CHAPTER XVII.

THE STORM BREAKS

And now it was that the trouble which at first had been but a cloud as

large as a man’s hand began to loom very black and big upon our

horizon, namely, Sorais’ preference for Sir Henry. I saw the storm

drawing nearer and nearer; and so, poor fellow, did he. The affection

of so lovely and highly-placed a woman was not a thing that could in a

general way be considered a calamity by any man, but, situated as

Curtis was, it was a grievous burden to bear.

To begin with, Nyleptha, though altogether charming, was, it must be

admitted, of a rather jealous disposition, and was sometimes apt to

visit on her lover’s head her indignation at the marks of what Alphonse

would have called the “distinguished consideration” with which her

royal sister favoured him. Then the enforced secrecy of his relation to

Nyleptha prevented Curtis from taking some opportunity of putting a

stop, or trying to put a stop, to this false condition of affairs, by

telling Sorais, in a casual but confidential way, that he was going to

marry her sister. A third sting in Sir Henry’s honey was that he knew

that Good was honestly and sincerely attached to the ominous-looking

but most attractive Lady of the Night. Indeed, poor Bougwan was wasting

himself to a shadow of his fat and jolly self about her, his face

getting so thin that his eyeglass would scarcely stick in it; while

she, with a sort of careless coquetry, just gave him encouragement

enough to keep him going, thinking, no doubt, that he might be useful

as a stalking-horse. I tried to give him a hint, in as delicate a way

as I could, but he flew into a huff and would not listen to me, so I

was determined to let ill alone, for fear of making it worse. Poor

Good, he really was very ludicrous in his distress, and went in for all

sorts of absurdities, under the belief that he was advancing his suit.

One of them was the writing—with the assistance of one of the grave and

revered signiors who instructed us, and who, whatever may have been the

measure of his erudition, did not understand how to scan a line—of a

most interminable Zu-Vendi love-song, of which the continually

recurring refrain was something about “I will kiss thee; oh yes, I will

kiss thee!” Now among the Zu-Vendi it is a common and most harmless

thing for young men to serenade ladies at night, as I believe they do

in the southern countries of Europe, and sing all sorts of nonsensical

songs to them. The young men may or may not be serious; but no offence

is meant and none is taken, even by ladies of the highest rank, who

accept the whole thing as an English girl would a gracefully-turned

compliment.

Availing himself of this custom, Good bethought him that he would

serenade Sorais, whose private apartments, together with those of her

maidens, were exactly opposite our own, on the further side of a narrow

courtyard which divided one section of the great palace from another.

Accordingly, having armed himself with a native zither, on which, being

an adept with the light guitar, he had easily learned to strum, he

proceeded at midnight—the fashionable hour for this sort of

caterwauling—to make night hideous with his amorous yells. I was fast

asleep when they began, but they soon woke me up—for Good possesses a

tremendous voice and has no notion of time—and I ran to my window-place

to see what was the matter. And there, standing in the full moonlight

in the courtyard, I perceived Good, adorned with an enormous ostrich

feather head-dress and a flowing silken cloak, which it is the right

thing to wear upon these occasions, and shouting out the abominable

song which he and the old gentleman had evolved, to a jerky, jingling

accompaniment. From the direction of the quarters of the maids of

honour came a succession of faint sniggerings; but the apartments of

Sorais herself—whom I devoutly pitied if she happened to be there—were

silent as the grave. There was absolutely no end to that awful song,

with its eternal “I will kiss thee!” and at last neither I nor Sir

Henry, whom I had summoned to enjoy the sight, could stand it any

longer; so, remembering the dear old story, I put my head to the window

opening, and shouted, “For Heaven’s sake, Good, don’t go on talking

about it, but _kiss_ her and let’s all go to sleep!” That choked him

off, and we had no more serenading.

The whole thing formed a laughable incident in a tragic business. How

deeply thankful we ought to be that even the most serious matters have

generally a silver lining about them in the shape of a joke, if only

people could see it. The sense of humour is a very valuable possession

in life, and ought to be cultivated in the Board schools—especially in

Scotland.

Well, the more Sir Henry held off the more Sorais came on, as is not

uncommon in such cases, till at last things got very queer indeed.

Evidently she was, by some strange perversity of mind, quite blinded to

the true state of the case; and I, for one, greatly dreaded the moment

of her awakening. Sorais was a dangerous woman to be mixed up with,

either with or without one’s consent. At last the evil moment came, as

I saw it must come. One fine day, Good having gone out hawking, Sir

Henry and I were sitting quietly talking over the situation, especially

with reference to Sorais, when a Court messenger arrived with a written

note, which we with some difficulty deciphered, and which was to the

effect that “the Queen Sorais commanded the attendance of the Lord

Incubu in her private apartments, whither he would be conducted by the

bearer”.

“Oh my word!” groaned Sir Henry. “Can’t you go instead, old fellow?”

“Not if I know it,” I said with vigour. “I had rather face a wounded

elephant with a shot-gun. Take care of your own business, my boy. If

you will be so fascinating you must take the consequences. I would not

be in your place for an empire.”

“You remind me of when I was going to be flogged at school and the

other boys came to console me,” he said gloomily. “What right has this

Queen to command my attendance, I should like to know? I won’t go.”

“But you must; you are one of her officers and bound to obey her, and

she knows it. And after all it will soon be over.”

“That’s just what they used to say,” he said again. “I only hope she

won’t put a knife into me. I believe that she is quite capable of it.”

And off he started very faintheartedly, and no wonder.

I sat and waited, and at the end of about forty-five minutes he

returned, looking a good deal worse than when he went.

“Give me something to drink,” he said hoarsely.

I got him a cup of wine, and asked what was the matter.

“What is the matter? Why if ever there was trouble there’s trouble now.

You know when I left you? Well, I was shown straight into Sorais’

private chamber, and a wonderful place it is; and there she sat, quite

alone, upon a silken couch at the end of the room, playing gently upon

that zither of hers. I stood before her, and for a while she took no

notice of me, but kept on playing and singing a little, and very sweet

music it was. At last she looked up and smiled.

“‘So thou art come,’ she said. ‘I thought perchance thou hadst gone

about the Queen Nyleptha’s business. Thou art ever on her business, and

I doubt not a good servant and a true.’

“To this I merely bowed, and said I was there to receive the Queen’s

word.

“‘Ah yes, I would talk with thee, but be thou seated. It wearies me to

look so high,’ and she made room for me beside her on the couch,

placing herself with her back against the end, so as to have a view of

my face.

“‘It is not meet,’ I said, ‘that I should make myself equal with the

Queen.’

“‘I said be seated,’ was her answer, so I sat down, and she began to

look at me with those dark eyes of hers. There she sat like an

incarnate spirit of beauty, hardly talking at all, and when she did,

very low, but all the while looking at me. There was a white flower in

her black hair, and I tried to keep my eyes on it and count the petals,

but it was of no use. At last, whether it was her gaze, or the perfume

in her hair, or what I do not know, but I almost felt as though I was

being mesmerized. At last she roused herself.

“‘Incubu,’ she said, ‘lovest thou power?’

“I replied that I supposed all men loved power of one sort or another.

“‘Thou shalt have it,’ she said. ‘Lovest thou wealth?’

“I said I liked wealth for what it brought.

“‘Thou shalt have it,’ she said. ‘And lovest thou beauty?’

“To this I replied that I was very fond of statuary and architecture,

or something silly of that sort, at which she frowned, and there was a

pause. By this time my nerves were on such a stretch that I was shaking

like a leaf. I knew that something awful was going to happen, but she

held me under a kind of spell, and I could not help myself.

“‘Incubu,’ she said at length, ‘wouldst thou be a king? Listen, wouldst

thou be a king? Behold, stranger, I am minded to make thee king of all

Zu-Vendis, ay and husband of Sorais of the Night. Nay, peace and hear

me. To no man among my people had I thus opened out my secret heart,

but thou art an outlander and therefore I speak without shame, knowing

all I have to offer and how hard it had been thee to ask. See, a crown

lies at thy feet, my lord Incubu, and with that fortune a woman whom

some have wished to woo. Now mayst thou answer, oh my chosen, and soft

shall thy words fall upon mine ears.’

“‘Oh Sorais,’ I said, ‘I pray thee speak not thus’—you see I had not

time to pick and choose my words—‘for this thing cannot be. I am

betrothed to thy sister Nyleptha, oh Sorais, and I love her and her

alone.’

“Next moment it struck me that I had said an awful thing, and I looked

up to see the results. When I spoke, Sorais’ face was hidden in her

hands, and as my words reached her she slowly raised it, and I shrank

back dismayed. It was ashy white, and her eyes were flaming. She rose

to her feet and seemed to be choking, but the awful thing was that she

was so quiet about it all. Once she looked at a side table, on which

lay a dagger, and from it to me, as though she thought of killing me;

but she did not take it up. At last she spoke one word, and one only—

“‘_Go!_’

“And I went, and glad enough I was to get out of it, and here I am.

Give me another cup of wine, there’s a good fellow, and tell me, what

is to be done?”

I shook my head, for the affair was indeed serious. As one of the poets

says,

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,”

more especially if the woman is a queen and a Sorais, and indeed I

feared the very worst, including imminent danger to ourselves.

“Nyleptha had better be told of this at once,” I said, “and perhaps I

had better tell her; she might receive your account with suspicion.”

“Who is captain of her guard tonight?” I went on.

“Good.”

“Very well then, there will be no chance of her being got at. Don’t

look surprised. I don’t think that her sister would stick at that. I

suppose one must tell Good of what has happened.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sir Henry. “It would hurt his feelings, poor

fellow! You see, he takes a lively personal interest in Sorais.”

“That’s true; and after all, perhaps there is no need to tell him. He

will find out the truth soon enough. Now, you mark my words, Sorais

will throw in her lot with Nasta, who is sulking up in the North there,

and there will be such a war as has not been known in Zu-Vendis for

centuries. Look there!” and I pointed to two Court messengers, who were

speeding away from the door of Sorais’ private apartments. “Now follow

me,” and I ran up a stairway into an outlook tower that rose from the

roof of our quarters, taking the spyglass with me, and looked out over

the palace wall. The first thing we saw was one of the messengers

speeding towards the Temple, bearing, without any doubt, the Queen’s

word to the High Priest Agon, but for the other I searched in vain.

Presently, however, I spied a horseman riding furiously through the

northern gate of the city, and in him I recognized the other messenger.

“Ah!” I said, “Sorais is a woman of spirit. She is acting at once, and

will strike quick and hard. You have insulted her, my boy, and the

blood will flow in rivers before the stain is washed away, and yours

with it, if she can get hold of you. Well, I’m off to Nyleptha. Just

you stop where you are, old fellow, and try to get your nerves straight

again. You’ll need them all, I can tell you, unless I have observed

human nature in the rough for fifty years for nothing.” And off I went

accordingly.

I gained audience of the Queen without trouble. She was expecting

Curtis, and was not best pleased to see my mahogany-coloured face

instead.

“Is there aught wrong with my Lord, Macumazahn, that he waits not upon

me? Say, is he sick?”

I said that he was well enough, and then, without further ado, I

plunged into my story and told it from beginning to end. Oh, what a

rage she flew into! It was a sight to see her, she looked so lovely.

“How darest thou come to me with such a tale?” she cried. “It is a lie

to say that my Lord was making love to Sorais, my sister.”

“Pardon me, oh Queen,” I answered, “I said that Sorais was making love

to thy lord.”

“Spin me no spiders’ webs of words. Is not the thing the same thing?

The one giveth, the other taketh; but the gift passes, and what matters

it which is the most guilty? Sorais! oh, I hate her—Sorais is a queen

and my sister. She had not stooped so low had he not shown the way. Oh,

truly hath the poet said that man is like a snake, whom to touch is

poison, and whom none can hold.”

“The remark, oh Queen, is excellent, but methinks thou hast misread the

poet. Nyleptha,” I went on, “thou knowest well that thy words are empty

foolishness, and that this is no time for folly.”

“How darest thou?” she broke in, stamping her foot. “Hast my false lord

sent thee to me to insult me also? Who art thou, stranger, that thou

shouldst speak to me, the Queen, after this sort? How darest thou?”

“Yea, I dare. Listen. The moments which thou dost waste in idle anger

may well cost thee thy crown and all of us our lives. Already Sorais’

horsemen go forth and call to arms. In three days’ time Nasta will

rouse himself in his fastnesses like a lion in the evening, and his

growling will be heard throughout the North. The ‘Lady of the Night’

(Sorais) hath a sweet voice, and she will not sing in vain. Her banner

will be borne from range to range and valley to valley, and warriors

will spring up in its track like dust beneath a whirlwind; half the

army will echo her war-cry; and in every town and hamlet of this wide

land the priests will call out against the foreigner and will preach

her cause as holy. I have spoken, oh Queen!”

Nyleptha was quite calm now; her jealous anger had passed; and putting

off the character of a lovely headstrong lady, with a rapidity and

completeness that distinguished her, she put on that of a queen and a

woman of business. The transformation was sudden but entire.

“Thy words are very wise, Macumazahn. Forgive me my folly. Ah, what a

Queen I should be if only I had no heart! To be heartless—that is to

conquer all. Passion is like the lightning, it is beautiful, and it

links the earth to heaven, but alas it blinds!

“And thou thinkest that my sister Sorais would levy war upon me. So be

it. She shall not prevail against me. I, too, have my friends and my

retainers. There are many, I say, who will shout ‘Nyleptha!’ when my

pennon runs up on peak and pinnacle, and the light of my beacon fires

leaps tonight from crag to crag, bearing the message of my war. I will

break her strength and scatter her armies. Eternal night shall be the

portion of Sorais of the Night. Give me that parchment and the ink. So.

Now summon the officer in the ante-room. He is a trusty man.”

I did as I was bid! and the man, a veteran and quiet-looking gentleman

of the guard, named Kara, entered, bowing low.

“Take this parchment,” said Nyleptha; “it is thy warrant; and guard

every place of in and outgoing in the apartments of my sister Sorais,

the ‘Lady of the Night’, and a Queen of the Zu-Vendi. Let none come in

and none go out, or thy life shall pay the cost.”

The man looked startled, but he merely said, “The Queen’s word be

done,” and departed. Then Nyleptha sent a messenger to Sir Henry, and

presently he arrived looking uncommonly uncomfortable. I thought that

another outburst was about to follow, but wonderful are the ways of

woman; she said not a word about Sorais and his supposed inconstancy,

greeting him with a friendly nod, and stating simply that she required

his advice upon high matters. All the same there was a look in her eye,

and a sort of suppressed energy in her manner towards him, that makes

me think that she had not forgotten the affair, but was keeping it for

a private occasion.

Just after Curtis arrived the officer returned, and reported that

Sorais was _gone_. The bird had flown to the Temple, stating that she

was going, as was sometimes the custom among Zu-Vendi ladies of rank,

to spend the night in meditation before the altar. We looked at each

other significantly. The blow had fallen very soon.

Then we set to work.

Generals who could be trusted were summoned from their quarters, and as

much of the State affairs as was thought desirable was told to each,

strict injunctions being given to them to get all their available force

together. The same was done with such of the more powerful lords as

Nyleptha knew she could rely on, several of whom left that very day for

distant parts of the country to gather up their tribesmen and

retainers. Sealed orders were dispatched to the rulers of far-off

cities, and some twenty messengers were sent off before nightfall with

instructions to ride early and late till they reached the distant

chiefs to whom their letters were addressed: also many spies were set

to work. All the afternoon and evening we laboured, assisted by some

confidential scribes, Nyleptha showing an energy and resource of mind

that astonished me, and it was eight o’clock before we got back to our

quarters. Here we heard from Alphonse, who was deeply aggrieved because

our non-return had spoilt his dinner (for he had turned cook again

now), that Good had come back from his hawking and gone on duty. As

instructions had already been given to the officer of the outer guard

to double the sentries at the gate, and as we had no reason to fear any

immediate danger, we did not think it worth while to hunt him up and

tell him anything of what had passed, which at best was, under the

peculiar circumstances of the case, one of those tasks that one prefers

to postpone, so after swallowing our food we turned in to get some

much-needed rest. Before we did so, however, it occurred to Curtis to

tell old Umslopogaas to keep a look-out in the neighbourhood of

Nyleptha’s private apartments. Umslopogaas was now well known about the

place, and by the Queen’s order allowed to pass whither he would by the

guards, a permission of which he often availed himself by roaming about

the palace during the still hours in a nocturnal fashion that he

favoured, and which is by no means uncommon amongst black men

generally. His presence in the corridors would not, therefore, be

likely to excite remark. Without any comment the Zulu took up his axe

and departed, and we also departed to bed.

I seemed to have been asleep but a few minutes when I was awakened by a

peculiar sensation of uneasiness. I felt that somebody was in the room

and looking at me, and instantly sat up, to see to my surprise that it

was already dawn, and that there, standing at the foot of my couch and

looking peculiarly grim and gaunt in the grey light, was Umslopogaas

himself.

“How long hast thou been there?” I asked testily, for it is not

pleasant to be aroused in such a fashion.

“Mayhap the half of an hour, Macumazahn. I have a word for thee.”

“Speak on,” I said, now wide enough awake.

“As I was bid I went last night to the place of the White Queen and hid

myself behind a pillar in the second anteroom, beyond which is the

sleeping-place of the Queen. Bougwan (Good) was in the first anteroom

alone, and outside the curtain of that room was a sentry, but I had a

mind to see if I could pass in unseen, and I did, gliding behind them

both. There I waited for many hours, when suddenly I perceived a dark

figure coming secretly towards me. It was the figure of a woman, and in

her hand she held a dagger. Behind that figure crept another unseen by

the woman. It was Bougwan following in her tracks. His shoes were off,

and for so fat a man he followed very well. The woman passed me, and

the starlight shone upon her face.”

“Who was it?” I asked impatiently.

“The face was the face of the ‘Lady of the Night’, and of a truth she

is well named.

“I waited, and Bougwan passed me also. Then I followed. So we went

slowly and without a sound up the long chamber. First the woman, then

Bougwan, and then I; and the woman saw not Bougwan, and Bougwan saw not

me. At last the ‘Lady of the Night’ came to the curtains that shut off

the sleeping place of the White Queen, and put out her left hand to

part them. She passed through, and so did Bougwan, and so did I. At the

far end of the room is the bed of the Queen, and on it she lay very

fast asleep. I could hear her breathe, and see one white arm lying on

the coverlid like a streak of snow on the dry grass. The ‘Lady of the

Night’ doubled herself thus, and with the long knife lifted crept

towards the bed. So straight did she gaze thereat that she never

thought to look behind her. When she was quite close Bougwan touched

her on the arm, and she caught her breath and turned, and I saw the

knife flash, and heard it strike. Well was it for Bougwan that he had

the skin of iron on him, or he had been pierced. Then for the first

time he saw who the woman was, and without a word he fell back

astonished, and unable to speak. She, too, was astonished, and spoke

not, but suddenly she laid her finger on her lip, thus, and walked

towards and through the curtain, and with her went Bougwan. So close

did she pass to me that her dress touched me, and I was nigh to slaying

her as she went. In the first outer room she spoke to Bougwan in a

whisper and, clasping her hands thus, she pleaded with him, but what

she said I know not. And so they passed on to the second outer room,

she pleading and he shaking his head, and saying, ‘Nay, nay, nay’. And

it seemed to me that he was about to call the guard, when she stopped

talking and looked at him with great eyes, and I saw that he was

bewitched by her beauty. Then she stretched out her hand and he kissed

it, whereon I gathered myself together to advance and take her, seeing

that now had Bougwan become a woman, and no longer knew the good from

the evil, when behold! she was gone.”

“Gone!” I ejaculated.

“Ay, gone, and there stood Bougwan staring at the wall like one asleep,

and presently he went too, and I waited a while and came away also.”

“Art thou sure, Umslopogaas,” said I, “that thou hast not been a

dreamer this night?”

In reply he opened his left hand, and produced about three inches of a

blade of a dagger of the finest steel. “If I be, Macumazahn, behold

what the dream left with me. The knife broke upon Bougwan’s bosom and

as I passed I picked this up in the sleeping-place of the White Queen.”