Cape of Good Hope (South Africa) -- Fiction; English fiction; Xhosa (African people) -- Fiction
Mr Daveney had long asserted this to Sir John Manvers, who, jealous of
all interference from the Commissioner, and haughtily reserved alike in
communicating or receiving opinions, especially from him, made no
serious objections to the return homeward of some of his best burgher
captains. Troops and colonists rested on their arms, and the usual
amusements of camp life were entered into with all the avidity of
excitement-loving soldiers.
Poor Gray had now but three days to live. Mr Trail could not help
thinking, that if all the circumstances of the case were related to Sir
Adrian Fairfax, that kind General might mitigate the sentence. The
missionary had drawn the young deserter's history from him, and every
word he spoke increased the good man's interest, and made him long to
rescue the youth from an ignominious death.
Even the eyes of the president of the court-martial, Colonel Graham,
were observed to fill with tears when the question was asked of the
prisoner--
"How old are you?"
And Gray replied, "I am twenty-two to-day."
His air was so different to the reckless, daring manner of men hardened
in crime, and every one felt the force of the words he uttered in his
defence.
"I acknowledge my crimes," he said; "but I have been very unfortunate."
His open countenance when his eyes were raised, for shame and sorrow
usually weighed them down; his slight boyish frame, attenuated by
illness; his air of deep humility--humility without fear--for every
question was answered unhesitatingly and honestly; the gentle way in
which he met the accusations of the chief witness against him, a man who
hoped to purchase his own freedom by the blood of his fellow creature;
and the straightforward manner in which he related his history from the
time he and Lyle had been cast ashore from the _Trafalgar_, taking more
blame to himself in the matter of gunpowder traffic; than he deserved,
were all adjuncts in his favour with the honourable court; but, alas!
there was the damning evidence to prove the life he had lived for the
last six months, and nothing to confirm his assertion that he deprecated
his occupation or position.
Under present circumstances, Gray was not permitted to occupy his little
chamber in the kind missionary's cottage; but Ormsby--no longer the
thoughtless, selfish Ormsby--gave up his hut to the poor young prisoner,
who, patient and resigned, sat within, looking through the open door
upon the distant plains of Kafirland.
He was fettered, and safely guarded by sentries, who would fain have
avoided their sad duty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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