An hour\u00a0passed, and then he saw the mistress of the plantation returning. The sun was cruel now in the open, unsheltered landscape, although this was the cooler time of the year; but Mrs. Palmer did not seem to mind it. She rode easily with Ashman at her side. She was coming in Robert\u2019s direction, but he kept his eyes fixed on the slaves who, aware of who was approaching, redoubled their efforts and began heaping cane into the wagons standing by the path. Not so had they toiled all that afternoon. The man on horseback, big and strong though he was, had for them nothing of the terror which the slim woman who was nearing them so evidently exercised.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs this the new book-keeper?\u201d<\/p>\n
The question was asked in a clear, musical, carrying voice, a voice which, though not lifted, could yet be heard some distance away, a voice of rich quality and of decisive, vibrant, exquisite tones. Robert lifted his head and stared in its direction.<\/p>\n
It was as though an electric shock had passed through him. He found himself gazing into a pair of eyes which he thought the most wonderful he had ever seen. They were black and of a peculiar, penetrating brightness; they looked through you: gazing intently into them you became conscious of nothing else; they absorbed you. The brow above them, though partly hidden by the riding beaver, was broad and smooth, and smooth, glossy black hair covered the ears. The nose was slightly aquiline, suggesting strength of character, a disposition and a will and an ability to command; the mouth was small and full, the upper lip too full, the lower one a little blunt and hard. A fascinating mouth nevertheless, made for the luring of men; and under it was a rounded chin, well marked, definite, strong.<\/p>\n
Her complexion was brilliant, her colouring indeed was part of the attractions of Annie Palmer and had not been affected by her rides in the sun of the West Indian tropics, probably because her horseback excursions were seldom taken in the bright sunlight. She sat upright on her horse; sitting thus, she appeared to be a mere girl, though her age was in reality thirty-one.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, he came in yesterday,\u201d Robert heard the overseer say in answer to her question.<\/p>\n
He was conscious that Annie Palmer was scrutinising him closely, studying him feature by feature, as it were, sizing him up, calculating about him. She did so quite openly, in no way hesitating or abashed. She must have seen the impression her beauty made upon him, for she smiled a little smile of satisfaction and triumph, forgetting the book-keeper and thinking only of the man. Ashman noticed this by-play, and a dark expression gathered on his brow. Ashman today was cleanly shaved, and anyone could see, in spite of his coarse mouth and insolent eyes, that he too was a handsome man. He was well-built, muscular, a masterful man and a quickly angry one. Anger showed now in his glance, in fists clenched upon reins and whip. But Robert did not notice it. Mrs. Palmer did.<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Ashman,\u201d she remarked casually, \u201cI will ride back to the house alone; you need not wait for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you will go over to Palmyra this afternoon, won\u2019t you? There are some matters I should like you to see for yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am not sure I shall go today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you said you would, Mrs. Palmer. We arranged it on Saturday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd now I say I won\u2019t\u201d\u2014a note of imperiousness crept into her voice\u2014\u201dand that settles it. You can go over to Palmyra yourself after you have finished what you have to do here today. I will go another day. I\u2019ll not keep you now any longer.\u201d She moved her horse slightly, so as to put the overseer behind her.<\/p>\n
He said nothing more, but stared one long moment at Robert. Not liking the man, and noticing the look, Robert returned the stare, and fancied that there was not only hate in it but also fear, distinctly fear. Yet why should an overseer be afraid of a mere book-keeper? That would be to reverse completely the established order of things.<\/p>\n
Mr. Ashman touched his hat and rode off. Mrs. Palmer\u2019s face broke into a brilliant smile as, to the surprise of Robert, she put out her hand to shake his. \u201cWelcome to Rosehall,\u201d she said gaily, \u201cthough I wish you had come at some other time when I was not obliged to superintend the punishment of rebellious slaves.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks,\u201d he replied; but bewildered though he was, and fascinated, he could not help adding: \u201chow rebellious?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is a long story, and I could not tell it to you here. You don\u2019t know the difficulties we are having now with our people. Unless we inspire them with a proper dread they may rise at any moment and cut our throats. You look incredulous! Wait until you have been here a month. I suppose you think me cruel?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is not for me, your employee, to think you cruel or to think anything disrespectful about you,\u201d said Robert humbly. \u201cThat would be impertinence.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot in you!\u201d<\/p>\n
Again he was surprised. They had just met, and, as mistress and book-keeper, their positions were such poles apart that it was very condescending for her even to take ordinary notice of him. The usual course would have been for her to fling him orders, if she had any to give, through the medium of the overseer. Yet here was she talking to him on friendly, on familiar terms, as an equal, as though they had the same social footing. And she was smiling that dazzling smile of hers\u2014what beautiful teeth she had!\u2014and looking at him with a soft alluring look. He had expected in his youthful ardour to find strange adventures in Jamaica; but of a surety he had expected nothing whatever like this.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is your first name?\u201d she asked, seeing that he made no comment on her last remark.<\/p>\n
\u201cRobert. My full name is Robert Waddington Rutherford.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA rather aristocratic appellation: I shall call you Robert. My name is Annie.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, Mrs. Palmer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy name is Annie,\u201d she repeated, with playful insistence. \u201cIt isn\u2019t a pretty name, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Robert Rutherford was not only young but a gallant gentleman. He forgot all about his book-keepership; it was the gallant and the fascinated youth who answered: \u201cNot by any means as pretty as its bearer.\u201d He added, as she laughed delightedly: \u201cBut what name could be?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood, good!\u201d she cried. \u201cI can see we are going to be excellent friends. But you are a flatterer, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRather one who perhaps speaks the truth too boldly, but only the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBetter and better! But you puzzled me, Robert. How is it that you came out here to be a nigger slave-driver? You don\u2019t look the part.\u201d She eyed him swiftly up and down, noted that his appearance was rather that of a proprietor than of an underling.<\/p>\n
\u201cI came out here to learn the planting business,\u201d he replied immediately. He forgot entirely that his purpose was not to be advertised abroad, lest it should interfere with his gaining of elementary knowledge and experience. \u201cBut the sun; surely you feel it, Mrs.\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnnie,\u201d she interrupted. \u201cYes, I feel it, but I can stand it. Better than you, who are not used to it.\u201d Her voice fell a tone or two: \u201cI thought, when I saw you a little while ago, that a man of your appearance was hardly cut out to be a book-keeper; you are very handsome, Robert.\u201d<\/p>\n
Abashed at this open compliment, Robert glanced round to see if it could possibly have been overheard; some of the slaves were quite near. She noticed his movement.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey don\u2019t matter,\u201d she said indifferently; \u201cwe are practically alone here. They don\u2019t count; they have no feelings.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was supreme if unconscious contempt in her voice, in her look. The people about might have been sticks and stones so far as they affected her.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is very dull here,\u201d she went on. \u201cI am glad you came. How does Ashman treat you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe hasn\u2019t had time to treat me well or ill as yet: I have hardly had anything to do with him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe will treat you properly; he must. You needn\u2019t be afraid of him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHim?\u201d queried Robert. \u201cI never had the slightest intention of fearing him. Why should I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOthers have feared him,\u201d said Annie Palmer with a slight smile; \u201che is a passionate man with a strong will.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut what has that got to do with me, Mrs. Palmer?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing\u2014maybe. And yet it may have. But don\u2019t worry about him; you won\u2019t really be under him. I reside on this estate and at Palmyra\u2014that is the estate behind this one\u2014over the hills\u201d: she pointed southwards. \u201cI understand all about this planting business. You say you want to learn it? Well, you had better learn it directly under me, and then you will have very little to do with Ashman. What do you say to me for your \u201cbusha\u201d?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt would be impossible for me to have a more charming one,\u201d he cried, falling in with her mood, intoxicated with her beauty and her evident liking for him, flinging to the winds every shred of prudence that might have suggested a circumspect attitude in such strange and original circumstances. The West Indian\u00a0ethos\u00a0was already affecting him. He felt at once inclined to live gaily, riotously, dangerously today and let the morrow take care of itself.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr a more competent one,\u201d she added, with peculiar intonation and laugh. \u201cLord! how bored have I been for a long time. Not a soul worthwhile to talk to for weeks and months. A drear, drab existence\u2014dull as hell! Don\u2019t be shocked; I spoke literally, not blasphemously. Hell must be a place of utter boredom, which is the worst torture a soul can have. Torment from flogging or burning could not be so dreadful. To be bored day after day, no change, no respite, only the perpetual repetition of the same thing until even madness would be welcome: that is the worst misery that a man or a woman could have. And I have had something of that misery for some time here. Only last night I felt that it would be a positive relief to me to see the Rosehall Great House in flames. I actually felt that!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA dangerous feeling, Mrs.\u2014\u2014Annie. Don\u2019t you know that Nero burnt Rome down because he wished to see what a great conflagration was like? Perhaps Nero was bored, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery likely. But of course I wouldn\u2019t burn my house; I haven\u2019t many palaces as Nero had. And then I think my boredom is over now. I came out here this morning to see some malcontent slaves punished and I found\u2014you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I can amuse you, I am sure I shall be glad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour friendship can make life very different for me,\u201d she answered softly. \u201cYou will come up to the Great House to dinner tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI promised Burbridge that we should dine together tonight,\u201d he hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe won\u2019t hold you to that promise, I am sure,\u201d she said dryly. \u201cI suppose he has been talking to you a lot about me? Old hands always talk about the proprietors to new-comers, you know,\u201d she went on, as if in explanation of her question.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo; he has said nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was piercing him with her eyes as he answered; she seemed convinced that he was speaking the truth.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt half-past seven this evening, then,\u201d she said; \u201ctill then, good-bye.\u201d<\/p>\n
With eyes aglow with admiration, which had grown and deepened as they had conversed, and which she had seen with intensifying gratification, he watched her go. He saw her halt at the boiling-house and send a message to someone in it. Presently Burbridge came out, hat in hand, and she talked to him for a while. Then she turned, gaily waved her whip in Robert\u2019s direction, and cantered off towards the Great House. Burbridge waited until she reached it, then slowly came over to Robert. His manner was diffident, troubled. He spoke with constraint.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Palmer says she has asked you up to dinner; you can knock off at five o\u2019clock if you wish, Mr. Rutherford.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Rutherford! Burbridge, what the devil is the matter with you?\u201d asked the young man.<\/p>\n
\u201cI meant nothing, Rutherford; I wish you luck.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on\u2014you have something else to say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo-o. I don\u2019t think so. I\u2019ll see you this afternoon at our diggings.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow what\u2019s the matter with Burbridge?\u201d thought Robert, who had not observed the searching glance with which the other man had scanned his face. Burbridge had seen in the exaltation in Robert\u2019s countenance, had heard in the new vibration of his voice, all that he wished to know. \u201cHe\u2019s fallen in love with her at sight,\u201d thought Burbridge. \u201cWell, he is not singular; but I like him. Let\u2019s hope for the best.\u201d<\/p>\n
And Robert: everything had changed for him in that last half-hour. She liked him; every word she had said, every look she had given him, was eloquent of that. Why, they had almost been making love to one another in the sight of all men, in the midst of open fields, and she had spoken of Ashman as one who might be dangerous. Did Ashman love her? That was very likely; very likely too that Burbridge did. Any man would; she was so extraordinarily lovely, so fascinating. Not an hour ago he had been regretting that he had come to Rosehall, now there was no place that he would exchange for it. What eyes she had, what wonderful eyes! And what lips. And she was lonely here and bored; and he was lonely too, and would be bored but for her. He was only a book-keeper? Tut, that was nonsense; he was a West Indian proprietor like herself, or would be some day; meanwhile his worldly fortunes were quite respectable. He could meet her as an equal; she had understood that from the first. She had known him for what he was. Burbridge wished him luck; well, he\u00a0wasvery lucky. He could not have imagined, much less expected, this amazing good fortune, this swift transformation of his entire outlook.<\/p>\n
He noticed just then that some women in the cane-piece had almost entirely ceased work and were staring at him with what he regarded as a curious, impertinent air. He turned to them sternly and ordered them to resume their task. One laughed a little but they all became busy; yet he could see that they threw glances at him as they toiled, and talked amongst themselves, about him obviously. He was still young enough to blush at this, for he felt that it might be about the mistress and himself that all the slaves on the estate would soon be talking. Some of them had heard what had been said. Did they fully understand? Annie said that they had no feelings, spoke of them as if they did not matter. And indeed they did not matter; what they might think could have not the slightest sort of significance. Tonight he would be with her, see her face again, hear her wonderful voice. He had never seen eyes like hers before, eyes that seemed to draw and persuade and subdue you, eyes that commanded, eyes that looked into your very soul.<\/p>\n