“Good again. And you, Ralph?”
“I say, mother, that I will not budge from this place unless I am ordered to go, and if I do go, I will come back for Suzanne. I love you all, and with you I wish to live and nowhere else.”
“Nay, Ralph,” I answered sighing, “if once you go you will never come back, for out yonder you will find a new home, new interests, and, perchance, new loves. Well, though nobody has thought of me in this matter, I have a voice in it, and I will speak for myself. That lad yonder has been a son to me for many years, and I who have none love him as such. He is a man as we reckon in this country, and he does not wish to leave us any more than we wish him to go. Moreover, he loves Suzanne, and Suzanne loves him, and I believe that the God who brought them together at first means them to be husband and wife, and that such love as they bear to each other will give them more together than any wealth or rank can bring to them apart. Therefore I say, husband, let our son, Ralph, stay here with us and marry our daughter, Suzanne, decently and in due season, and let their children be our children, and their love our love.”
“And how about the Scotchmen who are coming with power to take him away?”
“Do you and Ralph go to the bush-veldt with the cattle to-morrow,” I answered, “and leave me to deal with the Scotchmen.”
“Well,” said Jan, “I consent, for who can stand up against so many words, and the Lord knows that to lose Ralph would have broken my heart as it would have broken that girl’s, perhaps more so, since girls change their fancies, but I am too old to change. Come here, my children.”
They came, and he laid one of his big hands upon the head of each of them, saying:—
“May the God in Heaven bless you both, who to me are one as dear as the other, making you happy with each other for many long years, and may He turn aside from you and from us the punishment that is due to all of us because, on account of our great love, we are holding you back, Ralph, from the home, the kin and the fortune to which you were born.” Then he kissed each of them on the forehead and let them go.
“If there be any punishment for that which is no sin, on my head be it,” said Ralph, “since never would I have gone from here by my own will.”
“Aye, aye,” answered Jan, “but who can take account of the talk of a lad in love? Well, we have committed the sin and we must bear the sorrow. Now I go out to see to the kraaling of the cattle, which we will drive off to the bush-veldt to-morrow at dawn, for I will have naught to do with these Scotchmen; your mother must settle with them as she wills, only I beg of her that she will tell me nothing of the bargain. Nay, do not come with me, Ralph; stop you with your dear, for to-morrow you will be parted for a while.”