Benita, an African romanceHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
Benita, an African romance
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Africa, East -- Fiction
They touched her own, and then, why or wherefore Benita never
understood, the spell broke. All his power was gone, she was as she had
been, a free woman, mistress of herself. Contemptuously she thrust the
man aside, and, not even troubling to run, lifted her pail of water and
walked away.
Soon she saw the light again, and joyfully extinguished her lamp.
Indeed, the breast of Benita, which should have been so troubled after
the scene through which she had passed, strangely enough was filled with
happiness and peace. As that glorious sunlight had broken on her eyes,
so had another light of freedom arisen in her soul. She was no longer
afraid of Jacob Meyer; that coward kiss of his had struck off the
shackles which bound her to him. Her mind had been subject to his mind,
but now that his physical nature was brought into the play, his mental
part had lost its hold upon her.
As she approached the hut she saw her father seated on a stone outside
it, since the poor old man was now so weak and full of pain that he
could not stand for very long, and seeing, remembered Meyer’s threats
against him. At the thought all her new-found happiness departed.
She might be safe; she felt sure that she was safe, but how about her
father? If Meyer could not get his way probably he would be as good as
his word, and kill him. She shivered at the thought, then, recovering
herself, walked forward steadily with her bucket of water.
“You have been a long while gone, my love,” said Mr. Clifford.
“Yes, father, Mr. Meyer was in the cave, and kept me.”
“How did he get there, and what did he want?”
“I don’t know how he got there--crept in when we were not looking, I
suppose. But as for what he wanted--listen, dear,” and word for word she
told him what had passed.
Before she had finished, her father was almost choking with wrath.
“The dirty Jew! The villain!” he gasped. “I never dreamed that he would
dare to attempt such an outrage. Well, thank Heaven! I can still hold a
rifle, and when he comes out----”
“Father,” she said gently, “that man is mad. He is not responsible for
his actions, and therefore, except in self-defence, you must not think
of such a thing. As for what he said about you, I believe it was only
an empty threat, and for me you need have no fear, his power over me is
gone; it went like a flash when his lips touched me,” and she rubbed her
own as though to wipe away some stain. “I am afraid of nothing more. I
believe--yes, I believe the old Molimo was right, and that all will end
well----”
As she was speaking Benita heard a shuffling sound behind her, and
turned to learn its cause. Then she saw a strange sight. Jacob Meyer was
staggering towards them, dragging one foot after the other through the
grass and stones. His face was ghastly pale, his jaw had dropped like
that of a dead man, and his eyes were set wide open and full of horror.
“What is the matter with you, man?” asked Mr. Clifford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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