marie-第2章

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CHAPTER　I









ALLAN　LEARNS　FRENCH











Although　in　my　old　age　I；　Allan　Quatermain；　have　taken　to　writingafter

a　fashionnever　yet　have　I　set　down　a　single　word　of　the　tale　of　my

first　love　and　of　the　adventures　that　are　grouped　around　her　beautiful

and　tragic　history。　　I　suppose　this　is　because　it　has　always　seemed　to

me　too　holy　and　far…off　a　matteras　holy　and　far…off　as　is　that　heaven

which　holds　the　splendid　spirit　of　Marie　Marais。　　But　now；　in　my　age；

that　which　was　far…off　draws　near　again；　and　at　night；　in　the　depths

between　the　stars；　sometimes　I　seem　to　see　the　opening　doors　through

which　I　must　pass；　and　leaning　earthwards　across　their　threshold；　with

outstretched　arms　and　dark　and　dewy　eyes；　a　shadow　long　forgotten　by　all

save　methe　shadow　of　Marie　Marais。



An　old　man's　dream；　doubtless；　no　more。　　Still；　I　will　try　to　set　down

that　history　which　ended　in　so　great　a　sacrifice；　and　one　so　worthy　of

record；　though　I　hope　that　no　human　eye　will　read　it　until　I　also　am

forgotten；　or；　at　any　rate；　have　grown　dim　in　the　gathering　mists　of

oblivion。　　And　I　am　glad　that　I　have　waited　to　make　this　attempt；　for　it

seems　to　me　that　only　of　late　have　I　come　to　understand　and　appreciate

at　its　true　value　the　character　of　her　of　whom　I　tell；　and　the

passionate　affection　which　was　her　bounteous　offering　to　one　so　utterly

unworthy　as　myself。　　What　have　I　done；　I　wonder；　that　to　me　should　have

been　decreed　the　love　of　two　such　women　as　Marie　and　that　of　Stella；

also　now　long　dead；　to　whom　alone　in　the　world　I　told　all　her　tale？　　I

remember　I　feared　lest　she　should　take　it　ill；　but　this　was　not　so。　

Indeed；　during　our　brief　married　days；　she　thought　and　talked　much　of

Marie；　and　some　of　her　last　words　to　me　were　that　she　was　going　to　seek

her；　and　that　they　would　wait　for　me　together　in　the　land　of　love；　pure

and　immortal。



So　with　Stella's　death　all　that　side　of　life　came　to　an　end　for　me；

since　during　the　long　years　which　stretch　between　then　and　now　I　have

never　said　another　tender　word　to　woman。　　I　admit；　however；　that　once；

long　afterwards；　a　certain　little　witch　of　a　Zulu　did　say　tender　words

to　me；　and　for　an　hour　or　so　almost　turned　my　head；　an　art　in　which　she

had　great　skill。　　This　I　say　because　I　wish　to　be　quite　honest；　although

itI　mean　my　head；　for　there　was　no　heart　involved　in　the　mattercame

straight　again　at　once。　　Her　name　was　Mameena；　and　I　have　set　down　her

remarkable　story　elsewhere。



To　return。　　As　I　have　already　written　in　another　book；　I　passed　my　youth

with　my　old　father；　a　Church　of　England　clergyman；　in　what　is　now　the

Cradock　district　of　the　Cape　Colony。



Then　it　was　a　wild　place　enough；　with　a　very　small　white　population。　

Among　our　few　neighbours　was　a　Boer　farmer　of　the　name　of　Henri　Marais；

who　lived　about　fifteen　miles　from　our　station；　on　a　fine　farm　called

Maraisfontein。　　I　say　he　was　a　Boer；　but；　as　may　be　guessed　from　both

his　Christian　and　surname；　his　origin　was　Huguenot；　his　forefather；　who

was　also　named　Henri　Maraisthough　I　think　the　Marais　was　spelt　rather

differently　thenhaving　been　one　of　the　first　of　that　faith　who

emigrated　to　South　Africa　to　escape　the　cruelties　of　Louis　XIV。　at　the

time　of　the　revocation　of　the　Edict　of　Nantes。



Unlike　most　Boers　of　similar　descent；　these　particular　Maraisfor；　of

course；　there　are　many　other　families　so　callednever　forgot　their

origin。　　Indeed；　from　father　to　son；　they　kept　up　some　knowledge　of　the

French　tongue；　and　among　themselves　often　spoke　it　after　a　fashion。　　At

any　rate；　it　was　the　habit　of　Henri　Marais；　who　was　excessively

religious；　to　read　his　chapter　of　the　Bible　（which　it　is；　or　was；　the

custom　of　the　Boers　to　spell　out　every　morning；　should　their　learning

allow　them　to　do　so）；　not　in　the　〃taal〃　or　patois　Dutch；　but　in　good　old

French。　　I　have　the　very　book　from　which　he　used　to　read　now；　for；

curiously　enough；　in　after　years；　when　all　these　events　had　long　been

gathered　to　the　past；　I　chanced　to　buy　it　among　a　parcel　of　other　works

at　the　weekly　auction　of　odds　and　ends　on　the　market　square　of

Maritzburg。　　I　remember　that　when　I　opened　the　great　tome；　bound　over

the　original　leather　boards　in　buckskin；　and　discovered　to　whom　it　had

belonged；　I　burst　into　tears。　　There　was　no　doubt　about　it；　for；　as　was

customary　in　old　days；　this　Bible　had　sundry　fly…leaves　sewn　up　with　it

for　the　purpose　of　the　recording　of　events　important　to　its　owner。



The　first　entries　were　made　by　the　original　Henri　Marais；　and　record　how

he　and　his　compatriots　were　driven　from　France；　his　father　having　lost

his　life　in　the　religious　persecutions。　　After　this　comes　a　long　list　of

births；　marriages　and　deaths　continued　from　generation　to　generation；

and　amongst　them　a　few　notes　telling　of　such　matters　as　the　change　of

the　dwelling…places　of　the　family；　always　in　French。　　Towards　the　end　of

the　list　appears　the　entry　of　the　birth　of　the　Henri　Marais　whom　I　knew；

alas！　too　well；　and　of　his　only　sister。　　Then　is　written　his　marriage　to

Marie　Labuschagne；　also；　be　it　noted；　of　the　Huguenot　stock。　　In　the

next　year　follows　the　birth　of　Marie　Marais；　my　Marie；　and；　after　a　long

interval；　for　no　other　children　were　born；　the　death　of　her　mother。　

Immediately　below　appears　the　following　curious　passage：



〃Le　3　Janvier；　1836。　　Je　quitte　ce　pays　voulant　me　sauver　du　maudit

gouvernement　Britannique　comme　mes　ancetres　se　sont　sauves　de　ce

diableLouis　XIV。



〃A　bas　les　rois　et　les　ministres　tyrannique！　　Vive　la　liberte！〃



Which　indicates　very　clearly　the　character　and　the　opinions　of　Henri

Marais；　and　the　feeling　among　the　trek…Boers　at　that　time。



Thus　the　record　closes　and　the　story　of　the　Marais　endsthat　is；　so　far

as　the　writings　in　the　Bible　go；　for　that　branch　of　the　family　is　now

extinct。



Their　last　chapter　I　will　tell　in　due　course。





There　was　nothing　remarkable　about　my　introduction　to　Marie　Marais。　　I

did　not　rescue　her　from　any　attack　of　a　wild　beast　or　pull　her　out　of　a

raging　river　in　a　fashion　suited　to　romance。　　Indeed；　we　interchanged

our　young　ideas　across　a　small　and　extremely　massive　table；　which；　in

fact；　had　once　done　duty　as　a　block　for　the　chopping　up　of　meat。　　To

this　hour　I　can　see　the　hundreds　of　lines　running　criss…cross　upon　its

surface；　especially　those　opposite　to　where　I　used　to　sit。



One　day；　several　years　after　my　father　had　emigrated　to　the　Cape；　the

Heer　Marais　arrived　at　our　house　in　search；　I　think；　of　some　lost　oxen。　

He　was　a　thin；　bearded　man　with　rather　wild；　dark　eyes　set　close

together；　and　a　quick　nervous　manner；　not　in　the　least　like　that　of　a

Dutch　Boeror　so　I　recall　him。　　My　father　received　him　courteously　and

asked　him　to　stop　to　dine；　which　he　did。



They　talked　together　in　French；　a　tongue　that　my　father　knew　well；

although　he　had　not　used　it　for　years；　Dutch　he　could　not；　or；　rather；

would　not；　speak　if　he　could　help　it；　and　Mr。　Marais　preferred　not　to

talk　English。　　To　meet　someone　who　could　converse　in　French　delighted

him；　and　although　his　version　of　the　language　was　that　of　two　centuries

before　and　my　father's　was　largely　derived　from　reading；　they　got　on

very　well　together；　if　not　too　fast。



At　length；　after　a　pause；　Mr。　Marais；　pointing　to　myself；　a　small　and

stubbly…haired　youth　with　a　sharp　nose；　asked　my　father　whether　he　would

like　me　to　be　instructed　in　the　French　tongue。　　The　answer　was　that

nothing　would　please　him　better。



〃Although；〃　he　added　severely；　〃to　judge　by　my　own　experience　where

Latin　and　Greek　are　concerned；　I　doubt　his　capacity　to　learn　anything。〃



So　an　arrangement　was　made　that　I　should　go　over　for　two　days　in　each

week　to　Maraisfontein；　sleeping　there　on　the　intervening　night；　and

acquire　a　knowledge　of　the　French　tongue　from　a　tutor　whom　Mr。　Marais

had　hired　to　instruct　his　daughter　in　that　language　and　other　subjects。　

I　remember　that　my　father　agreed　to　pay　a　certain　proportion　of　this

tutor's　salary；　a　plan　which　suited　the　thrifty　Boer　very　well　indeed。



Thither；　accordingly；　I　went　in　due　course；　nothing　loth；　for　on　the

veld　between　our　station　and　Maraisfontein　many　pauw　and　koranthat　is；

big　and　small　bustardswere　to　be　found；　to　say　nothing　of　occasional

buck；　and　I　was　allowed　to　carry　a　gun；　which　even　in　those　days　I　could

use　fairly　well。　　So　to　Maraisfontein　I　rode　on　the　appointed　day；

attended　by　a　Hottentot　after…rider；　a　certain　Hans；　of　whom　I　shall

have　a　good　deal　to　tell。　　I　enjoyed　very　goof　sport　on　the　road；

arriving　at　the　stead　laden　with　one　pauw；　two　koran；　and　a　little

klipspringer　buck　which　I　had　been　lucky　enough　to　shoot　as　it　bounded

out　of　some　rocks　in　front　of　me。



There　was　a　peach　orchard　planted　round　Maraisfontein；　which　just　then

was　a　mass　of　lovely　pink　blossom；　and　as　I　rode　through　it　slowly；　not

being　sure　of　my　way　to　the　house；　a　lanky　child　appeared　in　front　of

me；　clad　in　a　frock　which　exactly　matched　the　colour　of　the　peach　bloom。

　I　can　see　her　now；　her　dark　hair　hanging　down　her　back；　and　her　big；

shy　eyes　staring　at　me　from　the　shadow　of　the　Dutch　〃kappie〃　which　she

wore。　　Indeed；　she　seemed　to　be　all　eyes；　like　a　〃dikkop〃　or

thick…headed　plover；　at　any　rate；　I　noted　little　else　about　her。



I　pulled　up　my　pony　and　stared　at　her；　feeling　very　shy　and　not　knowing

what　to　say。　　For　a　while　she　stared　back　at　me；　being　afflicted；

presumably；　with　the　same　complaint；　then　spoke　with　an　effort；　in　a

voice　that　was　very　soft　and　pleasant。



〃Are　you　the　little　Allan　Quatermain　who　is　coming　to　learn　French　with

me？〃　she　asked　in　Dutch。



〃Of　course；〃　I　answered　in　the　same　tongue；　which　I　knew　well；　〃but　why

do　you　call　me　little；　missie？　I　am　taller　than　you；〃　I　added

indignantly；　for　when　I　was　young　my　lack　of　height　was　always　a　sore

point　with　me。



〃I　think　not；〃　she　replied。　　〃But　get　off　that　horse；　and　we　will

measure　here　against　this　wall。〃



So　I　dismounted；　and；　having　assured　herself　that　I　had　no　heels　to　my

boots　（I　was　wearing　the　kind　of　raw…hide　slippers　that　the　Boers　call

〃veld…shoon〃）；　she　took　the　writing　slate　which　she　was　carryingit　had

no　frame；　I　remember；　being；　in　fact；　but　a　piece　of　the　material　used

for　roofingand；　pressing　it　down　tight　on　my　stubbly　hair；　which　stuck

up　then　as　now；　made　a　deep　mark　in　the　soft　sandstone　of　the　wall　with

the　hard　pointed　pencil。



〃There；〃　she　said；　〃that　is　justly　done。　　Now；　little　Allan；　it　is　your

turn　to　measure　me。〃



So　I　measured　her；　and；　behold！　she　was　the　taller　by　a　whole　half…inch。



〃You　are　standing　on　tiptoe；〃　I　said　in　my　vexation。



〃Little　Allan；〃　she　replied；　〃to　stand　on　tiptoe　would　be　to　lie　before

the　good　Lord；　and　when　you　come　to　know　me　better　you　will　learn　that；

though　I　have　a　dreadful　temper　and　many　other　sins；　I　do　not　lie。〃



I　suppose　that　I　looked　snubbed　and　mort