At last we were aroused by a great hooting and tooting and banging of pans and tin plates from the direction of the camp. The significance of these sounds and also the odours of baked meats that were beginning to suffuse the veldt, could not be misunderstood. We returned to camp and dinner.
Mrs Burney had her best damask table-cloths spread in line on the level grass, and Mrs Rookwood had decorated the snowy expanse with trails of wild smilax and jasmine, and jam-jars full of scarlet lilies and maidenhair fern. We sat down to a banquet of unparalleled splendour, of which I cannot now remember all the details, but only that they were opulent and luxurious and kingly. Afterwards every one had a glass of some delightful champagne that had been unearthed from the cellars of Hunloke and Dennison, and Colonel Blow ceremoniously arose and asked us to drink the health of the Queen, and we drank, standing.
Then Captain Clinton jumped up again with his glass in the air and called for toasts to Mr Rhodes and Dr Jim, and those we drank uproariously. Afterwards we sat very quiet for a moment, and only the children’s voices were heard. Colonel Blow got up again and a hush fell upon us all. Some of the women began to bite their lips, to keep themselves from crying, and Mrs Shand, who had been one of the brightest and gayest of the party all day, suddenly leaned against Saba Rookwood’s shoulder and began to sob.
“I ask you to drink to those who cannot be with us here to-day—because they are attending to our business elsewhere—our fellows at the front!”
Across the table-cloth Annabel Cleeve and I stared at each other dry-eyed.
“Here’s to their speedy and safe return!” cried Captain Clinton, holding his glass aloft so that the wine shone and sparkled in the sunshine like liquid topaz. “Now you kids give three tremendous cheers for them, and maybe they’ll hear the echoes in Buluwayo.”
That saved the situation. The men’s strong “Hurrahs!” mingling with the children’s cheery voices, rang and echoed among the rocks and hills. Emotion was pushed out of sight once more, and faces became calm. It appeared too that Colonel Blow had not finished the giving of toasts. He got up once again, his face wreathed in smiles.
“And I want you all to drink the health,” he began, “of some one here who has been the sunshine of our darkest days, and the brightest star of many a weary night; who has minded the babies and made coffee for the patrol boys, and generally kept us all from dying of sheer boredom and hatred of life just by her lovely presence amongst us. I am sure you all know who I mean.”
I’m sure I didn’t. I stared round the table in astonishment, and to see what the others were thinking of this unlooked-for enthusiasm on the part of the usually sedate and sensible Commandant. Was he dreaming, or was he infatuated with one of the women, and simply drivelling about her? I had never noticed him paying any special attention to any one—he always seemed to be so busy. Anyway, I felt quite annoyed about it, and especially cross about the babies, whom I had looked upon as my own particular loves. He raised his glass on high.
“I drink to Miss Deirdre Saurin!”