The Kloof Bride; or, The Lover's Quest, etc

Front matter

THE KLOOF BRIDE BY TIIE SAME AUTHOR THE LOST HEIRESS THE FOSSICKER A FAIR COLONIST THE GOLDEN ROCK "mash allah!" cried the sheikh, gazing in astonishment at the slight figure, "this is a wonderful thing" '4 'J a THE KLOOF BRIDE OR THE LOVERS QUEST BY ERNEST GLANVILLE ~>v WITH 1'OUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. WILLIAMSON METHUEN & CO. 36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. LONDON CONTENTS CHAPTER PACE I. "the mission" I II. THE ARAB TRADER 12 III. IN CUSTODY 2J iv. the arab's retreat 32 V. THE MATCH 44 VI. PLANNING AN ESCAPE . . . 56 VII. THE TIGER IN PURSUIT . . . -67 VIII. TRACED ! 78 IX. STOFFEL AGAIN . . . . -91 X. ON THE GREAT RIVER .... 102 XI. UP THE RIVER 113 XII. THE DEVIL'S PIT 122 XIII. THE ISLAND PRISON . . . . 1 33 XIV. THE IMPI ....... 144 XV. THE BLACK LEAGUE 153 XVI. A TERRIBLE POSITION 1 65 XVII. ON THE TRAIL 1 73 XVIII. THE LONE KOPJE 1 84 XIX. LEAVING THE KOPJE 1 94 XX. THE JACKAL'S DEN 203 CONTENTS PAGE

CHAPTER XXI.

A surprise! . . • • ■ .212 XXII. THE ARAB CHIEF . . • • 221 XXIII. PREPARING FOR THE ATTACK . • 231 XXIV. THE ATTACK ....•• 240 XXV. THE RECOGNITION ..... 250 XXVI. AND THE PARTING 261 XXVII. IN PURSUIT 27 ' XXVIII. VALLEY OF THE DEAD .... 281 xxix. stoffel's threat ..... 291 XXX. THE EXPLOSION . . . . ■ 301 XXXI. VULTURES TO THE FEAST .... 310 XXXII. THE TROOPERS ...... 320 XXXIII. THE BUGLE CALL ..... 329 XXXIV. HAUNTED ....... 339 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PACE " MASH ALLAH," CRIED THE SHEIKH, GAZING IN ASTONISHMENT AT THE SLIGHT FIGURE, "THIS is a wonderful thing" . . Frontispiece HANS HOWLED AGAIN, FINISHING OFF WITH A FIENDISH LAUGH .... 69 THEY BOUND HIM TO THE POLE, WITH HIS FACE TO THE STAGNANT POOL . . 1 66 HE LIT HIS PIPE STANDING THERE BEFORE THEM, AS OVER HIS HANDS HE SOUGHT TO LOCATE HIS ENEMY THROUGH THE LEAVES OR, THE LOVER'S QUEST

Chapter I

"THE MISSION" I WOULD like very much to know if it is the same," muttered Miles Venning, abstractedly, as he studied the signature to a letter in his hand. Mr Venning was junior partner in the large Birmingham house of Lorimer & Co., and the letter was an important order for two thousand Martini-Henry rifles and 500,000 rounds of ball ammunition, the whole to be delivered, by a trusty agent of the firm, at Zanzibar. It was signed " R. Mark Sterndale." The order was covered by instructions to draw on the writer through a South African Bank, and a telegram to the manager at headquarters in London had met with a satisfactory reply. The senior partner having satisfied himself that the security was all right, had passed on the letter to Mr Venning with a recommendation to clear the order without delay.

" This is a serious matter," said Venning. " Would it not be better to delay until we have found out for whom these arms are intended ? " " That is stated. They are for Zanzibar." A "Exactly; but are they for the arming of the slave-dealers or native tribes in opposition to the British ? " "Excuse me, my dear fellow, but I haven't time to go into politics or possibilities. If you deal in weapons you must sell 'em ; and when you sell 'em you can't make stipulations. Just push that order through, there 's a good chap," and the senior bustled out of the room to make his way to the golf links. Miles Venning, still unconvinced, was frowning over the letter, when his eye was caught by the name of " R. Mark Sterndale." The name revived a memory. He forgot his scruples about the delivery of the arms in an absorbing recollection of an incident which happened to him the previous year in Wales.

How vividly the whole scene came back to him. Descending the steep northern side of the Foi Fas, he had come with a spring and a shout to the brim of a small dark lake, which he thought he had to himself, when a faint cry warned him of another presence, and looking round, he saw a girl standing beside a great boulder within a few yards of him. He lifted his hat with an apology for having startled her, when another glance showed that she held a trout-rod in her hand, with the top lowered in the water, and the line apparently fouled. "Allow me to help you," he said, with a smile, stepping from rock to rock. " I am an angler my self." " Thank you," with a vivid blush ; " but I can manage alone. Please go." She spoke quickly, almost angrily, and he was turning away, somewhat ruffled at her peremptory tone, when he saw that she was barefooted.

The next moment he was down on his knees gently moving the hook which was firmly fixed in the white instep. " The barb has gone right in," he said, cutting the gut. " Please sit down," he added, gently forcing her to a sitting position on the boulder. " I shall have to cut it out," he said, after a pause, looking up into her face. She nodded her head, with tight lips. Seizing the wounded foot firmly in one hand, he made a slight incision ; then, first pressing the hook down he gave a sharp tug and drew it out. The pain must have been excessive, but she made no cry. " I am afraid," he said, " I must have caused this accident by startling you as you were making a cast." " Yes, you did ; but I can manage now, thank you," and she took up her rod again, studiously turning her shoulder to him. " You must not fish any more.,: " Must not ?

" " Certainly. You must rest your foot. She was so young, so pretty, so helpless, that he felt he ought to take her up in his arms and carry her home, wherever that may have been. " I am all right," she said, in a voice that trembled slightly. " Please leave me." He lingered, reluctant to leave her in trouble. " It would be a real kindness if you would allow me to help you in some way." She put her wounded foot to the ground, and it trembled as she rested her weight on it. " How stupid," she said, sinking to the rock again. "I promised father he should have trout to his tea." " Ah," he said, with a smile, " your father must not be disappointed." Taking the rod, he walked along the banks to the rocky outlet where there was a ruffle on the waters, and very soon he was casting the fly with a deftness born of long experience.

He grew quite absorbed in his art, and it was not until a timid voice almost at his elbow told him that it was time for her to go that he realised how completely he had forgotten her. " Why didn't you warn me before ? " he said, still keeping his eyes fixed on the water, as he played with a last fish. "There," he added, drawing the fish to the shore, " that makes the round dozen. They are not large, but these lake trout are always sweet." " Thank you. I am sure my father will enjoy them ; and how surprised he will be, for he declared I would not catch one." She laughed joyfully, having forgotten her trouble, as he neatly bagged the catch with sweet scented heather, and a smile was on her lips when he looked at her again. Looking once, he looked again, with a growing wonder at her beauty, and a sense of astonishment that she had in an hour grown from a pretty child into a beautiful girl, gracious and self-possessed.

Her hair, neatly coiled under the little straw hat, was dark ; her eyes of a violet hue, shaded by long black lashes ; her chin smooth and rounded with a tiny dimple ; her features regular, and the rich complexion just slightly tanned by the mountain air. Her face sparkled with intelligence, and the erect young figure was the embodiment of grace and health. " You will, I hope, allow me to carry the basket," he said, with a touch of deference, adding, " my name is Venning — Miles Venning." " And do you think," she said, with a smile, " that such a belated introduction gives you the right to carry the fish you have caught? I warn you we have a long way to go, and the going will take time, for my foot is tender. Don't apologise again. It was my own awkwardness." She moved off then, and the way for half-a-mile was too rough for conversation, and he had been content to lag behind and watch her move along, using his walking-stick for a support.

After that, for a full hour, he had walked with her between old grey stone walls, then among leafy ways by the side of the tumbling trout stream, to the quaint village of Aber. Much he had learnt concerning her and her father, for having swiftly determined that this stranger was a gentleman, she treated him frankly, almost as if he had been an old friend. Right to the gate he had gone, and she had called her father from his easy-chair on the verandah to be introduced and to hear of the adventure. " My father, Mr Sterndale — Mr Venning," she had said ; " and see what a basket of trout." " Ah, Laura, my child, this comes of letting you go by yourself away among the mountains. I had a foreboding you would get into mischief," and the father, a tall, thin, dark man, with a grizzled mous tache, rested his hand affectionately on her shoulder "And are these all the thanks you have for these lovely fish ?

" "Certainly not, my dear; I was about to ask Mr Venning if he would do us the honour to take tea. The spoils to the victor, you know." Both father and daughter looked at him, and there was so much unaffected goodwill in their faces that he at once accepted. How well he remembered that evening. How vividly she had described over again the adventure, and how, like a big schoolboy, her father had chaffed her about her fishing ; and how, afterwards, when wishing good-bye, she had whispered to him " I 'm so glad you came. Father has not been so like his old self for months." Then the acquaintance, which had promised so much to him, had stopped. The next day he had been summoned back to business, and on returning several days later, he was bitterly disappointed to find that Mr and Miss Sterndale had gone.

Nor did his guarded inquiries discover anything of their whereabouts. And now, a year after, he had come upon the name again. " It may be the same," he muttered, staring at the signature. " I remember he talked of living in Africa. If it is, I wonder if she is with him." This thought grew upon him all that day, and in the night he worked himself into a fever about her, living perhaps among treacherous savages in some fever-stricken spot. With his mind in this uneasy state he slept, and sleeping he dreamt. He was on the banks of a great river, whose dark waters came swiftly from between towering walls of rock, and, as he stood, a great wave suddenly rising swept him off his feet and tossed him to a cavern in the rock, where he found stored many cases of rifles marked with the name of his firm.

And presently there came two men, one white and the other black, and the two of them removed the arms to the mouth of the cave ; and the river dis appeared, and in its place was a small valley, hemmed in by walls of rock, and in the valley were thousands of savage warriors to whom others were serving arms. Then he saw a hut in the woods and a girl at the door struggling with the white man who had entered the cave, and he tried in vain to go to her rescue, but each time there came between him and her a flood of black waters. He woke with a shudder, and even when awake he saw the face of this girl, and it was the face of the girl he had met in Wales. And when he slept once more he dreamt of her again, and, as before, she was in danger. " Well," said the senior partner next morning, " I hope you have cleared that order and found a man to take charge of the goods."

" I have decided to go myself. I have had no holiday, and besides, it would be well for one of us to visit Africa. You have said so, many times." " It would be deuced awkward for you to leave just now." " Why now more than at any other time ? What is the use of putting the visit off indefinitely ? " " Humph, my boy, you have grown hot on this very suddenly. The last time I suggested a trip you were not at all anxious. How long will you be away ? " "From two to three months. Three weeks to Zanzibar, four weeks there for business, and a trip into the game country, and three weeks returning." "Shooting, eh? You don't take into account the risk to life or the prospect of being captured by the niggers ? " " Oh, the country thereabouts is quite peaceful." " Very well, go by all means if you are bent on it.

But, mark my words, Miles, you will never get back in three months ; and if you go inland, I shall have to send an expedition after you." So Miles Venning took ship for a long voyage, on the slight chance that the Sterndale he had met the previous year was the author of the letter, and on the even more remote prospect that if the father were out in Africa the daughter would be with him. Miles was no longer very young. He was, in fact, on the shady side of thirty, and it had, for quite ten years, been a standing grievance with his women friends that he would not fall in love. His one married sister had given him up in despair as a hopeless bachelor after two separate desperate attempts to win him to matrimony, with the aid of one superior woman and a giddy girl, both of whom heartily disliked him from the outset.

The fact was that about the time when, in the ordinary course of a man's career, Miles should have been gaining his spurs in chivalrous attendance on dames, he was in South America, roughing it among all sorts of turbulent men and adventurous women, on the firm's business, and that experience had made him singularly reserved. No woman yet had had patience to discover if there was a nature worth knowing under his quiet exterior, and so he, without in any way being a woman-hater, had reached the years of thirty-five without having fallen a victim to a woman's charms. Even now, when on board the Indian liner on his way to Aden, he would not for one moment admit to himself that his decision had in any way been taken out of sentiment; and while he was in the Bay of Biscay, he began a systematic study from blue books of the people and country in Central Africa, under the belief, as he persuaded himself, that his real object was to develop the civilisation of the race by the sale of arms.

There was nothing but his solemnity that was at all repellent about Miles, and his solemnity was merely a habit. His figure was straight and athletic, his brown eyes clear and well-opened, and his manner as perfect as it could be in a man who never seemed to notice what a woman wore, and who never told stories in the smoking-room after ten o'clock. The men soon made up their minds that he was a " stick," all save three, equally silent, who seemed to take an extraordinary comfort from standing in one particular spot for an hour in the morning staring at the sea, or from walking steadily up and down the deck before dinner without speaking. They merely smoked and walked and turned in dumb sympathy. The women determined that he had a sorrow, and looked at him tenderly, until a bright little body decided the mystery.

While Miles was slowly pacing the deck, she dropped into a chair on his route, and as he passed allowed her book to drop to the deck from her listless fingers, while her wide eyes were fixed in silent absorption on the vast horizon. He picked the book up and held it out to her. But she gazed on with her chin in her hand. "You have dropped your book," he said, quietly. "How you startled me," she said, with a vivid blush. " But I was lost in wonder of the sea. Isn't it big?" "Yes," he said, turning to look at the heaving ocean as if a new light had been thrown on it. " It is big." " And so altogether hopelessly blue," she added, with a pathetic expression. "Yes, it is blue, isn't it?" " Now, you are laughing at me, Mr Venning, and I thought you would understand." She turned her big eyes upon him with such a reproachful look, and her little mouth trembled.

" I 'm sure I 'm not laughing," he said, earnestly. " Oh, I 'm so glad," she said, looking at him with rapt expression that made him almost nervous. " I knew — I felt that there must be some sympathy between us — there always is, you know, between people who let the sea into the secret of their sorrows — as you do." " Oh," he hastened to say, with a twinkle, " I 'm a good sailor." " You 're a fraud," she said, suddenly, eyeing him severely. " Don't suppose I didn't see that smile. Confess now that you have no sorrows, that you look at the sea for hours out of sheer idleness, and you mope about alone because you are too lazy to think. Half the women on the ship think you are in love." " I am sure I am honoured " " Stuff. You are not honoured in the least. We must talk about something, but I am sure I would be ashamed to seek sympathy in the forlorn guise of a rejected suitor."

" But I am in love and I am rejected," he said, with a laugh. "And yet you wonder why I am sad." " Pardon me, I said you were lazy." " It is about the same, is it not ? Love and lazi ness go together." " What a horrid sentiment ! " she said, and with drew to the sitting-room to assure the gossips that the melancholy passenger had neither romance nor imagination, upon which assurance they quietly ignored him. At Aden, six days after, he said "Good-bye" to the little lady. "You said I had no romance," he said, as he looked down into her sparkling face. " You will be surprised that I am going into Africa on the forlorn hope of meeting once more someone I love a great deal." The little lady's eyes went very big. " Is she black ? " she said, in a whisper. " She is as fair as you," he said, with a smile.

" I only met her once, and I don't know if I shall see her again." "Oh, why didn't you tell me?" she said, gently, studying his face with a new interest. " You must find her ; but of course you will, for you will never draw back while there is hope, will you ? " " No," he said. And when his goods were transhipped, and he put away from the arid coast, she waved her hand to him and cried, "Good luck, and a happy meet ing."

Chapter II The Arab Trader

"TT ROM Aden, Venning took passage in a coasting steamer to Zanzibar, and when the steamer anchored off the island and a swarm of boats put off to her, he searched eagerly among the few white men for the tall form and dark features of Mr Sterndale. There was no one, however, he recognised, and he was assuring himself that Mr Sterndale would after all remain ashore waiting for the report of the firm's agent, when a hand was laid on his shoulder. " Mr Venning, I believe ? " " Yes," he said, turning, and finding himself face to face with a stranger of great stature, with black curling beard, and a complexion so dark that it was almost coffee-coloured. " You are the agent for Lorimer & Co. and have a consignment of goods for delivery against the prepaid order of Mr Sterndale." " To whom have I the honour of talking ?

" " I am Mr Sterndale's representative. Stoffel is my name. Are the goods on board ?" " I should prefer to report to Mr Sterndale personally," said Miles, resenting the manner of the big man, which was abrupt and overbearing. The stranger produced a letter authorising the bearer to receive the goods and signed Mark Sterndale. " Is there any reason why I should not see Mr Sterndale ? " said Miles, after reading the letter and comparing the signature with the original order, which he produced from his pocket-book. " None whatever," said the stranger, with a laugh, " only he is not here to be seen. The letter of instruction to you is sufficient, I suppose. I would like the goods delivered at once. I have spoken to the first officer, and he has agreed, on re ceiving a word from you, to off-load at once.

That is my ship," and he pointed to a craft which was already tacking under sail to come alongside. "It appears, then," said Miles, as he noted the size of the craft, " that the goods are not for Zanzibar." " That is no business of yours," was the rough answer. " I am not so sure," replied Venning, calmly. " I must have a guarantee that these weapons are not to be used against the British, and that you are a fit person to receive them." "Is there anything else you want?" " I must know also who Mr Sterndale is, and where he is." The stranger was about to make an angry re joinder when the first officer came up. " About these cases, Mr. Venning, may I swing them over as soon as that craft's alongside?" " Not just now, please ; there is a slight difficulty to be settled." " That 's awkward. They are blocking the way, and we must be off in three hours."

" There 's a short way out of this," said the stranger, gruffly. "Let Mr Venning step on board my boat and keep guard of his precious goods while I go ashore to fetch someone who will vouch for me." " How will that do, sir ? " " I suppose I must be satisfied." "Either that, or I must carry them on to Durban." "Are arms usually delivered in this haphazard way ? " "Lor' bless you, yes. We make no bones, I assure you, about getting rid of 'em any more than we would about spirits, which are a long sight more deadly to the niggers." All right," said Miles. "I agree." Forward there," said the mate. " Look alive with those cases." "Now, you lubbers" — this to the men in the craft, which was scraping the ship — " fend her off. Where d' ye come from that you don't know enough to put out buffers? A lot of half-caste Portuguese beach tramps," he muttered to Venning, as the man Stoffel went off to go ashore.

Miles looked over the side down into the boat, which was a craft of about 200 tons, carrying one sail, and manned by an ill -looking lot of coloured men quite unlike the Zanzibaris. The cases were swung out and lowered into the ship's hold in the quickest time, and long before the stranger returned from the town, Venning, seated on his own luggage, was watching the steamer making out of harbour with a feeling of despond ency, not at all diminished when he noticed the crew were preparing as if for a voyage. He had leisure to study them at near quarters, and the first bad impression he had of them when looking down from the deck of the steamer was, if anything, intensified. Not only were the men dirty and ill looking, but they smelt horribly of spirits, and in a jargon of Portuguese made insolent remarks about him among themselves, which, though he fully understood the drift of, he fortunately ignored.

For, presently, he heard two men, who appeared to have some authority, make a reference to Tette, which he well knew was a Portuguese outpost on the Zambesi. " No, my friend," said one, " I go no farther than Tette. Stoffel — may he be cursed — can do the rest himself. He likes too well that others should take the danger." " Yet he pays well." " What is good pay if the body cannot enjoy the spending ? No, for my part I am done when this voyage is over. I will marry and rest. There are three girls I can buy with a musket, and it will go hard, friend Jose, if some of these do not find their way to my lodge," and the man kicked one of the cases. " I hear that Stoffel himself — may the devil take his soul — will have another wife." " Well, he has the means here to set up a home wherever he goes, and take to himself as many wives as a black chief."

" It is not a black girl he is thinking of, if what I hear be true. Where think you he will find a sale for these guns — among the Arabs ? " " Not so, friend ; but what matters, so that we get our share? Let us stand in with Stoffel — may his children be crooked ! — and it would be an easy matter to upset a boat-load at some likely spot we know of on the Zambesi." The two rascals clasped hands on their bargain, and fell into talk on their future plans. Miles understood, and the longer he thought over the matter the deeper grew his conviction that there was some mystery underlying the whole business, and he was resolved that he would not give up the goods unless thoroughly satisfied. But he for got that he was alone. It was not until close on dusk that the stranger climbed on board from a small shore boat, and his first word was an order in Portuguese to the crew to weigh anchor.

"What is the meaning of this?" said Miles, angrily. " The meaning is, sir, that I am about to sail." "Where to?" " That, as I said before, is my business. Is this all your luggage ? Over with it into the boat or the sea," he shouted ; " and," he added, turning on Miles with a scowl, " over with you." Taken completely by surprise, Miles stood silent. " Clear out," said the stranger, taking a step for ward, " the ship is mine, and the cargo also." " But," replied Miles, steadily, " you went ashore on a distinct promise made to me." " I went ashore, sir, to clear the ship and pay harbour dues, and that I have done. You have no further business with me, nor I with you, thank Heaven ! Shake out the sails, you lazy hounds." " Before I go, will you tell me who Mr Sterndale is?" " I '11 see you damned first.

Let go the boat's painter. There goes your boat, Englander, and you '11 have to jump." "You brute," said Miles. "If I had my way I 'd not let you have a single rifle ; and I '11 take care to warn the coast officials and slave-catchers." The man who had unloosened the painter still held on, when the stranger snatched the rope from his hand and threw it overboard. "There," he said, turning to Miles with a laugh, "you'll have to swim now." For answer, Venning stretched the man out, big as he was, with a straight blow, and springing to the wheel put the ship aback, and calling to the boatman to come alongside, slipped down just as Stoffel rose to his feet. Flinging a word to the crew, the big man went to the side, wiping the blood from his face. " That was smart," he shouted, in an admiring tone.

" Verdom ! I didn't think you were up to such work." Astonished by the friendly tone where he had expected a volley of abuse, Miles shouted back an apology, and then once more tried to get infor mation of Mr Sterndale. " Oh no," said the other, " that is not my style, my friend. Well, so long." The ship went round, and very soon was a black smudge in the deepening gloom, while Venning, feeling very crestfallen, was rowed to the landing. As he stepped ashore, he was greeted by an Arab trader whose white dress gleamed out of the darkness. " I am honoured, sir, Mr Venning," he said, with overdone obsequiousness, " if you will accept of the hospitality of my house. Mr Stoffel did warn me of your honourable coming, and I have long waited to receive." B " Oh," said Venning, with an unpleasant re collection of what the Portuguese sailor had said of this man Stoffel.