Brand walked down the street with a heart like lead in his breast, and a sense as of one who, having died and reached Paradise, and again come to life, knows that henceforth he must be a stranger among the sons of men.
Four
Brand arrived at his lodgings just before midnight, and went up-stairs quietly to his room. The front door of the house had been left open for some of the lodgers who were still out. To his relief he met no one on the stairs or in the passages; otherwise he would have had some difficulty in accounting for his being in Malay garb.
Upon awaking in the morning he had some difficulty in persuading himself that he had been away for ten days,—or indeed at all. The last week seemed now a fevered dream of terror and delight. Was it real? His hand accidentally touched Aiäla’s pearl which hung from his neck, and his doubts vanished. He sprang out of bed, dressed as quickly as he could, and hurried down to the sea to have the swim he so longed for. The cold southern current was sweeping into Table Bay. Brand plunged into the surf, and swam out beyond the line of breakers. He felt the clean, stinging water dissipating the fantasies which were woven around him, and Aiäla’s image rose clear over the mists that had clouded his understanding, like the sun over a huddled mass of dissolving, wind-driven clouds.
After his swim Brand walked slowly back to his lodgings, thinking over the strange problem set before him for solution, and wondering as to what the outcome of the matter would be. As to Aiäla, his intentions were clear and distinct up to a certain point. He meant to take her away at once from the house of pestilence, and eventually to marry her, but he knew enough of law to be quite sure that, she being under age, he could not marry her without the consent of her guardians, and he knew enough of Mahometan prejudice to be certain that such consent he would never obtain.
What in the mean time was he to do? He could not bring Aiäla to the lodging-house—that was quite certain. His means, moreover, were very limited. He had been waiting in Cape Town in the hope of obtaining employment from a certain mining-syndicate there being formed, but as yet no definite offer had been made him. However, Aiäla must, under any circumstances, be at his side from and after the second midnight following—that was the only certain and important thing; all the rest was mere detail.
Brand’s landlady was much astonished when he put in an appearance at breakfast, but he silenced all inquiries on the subject of his absence by stating that he had been called suddenly away, and that he supposed his letter explaining his absence had miscarried.
After breakfast he went to his room, and, feeling unwell, threw himself on the bed, and fell asleep. It was late in the afternoon when he awoke with a violent headache, a feverish skin, and a burning thirst. In the evening delirium set in and a doctor was sent for. He pronounced the malady to be small-pox, so next morning Brand was removed to the lazaretto.
In spite of the fact that Brand had recently been vaccinated the attack was a severe one. When he regained his senses at the cessation of the fever he wanted, weak as he was, to rush out and go to Aiäla, but this, of course, the attendants prevented him from doing. Afterwards he resigned himself quietly to his fate, and remained at the lazaretto until discharged as cured.
He took a cab and returned to his lodgings, where he found, to his relief, that the disease had not been communicated to any of the other inmates. As the day wore on he watched the slowly-sinking sun with chafing impatience, longing for the hour when he could go to Aiäla, clasp her to his heart, and explain his absence.