CHAPTER XX

CAPTAIN BROOKE

"What man would risk the danger twice, Nor quake from head to heel? Whom would not one such test suffice?" --A. C. SWINBURNE.

Not Melicent herself looked forward to the moment of meeting with more eagerness than did the Bishop elect of Pretoria. He had been through many anxieties during his first months of guardianship; and his gratitude to the Helstons was immense. It was most natural that he should look forward with interest to a sight of the girl he had saved.

She was not present in the drawing-room when the three men arrived, but the cordiality of the Helstons' reception was delightful. Lance was grateful to them for including his friend, a big, silent man, who had been with much difficulty persuaded to come. Brenda assured him that six was a far better number than five, and made him welcome with sincerity which could not fail to please.

"But he wouldn't have come at all; he would have held out obstinately," said Lance gaily, "but for one thing, one mysterious reason, which will transpire later. You needn't blush, Brooke."

"Haven't the least intention of it; don't play the fool, Burmester. I suppose it was natural for an outsider to feel that he was intruding on a party of friends who were meeting after long separation."

"Just as well for you to become acquainted now, for you'll be sure to meet at Fransdale," said Lance easily. "I suppose you are going up for Easter, Mrs. Helston, and I am taking Brooke and the Bishop to Ilbersdale."

As he spoke, the door opened, and all three men turned to watch Melicent as she came in.

She had rather more colour than usual, and her expression was strangely arresting. Her evening gown was white, and trailed over the soft carpet with a delicate rustling. She walked straight up to Carol Mayne, her eyes shining, her two hands outstretched: and he caught them in his, meeting her glance with the piercing, deep-set eyes she remembered so well of old.

"Well!" he cried. "So this is you! How thankful I ought to be that my responsibilities are over! Ah, well, I don't think I should have known you, if I had met you in the street, but I am beginning to recognise the eyes, the brow! The smile is new. I never saw that in Africa; did I, Miss Lutwyche?"

She looked up gravely, but with a certain kindled enthusiasm, far more impressive than a girl's laughter.

"_Miss Lutwyche!_" she said reproachfully. "I shall not allow that. As for you, you are not a bit changed. I should know you anywhere--Bond Street, or darkest Africa."

"What about me, Miss Lutwyche?" cried Lance pleadingly.

"You have improved," she said, with an air of critical appraisement. "You are not nearly so--lady-like as you used to be."

They all laughed.

"Are you still a crack shot, as you used to be?" he cried.

"I shoot every autumn. I have improved," she replied demurely.

When Captain Brooke had been presented, they all sat down, and the talk hung fire a little.

"It is too big," said Melicent, with a little sigh. "There is so much to say, we don't know where to begin. Mr. Mayne, I know, is thinking of me with my hair in a pig-tail, and a calico frock, slouching across the yard with a copper bucket; and Mr. Burmester is thinking of a time when I was locked up in disgrace in the Vicarage schoolroom, and not allowed to go to a picnic; and Captain Brooke is thinking how disagreeable it is of people to have reminiscences he cannot share."

Captain Brooke smiled a little.

"I am thinking that it is hard to fancy you in a calico dress with a copper bucket," he said.

Melicent was suddenly grave.

"People who have always lived in England don't realise," she said absently. "We dwell in a kind of Garden of Eden here, and nobody appreciates it. They should go to some place such as I was brought up in, and learn what thorns and briars lie outside the garden gates."

"I saw a good deal of it during the campaign," the soldier answered. "A good deal of outer darkness, I mean."

"Does England seem good after it?" she asked.

"Exactly what you say. Like the Garden of Eden."

At the moment dinner was announced, and they went into the dining-room.

"I suppose," said Melicent, who was seated next Mr. Mayne, "that it is of no use to ask you after old acquaintance? It is so long since you left Slabbert's Poort?"

"Well," he answered, "I have kept up with one or two of the folks there. But the general scatter, when the war broke out, made great changes, though, as you know, the place was never in the line of march. Marten Brandt still owns the Vierkleur."

"I often meant to ask you in my letters what became of Otis?"

"The great Amurrica? It is reported that he made himself notorious in the Boer Irish brigade, but later on--after the capture of Kroonstadt--he turned up on the British side, got a commission in a scallywag corps, how I know not, and is quite a great person now."

"Not sure he ain't a colonel; I knocked up against the beast," said Lance. "Remember hearing about Gouverneur J. Otis, eh Brooke? Remember the story of Sal's Drift and the stampede of the gun mules?"

The two men laughed, as at a common memory.

"Worst of him was, the brute was so witty," said Lance. "I believe all our officers knew he was not to be trusted, but they made no end of a fuss with him. Daresay he'll be turning up in England soon, in some swell house that's been lent as a convalescent home, and flirt with all the titled girls as bold as you please."

"Let's see; he was the chap who got his head punched by Millie's Boer champion, wasn't he?" asked Mr. Helston.

His wife gave him a warning glance. Young Burmester was present, and he knew nothing of the girl's vicissitudes, nor was it desirable that he should. Besides, there was a stranger among them. She could see, by the way he instantly began to speak, that Mayne was as desirous as she to turn the subject; but Lance had caught the word.

"Hallo, Miss Lutwyche! had you begun breaking heads and hearts, even before you came over?" he asked gaily, across the table.

"Boers don't trouble about hearts," said the girl, with composure. "We were a pastoral people, and never did anything interesting. It is you from whom we expect tales of prowess. Did you never escape in a goods train, or scale a prison wall, or--"

"As to that," said Lance, "I've a magnificent yarn, all ready for telling, only this beggar"--indicating his friend, who sat next to him and opposite Millie--"tried, before he would come here to-night, to get me to promise not to tell."

Melicent had wholly succeeded in turning away the subject. The silent captain reddened, looked morose, and was heard to murmur that Burmester was a rotter.

"I hope you were not so rash as to make the promise in question?" cried Brenda.

"Well, do you know, as far as to-night goes, I'm afraid I did!" owned Lance.

"You did," said Brooke distinctly.

"But the fact of it is," said Lance lightly, "that he saved my life. Ever heard it said that if you save a man's life, he's sure to do you a bad turn? Look out for me, Brooke."

"I'll look out for myself," was the unamiable reply.

"But it's only if you save from drowning that the proverb applies," said the host.

"Well, this was drowning. River suddenly rose while the column was crossing; and the last men got washed away. But this is spoiling my yarn. I'll keep it for when Brooke isn't about."

"I told you I should spoil sport if I came," said Brooke grimly.

Melicent looked at him with some amusement

He was a fair man, severely tanned by exposure. He was clean-shaven, and the salient feature of his face was his large, finely-cut, strong yet delicate mouth: a mouth which lifted his otherwise rough-hewn face up to a different level, and made it full of possibilities. With such a mouth a man might be a poet, a soldier, a statesman; but whatever he was, that he would thoroughly be. He was also shy, to an extent that was amusing in such a Hercules. When he spoke, he muttered: and he hardly ever raised his eyes.

The gentlemen did not linger over their wine. Mayne was anxious to talk to Melicent of her future, and Lancelot was astonished at himself for the anxiety he felt to return to the drawing-room. He remembered a day when he had seen a slip of a girl seated on Tod's Trush, and how he had said to Helston: "One is conscious of a personality." He was vividly conscious of it now. It was the "indefinable something" that Melicent possessed. She never spoke much, but always gave the fascinating impression of vast reserves behind, of a boundless store from which she could give more, and always more.

He was vexed with Mrs. Helston for engaging him at some length in talk, which she did advisedly, to allow Carol to talk to the girl.

It was with interest and satisfaction that Mayne listened to her, and found out how soon she hoped to be self-supporting, and how close were the ties that bound her to her friends. There seemed no cloud upon her horizon; life, which had begun so stormily seemed, like many a rainy English morn, to be breaking out into a cloudless sky.

"But there is one thing I want to ask you about," said Melicent presently. "I have one wrinkle among my rose-leaves. It is only a little thing, yet at times I fear it I have a constant dread that ... you know who ... may turn up. I expect it is very silly of me. Men soon forget these things; and in so long a time, he is sure to have forgotten. But I have wished to see you, to make sure. I didn't like to write about it. I can't help a dreadful kind of feeling rushing over me at times, that he..." she looked round. Nobody was in hearing but Captain Brooke, idly turning over music on the piano; she dropped her voice--"that Bert Mestaer--may still think he has a claim on me."

There was a silence, which the chat of the group by the fire did not seem to break. Captain Brooke earnestly studied the song he was reading.

"That idea--the idea that Mestaer might still think of you--would not be pleasant to you?" asked Mayne.

"Pleasant?" the word was a gasp. "But you see the life that is mine now," she said tremulously. "You remember the house of bondage--the darkness and shadow of death."

"Bert Mestaer wanted to loose your bonds."

"Oh, no! Only to bind me to another master!"

"I think you wrong him there, Melicent."

She turned towards him, put out one hand, and laid it on his.

"It was you who saved me; you delivered my soul from the snare of the hunter," she said. "If Mestaer let me go, you were the only man that could have persuaded him. You know it; we need not discuss it. What I want you to tell me is, whether you have seen or heard anything of him; whether he is alive or dead."

"He was certainly alive when I left Africa. He did splendidly during the war. I believe he is considered the finest scout in the British army. I feel sure I may take it upon myself to say, on his behalf, that he will never make himself obnoxious to you. You need be in no fear of him."

"He has forgotten all that nonsense about me?"

"I don't exactly know what you mean by nonsense, Millie. If you mean his love for you, I don't think I can truly say that he has forgotten."

She made a little sound of dismay.

"But he is in process of forgetting--he must be!" she cried. "Anyhow, he doesn't expect me to start off to Africa to keep the promise he says I made?"

"Nothing could be farther from his thoughts, I assure you."

"Well, that is what I wanted to be sure of! Now I shall breathe freely again. I will confess to you now, that I had a terrible moment this evening. Mater said Mr. Burmester had come home, and laughed and asked me to guess who was with him! I leaped to the conclusion that it was Bert Mestaer, and I suddenly found myself in the grip of a blind terror. I thought I should faint, all the horror of that dreadful time came back so clearly. I don't think I could have faced him...."

But Lance was no longer to be held back. He broke away from his captors, and came towards Millie, calling for a song. Captain Brooke, who still stood forlorn and rigid by the piano, leaning his chin on his hand, was roughly pushed away. Melicent sat down without shyness, and sang two or three ballads in a voice that--like herself--was small and flexible and very distinctive. The last thing she sang was that wonderful little piece of inspiration,

"The night has a thousand eyes."

Captain Brooke was turning over for her.

"That's very true," he said,

"'The mind has a thousand eyes, The heart but one,'"

he repeated thoughtfully.

"Yes," she answered; "yet many people seem content with the one! I suppose all women used to be! Think what an awful fate, to look on life merely as a matter of sentiment! The thousand eyes are better, don't you think so?"

"I never tried," he answered simply.

The reply struck her as remarkable, but she had no time to reflect upon it, for Lance again struck in:

"Seems to me wonderful, with a profession of your own, that you should find time to learn to sing so beautifully," he said.

"The singing is my recreation," she replied, "the other my serious work."

"Ah!" cried Lance, "and that reminds me of old Brooke's business and the reason why he came here to-night! Do you know, Miss Lutwyche, Brooke wants to build a house, and he's been reading a paragraph in the _Hauberk_ about a lady architect."

Melicent grew pink, and looked down.

"Captain Brooke won't want to give his work to such a complete novice," she said demurely. "Now that he has seen me, he will want to retire gracefully from his intention, and you put him in a cruel dilemma by mentioning it."

"I like trying experiments," said the Captain, with more animation than he had yet displayed.

Everyone was now crowding with interest around the music-stool where Melicent sat.

"What and where would your house be, Captain Brooke?" asked Helston.

"It would be in my--my--the place my people come from," he replied. "It's in Wiltshire."

"Wiltshire! That's a variable county; on Salisbury Plain?"

"No; it's a pretty village. Clunbury, they call it."

"What kind of house do you think of building?"

"I should leave that entirely to Miss Lutwyche."

"I say, Melicent, here's your chance!" cried Helston mischievously. "You'll be able to send another paragraph to the _Hauberk_?"

"How dare you?" she cried, threatening him in mock rage. "Oh ... but this is wonderful! Are you serious, Captain Brooke?"

"Quite. I have bought the land. Only about twenty acres. I should like your advice about the actual site of the house."

"Well, Millie, if you give satisfaction over this, your career is made," cried Brenda.

"But what kind of house do you want?" cried the girl. "You must tell me that!"

"No; that's what I shall pay you to tell me," said Millie's client calmly. He smiled for the first time, as he added: "You have the thousand eyes."

"Well!" said Melicent, "the agitations of this day have been quite too much for me!"

"Do your people live at Clunbury?" asked Helston of the Captain.

"Oh, no; not now. They sold their last acre in my grandfather's time. A churchyard full of their graves is all that is left. It is, however, a part of their land that I have bought back."

"That is the kind of thing I would like to do myself," said Carol Mayne.

"Now, Miss Lutwyche, is the house rising before your mind's eye?" cried Lance, pleased at the intense interest created by the scheme.

"Not yet," said Melicent; but her eyes were dreamy. "What kind of people were your forbears?" she asked the Captain.

"Merely yeomanry," he answered, "and wholly Philistine; people with one eye."

"And do you want the house to resemble them in tone?" she asked, smiling at his allusion.

"No. I want it to be the typical house that is in your mind; the house you would live in, if you could choose."

She laughed.

"Take care! You don't know how lordly my ideas may be! You will have to bring them down to the level of estimates."

"Do you want the thing put in hand at once?" asked Helston.

"Yes, I do. I should like Miss Lutwyche to come down and look at the site before I go to Ilbersdale for Easter."

"Well, Millie, you must make up your mind! Do you accept the order?" cried Carol Mayne.

"I should like to come down and look at the site before I finally say Yes," said she. "And ask Captain Brooke all manner of questions."

"That will suit me well," he replied gravely. "To-day is Monday. Shall we say Thursday?"