‘I won’t allow that; but Mr Courtney, at least, is aware of the danger. The planters have held a meeting on the subject, with a view to inquiring into the coolies’ fancied wrongs, but not, I understand, with any satisfactory results. In fact, they can’t make out what it is they do want, and I don’t think the darkies know themselves. Only the demons of distrust and discontent are stalking abroad, and it behoves every white man to be extra careful.’
‘Suppose they were to hurt Maraquita,’ suggested Lizzie, with a shudder. ‘She is not a favourite amongst them, poor child, I know.’
‘And will be none the more for having married the Governor; for the coloured population have taken a strong dislike to Sir Russell Johnstone, as the discovered plots against Government House plainly show. However, she will have every protection that the military forces can give her, and you have none. It is of you that I am thinking, Lizzie. I wish I could persuade you to leave this bungalow, and go and stay in the Fort till the danger is over.’
‘Oh, dear no! That is quite impossible. What, run away from my patients, and leave them to die, for fear lest some of the men amongst whom I have grown up might turn against me? Captain Norris, you cannot think what you are asking me. Indeed, I have no fear—not the slightest. These coolies love me—I know they do—and would die for me sooner than harm a hair of my head.’
‘Perhaps so, Lizzie; though I have not much faith in any coloured people. But you have the coolies of other plantations to guard against. They do not confine their attacks to their employers’ property. If the hands on Miners’ Gulch or Sans Souci, or any other estate, were to rise, they might make a raid on Beauregard. Now, do you understand the danger you may be in?’
‘Yes,’ replied Lizzie thoughtfully; ‘I had not considered that. I will ask Mr Courtney if old Peter or William Hall may sleep at the bungalow for the future, though I do not think they will be much protection. But I am not afraid,—indeed I am not.’
‘You are the most courageous woman I have ever met,’ replied Captain Norris. ‘I don’t believe you are afraid of anything.’
‘Except of injuring those who have been good to me,’ she said, somewhat timidly. ‘Captain Norris, there is something on my mind that I feel bound to mention to you. My name is not Fellows, and I don’t know what my real name is.’
‘Are you not the Doctor’s daughter, then?’ he demanded, in surprise.
‘Oh, yes, and though it may astonish you hereafter to remember I said so, I would not give up the knowledge that I am his daughter for all the world. Poor father! He was so unhappy, so unfortunate, so erring. His soul was purified like that of an angel by the suffering he passed through.’