Swallow: A Tale of the Great TrekHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Swallow: A Tale of the Great Trek
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Historical fiction; South Africa -- History -- Great Trek, 1836-1840 -- Fiction; Transvaal (South Africa) -- Fiction
“Change his mind!” said the old lady, with a glare of indignation. “I
should like to see him dare to change his mind, this Englishman whom
you seem to have honoured thus, _opsitting_ with him without my leave.
A lord indeed? What do I care for lords? The question is whether I
should not order the English creature off the place; yes, and I would
do it were not his face the face of Ralph’s cousin, and his name the
name Glenthirsk.”
When I had interpreted as much of this speech as I thought necessary,
there was a little silence, after which Ralph began to speak very
solemnly.
“Listen, Suzanne,” he said, “and repeat my words to your
great-grandmother. She says that my name is Lord Glenthirsk, but within
the last few days I have come to believe that it is nothing of the
sort, but only plain Ralph Mackenzie.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, astonished.
“I mean, Suzanne, that if your legitimate descent from that Ralph
Mackenzie who was cast away about sixty years ago on the coast of the
Transkei can be proved—as I believe it can, for I have made inquiries,
and find that his marriage to your grandmother to which her mother who
still lives can bear witness, was duly registered—then _you_ are the
Baroness Glenthirsk of Glenthirsk, and I, the descendant of a younger
son, am only Lieutenant Ralph Mackenzie of Her Majesty’s—Highlanders.”
“Oh! Ralph, how can this be?” I gasped. “I thought that in England men
took rank, not the women.”
“So they do generally,” he answered; “but as it happens in our family
the title descends in the female line, and with it the entailed
estates, so that you would succeed to your father’s rights although he
never enjoyed them. Suzanne, I am not speaking lightly; all this while
that I have kept away from you I have been inquiring in Scotland and
the Cape, for I sent home photographs of those miniatures and a
statement of the facts, and upon my word I believe it to be true that
you and no other are the heiress of our house.”
Almost mechanically, for I was lost in amazement, I translated his
words. My great-grandmother thought a while and said:
“Wonderful are the ways of the Lord who thus in my old age answers my
prayers and rolls from my back the load of my sin. Suzanne, ask that
Scotchman if he still means to marry you,” and seeing me hesitate, as
well I might, she struck her stick upon the floor and added, “Obey,
girl, and ask.”
So with great shame I asked, explaining that I was forced to it.
“Do I still mean to marry you, Suzanne?” he said, astonished. “Why
surely you must understand that the question is, do you still intend to
marry me? When I begged you to take me some months ago I had much to
offer; to-day if things be as I am sure they are, I am but a penniless
Scottish gentleman, while you are one of the richest and most noble
ladies in Great Britain.”
By way of answer I looked at him in a fashion which I trust he
understood, but before I could speak, Vrouw Botmar broke in, for, as
usual, I had translated.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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