the story of an african farm-第18章

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〃I　am　going　to　the　cabin；〃　he　said；　out　of　breath。



〃You　won't　find　them　in　just　nownot　your　good　old　father；〃　said

Bonaparte。



〃Where　is　he？〃　asked　the　lad。



〃There；　beyond　the　camps；〃　said　Bonaparte；　waving　his　hand　oratorically

toward　the　stone…walled　ostrich…camps。



〃What　is　he　doing　there？〃　asked　the　boy。



Bonaparte　patted　him　on　the　cheek　kindly。



〃We　could　not　keep　him　any　more；　it　was　too　hot。　　We've　buried　him；　my

boy；〃　said　Bonaparte；　touching　with　his　finger　the　boy's　cheek。　　We

couldn't　keep　him　any　more。　　He；　he；　he！〃　laughed　Bonaparte；　as　the　boy

fled　away　along　the　low　stone　wall；　almost　furtively；　as　one　in　fear。



。。。



At　five　o'clock　Bonaparte　knelt　before　a　box　in　the　German's　room。　　He　was

busily　unpacking　it。



It　had　been　agreed　upon　between　Tant　Sannie　and　himself；　that　now　the

German　was　gone　he；　Bonaparte；　was　to　be　no　longer　schoolmaster；　but

overseer　of　the　farm。　　In　return　for　his　past　scholastic　labours　he　had

expressed　himself　willing　to　take　possession　of　the　dead　man's　goods　and

room。　　Tant　Sannie　hardly　liked　the　arrangement。　　She　had　a　great　deal　more

respect　for　the　German　dead　than　the　German　living；　and　would　rather　his

goods　had　been　allowed　to　descend　peacefully　to　his　son。　　For　she　was　a

firm　believer　in　the　chinks　in　the　world　above；　where　not　only　ears；　but

eyes　might　be　applied　to　see　how　things　went　on　in　this　world　below。　　She

never　felt　sure　how　far　the　spirit…world　might　overlap　this　world　of　sense；

and；　as　a　rule；　prudently　abstained　from　doing　anything　which　might　offend

unseen　auditors。　　For　this　reason　she　abstained　from　ill…using　the　dead

Englishman's　daughter　and　niece；　and　for　this　reason　she　would　rather　the

boy　had　had　his　father's　goods。　　But　it　was　hard　to　refuse　Bonaparte

anything　when　she　and　he　sat　so　happily　together　in　the　evening　drinking

coffee；　Bonaparte　telling　her　in　the　broken　Dutch　he　was　fast　learning　how

he　adored　fat　women；　and　what　a　splendid　farmer　he　was。



So　at　five　o'clock　on　this　afternoon　Bonaparte　knelt　in　the　German's　room。



〃Somewhere；　here　it　is；〃　he　said；　as　he　packed　the　old　clothes　carefully

out　of　the　box；　and；　finding　nothing；　packed　them　in　again。　　〃Somewhere　in

this　room　it　is；　and　if　it's　here　Bonaparte　finds　it；〃　he　repeated。　　〃You

didn't　stay　here　all　these　years　without　making　a　little　pile　somewhere；　my

lamb。　　You　weren't　such　a　fool　as　you　looked。　　Oh；　no！〃　said　Bonaparte。



He　now　walked　about　the　room；　diving　his　fingers　in　everywhere：　　sticking

them　into　the　great　crevices　in　the　wall　and　frightening　out　the　spiders；

rapping　them　against　the　old　plaster　till　it　cracked　and　fell　in　pieces；

peering　up　the　chimney；　till　the　soot　dropped　on　his　bald　head　and

blackened　it。　　He　felt　in　little　blue　bags；　he　tried　to　raise　the　hearth…

stone；　he　shook　each　book；　till　the　old　leaves　fell　down　in　showers　on　the

floor。



It　was　getting　dark；　and　Bonaparte　stood　with　his　finger　on　his　nose

reflecting。　　Finally　he　walked　to　the　door；　behind　which　hung　the　trousers

and　waistcoat　the　dead　man　had　last　worn。　　He　had　felt　in　them；　but


hurriedly；　just　after　the　funeral　the　day　before；　he　would　examine　them

again。　　Sticking　his　fingers　into　the　waistcoat　pockets；　he　found　in　one

corner　a　hole。　　Pressing　his　hand　through　it；　between　the　lining　and　the

cloth；　he　presently　came　into　contact　with　something。　　Bonaparte　drew　it

fortha　small；　square　parcel；　sewed　up　in　sail…cloth。　　He　gazed　at　it；

squeezed　it；　it　cracked；　as　though　full　of　bank…notes。　　He　put　it　quickly

into　his　own　waistcoat　pocket；　and　peeped　over　the　half…door　to　see　if

there　was　any　one　coming。　　There　was　nothing　to　be　seen　but　the　last　rays

of　yellow　sunset　light；　painting　the　karoo　bushes　in　the　plain；　and　shining

on　the　ash…heap；　where　the　fowls　were　pecking。　　He　turned　and　sat　down　on

the　nearest　chair；　and；　taking　out　his　pen…knife；　ripped　the　parcel　open。　

The　first　thing　that　fell　was　a　shower　of　yellow　faded　papers。　　Bonaparte

opened　them　carefully　one　by　one；　and　smoothed　them　out　on　his　knee。　　There

was　something　very　valuable　to　be　hidden　so　carefully；　though　the　German

characters　he　could　not　decipher。　　When　he　came　to　the　last　one；　he　felt

there　was　something　hard　in　it。



〃You've　got　it；　Bon；　my　boy！　you've　got　it！〃　he　cried；　slapping　his　leg

hard。　　Edging　nearer　to　the　door；　for　the　light　was　fading；　he　opened　the

paper　carefully。　　There　was　nothing　inside　but　a　plain　gold　wedding…ring。



〃Better　than　nothing！〃　said　Bonaparte；　trying　to　put　it　on　his　little

finger；　which；　however；　proved　too　fat。



He　took　it　off　and　set　it　down　on　the　table　before　him；　and　looked　at　it

with　his　crosswise　eyes。



〃When　that　auspicious　hour；　Sannie；〃　he　said；　〃shall　have　arrived；　when；

panting；　I　shall　lead　thee；　lighted　by　Hymen's　torch；　to　the　connubial

altar；　then　upon　thy　fair　amaranthine　finger；　my　joyous　bride；　shall　this

ring　repose。



〃Thy　fair　body；　oh；　my　girl；

　Shall　Bonaparte　possess；

　His　fingers　in　thy　money…bags；

　He　therein；　too；　shall　mess。〃



Having　given　utterance　to　this　flood　of　poesy；　he　sat　lost　in　joyous

reflection。



〃He　therein；　too；　shall　mess；〃　he　repeated　meditatively。



At　this　instant；　as　Bonaparte　swore；　and　swore　truly　to　the　end　of　his

life；　a　slow　and　distinct　rap　was　given　on　the　crown　of　his　bald　head。



Bonaparte　started　and　looked　up。　　No　riem　or　strap；　hung　down　from　the

rafters　above；　and　not　a　human　creature　was　near　the　door。　　It　was　growing

dark；　he　did　not　like　it。　　He　began　to　fold　up　the　papers　expeditiously。　

He　stretched　out　his　hand　for　the　ring。　　The　ring　was　gone！　　Gone；　although

no　human　creature　had　entered　the　room；　gone；　although　no　form　had　crossed

the　doorway。　　Gone！



He　would　not　sleep　there；　that　was　certain。



He　stuffed　the　papers　into　his　pocket。　　As　he　did　so；　three　slow　and

distinct　taps　were　given　on　the　crown　of　his　head。　　Bonaparte's　jaw　fell：　

each　separate　joint　lost　its　power：　　he　could　not　move；　he　dared　not　rise；

his　tongue　lay　loose　in　his　mouth。



〃Take　all；　take　all！〃　he　gurgled　in　his　throat。　　〃II　do　not　want　them。　

Take〃



Here　a　resolute　tug　at　the　grey　curls　at　the　back　of　his　head　caused　him　to

leap　up；　yelling　wildly。　　Was　he　to　sit　still　paralyzed；　to　be　dragged　away

bodily　to　the　devil？　　With　terrific　shrieks　he　fled；　casting　no　glance

behind。



。。。



When　the　dew　was　falling；　and　the　evening　was　dark；　a　small　figure　moved

toward　the　gate　of　the　furthest　ostrich…camp；　driving　a　bird　before　it。　

When　the　gate　was　opened　and　the　bird　driven　in　and　the　gate　fastened；　it

turned　away；　but　then　suddenly　paused　near　the　stone　wall。



〃Is　that　you；　Waldo？〃　said　Lyndall；　hearing　a　sound。



The　boy　was　sitting　on　the　damp　ground　with　his　back　to　the　wall。　　He　gave

her　no　answer。



〃Come；〃　she　said；　bending　over　him；　〃I　have　been　looking　for　you　all　day。〃



He　mumbled　something。



〃You　have　had　nothing　to　eat。　　I　have　put　some　supper　in　your　room。　　You

must　come　home　with　me；　Waldo。〃



She　took　his　hand；　and　the　boy　rose　slowly。



She　made　him　take　her　arm；　and　twisted　her　small　fingers　among　his。



〃You　must　forget；〃　she　whispered。　　〃Since　it　happened　I　walk；　I　talk；　I

never　sit　still。　　If　we　remember；　we　cannot　bring　back　the　dead。〃　　She　knit

her　little　fingers　closer　among　his。　　〃Forgetting　is　the　best　thing。　　He

did　watch　it　coming；〃　she　whispered　presently。　　〃That　is　the　dreadful

thing；　to　see　it　coming！〃　　She　shuddered。　　〃I　want　it　to　come　so　to　me　too。

Why　do　you　think　I　was　driving　that　bird？〃　she　added　quickly。　　〃That　was

Hans；　the　bird　that　hates　Bonaparte。　　I　let　him　out　this　afternoon；　I

thought　he　would　chase　him　and　perhaps　kill　him。〃



The　boy　showed　no　sign　of　interest。



〃He　did　not　catch　him；　but　he　put　his　head　over　the　half…door　of　your　cabin

and　frightened　him　horribly。　　He　was　there；　busy　stealing　your　things。　

Perhaps　he　will　leave　them　a