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But she had only gone a few steps, when out of the gidia scrub, came Oola the half-caste, her comely face bruised, her eyes wild with grief and terror, her head tied up in a blood-stained strip torn from Lady Bridget's lacy undergarment, the gaily-flowered kimono hanging in dirty shreds upon her brown bosom. 'White Mary! Lathy-chap! she cried. 'Plenty poor feller Oola. Plenty quick me run.
I can do my own dirty jobs, said McKeith shortly. He had released the pair and now stood grimly surveying them. Oola was crying and squealing; Wombo stood upright a scowl of hate on his face. His whole nature seemed changed. A flogging will rouse the semi-civilised black's evil passions like nothing else.
Only for heaven's sake, stop crying, said Lady Bridget. 'Come along. You must have that spear pulled out and your arm seen to. Come with me to the Humpey. Quick MURRA* make haste. But Wombo drew back, casting an affrighted glance down the gully towards the crossing. 'Ba'al me go long-a Humpey I believe Boss PHO-PHO*, Oola, he said. 'Wombo, you are foolish. What for Boss shoot Oola?
Curtis then repeated in tones that could not be heard by the audience the Atlantean cabalistic words "Karma nardka rapto nooman K arma oola piskooskte," and glided gracefully on to the surface of the water. Every now and then he sank slowly down to the bottom, where he strolled about, or sat, or lay down. The audience was simply fascinated.
He did not care in the least how Wombo had escaped. It seemed clear to him that Oola had stolen the key after Harris had gone back to his room, while Maule and his wife were together together in Lady Bridget's own chamber. The blood surged to his brain, and his temples throbbed as though they would burst.
If he had curbed his anger, shown sympathy with the two wild children of Nature who were better than himself, in this at least that they had known how to love and cling to each other in spite of the blows of fate! He had horse-whipped Wombo for loving Oola, and swift retribution had come upon himself.... That he should have lost Bridget because of the loves of Wombo and Oola!
She was quivering with indignant pity at sight of the sores on the black boy's legs made by the raw hide thongs, and Oola, who had crept up the off side of the black-boy's horse, was wailing anew. Maule checked with a look the angry protest on Lady Bridget's lip and answered the Police Sergeant in her stead. 'Why, certainly. I'm sure her Ladyship won't object.
Well, the little human drama of the Blacks' camp had taken her out of herself for an hour or two. It had been so funny to see Oola stroking the lace frills of Lady Bridget's old petticoat and looking up at Wombo with frank coquetry as she mimicked the 'White Mary's' gestures and gait. Lady Bridget meant to stand by the savage lovers. She would not allow Colin to treat them badly when he came back.
But there remained still something of the PREUX CHEVALIER about Wombo. 'Mine bring it gin belonging to me, he announced with dignity, making an introductory gesture towards what appeared almost an excresence upon the black trunk of a gidia tree except for an old red blanket slung round one shoulder, which only half covered a woman's dusky form. 'That Oola. Mine want 'im marry Oola.
From the hide-house, McKeith dragged the prisoners, and through the gateway in the palings which made the fourth side of the enclosure. With one hand he clutched Wombo, with the other Oola, who in her lace-trimmed petticoat and flowered kimono was truly a tragi-comic spectacle. McKeith carried his coiled stockwhip in the hand which held Wombo.
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