40+ Adventure Novels & Lost World Mysteries in One Premium Edition. Henry Rider Haggard

/tendresse/ you may have had in that direction. Eva' (that is the woman to whom I wrote, and to whom I thought I was engaged) 'is going to be married to a Mr. Plowden, a gentleman who has been acting as /locum tenens/ for Mr. Halford.'"

      Here Jeremy sprang up, and swore a great oath. Ernest motioned him down, and went on:

      "'I say I am certain that you will be glad to hear this, because the match is in every respect a satisfactory one, and will, I am sure, bring dear Eva happiness. Mr. Plowden is well off, and, of course, a clergyman--two great guarantees for the success of their matrimonial venture. Eva tells me that she had a letter from you last mail' (the letter I read you, gentlemen), 'and asks me to thank you for it. If she can find time, she will send you a line shortly; but, as you will understand, she has her hands very full just at present. The wedding is to take place at Kesterwick Church on the 17th of May' (that is to-morrow, gentlemen), 'and, if this letter reaches you in time, I am sure you will think of us all on that day. It will be very quiet owing to our dear aunt's death being still so comparatively recent. Indeed, the engagement has, in obedience to Mr. Plowden's wishes--for he is very retiring--been kept quite secret, and you are absolutely the first person to whom it has been announced. I hope that you will feel duly flattered, sir. We are very busy about the trousseau and just now the burning question is, of what colour the dress in which Eva is to go away in after the wedding shall be. Eva and I are all for grey. Mr. Plowden is for olive-green, and, as is natural under the circumstances, I expect that he will carry the day. They are together in the drawing-room setting it now. You always admired Eva (rather warmly once; do you remember how cut up you both were when you went away? Alas for the fickleness of human nature!); you should see her now. Her happiness makes her look lovely; but I hear her calling me. No doubt they /have/ settled the momentous question. Good-bye. I am not clever at writing, but I hope that my news will make up for my want of skill.--Always yours,

      "'Florence Ceswick.'

      "Now for the enclosure," said Ernest.

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

      "'E.'"

      "Humph!" murmured Alston beneath his breath. "As I thought--clay, and damned bad clay, too!"

      Slowly Ernest tore the letter into small fragments, threw them down, and stamped upon them with his foot as though they were a living thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

      "Stop, Ernest," said Mr. Alston, with a shrug; "you might be taken at your word, and you wouldn't like that, you know. Besides, it is cowardly to go on cursing at a woman."

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

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

      "What man?"

      "This Plowden. I fear that I shall disturb his honeymoon."

      "What do you mean?"

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

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

      "If he had cut me out fairly, I should not have a word to say. Every man for himself in this pleasant world. But, mark my words, this parson and Florence have forced Eva into this unholy business, and I will have his life in payment. If you don't believe me, ask Jeremy. He saw something of the game before he left."

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

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

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

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

      "I will prevent you," he answered, sternly. "I am your superior officer, and the corps you belong to is not disbanded. If you try to leave this place you shall be arrested as a deserter. Now don't be a fool, lad; you have killed one man, and got out of the mess. If you kill another you will not get out of it. Besides, what will the satisfaction be? If you want revenge, be patient. It will come. I have seen something of life; at least, I am old enough to be your father, and I know that you think me a cynic because I laugh at your 'high-falutin' about women. How justly I warned you, you see now. But, cynic or not, I believe in the God above us, and I believe, too, that there is a rough justice in this world. It is in the world principally that people expiate the sins of the world; and if this marriage is such a wicked thing as you think, it will bring its own trouble with it, without any help from you. Time will avenge you. Everything comes to him who can wait."

      Ernest's eyes glittered coldly as he answered:

      "I cannot wait. I am a ruined man already; all my life is laid waste. I wish to die, but I wish to kill him before I die."

      "So sure as my name is Alston, you shall not go!"

      "So sure as my name is Kershaw, I /will/ go!"

      For a moment the two men faced one another; it would have been hard to say which looked the most determined. Then Mr. Alston turned and left the room and the house. On the verandah he paused and considered for a moment.

      "The boy means business," he thought to himself. "He will try and bolt. How can I stop him? Ah, I have it!" And he set off briskly towards Government house, saying aloud as he went, "I love that lad too well to let him destroy himself over a jilt."

      CHAPTER XII

       ERNEST RUNS AWAY

       Table of Content

      When Alston left the room, Ernest sat down on the bed again.

      "I am not going to be domineered over by Alston," he said excitedly; "he presumes upon his friendship."

      Jeremy came in and sat beside him, and took hold of his arm.

      "My dear fellow, don't talk like that. You know he means kindly by you. You are not yourself just yet. By-and-by you will see things in a different light."

      "Not myself, indeed! Would you be yourself,