The war-cry had rung from the mountains in Kafirland. Vividly do I remember the night on which this intelligence reached Cape Town. The whole of the authorities, with many members of their families, had assembled, amid a crowd of pleasure-loving people, on board a fine English frigate, to celebrate a national festival. Gay groups were scattered about the decks, awaiting the arrival of Sir Adrian and his party. I was happy that evening, and stepped on the deck, leaning on Clarence's arm. How kind, how tender had been his manner, as he almost lifted me from the barge to the gangway of the noble ship! As people are said, in the last hours of existence, to review minutely every incident of their lives, so could I once retrace the most trifling details of this brilliant and enchanting fete. As I recall it now, I remember everything--the wreaths, the flags of all the great nations of the world; the glittering arms interspersed among the laurels, and the effect of the soft light from the battle-lanterns disposed along the poop; innumerable lamps shedding their radiance through the draperies of scarlet and amber, purple, green, and white, and blue; the crowds of laughing dancers; the imposing array of military and naval uniforms and decorations. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ah, fatal gift of beauty! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ How long it was before I could cease to think of Clarence on that night, his plumed hat in his hand! How often did his gay laugh haunt me, like a mockery, in the silence of the night! His countenance beamed like an angel's, as it leant down to mine, and his whispered accents touched my very soul amid the din of the giddy throng. Arms clattered on the deck, as the Governor, Sir Adrian, acknowledged the salute from the guard of honour; the stirring air of "God save the King" pealed from the band on the poop; the crowd parted right and left, and the Admiral came forward to receive us. Having paid his compliments, Admiral B gave the order, in a good-humoured voice, to "clear the decks for action"--dance-music floated from unseen musicians; the officers selected their partners, and Clarence Fairfax led me to the head of the quadrille. Mrs Rashleigh placed herself opposite to us, with Captain Walton; she was fanning herself, and was evidently much excited and agitated. I felt she was my evil genius for the night at least. There was a fiendish light in her eye, but Clarence either did not or _would_ not observe it, and he was in such spirits, that their influence for a time was irresistible. We were laughing merrily together as Mrs Rashleigh sailed past us in the quadrille. "Have you heard the news?" said she, addressing Clarence--she seldom deigned to recognise me except by an insolent bow.