• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

'Who told you?'

'Simon Keer. The Reverend Simon Keer. Oh, at the public meetings he extolled your brother. So did your mother. But when I spoke with Keer alone, what do you think he said? That Hilary's a bit of an ass. Those were his words. He said I might be able to do something with him, the LMS certainly wasn't able to.'

'He told you that?'

'What else could he tell me, if I asked him in all honesty?' 'But Keer's the reason ... He sent Hilary to Africa.' 'What he said was "Some young men, especially from Oxford . . ."' 'Natural envy from a man without an education.' "'.,. some young men from Oxford take religion too seriously. It addles them."'

'But Keer marches up and down England, lecturing about the missions.'

'He does so for a purpose, Richard. He wants to end slavery. Doesn't give a damn about religion ... in the old sense.'

'What do you mean?'

'And neither do I.'

The blasphemy staggered Saltwood, and he sat down abruptly, whereupon Vera confided in a rush of words that it had been she, not her mother, who was desperate to find a husband. She loathed being a spinster, the afternoon teas, the sober dresses. Hilary, off in Africa, had been a last chance and she had grabbed at him. 'Your mother was so afraid I'd be put off by the long sea voyage.' She laughed nervously. 'I'd have fought my way aboard this ship. It was my last chance.'

Richard had never heard a woman talk this way, had never imagined that a Lambton of Salisbury could. And now the girl was saying, 'The journey's changed everything. You're no longer responsible for me. I'm going to marry Thomas.'

'No minister would'

'Then we'll marry ourselves. When we reach South Africa he'll go to his land, and I'll go with him.'

'But Hilary will be there. Waiting.'

She did not even reply to that. She laughed in a way that caused her shoulders to shake, after which she took Richard by the arm, pulled him to his feet, and helped him out the door. She would discuss the matter no further, and that night both Richard and the captain could again hear rumbles from the adjoining cabin.

'You goin' to shoot 'em?' the captain asked.

'No! No! Stop such questions.'

'Then I will.' And there had to be a scuffle before Richard could wrest the captain's revolver from him. But this did not deter the violent young man, who felt that somehow his honor, and that of his regiment, had been impugned, for he burst out of his cabin, knocked loudly on the adjoining door, and demanded that Carleton go below 'to your proper quarters, damn you.' When the young wagon builder tried to slip past, the captain swung a mighty blow at his head, knocking him down the ladder.

'I hope he broke his neck,' the officer growled as he returned to bed, and after some painful moments of silence he felt compelled to say, 'Salt-wood, I can understand why you had to leave the regiment. You were a disgrace to the uniform.' For two days he refused to speak to his cabin mate, but on the third day, with tears in his eyes, he clasped Saltwood's hand as if they were brothers and said, 'Richard, dear boy, is there anything I can do to help?'

'There is,' Saltwood replied in deep gratitude. 'When we stop at Cape Town, have that miserable blighter thrown ashore. I promised Mother I'd deliver this girl to Hilary, and by God, I shall, damaged or not.'

So when the Alice Grace put in for replenishing, none of the passengers belowdecks were allowed ashore, for they were docketed to Algoa Bay, three weeks more sailing along the coast. But the young wagon builder who had dared to make love to a lady of quality was thrown onto the wharf, with his axes and angles, while the lady of quality wept for him from the railing.

She was rudely dragged away by Richard, who said with fierce determination, 'You must go on to Hilary. As you promised Mother.' And all the time the Alice Grace stayed in Cape Town, she was kept prisoner in her cabin, guarded by the brother-in-law who stood guard outside, relinquishing