War to the Knife 53

War to the Knife 53

Alike in beauty, though one possessed the blue eyes, the abundant fair

hair, the delicate rose-bloom of the mother isle; the other the ebon

tresses, the flashing eyes, burning from time to time with a strange

lustre;--alike their classic figures and graceful movement, each might

have stood, had there been a painter in attendance, as the realization

of the glories and graces of early womanhood.

 

Hypatia took the initiative. "Of course Mr. Summers, all of us indeed,

will be too happy to be of service in such a sad case. And what is the

name of the wounded man? I am very pleased to meet you."

 

"And I also," said the Maori maiden. "You will speak to him, will you

not? Perhaps you may have seen him before."

 

Walking to the litter, a rude but efficient couch, Hypatia looked

down upon the wounded soldier, who tried feebly to raise himself. The

wasted form and drawn features of the sick man startled her, while in

the bearded face and pallid brow, from which he feebly essayed to push

back the clustering curls, she almost failed to recognize Roland de

Massinger.

 

For one moment she gazed in horror and dismay, then taking his wasted

hand and bending over his couch, the once calm and self-repressed

Hypatia Tollemache covered her face with her hands and wept like a

child.

 

"You know each other," said the forest maiden, in a deep low voice. "I

thought perhaps it might be _you_--you for whose sake he came to our

unhappy land, for whose sake he now lies, perhaps dying."

 

"Erena!" said the sick man, "what are you saying? Surely you are not

angry with Miss Tollemache? Is it her fault that I loved her once? Let

it be sufficient that now I love you. Give me your hand."

 

With a look of ineffable tenderness, she gave her hand obediently as

does a child.

 

"Miss Tollemache--Hypatia," he said, "she saved my life; will you not

be friends?"

 

A brighter gleam came into the tearful eyes of the English girl. "You

are more noble than I," she said. "His life has been given to you, to

save and retain. Let us be sisters."

 

They clasped hands with the fervour of generous youth, ere the passions

that rend and ravage have darkened the spirit. As their eyes met, the

wounded man looked up with a faint smile.

 

The state of Massinger's health necessitated more than one day's

sojourn at Oropi. However, on the following morning a marked

improvement had taken place, so that it was decided in council that a

farther stage might be reached on the way to Tauranga after the day's

rest. The sufferer had been allotted the chief guest-chamber, a modest

apartment, but exquisitely clean, whence looking forth on the mission

garden, the fruit trees and old-fashioned English flowers recalled that

beloved home-land which he had almost despaired of seeing again.

 

At the evening meal Erena, who had caused one of her dusky handmaidens

to bring from the camp a mysterious package, appeared in European

costume. Quietly but well dressed according to the fashion of the day,

it was a revelation to her entertainers and to Hypatia to mark the ease

and self-possession which she exhibited in her new part. The soft rich

voice, the perfect intonation, the repose of her manner, through which

but an occasional flash of emotion showed itself; the total absence of

gesture which, in her other habiliments, seemed natural to her;--all

these, as Hypatia admitted to herself, placed this antipodean maiden

on a perfect equality with the best specimens of European society.

When together they saw to the comfort of their patient, nothing could

have surpassed the good taste and delicacy of her ministrations.

Without making parade of proprietorship in the helpless sufferer, she

assumed the rank of his _fiancée_, appearing equally confident of her

companion's acceptance of that of friend and well-wisher.

 

In the case of many other women, her frank trust might possibly have

been misplaced. But the justice and generosity which were the leading

qualities of Hypatia Tollemache's nature, rendered her perfectly safe

as a companion, precluded by every impulse from conspiring against her

happiness.

 

As for Mrs. Summers and her husband, they were completely fascinated

by her, holding that the reputation which she enjoyed for beauty and

intelligence was even less than her due.

 

Hypatia, it may be, in the seclusion of her chamber, reflected, as

other maidens have been known to do, on perhaps the too hasty dismissal

of a lover so brave, so loyal, in every respect so worthy of woman's

holiest devotion. She had, against her heart's inclination, against

his fervent appeals, resolved to give her life to the regeneration of

the race, to the reform of the social system, to the alteration of a

condition of things which the efforts of saints, philosophers, rulers,

and prophets throughout nearly two thousand years had failed materially

to change. "Who was she," it now seemed to be inquired of her, by an

inward voice that would not be stilled, "that she should presume to

expect to move this colossal structure, so firmly rooted in the usages

of immemorial custom?"

 

In her first efforts, she had been discouraged and disillusioned. In

this her second endeavour, what had she effected? As a direct result of

her hasty and inconsiderate action, Massinger had abandoned home and

friends, rushed away for distraction to this Ultima Thule, at the very

end of the habitable globe, where he was now lying between life and

death. And, as if that was not a sufficiently dolorous conclusion, his

life had been saved by the courage and devotion of another woman, to

whom his faith was justly, irrevocably pledged. The full bitterness of

her position was reached, when she acknowledged to herself that in her

heart of hearts she was now conscious of feelings which before she had

only suspected.

 

But Hypatia Tollemache, strong and deeply seated as were her primal

emotions, was no lovesick girl to bewail herself over the inevitable;

to chafe to morbid unrest against Destiny, that ancient force, which

even the gods of an earlier world were powerless to disturb. No! "a

perfect woman nobly planned," she accepted the blame of her mistaken

act, as it now appeared to her, and facing, as she had full many a time

and oft done before, an uncongenial part in life's mysterious drama,

resolved to follow unswervingly the path marked out for her by duty

and principle. Was she to falter, to fail, because the unexpected had

happened; because life's thorny path had become difficult, well-nigh

impenetrable? "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is

but small," said the wise king. More than once in time of trial had she

braced up her courage by recalling the warning. Once more she looked

the conflict of the future firmly in the face, and leaving her chamber

with fixed resolve and earnest prayer, felt a renewed confidence in her

ability to withstand, to undergo, whatever trials might be in store for

her.

 

On the following morning, which had been fixed for the departure of

the sick man and his attendants, it was evident that another day

would be required for restoring his strength, which had been much

drawn upon by the journey. He was most anxious to proceed; but Mr.

Summers, who was not without some knowledge of medicine, as well as

practical experience, distinctly forbade his removal. "It would be most

dangerous," he asserted; "and at least twenty-four hours' additional

rest was required before the patient could think of pursuing the

journey." Mrs. Summers also pleaded with Erena, who, though manifestly

anxious to reach a place of safety, consented to remain one more day.

 

"Do you think there is danger?" asked her gentle hostess. "I thought

the war was all over."

 

"The fight at Orakau is over, the last stand at Te Ranga was made

in vain; but the war is still in the hearts of the Waikato and the

Ngaiterangi," said the Maori girl. "My father has enemies, and I, even

I, have those who wish me evil. There is one whom I fear for _his_

sake"--here she intimated the room wherein Massinger lay. "It is hard

to know where he will strike."

 

"But do you think he would come here?" said Mrs. Summers, turning

pale. "We have never done anything but work and teach and pray for the

welfare of the natives."

 

"When blood has been once shed, there is little thought of good or

evil. And besides the old custom of revenge, a new religion has sprung

up among the tribes, called the 'Pai Marire.' They have a false

prophet, Te Ua, who persuades them that the pakehas are doomed to

destruction. They also carry about with them the head of an officer

of the 57th, whom they surprised at Ahuahu, and perform sacred rites

around it."

 

"What a dreadful thing!" said Mrs. Summers, rapidly approaching a

state of terror and amazement. "But surely they have always spared the

missionaries?"

 

"The new teaching is that all the missionaries are to be killed," said

the girl. "We have heard that Mr. Grace has been threatened, and Mr.

Fulloon's house burned."

 

"But will not the troops protect us?" urged Mrs. Summers. "I thought

they were quite close now?"

 

"They have marched to Te Awamutu. I was told so by a native woman

yesterday," said Erena. "She said, besides, that Ngarara, the man who

has sworn to revenge himself upon Roland, is out with a _taua_, or

war-party, and may at any time surprise us."

 

"I suppose that is the reason you were so anxious to get on?"

 

"Partly, yes. And, besides, I did not wish to bring trouble on your

household. But we must go forward tomorrow, and perhaps what I am

afraid of may never come to pass."

 

The day was mild and pleasant, though a louring sky had promised

otherwise in the early part of the morning. Massinger was able to be

moved into the sitting-room, and there, refreshed by his morning meal

and the change of situation, declared that he felt strong enough to

travel in the afternoon.

 

"We have arranged otherwise," said Erena, with a mock assumption of

authority. "One day will not make much difference. I am going to the

camp for an hour, so I will leave you to the care of Miss Tollemache."

Here she smiled playfully at Hypatia, who had just entered the room. "I

dare say you are anxious to have a talk together."

 

"How trusting and unsuspicious she is!" thought Hypatia. "Having once

received his troth, she is absolutely sure of his fidelity. She has a

noble nature, and, from me at least, she need not fear any disloyalty."

 

Mrs. Summers had already left the room. Then the man and the maiden

who had last met under such widely different circumstances in another

land, were once more free to have speech, undisturbed by the presence of onlookers.