Marie eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 371 pages of information about Marie.

On this third day my mind was brought back from its wanderings by the sound of a great noise about the house, above which I heard the voice of Marais storming and shouting, and that of my father trying to calm him.  Presently Marie entered the room, drawing-to behind her a Kaffir karoos, which served as a curtain, for the door, it will be remembered, had been torn out.  Seeing that I was awake and reasonable, she flew to my side with a little cry of joy, and, kneeling down, kissed me on the forehead.

“You have been very ill, Allan, but I know you will recover now.  While we are alone, which,” she added slowly and with meaning, “I dare say we shall not be much in future, I want to thank you from my heart for all that you did to save me.  Had it not been for you, oh! had it not been for you”—­and she glanced at the blood stains on the earthen floor, put her hands before her eyes and shuddered.

“Nonsense, Marie,” I answered, taking her hand feebly enough, for I was very weak.  “Anyone else would have done as much, even if they did not love you as I do.  Let us thank God that it was not in vain.  But what is all that noise?  Have the Quabies come back?”

She shook her head.

“No; the Boers have come back from hunting them.”

“And did they catch them and recover the cattle?”

“Not so.  They only found some wounded men, whom they shot, and the body of Monsieur Leblanc with his head cut off, taken away with other bits of him for medicine, they say to make the warriors brave.  Quabie has burnt his kraal and fled with all his people to join the other Kaffirs in the Big Mountains.  Not a cow or a sheep did they find, except a few that had fallen exhausted, and those had their throats cut.  My father wanted to follow them and attack the Red Kaffirs in the mountains, but the others would not go.  They said there are thousands of them, and that it would be a mad war, from which not one of them would return alive.  He is wild with grief and rage, for, Allan dear, we are almost ruined, especially as the British Government are freeing the slaves and only going to give us a very small price, not a third of their value.  But, hark! he is calling me, and you must not talk much or excite yourself, lest you should be ill again.  Now you have to sleep and eat and get strong.  Afterwards, dear, you may talk”; and, bending down once more, she blessed and kissed me, then rose and glided away.



Several more days passed before I was allowed out of that little war-stained room of which I grew to hate the very sight.  I entreated my father to take me into the air, but he would not, saying that he feared lest any movement should cause the bleeding to begin again or even the cut artery to burst.  Moreover, the wound was not healing very well, the spear that caused it having been dirty or perhaps used to skin dead animals, which caused some dread of gangrene, that in those days generally meant death.  As it chanced, although I was treated only with cold water, for antiseptics were then unknown, my young and healthy blood triumphed and no gangrene appeared.

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Marie from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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