The covenant - James A. Michener [265]
As the quartet rode into Grahamstown, Hilary pointed out the little houses that had seemed like secure fortresses that day when he faced the screaming Xhosa, and he showed Emma the site on which Tjaart van Doorn had saved his life.
As they rode down the principal street they came to the spacious parade ground where a small church stood on land which would be occupied later by a fine cathedral, and another of Richard's Hottentot servants hailed the procession to say that Baas was at the shop of Carleton, the wagon builder, so the horses were turned in that direction while the slave hurried on ahead, shouting, 'De Reverend kom! Look, he kom!' And to the door of the rude shed in which Carleton worked came his wife, his friend Richard Saltwood and lively Julie, the intended bride. All four looked up at the horsemen and saw Hilary sitting high among them.
'Hullo, Hilary,' Richard said with the casualness that had always marked his behavior toward his brother. 'Glad you could come.'
'Hello, Richard. I hear God has blessed you with a bride. He has blessed me, too. This is my wife, Emma.'
From her horse the petite Madagascan smiled warmly at the two women, then nodded to their men. She remembered them later as four gaping mouths: 'They were astounded, Hilary. Didn't you see them, four mouths wide open?'
No one spoke. Emma, with a deep sense of propriety, felt that it was not her duty to do so first, since she was being presented to them, but they were too dumbstruck even to speak to Hilary, let alone his extraordinary wife. Finally the missionary said, 'We'd better dismount,' and he extended his hand to his wife.
The story sped through Grahamstown: 'That damned fool Saltwood's married a Xhosa bitch.'
It was an agonizing three days. No one knew where to put Emma, or how to feed her, or what to say to her. They were surprised to learn that she could speak good English and write much better than Julie. She was modest, of good deportment, but very black. There was no way to alleviate the awfulness of her reality, no explanation that could soften the dreadful fact that a decent Englishman, although a missionary, had married one of his Xhosa Kaffirs. When it was pointed out that she was really a Madagascan, one man said, 'Know the place well. The bastards ate my uncle.' And now a rumor circulated that Emma had been a cannibal.
Richard quietly insisted that the marriage proceed as planned, with his brother officiating, and the temporary church was crowded, most of the spectators having come to see the cannibal. It was a moving ceremony, filled with the soaring phrases of the Church of England wedding ritual, perhaps the most loving in the civilized world.
'Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable state, instituted of God in the time of man's innocency . . . which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee . . . Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health ... so long as ye both shall live . . . forsaking all others ... for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part . . .'
When Hilary intoned these mighty words, standing tall and gaunt, like someone St. Paul might have ordained in Ephesus, he gave them special
meaning, for it seemed to him that he was solemnizing not only his brother's marriage but his own, and when he came to the cry, ' "O Lord save thy servant and thy handmaid!" ' he felt that he was asking blessing upon himself, and some of the congregation suspected this and looked with horrid fascination at Emma, wondering if she could qualify as a handmaiden whose fate concerned God.
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