilith, because it is
342
"GOOD-BYE MY IDEAL!"
too strange for anybody to believe, and for other
reasons."
She gave the required promise, and he drew forth
the box. At sight of this relic of the past, that sweet,
entrancing, if profitless past Lilith could no longer
quite keep herself in hand. The tears welled forth,
fall 
