BENITA--AN AFRICAN ROMANCE

By H. Rider Haggard

 NOTES

 It may interest readers of this story to know that its author believes it to have a certain foundation in fact. 

 It was said about five-and-twenty or thirty years ago that an adventurous trader, hearing from some natives in the territory that lies at the back of Quilimane, the legend of a great treasure buried in or about the sixteenth century by a party of Portuguese who were afterwards massacred, as a last resource attempted its discovery by the help of a mesmerist. According to this history the child who was used as a subject in the experiment, when in a state of trance, detailed the adventures and death of the unhappy Portuguese men and women, two of whom leapt from the point of a high rock into the Zambesi. Although he knew no tongue but English, this clairvoyant child is declared to have repeated in Portuguese the prayers these unfortunates offered up, and even to have sung the very hymns they sang. Moreover, with much other detail, he described the burial of the great treasure and its exact situation so accurately that the white man and the mesmerist were able to dig for and find the place where _it had been_--for the bags were gone, swept out by the floods of the river. 

 Some gold coins remained, however, one of them a ducat of Aloysius Mocenigo, Doge of Venice. Afterwards the boy was again thrown into a trance (in all he was mesmerized eight times), and revealed where the sacks still lay; but before the white trader could renew his search for them, the party was hunted out of the country by natives whose superstitious fears were aroused, barely escaping with their lives. 

 It should be added that, as in the following tale, the chief who was ruling there when the tragedy happened, declared the place to be sacred, and that if it were entered evil would befall his tribe. Thus it came about that for generations it was never violated, until at length his descendants were driven farther from the river by war, and from one of them the white man heard the legend. 

BENITA--AN AFRICAN ROMANCE

I

CONFIDENCES

Beautiful, beautiful was that night! No air that stirred; the blacksmoke from the funnels of the mail steamer _Zanzibar_ lay low over thesurface of the sea like vast, floating ostrich plumes that vanished oneby one in the starlight. Benita Beatrix Clifford, for that was her fullname, who had been christened Benita after her mother and Beatrix afterher father's only sister, leaning idly over the bulwark rail, thoughtto herself that a child might have sailed that sea in a boat of bark andcome safely into port. 

Then a tall man of about thirty years of age, who was smoking a cigar, strolled up to her. At his coming she moved a little as though to makeroom for him beside her, and there was something in the motion which, had anyone been there to observe it, might have suggested that these twowere upon terms of friendship, or still greater intimacy. For a momenthe hesitated, and while he did so an expression of doubt, of distresseven, gathered on his face. It was as though he understood that a greatdeal depended on whether he accepted or declined that gentle invitation, and knew not which to do. 

Indeed, much did depend upon it, no less than the destinies of both ofthem. If Robert Seymour had gone by to finish his cigar in solitude, whythen this story would have had a very different ending; or, rather, whocan say how it might have ended? The dread, foredoomed event with whichthat night was big would have come to its awful birth leaving certainwords unspoken. Violent separation must have ensued, and even if both ofthem had survived the terror, what prospect was there that their liveswould again have crossed each other in that wide Africa?

But it was not so fated, for just as he put his foot forward to continuehis march Benita spoke in her low and pleasant voice. 

"Are you going to the smoking-room or to the saloon to dance, Mr. Seymour? One of the officers just told me that there is to be a dance, "she added, in explanation, "because it is so calm that we might fancyourselves ashore. "

"Neither, " he answered. "The smoking-room is stuffy, and my dancing daysare over. No; I proposed to take exercise after that big dinner, andthen to sit in a chair and fall asleep. But, " he added, and his voicegrew interested, "how did you know that it was I? You never turned yourhead. "

"I have ears in my head as well as eyes, " she answered with a littlelaugh, "and after we have been nearly a month together on this ship Iought to know your step. "

"I never remember that anyone ever recognized it before, " he said, moreto himself than to her, then came and leaned over the rail at her side. His doubts were gone. Fate had spoken. 

For a while there was silence between them, then he asked her if shewere not going to the dance. 

Benita shook her head. 

"Why not? You are fond of dancing, and you dance very well. Also thereare plenty of officers for partners, especially Captain----" and hechecked himself. 

"I know, " she said; "it would be pleasant, but--Mr. Seymour, will youthink me foolish if I tell you something?"

"I have never thought you foolish yet, Miss Clifford, so I don't knowwhy I should begin now. What is it?"

"I am not going to the dance because I am afraid, yes, horribly afraid. "

"Afraid! Afraid of what?"

"I don't quite know, but, Mr. Seymour, I feel as though we were allof us upon the edge of some dreadful catastrophe--as though there wereabout to be a mighty change, and beyond it another life, somethingnew and unfamiliar. It came over me at dinner--that was why I left thetable. Quite suddenly I looked, and all the people were different, yes, all except a few. "

"Was I different?" he asked curiously. 

"No, you were not, " and he thought he heard her add "Thank God!" beneathher breath. 

"And were you different?"

"I don't know. I never looked at myself; I was the seer, not the seen. Ihave always been like that. "

"Indigestion, " he said reflectively. "We eat too much on board ship, and the dinner was very long and heavy. I told you so, that's why I'mtaking--I mean why I wanted to take exercise. "

"And to go to sleep afterwards. "

"Yes, first the exercise, then the sleep. Miss Clifford, that is therule of life--and death. With sleep thought ends, therefore for some ofus your catastrophe is much to be desired, for it would mean long sleepand no thought. "

"I said that they were changed, not that they had ceased to think. Perhaps they thought the more. "

"Then let us pray that your catastrophe may be averted. I prescribefor you bismuth and carbonate of soda. Also in this weather it seemsdifficult to imagine such a thing. Look now, Miss Clifford, " he added, with a note of enthusiasm in his voice, pointing towards the east, "look. "

Her eyes followed his outstretched hand, and there, above the levelocean, rose the great orb of the African moon. Lo! of a sudden all thatocean turned to silver, a wide path of rippling silver stretched fromit to them. It might have been the road of angels. The sweet soft lightbeat upon their ship, showing its tapering masts and every detail of therigging. It passed on beyond them, and revealed the low, foam-fringedcoast-line rising here and there, dotted with kloofs and their clingingbush. Even the round huts of Kaffir kraals became faintly visible inthat radiance. Other things became visible also--for instance, thefeatures of this pair. 

The man was light in his colouring, fair-skinned, with fair hair whichalready showed a tendency towards greyness, especially in the moustache, for he wore no beard. His face was clean cut, not particularly handsome, since, their fineness notwithstanding, his features lacked regularity;the cheekbones were too high and the chin was too small, small faultsredeemed to some extent by the steady and cheerful grey eyes. Forthe rest, he was broad-shouldered and well-set-up, sealed with theindescribable stamp of the English gentleman. Such was the appearance ofRobert Seymour. 

In that light the girl at his side looked lovely, though, in fact, shehad no real claims to loveliness, except perhaps as regards her figure, which was agile, rounded, and peculiarly graceful. Her foreign-lookingface was unusual, dark-eyed, a somewhat large and very mobile mouth, fair and waving hair, a broad forehead, a sweet and at times wistfulface, thoughtful for the most part, but apt to be irradiated by suddensmiles. Not a beautiful woman at all, but exceedingly attractive, onepossessing magnetism. 

She gazed, first at the moon and the silver road beneath it, then, turning, at the land beyond. 

"We are very near to Africa, at last, " she said. 

"Too near, I think, " he answered. "If I were the captain I should standout a point or two. It is a strange country, full of surprises. MissClifford, will you think me rude if I ask you why you are going there?You have never told me--quite. "

"No, because the story is rather a sad one; but you shall hear it if youwish. Do you?"

He nodded, and drew up two deck chairs, in which they settled themselvesin a corner made by one of the inboard boats, their faces still towardsthe sea. 

"You know I was born in Africa, " she said, "and lived there till I wasthirteen years old--why, I find I can still speak Zulu; I did so thisafternoon. My father was one of the early settlers in Natal. His fatherwas a clergyman, a younger son of the Lincolnshire Cliffords. They aregreat people there still, though I don't suppose that they are aware ofmy existence. "

"I know them, " answered Robert Seymour. "Indeed, I was shooting at theirplace last November--when the smash came, " and he sighed; "but go on. "

"Well, my father quarrelled with his father, I don't know what about, and emigrated. In Natal he married my mother, a Miss Ferreira, whosename--like mine and her mother's--was Benita. She was one of twosisters, and her father, Andreas Ferreira, who married an English lady, was half Dutch and half Portuguese. I remember him well, a fine old manwith dark eyes and an iron-grey beard. He was wealthy as things wentin those days--that is to say, he had lots of land in Natal and theTransvaal, and great herds of stock. So you see I am half English, someDutch, and more than a quarter Portuguese--quite a mixture of races. Myfather and mother did not get on well together. Mr. Seymour, I may aswell tell you all the truth: he drank, and although he was passionatelyfond of her, she was jealous of him. Also he gambled away most of herpatrimony, and after old Andreas Ferreira's death they grew poor. Onenight there was a dreadful scene between them, and in his madness hestruck her. 

"Well, she was a very proud woman, determined, too, and she turned onhim and said--for I heard her--'I will never forgive you; we have donewith each other. ' Next morning, when my father was sober, he begged herpardon, but she made no answer, although he was starting somewhere ona fortnight's trek. When he had gone my mother ordered the Cape cart, packed up her clothes, took some money that she had put away, drove toDurban, and after making arrangements at the bank about a small privateincome of her own, sailed with me for England, leaving a letter for myfather in which she said that she would never see him again, and if hetried to interfere with me she would put me under the protection of theEnglish court, which would not allow me to be taken to the home of adrunkard. 

"In England we went to live in London with my aunt, who had married aMajor King, but was a widow with five children. My father often wrote topersuade my mother to go back to him, but she never would, which I thinkwas wrong of her. So things went on for twelve years or more, tillone day my mother suddenly died, and I came into her little fortune ofbetween £200 and £300 a year, which she had tied up so that nobody cantouch it. That was about a year ago. I wrote to tell my father of herdeath, and received a pitiful letter; indeed, I have had several ofthem. He implored me to come out to him and not to leave him to die inhis loneliness, as he soon would do of a broken heart, if I did not. Hesaid that he had long ago given up drinking, which was the cause of theruin of his life, and sent a certificate signed by a magistrate and adoctor to that effect. Well, in the end, although all my cousins andtheir mother advised me against it, I consented, and here I am. He is tomeet me at Durban, but how we shall get on together is more than I cansay, though I long to see him, for after all he is my father. "

"It was good of you to come, under all the circumstances. You must havea brave heart, " said Robert reflectively. 

"It is my duty, " she answered. "And for the rest, I am not afraid whowas born to Africa. Indeed, often and often have I wished to be backthere again, out on the veld, far away from the London streets and fog. I am young and strong, and I want to see things, natural things--notthose made by man, you know--the things I remember as a child. One canalways go back to London. "

"Yes, or at least some people can. It is a curious thing, Miss Clifford, but as it happens I have met your father. You always reminded me of theman, but I had forgotten his name. Now it comes back to me; it _was_Clifford. "

"Where on earth?" she asked, astonished. 

"In a queer place. As I told you, I have visited South Africa before, under different circumstances. Four years ago I was out here big-gameshooting. Going in from the East coast my brother and I--he is dead now, poor fellow--got up somewhere in the Matabele country, on the banks ofthe Zambesi. As we didn't find much game there we were going to strikesouth, when some natives told us of a wonderful ruin that stood ona hill overhanging the river a few miles farther on. So, leaving thewaggon on the hither side of the steep nek, over which it would havebeen difficult to drag it, my brother and I took our rifles and a bagof food and started. The place was farther off than we thought, althoughfrom the top of the nek we could see it clearly enough, and before wereached it dark had fallen. 

"Now we had observed a waggon and a tent outside the wall which wethought must belong to white men, and headed for them. There was a lightin the tent, and the flap was open, the night being very hot. Insidetwo men were seated, one old, with a grey beard, and the other, agood-looking fellow--under forty, I should say--with a Jewish face, dark, piercing eyes, and a black, pointed beard. They were engagedin examining a heap of gold beads and bangles, which lay on the tablebetween them. As I was about to speak, the black-bearded man heard orcaught sight of us, and seizing a rifle that leaned against the table, swung round and covered me. 

"'For God's sake don't shoot, Jacob, ' said the old man; 'they areEnglish. '

"'Best dead, any way, ' answered the other, in a soft voice, with aslight foreign accent, 'we don't want spies or thieves here. '

"'We are neither, but I can shoot as well as you, friend, ' I remarked, for by this time my rifle was on him. 

"Then he thought better of it, and dropped his gun, and we explainedthat we were merely on an archæological expedition. The end of it wasthat we became capital friends, though neither of us could cotton muchto Mr. Jacob--I forget his other name. He struck me as too handy withhis rifle, and was, I gathered, an individual with a mysterious andrather lurid past. To cut a long story short, when he found out thatwe had no intention of poaching, your father, for it was he, told usfrankly that they were treasure-hunting, having got hold of somestory about a vast store of gold which had been hidden away there byPortuguese two or three centuries before. Their trouble was, however, that the Makalanga, who lived in the fortress, which was calledBambatse, would not allow them to dig, because they said the place washaunted, and if they did so it would bring bad luck to their tribe. "

"And did they ever get in?" asked Benita. 

"I am sure I don't know, for we went next day, though before we left wecalled on the Makalanga, who admitted us all readily enough so long aswe brought no spades with us. By the way, the gold we saw your fatherand his friend examining was found in some ancient graves outside thewalls, but had nothing to do with the big and mythical treasure. "

"What was the place like? I love old ruins, " broke in Benita again. 

"Oh! wonderful. A gigantic, circular wall built by heaven knows who, then half-way up the hill another wall, and near the top a third wallwhich, I understood, surrounded a sort of holy of holies, and aboveeverything, on the brink of the precipice, a great cone of granite. "

"Artificial or natural?"

"I don't know. They would not let us up there, but we were introducedto their chief and high priest, Church and State in one, and a wonderfulold man he was, very wise and very gentle. I remember he told me hebelieved we should meet again, which seemed an odd thing for him to say. I asked him about the treasure and why he would not let the other whitemen look for it. He answered that it would never be found by any man, white or black, that only a woman would find it at the appointed time, when it pleased the Spirit of Bambatse, under whose guardianship itwas. "

"Who was the Spirit of Bambatse, Mr. Seymour?"

"I can't tell you, couldn't make out anything definite about her, exceptthat she was said to be white, and to appear sometimes at sunrise, or inthe moonlight, standing upon the tall point of rock of which I told you. I remember that I got up before the dawn to look for her--like an idiot, for of course I saw nothing--and that's all I know about the matter. "

"Did you have any talk with my father, Mr. Seymour--alone, I mean?"

"Yes, a little. The next day he walked back to our waggon with us, beingglad, I fancy, of a change from the perpetual society of his partnerJacob. That wasn't wonderful in a man who had been brought up atEton and Oxford, as I found out he had, like myself, and whatever hisfailings may have been--although we saw no sign of them, for he wouldnot touch a drop of spirits--was a gentleman, which Jacob wasn't. Still, he--Jacob--had read a lot, especially on out-of-the-way subjects, and could talk every language under the sun--a clever and agreeablescoundrel in short. "

"Did my father say anything about himself?"

"Yes; he told me that he had been an unsuccessful man all his life, and had much to reproach himself with, for we got quite confidential atlast. He added that he had a family in England--what family he didn'tsay--whom he was anxious to make wealthy by way of reparation for pastmisdeeds, and that was why he was treasure-hunting. However, from whatyou tell me, I fear he never found anything. "

"No, Mr. Seymour, he never found it and never will, but all the sameI am glad to hear that he was thinking of us. Also I should like toexplore that place, Bambatse. "

"So should I, Miss Clifford, in your company, and your father's, but notin that of Jacob. If ever you should go there with him, I say:--'Bewareof Jacob. '"

"Oh! I am not afraid of Jacob, " she answered with a laugh, "although Ibelieve that my father still has something to do with him--at least inone of his letters he mentioned his partner, who was a German. "

"A German! I think that he must have meant a German Jew. "

After this there was silence between them for a time, then he saidsuddenly, "You have told me your story, would you like to hear mine?"

"Yes, " she answered. 

"Well, it won't take you long to listen to it, for, Miss Clifford, like Canning's needy knife-grinder, I have really none to tell. Yousee before you one of the most useless persons in the world, anundistinguished member of what is called in England the 'leisuredclass, ' who can do absolutely nothing that is worth doing, except shootstraight. "

"Indeed, " said Benita. 

"You do not seem impressed with that accomplishment, " he went on, "yetit is an honest fact that for the last fifteen years--I was thirty-twothis month--practically my whole time has been given up to it, with alittle fishing thrown in in the spring. As I want to make the most ofmyself, I will add that I am supposed to be among the six best shots inEngland, and that my ambition--yes, great Heavens! my ambition--was tobecome better than the other five. By that sin fell the poor man whospeaks to you. I was supposed to have abilities, but I neglected themall to pursue this form of idleness. I entered no profession, I didno work, with the result that at thirty-two I am ruined and almosthopeless. "

"Why ruined and hopeless?" she asked anxiously, for the way in whichthey were spoken grieved her more than the words themselves. 

"Ruined because my old uncle, the Honourable John Seymour Seymour, whoseheir I was, committed the indiscretion of marrying a young lady who haspresented him with thriving twins. With the appearance of those twins myprospects disappeared, as did the allowance of £1, 500 a year that hewas good enough to make me on which to keep up a position as hisnext-of-kin. I had something of my own, but also I had debts, and at thepresent moment a draft in my pocket for £2, 163 14s. 5d. , and a littleloose cash, represents the total of my worldly goods, just about the sumI have been accustomed to spend per annum. "

"I don't call that ruin, I call that riches, " said Benita, relieved. "With £2, 000 to begin on you may make a fortune in Africa. But how aboutthe hopelessness?"

"I am hopeless because I have absolutely nothing to which to lookforward. Really, when that £2, 000 is gone I do not know how to earn asixpence. In this dilemma it occurred to me that the only thing I coulddo was to turn my shooting to practical account, and become a hunter ofbig game. Therefore I propose to kill elephants until an elephant killsme. At least, " he added in a changed voice, "I did so propose until halfan hour ago. "

II

THE END OF THE "ZANZIBAR. "

"Until half an hour ago? Then why----" and Benita stopped. 

"Have I changed my very modest scheme of life? Miss Clifford, as you areso good as to be sufficiently interested, I will tell you. It is becausea temptation which hitherto I have been able to resist, has during thelast thirty minutes become too strong for me. You know everything hasits breaking strain. " He puffed nervously at his cigar, threw it intothe sea, paused, then went on: "Miss Clifford, I have dared to fall inlove with you. No; hear me out. When I have done it will be quite timeenough to give me the answer that I expect. Meanwhile, for the firsttime in my life, allow me the luxury of being in earnest. To me it is anew sensation, and therefore very priceless. May I go on?"

Benita made no answer. He rose with a certain deliberateness whichcharacterized all his movements--for Robert Seymour never seemed to bein a hurry--and stood in front of her so that the moonlight shone uponher face, while his own remained in shadow. 

"Beyond that £2, 000 of which I have spoken, and incidentally itsowner, I have nothing whatsoever to offer to you. I am an indigent andworthless person. Even in my prosperous days, when I could look forwardto a large estate, although it was often suggested to me, I neverconsidered myself justified in asking any lady to share--the prospectiveestate. I think now that the real reason was that I never caredsufficiently for any lady, since otherwise my selfishness would probablyhave overcome my scruples, as it does to-night. Benita, for I will callyou so, if for the first and last time, I--I--love you. 

"Listen now, " he went on, dropping his measured manner, and speakinghurriedly, like a man with an earnest message and little time in whichto deliver it, "it is an odd thing, an incomprehensible thing, buttrue, true--I fell in love with you the first time I saw your face. Youremember, you stood there leaning over the bulwark when I came on boardat Southampton, and as I walked up the gangway, I looked and my eyes metyours. Then I stopped, and that stout old lady who got off at Madeirabumped into me, and asked me to be good enough to make up my mind if Iwere going backward or forward. Do you remember?"

"Yes, " she answered in a low voice. 

"Which things are an allegory, " he continued. "I felt it so at the time. Yes, I had half a mind to answer 'Backward' and give up my berth inthis ship. Then I looked at you again, and something inside of me said'Forward. ' So I came up the rest of the gangway and took off my hatto you, a salutation I had no right to make, but which, I recall, youacknowledged. "

He paused, then continued: "As it began, so it has gone on. It is alwayslike that, is it not? The beginning is everything, the end must follow. And now it has come out, as I was fully determined that it should not dohalf an hour ago, when suddenly you developed eyes in the back of yourhead, and--oh! dearest, I love you. No, please be quiet; I have notdone. I have told you what I am, and really there isn't much more to sayabout me, for I have no particular vices except the worst of them all, idleness, and not the slightest trace of any virtue that I can discover. But I have a certain knowledge of the world acquired in a long course ofshooting parties, and as a man of the world I will venture to give you abit of advice. It is possible that to you my life and death affair isa mere matter of board-ship amusement. Yet it is possible also that youmight take another view of the matter. In that case, as a friend and aman of the world, I entreat you--don't. Have nothing to do with me. Sendme about my business; you will never regret it. "

"Are you making fun, or is all this meant, Mr. Seymour?" asked Benita, still speaking beneath her breath, and looking straight before her. 

"Meant? Of course it is meant. How can you ask?"

"Because I have always understood that on such occasions people wish tomake the best of themselves. "

"Quite so, but I never do what I ought, a fact for which I am gratefulnow come to think of it, since otherwise I should not be here to-night. I wish to make the worst of myself, the very worst, for whatever I amnot, at least I am honest. Now having told you that I am, or was halfan hour ago, an idler, a good-for-nothing, prospectless failure, I askyou--if you care to hear any more?"

She half rose, and, glancing at him for the first time, saw his facecontract itself and turn pale in the moonlight. It may be that thesight of it affected her, even to the extent of removing some adverseimpression left by the bitter mocking of his self-blame. At any rate, Benita seemed to change her mind, and sat down again, saying:

"Go on, if you wish. "

He bowed slightly, and said:

"I thank you. I have told you what I _was_ half an hour ago; now, hopingthat you will believe me, I will tell you what I _am_. I am a trulyrepentant man, one upon whom a new light has risen. I am not very old, and I think that underneath it all I have some ability. Opportunitymay still come my way; if it does not, for your sake I will make theopportunity. I do not believe that you can ever find anyone who wouldlove you better or care for you more tenderly. I desire to live for youin the future, more completely even than in the past I have lived formyself. I do not wish to influence you by personal appeals, but in factI stand at the parting of the ways. If you will give yourself to meI feel as though I might still become a husband of whom you could beproud--if not, I write 'Finis' upon the tombstone of the possibilitiesof Robert Seymour. I adore you. You are the one woman with whom I desireto pass my days; it is you who have always been lacking to my life. Iask you to be brave, to take the risk of marrying me, although I can seenothing but poverty ahead of us, for I am an adventurer. "

"Don't speak like that, " she said quickly. "We are all of us adventurersin this world, and I more than you. We have just to consider ourselves, not what we have or have not. "

"So be it, Miss Clifford. Then I have nothing more to say; now it is foryou to answer. "

Just then the sound of the piano and the fiddle in the saloon ceased. One of the waltzes was over, and some of the dancers came upon deck toflirt or to cool themselves. One pair, engaged very obviously in theformer occupation, stationed themselves so near to Robert and Benitathat further conversation between them was impossible, and thereproceeded to interchange the remarks common to such occasions. 

For a good ten minutes did they stand thus, carrying on a mock quarrelas to a dance of which one of them was supposed to have been defrauded, until Robert Seymour, generally a very philosophical person, could haveslain those innocent lovers. He felt, he knew not why, that his chanceswere slipping away from him; that sensation of something bad about tohappen, of which Benita had spoken, spread from her to him. The suspensegrew exasperating, terrible even, nor could it be ended. To ask her tocome elsewhere was under the circumstances not feasible, especially ashe would also have been obliged to request the other pair to make wayfor them, and all this time, with a sinking of the heart, he felt thatprobably Benita was beating down any tenderness which she might feeltowards him; that when her long-delayed answer did come the chances wereit would be "No. "

The piano began to play again in the saloon, and the young people, stillsquabbling archly, at length prepared to depart. Suddenly there was astir upon the bridge, and against the tender sky Robert saw a man dashforward. Next instant the engine-room bell rang fiercely. He knew thesignal--it was "Stop, " followed at once by other ringings that meant"Full speed astern. "

"I wonder what is up?" said the young man to the young woman. 

Before the words had left his lips they knew. There was a sensation asthough all the hull of the great ship had come to a complete standstill, while the top part of her continued to travel forward; followed byanother sensation still more terrible and sickening in its nature--thatof slipping over something, helplessly, heavily, as a man slips upon iceor a polished floor. Spars cracked, ropes flew in two with a noise as ofpistol shots. Heavy objects rushed about the deck, travelling forwardsall of them. Benita was hurled from her chair against Robert so that thetwo of them rolled into the scuppers. He was unhurt and picked himselfup, but she lay still, and he saw that something had struck her upon thehead, for blood was running down her cheek. He lifted her, and, filledwith black horror and despair--for he thought her gone--pressed his handupon her heart. Thank God! it began to beat again--she still lived. 

The music in the saloon had stopped, and for a little while therewas silence. Then of an instant there arose the horrible clamour ofshipwreck; wild-eyed people rushed to and fro aimlessly; here and therewomen and children shrieked; a clergyman fell upon his knees and beganto pray. 

This went on for a space, till presently the second officer appearedand, affecting an unconcerned air, called out that it was all right, thecaptain said no one was to be afraid. He added that they were not morethan six miles from the shore, and that the ship would be beached inhalf an hour. Indeed, as he spoke the engines, which had been stopped, commenced to work again, and her head swung round in a wide circle, pointing to the land. Evidently they had passed over the rock and wereonce more in deep water, through which they travelled at a good speedbut with a heavy list to starboard. The pumps got to work also with amonotonous, clanging beat, throwing out great columns of foaming wateron to the oily sea. Men began to cut the covers off the boats, and toswing some of them outboard. Such were the things that went on aboutthem. 

With the senseless Benita clasped to his breast, the blood from her cuthead running down his shoulder, Robert stood still awhile, thinking. Then he made up his mind. As it chanced, she had a deck cabin, andthither he forced his way, carrying her tenderly and with patiencethrough the distracted throng of passengers, for there were five hundredsouls on board that ship. He reached the place to find that it was quiteempty, her cabinmate having fled. Laying Benita upon the lower bunk, he lit the swinging candle. As soon as it burned up he searched forthe lifebelts and by good fortune found two of them, one of which, notwithout great difficulty, he succeeded in fastening round her. Then hetook a sponge and bathed her head with water. There was a great bruiseupon her temple where the block or whatever it was had struck her, andthe blood still flowed; but the wound was not very deep or extensive, nor, so far as he could discover, did the bone appear to be broken ordriven in. He had good hope that she was only stunned, and would revivepresently. Unable to do more for her, a thought struck him. On the floorof the cabin, thrown by the shock from the rack, lay her writing case. He opened it, and taking a piece of paper wrote these words hurriedly inpencil:

"You gave me no answer, and it is more than probable that I shallreceive none in this world which one or both of us may be upon theverge of leaving. In the latter case we can settle the matterelsewhere--perhaps. In the former, should it be my lot to go and yoursto stay, I hope that you will think kindly of me at times as of onewho loved you truly. Should it be yours to go, then you will never readthese words. Yet if to the dead is given knowledge, be assured that asyou left me so you shall find me, yours and yours alone. Or perhaps weboth may live; I pray so. --S. R. S. "

Folding up the paper, he undid a button of Benita's blouse and thrustit away there, knowing that thus she would certainly find it should shesurvive. Then he stepped out on to the deck to see what was happening. The vessel still steamed, but made slow progress; moreover, the list tostarboard was now so pronounced that it was difficult to stand upright. On account of it nearly all the passengers were huddled together uponthe port side, having instinctively taken refuge as far as possibleabove the water. A man with a white, distraught face staggered towardshim, supporting himself by the bulwarks. It was the captain. For amoment he paused as though to think, holding to a stanchion. RobertSeymour saw his opportunity and addressed him. 

"Forgive me, " he said; "I do not like interfering with other people'sbusiness, but for reasons unconnected with myself I suggest to you thatit would be wise to stop this ship and get out the boats. The sea iscalm; if it is not left till too late there should be no difficulty inlaunching them. "

The man stared at him absently, then said:

"They won't hold everybody, Mr. Seymour. I hope to beach her. "

"At least they will hold some, " he answered, "whereas----" And hepointed to the water, which by now was almost level with the deck. 

"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Seymour. It doesn't matter to me, anyway. Iam a ruined man; but the poor passengers--the poor passengers!" And hescrambled away fiercely towards the bridge like a wounded cat alongthe bough of a tree, whence in a few seconds Robert heard him shoutingorders. 

A minute or so afterwards the steamer stopped. Too late the captainhad decided to sacrifice his ship and save those she carried. They werebeginning to get out the boats. Now Robert returned to the cabin whereBenita was lying senseless, and wrapped her up in a cloak and someblankets. Then, seeing the second lifebelt on the floor, by anafterthought he put it on, knowing that there was time to spare. Next helifted Benita, and feeling sure that the rush would be for the starboardside, on which the boats were quite near the water, carried her, withdifficulty, for the slope was steep, to the port-cutter, which he knewwould be in the charge of a good man, the second officer, whom he hadseen in command there at Sunday boat-drills. 

Here, as he had anticipated, the crowd was small, since most peoplethought that it would not be possible to get this boat down safely tothe water; or if their powers of reflection were gone, instinct toldthem so. That skilful seaman, the second officer, and his appointedcrew, were already at work lowering the cutter from the davits. 

"Now, " he said, "women and children first. "

A number rushed in, and Robert saw that the boat would soon be full. 

"I am afraid, " he said, "that I must count myself a woman as I carryone, " and by a great effort, holding Benita with one arm, with the otherhe let himself down the falls and, assisted by a quartermaster, gainedthe boat in safety. 

One or two other men scrambled after him. 

"Push her off, " said the officer; "she can hold no more, " and the ropeswere let go. 

When they were about twelve feet from the ship's side, from whichthey thrust themselves clear with oars, there came a rush of people, disappointed of places in the starboard boats. A few of the boldestof these swarmed down the falls, others jumped and fell among them, ormissed and dropped into the sea, or struck upon the sides of the boatand were killed. Still she reached the water upon an even keel, thoughnow much overladen. The oars were got out, and they rowed round the bowof the great ship wallowing in her death-throes, their first idea beingto make for the shore, which was not three miles away. 

This brought them to the starboard side, where they saw a hideous scene. Hundreds of people seemed to be fighting for room, with the result thatsome of the boats were overturned, precipitating their occupants intothe water. Others hung by the prow or the stern, the ropes having jammedin the davits in the frantic haste and confusion, while from them humanbeings dropped one by one. Round others not yet launched a hellishstruggle was in progress, the struggle of men, women, and childrenbattling for their lives, in which the strong, mad with terror, showedno mercy to the weak. 

From that mass of humanity, most of them about to perish, went up ababel of sounds which in its sum shaped itself to one prolonged scream, such as might proceed from a Titan in his agony. All this beneath abrooding, moonlit sky, and on a sea as smooth as glass. Upon the ship, which now lay upon her side, the siren still sent up its yells forsuccour, and some brave man continued to fire rockets, which rushedheavenwards and burst in showers of stars. 

Robert remembered that the last rocket he had seen was fired at anevening _fête_ for the amusement of the audience. The contrast struckhim as dreadful. He wondered whether there were any power or infernalpopulation that could be amused by a tragedy such as enacted itselfbefore his eyes; how it came about also that such a tragedy waspermitted by the merciful Strength in which mankind put their faith. 

The vessel was turning over, compressed air or steam burst up the deckswith loud reports; fragments of wreckage flew into the air. There thepoor captain still clung to the rail of the bridge. Seymour could seehis white face--the moonlight seemed to paint it with a ghastly smile. The officer in command of their boat shouted to the crew to give waylest they should be sucked down with the steamer. 

Look! Now she wallowed like a dying whale, the moonrays shone white uponher bottom, showing the jagged rent made in it by the rock on which shehad struck, and now she was gone. Only a little cloud of smoke and steamremained to mark where the _Zanzibar_ had been. 

III

HOW ROBERT CAME ASHORE

In place of the _Zanzibar_ a great pit on the face of the ocean, inwhich the waters boiled and black objects appeared and disappeared. 

"Sit still, for your lives' sake, " said the officer in a quiet voice;"the suck is coming. "

In another minute it came, dragging them downward till the watertrickled over the sides of the boat, and backward towards the pit. Butbefore ever they reached it the deep had digested its prey, and, savefor the great air-bubbles which burst about them and a mixed, unnaturalswell, was calm again. For the moment they were safe. 

"Passengers, " said the officer, "I am going to put out to sea--at anyrate, till daylight. We may meet a vessel there, and if we try to rowashore we shall certainly be swamped in the breakers. "

No one objected; they seemed too stunned to speak, but Robert thought tohimself that the man was wise. They began to move, but before they hadgone a dozen yards something dark rose beside them. It was a pieceof wreckage, and clinging to it a woman, who clasped a bundle to herbreast. More, she was alive, for she began to cry to them to take herin. 

"Save me and my child!" she cried. "For God's sake save me!"

Robert recognized the choking voice; it was that of a young married ladywith whom he had been very friendly, who was going out with her baby tojoin her husband in Natal. He stretched out his hand and caught hold ofher, whereon the officer said, heavily:

"The boat is already overladen. I must warn you that to take more aboardis not safe. "

Thereon the passengers awoke from their stupor. 

"Push her off, " cried a voice; "she must take her chance. " And there wasa murmur of approval at the dreadful words. 

"For Christ's sake--for Christ's sake!" wailed the drowning woman, whoclung desperately to Robert's hand. 

"If you try to pull her in, we will throw you overboard, " said the voiceagain, and a knife was lifted as though to hack at his arm. Then theofficer spoke once more. 

"This lady cannot come into the boat unless someone goes out of it. Iwould myself, but it is my duty to stay. Is there any man here who willmake place for her?"

But all the men there--seven of them, besides the crew--hung their headsand were silent. 

"Give way, " said the officer in the same heavy voice; "she will drop offpresently. "

While the words passed his lips Robert seemed to live a year. Here wasan opportunity of atonement for his idle and luxurious life. An hour agohe would have taken it gladly, but now--now, with Benita senseless onhis breast, and that answer still locked in her sleeping heart? YetBenita would approve of such a death as this, and even if she loved himnot in life, would learn to love his memory. In an instant his mind wasmade up, and he was speaking rapidly. 

"Thompson, " he said to the officer, "if I go, will you swear to take herin and her child?"

"Certainly, Mr. Seymour. "

"Then lay to; I am going. If any of you live, tell this lady how Idied, " and he pointed to Benita, "and say I thought that she would wishit. "

"She shall be told, " said the officer again, "and saved, too, if I cando it. "

"Hold Mrs. Jeffreys, then, till I am out of this. I'll leave my coat tocover her. "

A sailor obeyed, and with difficulty Robert wrenched free his hand. 

Very deliberately he pressed Benita to his breast and kissed her on theforehead, then let her gently slide on to the bottom of the boat. Nexthe slipped off his overcoat and slowly rolled himself over the gunwaleinto the sea. 

"Now, " he said, "pull Mrs. Jeffreys in. "

"God bless you; you are a brave man, " said Thompson. "I shall rememberyou if I live a hundred years. "

But no one else said anything; perhaps they were all too much ashamed, even then. 

"I have only done my duty, " Seymour answered from the water. "How far isit to the shore?"

"About three miles, " shouted Thompson. "But keep on that plank, or youwill never live through the rollers. Good-bye. "

"Good-bye, " answered Robert. 

Then the boat passed away from him and soon vanished in the misty faceof the deep. 

Resting on the plank which had saved the life of Mrs. Jeffreys, RobertSeymour looked about him and listened. Now and again he heard a faint, choking scream uttered by some drowning wretch, and a few hundred yardsaway caught sight of a black object which he thought might be a boat. Ifso, he reflected that it must be full. Moreover, he could not overtakeit. No; his only chance was to make for the shore. He was a strongswimmer, and happily the water was almost as warm as milk. There seemedto be no reason why he should not reach it, supported as he was by alifebelt, if the sharks would leave him alone, which they might, asthere was plenty for them to feed on. The direction he knew well enough, for now in the great silence of the sea he could hear the boom of themighty rollers breaking on the beach. 

Ah, those rollers! He remembered how that very afternoon Benita and hehad watched them through his field glass sprouting up against the cruelwalls of rock, and wondered that when the ocean was so calm they hadstill such power. Now, should he live to reach them, he was doomed tomatch himself against that power. Well, the sooner he did so the soonerit would be over, one way or the other. This was in his favour: the tidehad turned, and was flowing shorewards. Indeed, he had little to do butto rest upon his plank, which he placed crosswise beneath his breast, and steered himself with his feet. Even thus he made good progress, nearly a mile an hour perhaps. He could have gone faster had he swum, but he was saving his strength. 

It was a strange journey upon that silent sea beneath those silentstars, and strange thoughts came into Robert's soul. He wondered whetherBenita would live and what she would say. Perhaps, however, she wasalready dead, and he would meet her presently. He wondered if he weredoomed to die, and whether this sacrifice of his would be allowed toatone for his past errors. He hoped so, and put up a petition to thateffect, for himself and for Benita, and for all the poor people who hadgone before, hurled from their pleasure into the halls of Death. 

So he floated on while the boom of the breakers grew ever nearer, companioned by his wild, fretful thoughts, till at length what he tookto be a shark appeared quite close to him, and in the urgency of themoment he gave up wondering. It proved to be only a piece of wood, butlater on a real shark did come, for he saw its back fin. However, thiscruel creature was either gorged or timid, for when he splashed upon thewater and shouted, it went away, to return no more. 

Now, at length, Robert entered upon the deep hill and valley swell whichpreceded the field of the rollers. Suddenly he shot down a smooth slope, and without effort of his own found himself borne up an opposing steep, from the crest of which he had a view of white lines of foam, and beyondthem of a dim and rocky shore. At one spot, a little to his right, thefoam seemed thinner and the line of cliff to be broken, as though herethere was a cleft. For this cleft, then, he steered his plank, takingthe swell obliquely, which by good fortune the set of the tide enabledhim to do without any great exertion. 

The valleys grew deeper, and the tops of the opposing ridges werecrested with foam. He had entered the rollers, and the struggle for lifebegan. Before him they rushed solemn and mighty. Viewed from some safeplace even the sight of these combers is terrible, as any who havewatched them from this coast, or from that of the Island of Ascension, can bear witness. What their aspect was to this shipwrecked man, supported by a single plank, may therefore be imagined, seen, as hesaw them, in the mysterious moonlight and in utter loneliness. Yet hisspirit rose to meet the dread emergency; if he were to die, he would diefighting. He had grown cold and tired, but now the chill and wearinessleft him; he felt warm and strong. From the crest of one of the highrollers he thought he saw that about half a mile away from him a littleriver ran down the centre of the gorge, and for the mouth of this riverhe laid his course. 

At first all went well. He was borne up the seas; he slid down the seasin a lather of white foam. Presently the rise and fall grew steeper, and the foam began to break over his head. Robert could no longer guidehimself; he must go as he was carried. Then in an instant he was carriedinto a hell of waters where, had it not been for his lifebelt and theplank, he must have been beaten down and have perished. As it was, nowhe was driven into the depths, and now he emerged upon their surface tohear their seething hiss around him, and above it all a continuous boomas of great guns--the boom of the breaking seas. 

The plank was almost twisted from his grasp, but he clung to itdesperately, although its edges tore his arms. When the rollers brokeover him he held his breath, and when he was tossed skywards on theircurves, drew it again in quick, sweet gasps. Now he sat upon the verybrow of one of them as a merman might; now he dived like a dolphin, and now, just as his senses were leaving him, his feet touched bottom. Another moment and Robert was being rolled along that bottom with aweight on him like the weight of mountains. The plank was rent from him, but his cork jacket brought him up. The backwash drew him with it intodeeper water, where he lay helpless and despairing, for he no longer hadany strength to struggle against his doom. 

Then it was that there came a mighty roller, bigger than any that he hadseen--such a one as on that coast the Kaffirs call "a father of waves. "It caught him in the embrace of its vast green curve. It bore himforward as though he were but a straw, far forward over the stretch ofcruel rocks. It broke in thunder, dashing him again upon the stonesand sand of the little river bar, rolling him along with its resistlessmight, till even that might was exhausted, and its foam began to returnseawards, sucking him with it. 

Robert's mind was almost gone, but enough of it remained to tell himthat if once more he was dragged into the deep water he must be lost. Asthe current haled him along he gripped at the bottom with his hands, and by the mercy of Heaven they closed on something. It may have beena tree-stump embedded there, or a rock--he never knew. At least, it wasfirm, and to it he hung despairingly. Would that rush never cease? Hislungs were bursting; he must let go! Oh! the foam was thinning; his headwas above it now; now it had departed, leaving him like a stranded fishupon the shingle. For half a minute or more he lay there gasping, thenlooked behind him to see another comber approaching through thegloom. He struggled to his feet, fell, rose again, and ran, or rather, staggered forward with that tigerish water hissing at his heels. Forward, still forward, till he was beyond its reach--yes, on drysand. Then his vital forces failed him; one of his legs gave way, and, bleeding from a hundred hurts, he fell heavily onto his face, and therewas still. 

The boat in which Benita lay, being so deep in the water, provedvery hard to row against the tide, for the number of its passengersencumbered the oarsmen. After a while a light off land breeze sprangup, as here it often does towards morning; and the officer, Thompson, determined to risk hoisting the sail. Accordingly this was done--withsome difficulty, for the mast had to be drawn out and shipped--althoughthe women screamed as the weight of the air bent their frail craft overtill the gunwale was almost level with the water. 

"Anyone who moves shall be thrown overboard!" said the officer, whosteered, after which they were quiet. 

Now they made good progress seawards, but the anxieties of those whoknew were very great, since the wind showed signs of rising, and if anyswell should spring up that crowded cutter could scarcely hope to live. In fact, two hours later they were forced to lower the sail again anddrift, waiting for the dawn. Mr. Thompson strove to cheer them, sayingthat now they were in the track of vessels, and if they could see nonewhen the light came, he would run along the shore in the hope of findinga place free of breakers where they might land. If they did not inspirehope, at least his words calmed them, and they sat in heavy silence, watching the sky. 

At length it grew grey, and then, with a sudden glory peculiar to SouthAfrica, the great red sun arose and began to dispel the mist from thesurface of the sea. Half an hour more and this was gone, and now thebright rays brought life back into their chilled frames as they staredat each other to see which of their company were still left alive. Theyeven asked for food, and biscuit was given to them with water. 

All this while Benita remained unconscious. Indeed, one callous fellow, who had been using her body as a footstool, said that she must be dead, and had better be thrown overboard, as it would lighten the boat. 

"If you throw that lady into the sea, living or dead, " said Mr. Thompson, with an ominous lift of his eye, "you go with her, Mr. Batten. Remember who brought her here and how he died. "

Then Mr. Batten held his peace, while Thompson stood up and scanned thewide expanse of sea. Presently he whispered to a sailor near him, whoalso stood up, looked, and nodded. 

"That will be the other Line's intermediate boat, " he said, and thepassengers, craning their heads round, saw far away to the right astreak of smoke upon the horizon. Orders were given, a little corner ofsail was hoisted, with a white cloth of some sort tied above it, and theoars were got out. Once more the cutter moved forward, bearing to theleft in the hope of intercepting the steamer. 

She came on with terrible swiftness, and they who had miles of water tocover, dared hoist no more sail in that breeze. In half an hour she wasnearly opposite to them, and they were still far away. A little moresail was let out, driving them through the water at as quick a rateas they could venture to go. The steamer was passing three miles or soaway, and black despair took hold of them. Now the resourceful Thompson, without apologies, undressed, and removing the white shirt that he hadworn at the dance, bade a sailor to tie it to an oar and wave it to andfro. 

Still the steamer went on, until presently they heard her siren going, and saw that she was putting about. 

"She has seen us, " said Thompson. "Thank God, all of you, for there iswind coming up. Pull down that sail; we shan't need it any more. "

Half an hour later, with many precautions, for the wind he prophesiedwas already troubling the sea and sending little splashes of water overthe stern of their deeply laden boat, they were fast to a line thrownfrom the deck of the three thousand ton steamer _Castle_, bound forNatal. Then, with a rattle, down came the accommodation ladder, andstrong-armed men, standing on its grating, dragged them one by one fromthe death to which they had been so near. The last to be lifted up, except Thompson, was Benita, round whom it was necessary to reeve arope. 

"Any use?" asked the officer on the grating as he glanced at her quietform. 

"Can't say; I hope so, " answered Thompson. "Call your doctor. " Andgently enough she was borne up the ship's side. 

They wanted to cast off the boat, but Thompson remonstrated, and in theend that also was dragged to deck. Meanwhile the news had spread, and the awakened passengers of the _Castle_, clad in pyjamas, dressing-gowns, and even blankets, were crowding round the poorcastaways or helping them to their cabins. 

"I am a teetotaller, " said second officer Thompson when he had made abrief report to the captain of the _Castle_, "but if anyone will standme a whiskey and soda I shall be obliged to him. "

IV

MR. CLIFFORD

Although the shock of the blow she had received upon her head wassufficient to make her insensible for so many hours, Benita's injurieswere not of a really serious nature, for as it happened the fallingblock, or whatever it may have been, had hit her forehead slantwise, andnot full, to which accident she owed it that, although the skin wastorn and the scalp bruised, her skull had escaped fracture. Under propermedical care her senses soon came back to her, but as she was quitedazed and thought herself still on board the _Zanzibar_, the doctorconsidered it wise to preserve her in that illusion for a while. Soafter she had swallowed some broth he gave her a sleeping draught, theeffects of which she did not shake off till the following morning. 

Then she came to herself completely, and was astonished to feel the painin her head, which had been bandaged, and to see a strange stewardesssitting by her with a cup of beef-tea in her hand. 

"Where am I? Is it a dream?" she asked. 

"Drink this and I will tell you, " answered the stewardess. 

Benita obeyed, for she felt hungry, then repeated her question. 

"Your steamer was shipwrecked, " said the stewardess, "and a great manypoor people were drowned, but you were saved in a boat. Look, there areyour clothes; they were never in the water. "

"Who carried me into the boat?" asked Benita in a low voice. 

"A gentleman, they say, Miss, who had wrapped you in a blanket and put alifebelt on you. "

Now Benita remembered everything that happened before the darknessfell--the question to which she had given no answer, the young couplewho stood flirting by her--all came back to her. 

"Was Mr. Seymour saved?" she whispered, her face grey with dread. 

"I dare say, Miss, " answered the stewardess evasively. "But there is nogentleman of that name aboard this ship. "

At that moment the doctor came in, and him, too, she plied withquestions. But having learned the story of Robert's self-sacrifice fromMr. Thompson and the others, he would give her no answer, for he guessedhow matters had stood between them, and feared the effects of the shock. All he could say was that he hoped Mr. Seymour had escaped in some otherboat. 

It was not until the third morning that Benita was allowed to learnthe truth, which indeed it was impossible to conceal any longer. Mr. Thompson came to her cabin and told her everything, while she listenedsilently, horrified, amazed. 

"Miss Clifford, " he said, "I think it was one of the bravest things thata man ever did. On the ship I always thought him rather a head-in-airkind of swell, but he was a splendid fellow, and I pray God that he haslived, as the lady and child for whom he offered himself up have done, for they are both well again. "

"Yes, " she repeated after him mechanically, "splendid fellow indeed, and, " she added, with a strange flash of conviction, "I believe that he_is_ still alive. If he were dead I should know it. "

"I am glad to hear you say so, " said Mr. Thompson, who believed theexact contrary. 

"Listen, " she went on. "I will tell you something. When that dreadfulaccident occurred Mr. Seymour had just asked me to marry him, and I wasgoing to answer that I would--because I love him. I believe that I shallstill give him that answer. "

Mr. Thompson replied again that he hoped so, which, being as honest andtender-hearted as he was brave and capable, he did most earnestly; butin his heart he reflected that her answer would not be given this sideof the grave. Then, as he had been deputed to do, he handed her the notewhich had been found in the bosom of her dress, and, able to bear nomore of this painful scene, hurried from the cabin. She read it greedilytwice, and pressed it to her lips, murmuring:

"Yes, I will think kindly of you, Robert Seymour, kindly as woman can ofman, and now or afterwards you shall have your answer, if you still wishfor it. Whenever you come or wherever I go, it shall be ready for you. "

That afternoon, when she was more composed, Mrs. Jeffreys came to seeBenita, bringing her baby with her. The poor woman was still pale andshaken, but the child had taken no hurt at all from its immersion inthat warm water. 

"What can you think of me?" she said, falling on her knees by Benita. "But oh! I did not know what I was doing. It was terror and my child, "and she kissed the sleeping infant passionately. "Also I did notunderstand at the time--I was too dazed. And--that hero--he gave hislife for me when the others wished to beat me off with oars. Yes, hisblood is upon my hands--he who died that I and my child might live. "

Benita looked at her and answered, very gently:

"Perhaps he did not die after all. Do not grieve, for if he did it was avery glorious death, and I am prouder of him than I could have beenhad he lived on like the others--who wished to beat you off with oars. Whatever is, is by God's Will, and doubtless for the best. At the least, you and your child will be restored to your husband, though it cost meone who would have been--my husband. "

That evening Benita came upon the deck and spoke with the other ladieswho were saved, learning every detail that she could gather. But to noneof the men, except to Mr. Thompson, would she say a single word, andsoon, seeing how the matter stood, they hid themselves away from her asthey had already done from Mrs. Jeffreys. 

The _Castle_ had hung about the scene of the shipwreck for thirty hours, and rescued one other boatload of survivors, also a stoker clinging toa piece of wreckage. But with the shore she had been unable tocommunicate, for the dreaded wind had risen, and the breakers were quiteimpassable to any boat. To a passing steamer bound for Port Elizabeth, however, she had reported the terrible disaster, which by now was knownall over the world, together with the names of those whom she had pickedup in the boats. 

On the night of the day of Benita's interview with Mrs. Jeffreys, the_Castle_ arrived off Durban and anchored, since she was too big a vesselto cross the bar as it was in those days. At dawn the stewardess awokeBenita from the uneasy sleep in which she lay, to tell her that an oldgentleman had come off in the tug and wished to see her; for fear ofexciting false hopes she was very careful to add that word "old. " Withher help Benita dressed herself, and as the sun rose, flooding theBerea, the Point, the white town and fair Natal beyond with light, shewent on to the deck, and there, leaning over the bulwark, saw a thin, grey-bearded man of whom after all these years the aspect was stillfamiliar. 

A curious thrill went through her as she looked at him leaning therelost in thought. After all, he was her father, the man to whom she owedher presence upon this bitter earth, this place of terrors and delights, of devastation and hope supernal. Perhaps, too, he had been as muchsinned against as sinning. She stepped up to him and touched him on theshoulder. 

"Father, " she said. 

He turned round with all the quickness of a young man, for about himthere was a peculiar agility which his daughter had inherited. Like hismind, his body was still nimble. 

"My darling, " he said, "I should have known your voice anywhere. It hashaunted my sleep for years. My darling, thank you for coming back to me, and thank God for preserving you when so many were lost. " Then he threwhis arms about her and kissed her. 

She shrank from him a little, for by inadvertence he had pressed uponthe wound in her forehead. 

"Forgive me, " she said; "it is my head. It was injured, you know. "

Then he saw the bandage about her brow, and was very penitent. 

"They did not tell me that you had been hurt, Benita, " he exclaimed inhis light, refined voice, one of the stamps of that gentility of bloodand breeding whereof all his rough years and errors had been unable todeprive him. "They only told me that you were saved. It is part of myill-fortune that at our first moment of greeting I should give you pain, who have caused you so much already. "

Benita felt that the words were an apology for the past, and her heartwas touched. 

"It is nothing, " she answered. "You did not know or mean it. "

"No, dear, I never knew or meant it. Believe me, I was not a willingsinner, only a weak one. You are beautiful, Benita--far more so than Iexpected. "

"What, " she answered smiling, "with this bandage round my head? Well, in your eyes, perhaps. " But inwardly she thought to herself that thedescription would be more applicable to her father, who in truth, notwithstanding his years, was wonderfully handsome, with his quick blueeyes, mobile face, gentle mouth with the wistful droop at the corners solike her own, and grey beard. How, she wondered, could this be the manwho had struck her mother. Then she remembered him as he had been yearsbefore when he was a slave to liquor, and knew that the answer wassimple. 

"Tell me about your escape, love, " he said, patting her hand with histhin fingers. "You don't know what I've suffered. I was waiting atthe Royal Hotel here, when the cable came announcing the loss of the_Zanzibar_ and all on board. For the first time for many a year I drankspirits to drown my grief--don't be afraid, dear--for the first time andthe last. Then afterwards came another cable giving the names of thosewho were known to be saved, and--thank God, oh! thank God--yours amongthem, " and he gasped at the recollection of that relief. 

"Yes, " she said; "I suppose I should thank--Him--and another. Have youheard the story about--how Mr. Seymour saved me, I mean?"

"Some of it. While you were dressing yourself, I have been talking tothe officer who was in command of your boat. He was a brave man, Benita, and I am sorry to tell you he is gone. "

She grasped a stanchion and clung there, staring at him with a wild, white face. 

"How do you know that, Father?"

Mr. Clifford drew a copy of the _Natal Mercury_ of the previous day fromthe pocket of his ulster, and while she waited in an agony he huntedthrough the long columns descriptive of the loss of the _Zanzibar_. Presently he came to the paragraph he sought, and read it aloud to her. It ran:

"The searchers on the coast opposite the scene of the shipwreck reportthat they met a Kaffir who was travelling along the seashore, whoproduced a gold watch which he said he had taken from the body of awhite man that he found lying on the sand at the mouth of the UmvoliRiver. Inside the watch is engraved, 'To Seymour Robert Seymour, fromhis uncle, on his twenty-first birthday. ' The name of Mr. Seymourappears as a first-class passenger to Durban by the _Zanzibar_. He wasa member of an old English family in Lincolnshire. This was his secondjourney to South Africa, which he visited some years ago with hisbrother on a big-game shooting expedition. All who knew him then willjoin with us in deploring his loss. Mr. Seymour was a noted shot andan English gentleman of the best stamp. He was last seen by one of thesurvivors of the catastrophe, carrying Miss Clifford, the daughter ofthe well-known Natal pioneer of that name, into a boat, but as thisyoung lady is reported to have been saved, and as he entered the boatwith her, no explanation is yet forthcoming as to how he came to his sadend. "

"I fear that is clear enough, " said Mr. Clifford, as he folded up hispaper. 

"Yes, clear enough, " she repeated in a strained voice. "Andyet--yet--oh! Father, he had just asked me to marry him, and I can'tbelieve that he is dead before I had time to answer. "

"Good Heavens!" said the old man, "they never told me that. It isdreadfully sad. God help you, my poor child! There is nothing more tosay except that he was only one among three hundred who have gone withhim. Be brave now, before all these people. Look--here comes the tug. "

The following week was very much of a blank to Benita. When they reachedshore some old friends of her father's took her and him to their house, a quiet place upon the Berea. Here, now that the first excitement ofrescue and grief was over, the inevitable reaction set in, bringing withit weakness so distressing that the doctor insisted upon her going tobed, where she remained for the next five days. With the healing up ofthe wound in her head her strength came back to her at last, but itwas a very sad Benita who crept from her room one afternoon on to theverandah and looked out at the cruel sea, peaceful now as the sky above. 

Her father, who had nursed her tenderly during these dark days, came andsat by her, taking her hand in his. 

"This is capital, " he said, glancing at her anxiously. "You are gettingquite yourself again. "

"I shall never be myself again, " she answered. "My old self is dead, although the outside of me has recovered. Father, I suppose that it iswrong, but I wish that I were dead too. I wish that he had taken me withhim when he jumped into the sea to lighten the boat. "

"Don't speak like that, " he broke in hastily. "Of course I know that Iam not much to you--how can I be after all that is past? But I love you, dear, and if I were left quite alone again----" And he broke off. 

"You shall not be left alone if I can help it, " she replied, looking atthe old man with her dark and tender eyes. "We have only each other inthe world now, have we? The rest have gone, never to return. "

He threw his arms about her, and, drawing her to him, kissed herpassionately. 

"If only you could learn to love me!" he said. 

"I do love you, " she answered, "who now shall never love any other manupon the earth. "

This was the beginning of a deep affection which sprang up between Mr. Clifford and his daughter, and continued to the end. 

"Is there any news?" she asked a little later. 

"None--none about him. The tide took his body away, no doubt, after theKaffir had gone. I remember him well now. He was a fine young man, andit comes into my mind that when I said good-bye to him above those oldruins, I wished that I had a son like that. And to think that he wentso near to becoming a son to me! Well, the grass must bend when the windblows, as the natives say. "

"I am glad that you knew him, " she answered simply. 

Then they began talking about other matters. He told her that all thestory had become known, and that people spoke of Robert Seymour as "thehero"; also that there was a great deal of curiosity about her. 

"Then let us get away as soon as we can, " she said nervously. "But, Father, where are we going?"

"That will be for you to decide, love. Listen, now; this is my position. I have been quite steady for years, and worked hard, with the resultthat I and my partner have a fine farm in the Transvaal, on the highland near Lake Chrissie, out Wakkerstroom way. We breed horses there, and have done very well with them. I have £1, 500 saved, and the farmbrings us in quite £600 a year beyond the expenses. But it is a lonelyplace, with only a few Boers about, although they are good fellowsenough. You might not care to live there with no company. "

"I don't think that I should mind, " she answered, smiling. 

"Not now, but by-and-by you would when you know what it is like. Now Imight sell my share in the farm to my partner, who, I think, would buyit, or I might trust to him to send me a part of the profits, whichperhaps he would not. Then, if you wish it, we could live in or nearone of the towns, or even, as you have an income of your own, go home toEngland, if that is your will. "

"Is it your will?" she asked. 

He shook his head. "No; all my life is here. Also, I have something tofind before I die--for your sake, dear. "

"Do you mean up among those ruins?" she asked, looking at him curiously. 

"Yes. So you know about it?" he answered, with a flash of his blue eyes. "Oh! of course, Seymour told you. Yes, I mean among the ruins--but Iwill tell you that story another time--not here, not here. What do youwish to do, Benita? Remember, I am in your hands; I will obey you in allthings. "

"Not to stop in a town and not to go to England, " she replied, while hehung eagerly upon her words, "for this has become my holy land. Father, I will go with you to your farm; there I can be quiet, you and Itogether. "

"Yes, " he answered rather uneasily; "but, you see, Benita, we shall notbe quite alone there. My partner, Jacob Meyer, lives with me. "

"Jacob Meyer? Ah! I remember, " and she winced. "He is a German, is henot--and odd?"

"German Jew, I imagine, and very odd. Should have made his fortune adozen times over, and yet has never done anything. Too unpractical, toovisionary, with all his brains and scheming. Not a good man, Benita, although he suits me, and, for the matter of that, under our agreement Icannot get rid of him. "

"How did he become your partner?" she asked. 

"Oh! a good many years ago he turned up at the place with a dolefulstory. Said that he had been trading among the Zulus; he was what wecall a 'smouse' out here, and got into a row with them, I don'tknow how. The end of it was that they burned his waggon, looted histrade-goods and oxen, and killed his servants. They would have killedhim too, only, according to his own account, he escaped in a very queerfashion. "

"How?"

"Well, he says by mesmerising the chief and making the man lead himthrough his followers. An odd story enough, but I can quite believeit of Jacob. He worked for me for six months, and showed himself veryclever. Then one night, I remember it was a few days after I had toldhim of the story of the Portuguese treasure in Matabeleland, he produced£500 in Bank of England notes out of the lining of his waistcoat, andoffered to buy a half interest in the farm. Yes, £500! Although forall those months I had believed him to be a beggar. Well, as he was so_slim_, and better than no company in that lonely place, in the end Iaccepted. We have done well since, except for the expedition after thetreasure which we did not get, although we more than paid our expensesout of the ivory we bought. But next time we shall succeed, I am sure, "he added with enthusiasm, "that is, if we can persuade those Makalangato let us search on the mountain. "

Benita smiled. 

"I think you had better stick to the horsebreeding, " she said. 

"You shall judge when you hear the story. But you have been brought upin England; will you not be afraid to go to Lake Chrissie?"

"Afraid of what?" she asked. 

"Oh! of the loneliness, and of Jacob Meyer. "

"I was born on the veld, Father, and I have always hated London. As foryour odd friend, Mr. Meyer, I am not afraid of any man on earth. I havedone with men. At the least I will try the place and see how I get on. "

"Very well, " answered her father with a sigh of relief. "You can alwayscome back, can't you?"

"Yes, " she said indifferently. "I suppose that I can always come back. "

V

JACOB MEYER

More than three weeks had gone by when one morning Benita, who sleptupon the cartel or hide-strung bed in the waggon, having dressed herselfas best she could in that confined place, thrust aside the curtain andseated herself upon the voorkisse, or driving-box. The sun was not yetup, and the air was cold with frost, for they were on the Transvaalhigh-veld at the end of winter. Even through her thick cloak Benitashivered and called to the driver of the waggon, who also acted as cook, and whose blanket-draped form she could see bending over a fire intowhich he was blowing life, to make haste with the coffee. 

"By and by, Missie--by and by, " he answered, coughing the rank smokefrom his lungs. "Kettle no sing yet, and fire black as hell. "

Benita reflected that popular report painted this locality red, butwithout entering into argument sat still upon the chest waiting till thewater boiled and her father appeared. 

Presently he emerged from under the side flap of the waggon where heslept, and remarking that it was really too cold to think of washing, climbed to her side by help of the disselboom, and kissed her. 

"How far are we now from Rooi Krantz, Father?" she asked, for that wasthe name of Mr. Clifford's farm. 

"About forty miles, dear. The waggon cannot make it to-night with thesetwo sick oxen, but after the midday outspan we will ride on, and bethere by sundown. I am afraid you are tired of this trekking. "

"No, " she answered. "I like it very much; it is so restful, and I sleepsound upon that cartel. I feel as though I should like to trek on forthe rest of my life. "

"So you shall if you wish, dear, for whole months. South Africa is big, and when the grass grows, if you still wish it, we will take a longjourney. "

She smiled, but made no answer, knowing that he was thinking of theplace so far away where he believed that once the Portuguese had buriedgold. 

The kettle was singing now merrily enough, and Hans, the cook, liftingit from the fire in triumph--for his blowing exertions had beensevere--poured into it a quantity of ground coffee from an old mustardtin. Then, having stirred the mixture with a stick, he took a redember from the fire and dropped it into the kettle, a process which, astravellers in the veld know well, has a clearing effect upon the coffee. Next he produced pannikins, and handed them up with a pickle jar fullof sugar to Mr. Clifford, upon the waggon chest. Milk they had none, yetthat coffee tasted a great deal better than it looked; indeed, Benitadrank two cups of it to warm herself and wash down the hard biscuit. Before the day was over glad enough was she that she had done so. 

The sun was rising; huge and red it looked seen through the clingingmist, and, their breakfast finished, Mr. Clifford gave orders that theoxen, which were filling themselves with the dry grass near at hand, should be got up and inspanned. The voorlooper, a Zulu boy, who had leftthem for a little while to share the rest of the coffee with Hans, rosefrom his haunches with a grunt, and departed to fetch them. A minute ortwo later Hans ceased from his occupation of packing up the things, andsaid in a low voice:

"_Kek!_ Baas"--that is "Look!"

Following the line of his outstretched hand, Benita and her fatherperceived, not more than a hundred yards away from them, a great troopof wilderbeeste, or gnu, travelling along a ridge, and pausing now andagain to indulge in those extraordinary gambols which cause the Boers todeclare that these brutes have a worm in their brains. 

"Give me my rifle, Hans, " said Mr. Clifford. "We want meat. "

By the time that the Westley-Richards was drawn from its case andloaded, only one buck remained, for, having caught sight of the waggon, it turned to stare at it suspiciously. Mr. Clifford aimed and fired. Down went the buck, then springing to its feet again, vanished behindthe ridge. Mr. Clifford shook his head sadly. 

"I don't often do that sort of thing, my dear, but the light is stillvery bad. Still, he's hit. What do you say? Shall we get on the horsesand catch him? A canter would warm you. "

Benita, who was tender-hearted, reflected that it would be kinder toput the poor creature out of its pain, and nodded her head. Five minuteslater they were cantering together up the rise, Mr. Clifford havingfirst ordered the waggon to trek on till they rejoined it, and slipped apacket of cartridges into his pocket. Beyond the rise lay a wide stretchof marshy ground, bordered by another rise half a mile or more away, from the crest of which--for now the air was clear enough--they saw thewounded bull standing. On they went after him, but before they couldcome within shot, he had moved forward once more, for he was onlylightly hurt in the flank, and guessed whence his trouble came. 

Again and again did he retreat as they drew near, until at length, justas Mr. Clifford was about to dismount to risk a long shot, the beasttook to its heels in earnest. 

"Come on, " he said; "don't let's be beat, " for by this time the hunterwas alive in him. 

So off they went at a gallop, up slopes and down slopes that remindedBenita of the Bay of Biscay in a storm, across half-dried vleis that inthe wet season were ponds, through stony ground and patches of ant-bearholes in which they nearly came to grief. For five miles at least thechase went on, since at the end of winter the wilderbeeste was thin andcould gallop well, notwithstanding its injury, faster even than theirgood horses. At last, rising a ridge, they found whither it was going, for suddenly they were in the midst of vast herds of game, thousands andtens of thousands of them stretching as far as the eye could reach. 

It was a wondrous sight that now, alas! will be seen no more--at anyrate upon the Transvaal veld; wilderbeeste, blesbok, springbok, incountless multitudes, and amongst them a few quagga and hartebeeste. With a sound like that of thunder, their flashing myriad hoofs castingup clouds of dust from the fire-blackened veld, the great herdsseparated at the appearance of their enemy, man. This way and that theywent in groups and long brown lines, leaving the wounded and exhaustedwilderbeeste behind them, so that presently he was the sole tenant ofthat great cup of land. 

At him they rode till Mr. Clifford, who was a little ahead of hisdaughter, drew almost alongside. Then the poor maddened brute tried itslast shift. Stopping suddenly, it wheeled round and charged head down. Mr. Clifford, as it came, held out his rifle in his right hand and firedat a hazard. The bullet passed through the bull, but could not stop itscharge. Its horns, held low, struck the forelegs of the horse, and nextinstant horse, man, and wilderbeeste rolled on the veld together. 

Benita, who was fifty yards behind, uttered a little cry of fear, butbefore ever she reached him, her father had risen laughing, for he wasquite unhurt. The horse, too, was getting up, but the bull could riseno more. It struggled to its forefeet, uttered a kind of sobbing groan, stared round wildly, and rolled over, dead. 

"I never knew a wilderbeeste charge like that before, " said Mr. Clifford. "Confound it! I believe my horse is lamed. "

Lamed it was, indeed, where the bull had struck the foreleg, though, as it chanced, not badly. Having tied a handkerchief to the horn of thebuck in order to scare away the vultures, and thrown some tufts of drygrass upon its body, which he proposed, if possible, to fetch or sendfor, Mr. Clifford mounted his lame horse and headed for the waggon. Butthey had galloped farther than they thought, and it was midday beforethey came to what they took to be the road. As there was no spoor uponit, they followed this track backwards, expecting to find the waggonoutspanned, but although they rode for mile upon mile, no waggon couldthey see. Then, realizing their mistake, they retraced their steps, andleaving this path at the spot where they had found it, struck off againto the right. 

Meanwhile, the sky was darkening, and at about three o'clock in theafternoon a thunderstorm broke over them accompanied by torrents of icyrain, the first fall of the spring, and a bitter wind which chilled themthrough. More, after the heavy rain came drizzle and a thick mist thatdeepened as evening approached. 

Now their plight was very wretched. Lost, starved, soaked to the skin, with tired horses one of which was lame, they wandered about on thelonely veld. Only one stroke of fortune came to them. As the sun set, for a few moments its rays pierced the mist, telling them in whatdirection they should go. Turning their horses, they headed for it, and so rode on until the darkness fell. Then they halted a while, but feeling that if they stood still in that horrible cold they wouldcertainly perish before morning, once more pushed on again. By now Mr. Clifford's horse was almost too lame to ride, so he led it, walkingat his daughter's side, and reproaching himself bitterly for hisfoolishness in having brought her into this trouble. 

"It doesn't matter, Father, " she answered wearily, for she was verytired. "Nothing matters; one may as well die upon the veld as in the seaor anywhere else. "

On they plodded, they knew not whither. Benita fell asleep upon hersaddle, and was awakened once by a hyena howling quite close to them, and once by her horse falling to its knees. 

"What is the time?" she said at last. 

Her father struck a match and looked at his watch. It was ten o'clock;they had been fifteen hours away from the waggon and without food. Atintervals Mr. Clifford, who had remounted, fired his rifle. Now therewas but one cartridge left, and having caught sight of his daughter'sexhausted face by the light of the match, he fired this also, though inthat desperate wilderness there was little hope of its bringing succour. 

"Shall we stop or go on?" he asked. 

"I do not care, " she answered. "Only if I stop I think it will be forever. Let us go on. "

Now the rain had ceased, but the mist was as dense as before. Alsothey seemed to have got among bush, for wet leaves brushed their faces. Utterly exhausted they stumbled forward, till suddenly Benita felt herhorse stop as though a hand had seized its bridle, and heard a man'svoice, speaking with a foreign accent, say:

"Mein Gott! Where are you going?"

"I wish I knew, " she answered, like one in a dream. 

At this instant the moon rose above the mists, and Benita saw JacobMeyer for the first time. 

In that light his appearance was not unpleasing. A man of about fortyyears of age, not over tall, slight and active in build, with a pointedblack beard, regular, Semitic features, a complexion of an ivory pallorwhich even the African sun did not seem to tan, and dark, lustrous eyesthat appeared, now to sleep, and now to catch the fire of the thoughtswithin. Yet, weary though she was, there was something in the man'spersonality which repelled and alarmed Benita, something wild and cruel. She felt that he was filled with unsatisfied ambitions and desires, andthat to attain to them he would shrink at nothing. In a moment he wasspeaking again in tones that compelled her attention. 

"It was a good thought that brought me here to look for you. No; not athought--what do you call it?--an instinct. I think your mind must havespoken to my mind, and called me to save you. See now, Clifford, myfriend, where you have led your daughter. See, see!" And he pointeddownwards. 

They leaned forward and stared. There, immediately beneath them, was amighty gulf whereof the moonlight did not reveal the bottom. 

"You are no good veld traveller, Clifford, my friend; one more step ofthose silly beasts, and down below there would have been two red heapswith bits of bones sticking out of them--yes, there on the rocks fivehundred feet beneath. Ah! you would have slept soundly to-night, both ofyou. "

"Where is the place?" asked Mr. Clifford in a dazed fashion. "Leopard'sKloof?"

"Yes; Leopard's Kloof, no other. You have travelled along the top of thehill, not at the bottom. Certainly that was a good thought which came tome from the lady your daughter, for she is one of the thought senders, Iam sure. Ah! it came to me suddenly; it hit me like a stick whilst I wassearching for you, having found that you had lost the waggon. It said tome, 'Ride to the top of Leopard's Kloof. Ride hard. ' I rode hard throughthe rocks and the darkness, through the mist and the rain, and not oneminute had I been here when you came and I caught the lady's bridle. "

"I am sure we are very grateful to you, " murmured Benita. 

"Then I am paid back ten thousand times. No; it is I who am grateful--Iwho have saved your life through the thought you sent me. "

"Thought or no thought, all's well that ends well, " broke in Mr. Clifford impatiently. "And thank Heaven we are not more than three milesaway from home. Will you lead the way, Jacob? You always could see inthe dark?"

"Yes, yes, " and he took hold of Benita's bridle with his firm, whitehand. "Oh! my horse will follow, or put your arm through his rein--so. Now come on, Miss Clifford, and be afraid no more. With Jacob Meyer youare safe. "

So they began their descent of the hill. Meyer did not speak again;all his attention seemed to be concentrated upon finding a safe path onwhich the horses would not stumble. Nor did Benita speak; she wastoo utterly exhausted--so exhausted, indeed, that she could no longercontrol her mind and imagination. These seemed to loose themselves fromher and to acquire new powers, notably that of entering into the secretthoughts of the man at her side. She saw them pass before her likeliving things, and yet she could not read them. Still, something she didunderstand--that she had suddenly grown important to this man, not inthe way in which women are generally important to men, but otherwise. She felt as though she had become interwoven with the objects of hislife, and was henceforth necessary to their fulfilment, as though shewere someone whom he had been seeking for years on years, the one personwho could give him light in his darkness. 

These imaginings troubled her, so that she was very thankful when theypassed away as swiftly as they had arisen, and she knew only that shewas half dead with weariness and cold; that her limbs ached and that thesteep path seemed endless. 

At length they reached level ground, and after travelling along it fora while and crossing the bed of a stream, passed through a gate, andstopped suddenly at the door of a house with lighted windows. 

"Here is your home at last, Miss Clifford, " said the musical voice ofJacob Meyer, "and I thank the Fate which rules us that it has taught meto bring you to it safely. "

Making no answer she slid from the saddle, only to find that she couldnot stand, for she sank into a heap upon the ground. With a gentleexclamation he lifted her, and calling to two Kaffirs who had appearedto take the horses, led her into the house. 

"You must go to bed at once, " he said, conducting her to a door whichopened out of the sitting-room. "I have had a fire lit in your chamberin case you should come, and old Tante Sally will bring you soup withbrandy in it, and hot water for your feet. Ah! there you are, old vrouw. Come now; help the lady, your mistress. Is all ready?"

"All, Baas, " answered the woman, a stout half-breed with a kindly face. "Come now, my little one, and I will undress you. "

Half an hour later Benita, having drunk more brandy than ever she haddone in her life before, was wrapped up and fast asleep. 

When she awoke the sun was streaming through the curtained window of herroom, and by the light of it she saw that the clock which stood upon themantelpiece pointed to half-past eleven. She had slept for nearly twelvehours, and felt that, notwithstanding the cold and exposure, save forstiffness and a certain numb feeling in her head--the result, perhaps, of the unaccustomed brandy--she was well and, what was more, quitehungry. 

Outside on the verandah she heard the voice of Jacob Meyer, with whichshe seemed already to have become familiar, telling some natives to stopsinging, as they would wake the chieftainess inside. He used theZulu word Inkosi-kaas, which, she remembered, meant head-lady orchieftainess. He was very thoughtful for her, she reflected, and wasgrateful, till suddenly she remembered the dislike she had taken to theman. 

Then she looked round her room and saw that it was very pretty, wellfurnished and papered, with water-colour pictures on the walls of nomean merit, things that she had not expected in this far-off place. Alsoon a table stood a great bowl of arum lilies. She wondered who had putthem there; whether it were the old half-breed, Sally, or Jacob Meyer. Also she wondered who had painted the pictures, which were all ofAfrican scenery, and something told her that both the flowers and thepictures came from Jacob Meyer. 

On the little table by her bed was a handbell, which presently she rang. Instantly she heard the voice of Sally calling for the coffee "quick, "and next minute the woman entered, bringing a tray with it, and breadand butter--yes, and toast and eggs, which had evidently been made readyfor her. Speaking in English mixed with Dutch words, she told Benitathat her father was still in bed, but sent her his love, and wished toknow how she did. Then, while she ate her breakfast with appetite, Sallyset her a bath, and subsequently appeared carrying the contents of thebox she had used upon the waggon, which had now arrived safely at thefarm. Benita asked who had ordered the box to be unpacked, and Sallyanswered that the Heer Meyer had ordered it so that she might not bedisturbed in her sleep, and that her things should be ready for her whenshe woke. 

"The Heer Meyer thinks a great deal about other people, " said Benita. 

"Ja, ja!" answered the old half-breed. "He tink much about people whenhe want to tink about them, but he tink most about himself. Baas Meyer, he a very clever man--oh! a very clever man, who want to be a great mantoo. And one day, Missee, he be a great man, great and rich--if the HeerGod Almighty let him. "

VI

THE GOLD COIN

Six weeks had gone by since the eventful evening of Benita's arrival atRooi Krantz. Now the spring had fully come, the veld was emerald withgrass and bright with flowers. In the kloof behind the house trees hadput out their leaves, and the mimosas were in bloom, making the airheavy with their scent. Amongst them the ringdoves nested in hundreds, and on the steep rocks of the precipice the red-necked vultures fedtheir young. Along the banks of the stream and round the borders ofthe lake the pig-lilies bloomed, a sheet of white. All the place wasbeautiful and full of life and hope. Nothing seemed dead and hopelessexcept Benita's heart. 

Her health had quite come back to her; indeed, never before had she feltso strong and well. But the very soul had withered in her breast. Allday she thought, and all night she dreamed of the man who, in coldblood, had offered up his life to save a helpless woman and her child. She wondered whether he would have done this if he had heard the answerthat was upon her lips. Perhaps that was why she had not been given timeto speak that answer, which might have made a coward of him. For nothingmore had been heard of Robert Seymour; indeed, already the tragedy ofthe ship _Zanzibar_ was forgotten. The dead had buried their dead, andsince then worse disasters had happened in the world. 

But Benita could not bury her dead. She rode about the veld, she satby the lake and watched the wild fowl, or at night heard them flightingover her in flocks. She listened to the cooing of the doves, the boomingof the bitterns in the reeds, and the drumming of the snipe high in air. She counted the game trekking along the ridge till her mind grew weary. She sought consolation from the breast of Nature and found none; shesought it in the starlit skies, and oh! they were very far away. Deathreigned within her who outwardly was so fair to see. 

In the society of her father, indeed, she took pleasure, for he lovedher, and love comforted her wounded heart. In that of Jacob Meyer alsoshe found interest, for now her first fear of the man had died away, and undoubtedly he was very interesting; well-bred also after a fashion, although a Jew who had lost his own faith and rejected that of theChristians. 

He told her that he was a German by birth, that he had been sent toEngland as a boy, to avoid the conscription, which Jews dislike, sincein soldiering there is little profit. Here he had become a clerk in ahouse of South African merchants, and, as a consequence--having shownall the ability of his race--was despatched to take charge of a branchbusiness in Cape Colony. What happened to him there Benita neverdiscovered, but probably he had shown too much ability of an obliquenature. At any rate, his connection with the firm terminated, and foryears he became a wandering "smouse, " or trader, until at length hedrifted into partnership with her father. 

Whatever might have been his past, however, soon she found that he wasan extremely able and agreeable man. It was he and no other who hadpainted the water-colours that adorned her room, and he could play andsing as well as he painted. Also, as Robert had told her, Mr. Meyer wasvery well-read in subjects that are not usually studied on the veldof South Africa; indeed, he had quite a library of books, most of themhistories or philosophical and scientific works, of which he would lendher volumes. Fiction, however, he never read, for the reason, he toldher, that he found life itself and the mysteries and problems whichsurround it so much more interesting. 

One evening, when they were walking together by the lake, watchingthe long lights of sunset break and quiver upon its surface, Benita'scuriosity overcame her, and she asked him boldly how it happened thatsuch a man as he was content to live the life he did. 

"In order that I may reach a better, " he answered. "Oh! no, not in theskies, Miss Clifford, for of them I know nothing, nor, as I believe, isthere anything to know. But here--here. "

"What do you mean by a better life, Mr. Meyer?"

"I mean, " he answered, with a flash of his dark eyes, "great wealth, and the power that wealth brings. Ah! I see you think me very sordid andmaterialistic, but money is God in this world, Miss Clifford--money isGod. "

She smiled and answered: "I fear, then, that he is likely to prove aninvisible god on the high veld, Mr. Meyer. You will scarcely make agreat fortune out of horse-breeding, and here there is no one to rule. "

"Do you suppose, then, that is why I stop at Rooi Krantz, just to breedhorses? Has not your father told you about the great treasure hiddenaway up there among the Makalanga?"

"I have heard something of it, " she answered with a sigh. "Also thatboth of you went to look for it and were disappointed. "

"Ah! The Englishman who was drowned--Mr. Seymour--he spoke of it, did henot? He found us there. "

"Yes; and you wished to shoot him--do you remember?"

"God in Heaven! Yes, because I thought he had come to rob us. Well, Idid not shoot, and afterwards we were hunted out of the place, whichdoes not much matter, as those fools of natives refused to let us dig inthe fortress. "

"Then why do you still think about this treasure which probably does notexist?"

"Why, Miss Clifford, do you think about various things that probablydo not exist? Perhaps because you feel that here or elsewhere they _do_exist. Well, that is what I feel about the treasure, and what I havealways felt. It exists, and I shall find it--now. I shall live to seemore gold than you can even imagine, and that is why I still continueto breed horses on the Transvaal veld. Ah! you laugh; you think it is anightmare that I breed----"

Then suddenly he became aware of Sally, who had appeared over the foldof the rise behind them, and asked irritably:

"What is it now, old vrouw?"

"The Baas Clifford wants to speak with you, Baas Jacob. Messengers havecome to you from far away. "

"What messengers?" he asked. 

"I know not, " answered Sally, fanning her fat face with a yellowpocket-handkerchief. "They are strange people to me, and thin withtravelling, but they talk a kind of Zulu. The Baas wishes you to come. "

"Will you come also, Miss Clifford? No? Then forgive me if I leave you, "and lifting his hat he went. 

"A strange man, Missee, " said old Sally, when he had vanished, walkingvery fast. 

"Yes, " answered Benita, in an indifferent voice. 

"A very strange man, " went on the old woman. "Too much in his kop, " andshe tapped her forehead. "I tink it will burst one day; but if it doesnot burst, then he will be great. I tell you that before, now I tell ityou again, for I tink his time come. Now I go cook dinner. "

Benita sat by the lake till the twilight fell, and the wild geese beganto flight over her. Then she walked back to the house thinking no moreof Heer Meyer, thinking only that she was weary of this place in whichthere was nothing to occupy her mind and distract it from its everpresent sorrow. 

At dinner, or rather supper, that night she noticed that both her fatherand his partner seemed to be suffering from suppressed excitement, ofwhich she thought she could guess the cause. 

"Did you find your messengers, Mr. Meyer?" she asked, when the men hadlit their pipes, and the square-face--as Hollands was called in thosedays, from the shape of the bottle--was set upon the rough table ofspeckled buchenhout wood. 

"Yes, I found them, " he answered; "they are in the kitchen now. " And helooked at Mr. Clifford. 

"Benita, my dear, " said her father, "rather a curious thing hashappened. " Her face lit up, but he shook his head. "No, nothing to dowith the shipwreck--that is all finished. Still, something that mayinterest you, if you care to hear a story. "

Benita nodded; she was in a mood to hear anything that would occupy herthoughts. 

"You know something about this treasure business, " went on her father. "Well, this is the tale of it. Years ago, after you and your motherhad gone to England, I went on a big game shooting expedition into theinterior. My companion was an old fellow called Tom Jackson, a rollingstone, and one of the best elephant hunters in Africa. We did prettywell, but the end of it was that we separated north of the Transvaal, Ibringing down the ivory that we had shot, and traded, and Tom stoppingto put in another season, the arrangement being that he was to join meafterwards, and take his share of the money. I came here and bought thisfarm from a Boer who was tired of it--cheap enough, too, for I only gavehim £100 for the 6, 000 acres. The kitchens behind were his old house, for I built a new one. 

"A year had gone by before I saw any more of Tom Jackson, and then heturned up more dead than alive. He had been injured by an elephant, andlay for some months among the Makalanga to the north of Matabeleland, where he got fever badly at a place called Bambatse, on the Zambesi. These Makalanga are a strange folk. I believe their name means thePeople of the Sun; at any rate, they are the last of some ancientrace. Well, while he was there he cured the old Molimo, or hereditaryhigh-priest of this tribe, of a bad fever by giving him quinine, andnaturally they grew friendly. The Molimo lived among ruins of whichthere are many over all that part of South Africa. No one knows whobuilt them now; probably it was people who lived thousands of years ago. However, this Molimo told Tom Jackson a more recent legend connectedwith the place. 

"He said that six generations before, when his great-great-greatgrandfather was chief (Mambo, he called it), the natives of allthat part of South Africa rose against the white men--Portuguese, Isuppose--who still worked the gold there. They massacred them and theirslaves by thousands, driving them up from the southward, where Lobengularules now, to the Zambesi by which the Portuguese hoped to escape to thecoast. At length a remnant of them, not more than about two hundred menand women, arrived at the stronghold called Bambatse, where the Molimonow lives in a great ruin built by the ancients upon an impregnablemountain which overhangs the river. With them they brought an enormousquantity of gold, all the stored-up treasure of the land which they weretrying to carry off. But although they reached the river they could notescape by it, since the natives, who pursued them in thousands, watchedday and night in canoes, and the poor fugitives had no boats. Thereforeit came about that they were shut up in this fortress which it wasimpossible to storm, and there slowly perished of starvation. 

"When it was known that they were all dead, the natives who had followedthem from the south, and who wanted blood and revenge, not gold, whichwas of no use to them, went away; but the old priest's forefather whoknew the secret entrance to the place, and who had been friendly tothe Portuguese, forced his way in and there, amidst the dead, foundone woman living, but mad with grief--a young and beautiful girl, thedaughter of the Portuguese lord or captain. He gave her food, but inthe night, when some strength had returned to her, she left him, andat daybreak he found her standing on the peak that overhangs the river, dressed all in white. 

"He called some of his councillors, and they tried to persuade her tocome down from the rock, but she answered, 'No, her betrothed and allher family and friends were dead, and it was her will to follow them. 'Then they asked where was the gold, for having watched day and nightthey knew it had not been thrown into the river. She answered that itwas where it was, and that, seek as he might, no black man would everfind it. She added that she gave it into his keeping, and that of hisdescendants, to safeguard until she came again. Also she said that ifthey were faithless to that trust, then it had been revealed to her fromheaven above that those same savages who had killed her father and herpeople, would kill his people also. When she had spoken thus she stood awhile praying on the peak, then suddenly hurled herself into the river, and was seen no more. 

"From that day to this the ruin has been held to be haunted, andsave the Molimo himself, who retires there to meditate and receiverevelations from the spirits, no one is allowed to set a foot inits upper part; indeed, the natives would rather die than do so. Consequently the gold still remains where it was hidden. This placeitself Tom Jackson did not see, since, notwithstanding his friendshipfor him, the Molimo refused to allow him to enter there. 

"Well, Tom never recovered; he died here, and is buried in the littlegraveyard behind the house which the Boers made for some of theirpeople. It was shortly before his death that Mr. Meyer became mypartner, for I forgot to say that I had told him the story, and wedetermined to have a try for that great wealth. You know the rest. Wetrekked to Bambatse, pretending to be traders, and found the old Molimowho knew of me as having been Tom Jackson's friend. We asked him if thestory he had told to Jackson were true, and he answered that, surely asthe sun shone in the heavens, it was true--every word of it--for it, and much more than he had spoken of, had been handed down from father toson, and that they even knew the name of the white lady who had killedherself. It was Ferreira--your mother's name, Benita, though a commonone enough in South Africa. 

"We asked him to allow us to enter the topmost stronghold, which standsupon the hill, but he refused, saying that the curse still lay uponhim and his, and that no man should enter until the lady Ferreira cameagain. For the rest the place was free to us; we might dig as we would. So we did dig, and found some gold buried with the ancients, beads andbangles and wire--about £100 worth. Also--that was on the day when theyoung Seymours came upon us, and accounts for Meyer's excitement, forhe thought that we were on the track of the treasure--we found a singlegold coin, no doubt one that had been dropped by the Portuguese. Here itis. " And he threw a thin piece of gold on the table before her. "I haveshown it to a man learned in those matters, and he says that it is aducat struck by one of the doges of Venice. 

"Well, we never found any more. The end of it was that the Makalangacaught us trying to get in to the secret stronghold by stealth, and gaveus the choice of clearing out or being killed. So we cleared out, fortreasure is not of much use to dead men. "

Mr. Clifford ceased speaking, and filled his pipe, while Meyer helpedhimself to squareface in an absent manner. As for Benita, she stared atthe quaint old coin, which had a hole in it, wondering with what scenesof terror and of bloodshed it had been connected. 

"Keep it, " said her father. "It will go on that bracelet of yours. "

"Thank you, dear, " she answered. "Though I don't know why I should takeall the Portuguese treasure since we shall never see any more of it. "

"Why not, Miss Clifford?" asked Meyer quickly. 

"The story tells you why--because the natives won't even let you lookfor it; also, looking and finding are different things. "

"Natives change their minds sometimes, Miss Clifford. That story isnot done, it is only begun, and now you shall hear its second chapter. Clifford, may I call in the messengers?" And without waiting for ananswer he rose and left the room. 

Neither Mr. Clifford nor his daughter said anything after he had gone. Benita appeared to occupy herself in fixing the broad gold coin to alittle swivel on her bracelet, but while she did so once more that sixthsense of hers awoke within her. As she had been afraid at the dinner onthe doomed steamer, so again she was afraid. Again death and great fearcast their advancing shadows on to her soul. That piece of gold seemedto speak to her, yet, alas! she could not understand its story. Only sheknew that her father and Jacob Meyer and--yes, yes, yes--Robert Seymour, had all a part in that tragedy. Oh! how could that be when he was dead?How could this gold link him to her? She knew not--she cared not. Allshe knew was that she would follow this treasure to the edge of theworld, and if need be, over it, if only it brought her back to himagain. 

VII

THE MESSENGERS

The door opened, and through it came Jacob Meyer, followed by threenatives. Benita did not see or hear them; her soul was far away. Thereat the head of the room, clad all in white, for she wore no mourningsave in her heart, illuminated by the rays of the lamp that hung aboveher, she stood still and upright, for she had risen; on the face andin her wide, dark eyes a look that was very strange to see. JacobMeyer perceived it and stopped; the three natives perceived it alsoand stopped. There they stood, all four of them, at the end of the longsitting-room, staring at the white Benita and at her haunted eyes. 

One of the natives pointed with his thin finger to her face, andwhispered to the others. Meyer, who understood their tongue, caught thewhisper. It was:

"Behold the Spirit of the Rock!"

"What spirit, and what rock?" he asked in a low voice. 

"She who haunts Bambatse; she whom our eyes have seen, " answered theman, still staring at Benita. 

Benita heard the whispering, and knew it was about herself, though notone word of it did she catch. With a sigh she shook herself free fromher visions and sat down in a chair close by. Then one by one themessengers drew near to her, and each, as he came, made a profoundobeisance, touching the floor with his finger-tips, and staring at herface. But her father they only saluted with an uplifted hand. She lookedat them with interest, and indeed they were interesting in their way;tall, spare men, light coloured, with refined, mobile faces. Here was nonegro-blood, but rather that of some ancient people such as Egyptians orPhoenicians: men whose forefathers had been wise and civilized thousandsof years ago, and perchance had stood in the courts of Pharaoh or ofSolomon. 

Their salutations finished, the three men squatted in a line upon thefloor, drawing their fur karosses, or robes, about them, and waited insilence. Jacob Meyer thought a while, then said:

"Clifford, will you translate to your daughter, so that she may be sureshe is told exactly what passes?"

Next he turned and addressed the natives. 

"Your names are Tamas, Tamala, and Hoba, and you, Tamas, are the son ofthe Molimo of Bambatse, who is called Mambo, and you, Tamala and Hoba, are his initiated councillors. Is it so?"

They bowed their heads. 

"Good. You, Tamas, tell the story and give again your message that thislady, the lady Benita, may hear it, for she has a part in the matter. "

"We understand that she has a part, " answered Tamas. "We read in herface that she has the greatest part. Doubtless it is of her that theSpirit told my father. These, spoken by my mouth, are the words of theMolimo, my father, which we have travelled so far to deliver. 

"'When you two white men visited Bambatse four years ago, you asked ofme, Mambo, to be admitted to the holy place, that you might look for thetreasure there which the Portuguese hid in the time of my ancestor inthe sixth generation. I refused to allow you to look, or even to enterthe holy place, because I am by birth the guardian of that treasure, although I know not where it lies. But now I am in a great strait. Ihave news that Lobengula the usurper, who is king of the Matabele, hastaken offence against me for certain reasons, among them that I did notsend him a sufficient tribute. It is reported to me that he purposesnext summer to despatch an impi to wipe me and my people out, and tomake my kraal black as the burnt veld. I have little strength to resisthim who is mighty, and my people are not warlike. From generation togeneration they have been traders, cultivators of the land, workers inmetal, and men of peace, who desire not to kill or be killed. Also theyare few. Therefore I have no power to stand against Lobengula. 

"'I remember the guns that you and your companion brought with you, which can kill things from far away. If I had a supply of those gunsfrom behind my walls I might defy the impi of Lobengula, whose warriorsuse the assegai. If you will bring me a hundred good guns and plenty ofpowder and bullets for them, it is revealed to me that it will be lawfulfor me to admit you to the secret, holy place, where you may look forthe buried gold for as long as you wish, and if you can find it, takeit all away without hindrance from me or my people. But I will be honestwith you. That gold will never be found save by the one appointed. Thewhite lady said so in the time of my forefather; he heard it with hisears, and I have heard it from his descendants with my ears, and so itshall be. Still, if you bring the guns you can come and see if eitherof you is that one appointed. But I do not think that any man is soappointed, for the secret is hid in woman. But of this you can learn foryourselves. I do but speak as I am bidden. 

"'This is my message spoken by my mouth, Tamas, son of my body, and mycouncillors who go with him will bear witness that he speaks the truth. I, Mambo, the Molimo of Bambatse, send you greeting, and will give yougood welcome and fulfil my promise, if you come with the far-shootingguns, ten times ten of them, and the powder, and the bullets wherewithI may drive off the Matabele, but not otherwise. My son, Tamas, and mycouncillors will drive your waggon into my country but you must bringno strange servants. The Spirit of the white woman who killed herselfbefore the eyes of my forefather has been seen of late standing upon thepoint of rock; also she has visited me at night in my secret place whereher companions died. I do not know all that this portends, but I thinkthat amongst other things she wished to tell me that the Matabele areabout to attack us. I await the decree of the Heavens. I send you twokarosses as a gift, and a little ancient gold, since ivory is too heavyfor my messengers to carry, and I have no waggon. Farewell. '"

"We have heard you, " said Meyer, when Mr. Clifford had finishedtranslating, "and we wish to ask you a question. What do you mean whenyou say that the Spirit of the white woman has been seen?"

"I mean what I say, white man, " answered Tamas. "She was seen by allthree of us, standing upon the pinnacle at the dawn; also my father sawand spoke with her alone in his sleep at night. This is the third timein my father's day that she has appeared thus, and always before somegreat event. "

"What was she like?" asked Meyer. 

"Like? Oh! like the lady who sits yonder. Yes, quite the same, or so itseemed to us. But who knows? We have seen no other white women, and wewere not very near. Let the lady come and stand side by side with theSpirit, so that we can examine them both, and we shall be able to answerbetter. Do you accept the offer of the Molimo?"

"We will tell you to-morrow morning, " replied Meyer. "A hundred riflesare many to find, and will cost much money. Meanwhile, for you there isfood and a sleeping-place. "

The three men seemed disappointed at his answer, which they evidentlybelieved to be preliminary to a refusal. For a moment or two theyconsulted together, then Tamas put his hand into a pouch and drew fromit something wrapped in dry leaves, which he undid, revealing a quaintand beautiful necklace, fashioned of twisted gold links, wherein wereset white stones, that they had no difficulty in recognising as uncutdiamonds of considerable value. From this necklace also hung a crucifixmoulded in gold. 

"We offer this gift, " he said, "on behalf of Mambo, my father, to thelady yonder, to whom the karosses and the rough gold are of no use. The chain has a story. When the Portuguese lady hurled herself into theriver she wore it about her neck. As she fell into the river she struckagainst a little point of rock which tore the chain away from her--seewhere it is broken and mended with gold wire. It remained upon the pointof rock, and my forefather took it thence. It is a gift to the lady ifshe will promise to wear it. "

"Accept it, " muttered Mr. Clifford, when he had finished translatingthis, "or you will give offence. "

So Benita said: "I thank the Molimo, and accept his gift. "

Then Tamas rose, and, advancing, cast the ancient, tragic thing over herhead. As it fell upon her shoulders, Benita knew that it was a chain ofdestiny drawing her she knew not where, this ornament that had last beenworn by that woman, bereaved and unhappy as herself, who could find norefuge from her sorrow except in death. Had she felt it torn from herbreast, she wondered, as she, the living Benita of to-day, felt it fallupon her own?

The three envoys rose, bowed, and went, leaving them alone. Jacob Meyerlifted his head as though to address her, then changed his mind and wassilent. Both the men waited for her to speak, but she would not, and inthe end it was her father who spoke first. 

"What do you say, Benita?" he asked anxiously. 

"I? I have nothing to say, except that I have heard a very curiousstory. This priest's message is to you and Mr. Meyer, father, and mustbe answered by you. What have I to do with it?"

"A great deal, I think, my dear, or so those men seemed to believe. At any rate, I cannot go up there without you, and I will not take youthere against your wish, for it is a long way off, and a queer business. The question is, will you go?"

She thought a space, while the two men watched her anxiously. 

"Yes, " she answered at length, in a quiet voice. "I will go if you wishto go, not because I want to find treasure, but because the story andthe country where it happened interest me. Indeed, I don't believe muchin the treasure. Even if they are superstitious and afraid to look forit themselves, I doubt whether they would allow you to look if theythought it could be found. To me the journey does not seem a goodbusiness speculation, also there are risks. "

"We think it good enough, " broke in Meyer decidedly. "And one does notexpect to get millions without trouble. "

"Yes, yes, " said her father; "but she is right--there are risks, greatrisks--fever, wild beasts, savages, and others that one cannot foresee. Have I a right to expose her to them? Ought we not to go alone?"

"It would be useless, " answered Meyer. "Those messengers have seen yourdaughter, and mixed her up with their superstitious story of a ghost, of which I, who know that there are no such things, believe nothing. Without her now we shall certainly fail. "

"As for the risks, father, " said Benita, "personally I take no accountof them, for I am sure that what is to happen will happen, and if I knewthat I was to die upon the Zambesi, it would make no difference to mewho do not care. But as it chances, I think--I cannot tell you why--thatyou and Mr. Meyer are in more danger than I am. It is for you toconsider whether you will take the risks. "

Mr. Clifford smiled. "I am old, " he said; "that is my answer. "

"And I am accustomed to such things, " said Meyer, with a shrug of hisshoulders. "Who would not run a little danger for the sake of such aglorious chance? Wealth, wealth, more wealth than we can dream of, and with it, power--power to avenge, to reward, to buy position, andpleasure, and all beautiful things which are the heritage of the veryrich alone, " and he spread out his hands and looked upwards, as thoughin adoration of this golden god. 

"Except such trifles as health and happiness, " commented Benita, notwithout sarcasm, for this man and his material desires disgusted hersomewhat, especially when she contrasted him with another man whowas lost to her, though it was true that _his_ past had been idle andunproductive enough. Yet they interested her also, for Benita had nevermet anyone like Mr. Meyer, so talented, so eager, and so soulless. 

"Then I understand it is settled?" she said. 

Mr. Clifford hesitated, but Meyer answered at once:

"Yes, settled as far as anything can be. "

She waited a moment for her father to speak, but he said nothing; hischance had gone by. 

"Very well. Now we shall not need to trouble ourselves with furtherdoubts or argument. We are going to Bambatse on the Zambesi, a distantplace, to look for buried gold, and I hope, Mr. Meyer, that if you findit, the results will come up to your expectations, and bring you allsorts of good luck. Good-night, father dear, good-night. "

"My daughter thinks it will bring us ill-luck, " said Mr. Clifford, whenthe door had closed behind her. "That is her way of saying so. "

"Yes, " answered Meyer gloomily; "she thinks that, and she is one ofthose who have vision. Well, she may be wrong. Also, the question is, shall we seize our opportunity and its dangers, or remain here and breedbad horses all our lives, while she who is not afraid laughs at us? I amgoing to Bambatse. "

Again Mr. Clifford made no direct answer, only asked a question:

"How long will it take to get the guns and ammunition, and what willthey cost?"

"About a week from Wakkerstroom, " replied Meyer. "Old Potgieter, the trader there, has just imported a hundred Martinis and a hundredWestley-Richards falling-blocks. Fifty of each, with ten thousand roundsof cartridges, will cost about £600, and we have as much as that in thebank; also we have the new waggon, and plenty of good oxen and horses. We can take a dozen of the horses with us, and sell them in the northof the Transvaal for a fine price, before we get into the tetseflybelt. The oxen will probably carry us through, as they are most of themsalted. "

"You have thought it all out, Jacob, I see; but it means a lot of moneyone way and another, to say nothing of other things. "

"Yes, a lot of money, and those rifles are too good for Kaffirs. Birmingham gas-pipes would have done for them, but there are none to behad. But what is the money, and what are the guns, compared to all theywill bring us?"

"I think you had better ask my daughter, Jacob. She seems to have herown ideas upon the subject. "

"Miss Clifford has made up her mind, and it will not change. I shall askher no more, " replied Meyer. 

Then he, too, left the room, to give orders about the journey toWakkerstroom that he must take upon the morrow. But Mr. Clifford satthere till past midnight, wondering whether he had done right, and ifthey would find the treasure of which he had dreamed for years, and whatthe future had in store for them. 

If only he could have seen!

When Benita came to breakfast the next morning, she asked where Mr. Meyer was, and learned that he had already departed for Wakkerstroom. 

"Certainly he is in earnest, " she said with a laugh. 

"Yes, " answered her father; "Jacob is always in earnest, though, somehow, his earnestness has not brought him much good so far. If wefail, it will not be want of thought and preparation on his part. "

Nearly a week went by before Meyer returned again, and meanwhile Benitamade ready for her journey. In the intervals of her simple preparationsalso she talked a good deal, with the help of her father, to the threesturdy-looking Makalanga, who were resting thankfully after their longjourney. Their conversation was general, since by tacit consent nofurther mention was made of the treasure or of anything to do with it, but it enabled her to form a fair opinion of them and their people. Shegathered that although they spoke a dialect of Zulu, they had noneof the bravery of the Zulus, and indeed lived in deadly terror of theMatabele, who are bastard Zulus--such terror, in fact, that she greatlydoubted whether the hundred rifles would be of much use to them, shouldthey ever be attacked by that tribe. 

They were what their fathers had been before them, agriculturists andworkers in metals--not fighting men. Also she set herself to learn whatshe could of their tongue, which she did not find difficult, for Benitahad a natural aptitude for languages, and had never forgotten the Dutchand Zulu she used to prattle as a child, which now came back to hervery fast. Indeed, she could already talk fairly in either of thoselanguages, especially as she spent her spare hours in studying theirgrammar, and reading them. 

So the days went on, till one evening Jacob Meyer appeared with twoScotch carts laden with ten long boxes that looked like coffins, andother smaller boxes which were very heavy, to say nothing of a multitudeof stores. As Mr. Clifford prophesied, he had forgotten nothing, forhe even brought Benita various articles of clothing, and a revolver forwhich she had not asked. 

Three days later they trekked away from Rooi Krantz upon a peculiarlybeautiful Sunday morning in the early spring, giving it out that theywere going upon a trading and shooting expedition in the north of theTransvaal. Benita looked back at the pretty little stead and the woodedkloof behind it over which she had nearly fallen, and the placid lake infront of it where the nesting wildfowl wheeled, and sighed. For to her, now that she was leaving it, the place seemed like home, and it cameinto her mind that she would never see it any more. 

VIII

BAMBATSE

Nearly four months had gone by when at length the waggon with whichwere Mr. Clifford, Benita, and Jacob Meyer camped one night within thecountry of the Molimo of Bambatse, whose name was Mambo. Or perhapsthat was his title, since (according to Tamas his son) every chief insuccession was called Mambo, though not all of them were Molimos, orrepresentatives and prophets of God, or the Great Spirit whom they knewas Munwali. Thus sometimes the Molimo, or priest of Munwali, and theMambo or chief were different persons. For instance, he said that he, Tamas, would be Mambo on his father's death, but no visions were givento him; therefore as yet, at any rate, he was not called to be Molimo. 

In the course of this long journey they had met with many adventures, such as were common to African travellers before the days of railroads;adventures with wild beasts and native tribes, adventures with swollenrivers also, and one that was worst, with thirst, since for three days(owing to the failure of a pit or pan, where they expected to findwater) they were obliged to go without drink. Still, none of thesewere very serious, nor had any of the three of them ever been in betterhealth than they were at this moment, for by good luck they had escapedall fever. Indeed, their rough, wild life had agreed with Benitaextraordinarily well, so well that any who had known her in the streetsof London would scarcely have recognized her as the sunburnt, active andwell-formed young woman who sat that night by the camp fire. 

All the horses they had brought with them had been sold, except somewhich had died, and three that were "salted, " or proof against thedeadly horse sickness, which they took on with them. Their own servantsalso had been sent back to Rooi Krantz in charge of a Scotch cart ladenwith ivory, purchased from Boer hunters who had brought it down from thenorth of the Transvaal. Therefore, for this was part of the bargain, thethree Makalanga were now their only attendants who drove and herded thecattle, while Benita cooked the food which the two white men shot, orsometimes bought from natives. 

For days they had been passing through a country that was practicallydeserted, and now, having crossed a high nek, the same on which RobertSeymour had left his waggon, they were camped in low land which, as theycould see by the remains of walls that appeared everywhere, had oncebeen extensively enclosed and cultivated. To their right was a risingmountainous ground, beyond which, said the Makalanga, ran the Zambesi, and in front of them, not more than ten miles away, a great isolatedhill, none other than that place that they had journeyed so far toreach, Bambatse, round which flowed the great river. Indeed, thither oneof the three Makalanga, he who was named Hoba, had gone on to announcetheir approach. 

They had outspanned amongst ruins, most of them circular in shape, andBenita, studying them in the bright moonlight, guessed that once thesehad been houses. That place now so solitary, hundreds or thousands ofyears ago was undoubtedly the home of a great population. Thousands, rather than hundreds, she thought, since close at hand in the middleof one of these round houses, grew a mighty baobab tree, that could nothave seen less than ten or fifteen centuries since the seed whence itsprang pierced the cement floor which was still visible about its giantbole. 

Tamas, the Molimo's son, saw her studying these evidences of antiquity, and, approaching, saluted her. 

"Lady, " he said in his own language, which by now she spoke very well, "lady"--and he waved his hand with a fine gesture--"behold the city ofmy people. "

"How do you know that it was their city?" she asked. 

"I do not know, lady. Stones cannot speak, the spirits are silent, andwe have forgotten. Still, I think so, and our fathers have told us thatbut six or eight generations ago many folk lived here, though it was notthey who built these walls. Even fifty years ago there were many, butnow the Matabele have killed them, and we are few; to-morrow you willsee how few. Come here and look, " and he led her through the entranceof a square cattle kraal which stood close by. Within were tufts ofrank grass, and a few bushes, and among these scores of skulls and otherbones. 

"The Matabele killed these in the time of Moselikatse, " he said. "Nowdo you wonder that we who remain fear the Matabele, and desire guns todefend ourselves from them, even if we must sell our secrets, in orderto buy those guns, who have no money to pay for them?"

"No, " she answered, looking at the tall, dignified man, into whose soulthe irons of fear and slavery had burnt so deep. "No, I do not wonder. "

Next morning at daybreak they trekked on, always through these evidencesof dead, forgotten people. They had not more than ten miles to cover toreach their long journey's end, but the road, if so it could be called, ran up-hill, and the oxen, whereof only fourteen were now left to dragthe heavy-laden waggon, were thin and footsore, so that their progresswas very slow. Indeed, it was past midday when at length they began toenter what by apology might be called the town of Bambatse. 

"When we go away from this, it will have to be by water, I think, unlesswe can buy trek-cattle, " said Meyer, looking at the labouring oxen witha doubtful eye. 

"Why?" asked Mr. Clifford anxiously. 

"Because several of those beasts have been bitten by tetsefly, like myhorse, and the poison is beginning to work. I thought so last night, butnow I am sure. Look at their eyes. It was down in that bit of bush veldeight days ago. I said that we ought not to camp there. "

At this moment they came to the crest of the ridge, and on its furtherside saw the wonderful ruins of Bambatse close at hand. In front ofthem stood a hill jutting out, as it were into the broad waters of theZambesi river, which, to a great extent, protected it upon three sides. The fourth, that opposite to them, except at one place where a kind ofnatural causeway led into the town, was also defended by Nature, sincehere for more than fifty feet in height the granite rock of the base ofthe hill rose sheer and unclimbable. On the mount itself, that in allmay have covered eight or ten acres of ground, and surrounded by a deepdonga or ditch, were three rings of fortifications, set one above theother, mighty walls which, it was evident, had been built by no modernhand. Looking at them Benita could well understand how it came aboutthat the poor fugitive Portuguese had chosen this as their last place ofrefuge, and were overcome at length, not by the thousands of savages whofollowed and surrounded them, but by hunger. Indeed, the place seemedimpregnable to any force that was not armed with siege guns. 

On the hither side of this natural fosse, which, doubtless, in ancienttimes had been filled with water led from the Zambesi, stood the villageof the Bambatse Makalanga, a collection of seventy or eighty wretchedhuts, round, like those of their forefathers, but built of mud andthatch. About them lay the gardens, or square fields, that were wellcultivated, and at this season rich with ripening corn. Benita, however, could see no cattle, and concluded, therefore, that these must be kepton the hill for safety, and within its walls. 

Down the rough road they lumbered, and through the village, where thefew women and children stared at them in a frightened way. Then theycame to the causeway, which, on its further side, was blocked withthorns and rough stones taken from the ruins. While they waited forthese to be removed by some men who now appeared, Benita looked at themassive, circular wall still thirty or forty feet in height, by perhapstwenty through its base, built of granite blocks without mortar, and ornamented with quaint patterns of other coloured stones. Inits thickness she could see grooves, where evidently had once beenportcullises, but these had disappeared long ago. 

"It is a wonderful place, " she said to her father. "I am glad that Icame. Have you been all over it?"

"No; only between the first and second walls, and once between thesecond and third. The old temple, or whatever it is, is on the top, and into that they would never admit us. It is there that the treasurelies. "

"That the treasure is supposed to lie, " she answered with a smile. "But, Father, what guarantee have you that they will do so now? Perhaps theywill take the guns and show us the door--or rather the gate. "

"Your daughter is right, there is none; and before a box is taken offthe waggon we must get one, " said Meyer. "Oh! I know it is risky, and itwould have been better to make sure first, but it is too late to talk ofthat now. Look, the stones are cleared. Trek on--trek!"

The long waggon-whip cracked, the poor, tired-out oxen strained at theyokes, and on they went through the entrance of that fateful fortressthat was but just wide enough to admit them. Inside lay a great openspace, which, as they could see from the numerous ruins, had once beenfilled with buildings that now were half hidden by grass, trees, andcreepers. This was the outer ring of the temple where, in ancientdays, the priests and captains had their home. Travelling across it forperhaps a hundred and fifty yards, they came near the second wall, whichwas like the first, only not quite so solid, and saw that on a stretchof beaten ground, and seated in the shadow, for the day was hot, thepeople of Bambatse were gathered to greet them. 

When within fifty yards they dismounted from the horses, which wereleft with the waggon in the charge of the Makalanga, Tamala. Then Benitataking her position between her father and Jacob Meyer, theyadvanced towards the ring of natives, of whom there may have been twohundred--all of them adult men. 

As they came, except one figure who remained seated with his backagainst the wall, the human circle stood up as a token of respect, andBenita saw that they were of the same stamp as the messengers--tall andgood-looking, with melancholy eyes and a cowed expression, wearing theappearance of people who from day to day live in dread of slavery anddeath. Opposite to them was a break in the circle, through which Tamasled them, and as they crossed it Benita felt that all those peoplewere staring at her with their sad eyes. A few paces from where theman crouched against the wall, his head hidden by a beautifully workedblanket that was thrown over it, were placed three well-carved stools. Upon these, at a motion from Tamas, they sat themselves down, and, as itwas not dignified for them to speak first, remained silent. 

"Be patient and forgive, " said Tamas at length. "My father, Mambo, praysto the Munwali and the spirits of his fathers that this coming of yoursmay be fortunate, and that a vision of those things that are to be maydescend upon him. "

Benita, feeling nearly two hundred pairs of eyes concentrated upon her, wished that the vision might come quickly, but after a minute ortwo fell into tune with the thing, and almost enjoyed this strangeexperience. Those mighty ancient walls built by hands unknown, whichhad seen so much history and so much death; the silent, triple ringof patient, solemn men, the last descendants of a cultured race, thecrouching figure hidden beneath the blanket, who imagined himself to becommunicating with his god--it was all very strange, very well worth theseeing to one who had wearied of the monotony of civilization. 

Look, the man stirred, and threw back his blanket, revealing a headwhite with age, a spiritual, ascetic face, so thin that every boneshowed in it, and dark eyes which stared upwards unseeingly, like thoseof a person in a trance. Thrice he sighed, while his tribesmen watchedhim. Then he let his eyes fall upon the three white people seatedin front of him. First he looked at Mr. Clifford, and his face grewtroubled; then at Jacob Meyer, and it was anxious and alarmed. Lastly, he stared at Benita, and while he did so the dark eyes became calm andhappy. 

"White maiden, " he said in a soft, low voice, "for you, at least, I havegood tidings. Though Death come near to you, though you see him on yourright hand and your left, and in front of you and behind you, I say, fear not. Here you, who have known deep sorrow, shall find happiness andrest, O maiden, with whom goes the spirit of one pure and fair as you, who died so long ago. "

Then, while Benita wondered at his words, spoken with such sweetearnestness that although she believed nothing of them, they broughta kind of comfort to her, he looked once more at her father and JacobMeyer, and, as it were with an effort, was silent. 

"Have you no pleasant prophecy for me, old friend, " said Jacob, "whohave come so far to hear it?"

At once the aged face grew inscrutable, all expression vanished behind ahundred wrinkles, and he answered:

"None, white man--none that I am charged to deliver. Search the skiesfor yourself, you who are so wise, and read them if you can. Lords, " hewent on in another voice, "I greet you in the name and presence of mychildren. Son Tamas, I greet you also; you have done your mission well. Listen, now--you are weary and would rest and eat; still, bear with me, for I have a word to say. Look around you. You see all my tribe, nottwenty times ten above the age of boys, we who once were countless asthe leaves on yonder trees in spring. Why are we dead? Because of theAmandabele, those fierce dogs whom, two generations ago, Moselikatse, the general of Chaka, brought up to the south of us, who ravish us andkill us year by year. 

"We are not warlike, we who have outlived war and the lust of slaying. We are men of peace, who desire to cultivate the land, and to follow ourarts which have descended to us from our ancestors, and to worshipthe Heavens above us, whither we depart to join the spirits of ourforefathers. But they are fierce and strong and savage, and they comeup and murder our children and old people, and take away the young womenand the maidens to be slaves, and with them all our cattle. Where areour cattle? Lobengula, chief of the Amandabele, has them; scarce a cowis left to give milk to the sick or to the motherless babe. And yet hesends for cattle. Tribute, say his messengers, deliver tribute, or myimpi will come and take it with your lives. But we have no cattle--allare gone. We have nothing left to us but this ancient mountain and theworks built thereon, and a little corn on which we live. Yes, I sayit--I, the Molimo--I whose ancestors were great kings--I who have stillmore wisdom in me than all the hosts of the Amandabele, " and as he spokethe old man's grey head sank upon his breast and the tears ran down hiswithered cheeks, while his people answered:

"Mambo, it is true. "

"Now listen again, " he went on. "Lobengula threatens us, therefore Isent to these white men who were here before, saying that if they wouldbring me a hundred guns, and powder and ball, to enable us to beat offthe Amandabele from behind these strong walls of ours, I would take theminto the secret holy place where for six generations no white man hasset a foot, and there suffer them to search for the treasure which ishid therein, no man knows where, that treasure which they asked leave tofind four winters gone. We refused it then and drove them hence, becauseof the curse laid upon us by the white maid who died, the last of thePortuguese, who foretold her people's fate for us if we gave up theburied gold save to one appointed. My children, the Spirit of Bambatsehas visited me; I have seen her and others have seen her, and in mysleep she said to me: 'Suffer the men to come and search, for with themis one of the blood to whom my people's wealth is given; and great isyour danger, for many spears draw nigh. ' My children, I sent my son andother messengers on a far journey to where I knew the men dwelt, andthey have returned after many months bringing those men with them, bringing with them also another of whom I knew nothing--yes, her who isappointed, her of whom the Spirit spoke. "

Then he lifted his withered hand and held it towards Benita, saying: "Itell you that yonder she sits for whom the generations have waited. "

"It is so, " answered the Makalanga. "It is the White Lady come again totake her own. "

"Friends, " asked the Molimo, while they wondered at his strange speech, "tell me, have you brought the guns?"

"Surely, " answered Mr. Clifford, "they are there in the waggon, everyone of them, the best that can be made, and with them ten thousandcartridges, bought at a great cost. We have fulfilled our share of thebargain; now will you fulfil yours, or shall we go away again with theguns and leave you to meet the Matabele with your assegais?"

"Say you the agreement while we listen, " answered the Molimo. 

"Good, " said Mr. Clifford. "It is this: That you shall find us food andshelter while we are with you. That you shall lead us into the secretplace at the head of the hill, where the Portuguese died, and the goldis hidden. That you shall allow us to search for that gold when andwhere we will. That if we discover the gold, or anything else of valueto us, you shall suffer us to take it away, and assist us upon ourjourney, either by giving us boats and manning them to travel down theZambesi, or in whatever fashion may be most easy. That you shall permitnone to hurt, molest, or annoy us during our sojourn among you. Is thatour contract?"

"Not quite all of it, " said the Molimo. "There is this to add: firstthat you shall teach us how to use the guns; secondly, that you shallsearch for and find the treasure, if so it is appointed, without ourhelp, since in this matter it is not lawful for us to meddle; thirdly, that if the Amandabele should chance to attack us while you are here, you shall do your best to assist us against their power. "

"Do you, then, expect attack?" asked Meyer suspiciously. 

"White man, we always expect attack. Is it a bargain?"

"Yes, " answered Mr. Clifford and Jacob Meyer in one voice, the latteradding: "the guns and the cartridges are yours. Lead us now to thehidden place. We have fulfilled our part; we trust to the honour of youand all your people to fulfil yours. "

"White Maiden, " asked the Molimo, addressing Benita, "do you also saythat it is a bargain?"

"What my father says, I say. "

"Good, " said the Molimo. "Then, in the presence of my people, and in thename of the Munwali, I, Mambo, who am his prophet, declare that it is soagreed between us, and may the vengeance of the heavens fall upon thosewho break our pact! Let the oxen of the white men be outspanned, theirhorses fed, their waggon unloaded, that we may count the guns. Let foodbe brought into the guest-house also, and after they have eaten, I, whoalone of all of you have ever entered it, will lead them to the holyplace, that there they may begin to search for that which the whitemen desire from age to age--to find it if they can; if not, to departsatisfied and at peace. "

IX

THE OATH OF MADUNA

Mr. Clifford and Meyer rose to return to the waggon in order tosuperintend the unyoking of the oxen and to give directions as to theirherding, and the off-saddling of the horses. Benita rose also, wonderingwhen the food that had been promised would be ready, for she was hungry. Meanwhile, the Molimo was greeting his son Tamas, patting his handaffectionately and talking to him, when suddenly Benita, who watchedthis domestic scene with interest, heard a commotion behind her. Turningto discover its cause, she perceived three great man clad in full warpanoply, shields on their left arms, spears in their right hands, blackostrich plumes rising from the polished rings woven in their hair, blackmoochas about their middles, and black oxtails tied beneath their knees, who marched through the throng of Makalanga as though they saw them not. 

"The Matabele! The Matabele are on us!" cried a voice; while othervoices shouted, "Fly to your walls!" and yet others, "Kill them! Theyare few. "

But the three men marched on unheeding till they stood before Mambo. 

"Who are you, and what do you seek?" the old man asked boldly, thoughthe fear that had taken hold of him at the sight of these strangers wasevident enough, for his whole body shook. 

"Surely you should know, chief of Bambatse, " answered their spokesmanwith a laugh, "for you have seen the like of us before. We are thechildren of Lobengula, the Great Elephant, the King, the Black Bull, theFather of the Amandabele, and we have a message for your ear, little OldMan, which, finding that you leave your gate open, we have walked in todeliver. "

"Speak your message then, envoys of Lobengula, in my ear and in those ofmy people, " said the Molimo. 

"Your people! Are these all your people?" the spokesman repliedcontemptuously. "Why then, what need was there for the indunas of theKing to send so large an impi under a great general against you, when acompany of lads armed with sticks would have served the turn? We thoughtthat these were but the sons of your house, the men of your own family, whom you had called together to eat with the white strangers. "

"Close the entrance in the wall, " cried the Molimo, stung to fury by theinsult; and a voice answered:

"Father, it is already done. "

But the Matabele, who should have been frightened, only laughed again, and their spokesman said:

"See, my brothers, he thinks to trap us who are but three. Well, killon, Old Wizard, if you will, but know that if a hand is lifted, this spear of mine goes through your heart, and that the children ofLobengula die hard. Know also that then the impi which waits not faraway will destroy you every one, man and woman, youth and maiden, little ones who hold the hand and infants at the breast; none shall beleft--none at all, to say, 'Here once lived the cowardly Makalanga ofBambatse. ' Nay, be not foolish, but talk softly with us, so that perhapswe may spare your lives. "

Then the three men placed themselves back to back, in such fashion thatthey faced every way, and could not be smitten down from behind, andwaited. 

"I do not kill envoys, " said the Molimo, "but if they are foul-mouthed, I throw them out of my walls. Your message, men of the Amandabele. "

"I hear you. Hearken now to the word of Lobengula. "

Then the envoy began to speak, using the pronoun I as though it were theMatabele king himself who spoke to his vassal, the Makalanga chief: "Isent to you last year, you slave, who dare to call yourself Mambo of theMakalanga, demanding a tribute of cattle and women, and warning you thatif they did not come, I would take them. They did not come, but thattime I spared you. Now I send again. Hand over to my messengers fiftycows and fifty oxen, with herds to drive them, and twelve maidens tobe approved by them, or I wipe you out, who have troubled the earth toolong, and that before another moon has waned. 

"Those are the words of Lobengula, " he concluded, and taking the hornsnuff-box from the slit in his ear, helped himself, then insolentlypassed it to the Molimo. 

So great was the old chief's rage that, forgetting his self-control, hestruck the box from the hand of his tormentor to the ground, where thesnuff lay spilled. 

"Just so shall the blood of your people be spilled through your rashfoolishness, " said the messenger calmly, as he picked up the box, and asmuch of the snuff as he could save. 

"Hearken, " said the Molimo, in a thin, trembling voice. "Your kingdemands cattle, knowing that all the cattle are gone, that scarce a cowis left to give drink to a motherless babe. He asks for maidens also, but if he took those he seeks we should have none left for our young mento marry. And why is this so? It is because the vulture, Lobengula, haspicked us to the bone; yes, while we are yet alive he has torn the fleshfrom us. Year by year his soldiers have stolen and killed, till at lastnothing is left of us. And now he seeks what we have not got to give, inorder that he may force a quarrel upon us and murder us. There is noughtleft for us to give Lobengula. You have your answer. "

"Indeed!" replied the envoy with a sneer. "How comes it, then, thatyonder I see a waggon laden with goods, and oxen in the yokes? Yes, "he repeated with meaning, "with goods whereof we have known the likeat Buluwayo; for Lobengula also sometimes buys guns from white men, O!little Makalanga. Come now, give us the waggon with its load and theoxen and the horses, and though it be but a small gift, we will take itaway and ask nothing more this year. "

"How can I give you the property of my guests, the white men?" asked theMolimo. "Get you gone, and do your worst, or you shall be thrown fromthe walls of the fortress. "

"Good, but know that very soon we shall return and make an end ofyou, who are tired of these long and troublesome journeys to gather solittle. Go, tend your corn, dwellers in Bambatse, for this I swear inthe name of Lobengula, never shall you see it ripen more. "

Now the crowd of listening Makalanga trembled at his words, but in theold Molimo they seemed only to rouse a storm of prophetic fury. For amoment he stood staring up at the blue sky, his arms outstretched asthough in prayer. Then he spoke in a new voice--a clear, quiet voice, that did not seem to be his own. 

"Who am I?" he said. "I am the Molimo of the Bambatse Makalanga; I amthe ladder between them and Heaven; I sit on the topmost bough ofthe tree under which they shelter, and there in the crest of thetree Munwali speaks with me. What to you are winds, to me are voiceswhispering in my spirit's ears. Once my forefathers were great kings, they were Mambos of all the land, and that is still my name and dignity. We lived in peace; we laboured, we did wrong to no man. Then you Zulusavages came upon us from the south-east and your path was red withblood. Year after year you robbed and you destroyed; you raided ourcattle, you murdered our men, you took our maidens and our children tobe your women and your slaves, until at length, of all this pit filledwith the corn of life, there is left but a little handful. And this yousay you will eat up also, lest it should fall into good ground and growagain. I tell you that I think it will not be so; but whether or no thathappens, I have words for the ear of your king--a message for a message. Say to him that thus speaks the wise old Molimo of Bambatse. 

"I see him hunted like a wounded hyena through the rivers, in the deepbush, and over the mountain. I see him die in pain and misery; but hisgrave I see not, for no man shall know it. I see the white man take hisland and all his wealth; yea, to them and to no son of his shall hispeople give the Bayéte, the royal salute. Of his greatness and hispower, this alone shall remain to him--a name accursed from generationto generation. And last of all I see peace upon the land and upon mychildren's children. " He paused, then added: "For you, cruel dog thatyou are, this message also from the Munwali, by the lips of his Molimo. I lift no hand against you, but you shall not live to look again uponyour king's face. Begone now, and do your worst. "

For a moment the three Matabele seemed to be frightened, and Benitaheard one of them say to his companions:

"The Wizard has bewitched us! He has bewitched the Great Elephant andall his people! Shall we kill him?"

But quickly shaking off his fears their spokesman laughed, and answered:

"So that is what you have brought the white people here for, oldtraitor--to plot against the throne of Lobengula. "

He wheeled round and stared at Mr. Clifford and Jacob Meyer; then added:

"Good, Grey-beard and Black-Beard: I myself will put you both to such adeath as you have never heard of, and as for the girl, since she is wellfavoured, she shall brew the king's beer, and be numbered amongst theking's wives--unless, indeed, he is pleased to give her to me. "

In an instant the thing was done! At the man's words about Benita, Meyer, who had been listening to his threats and bombast unconcerned, suddenly seemed to awake. His dark eyes flashed, his pale face turnedcruel. Snatching the revolver from his belt he seemed to point and fireit with one movement, and down--dead or dying--went the Matabele. 

Men did not stir, they only stared. Accustomed as they were to death inthat wild land, the suddenness of this deed surprised them. The contrastbetween the splendid, brutal savage who had stood before them a momentago, and the limp, black thing going to sleep upon the ground, wasstrange enough to move their imaginations. There he lay, and there, overhim, the smoking pistol in his hand, Meyer stood and laughed. 

Benita felt that the act was just, and the awful punishment deserved. Yet that laugh of Jacob's jarred upon her, for in it she thought sheheard the man's heart speaking; and oh, its voice was merciless! SurelyJustice should not laugh when her sword falls!

"Behold, now, " said the Molimo in his still voice, pointing at the deadMatabele with his finger; "do I speak lies, or is it true that thisman shall not look more upon his king's face? Well, as it was withthe servant, so it shall be with the lord, only more slowly. It is thedecree of the Munwali, spoken by the voice of his Mouth, the Molimo ofBambatse. Go, children of Lobengula, and bear with you as an offeringthis first-fruit of the harvest that the white men shall reap among thewarriors of his people. "

The thin voice died away, and there was silence so intense that Benitathought she heard the scraping of the feet of a green lizard which creptacross a stone a yard or two away. 

Then of a sudden it ended. Of a sudden the two remaining Matabele turnedand fled for their lives, and as, when dogs run, a flock of sheep willwheel about and pursue them, so did the Makalanga. They grabbed at themessengers with their hands, tearing their finery from them; they struckthem with sticks, they pounded them with stones, till at length twobruised and bleeding men, finding all escape cut off, and led perhapsby some instinct, staggered back to where Benita stood horrified at thisdreadful scene, and throwing themselves upon the ground, clutched at herdress and prayed for mercy. 

"Move a little, Miss Clifford, " said Meyer. "Three of those brutes willnot weigh heavier than one upon my conscience. "

"No, no, you shall not, " she answered. "Mambo, these men are messengers;spare them. "

"Hearken to the voice of pity, " said the old prophet, "spoken in a placewhere pity never was, and not in vain. Let them go. Give mercy to themerciless, for she buys their lives with a prayer. "

"They will bring the others on us, " muttered Tamas, and even old Mr. Clifford shook his head sadly. But the Molimo only said:

"I have spoken. Let them go. That which will befall must befall, andfrom this deed no ill shall come that would not have come otherwise. "

"You hear? Depart swiftly, " said Benita, in Zulu. 

With difficulty the two men dragged themselves to their feet, andsupporting each other, stood before her. One of them, a clever, powerful-faced man, whose black hair was tinged with grey, addressinghimself to Benita, gasped:

"Hear me. That fool there, " and he pointed to his dead companion, "whoseboasting brought his death upon him, was but a low fellow. I, who keptsilence and let him talk, am Maduna, a prince of the royal house whojustly deserve to die because I turned my back upon these dogs. Yet Iand my brother here take life at your hands, Lady, who, now that I havehad time to think, would refuse it at theirs. For, whether I stay orgo does not matter. The impi waits; the slayers are beneath the walls. Those things which are decreed will happen; there, yonder old Wizardspeaks true. Listen, Lady: should it chance that you have cause todemand two lives at the hands of Maduna, in his own name and the nameof his king he promises them to you. In safety shall they pass, theyand all that is theirs, without toll taken. Remember the oath of Maduna, Lady, in the hour of your need, and do you, my brother, bear witness toit among our people. "

Then, straightening themselves as well as they were able, these twosorely hurt men lifted their right arms and gave Benita the salutedue to a chieftainess. This done, taking no note of any other creaturethere, they limped away to the gate that had been opened for them, andvanished beyond the wall. 

All this while Meyer had stood silent; now he spoke with a bitter smile. 

"Charity, Miss Clifford, said a certain Paul, as reported in your NewTestament, covers a multitude of sins. I hope very much that it willserve to cover our remains from the aasvogels, after we have met ourdeaths in some such fashion as that brute promised us, " and he pointedto the dead man. 

Benita looked at her father in question. 

"Mr. Meyer means, my dear, that you have done a foolish thing in beggingthe lives of those Matabele. It would have been safer for us if theywere dead, who, as it is, have gone off burning for revenge. Of course, I understand it was natural enough, but----" and he hesitated andstopped. 

"The chief did not say so, " broke in Benita with agitation; "besides, ifhe had, I should not have cared. It was bad enough to see one man killedlike that, " and she shivered; "I could not bear any more. "

"You should not be angry at the fellow's death, seeing that it was whathe said of you which brought it upon him, " Meyer replied with meaning. "Otherwise he might have gone unharmed as far as I was concerned. Forthe rest, I did not interfere because I saw it was useless; also I ama fatalist like our friend, the Molimo, and believe in what is decreed. The truth is, " he added sharply, "among savages ladies are not inplace. "

"Why did you not say that down at Rooi Krantz, Jacob?" asked Mr. Clifford. "You know I thought so all the while, but somehow I wasover-ruled. Now what I suggest is, that we had better get out of thisplace as fast as we can--instantly, as soon as we have eaten, before ourretreat is cut off. "

Meyer looked at the oxen which had been outspanned: nine were wanderingabout picking up what food they could, but the five which were supposedto have been bitten by tetsefly had lain down. 

"Nine worn-out and footsore oxen will not draw the waggon, " he said;"also in all probability the place is already surrounded by Matabele, who merely let us in to be sure of the guns which their spies must havetold them we were carrying. Lastly, having spent so much and come sofar, I do not mean to go without what we seek. Still, if you think thatyour daughter's danger is greater within these walls than outsideof them, you might try, if we can hire servants, which I doubt. Orpossibly, if any rowers are to be had, you could go down the Zambesi ina canoe, risking the fever. You and she must settle it, Clifford. "

"Difficulties and dangers every way one looks. Benita, what do you say?"asked her father distractedly. 

Benita thought a moment. She wished to escape from Mr. Meyer, of whomshe was weary and afraid, and would have endured much to do so. On theother hand, her father was tired out, and needed rest; also to turnhis back upon this venture now would have been a bitter blow to him. Moreover, lacking cattle and men, how was it to be done? Lastly, something within her, that same voice which had bidden her to come, seemed to bid her to stay. Very soon she had made up her mind. 

"Father, dear, " she said, "thank you for thinking of me, but as far asI can see, we should run more risks trying to get away than we do instopping here. I wanted to come, though you warned me against it, andnow I must take my chance and trust to God to bring us safe through alldangers. Surely with all those rifles the Makalanga ought to be able tohold such a place as this against the Matabele. "

"I hope so, " answered her father; "but they are a timid folk. Still, though it would have been far better never to have come, I think withyou that it is best to stay where we are, and trust to God. "

X

THE MOUNTAIN TOP

If our adventurers, or any of them, hoped that they were going to beled to the secret places of the fortress that day, they were destinedto disappointment. Indeed, the remainder of it was employed arduouslyenough in unpacking rifles, and a supply of ammunition; also in givingto a few of the leading Makalanga preliminary lessons in the method oftheir use, a matter as to which their ideas were of the vaguest. Therest of the tribe, having brought their women and children into theouter enclosure of the ancient stronghold, and with them their sheepand goats and the few cattle which remained to them, were employed inbuilding up the entrance permanently with stones, a zigzag secret pathupon the river side, that could be stopped in a few minutes, being nowtheir only method of ingress and egress through the thickness of thewalls. A certain number of men were also sent out as spies to discover, if possible, the whereabouts of the Matabele impi. 

That there was some impi they were almost sure, for a woman who hadfollowed them reported that the injured captain, Maduna, and hiscompanion had been met at a distance of about three miles from Bambatseby a small party of Matabele, who were hiding in some bushes, and thatthese men had made litters for them, and carried them away; whither shedid not know, for she had not dared to pursue them further. 

That night Benita passed in the guesthouse, which was only a hut ratherlarger than the others, while the two men slept in the waggon justoutside. She was so tired that for a long while she could not rest. Hermind kept flying back to all the events of the day: the strange wordsof that mystic old Molimo, concerning herself; the arrival of the brutalmessengers and the indaba that followed; then the sudden and awfuldestruction of their spokesman at the hand of Jacob Meyer. The scenewould not leave her eyes, she saw it again and yet again: the quicktransformation of Meyer's indifferent face when the soldier began toinsult and threaten her, the lightning-like movement of his hand, theflash, the report, the change from life to death, and the slayer's cruellaugh. He could be very terrible, Jacob Meyer, when his passions wereroused!

And what had roused them then? She could not doubt that it washerself--not mere chivalry towards a woman. Even if he were capable ofchivalry, merely for that he would never have taken such risk of futuretrouble and revenge. No; it was something deeper. He had never saidanything or done anything, yet long ago instinct or insight had causedBenita to suspect the workings of his mind, and now she was sure ofthem. The thought was terrible--worse than all her other dangers puttogether. True, she had her father to rely on, but he had been somewhatailing of late; age and these arduous journeys and anxieties had toldupon him. Supposing that anything were to happen to him--if he died, forinstance, how dreadful her position might become, left alone far fromthe reach of help, with savages--and Jacob Meyer. 

Oh! if it had not been for that dreadful shipwreck, how different mightbe her lot to-day! Well, it was the thought of the shipwreck and of himwhom she had lost therein, which had driven her on to this adventure, that in it perhaps her suffering mind might be numbed to rest; and nowshe must face its issues. God still remained above her, and she wouldput her trust in Him. After all, if she died, what did it matter?

But that old Molimo had promised her that she was safe from death, thatshe should find here happiness and rest, though not that of the grave. He promised this, speaking as one who knew of all her grief, and a verylittle while afterwards, in the case of the Matabele soldier, he hadproved himself a prophet of awful power. Also--she knew not how, sheknew not why--now, as before, her inmost heart seemed to bear witnessthat this old dreamer's words were true, and that for her, in somestrange manner unforeseen, there still remained a rest. 

Comforted a little by this intuition, at length Benita fell asleep. 

Next morning, when she came out of the hut, Benita was met by herfather, who with a cheerful countenance informed her that at any rateas yet there was no sign of the Matabele. A few hours later, too, somespies came in who said that for miles round nothing could be seen orheard of them. Still the preparations for defence went on, and thehundred best men having been furnished with the rifles, were beingdrilled in the use of them by Tamas and his two companions, Tamala andHoba, who had learned how to handle a gun very well in the course oftheir long journey. The shooting of these raw recruits, however, provedto be execrable; indeed, so dangerous were they that when one of themfired at a mark set upon the wall, it was found necessary to orderall the rest to lie down. As it was, a poor trek ox--luckily it wassick--and two sheep were killed. 

Foreseeing a scarcity of provisions in the event of a siege, Meyer, provident as ever, had already decreed the death of the tetse-bittencattle. These were accordingly despatched, and having been skinned andcut up, their flesh was severed into long strips to be dried in theburning sun as biltong, which secretly Benita hoped she might never becalled upon to eat. Yet the time was to come when she would swallow thathard, tetse-poisoned flesh with thankfulness. 

At midday, after they had eaten, Mr. Clifford and Meyer went to theMolimo, where he sat against the second wall, and, pointing to the menwith the guns, said:

"We have fulfilled our bargain. Now fulfil yours. Lead us to the holyplace that we may begin our search. "

"So be it, " he answered. "Follow me, white people. "

Then, quite unattended, he guided them round the inner wall till theycame to a path of rock not more than a yard wide, beneath which was aprecipice fifty feet or so in depth that almost overhung the river. Thisgiddy path they followed for about twenty paces, to find that it endedin a cleft in the wall so narrow that only one person could walkthrough it at a time. That it must have been the approach to the secondstronghold was evident, however, since it was faced on either side withdressed stones, and even the foundation granite had been worn by thehuman feet which had passed here for ages upon ages. This path zigzaggedto and fro in the thickness of the wall till it brought them finallywithin its circle, a broad belt of steeply-rising ground, covered likethat below with the tumbled ruins of buildings amidst which grew bushand trees. 

"Heaven send that the gold is not buried here, " said Mr. Clifford, surveying the scene; "for if it is, we shall never find it. "

The Molimo seemed to guess the meaning of his words from his face, forhe answered:

"I think not here. The besiegers won this place and camped in it formany weeks. I could show you were they built their fires and tried toundermine the last wall within which the Portuguese sat about untilhunger killed them, for they could not eat their gold. Follow me again. "

So on they went up the slope till they came to the base of the thirdwall, and as before, passed round it, and reached a point above theriver. But now there was no passage, only some shallow and almostprecipitous steps cut from single stones leading from the foot of thewall to its summit, more than thirty feet above. 

"Really, " said Benita, contemplating this perilous ascent with dismay, "the ways of treasure seekers are hard. I don't think I can, " while herfather also looked at them and shook his head. 

"We must get a rope, " said Meyer to the Molimo angrily. "How can weclimb that place without one, with such a gulf below?"

"I am old, but I climb it, " said the aged man in mild surprise, since tohim, who had trodden it all his life, it seemed not difficult. "Still, "he added, "I have a rope above which I use upon dark nights. I willascend and let it down. "

Ascend he did accordingly; indeed, it was a wondrous sight to see hiswithered legs scrambling from step to step as unconcernedly as thoughhe were going upstairs. No monkey could have been more agile, or moreabsolutely impervious to the effects of height. Soon he vanished in--or, rather, through--the crest of the wall, and presently appeared again onthe top step, whence he let down a stout hide rope, remarking that itwas securely tied. So anxious was Meyer to enter the hidden place ofwhich he had dreamed so long that he scarcely waited for it to reachhis hand before he began the climb, which he accomplished safely. Then, sitting on the top of the wall, he directed Mr. Clifford to fasten theend of the rope round Benita's waist, and her turn came. 

It was not so bad as she expected, for she was agile, and the knowledgethat the rope would prevent disaster gave her confidence. In a verylittle while she had grasped Meyer's outstretched hand, and been drawninto safety through a kind of aperture above the top step. Then the ropewas let down again for her father, who tied it about his middle. Wellwas it that he did so, since when he was about half-way up, awkwardness, or perhaps loss of nerve--neither of them wonderful in an oldman--caused his foot to slip, and had it not been for the rope whichMeyer and the Molimo held, he would certainly have fallen into theriver some hundreds of feet below. As it was, he recovered himself, andpresently arrived panting and very pale. In her relief Benita kissedhim, and even as she did so thought again that she had been very near tobeing left alone with Jacob Meyer. 

"All's well that ends well, my dear, " he said. "But upon my word I ambeginning to wish that I had been content with the humble profits ofhorse-breeding. "

Benita made no answer; it seemed too late for any useful considerationof the point. 

"Clever men, those ancients, " said Meyer. "See, " and he pointed outto her how, by drawing a heavy stone which still lay close by over theaperture through which they had crept, the ascent of the wall couldbe made absolutely impossible to any enemy, since at its crest it wasbattened outwards, not inwards, as is usual in these ancient ruins. 

"Yes, " she answered, "we ought to feel safe enough inside here, andthat's as well since I do not feel inclined to go out again at present. "

Then they paused to look about them, and this was what they saw:

The wall, built like those below, of unmortared blocks of stone, remained in a wonderfully good state of preservation, for its onlyenemies had been time, the tropical rains, and the growth of shrubsand trees which here and there had cracked and displaced the stones. Itenclosed all the top of the hill, perhaps three acres of ground, andon it at intervals were planted soap-stone pillars, each of them abouttwelve feet in height, and fashioned at the top to a rude resemblanceof a vulture. Many of these columns, however had been blown down, orperhaps struck by lightning, and lay broken upon the wall, or if theyhad fallen inward, at its foot; but some, six or eight perhaps, werestill standing. 

Benita learned afterwards that they must have been placed there bythe ancient Phoenicians, or whatever people constructed this giganticfortification, and had something to do with the exact recordings of thedifferent seasons of the year, and their sub-divisions, by means of theshadows which they cast. As yet, however, she did not pay much attentionto them, for she was engaged in considering a more remarkable relic ofantiquity which stood upon the very verge of the precipice, the wall, indeed, being built up to its base on either side. 

It was the great cone of which Richard Seymour had told her, fifty feethigh or more, such as once was found in the Phoenician temples. But inthis case it was not built of masonry, but shaped by the hand of man outof a single gigantic granite monolith of the sort that are sometimes tobe met with in Africa, that thousands or millions of years ago had beenleft standing thus when the softer rock around it was worn away by timeand weather. On the inner side of this cone were easy steps wherebyit could be ascended, and its top, which might have been six feet indiameter, was fashioned in the shape of a cup, probably for the purposesof acts of worship and of sacrifice. This extraordinary monument, which, except on the river side, could not be seen from below on account ofthe slope of the hill, leaned slightly outwards, so that a stone droppedfrom its crest would fall into the waters of the stream. 

"Thence it was, " said the Molimo, "that my forefathers saw the last ofthe Portuguese, the fair daughter of the great Captain Ferreira, hurlherself to death after she had given the gold into our keeping, and laidthe curse upon it, until she came again. So in my dreams have I seen andheard her also, ay, and others have seen her, but these only from by theriver far below. "

He paused awhile, looking at Benita with his queer, dreamy eyes; thensaid suddenly:

"Say, Lady, do you remember nothing of that matter?"

Now Benita grew vexed, for the whole thing was uncanny and jarred uponher. 

"How can I remember, " she asked, "who was born not five and twenty yearsago?"

"I do not know, " he answered. "How should I know, who am but an ignorantold black man, who was born not much more than eighty years ago? Yet, Lady, tell me, for I seek your wisdom, where were you born from? Out ofthe earth, or out of the heavens? What? You shake your head, you whodo not remember? Well, neither do I remember. Yet it is true that allcircles meet somewhere, and it is true that the Portuguese maiden saidshe would come again; and lastly it is true that she was such an oneas you are, for she haunts this place, and I, who have seen her sittingyonder in the moonlight, know her beauty well. Yet mayhap she comes nomore in flesh, but still her spirit comes; for, Lady, out of those eyesof yours I see it gaze at me. Come, " he added abruptly, "let us descendthe wall, for as you cannot remember, there is more to show you. Have nofear--the steps are easy. "

So they went down without much difficulty, since, from the accumulationof rubbish and other causes, the wall was a great deal lower on thisside, and found themselves in the usual dense growth of vegetation andbrushwood through which ran a little path. It led them past the ruinsof buildings whereof the use and purpose were long since forgotten, fortheir roofs had fallen in hundreds or thousands of years ago, to theentrance of a cave which was placed almost at the foot of the monolithiccone, but thirty or forty yards further from the circle of the wall. Here the Molimo bade them stay while he lit the lamps within. Fiveminutes passed and he returned, saying that all was ready. 

"Be not afraid of what you may see, " he added, "for know, white people, that save my forefathers and myself, none have entered this place sincethe Portuguese perished here, nor have we, who do but come hither topray and receive the word of the Munwali, ever ventured to disturb it. As it was, so it is. Come, Lady, come; she whose spirit goes with youwas the last of your white race to pass this door. It is thereforefitting that your feet and her spirit should be the first to enter itagain. "

Benita hung back a little, for the adventure was eerie, then, determinedthat she would show no fear in the presence of this old priest, took thethin hand he stretched out to her, and walked forward with head erect. The two men began to follow her, but the Molimo stopped them, saying:

"Not so. The maiden enters first alone with me; it is her house, andshould it please her to ask you to dwell therein, so be it. But firstshe must visit her house alone. "

"Nonsense, " said Mr. Clifford angrily. "I will not have it. It willfrighten her. "

"Lady, do you trust me?" asked the Molimo. 

"Yes, " she answered; adding, "Father, I think you had better let me goalone. I am not afraid now, and it may be wisest not to thwart him. Thisis a very strange business--not like anything else--and really I thinkthat I had better go alone. If I do not come back presently, you canfollow. "

"Those who break in upon the sleep of the dead should walk gently, gently, " piped the old Molimo in a sing-song voice. "The maiden's breathis pure; the maiden's foot is light; her breath will not offend thedead; her step will not disturb the dead. White men, white men, angernot the dead, for the dead are mighty, and will be revenged upon youwhen you are dead; soon, very soon, when you are dead--dead in yoursorrows, dead in your sins, dead, gathered to that company of the deadwho await us here. "

And, still chanting his mystic song, he led Benita by the hand out ofthe light, onward into darkness, away from life, onward into the placeof death. 

XI

THE SLEEPERS IN THE CAVE

Like every other passage in this old fortress, the approach to the cavewas narrow and winding; presumably the ancients had arranged them thusto facilitate their defence. After the third bend, however, Benita saw alight ahead which flowed from a native lamp lit in the arched entrance. At the side of this arch was a shell-shaped hollow, cut in the rockabout three feet above the floor. Its appearance seemed familiar to her;why, she was soon to learn, although at the moment she did not connectit with anything in particular. The cave beyond was large, lofty, andnot altogether natural, for its walls had evidently been shaped, or atany rate trimmed, by man. Probably here the old Priests had establishedtheir oracle, or place of offering. 

At first Benita could not see much, since in that great cavern two lampsof hippopotamus oil gave but little light. Presently, however, her eyesbecame accustomed to the gloom, and as they advanced up its length sheperceived that save for a skin rug upon which she guessed the Molimo satat his solitary devotions, and some gourds and platters for water andfood, all the front part of the place appeared to be empty. Beyond, inits centre, stood an object of some gleaming metal, that from its doublehandles and roller borne upon supports of rock she took to be some kindof winch, and rightly, for beneath it was the mouth of a great well, thewater supply of the topmost fortification. 

Beyond the well was a stone altar, shaped like a truncated cone orpyramid, and at some distance away against the far wall, as she dimlydiscovered by the lamp that stood upon the altar, cut in relief uponthat wall indeed, a colossal cross to which, vigorously if rudelyexecuted in white stone, hung the image of Christ crucified, the crownof thorns upon His drooping head. Now she understood. Whatever may havebeen the first worship to which this place was dedicated, Christianshad usurped it, and set up here the sacred symbol of their faith, awful enough to look upon in such surroundings. Doubtless, also, theshell-shaped basin at the entrance had served the worshippers in thisunderground chapel as a stoup for holy water. 

The Molimo lifted the lamp from the altar, and having adjusted itswick, held it up in front of the rood before which, although she was noCatholic, Benita bowed her head and crossed herself, while he watchedher curiously. Then he lowered it, and she perceived that on thecemented floor lay great numbers of shrouded forms that at first lookedto her like folk asleep. He stepped to one of them and touched it withhis foot, whereon the cloth which with it was covered crumbled intodust, revealing beneath a white skeleton. 

All those sleepers rested well indeed, for they had been dead at leasttwo hundred years. There they lay--men, women, and children, though ofthe last but few. Some of them had ornaments on their bones, some wereclad in armour, and by all the men were swords, or spears, or knives, and here and there what she took to be primitive fire-arms. Certainof them also had turned into mummies in that dry air--grotesque anddreadful objects from which she gladly averted her eyes. 

The Molimo led her forward to the foot of the crucifix, where, uponits lowest step and upon the cemented floor immediately beneath itrespectively, lay two shapes decorously covered with shawls of someheavy material interwoven with gold wire, for the manufacture of whichthe Makalanga were famous when first the Portuguese came into contactwith them. The Molimo took hold of the cloths that seemed almost asgood now as on the day when they were woven, and lifted them, revealing beneath the figures of a man and woman. The features wereunrecognizable, although the hair, white in the man's case and ravenblack in that of the woman, remained perfect. They had been greatpeople, for orders glittered upon the man's breast, and his sword wasgold hilted, whilst the woman's bones were adorned with costly necklacesand jewels, and in her hand was still a book bound in sheets ofsilver. Benita took it up and looked at it. It was a missal beautifullyilluminated, which doubtless the poor lady had been reading when atlength she sank exhausted into the sleep of death. 

"See the Lord Ferreira and his wife, " said the Molimo, "whom theirdaughter laid thus before she went to join them. " Then, at a motion fromBenita, he covered them up again with their golden cloths. 

"Here they sleep, " he went on in his chanting voice, "a hundred andfifty and three of them--a hundred and fifty and three; and when I dreamin this place at night, I have seen the ghosts of every one of themarise from beside their forms and come gliding down the cave--thehusband with the wife, the child with the mother--to look at me, andask when the maiden returns again to take her heritage and give themburial. "

Benita shuddered; the solemn awfulness of the place and scene oppressedher. She began to think that she, too, saw those ghosts. 

"It is enough, " she said. "Let us be going. "

So they went, and the pitiful, agonized Christ upon the cross, at whichshe glanced from time to time over her shoulder, faded to a white blot, then vanished away in the darkness, through which, from generation togeneration, it kept its watch above the dead, those dead that in theirdespair once had cried to it for mercy, and bedewed its feet with tears. 

Glad, oh! glad was she when she had left that haunted place behind her, and saw the wholesome light again. 

"What have you seen?" asked her father and Meyer, in one breath, as theynoted her white and frightened face. 

She sank upon a stone seat at the entrance of the cave, and before shecould open her lips the Molimo answered for her:

"The maiden has seen the dead. The Spirit who goes with her has givengreeting to its dead that it left so long ago. The maiden has donereverence to the White One who hangs upon the cross, and asked ablessing and a pardon of Him, as she whose Spirit goes with her didreverence before the eyes of my forefathers, and asked a blessing and apardon ere she cast herself away. " And he pointed to the little goldencrucifix which hung upon Benita's bosom, attached to the necklace whichTamas, the messenger, had given her at Rooi Krantz. 

"Now, " he went on, "now the spell is broken, and the sleepers mustdepart to sleep elsewhere. Enter, white men; enter, if you dare, and askfor pardon and for blessing if it may be found, and gather up the drybones and take the treasure that was theirs, if it may be found, andconquer the curse that goes with the treasure for all save one, ifyou can, if you can, if you can! Rest you here, maiden, in the sweetsunshine, and follow me, white men; follow me into the dark of the deadto seek for that which the white men love. " And once more he vanisheddown the passage, turning now and again to beckon to them, while theywent after him as though drawn against their wish. For now, at the lastmoment, some superstitious fear spread from him to them, and showeditself in their eyes. 

To Benita, half fainting upon the stone seat, for this experience hadshaken her to the heart, it seemed but a few minutes, though reallythe best part of an hour had gone by, when her father reappeared aswhite-faced as she had been. 

"Where is Mr. Meyer?" she asked. 

"Oh!" he answered. "He is collecting all the golden ornaments off thosepoor bodies, and tumbling their bones together in a corner of the cave. "

Benita uttered an exclamation of horror. 

"I know what you mean, " said her father. "But, curse the fellow! hehas no reverence, although at first he seemed almost as scared as I wasmyself. He said that as we could not begin our search with all thosecorpses about, they had best be got out of the way as soon as possible. Or perhaps it was because he is really afraid of them, and wanted toprove to himself that they are nothing more than dust. Benita, " went onthe old man, "to tell you the truth, I wish heartily that we had leftthis business alone. I don't believe that any good will come of it, andcertainly it has brought enough trouble already. That old prophet of aMolimo has the second sight, or something like it, and he does not hidehis opinion, but keeps chuckling away in that dreadful place, and pipingout his promises of ill to be. "

"He promised me nothing but good, " said Benita with a little smile. "Though I don't see how it can happen. But if you dislike the thing, father, why not give it up and try to escape?"

"It is too late, dear, " he replied passionately. "Meyer would nevercome, and I can't in honour leave him. Also, I should laugh at myselffor the rest of my life; and, after all, why should we not have the goldif it can be found? It belongs to nobody. We do not get it by robbery, or murder; nuggets are of no use to Portuguese who have been dead twohundred years, and whose heirs, if they have any, it is impossible todiscover. Nor can it matter to them whether they lie about singly asthey died or were placed after death, or piled together in a corner. Ourfears were mere churchyard superstitions, which we have caught from thatghoul of a Molimo. Don't you agree with me?"

"Yes, I suppose so, " answered Benita, "though a fate may cling tocertain things or places, perhaps. At any rate, I think that it is of nouse turning back now, even if we had anywhere to turn, so we may as wellgo through with the venture and await its end. Give me the water-bottle, please. I am thirsty. "

A while later Jacob Meyer appeared, carrying a great bundle of preciousobjects wrapped in one of the gold cere-cloths, which bundle he hid awaybehind a stone. 

"The cave is much tidier now, " he said, as he flicked the thick dustwhich had collected on them during his unhallowed task from his hands, and hair, and garments. Then he drank greedily, and asked:

"Have you two made any plans for our future researches?"

They shook their heads. 

"Well, then, I have. I thought them out while I was bone-carting, andhere they are. It is no use our going down below again; for one thing, the journey is too dangerous, and takes too long; and for another, weare safer up above, where we have plenty to do. "

"But, " said Benita, "how about things to eat and sleep on, and therest?"

"Simple enough, Miss Clifford; we must get them up. The Kaffirs willbring them to the foot of the third wall, and we will haul them to itstop with a rope. Of water it seems there is plenty in that well, whichis fed by a spring a hundred and fifty feet down, and the old chainis still on the roller, so we only need a couple of buckets from thewaggon. Of wood for cooking there is plenty also, growing on the spot;and we can camp in the cave or outside of it, as we like, according tothe state of the weather. Now, do you rest here while I go down. I willbe back in an hour with some of the gear, and then you must help me. "

So he went, and the end of it was that before nightfall they had enoughthings for their immediate needs, and by the second night, workingvery hard, were more or less comfortably established in their strangehabitation. The canvas flap from the waggon was arranged as a tent forBenita, the men sleeping beneath a thick-leaved tree near by. Close athand, under another tree, was their cooking place. The provisions of allsorts, including a couple of cases of square-face and a large supplyof biltong from the slaughtered cattle, they stored with a quantity ofammunition in the mouth of the cave. Fresh meat also was brought tothem daily, and hauled up in baskets--that is, until there was noneto bring--and with it grain for bread, and green mealies to serve asvegetables. Therefore, as the water from the well proved to be excellentand quite accessible, they were soon set up in all things necessary, andto these they added from time to time as opportunity offered. 

In all these preparations the old Molimo took a part, nor, when theywere completed, did he show any inclination to leave them. In themorning he would descend to his people below, but before nightfall healways returned to the cave, where for many years it had been his customto sleep--at any rate several times a week, in the gruesome company ofthe dead Portuguese. Jacob Meyer persuaded Mr. Clifford that his objectwas to spy upon them, and talked of turning him out; but Benita, betweenwhom and the old man had sprung up a curious friendship and sympathy, prevented it, pointing out that they were much safer with the Molimo, as a kind of hostage, than they could be without him; also, that hisknowledge of the place, and of other things, might prove of great helpto them. So in the end he was allowed to remain, as indeed he had aperfect right to do. 

All this while there was no sign of any attack by the Matabele. Indeed, the fear of such a thing was to some extent dying away, and Benita, watching from the top of the wall, could see that their nine remainingoxen, together with the two horses--for that belonging to Jacob Meyerhad died--and the Makalanga goats and sheep, were daily driven out tograze; also, that the women were working in the crops upon the fertilesoil around the lowest wall. Still, a strict watch was kept, and atnight everyone slept within the fortifications; moreover, the drillingof the men and their instruction in the use of firearms went oncontinually under Tamas, who now, in his father's old age, was thevirtual chief of the people. 

It was on the fourth morning that at length, all their preparationsbeing completed, the actual search for the treasure began. First, the Molimo was closely interrogated as to its whereabouts, since theythought that even if he did not know this exactly, some traditions ofthe fact might have descended to him from his ancestors. But he declaredwith earnestness that he knew nothing, save that the Portuguese maidenhad said that it was hidden; nor, he added, had any dream or vision cometo him concerning this matter, in which he took no interest. If it wasthere, it was there; if it was not there, it was not there--it remainedfor the white men to search and see. 

For no very good reason Meyer had concluded that the gold must have beenconcealed in or about the cave, so here it was that they began theirinvestigations. 

First, they bethought them of the well into which it might possiblyhave been thrown, but the fact of this matter proved very difficultto ascertain. Tying a piece of metal--it was an old Portuguesesword-hilt--to a string, they let it down and found that it touchedwater at a depth of one hundred and twenty feet, and bottom at a depthof one hundred and forty-seven feet. Therefore there were twenty-sevenfeet of water. Weighting a bucket they sank it until it rested upon thisbottom, then wound it up again several times. On the third occasion itbrought up a human bone and a wire anklet of pure gold. But this provednothing, except that some ancient, perhaps thousands of years ago, hadbeen thrown, or had fallen, into the well. 

Still unsatisfied, Jacob Meyer, who was a most intrepid person, determined to investigate the place himself, a task of no littledifficulty and danger, since proper ladders were wanting, nor, had theyexisted, was there anything to stand them on. Therefore it came to this:a seat must be rigged on to the end of the old copper chain, and belowered into the pit after the fashion of the bucket. But, as Benitapointed out, although they might let him down, it was possible that theywould not be able to draw him up again, in which case his plight mustprove unfortunate. So, when the seat had been prepared, an experimentwas made with a stone weighing approximately as much as a man. ThisBenita and her father let down easily enough, but, as they anticipated, when it came to winding it up again, their strength was barelysufficient to the task. Three people could do it well, but with two thething was risky. Now Meyer asked--or, rather, commanded--the Molimo toorder some of his men to help him, but this the old chief refused pointblank to do. 

First, he made a number of excuses. They were all employed in drilling, and in watching for the Matabele; they were afraid to venture here, andso forth. At last Meyer grew furious; his eyes flashed, he ground histeeth, and began to threaten. 

"White man, " said the Molimo, when he had done, "it cannot be. I havefulfilled my bargain with you. Search for the gold; find it and take itaway if you can. But this place is holy. None of my tribe, save he whoholds the office of Molimo for the time, may set a foot therein. Killme if you will--I care not; but so it is, and if you kill me, afterwardsthey will kill you. "

Now Meyer, seeing that nothing was to be gained by violence, changed histone, and asked if he himself would help them. 

"I am old, my strength is small, " he replied; "yet I will put my hand tothe chain and do my best. But, if I were you, I would not descend thatpit. "

"Still, I will descend it, and to-morrow, " said Meyer. 

XII

THE BEGINNING OF THE SEARCH

Accordingly, on the next day the great experiment was made. Thechain and ancient winding gear had been tested and proved to be amplysufficient to the strain. Therefore, nothing remained save for Meyerto place himself in the wooden seat with an oil-lamp, and in case thisshould be extinguished, matches and candles, of both of which they had alarge supply. 

He did so boldly enough, and swung out over the mouth of the pit, whilethe three of them clutched the handles of the winch. Then they began tolower, and slowly his white face disappeared into the black depth. Atevery few turns his descent was stopped that he might examine the wallsof the well, and when he was about fifty feet down he called to them tohold on, which they did, listening while he struck at the rock with ahammer, for here it sounded very hollow. 

At length he shouted to them to lower away again, and they obeyed, untilnearly all the chain was out, and they knew he must be near the water. Now Benita, peeping over the edge, saw that the star of light hadvanished. His lamp was out, nor did he appear to attempt to re-light it. They shouted down the well to him, but no answer coming, began to windup as fast as they were able. It was all that their united strengthcould manage, and very exhausted were they when at length Jacobreappeared at the top. At first, from the look of him they thought thathe was dead, and had he not tied himself to the chain, dead he certainlywould have been, for evidently his senses had left him long ago. Indeed, he had fallen almost out of the seat, over which his legs hung limply, his weight being supported by the hide rope beneath his arms which wasmade fast to the chain. 

They swung him in and dashed water over his face, till, to their relief, at last he began to gasp for breath, and revived sufficiently to enablethem to half-lead and half-carry him out into the fresh air. 

"What happened to you?" asked Clifford. 

"Poisoned with gases, I suppose, " Meyer answered with a groan, forhis head was aching sadly. "The air is often bad at the bottom of deepwells, but I could smell or feel nothing until suddenly my senses leftme. It was a near thing--a very near thing. "

Afterwards, when he had recovered a little, he told them that at onespot deep down in the well, on the river side of it, he found a placewhere it looked as though the rock had been cut away for a space ofabout six feet by four, and afterwards built up again with another sortof stone set in hard mortar or cement. Immediately beneath, too, weresocket-holes in which the ends of beams still remained, suggesting thathere had been a floor or platform. It was while he was examining theserotted beams that insensibility overcame him. He added that he thoughtthat this might be the entrance to the place where the gold was hidden. 

"If so, " said Mr. Clifford, "hidden it must remain, since it can have nobetter guardian than bad air. Also, floors like that are common in allwells to prevent rubbish from falling into the water, and the stoneworkyou saw probably was only put there by the ancients to mend a fault inthe rock and prevent the wall from caving in. "

"I hope so, " said Meyer, "since unless that atmosphere purifies a gooddeal I don't think that even I dare go down again, and until one getsthere, of that it is difficult to be sure, though of course a lantern ona string will tell one something. "

This was the end of their first attempt. The search was not reneweduntil the following afternoon, when Meyer had recovered a little fromthe effects of the poisoning and the chafing of the hide ropes beneathhis arms. Indeed, from the former he never did quite recover, sincethenceforward Benita, who for her own reasons watched the man closely, discovered a marked and progressive change in his demeanour. Hitherto hehad appeared to be a reserved man, one who kept tight hand upon himself, and, if she knew certain things about him, it was rather because sheguessed, or deduced them, than because he allowed them to be seen. Ontwo occasions only had he shown his heart before her--when they hadspoken together by the shores of Lake Chrissie on the day of the arrivalof the messengers, and he declared his ardent desire for wealth andpower; and quite recently, when he killed the Matabele envoy. Yet shefelt certain that this heart of his was very passionate and insurgent;that his calm was like the ice that hides the stream, beneath which itscurrents run fiercely, none can see whither. The fashion in which hisdark eyes would flash, even when his pale countenance remained unmoved, told her so, as did other things. 

For instance, when he was recovering from his swoon, the first wordsthat passed his lips were in German, of which she understood a little, and she thought that they shaped themselves to her name, coupled withendearing epithets. From that time forward he became less guarded--or, rather, it seemed as though he were gradually losing power to controlhimself. He would grow excited without apparent cause, and begin todeclaim as to what he would do when he had found the gold; how he wouldpay the world back all it had caused him to suffer--how he would becomea "king. "

"I am afraid that you will find that exalted position rather lonely, "said Benita with a careless laugh, and next minute was sorry that shehad spoken, for he answered, looking at her in a way that she did notlike:

"Oh, no! There will be a queen--a beautiful queen, whom I shall endowwith wealth, and deck with jewels, and surround with love and worship. "

"What a fortunate lady!" she said, still laughing, but taking theopportunity to go away upon some errand. 

At other times, especially after dark, he would walk up and down infront of the cave, muttering to himself, or singing wild old Germansongs in his rich voice. Also, he made a habit of ascending the granitepillar and seating himself there, and more than once called down toher to come up and share his "throne. " Still, these outbreaks were sooccasional that her father, whose perceptions appeared to Benita to beless keen than formerly, scarcely noticed them, and for the rest hisdemeanour was what it had always been. 

Further researches into the well being out of the question, their nextstep was to make a thorough inspection of the chapel-cave itself. Theyexamined the walls inch by inch, tapping them with a hammer to hear ifthey sounded hollow, but without result. They examined the altar, but itproved to be a solid mass of rock. By the help of a little ladder theyhad made, they examined the crucifix, and discovered that the whitefigure on the cross had evidently been fashioned out of some heathenstatue of soft limestone, for at its back were the remains of draperies, and long hair which the artist had not thought it necessary to cut away. Also, they found that the arms had been added, and were of a slightlydifferent stone, and that the weight of the figure was taken partly byan iron staple which supported the body, and partly by strong copperwire twisted to resemble cord, and painted white, which was passed roundthe wrists and supported the arms. This wire ran through loops of rockcut in the traverse of the cross, that itself was only raised in reliefby chiselling away the solid stone behind. 

Curiously enough, this part of the search was left to Mr. Clifford andBenita, since it was one that Jacob Meyer seemed reluctant to undertake. A Jew by birth, and a man who openly professed his want of belief inthat or any other religion, he yet seemed to fear this symbol of theChristian faith, speaking of it as horrible and unlucky; yes, he who, without qualm or remorse, had robbed and desecrated the dead thatlay about its feet. Well, the crucifix told them nothing; but as Mr. Clifford, lantern in hand, descended the ladder, which Benita held, Jacob Meyer, who was in front of the altar, called to them excitedlythat he had found something. 

"Then it is more than we have, " said Mr. Clifford, as he laid down theladder and hurried to him. 

Meyer was sounding the floor with a staff of wood--an operation which hehad only just began after the walls proved barren. 

"Listen now, " he said, letting the heavy staff drop a few paces to theright of the altar, where it produced the hard, metallic clang thatcomes from solid stone when struck. Then he moved to the front of thealtar and dropped it again, but now the note was hollow and reverberant. Again and again he repeated the experiment, till they had exactlymapped out where the solid rock ended and that which seemed to be hollowbegan--a space of about eight feet square. 

"We've got it, " he said triumphantly. "That's the entrance to the placewhere the gold is, " and the others were inclined to agree with him. 

Now it remained to put their theory to the proof--a task of no smalldifficulty. Indeed, it took them three days of hard, continual work. It will be remembered that the floor of the cave was cemented over, andfirst of all this cement, which proved to be of excellent quality, beinglargely composed of powdered granite, must be broken up. By the helpof a steel crowbar, which they had brought with them in the waggon, at length that part of their task was completed, revealing the rockbeneath. By this time Benita was confident that, whatever might liebelow, it was not the treasure, since it was evident that the poor, dying Portuguese would not have had the time or the strength to cementit over. When she told the others so, however, Meyer, convinced thathe was on the right tack, answered that doubtless it was done by theMakalanga after the Portuguese days, as it was well known that theyretained a knowledge of the building arts of their forefathers untilquite a recent period, when the Matabele began to kill them out. 

When at length the cement was cleared away and the area swept, theydiscovered--for there ran the line of it--that here a great stone wasset into the floor; it must have weighed several tons. As it was set incement, however, to lift it, even if they had the strength to work thenecessary levers, proved quite impossible. There remained only one thingto be done--to cut a way through. When they had worked at this task forseveral hours, and only succeeded in making a hole six inches deep, Mr. Clifford, whose old bones ached and whose hands were verysore, suggested that perhaps they might break it up with gunpowder. Accordingly, a pound flask of that explosive was poured into the hole, which they closed over with wet clay and a heavy rock, leaving aquill through which ran an extemporized fuse of cotton wick. All beingprepared, their fuse was lit, and they left the cave and waited. 

Five minutes afterwards the dull sound of an explosion reached theirears, but more than an hour went by before the smoke and fumes wouldallow them to enter the place, and then it was to find that the resultsdid not equal their expectations. To begin with, the slab was onlycracked--not shattered, since the strength of the powder had beenexpended upwards, not downwards, as would have happened in the case ofdynamite, of which they had none. Moreover, either the heavy stonewhich they had placed upon it, striking the roof of the cave, or theconcussion of the air, had brought down many tons of rock, and causedwide and dangerous-looking cracks. Also, though she said nothing of it, it seemed to Benita that the great white statue on the cross was leaninga little further forward than it used to do. So the net result of theexperiment was that they were obliged to drag away great fragments ofthe fallen roof that lay upon the stone, which remained almost as solidand obdurate as before. 

So there was nothing for it but to go on working with the crowbar. Atlength, towards the evening of the third day of their labour, when thetwo men were utterly tired out, a hole was broken through, demonstratingthe fact that beneath this cover lay a hollow of some sort. Mr. Clifford, to say nothing of Benita, who was heartily weary of thebusiness, wished to postpone proceedings till the morrow, but JacobMeyer would not. So they toiled on until about eleven o'clock at night, when at length the aperture was of sufficient size to admit a man. Now, as in the case of the well, they let down a stone tied to a string, tofind that the place beneath was not more than eight feet deep. Then, toascertain the condition of the air, a candle was lowered, which at firstwent out, but presently burnt well enough. This point settled, theybrought their ladder, whereby Jacob descended with a lantern. 

In another minute they heard the sound of guttural German oaths risingthrough the hole. Mr. Clifford asked what was the matter, and receivedthe reply that the place was a tomb, with nothing in it but an accurseddead monk, information at which Benita could not help bursting intolaughter. 

The end of it was that both she and her father went down also, andthere, sure enough, lay the remains of the old missionary in his cowl, with an ivory crucifix about his neck, and on his breast a scrollstating that he, Marco, born at Lisbon in 1438, had died at Bambatse inthe year 1503, having laboured in the Empire of Monomotapa for seventeenyears, and suffered great hardships and brought many souls to Christ. The scroll added that it was he, who before he entered into religion wasa sculptor by trade, that had fashioned the figure on the cross in thischapel out of that of the heathen goddess which had stood in the sameplace from unknown antiquity. It ended with a request, addressed to allgood Christians in Latin, that they who soon must be as he was wouldpray for his soul and not disturb his bones, which rested here in thehope of a blessed resurrection. 

When this pious wish was translated to Jacob Meyer by Mr. Clifford, whostill retained some recollection of the classics which he had painfullyacquired at Eton and Oxford, the Jew could scarcely contain his wrath. Indeed, looking at his bleeding hands, instead of praying for the soulof that excellent missionary, to reach whose remains he had labouredwith such arduous, incessant toil, he cursed it wherever it might be, and unceremoniously swept the bones, which the document asked him not todisturb, into a corner of the tomb, in order to ascertain whether therewas not, perhaps, some stair beneath them. 

"Really, Mr. Meyer, " said Benita, who, in spite of the solemnity of thesurroundings, could not control her sense of humour, "if you are notcareful the ghosts of all these people will haunt you. "

"Let them haunt me if they can, " he answered furiously. "I don't believein ghosts, and defy them all. "

At this moment, looking up, Benita saw a figure gliding out of thedarkness into the ring of light, so silently that she started, for itmight well have been one of those ghosts in whom Jacob Meyer did notbelieve. In fact, however, it was the old Molimo, who had a habit ofcoming upon them thus. 

"What says the white man?" he asked of Benita, while his dreamy eyeswandered over the three of them, and the hole in the violated tomb. 

"He says that he does not believe in spirits, and that he defies them, "she answered. 

"The white gold-seeker does not believe in spirits, and he defies them, "Mambo repeated in his sing-song voice. "He does not believe in thespirits that I see all around me now, the angry spirits of the dead, who speak together of where he shall lie and of what shall happen tohim when he is dead, and of how they will welcome one who disturbs theirrest and defies and curses them in his search for the riches which heloves. There is one standing by him now, dressed in a brown robe with adead man cut in ivory like to that, " and he pointed to the crucifix inJacob's hands, "and he holds the ivory man above him and threatens himwith sleepless centuries of sorrow, when he is also one of those spiritsin which he does not believe. "

Then Meyer's rage blazed out. He turned upon the Molimo and reviledhim in his own tongue, saying that he knew well where the treasure washidden, and that if he did not point it out he would kill him and sendhim to his friends, the spirits. So savage and evil did he look thatBenita retreated a little way, while Mr. Clifford strove in vain to calmhim. But although Meyer laid his hand upon the knife in his belt andadvanced upon him, the old Molimo neither budged an inch nor showed theslightest fear. 

"Let him rave on, " he said, when at length Meyer paused exhausted. "Justso in a time of storm the lightnings flash and the thunder peals, andthe water foams down the face of rock; but then comes the sun again, andthe hill is as it has ever been, only the storm is spent and lost. Iam the rock, he is but the wind, the fire, and the rain. It is notpermitted that he should hurt me, and those spirits in whom he does notbelieve treasure up his curses, to let them fall again like stones uponhis head. "

Then, with a contemptuous glance at Jacob, the old man turned and glidedback into the darkness out of which he had appeared. 

XIII

BENITA PLANS ESCAPE

The next morning, while she was cooking breakfast, Benita saw JacobMeyer seated upon a rock at a little distance, sullen and disconsolate. His chin was resting on his hand, and he watched her intently, nevertaking his eyes from her face. She felt that he was concentrating hiswill upon her; that some new idea concerning her had come into hismind; for it was one of her miseries that she possessed the power ofinterpreting the drift of this man's thoughts. Much as she detested him, there existed that curious link between them. 

It may be remembered that, on the night when they first met at the crestof Leopard's Kloof, Jacob had called her a "thought-sender, " and someknowledge of their mental intimacy had come home to Benita. From thatday forward her chief desire had been to shut a door between theirnatures, to isolate herself from him and him from her. Yet the attemptwas never entirely successful. 

Fear and disgust took hold of her, bending there above the fire, allthe while aware of the Jew's dark eyes that searched her through andthrough. Benita formed a sudden determination. She would implore herfather to come away with her. 

Of course, such an attempt would be terribly dangerous. Of the Matabelenothing had been seen; but they might be about, and even if enoughcattle could be collected to draw the waggon, it belonged to Meyer asmuch as to her father, and must therefore be left for him. Still, thereremained the two horses, which the Molimo had told her were well andgetting fat. 

At this moment Meyer rose and began to speak to her. 

"What are you thinking of, Miss Clifford?" he asked in his soft foreignvoice. 

She started, but answered readily enough:

"Of the wood which is green, and the kid cutlets which are gettingsmoked. Are you not tired of kid, Mr. Meyer?" she went on. 

He waved the question aside. "You are so good--oh! I mean it--so reallygood that you should not tell stories even about small things. The woodis not green; I cut it myself from a dead tree; and the meat is notsmoked; nor were you thinking of either. You were thinking of me, as Iwas thinking of you; but what exactly was in your mind, this time I donot know, and that is why I ask you to tell me. "

"Really, Mr. Meyer, " she answered flushing; "my mind is my ownproperty. "

"Ah! do you say so? Now I hold otherwise--that it is my property, asmine is yours, a gift that Nature has given to each of us. "

"I seek no such gift, " she answered; but even then, much as she wouldhave wished to do so, she could not utter a falsehood, and deny thishorrible and secret intimacy. 

"I am sorry for that, as I think it very precious; more precious eventhan the gold which we cannot find; for Miss Clifford, it brings menearer you. "

She turned upon him, but he held up his hand, and went on:

"Oh! do not be angry with me, and do not fear that I am going to troubleyou with soft speeches, for I shall not, unless a time should come, asI think that perhaps it will, when you may wish to listen to them. But Iwant to point out something to you, Miss Clifford. Is it not a wonderfulthing that our minds should be so in tune, and is there not an objectin all this? Did I believe as you do, I should say that it was Heavenworking in us--no: do not answer that the working comes from lower down. I take no credit for reading that upon your lips; the retort is tooeasy and obvious. I am content to say, however, that the work is thatof instinct and nature, or, if you will, of fate, pointing out a road bywhich together we might travel to great ends. "

"I travel my road alone, Mr. Meyer. "

"I know, I know, and that is the pity of it. The trouble between man andwoman is that not in one case out of a million, even if they be lovers, do they understand each other. Their eyes may seek one another, theirhands and lips may meet, and yet they remain distinct, apart, and oftenantagonistic. There is no communication of the soul. But when it chancesto be hewn from the same rock as it were--oh! then what happiness may betheirs, and what opportunities!"

"Possibly, Mr. Meyer; but, to be frank, the question does not interestme. "

"Not yet; but I am sure that one day it will. Meanwhile, I owe you anapology. I lost my temper before you last night. Well, do not judge mehardly, for I was utterly worn out, and that old idiot vexed me with histalk about ghosts, in which I do not believe. "

"Then why did it make you so angry? Surely you could have afforded totreat it with contempt, instead of doing--as you did. "

"Upon my word! I don't know, but I suppose most of us are afraid lest weshould be forced to accept that which we refuse. This ancient place getsupon the nerves, Miss Clifford; yours as well as mine. I can affordto be open about it, because I know that you know. Think of itsassociations: all the crime that has been committed here for ages andages, all the suffering that has been endured here. Doubtless humansacrifices were offered in this cave or outside of it; that great burntring in the rock there may have been where they built the fires. Andthen those Portuguese starving to death, slowly starving to death whilethousands of savages watched them die. Have you ever thought what itmeans? But of course you have, for like myself you are cursed withimagination. God in heaven! is it wonderful that it gets upon thenerves? especially when one cannot find what one is looking for, thatvast treasure"--and his face became ecstatic--"that shall yet be yoursand mine, and make us great and happy. "

"But which at present only makes me a scullery-maid and most unhappy, "replied Benita cheerfully, for she heard her father's footstep. "Don'ttalk any more of the treasure, Mr. Meyer, or we shall quarrel. We haveenough of that during business hours, when we are hunting for it, youknow. Give me the dish, will you? This meat is cooked at last. "

Still Benita could not be rid of that treasure, since after breakfastthe endless, unprofitable search began again. Once more the cave wassounded, and other hollow places were discovered upon which the two mengot to work. With infinite labour three of them were broken into in asmany days, and like the first, found to be graves, only this time ofancients who, perhaps, had died before Christ was born. There they layupon their sides, their bones burnt by the hot cement that had beenpoured over them, their gold-headed and gold-ferruled rods of office intheir hands, their gold-covered pillows of wood, such as the Egyptiansused, beneath their skulls, gold bracelets upon their arms and ankles, cakes of gold beneath them which had fallen from the rotted pouches thatonce hung about their waists, vases of fine glazed pottery that hadbeen filled with offerings, or in some cases with gold dust to pay theexpenses of their journey in the other world, standing round them, andso forth. 

In their way these discoveries were rich enough--from one tomb alonethey took over a hundred and thirty ounces of gold--to say nothing oftheir surpassing archæological interest. Still they were not whatthey sought: all that gathered wealth of Monomotapa which the fleeingPortuguese had brought with them and buried in this, their laststronghold. 

Benita ceased to take the slightest interest in the matter; she wouldnot even be at the pains to go to look at the third skeleton, althoughit was that of a man who had been almost a giant, and, to judge from theamount of bullion which he took to the tomb with him, a person ofgreat importance in his day. She felt as though she wished never to seeanother human bone or ancient bead or bangle; the sight of a streetin Bayswater in a London fog--yes, or a toy-shop window in WestbourneGrove--would have pleased her a hundred times better than these uniqueremains that, had they known of them in those days, would have sent halfthe learned societies of Europe crazy with delight. She wished to escapefrom Bambatse, its wondrous fortifications, its mysterious cone, itscave, its dead, and--from Jacob Meyer. 

Benita stood upon the top of her prison wall and looked with longing atthe wide, open lands below. She even dared to climb the stairs whichran up the mighty cone of granite, and seated herself in the cup-likedepression on its crest, whence Jacob Meyer had called to her to comeand share his throne. It was a dizzy place, for the pillar leaningoutwards, its point stood almost clear of the water-scarped rock, sothat beneath her was a sheer drop of about four hundred feet to theZambesi bed. At first the great height made her feel faint. Her eyesswam, and unpleasant tremors crept along her spine, so that she was gladto sink to the floor, whence she knew she could not fall. By degrees, however, she recovered her nerve, and was able to study the gloriousview of stream and marshes and hills beyond. 

For she had come here with a purpose, to see whether it would not bepossible to escape down the river in a canoe, or in native boats such asthe Makalanga owned and used for fishing, or to cross from bank to bank. Apparently it was impossible, for although the river beneath andabove them was still enough, about a mile below began a cataract thatstretched as far as she could see, and was bordered on either side byrocky hills covered with forest, over which, even if they could obtainporters, a canoe could not be carried. This, indeed, she had alreadyheard from the Molimo, but knowing his timid nature, she wished to judgeof the matter for herself. It came to this then: if they were to go, itmust be on the horses. 

Descending the cone Benita went to find her father, to whom as yet shehad said nothing of her plans. The opportunity was good, for she knewthat he would be alone. As it chanced, on that afternoon Meyer had gonedown the hill in order to try to persuade the Makalanga to give themten or twenty men to help them in their excavations. In this, it willbe remembered, he had already failed so far as the Molimo was concerned, but he was not a man easily turned from his purpose, and he thought thatif he could see Tamas and some of the other captains he might be ableby bribery, threats, or otherwise, to induce them to forget theirsuperstitious fears, and help in the search. As a matter of fact, he wasutterly unsuccessful, since one and all they declared that for them toenter that sacred place would mean their deaths, and that the vengeanceof Heaven would fall upon their tribe and destroy it root and branch. 

Mr. Clifford, on whom all this heavy labour had begun to tell, wastaking advantage of the absence of his taskmaster, Jacob, to sleepawhile in the hut which they had now built for themselves beneath theshadow of the baobab-tree. As she reached it he came out yawning, andasked her where she had been. Benita told him. 

"A giddy place, " he said. "I have never ventured to try it myself. Whatdid you go up there for, dear?"

"To look at the river while Mr. Meyer was away, father; for if he hadseen me do so he would have guessed my reason; indeed, I dare say thathe will guess it now. "

"What reason, Benita?"

"To see whether it would not be possible to escape down it in a boat. But there is no chance. It is all rapids below, with hills and rocks andtrees on either bank. "

"What need have you to escape at present?" he asked eyeing hercuriously. 

"Every need, " she answered with passion. "I hate this place; it is aprison, and I loathe the very name of treasure. Also, " and she paused. 

"Also what, dear?"

"Also, " and her voice sank to a whisper, as though she feared that heshould overhear her even at the bottom of the hill; "also, I am afraidof Mr. Meyer. "

This confession did not seem to surprise her father, who merely noddedhis head and said:

"Go on. "

"Father, I think that he is going mad, and it is not pleasant for us tobe cooped up here alone with a madman, especially when he has begun tospeak to me as he does now. "

"You don't mean that he has been impertinent to you, " said the old man, flushing up, "for if so----"

"No, not impertinent--as yet, " and she told him what had passed betweenMeyer and herself, adding, "You see, father, I detest this man; indeed, I want to have nothing to do with any man; for me all that is over anddone with, " and she gave a dry little sob which appeared to come fromher very heart. "And yet, he seems to be getting some kind of power overme. He follows me about with his eyes, prying into my mind, and I feelthat he is beginning to be able to read it. I can bear no more. Father, father, for God's sake, take me away from this hateful hill and its goldand its dead, and let us get out into the veld again together. "

"I should be glad enough, dearest, " he answered. "I have had plenty ofthis wildgoose chase, which I was so mad as to be led into by the loveof wealth. Indeed, I am beginning to believe that if it goes on muchlonger I shall leave my bones here. "

"And if such a dreadful thing as that were to happen, what would becomeof me, alone with Jacob Meyer?" she asked quietly. "I might even bedriven to the same fate as that poor girl two hundred years ago, " andshe pointed to the cone of rock behind her. 

"For Heaven's sake, don't talk like that!" he broke in. 

"Why not? One must face things, and it would be better than Jacob Meyer;for who would protect me here?"

Mr. Clifford walked up and down for a few minutes, while his daughterwatched him anxiously. 

"I can see no plan, " he said, stopping opposite her. "We cannot take thewaggon even if there are enough oxen left to draw it, for it is hisas much as mine, and I am sure that he will never leave this treasureunless he is driven away. "

"And I am sure I hope that he will not. But, father, the horses are ourown; it was his that died, you remember. We can ride away on them. "

He stared at her and answered:

"Yes, we could ride away to our deaths. Suppose they got sick or lame;suppose we meet the Matabele, or could find no game to shoot; supposeone of us fell ill--oh! and a hundred things. What then?"

"Why, then it is just as well to perish in the wilderness as here, whereour risks are almost as great. We must take our chance, and trustto God. Perhaps He will be merciful and help us. Listen now, father. To-morrow is Sunday, when you and I do no work that we can help. Mr. Meyer is a Jew, and he won't waste Sunday. Well now, I will say that Iwant to go down to the outer wall to fetch some clothes which I leftin the waggon, and to take others for the native women to wash, andof course you will come with me. Perhaps he will be deceived, and staybehind, especially as he has been there to-day. Then we can get thehorses and guns and ammunition, and anything else that we can carry inthe way of food, and persuade the old Molimo to open the gate for us. You know, the little side gate that cannot be seen from up here, andbefore Mr. Meyer misses us and comes to look, we shall be twenty milesaway, and--horses can't be overtaken by a man on foot. "

"He will say that we have deserted him, and that will be true. "

"You can leave a letter with the Molimo explaining that it was my fault, that I was getting ill and thought that I should die, and that you knewit would not be fair to ask him to come, and so to lose the treasure, to every halfpenny of which he is welcome when it is found. Oh! father, don't hesitate any longer; say that you will take me away from Mr. Meyer. "

"So be it then, " answered Mr. Clifford, and as he spoke, hearing asound, they looked up and saw Jacob approaching them. 

Luckily he was so occupied with his own thoughts that he never noted theguilty air upon their faces, and they had time to compose themselves alittle. But even thus his suspicions were aroused. 

"What are you talking of so earnestly?" he asked. 

"We were wondering how you were getting on with the Makalanga, " answeredBenita, fibbing boldly, "and whether you would persuade them to face theghosts. Did you?"

"Not I, " he answered with a scowl. "Those ghosts are our worst enemiesin this place; the cowards swore that they would rather die. I shouldhave liked to take some of them at their word and make ghosts ofthem; but I remembered the situation and didn't. Don't be afraid, MissClifford, I never even lost my temper, outwardly at any rate. Well, there it is; if they won't help us, we must work the harder. I've got anew plan, and we'll begin on it to-morrow. "

"Not to-morrow, Mr. Meyer, " replied Benita with a smile. "It is Sunday, and we rest on Sunday, you know. "

"Oh! I forgot. The Makalanga with their ghosts and you with yourSunday--really I do not know which is the worse. Well, then, I must domy own share and yours too, I suppose, " and he turned with a shrug ofhis shoulders. 

XIV

THE FLIGHT

The next morning, Sunday, Meyer went to work on his new plan. What itwas Benita did not trouble to inquire, but she gathered that it hadsomething to do with the measuring out of the chapel cave into squaresfor the more systematic investigation of each area. At twelve o'clock heemerged for his midday meal, in the course of which he remarked that itwas very dreary working in that place alone, and that he would be gladwhen it was Monday, and they could accompany him. His words evidentlydisturbed Mr. Clifford not a little, and even excited some compunctionin the breast of Benita. 

What would his feelings be, she wondered, when he found that theyhad run away, leaving him to deal with their joint undertakingsingle-handed! Almost was she minded to tell him the whole truth;yet--and this was a curious evidence of the man's ascendancy overher--she did not. Perhaps she felt that to do so would be to put an endto their scheme, since then by argument, blandishments, threats, force, or appeal to their sense of loyalty, it mattered not which, he wouldbring about its abandonment. But she wanted to fulfil that scheme, tobe free of Bambatse, its immemorial ruins, its graveyard cave, andthe ghoul, Jacob Meyer, who could delve among dead bones and in livinghearts with equal skill and insight, and yet was unable to find thetreasure that lay beneath either of them. 

So they hid the truth, and talked with feverish activity about otherthings, such as the drilling of the Makalanga, and the chances of anattack by the Matabele, which happily now seemed to be growing small;also of the conditions of their cattle, and the prospect of obtainingmore to replace those that had died. Indeed, Benita went farther; in hernew-found zeal of deception she proceeded to act a lie, yes, even withher father's reproachful eyes fixed upon her. Incidentally she mentionedthat they were going to have an outing, to climb down the ladder andvisit the Makalanga camp between the first and second walls and mix withthe great world for a few hours; also to carry their washing to be donethere, and bring up some clean clothes and certain books which she hadleft below. 

Jacob came out of his thoughts and calculations, and listened gloomily. 

"I have half a mind to come with you, " he said, words at which Benitashivered. "It certainly is most cursed lonesome in that cave, and I seemto hear things in it, as though those old bones were rattling, soundslike sighs and whispers too, which are made by the draught. "

"Well, why don't you?" asked Benita. 

It was a bold stroke, but it succeeded. If he had any doubts theyvanished, and he answered at once:

"Because I have not the time. We have to get this business finished oneway or another before the wet season comes on, and we are drowned out ofthe place with rain, or rotted by fever. Take your afternoon out, MissClifford; every maid of all work is entitled to as much, and I am afraidthat is your billet here. Only, " he added, with that care for her safetywhich he always showed in his more temperate moods, "pray be careful, Clifford, to get back before sundown. That wall is too risky for yourdaughter to climb in the dusk. Call me from the foot of it; you have thewhistle, and I will come down to help her up. I think I'll go with youafter all. No, I won't. I made myself so unpleasant to them yesterdaythat those Makalanga can't wish to see any more of me at present. I hopeyou will have a more agreeable afternoon than I shall. Why don't youtake a ride outside the wall? Your horses are fat and want exercise, andI do not think that you need be afraid of the Matabele. " Then withoutwaiting for an answer, he rose and left them. 

Mr. Clifford looked after him doubtfully. 

"Oh, I know, " said Benita, "it seems horribly mean, but one must doshabby things sometimes. Here are the bundles all ready, so let us beoff. "

Accordingly they went, and from the top of the wall Benita glanced backto bid goodbye to that place which she hoped never to see again. Yet shecould not feel as though she looked her last upon it; to her it woreno air of farewell, and even as she descended the perilous stairs, shefound herself making mental notes as to how they might best be climbedagain. Also, she could not believe that she had done with Mr. Meyer. Itseemed to her as though for a long while yet her future would be full ofhim. 

They reached the outer fortifications in safety, and there were greetedwith some surprise but with no displeasure by the Makalanga, whom theyfound still drilling with the rifles, in the use of which a certainnumber of them appeared to have become fairly proficient. Going tothe hut in which the spare goods from the waggon had been stored, theyquickly made their preparations. Here also, Mr. Clifford wrote a letter, one of the most unpleasant that he had ever been called upon to compose. It ran thus:

"Dear Meyer, "I don't know what you will think of us, but we are escaping from thisplace. The truth is that I am not well, and my daughter can bear it nolonger. She says that if she stops here, she will die, and that huntingfor treasure in that ghastly grave-yard is shattering her nerves. Ishould have liked to tell you, but she begged me not, being convincedthat if I did, you would over-persuade us or stop us in some way. As forthe gold, if you can find it, take it all. I renounce my share. We areleaving you the waggon and the oxen, and starting down country on ourhorses. It is a perilous business, but less so than staying here, underthe circumstances. If we never meet again we hope that you will forgiveus, and wish you all good fortune. --Yours sincerely and with muchregret, "T. Clifford. "

The letter written, they saddled the horses which had been brought upfor their inspection, and were found to be in good case, and fastenedtheir scanty belongings, and as many cartridges as they could carry inpacks behind their saddles. Then, each of them armed with a rifle--forduring their long journeyings Benita had learned to shoot--they mountedand made for the little side-entrance, as the main gate through whichthey had passed on their arrival was now built up. This side-entrance, amere slit in the great wall, with a precipitous approach, was open, fornow that their fear of the Matabele had to some extent passed off, theMakalanga used it to drive their sheep and goats in and out, since itwas so constructed with several twists and turns in the thickness of thewall, that in a few minutes it could be effectually blocked by stonesthat lay at hand. Also, the ancient architect had arranged it in sucha fashion that it was entirely commanded from the crest of the wall oneither side. 

The Makalanga, who had been watching their proceedings curiously, madeno attempt to stop them, although they guessed that they might have alittle trouble with the sentries who guarded the entrances all day, andeven when it was closed at night, with whom also Mr. Clifford proposedto leave the letter. When they reached the place, however, and haddismounted to lead the horses down the winding passage and the steepascent upon its further side, it was to find that the only guard visibleproved to be the old Molimo himself, who sat there, apparently halfasleep. 

But as they came he showed himself to be very much awake, for withoutmoving he asked them at once whither they were going. 

"To take a ride, " answered Mr. Clifford. "The lady, my daughter, isweary of being cooped up in this fortress, and wishes to breathe the airwithout. Let us pass, friend, or we shall not be back by sunset. "

"If you be coming back at sunset, white man, why do you carry somany things upon your packs, and why are your saddle-bags filled withcartridges?" he asked. "Surely you do not speak the truth to me, and youhope that never more will you see the sun set upon Bambatse. "

Now understanding that it was hopeless to deceive him, Benita exclaimedboldly:

"It is so; but oh! my Father, stay us not, for fear is behind us, andtherefore we fly hence. "

"And is there no fear before you, maiden? Fear of the wilderness, wherenone wander save perchance the Amandabele with their bloody spears; fearof wild beasts and of sickness that may overtake you so that, first oneand then the other, you perish there?"

"There is plenty, my Father, but none of them so bad as the fear behind. Yonder place is haunted, and we give up our search and would dwell thereno more. "

"It is haunted truly, maiden, but its spirits will not harm you whomthey welcome as one appointed, and we are ever ready to protect youbecause of their command that has come to me in dreams. Nor, indeed, isit the spirits whom you fear, but rather the white man, your companion, who would bend you to his will. Deny it not, for I have seen it all. "

"Then knowing the truth, surely you will let us go, " she pleaded, "for Iswear to you that I dare not stay. "

"Who am I that I should forbid you?" he asked. "Yet I tell you that youwould do well to stay and save yourselves much terror. Maiden, haveI not said it days and day ago, that here and here only you mustaccomplish your fate? Go now if you will, but you shall return again, "and once more he seemed to begin to doze in the sun. 

The two of them consulted hastily together. 

"It is no use turning back now, " said Benita, who was almost weepingwith doubt and vexation. "I will not be frightened by his vague talk. What can he know of the future more than any of the rest of us? Besides, all he says is that we shall come back again, and if that does happen, at least we shall have been free for a little while. Come, father. "

"As you wish, " answered Mr. Clifford, who seemed too miserable anddepressed to argue. Only he threw down the letter upon the Molimo's lap, and begged him to give it to Meyer when he came to look for them. 

The old man took no notice; no, not even when Benita bade him farewelland thanked him for his kindness, praying that all good fortune mightattend him and his tribe, did he answer a single word or even lookup. So they led their horses down the narrow passage where there wasscarcely room for them to pass, and up the steep path beyond. Onthe further side of the ancient ditch they remounted them while theMakalanga watched them from the walls, and cantered away along the sameroad by which they had come. 

Now this road, or rather track, ran first through the gardens and thenamong the countless ruined houses that in bygone ages formed the greatcity whereof the mount Bambatse had been the citadel and sanctuary. The relics of a lost civilization extended for several miles, and werebounded by a steep and narrow neck or pass in the encircling hills, thesame that Robert Seymour and his brother had found too difficult fortheir waggon at the season in which they visited the place some yearsbefore. This pass, or port as it is called in South Africa, had beenstrongly fortified, for on either side of it were the ruins of towers. Moreover, at its crest it was so narrow and steep-sided that a few menposted there, even if they were armed only with bows and arrows, couldhold an attacking force in check for a considerable time. Beyond it, after the hill was descended, a bush-clad plain dotted with kopjes andisolated granite pillars formed of boulders piled one upon another, rolled away for many miles. 

Mr. Clifford and Benita had started upon their mad journey about threeo'clock in the afternoon, and when the sun began to set they foundthemselves upon this plain fifteen or sixteen miles from Bambatse, ofwhich they had long lost sight, for it lay beyond the intervening hills. Near to them was a kopje, where they had outspanned by a spring of waterwhen on their recent journey, and since they did not dare to travel inthe dark, here they determined to off-saddle, for round this spring wasgood grass for the horses. 

As it chanced, they came upon some hartebeeste here which were trekkingdown to drink, but although they would have been glad of meat, they wereafraid to shoot, fearing lest they should attract attention; nor for thesame reason did they like to light a fire. So having knee-haltered thehorses in such fashion that they could not wander far, and turned themloose to feed, they sat down under a tree, and made some sort of a mealoff the biltong and cooked corn which they had brought with them. By thetime this was finished darkness fell, for there was little moon, so thatnothing remained to do except to sleep within a circle of a few deadthorn-boughs which they had drawn about their camp. This, then, theydid, and so weary were they both, that notwithstanding all the emotionsthrough which they had passed, and their fears lest lions should attackthem--for of these brutes there were many in this veld--rested soundlyand undisturbed till within half an hour of dawn. 

Rising somewhat chilled, for though the air was warm a heavy dew hadsoaked their blankets, once more they ate and drank by starlight, whilethe horses, which they had tied up close to them during the night, filled themselves with grass. At the first break of day they saddledthem, and before the sun rose were on their road again. At length upit came, and the sight and warmth of it put new heart into Benita. Herfears seemed to depart with the night, and she said to her father thatthis successful start was of good augury, to which he only answered thathe hoped so. 

All that day they rode forward in beautiful weather, not pressing theirhorses, for now they were sure that Jacob Meyer, who if he followed atall must do so on foot, would never be able to overtake them. At noonthey halted, and having shot a small buck, Benita cooked some of it inthe one pot that they had brought with them, and they ate a good meal offresh meat. 

Riding on again, towards sundown they came to another of their oldcamping-places, also a bush-covered kopje. Here the spring of waterwas more than halfway up the hill, so there they off-saddled in a greenbower of a place that because of its ferns and mosses looked like a rockgarden. Now, although they had enough cold meat for food, they thoughtthemselves quite safe in lighting a fire. Indeed, this it seemednecessary to do, since they had struck the fresh spoor of lions, andeven caught sight of one galloping away in the tall reeds on the marshyland at the foot of the hill. 

That evening they fared sumptuously upon venison, and as on the previousday lay down to rest in a little "boma" or fence made of boughs. Butthey were not allowed to sleep well this night, for scarcely had theyshut their eyes when a hyena began to howl about them. They shoutedand the brute went away, but an hour or two later, they heard ominousgrunting sounds, followed presently by a loud roar, which was answeredby another roar, whereat the horses began to whinny in a frightenedfashion. 

"Lions!" said Mr. Clifford, jumping up and throwing dead wood on thefire till it burnt to a bright blaze. 

After that all sleep became impossible, for although the lions did notattack them, having once winded the horses they would not go away, butcontinued wandering round the kopje, grunting and growling. This wenton till abut three o'clock in the morning, when at last the beasts tooktheir departure, for they heard them roaring in the distance. Now thatthey seemed safe, having first made up the fire, they tried to get somerest. 

When, as it appeared to her, Benita had been asleep but a little while, she was awakened by a new noise. It was still dark, but the starlightshowed her that the horses were quite quiet; indeed, one of them waslying down, and the other eating some green leaves from the branchesof the tree to which it was tethered. Therefore that noise had not comefrom any wild animal of which they were afraid. She listened intently, and presently heard it again; it was a murmur like to that of peopletalking somewhere at the bottom of the hill. Then she woke her fatherand told him, but although once or twice they thought they heard thesound of footsteps, nothing else could be distinguished. Still theyrose, and having saddled and bridled the horses as noiselessly as mightbe, waited for the dawn. 

At last it came. Up on the side of the kopje they were in clear air, above which shone the red lights of morning, but under them lay billowsof dense, pearl-hued mist. By degrees this thinned beneath the rays ofthe risen sun, and through it, looking gigantic in that light, Benitasaw a savage wrapped in a kaross, who was walking up and down andyawning, a great spear in his hand. 

"Look, " she whispered, "look!" and Mr. Clifford stared down the line ofher outstretched finger. 

"The Matabele, " he said. "My God! the Matabele!"

XV

THE CHASE

The Matabele it was, sure enough; there could be no doubt of it, forsoon three other men joined the sentry and began to talk with him, pointing with their great spears at the side of the hill. Evidently theywere arranging a surprise when there was sufficient light to carry itout. 

"They have seen our fire, " whispered her father to Benita; "now, ifwe wish to save our lives, there is only one thing to do--ride for itbefore they muster. The impi will be camped upon the other side of thehill, so we must take the road we came by. "

"That runs back to Bambatse, " faltered Benita. 

"Bambatse is better than the grave, " said her father. "Pray Heaven thatwe may get there. "

To this argument there was no answer, so having drunk a sup of water, and swallowing a few mouthfuls of food as they went, they crept to thehorses, mounted them, and as silently as possible began to ride down thehill. 

The sentry was alone again, the other three men having departed. Hestood with his back towards them. Presently when they were quite closeon to him, he heard their horses' hoofs upon the grass, wheeled round atthe sound, and saw them. Then with a great shout he lifted his spear andcharged. 

Mr. Clifford, who was leading, held out his rifle at arm's length--toraise it to his shoulder he had no time--and pulled the trigger. Benitaheard the bullet clap upon the hide shield, and next instant saw theMatabele warrior lying on his back, beating the air with his hands andfeet. Also, she saw beyond the shoulder of the kopje, which they wererounding, hundreds of men marching, and behind them a herd of cattle, the dim light gleaming upon the stabbing spears and on the horns of theoxen. She glanced to the right, and there were more men. The two wingsof the impi were closing upon them. Only a little lane was left in themiddle. They must get through before it shut. 

"Come, " she gasped, striking the horse with her heel and the butt of hergun, and jerking at its mouth. 

Her father saw also, and did likewise, so that the beasts broke into agallop. Now from the point of each wing sprang out thin lines of men, looking like great horns, or nippers, whose business it was to meet andcut them off. Could they pass between them before they did meet? Thatwas the question, and upon its answer it depended whether or no they hadanother three minutes to live. To think of mercy at the hands of thesebloodthirsty brutes, after they had just killed one of their numberbefore their eyes, was absurd. It was true he had been shot inself-defence; but what count would savages take of that, or of thefact that they were but harmless travellers? White people were not verypopular with the Matabele just then, as they knew well; also, theirmurder in this remote place, with not another of their race within acouple of hundred miles, would never even be reported, and much lessavenged. It was as safe as any crime could possibly be. 

All this passed through their minds as they galloped towards thoseclosing points. Oh! the horror of it! But two hundred yards to cover, and their fate would be decided. Either they would have escaped at leastfor a while, or time would be done with them; or, a third alternative, they might be taken prisoners, in all probability a yet more dreadfuldoom. Even then Benita determined that if she could help it this shouldnot befall her. She had the rifle and the revolver that Jacob Meyer hadgiven her. Surely she would be able to find a moment to use one or theother upon herself. She clenched her teeth, and struck the horse againand again, so that now they flew along. The Matabele soldiers wererunning their best to catch them, and if these had been given butfive seconds of start, caught they must have been. But that short fiveseconds saved their lives. 

When they rushed through them the foremost men of the nippers were notmore than twenty yards apart. Seeing that they had passed, these haltedand hurled a shower of spears after them. One flashed by Benita's cheek, a line of light; she felt the wind of it. Another cut her dress, anda third struck her father's horse in the near hind leg just above theknee-joint, remaining fast there for a stride or two, and then fallingto the ground. At first the beast did not seem to be incommoded by thiswound; indeed, it only caused it to gallop quicker, and Benita rejoiced, thinking that it was but a scratch. Then she forgot about it, for someof the Matabele, who had guns, began to shoot them, and although theirmarksmanship was vile, one or two of the bullets went nearer than waspleasant. Lastly a man, the swiftest runner of them all, shouted afterthem in Zulu:

"The horse is wounded. We will catch you both before the sun sets. "

Then they passed over the crest of a rise and lost sight of them for awhile. 

"Thank God!" gasped Benita when they were alone again in the silentveld; but Mr. Clifford shook his head. 

"Do you think they will follow us?" she asked. 

"You heard what the fellow said, " he answered evasively. "Doubtless theyare on their way to attack Bambatse, and have been round to destroy someother wretched tribe, and steal the cattle which we saw. Yes, I fearthat they will follow. The question is, which of us can get to Bambatsefirst. "

"Surely we ought to on the horses, father. "

"Yes, if nothing happens to them, " and as he spoke the words the marewhich he was riding dropped sharply upon her hind leg, the same that hadbeen struck with the spear; then recovered herself and galloped on. 

"Did you see that?" he asked. 

She nodded; then said:

"Shall we get off and look at the cut?"

"Certainly not, " he answered. "Our only chance is to keep her moving;if once the wound stiffens, there's an end. The sinew cannot have beensevered, or it would have come before now. "

So they pushed on. 

All that morning did they canter forward wherever the ground was smoothenough to allow them to do so, and notwithstanding the increasinglameness of Mr. Clifford's mare, made such good progress that by middaythey reached the place where they had passed the first night afterleaving Bambatse. Here sheer fatigue and want of water forced them tostop a little while. They dismounted and drank greedily from thespring, after which they allowed the horses to drink also; indeed it wasimpossible to keep them away from the water. Then they ate a little, notbecause they desired food, but to keep up their strength, and whilethey did so examined the mare. By now her hind leg was much swollen, andblood still ran from the gash made by the assegai. Moreover, the limbwas drawn up so that the point of the hoof only rested on the ground. 

"We must get on before it sets fast, " said Mr. Clifford, and theymounted again. 

Great heavens! what was this? The mare would not stir. In his despairMr. Clifford beat it cruelly, whereupon the poor brute hobbled forwarda few paces on three legs, and again came to a standstill. Either aninjured sinew had given or the inflammation was now so intense that itcould not bend its knee. Understanding what this meant to them, Benita'snerve gave out at last, and she burst into weeping. 

"Don't cry, love, " he said. "God's will be done. Perhaps they have givenup the hunt by now; at any rate, my legs are left, and Bambatse isnot more than sixteen miles away. Forward now, " and holding to hersaddle-strap they went up the long, long slope which led to the poort inthe hills around Bambatse. 

They would have liked to shoot the mare, but being afraid to fire arifle, could not do so. So they left the unhappy beast to its fate, andwith it everything it carried, except a few of the cartridges. Beforethey went, however, at Benita's prayer, her father devoted a few secondsto unbuckling the girths and pulling off the bridle, so that it mighthave a chance of life. For a little way it hobbled after them on threelegs, then, the saddle still upon its back, stood whinnying piteously, till at last, to Benita's intense relief, a turn in their path hid itfrom their sight. 

Half a mile further on she looked round in the faint hope that itmight have recovered itself and followed. But no mare was to be seen. Something else was to be seen, however, for there, three or four milesaway upon the plain behind them, easy to be distinguished in thatdazzling air, were a number of black spots that occasionally seemed tosparkle. 

"What are they?" she asked faintly, as one who feared the answer. 

"The Matabele who follow us, " answered her father, "or rather a companyof their swiftest runners. It is their spears that glitter so. Now, my love, this is the position, " he went on, as they struggled forward:"those men will catch us before ever we can get to Bambatse; they aretrained to run like that, for fifty miles, if need be. But with thisstart they cannot catch your horse, you must go on and leave me to lookafter myself. "

"Never, never!" she exclaimed. 

"But you shall, and you must. I am your father and I order you. As forme, what does it matter? I may hide from them and escape, or--at least Iam old, my life is done, whereas yours is before you. Now, good-bye, andgo on, " and he let go of the saddle-strap. 

By way of answer Benita pulled up the horse. 

"Not one yard, " she said, setting her mouth. 

Then he began to storm at her, calling her disobedient, and undutiful, and when this means failed to move her, to implore her almost withtears. 

"Father, dear, " she said, leaning down towards him as he walked, fornow they were going on again, "I told you why I wanted to run away fromBambatse, didn't I?--because I would rather risk my life than stay. Well, do you think that I wish to return there and live in that placealone with Jacob Meyer? Also, I will tell you another thing. Youremember about Mr. Seymour? Well, I can't get over that; I can't getover it at all, and therefore, although of course I am afraid, it is allone to me. No, we will escape together, or die together; the first if wecan. "

Then with a groan he gave up the argument, and as he found breath theydiscussed their chances. Their first idea was to hide, but save for afew trees all the country was open; there was no place to cover them. They thought of the banks of the Zambesi, but between them and the riverrose a bare, rock-strewn hill with several miles of slope. Long beforethey could reach its crest, even if a horse were able to travel there, they must be overtaken. In short, there was nothing to do except to pushfor the nek, and if they were fortunate enough to reach it before theMatabele, to abandon the horse there and try to conceal themselves amongthe ruins of the houses beyond. This, perhaps, they might do when oncethe sun was down. 

But they did not deceive themselves; the chances were at least fifty toone against them, unless indeed their pursuers grew weary and let themgo. 

At present, however, they were by no means weary, for having perceivedthem from far away, the long-legged runners put on the pace, and thedistance between them and their quarry was lessening. 

"Father, " said Benita, "please understand one thing. I do not mean to betaken alive by those savages. "

"Oh! how can I----" he faltered. 

"I don't ask you, " she answered. "I will see to that myself. Only, if Ishould make any mistake----" and she looked at him. 

The old man was getting very tired. He panted up the steep hillside, and stumbled against the stones. Benita noted it, and slipping from thehorse, made him mount while she ran alongside. Then when he was alittle rested they changed places again, and so covered several milesof country. Subsequently, when both of them were nearly exhausted, theytried riding together--she in front and he behind, for their baggage hadlong since been thrown away. But the weary beast could not carry thisdouble burden, and after a few hundred yards of it, stumbled, fell, struggled to its feet again, and stopped. 

So once more they were obliged to ride and walk alternately. 

Now there was not much more than an hour of daylight left, and thenarrow pass lay about three miles ahead of them. That dreadful threemiles; ever thereafter it was Benita's favourite nightmare! At thebeginning of it the leading Matabele were about two thousand yardsbehind them; half-way, about a thousand; and at the commencement of thelast mile, say five hundred. 

Nature is a wonderful thing, and great are its resources in extremity. As the actual crisis approached, the weariness of these two seemed todepart, or at any rate it was forgotten. They no longer felt exhausted, nor, had they been fresh from their beds, could they have climbed or runbetter. Even the horse seemed to find new energy, and when it laggedMr. Clifford dug the point of his hunting knife into its flank. Gasping, panting, now one mounted and now the other, they struggled on towardsthat crest of rock, while behind them came death in the shape of thosesleuth-hounds of Matabele. The sun was going down, and against itsflaming ball, when they glanced back they could see their dark formsoutlined; the broad spears also looked red as though they had beendipped in blood. They could even hear their taunting shouts as theycalled to them to sit down and be killed, and save trouble. 

Now they were not three hundred yards away, and the crest of the passwas still half a mile ahead. Five minutes passed, and here, where thetrack was very rough, the horse blundered upwards slowly. Mr. Cliffordwas riding at the time, and Benita running at his side, holding to thestirrup leather. She looked behind her. The savages, fearing that theirvictims might find shelter over the hill, were making a rush, andthe horse could go no faster. One man, a great tall fellow, quiteout-distanced his companions. Two minutes more and he was not over ahundred paces from them, a little nearer than they were to the top ofthe pass. Then the horse stopped and refused to stir any more. 

Mr. Clifford jumped from the saddle, and Benita, who could not speak, pointed to the pursuing Matabele. He sat down upon a rock, cocked hisrifle, took a deep breath, and aimed and fired at the soldier who wascoming on carelessly in the open. Mr. Clifford was a good shot, andshaken though he was, at this supreme moment his skill did not failhim. The man was struck somewhere, for he staggered about and fell;then slowly picked himself up, and began to hobble back towards hiscompanions, who, when they met him, stopped a minute to give him somekind of assistance. 

That halt proved their salvation, for it gave them time to make one lastdespairing rush, and gain the brow of the poort. Not that this wouldhave saved them, however, since where they could go the Matabele couldfollow, and there was still light by which the pursuers would have beenable to see to catch them. Indeed, the savages, having laid down thewounded man, came on with a yell of rage, fifty or more of them. 

Over the pass father and daughter struggled, Benita riding; after them, perhaps sixty yards away, ran the Matabele, gathered in a knot now uponthe narrow, ancient road, bordered by steep hillsides. 

Then suddenly from all about them, as it appeared to Benita, brokeout the blaze and roar of rifles, rapid and continuous. Down went theMatabele by twos and threes, till at last it seemed as though but quitea few of them were left upon their feet, and those came on no more;they turned and fled from the neck of the narrow pass to the open slopebeyond. 

Benita sank to the ground, and the next thing that she could rememberwas hearing the soft voice of Jacob Meyer, who said:

"So you have returned from your ride, Miss Clifford, and perhaps it wasas well that the thought came from you to me that you wished me to meetyou here in this very place. "

XVI

BACK AT BAMBATSE

How they reached Bambatse Benita never could remember, but afterwardsshe was told that both she and her father were carried upon litters madeof ox-hide shields. When she came to her own mind again, it was to findherself lying in her tent outside the mouth of the cave within thethird enclosure of the temple-fortress. Her feet were sore and her bonesached, physical discomforts that brought back to her in a flash all theterrors through which she had passed. 

Again she saw the fierce pursuing Matabele; again heard their cruelshouts and the answering crack of the rifles; again, amidst the din andthe gathering darkness, distinguished the gentle, foreign voice of Meyerspeaking his words of sarcastic greeting. Next oblivion fell upon her, and after it a dim memory of being helped up the hill with the sunpouring on her back and assisted to climb the steep steps of the wall bymeans of a rope placed around her. Then forgetfulness again. 

The flap of her tent was drawn aside and she shrank back upon her bed, shutting her eyes for fear lest they should fall upon the face of JacobMeyer. Feeling that it was not he, or learning it perhaps from thefootfall, she opened them a little, peeping at her visitor from betweenher long lashes. He proved to be--not Jacob or her father, but the oldMolimo, who stood beside her holding in his hand a gourd filled withgoat's milk. Then she sat up and smiled at him, for Benita had grownvery fond of this ancient man, who was so unlike anyone that she hadever met. 

"Greeting, Lady, " he said softly, smiling back at her with his lips anddreamy eyes, for his old face did not seem to move beneath its thousandwrinkles. "I bring you milk. Drink; it is fresh and you need food. "

So she took the gourd and drank to the last drop, for it seemed to herthat she had never tasted anything so delicious. 

"Good, good, " murmured the Molimo; "now you will be well again. "

"Yes, I shall get well, " she answered; "but oh! what of my father?"

"Fear not; he is still sick, but he will recover also. You shall see himsoon. "

"I have drunk all the milk, " she broke out; "there is none left forhim. "

"Plenty, plenty, " he answered, waving his thin hand. "There are two cupsfull--one for each. We have not many she-goats down below, but the bestof their milk is saved for you. "

"Tell me all that has happened, Father, " and the old priest, who likedher to call him by that name, smiled again with his eyes, and squatteddown in the corner of the tent. 

"You went away, you remember that you would go, although I told youthat you must come back. You refused my wisdom and you went, and I havelearned all that befell you and how you two escaped the impi. Well, thatnight after sunset, when you did not return, came the Black One--yes, yes, I mean Meyer, whom we name so because of his beard, and, " he addeddeliberately, "his heart. He came running down the hill asking for you, and I gave him the letter. 

"He read it, and oh! then he went mad. He cursed in his own tongue; hethrew himself about; he took a rifle and wished to shoot me, but I satsilent and looked at him till he grew quiet. Then he asked why I hadplayed him this trick, but I answered that it was no trick of mine whohad no right to keep you and your father prisoners against your will, and that I thought you had gone away because you were afraid of him, which was not wonderful if that was how he talked to you. I told him, too, I who am a doctor, that unless he was careful he would go mad; thatalready I saw madness in his eye; after which he became quiet, for mywords frightened him. Then he asked what could be done, and I said--thatnight, nothing, since you must be far away, so that it would be uselessto follow you, but better to go to meet you when you came back. He askedwhat I meant by your coming back, and I answered that I meant what Isaid, that you would come back in great haste and peril--although youwould not believe me when I told you so--for I had it from the Munwaliwhose child you are. 

"So I sent out my spies, and that night went by, and the next day andnight went by, and we sat still and did nothing, though the Black Onewished to wander out alone after you. But on the following morning, atthe dawn, a messenger came in who reported that it had been called tohim by his brethren who were hidden upon hilltops and in other placesfor miles and miles, that the Matabele impi, having destroyed anotherfamily of the Makalanga far down the Zambesi, was advancing to destroyus also. And in the afternoon came a second spy, who reported that youtwo had been surrounded by the impi, but had broken through them, andwere riding hitherward for your lives. Then I took fifty of the bestof our people and put them under the command of Tamas, my son, and sentthem to ambush the pass, for against the Matabele warriors on the plainwe, who are not warlike, do not dare to fight. 

"The Black One went with them, and when he saw how sore was your strait, wished to run down to meet the Matabele, for he is a brave man. But Ihad said to Tamas--'No, do not try to fight them in the open, for therethey will certainly kill you. ' Moreover, Lady, I was sure that you wouldreach the top of the poort. Well, you reached it, though but by thebreadth of a blade of grass, and my children shot with the new rifles, and the place being narrow so that they could not miss, killed many ofthose hyenas of Amandabele. But to kill Matabele is like catching fleason a dog's back: there are always more. Still it served its turn, youand your father were brought away safely, and we lost no one. "

"Where, then, are the Matabele now?" asked Benita. 

"Outside our walls, a whole regiment of them: three thousand men ormore, under the command of the Captain Maduna, he of the royal blood, whose life you begged, but who nevertheless hunted you like a buck. "

"Perhaps he did not know who it was, " suggested Benita. 

"Perhaps not, " the Molimo answered, rubbing his chin, "for in suchmatters even a Matabele generally keeps faith, and you may remember hepromised you life for life. However, they are here ravening like lionsround the walls, and that is why we carried you up to the top of thehill, that you might be safe from them. "

"But are you safe, my Father?"

"I think so, " he replied with a dry little chuckle in his throat. "Whoever built this fortress built it strong, and we have blocked thegates. Also, they caught no one outside; all are within the walls, together with the sheep and goats. Lastly, we have sent most of thewomen and children across the Zambesi in canoes, to hide in places weknow of whither the Amandabele cannot follow, for they dare not swima river. Therefore, for those of us that remain we have food for threemonths, and before then the rains will drive the impi out. "

"Why did you not all go across the river, Father?"

"For two reasons, Lady. The first is, that if we once abandoned ourstronghold, which we have held from the beginning, Lobengula would takeit, and keep it, so that we could never re-enter into our heritage, which would be a shame to us and bring down the vengeance of thespirits of our ancestors upon our heads. The second is, that as you havereturned to us we stay to protect you. "

"You are very good to me, " murmured Benita. 

"Nay, nay, we brought you here, and we do what I am told to do fromAbove. Trouble may still come upon you; yes, I think that it will come, but once more I pray you, have no fear, for out of this evil root shallspring a flower of joy, " and he rose to go. 

"Stay, " said Benita. "Has the chief Meyer found the gold?"

"No; he has found nothing; but he hunts and hunts like a hungry jackaldigging for a bone. But that bone is not for him; it is for you, Lady, you and you only. Oh! I know, you do not seek, still you shall find. Only the next time that you want help, do not run away into thewilderness. Hear the word of Munwali given by his mouth, the Molimo ofBambatse!" And as he spoke, the old priest backed himself out of thetent, stopping now and again to bow to Benita. 

A few minutes later her father entered, looking very weak and shaken, and supporting himself upon a stick. Happy was the greeting of thesetwo who, with their arms about each other's neck, gave thanks for theirescape from great peril. 

"You see, Benita, we can't get away from this place, " Mr. Clifford saidpresently. "We must find that gold. "

"Bother the gold, " she answered with energy; "I hate its very name. Whocan think of gold with three thousand Matabele waiting to kill us?"

"Somehow I don't feel afraid of them any more, " said her father; "theyhave had their chance and lost it, and the Makalanga swear that now theyhave guns to command the gates, the fortress cannot be stormed. Still, Iam afraid of someone. "

"Who?"

"Jacob Mayer. I have seen him several times, and I think that he isgoing mad. "

"The Molimo said that too, but why?"

"From the look of him. He sits about muttering and glowing with thosedark eyes of his, and sometimes groans, and sometimes bursts into shoutsof laughter. That is when the fit is on him, for generally he seemsright enough. But get up if you think you can, and you shall judge foryourself. "

"I don't want to, " said Benita feebly. "Father, I am more afraid of himnow than ever. Oh! why did you not let me stop down below, among theMakalanga, instead of carrying me up here again, where we must livealone with that terrible Jew?"

"I wished to, dear, but the Molimo said we should be safer above, andordered his people to carry you up. Also, Jacob swore that unless youwere brought back he would kill me. Now you understand why I believethat he is mad. "

"Why, why?" gasped Benita again. 

"God knows, " he answered with a groan; "but I think that he is sure thatwe shall never find the gold without you, since the Molimo has told himthat it is for you and you alone, and he says the old man has secondsight, or something of the sort. Well, he would have murdered me--I sawit in his eye--so I thought it better to give in rather than that youshould be left here sick and alone. Of course there was one way----" andhe paused. 

She looked at him and asked:

"What way?"

"To shoot him before he shot me, " he answered in a whisper, "for yoursake, dear--but I could not bring myself to do it. "

"No, " she said with a shudder, "not that--not that. Better that weshould die than that his blood should be upon our hands. Now I will getup and try to show no fear. I am sure that is best, and perhaps we shallbe able to escape somehow. Meanwhile, let us humour him, and pretend togo on looking for this horrible treasure. "

So Benita rose to discover that, save for her stiffness, she was butlittle the worse, and finding all things placed in readiness, set towork with her father's help to cook the evening meal as usual. Of Meyer, who doubtless had placed things in readiness, she saw nothing. 

Before nightfall he came, however, as she knew he would. Indeed, although she heard no step and her back was towards him, she felt hispresence; the sense of it fell upon her like a cold shadow. Turninground she beheld the man. He was standing close by, but above her, upona big granite boulder, in climbing which his soft veld schoons, or hideshoes, had made no noise, for Meyer could move like a cat. The last raysfrom the sinking sun struck him full, outlining his agile, nervous shapeagainst the sky, and in their intense red light, which flamed upon him, he appeared terrible. He looked like a panther about to spring; his eyesshone like a panther's, and Benita knew that she was the prey whom hedesired. Still, remembering her resolution, she determined to show nofear, and addressed him:

"Good-evening, Mr. Meyer. Oh! I am so stiff that I cannot lift my neckto look at you, " and she laughed. 

He bounded softly from the rock, like a panther again, and stood infront of her. 

"You should thank the God you believe in, " he said, "that by now you arenot stiff indeed--all that the jackals have left of you. "

"I do, Mr. Meyer, and I thank you, too; it was brave of you to come outto save us. Father, " she called, "come and tell Mr. Meyer how gratefulwe are to him. "

Mr. Clifford hobbled out from his hut under the tree, saying:

"I have told him already, dear. "

"Yes, " answered Jacob, "you have told me; why repeat yourself? I seethat supper is ready. Let us eat, for you must be hungry; afterwards Ihave something to tell you. "

So they ate, with no great appetite, any of them--indeed Meyer touchedbut little food, though he drank a good deal, first of strong blackcoffee and afterwards of squareface and water. But on Benita he pressedthe choicest morsels that he could find, eyeing her all the while, andsaying that she must take plenty of nutriment or her beauty would sufferand her strength wane. Benita bethought her of the fairy tales of herchildhood, in which the ogre fed up the princess whom he purposed todevour. 

"You should think of your own strength, Mr. Meyer, " she said; "youcannot live on coffee and squareface. "

"It is all I need to-night. I am astonishingly well since you came back. I can never remember feeling so well, or so strong. I can do the workof three men, and not be tired; all this afternoon, for instance, I havebeen carrying provisions and other things up that steep wall, for wemust prepare for a long siege together; yet I should never know thatI had lifted a single basket. But while you were away--ah! then I felttired. "

Benita changed the subject, asking him if he had made any discoveries. 

"Not yet, but now that you are back the discoveries will soon come. Donot be afraid; I have my plan which cannot fail. Also, it was lonelyworking in that cave without you, so I only looked about a littleoutside till it was time to go to meet you, and shoot some of thoseMatabele. Do you know?--I killed seven of them myself. When I wasshooting for your sake I could not miss, " and he smiled at her. 

Benita shrank from him visibly, and Mr. Clifford said in an angry voice:

"Don't talk of those horrors before my daughter. It is bad enough tohave to do such things, without speaking about them afterwards. "

"You are right, " he replied reflectively; "and I apologise, thoughpersonally I never enjoyed anything so much as shooting those Matabele. Well, they are gone, and there are plenty more outside. Listen! They aresinging their evening hymn, " and with his long finger he beat time tothe volleying notes of the dreadful Matabele war-chant, which floated upfrom the plain below. "It sounds quite religious, doesn't it? only thewords--no, I will not translate them. In our circumstances they are toopersonal. 

"Now I have something to say to you. It was unkind of you to run awayand leave me like that, not honourable either. Indeed, " he added with asudden outbreak of the panther ferocity, "had you alone been concerned, Clifford, I tell you frankly that when we met again, I should have shotyou. Traitors deserve to be shot, don't they?"

"Please stop talking to my father like that, " broke in Benita in astern voice, for her anger had overcome her fear. "Also it is I whom youshould blame. "

"It is a pleasure to obey you, " he answered bowing; "I will nevermention the subject any more. Nor do I blame you--who could?--not JacobMeyer. I quite understand that you found it very dull up here, andladies must be allowed their fancies. Also you have come back; so whytalk of the matter? But listen: on one point I have made up my mind;for your own sake you shall not go away any more until we leave thistogether. When I had finished carrying up the food I made sure of that. If you go to look to-morrow morning you will find that no one can comeup that wall--and, what is more, no one can go down it. Moreover, that Imay be quite certain, in future I shall sleep near the stair myself. "

Benita and her father stared at each other. 

"The Molimo has a right to come, " she said; "it is his sanctuary. "

"Then he must celebrate his worship down below for a little while. Theold fool pretends to know everything, but he never guessed what I wasgoing to do. Besides, we don't want him breaking in upon our privacy, dowe? He might see the gold when we find it, and rob us of it afterwards. "

XVII

THE FIRST EXPERIMENT

Again Benita and her father stared at each other blankly, almost withdespair. They were trapped, cut off from all help; in the power of aman who was going mad. Mr. Clifford said nothing. He was old and growingfeeble; for years, although he did not know it, Meyer had dominatedhim, and never more so than in this hour of stress and bewilderment. Moreover, the man had threatened to murder him, and he was afraid, notso much for himself as for his daughter. If he were to die now, whatwould happen to her, left alone with Jacob Meyer? The knowledge of hisown folly, understood too late, filled him with shame. How could he havebeen so wicked as to bring a girl upon such a quest in the company of anunprincipled Jew, of whose past he knew nothing except that it was murkyand dubious? He had committed a great crime, led on by a love of lucre, and the weight of it pressed upon his tongue and closed his lips; heknew not what to say. 

For a little while Benita was silent also; hope died within her. Butshe was a bold-spirited woman, and by degrees her courage re-asserteditself. Indignation filled her breast and shone through her dark eyes. Suddenly she turned upon Jacob, who sat before them smoking his pipe andenjoying their discomfiture. 

"How dare you?" she asked in a low, concentrated voice. "How dare you, you coward?"

He shrank a little beneath her scorn and anger; then seemed to recoverand brace himself, as one does who feels that a great struggle is athand, upon the issue of which everything depends. 

"Do not be angry with me, " he answered. "I cannot bear it. It hurts--ah!you don't know how it hurts. Well, I will tell you, and before yourfather, for that is more honourable. I dare--for your sake. "

"For my sake? How can it benefit me to be cooped up in this horribleplace with you? I would rather trust myself with the Makalanga, oreven, " she added with bitter scorn, "even with those bloody-mindedMatabele. "

"You ran away from them very fast a little while ago, Miss Clifford. Butyou do not understand me. When I said for your sake, I meant for myown. See, now. You tried to leave me the other day and did not succeed. Another time you might succeed, and then--what would happen to me?"

"I do not know, Mr. Meyer, " and her eyes added--"I do not care. "

"Ah! but I know. Last time it drove me nearly mad; next time I should goquite mad. "

"Because you believe that through me you will find this treasure ofwhich you dream day and night, Mr. Meyer----"

"Yes, " he interrupted quickly. "Because I believe that in you I shallfind the treasure of which I dream day and night, and because thattreasure has become necessary to my life. "

Benita turned quickly towards her father, who was puzzling over thewords, but before either of them could speak Jacob passed his handacross his brow in a bewildered way and said:

"What was I talking of? The treasure, yes, the uncountable treasure ofpure gold, that lies hid so deep, that is so hard to discover and topossess; the useless, buried treasure that would bring such joy andglory to us both, if only it could be come at and reckoned out, piece bypiece, coin by coin, through the long, long years of life. "

Again he paused; then went on. 

"Well, Miss Clifford, you are quite right; that is why I have dared tomake you a prisoner, because, as the old Molimo said, the treasure isyours and I wish to share it. Now, about this treasure, it seems that itcan't be found, can it, although I have worked so hard?" and he lookedat his delicate, scarred hands. 

"Quite so, Mr. Meyer, it can't be found, so you had better let us godown to the Makalanga. "

"But there is a way, Miss Clifford, there is a way. You know where itlies, and you can show me. "

"If I knew I would show you soon enough, Mr. Meyer, for then you couldtake the stuff and our partnership would be at an end. "

"Not until it is divided ounce by ounce and coin by coin. Butfirst--first you must show me, as you say you will, and as you can. "

"How, Mr. Meyer? I am not a magician. "

"Ah! but you are. I will tell you how, having your promise. Listen now, both of you. I have studied. I know a great many secret things, and Iread in your face that you have the gift--let me look in your eyes awhile, Miss Clifford, and you will go to sleep quite gently, and thenin your sleep, which shall not harm you at all, you will see where thatgold lies hidden, and you will tell us. "

"What do you mean?" asked Benita, bewildered. 

"I know what he means, " broke in Mr. Clifford. "You mean that you wantto mesmerize her as you did the Zulu chief. "

Benita opened her lips to speak, but Meyer said quickly:

"No, no; hear me first before you refuse. You have the gift, theprecious gift of clairvoyance, that is so rare. "

"How do you know that, Mr. Meyer? I have never been mesmerized in mylife. "

"It does not matter how. I do know it; I have been sure of it from themoment when first we met, that night by the kloof. Although, perhaps, you felt nothing then, it was that gift of yours working upon a mind intune, my mind, which led me there in time to save you, as it was thatgift of yours which warned you of the disaster about to happen to theship--oh! I have heard the story from your own lips. Your spirit canloose itself from the body: it can see the past and the future; it candiscover the hidden things. "

"I do not believe it, " answered Benita; "but at least it shall not beloosed by you. "

"It shall, it shall, " he cried with passion, his eyes blazing on her ashe spoke. "Oh! I foresaw all this, and that is why I was determined youshould come with us, so that, should other means fail, we might haveyour power to fall back upon. Well, they have failed; I have beenpatient, I have said nothing, but now there is no other way. Will you beso selfish, so cruel, as to deny me, you who can make us all rich in anhour, and take no hurt at all, no more than if you had slept awhile?"

"Yes, " answered Benita. "I refuse to deliver my will into the keeping ofany living man, and least of all into yours, Mr. Meyer. "

He turned to her father with a gesture of despair. 

"Cannot you persuade her, Clifford? She is your daughter, she will obeyyou. "

"Not in that, " said Benita. 

"No, " answered Mr. Clifford. "I cannot, and I wouldn't if I could. Mydaughter is quite right. Moreover, I hate this supernatural kind ofthing. If we can't find this gold without it, then we must let it alone, that is all. "

Meyer turned aside to hide his face, and presently looked up again, andspoke quite softly. 

"I suppose that I must accept my answer, but when you talked of anyliving man just now, Miss Clifford, did you include your father?"

She shook her head. 

"Then will you allow him to try to mesmerize you?"

Benita laughed. 

"Oh, yes, if he likes, " she said. "But I do not think that the operationwill be very successful. "

"Good, we will see to-morrow. Now, like you, I am tired. I am going tobed in my new camp by the wall, " he added significantly. 

*****

"Why are you so dead set against this business?" asked her father, whenhe had gone. 

"Oh, father!" she answered, "can't you see, don't you understand? Thenit is hard to have to tell you, but I must. In the beginning Mr. Meyeronly wanted the gold. Now he wants more, me as well as the gold. I hatehim! You know that is why I ran away. But I have read a good deal aboutthis mesmerism, and seen it once or twice, and who knows? If once Iallow his mind to master my mind, although I hate him so much, I mightbecome his slave. "

"I understand now, " said Mr. Clifford. "Oh, why did I ever bring youhere? It would have been better if I had never seen your face again. "

On the morrow the experiment was made. Mr. Clifford attempted tomesmerize his daughter. All the morning Jacob, who, it now appeared, hadpractical knowledge of this doubtful art, tried to instruct him therein. In the course of the lesson he informed him that for a short period inthe past, having great natural powers in that direction, he had made useof them professionally, only giving up the business because he foundit wrecked his health. Mr. Clifford remarked that he had never told himthat before. 

"There are lots of things in my life that I have never told you, "replied Jacob with a little secret smile. "For instance, once Imesmerized you, although you did not know it, and that is why you alwayshave to do what I want you to, except when your daughter is near you, for her influence is stronger than mine. "

Mr. Clifford stared at him. 

"No wonder Benita won't let you mesmerize her, " he said shortly. 

Then Jacob saw his mistake. 

"You are more foolish than I thought, " he said. "How could I mesmerizeyou without your knowing it? I was only laughing at you. "

"I didn't see the laugh, " replied Mr. Clifford uneasily, and they wenton with the lesson. 

That afternoon it was put to proof--in the cave itself, where Meyerseemed to think that the influences would be propitious. Benita, whofound some amusement in the performance, was seated upon the stone stepsunderneath the crucifix, one lamp on the altar and others one each sideof her. 

In front stood her father, staring at her and waving his handsmysteriously in obedience to Jacob's directions. So ridiculous did helook indeed while thus engaged that Benita had the greatest difficultyin preventing herself from bursting into laughter. This was the onlyeffect which his grimaces and gesticulations produced upon her, althoughoutwardly she kept a solemn appearance, and even from time to time shuther eyes to encourage him. Once, when she opened them again, it was toperceive that he was becoming very hot and exhausted, and that Jacob waswatching him with such an unpleasant intentness that she re-closed hereyes that she might not see his face. 

It was shortly after this that of a sudden Benita did feel something, a kind of penetrating power flowing upon her, something soft and subtlethat seemed to creep into her brain like the sound of her mother'slullaby in the dim years ago. She began to think that she was a losttraveller among alpine snows wrapped round by snow, falling, falling inten myriad flakes, every one of them with a little heart of fire. Thenit came to her that she had heard this snow-sleep was dangerous, thelast of all sleeps, and that its victims must rouse themselves, or die. 

Benita roused herself just in time--only just, for now she was beingborne over the edge of a precipice upon the wings of swans, and beneathher was darkness wherein dim figures walked with lamps where theirhearts should be. Oh, how heavy were her eyelids! Surely a weight hungto each of them, a golden weight. There, there, they were open, and shesaw. Her father had ceased his efforts; he was rubbing his brow with ared pocket-handkerchief, but behind him, with rigid arms outstretched, his glowing eyes fastened on her face, stood Jacob Meyer. By an effortshe sprang to her feet, shaking her head as a dog does. 

"Have done with this nonsense, " she said. "It tires me, " and snatchingone of the lamps she ran swiftly down the place. 

Benita expected that Jacob Meyer would be very angry with her, andbraced herself for a scene. But nothing of the sort happened. A whileafterwards she saw the two of them approaching, engaged apparently inamicable talk. 

"Mr. Meyer says that I am no mesmerist, love, " said her father, "and Ican quite believe him. But for all that it is a weary job. I am as tiredas I was after our escape from the Matabele. "

She laughed and answered:

"To judge by results I agree with you. The occult is not in your line, father. You had better give it up. "

"Did you, then, feel nothing?" asked Meyer. 

"Nothing at all, " she answered, looking him in the eyes. "No, that'swrong, I felt extremely bored and sorry to see my father makinghimself ridiculous. Grey hairs and nonsense of that sort don't go welltogether. "

"No, " he answered. "I agree with you--not of that sort, " and the subjectdropped. 

For the next few days, to her intense relief, Benita heard no moreof mesmerism. To begin with, there was something else to occupy theirminds. The Matabele, tired of marching round the fortress and singingendless war-songs, had determined upon an assault. From their point ofvantage on the topmost wall the three could watch the preparations whichthey made. Trees were cut down and brought in from a great distance thatrude ladders might be fashioned out of them; also spies wandered roundreconnoitring for a weak place in the defences. When they came too nearthe Makalanga fired on them, killing some, so that they retreated tothe camp, which they had made in a fold of ground at a little distance. Suddenly it occurred to Meyer that although here the Matabele were safefrom the Makalanga bullets, it was commanded from the greater eminence, and by way of recreation he set himself to harass them. His rifle was asporting Martini, and he had an ample supply of ammunition. Moreover, hewas a beautiful marksman, with sight like that of a hawk. 

A few trial shots gave him the range; it was a shade under seven hundredyards, and then he began operations. Lying on the top of the walland resting his rifle upon a stone, he waited until the man who wassuperintending the manufacture of the ladders came out into the open, when, aiming carefully, he fired. The soldier, a white-bearded savage, sprang into the air, and fell backwards, while his companions staredupwards, wondering whence the bullet had come. 

"Pretty, wasn't it?" said Meyer to Benita, who was watching through apair of field-glasses. 

"I dare say, " she answered. "But I don't want to see any more, " andgiving the glasses to her father, she climbed down the wall. 

But Meyer stayed there, and from time to time she heard the report ofhis rifle. In the evening he told her that he had killed six men andwounded ten more, adding that it was the best day's shooting which hecould remember. 

"What is the use when there are so many?" she asked. 

"Not much, " he answered. "But it annoys them and amuses me. Also, itwas part of our bargain that we should help the Makalanga if they wereattacked. "

"I believe that you like killing people, " she said. 

"I don't mind it, Miss Clifford, especially as they tried to kill you. "

XVIII

THE OTHER BENITA

At irregular times, when he had nothing else to do, Jacob went on withhis man-shooting, in which Mr. Clifford joined him, though with lesseffect. Soon it became evident that the Matabele were very much annoyedby the fatal accuracy of this fire. Loss of life they did not mind inthe abstract, but when none of them knew but that their own turn mightcome next to perish beneath these downward plunging bullets, the matterwore a different face to them. To leave their camp was not easy, sincethey had made a thorn _boma_ round it, to protect them in case theMakalanga should make a night sally; also they could find no otherconvenient spot. The upshot of it all was to hurry their assault, whichthey delivered before they had prepared sufficient ladders to make iteffective. 

At the first break of dawn on the third day after Mr. Clifford's attemptat mesmerism, Benita was awakened by the sounds of shouts and firing. Having dressed herself hastily, she hurried in the growing light towardsthat part of the wall from below which the noise seemed to come, andclimbing it, found her father and Jacob already seated there, theirrifles in hand. 

"The fools are attacking the small gate through which you went outriding, Miss Clifford, the very worst place that they could have chosen, although the wall looks very weak there, " said the latter. "If thoseMakalanga have any pluck they ought to teach them a lesson. "

Then the sun rose and they saw companies of Matabele, who carriedladders in their hands, rushing onwards through the morning mist tilltheir sight of them was obstructed by the swell of the hill. On thesecompanies the two white men opened fire, with what result they could notsee in that light. Presently a great shout announced that the enemy hadgained the fosse and were setting up the ladders. Up to this time theMakalanga appeared to have done nothing, but now they began to firerapidly from the ancient bastions which commanded the entrance the impiwas striving to storm, and soon through the thinning fog they perceivedwounded Matabele staggering and crawling back towards their camp. Ofthese, the light now better, Jacob did not neglect to take his toll. 

Meanwhile, the ancient fortress rang with the hideous tumult of theattack. It was evident that again and again, as their fierce war-shoutsproclaimed, the Matabele were striving to scale the wall, and again andagain were beaten back by the raking rifle fire. Once a triumphant yellseemed to announce their success. The fire slackened and Benita grewpale with fear. 

"The Makalanga cowards are bolting, " muttered Mr. Clifford, listeningwith terrible anxiety. 

But if so their courage came back to them, for presently the gunscracked louder and more incessant than before, and the savage cries of"Kill! Kill! Kill!" dwindled and died away. Another five minutes and theMatabele were in full retreat, bearing with them many dead and woundedmen upon their backs or stretched out on the ladders. 

"Our Makalanga friends should be grateful to us for those hundredrifles, " said Jacob as he loaded and fired rapidly, sending his bulletswherever the clusters were thickest. "Had it not been for them theirthroats would have been cut by now, " he added, "for they could neverhave stopped those savages with the spear. "

"Yes, and ours too before nightfall, " said Benita with a shudder, for the sight of this desperate fray and fear of how it might end hadsickened her. "Thank Heaven, it is over! Perhaps they will give up thesiege and go away. "

But, notwithstanding their costly defeat, for they had lost over ahundred men, the Matabele, who were afraid to return to Buluwayo exceptas victors, did nothing of the sort. They only cut down a quantity ofreeds and scrub, and moved their camp nearly to the banks of the river, placing it in such a position that it could no longer be searched bythe fire of the two white men. Here they sat themselves down sullenly, hoping to starve out the garrison or to find some other way of enteringthe fortress. 

Now Meyer's shooting having come to an end for lack of men to shoot at, since the enemy exposed themselves no more, he was again able to givehis full attention to the matter of the treasure hunt. 

As nothing could be found in the cave he devoted himself to the outsideenclosure which, it may be remembered, was grown over with grass andtrees and crowded with ruins. In the most important of these ruins theybegan to dig somewhat aimlessly, and were rewarded by finding a certainamount of gold in the shape of beads and ornaments, and a few moreskeletons of ancients. But of the Portuguese hoard there was no sign. Thus it came about that they grew gloomier day by day, till at last theyscarcely spoke to each other. Jacob's angry disappointment was writtenon his face, and Benita was filled with despair, since to escape fromtheir gaoler above and the Matabele below seemed impossible. Moreover, she had another cause for anxiety. 

The ill-health which had been threatening her father for a long whilenow fell upon him in earnest, so that of a sudden he became a very oldman. His strength and energy left him, and his mind was so filled withremorse for what he held to be his crime in bringing his daughter tothis awful place, and with terror for the fate that threatened her, thathe could think of nothing else. In vain did she try to comfort him. Hewould only wring his hands and groan, praying that God and she wouldforgive him. Now, too, Meyer's mastery over him became continually moreevident. Mr. Clifford implored the man, almost with tears, to unblockthe wall and allow them to go down to the Makalanga. He even tried tobribe him with the offer of all his share of the treasure, if it werefound, and when that failed, of his property in the Transvaal. 

But Jacob only told him roughly not to be a fool, as they had to see thething through together. Then he would go again and brood by himself, and Benita noticed that he always took his rifle or a pistol with him. Evidently he feared lest her father should catch him unprepared, andtake the law into his own hands by means of a sudden bullet. 

One comfort she had, however: although he watched her closely, theJew never tried to molest her in any way, not even with more of hisenigmatic and amorous speeches. By degrees, indeed, she came to believethat all this was gone from his mind, or that he had abandoned hisadvances as hopeless. 

A week passed since the Matabele attack, and nothing had happened. TheMakalanga took no notice of them, and so far as she was aware theold Molimo never attempted to climb the blocked wall or otherwise tocommunicate with them, a thing so strange that, knowing his affectionfor her, Benita came to the conclusion that he must be dead, killedperhaps in the attack. Even Jacob Meyer had abandoned his digging, andsat about all day doing nothing but think. 

Their meal that night was a miserable affair, since in the first placeprovisions were running short and there was little to eat, and in thesecond no one spoke a word. Benita could swallow no food; she was wearyof that sun-dried trek-ox, for since Meyer had blocked the wall they hadlittle else. But by good fortune there remained plenty of coffee, andof this she drank two cups, which Jacob prepared and handed to herwith much politeness. It tasted very bitter to her, but this, Benitareflected, was because they lacked milk and sugar. Supper ended, Meyerrose and bowed to her, muttering that he was going to bed, and a fewminutes later Mr. Clifford followed his example. She went with herfather to the hut beneath the tree, and having helped him to remove hiscoat, which now he seemed to find difficulty in doing for himself, badehim good-night and returned to the fire. 

It was very lonely there in the silence, for no sound came from eitherthe Matabele or the Makalanga camps, and the bright moonlight seemed topeople the place with fantastic shadows that looked alive. Benita crieda little now that her father could not see her, and then also soughtrefuge in bed. Evidently the end, whatever it might be, was near, and ofit she could not bear to think. Moreover, her eyes were strangely heavy, so much so that before she had finished saying her prayers sleep fellupon her, and she knew no more. 

Had she remained as wakeful as it was often her fate to be during thosefearful days, towards midnight she might have heard some light-footedcreature creeping to her tent, and seen that the moon-rays which flowedthrough the gaping and ill-closed flap were cut off by the figure of aman with glowing eyes, whose projected arms waved over her mysteriously. But Benita neither heard nor saw. In her drugged rest she did not knowthat her sleep turned gradually to a magic swoon. She had no knowledgeof her rising, or of how she threw her thick cloak about her, lit herlamp, and, in obedience to that beckoning finger, glided from the tent. She never heard her father stumble from his hut, disturbed by the soundof footsteps, or the words that passed between him and Jacob Meyer, while, lamp in hand, she stood near them like a strengthless ghost. 

"If you dare to wake her, " hissed Jacob, "I tell you that she will die, and afterwards you shall die, " and he fingered the pistol at his belt. "No harm shall come to her--I swear it! Follow and see. Man, man, besilent; our fortunes hang on it. "

Then, overcome also by the strange fierceness of that voice and gaze, hefollowed. 

On they go to the winding neck of the cavern, first Jacob walkingbackwards like the herald of majesty; then majesty itself in the shapeof this long-haired, death-like woman, cloaked and bearing in her handthe light; and last, behind, the old, white-bearded man, like Timefollowing Beauty to the grave. Now they were in the great cavern, andnow, avoiding the open tombs, the well mouth and the altar, they stoodbeneath the crucifix. 

"Be seated, " said Meyer, and the entranced Benita sat herself downupon the steps at the foot of the cross, placing the lamp on the rockpavement before her, and bowing her head till her hair fell upon hernaked feet and hid them. He held his hands above her for a while, thenasked:

"Do you sleep?"

"I sleep, " came the strange, slow answer. 

"Is your spirit awake?"

"It is awake. "

"Command it to travel backwards through the ages to the beginning, andtell me what you see here. "

"I see a rugged cave and wild folk dwelling in it; an old man is dyingyonder, " and she pointed to the right; "and a black woman with a babeat her breast tends him. A man, it is her husband, enters the cave. Heholds a torch in one hand, and with the other drags a buck. "

"Cease, " said Meyer. "How long is this ago?"

"Thirty-three thousand two hundred and one years, " came the answer, spoken without any hesitation. 

"Pass on, " he said, "pass on thirty thousand years, and tell me what yousee. "

For a long while there was silence. 

"Why do you not speak?" he asked. 

"Be patient; I am living through those thirty thousand years; many alife, many an age, but none may be missed. "

Again there was silence for a long while, till at length she spoke:

"They are done, all of them, and now three thousand years ago I see thisplace changed and smoothly fashioned, peopled by a throng of worshippersclad in strange garments with clasps upon them. Behind me stands thegraven statue of a goddess with a calm and cruel face, in front of thealtar burns a fire, and on the altar white-robed priests are sacrificingan infant which cries aloud. "

"Pass on, pass on, " Meyer said hurriedly, as though the horror of thatscene had leapt to his eyes. "Pass on two thousand seven hundred yearsand tell me what you see. "

Again there was a pause, while the spirit he had evoked in the body ofBenita lived through those ages. Then slowly she answered:

"Nothing, the place is black and desolate, only the dead sleep beneathits floor. "

"Wait till the living come again, " he commanded; "then speak. "

"They are here, " she replied presently. "Tonsured monks, one of whomfashions this crucifix, and their followers who bow before the Host uponthe altar. They come, they go--of whom shall I tell you?"

"Tell me of the Portuguese; of those who were driven here to die. "

"I see them all, " she answered, after a pause. "Two hundred and three ofthem. They are ragged and wayworn and hungry. Among them is a beautifulwoman, a girl. She draws near to me, she enters into me. You must askher, "--this was spoken in a very faint voice--"I am I no more. "

Mr. Clifford attempted to interrupt, but fiercely Meyer bade him to besilent. 

"Speak, " he commanded, but the crouching figure shook her head. 

"Speak, " he said again, whereon another voice, not that of Benita, answered in another tongue:

"I hear; but I do not understand your language. "

"Great Heaven!" said Meyer, "it is Portuguese, " and for a while theterror of the thing struck him dumb, for he was aware that Benita knewno Portuguese. He knew it, however, who had lived at Lorenço Marquez. 

"Who are you?" he asked in that tongue. 

"I am Benita da Ferreira. I am the daughter of the Captain da Ferreiraand of his wife, the lady Christinha, who stand by you now. Turn, andyou will see them. "

Jacob started and looked about him uneasily. 

"What did she say? I did not catch it all, " asked Mr. Clifford. 

He translated her words. 

"But this is black magic, " exclaimed the old man. "Benita knows noPortuguese, so how comes she to speak it?"

"Because she is no longer our Benita; she is another Benita, Benita daFerreira. The Molimo was right when he said that the spirit of the deadwoman went with her, as it seems the name has gone, " he added. 

"Have done, " said Mr. Clifford; "the thing is unholy. Wake her up, or Iwill. "

"And bring about her death. Touch or disturb her, and I tell you shewill die, " and he pointed to Benita, who crouched before them so whiteand motionless that indeed it seemed as though already she were dead. "Be quiet, " he went on. "I swear to you that no hurt shall come to her, also that I will translate everything to you. Promise, or I will tellyou nothing, and her blood be on your head. "

Then Mr. Clifford groaned and said:

"I promise. "

"Tell me your story, Benita da Ferreira. How came you and your peoplehere?"

"The tribes of Monomotapa rose against our rule. They killed many ofus in the lower land, yes, they killed my brother and him to whom I wasaffianced. The rest of us fled north to this ancient fortress, hopingthence to escape by the river, the Zambesi. The Mambo, our vassal, gaveus shelter here, but the tribes besieged the walls in thousands, andburnt all the boats so that we could not fly by the water. Many times webeat them back from the wall; the ditch was full of their dead, and atlast they dared to attack no more. 

"Then we began to starve and they won the first wall. We went onstarving and they won the second wall, but the third wall they could notclimb. So we died; one by one we laid ourselves down in this cave anddied, till I alone was left, for while our people had food they gave itto me who was the daughter of their captain. Yes, alone I knelt at thefoot of this crucifix by the body of my father, praying to the blessedSon of Mary for the death that would not come, and kneeling there Iswooned. When I awoke again the Mambo and his men stood about me, fornow, knowing us to be dead, the tribes had gone, and those who were inhiding across the river had returned and knew how to climb the wall. They bore me from among the dead, they gave me food so that my strengthcame back; but in the night I, who in my wickedness would not live, escaped from them and climbed the pillar of black rock, so that whenthe sun rose they saw me standing there. They begged of me to come down, promising to protect me, but I said 'No, ' who in the evil of my heartonly desired to die, that I might join my father and my brother, and onewho was dearer to me than all. They asked of me where the great treasurewas hidden. "

At these words Jacob gasped, then rapidly translated them, while thefigure before them became silent, as though it felt that for the momentthe power of his will was withdrawn. 

"Speak on, I bid you, " he said, and she continued, the rich, slow voicedropping word after word from the lips of Benita in the alien speechthat this Benita never knew. 

"I answered that it was where it was, and that if they gave it up toany save the one appointed, then that fate which had befallen my peoplewould befall theirs also. Yes, I gave it into their keeping until I cameagain, since with his dying breath my father had commanded me to revealit to none, and I believed that I who was about to die should never comeagain. 

"Then I made my last prayer, I kissed the golden crucifix that now hangsupon this breast wherein I dwell, " and the hand of the living Benita waslifted, and moving like the hand of a dead thing, slowly drew out thesymbol from beneath the cloak, held it for a moment in the lamplight, and let it fall to its place again. "I put my hands before my eyes thatI might not see, and I hurled myself from the pinnacle. "

Now the voice ceased, but from the lips came a dreadful sound, such asmight be uttered by one whose bones are shattered upon rocks, followedby other sounds like those of one who chokes in water. They were sohorrible to hear that Mr. Clifford nearly fainted, and even Jacob Meyerstaggered and turned white as the white face of Benita. 

"Wake her! For God's sake, wake her!" said her father. "She is dying, asthat woman died hundreds of years ago. "

"Not till she has told us where the gold is. Be quiet, you fool. Shedoes not feel or suffer. It is the spirit within her that lives throughthe past again. "

Once more there was silence. It seemed as though the story were all toldand the teller had departed. 

"Benita da Ferreira, " said Meyer at length, "I command you, tell me, areyou dead?"

"Oh! would that I were dead, as my body is dead!" wailed the lips ofBenita. "Alas! I cannot die who suffer this purgatory, and must dwell onhere alone until the destined day. Yes, yes, the spirit of her who wasBenita da Ferreira must haunt this place in solitude. This is her doom, to be the guardian of that accursed gold which was wrung from the earthby cruelty and paid for with the lives of men. "

"Is it still safe?" whispered Jacob. 

"I will look;" then after a pause, "I have looked. It is there, everygrain of it, in ox-hide bags; only one of them has fallen and burst, that which is black and red. "

"Where is it?" he said again. 

"I may not tell you; never, never. "

"Is there anyone whom you may tell?"

"Yes. "

"Whom?"

"Her in whose breast I lie. "

"Tell her then. "

"I have told her; she knows. "

"And may she tell me?"

"Let her guard the secret as she will. O my Guardian, I thank thee. Myburden is departed; my sin of self-murder is atoned. "

"Benita da Ferreira, are you gone?"

No answer. 

"Benita Clifford, do you hear me?"

"I hear you, " said the voice of Benita, speaking in English, althoughJacob, forgetting, had addressed her in Portuguese. 

"Where is the gold?"

"In my keeping. "

"Tell me, I command you. "

But no words came; though he questioned her many times no words came, till at last her head sank forward upon her knees, and in a faint voiceshe murmured:

"Loose me, or I die. "

XIX

THE AWAKING

Still Jacob Meyer hesitated. The great secret was unlearned, and, ifthis occasion passed, might never be learned. But if he hesitated, Mr. Clifford did not. The knowledge of his child's danger, the sense thather life was mysteriously slipping away from her under pressure of theghastly spell in which she lay enthralled, stirred him to madness. Hisstrength and manhood came back to him. He sprang straight at Meyer'sthroat, gripped it with one hand, and with the other drew the knife hewore. 

"You devil!" he gasped. "Wake her or you shall go with her!" and helifted the knife. 

Then Jacob gave in. Shaking off his assailant he stepped to Benita, andwhile her father stood behind him with the lifted blade, began to makestrange upward passes over her, and to mutter words of command. For along while they took no effect; indeed, both of them were almost surethat she was gone. Despair gripped her father, and Meyer worked at hisblack art so furiously that the sweat burst out upon his forehead andfell in great drops to the floor. 

Oh, at last, at last she stirred! Her head lifted itself a little, herbreast heaved. 

"Lord in Heaven, I have saved her!" muttered Jacob in German, and workedon. 

Now the eyes of Benita opened, and now she stood up and sighed. But shesaid nothing; only like a person walking in her sleep, she began to movetowards the entrance of the cave, her father going before her with thelamp. On she went, and out of it straight to her tent, where instantlyshe cast herself upon her bed and sank into deep slumber. It was asthough the power of the drug-induced oblivion, which for a whilewas over-mastered by that other stronger power invoked by Jacob, hadreasserted itself. 

Meyer watched her for awhile; then said to Mr. Clifford:

"Don't be afraid and don't attempt to disturb her. She will wakenaturally in the morning. "

"I hope so for both our sakes, " he answered, glaring at him, "for ifnot, you or I, or the two of us, will never see another. "

Meyer took no notice of his threats; indeed the man seemed so exhaustedthat he could scarcely stand. 

"I am done, " he said. "Now, as she is safe, I don't care what happens tome. I must rest, " and he staggered from the tent, like a drunken man. 

Outside, at the place where they ate, Mr. Clifford heard him gulpingdown raw gin from the bottle. Then he heard no more. 

All the rest of the night, and for some hours of the early morning, didher father watch by the bed of Benita, although, lightly clad as he was, the cold of dawn struck to his bones. At length, when the sun was wellup, she rose in her bed, and her eyes opened. 

"What are you doing here, father?" she said. 

"I have come to see where you were, dear. You are generally out by now. "

"I suppose that I must have overslept myself then, " she replied wearily. "But it does not seem to have refreshed me much, and my head aches. Oh!I remember, " she added with a start. "I have had such a horrid dream. "

"What about?" he asked as carelessly as he could. 

"I can't recall it quite, but it had to do with Mr. Meyer, " and sheshivered. "It seemed as though I had passed into his power, as though hehad taken possession of me, body and soul, and forced me to tell him allthe secret things. "

"What secret things, Benita?"

She shook her head. 

"I don't know now, but we went away among dead people, and I told himthere. Oh! father, I am afraid of that man--terribly afraid! Protect mefrom him, " and she began to cry a little. 

"Of course I will protect you, dear. Something has upset your nerves. Come, dress yourself and you'll soon forget it all. I'll light thefire. "

A quarter of an hour later Benita joined him, looking pale and shaken, but otherwise much as usual. She was ravenously hungry, and ate of thebiscuits and dried meat with eagerness. 

"The coffee tastes quite different from that which I drank last night, "she said. "I think there must have been something in it which gave methose bad dreams. Where is Mr. Meyer? Oh, I know!" and again she put herhand to her head. "He is still asleep by the wall. "

"Who told you that?"

"I can't say, but it is so. He will not come here till one o'clock. There, I feel much better now. What shall we do, father?"

"Sit in the sun and rest, I think, dear. "

"Yes, let us do that, on the top of the wall. We can see the Makalangafrom there, and it will be a comfort to be sure that there are otherhuman beings left in the world besides ourselves and Jacob Meyer. "

So presently they went, and from the spot whence Meyer used to shoot atthe Matabele camp, looked down upon the Makalanga moving about the firstenclosure far below. By the aid of the glasses Benita even thought thatshe recognised Tamas, although of this it was difficult to be sure, forthey were all very much alike. Still, the discovery quite excited her. 

"I am sure it is Tamas, " she said. "And oh! how I wish that we were downthere with him, although it is true that then we should be nearer to theMatabele. But they are better than Mr. Meyer, much better. "

Now for a while they were silent, till at length she said suddenly:

"Father, you are keeping something back from me, and things begin tocome back. Tell me; did I go anywhere last night with Mr. Meyer--you andhe and I together?"

He hesitated and looked guilty; Mr. Clifford was not a good actor. 

"I see that we did; I am sure that we did. Father, tell me. I must know, I will know. "

Then he gave way. 

"I didn't want to speak, dear, but perhaps it is best. It is a verystrange story. Will you promise not to be upset?"

"I will promise not to be more upset than I am at present, " sheanswered, with a sad little laugh. "Go on. "

"You remember that Jacob Meyer wanted to mesmerize you?"

"I am not likely to forget it, " she answered. 

"Well, last night he did mesmerize you. "

"What?" she said. "_What?_ Oh! how dreadful! Now I understand it all. But when?"

"When you were sound asleep, I suppose. At least, the first I knew ofit was that some noise woke me, and I came out of the hut to see youfollowing him like a dead woman, with a lamp in your hand. "

Then he told her all the story, while she listened aghast. 

"How dared he!" she gasped, when her father had finished the long tale. "I hate him; I almost wish that you had killed him, " and she clenchedher little hands and shook them in the air. 

"That is not very Christian of you, Miss Clifford, " said a voice behindher. "But it is past one o'clock, and as I am still alive I have come totell you that it is time for luncheon. "

Benita wheeled round upon the stone on which she sat, and there, standing amidst the bushes a little way from the foot of the wall, wasJacob Meyer. Their eyes met; hers were full of defiance, and his ofconscious power. 

"I do not want any luncheon, Mr. Meyer, " she said. 

"But I am sure that you do. Please come down and have some. Please comedown. "

The words were spoken humbly, almost pleadingly, yet to Benita theyseemed as a command. At any rate, with slow reluctance she climbed downthe shattered wall, followed by her father, and without speaking theywent back to their camping place, all three of them, Jacob leading theway. 

When they had eaten, or made pretence to eat, he spoke. 

"I see that your father has told you everything, Miss Clifford, and ofthat I am glad. As for me, it would have been awkward, who must ask yourforgiveness for so much. But what could I do? I knew, as I have alwaysknown, that it was only possible to find this treasure by your help. So I gave you something to make you sleep, and then in your sleep Ihypnotized you, and--you know the rest. I have great experience in thisart, but I have never seen or heard of anything like what happened, andI hope I never shall again. "

Hitherto Benita had sat silent, but now her burning indignation andcuriosity overcame her shame and hatred. 

"Mr. Meyer, " she said, "you have done a shameful and a wicked thing, andI tell you at once that I can never forgive you. "

"Don't say that. Please don't say that, " he interrupted in tones of realgrief. "Make allowances for me. I had to learn, and there was no otherway. You are a born clairvoyante, one among ten thousand, my art told meso, and you know all that is at stake. "

"By which you mean so many ounces of gold, Mr. Meyer. "

"By which I mean the greatness that gold can give, Miss Clifford. "

"Such greatness, Mr. Meyer, as a week of fever, or a Matabele spear, orGod's will can rob you of. But the thing is done, and soon or late thesin must be paid for. Now I want to ask you a question. You believe innothing; you have told me so several times. You say that there is nosuch thing as a spirit, that when we die, we die, and there's an end. Doyou not?"

"Yes, I do. "

"Then tell me, what was it that spoke out of my lips last night, and howcame it that I, who know no Portuguese, talked to you in that tongue?"

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"You have put a difficult question, but one I think that can beanswered. There is no such thing as a spirit, an identity that survivesdeath. But there is such a thing as the subconscious self, which is partof the animating principle of the universe, and, if only its knowledgecan be unsealed, knows all that has passed and all that is passing inthat universe. One day perhaps you will read the works of my compatriot, Hegel, and there you will find it spoken of. "

"You explain nothing. "

"I am about to explain, Miss Clifford. Last night I gave to yoursub-conscious self--that which knows all--the strength of liberty, sothat it saw the past as it happened in this place. Already you knewthe story of the dead girl, Benita da Ferreira, and that story youre-enacted, talking the tongue she used as you would have talked Greekor any other tongue, had it been hers. It was not her spirit thatanimated you, although at the time I called it so for shortness, butyour own buried knowledge, tricked out and furnished by the effort ofyour human imagination. That her name, Benita, should have been yoursalso is no doubt a strange coincidence, but no more. Also we have noproof that it was so; only what you said in your trance. "

"Perhaps, " said Benita, who was in no mood for philosophical argument. "Perhaps also one day you will see a spirit, Mr. Meyer, and thinkotherwise. "

"When I see a spirit and know that it is a spirit, then doubtlessI shall believe in spirits. But what is the good of talking of suchthings? I do not seek spirits; I seek Portuguese gold. Now, I am sureyou can tell where that gold lies. You would have told us last night, had not your nervous strength failed you, who are unaccustomed to thestate of trance. Speaking as Benita da Ferreira, you said that you sawit and described its condition. Then you could, or would, say no more, and it became necessary to waken you. Miss Clifford, you must let memesmerize you once again for a few minutes only, for then we will wasteno time on past histories, and we shall find the gold. Unless, indeed, "he added by an afterthought, and looking at her sharply, "you knowalready where it is; in which case I need not trouble you. "

"I do not know, Mr. Meyer. I remember nothing about the gold. "

"Which proves my theory. What purported to be the spirit of Benitada Ferreira said that it had passed the secret on to you, but in yourwaking state you do not know that secret. In fact, she did not pass iton because she had no existence. But in your sub-conscious state youwill know. Therefore I must mesmerize you again. Not at once, but ina few days' time, when you have quite recovered. Let us say nextWednesday, three days hence. "

"You shall never mesmerize me again, Mr. Meyer. "

"No, not while I live, " broke in her father, who had been listening tothis discussion in silence. 

Jacob bowed his head meekly. 

"You think so now, but I think otherwise. What I did last night I didagainst your will, and that I can do again, only much more easily. But Ihad rather do it with your will, who work not for my own sake only, butfor the sake of all of us. And now let us talk no more of the matter, lest we should grow angry. " Then he rose and went away. 

The next three days were passed by Benita in a state of constant dread. She knew in herself that Jacob Meyer had acquired a certain command overher; that an invincible intimacy had sprung up between them. She wasacquainted with his thoughts; thus, before he asked for it, shewould find herself passing him some article at table or elsewhere, oranswering a question that he was only about to ask. Moreover, he couldbring her to him from a little distance. Thus, on two or three occasionswhen she was wandering about their prison enclosure, as she was wont todo for the sake of exercise, she found her feet draw to some spot--nowone place and now another--and when she reached it there before her wasJacob Meyer. 

"Forgive me for bringing you here, " he would say, smiling after hiscrooked fashion, and lifting his hat politely, "but I wish to ask you ifyou have not changed your mind as to being mesmerized?"

Then for a while he would hold her with his eyes, so that her feetseemed rooted to the ground, till at length it was as though he cut arope by some action of his will and set her free, and, choked with wrathand blind with tears, Benita would turn and run from him as from a wildbeast. 

But if her days were evil, oh! what were her nights? She lived inconstant terror lest he should again drug her food or drink, and, whileshe slept, throw his magic spell upon her. To protect herself from thefirst danger she would swallow nothing that had been near him. Now alsoshe slept in the hut with her father, who lay near its door, a loadedrifle at his side, for he had told Jacob outright that if he caught himat his practices he would shoot him, a threat at which the younger manlaughed aloud, for he had no fear of Mr. Clifford. 

Throughout the long hours of darkness they kept watch alternately, oneof them lying down to rest while the other peered and listened. Nordid Benita always listen in vain, for twice at least she heard stealthyfootsteps creeping about the hut, and felt that soft and dreadfulinfluence flowing in upon her. Then she would wake her father, whispering, "He is there, I can feel that he is there. " But by the timethat the old man had painfully dragged himself to his feet--for now hewas becoming very feeble and acute rheumatism or some such illness hadgot hold of him--and crept from the hut, there was no one to be seen. Only through the darkness he would hear the sound of a retreating step, and of low, mocking laughter. 

Thus those miserable days went by, and the third morning came, thatdreaded Wednesday. Before it was dawn Benita and her father, neither ofwhom had closed their eyes that night, talked over their strait long andearnestly, and they knew that its crisis was approaching. 

"I think that I had better try to kill him, Benita, " he said. "I amgrowing dreadfully weak, and if I put it off I may find no strength, and you will be at his mercy. I can easily shoot him when his back isturned, and though I hate the thought of such a deed, surely I shall beforgiven. Or if not, I cannot help it. I must think of my duty to you, not of myself. "

"No, no, " she answered. "I will not have it. It would be murder, although he has threatened you. After all, father, I believe that theman is half mad, and not responsible. We must take our chance and trustto God to save us. If He does not, " she added, "at the worst I canalways save myself, " and she touched the pistol which now she wore dayand night. 

"So be it, " said Mr. Clifford, with a groan. "Let us pray fordeliverance from this hell and keep our hands clean of blood. "

XX

JACOB MEYER SEES A SPIRIT

For a while they were silent, then Benita said:

"Father, is it not possible that we might escape, after all? Perhapsthat stair on the rampart is not so completely blocked that we could notclimb over it. "

Mr. Clifford, thinking of his stiff limbs and aching back, shook hishead and answered:

"I don't know; Meyer has never let me near enough to see. "

"Well, why do you not go to look? You know he sleeps till late now, because he is up all night. Take the glasses and examine the top of thewall from inside that old house near by. He will not see or hear you, but if I came near, he would know and wake up. "

"If you like, love, I can try, but what are you going to do while I amaway?"

"I shall climb the pillar. "

"You don't mean----" and he stopped. 

"No, no, nothing of that sort. I shall not follow the example of Benitada Ferreira unless I am driven to it; I want to look, that is all. Onecan see far from that place, if there is anything to see. Perhaps theMatabele are gone now, we have heard nothing of them lately. "

So they dressed themselves, and as soon as the light was sufficientlystrong, came out of the hut and parted, Mr. Clifford, rifle in hand, limping off towards the wall, and Benita going towards the greatcone. She climbed it easily enough, and stood in the little cup-likedepression on its dizzy peak, waiting for the sun to rise and dispersethe mists which hung over the river and its banks. 

Now whatever may have been the exact ceremonial use to which theancients put this pinnacle, without doubt it had something to do withsun-worship. This, indeed, was proved by the fact that, at any rate atthis season of the year, the first rays of the risen orb struck fullupon its point. Thus it came about that, as she stood there waiting, Benita of a sudden found herself suffused in light so vivid and intensethat, clothed as she was in a dress which had once been white, it musthave caused her to shine like a silver image. For several minutes, indeed, this golden spear of fire blinded her so that she could seenothing, but stood quite still, afraid to move, and waiting until, as the sun grew higher, its level rays passed over her. This they didpresently, and plunging into the valley, began to drive away the fog. Now she looked down, along the line of the river. 

The Matabele camp was invisible, for it lay in a hollow almost at thefoot of the fortress. Beyond it, however, was a rising swell of ground;it may have been half a mile from where she stood, and on the crestof it she perceived what looked like a waggon tent with figures movinground it. They were shouting also, for through the silence of theAfrican morn the sound of their voices floated up to her. 

As the mist cleared off Benita saw that without doubt it was a waggon, for there stood the long row of oxen, also it had just been capturedby the Matabele, for these were about it in numbers. At the moment, however, they appeared to be otherwise occupied, for they were pointingwith their spears to the pillar on Bambatse. 

Then it occurred to Benita that, placed as she was in that fierce lightwith only the sky for background, she must be perfectly visible fromthe plain below, and that it might be her figure perched like an eaglebetween heaven and earth which excited their interest. Yes, and nottheirs only, for now a white man appeared, who lifted what might havebeen a gun, or a telescope, towards her. She was sure from the redflannel shirt and the broad hat which he wore that he must be a whiteman, and oh! how her heart yearned towards him, whoever he might be! Thesight of an angel from heaven could scarcely have been more welcome toBenita in her wretchedness. 

Yet surely she must be dreaming. What should a white man and a waggonbe doing in that place? And why had not the Matabele killed him at once?She could not tell, yet they appeared to have no murderous intentions, since they continued to gesticulate and talk whilst he stared upwardswith the telescope, if it were a telescope. So things went on for along time, for meanwhile the oxen were outspanned, until, indeed, moreMatabele arrived, who led off the white man, apparently against hiswill, towards their camp, where he disappeared. Then there was nothingmore to be seen. Benita descended the column. 

At its foot she met her father, who had come to seek her. 

"What is the matter?" he asked, noting her excited face. 

"Oh!" she said or rather sobbed, "there is a waggon with a white manbelow. I saw the Matabele capture him. "

"Then I am sorry for the poor devil, " answered the father, "for heis dead by now. But what could a white man have been doing here? Somehunter, I suppose, who has walked into a trap. "

The face of Benita fell. 

"I hoped, " she said, "that he might help us. "

"As well might he hope that we could help him. He is gone, and there isan end. Well, peace to his soul, and we have our own troubles to thinkof. I have been to look at that wall, and it is useless to think ofclimbing it. If he had been a professional mason, Meyer could not havebuilt it up better; no wonder that we have seen nothing more of theMolimo, for only a bird could reach us. "

"Where was Mr. Meyer, " asked Benita. 

"Asleep in a blanket under a little shelter of boughs by the stair. Atleast, I thought so, though it was rather difficult to make him out inthe shadow; at any rate, I saw his rifle set against a tree. Come, letus go to breakfast. No doubt he will turn up soon enough. "

So they went, and for the first time since the Sunday Benita ate ahearty meal of biscuits soaked in coffee. Although her father was sosure that by now he must have perished on the Matabele spears, the sightof the white man and his waggon had put new life into her, bringing herinto touch with the world again. After all, might it not chance that hehad escaped?

All this while there had been no sign of Jacob Meyer. This, however, didnot surprise them, for now he ate his meals alone, taking his food froma little general store, and cooking it over his own fire. When they hadfinished their breakfast Mr. Clifford remarked that they had no moredrinking water left, and Benita said that she would go to fetch apailful from the well in the cave. Her father suggested that he shouldaccompany her, but she answered that it was not necessary as she wasquite able to wind the chain by herself. So she went, carrying thebucket in one hand and a lamp in the other. 

As she walked down the last of the zigzags leading to the cave, Benitastopped a moment thinking that she saw a light, and then went on, since on turning the corner there was nothing but darkness before her. Evidently she had been mistaken. She reached the well and hung the pailon to the great copper hook, wondering as she did so how many folk haddone likewise in the far, far past, for the massive metal of that hookwas worn quite thin with use. Then she let the roller run, and the soundof the travelling chain clanked dismally in that vaulted, empty place. At length the pail struck the water, and she began to wind up again, pausing at times to rest, for the distance was long and the chain heavy. The bucket appeared. Benita drew it to the side of the well, and liftedit from the hook, then took up her lamp to be gone. 

Feeling or seeing something, which she was not sure, she held the lampabove her head, and by its light perceived a figure standing between herand the entrance to the cave. 

"Who are you?" she asked, whereon a soft voice answered out of thedarkness, the voice of Jacob Meyer. 

"Do you mind standing still for a few minutes, Miss Clifford? I havesome paper here and I wish to make a sketch. You do not know howbeautiful you look with that light above your head illuminating theshadows and the thorn-crowned crucifix beyond. You know, whatever pathsfortune may have led me into, by nature I am an artist, and never in mylife have I seen such a picture. One day it will make me famous. 

 'How statue-like I see thee stand! The agate lamp within thy hand. '

That's what I should put under it; you know the lines, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Meyer, but I am afraid you will have to paint your picturefrom memory, as I cannot hold up this lamp any longer; my arm is achingalready. I do not know how you came here, but as you have followed meperhaps you will be so kind as to carry this water. "

"I did not follow you, Miss Clifford. Although you never saw me Ientered the cave before you to take measurements. "

"How can you take measurements in the dark?"

"I was not in the dark. I put out my light when I caught sight of you, knowing that otherwise you would run away, and fate stood me in goodstead. You came on, as I willed that you should do. Now let us talk. Miss Clifford, have you changed your mind? You know the time is up. "

"I shall never change my mind. Let me pass you, Mr. Meyer. "

"No, no, not until you have listened. You are very cruel to me, verycruel indeed. You do not understand that, rather than do you theslightest harm, I would die a hundred times. "

"I do not ask you to die; I ask you to leave me alone--a much easiermatter. "

"But how can I leave you alone when you are a part of me, when--I loveyou? There, the truth is out, and now say what you will. "

Benita lifted the bucket of water; its weight seemed to steady her. Thenshe put it down again, since escape was impracticable; she must face thesituation. 

"I have nothing to say, Mr. Meyer, except that _I_ do not love _you_ orany living man, and I never shall. I thank you for the compliment youhave paid me, and there is an end. "

"Any living man, " he repeated after her. "That means you love a deadman--Seymour, he who was drowned. No wonder that I hated him when firstmy eyes fell on him years ago, long before you had come into our lives. Prescience, the sub-conscious self again. Well, what is the use ofloving the dead, those who no longer have any existence, who havegone back into the clay out of which they were formed and are not, norevermore shall be? You have but one life; turn, turn to the living, andmake it happy. "

"I do not agree with you, Mr. Meyer. To me the dead are still living;one day I shall find them. Now let me go. "

"I will not let you go. I will plead and wrestle with you as in theold fable my namesake of my own race wrestled with the angel, until atlength you bless me. You despise me because I am a Jew, because I havehad many adventures and not succeeded; because you think me mad. But Itell you that there is the seed of greatness in me. Give yourself to meand I will make you great, for now I know that it was you whom I neededto supply what is lacking in my nature. We will win the wealth, andtogether we will rule----"

"Until a few days hence we starve or the Matabele make an end of us. No, Mr. Meyer, no, " and she tried to push past him. 

He stretched out his arms and stopped her. 

"Listen, " he said, "I have pleaded with you as man with woman. Now, asyou refuse me and as you alone stand between me and madness, I will takeanother course. I am your master, your will is servant to my will; I bidyou obey me. "

He fixed his eyes upon hers, and Benita felt her strength begin to fail. 

"Ah!" he said, "you are my servant now, and to show it I shall kiss youon the lips; then I shall throw the sleep upon you, and you will tell mewhat I want to know. Afterwards we can be wed when it pleases me. Oh! donot think that your father will defend you, for if he interferes I shallkill that foolish old man, whom until now I have only spared for yoursake. Remember that if you make me angry, I shall certainly kill him, and your father's blood will be on your head. Now I am going to kissyou. "

Benita lifted her hand to find the pistol at her waist. It fell backagain; she had no strength; it was as though she were paralysed as abird is paralysed by a snake so that it cannot open its wings and flyaway, but sits there awaiting death. She was given over into thehands of this man whom she hated. Could Heaven allow such a thing? shewondered dimly, and all the while his lips drew nearer to her face. 

They touched her own, and then, why or wherefore Benita neverunderstood, the spell broke. All his power was gone, she was as she hadbeen, a free woman, mistress of herself. Contemptuously she thrust theman aside, and, not even troubling to run, lifted her pail of water andwalked away. 

Soon she saw the light again, and joyfully extinguished her lamp. Indeed, the breast of Benita, which should have been so troubled afterthe scene through which she had passed, strangely enough was filled withhappiness and peace. As that glorious sunlight had broken on her eyes, so had another light of freedom arisen in her soul. She was no longerafraid of Jacob Meyer; that coward kiss of his had struck off theshackles which bound her to him. Her mind had been subject to his mind, but now that his physical nature was brought into the play, his mentalpart had lost its hold upon her. 

As she approached the hut she saw her father seated on a stone outsideit, since the poor old man was now so weak and full of pain that hecould not stand for very long, and seeing, remembered Meyer's threatsagainst him. At the thought all her new-found happiness departed. 

She might be safe; she felt sure that she was safe, but how about herfather? If Meyer could not get his way probably he would be as good ashis word, and kill him. She shivered at the thought, then, recoveringherself, walked forward steadily with her bucket of water. 

"You have been a long while gone, my love, " said Mr. Clifford. 

"Yes, father, Mr. Meyer was in the cave, and kept me. "

"How did he get there, and what did he want?"

"I don't know how he got there--crept in when we were not looking, Isuppose. But as for what he wanted--listen, dear, " and word for word shetold him what had passed. 

Before she had finished, her father was almost choking with wrath. 

"The dirty Jew! The villain!" he gasped. "I never dreamed that he woulddare to attempt such an outrage. Well, thank Heaven! I can still hold arifle, and when he comes out----"

"Father, " she said gently, "that man is mad. He is not responsible forhis actions, and therefore, except in self-defence, you must not thinkof such a thing. As for what he said about you, I believe it was onlyan empty threat, and for me you need have no fear, his power over me isgone; it went like a flash when his lips touched me, " and she rubbed herown as though to wipe away some stain. "I am afraid of nothing more. Ibelieve--yes, I believe the old Molimo was right, and that all will endwell----"

As she was speaking Benita heard a shuffling sound behind her, andturned to learn its cause. Then she saw a strange sight. Jacob Meyer wasstaggering towards them, dragging one foot after the other through thegrass and stones. His face was ghastly pale, his jaw had dropped likethat of a dead man, and his eyes were set wide open and full of horror. 

"What is the matter with you, man?" asked Mr. Clifford. 

"I--I--have seen a ghost, " he whispered. "You did not come back into thecave, did you?" he added, pointing at Benita, who shook her head. 

"What ghost?" asked Mr. Clifford. 

"I don't know, but my lamp went out, and then a light began to shinebehind me. I turned, and on the steps of that crucifix I saw a womankneeling. Her arms clasped the feet of the figure, her forehead restedupon the feet, her long black hair flowed down, she was dressed inwhite, and the light came from her body and her head. Very slowly sheturned and looked at me, and oh, Heaven! that face----" and he puthis hand before his eyes and groaned. "It was beautiful; yes, yes, butfearful to see, like an avenging angel. I fled, and the light--only thelight--came with me down the cave, even at the mouth of it there was alittle. I have seen a spirit, I who did not believe in spirits, I haveseen a spirit, and I tell you that not for all the gold in the worldwill I enter that place again. "

Then before they could answer, suddenly as though his fear had got somefresh hold of him, Jacob sprang forward and fled away, crashing throughthe bushes and leaping from rock to rock like a frightened buck. 

XXI

THE MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD

"Meyer always said that he did not believe in spirits, " remarked Mr. Clifford reflectively. 

"Well, he believes in them now, " answered Benita with a little laugh. "But, father, the poor man is mad, that is the fact of it, and we mustpay no attention to what he says. "

"The old Molimo and some of his people--Tamas, for instance--declaredthat they have seen the ghost of Benita da Ferreira. Are they mad also, Benita?"

"I don't know, father. Who can say? All these things are a mystery. All I do know is that I have never seen a ghost, and I doubt if I evershall. "

"No, but when you were in that trance something that was not you spokeout of your mouth, which something said that it was your namesake, theother Benita. Well, as you say, we can't fathom these things, especiallyin a haunted kind of place like this, but the upshot of it is that Idon't think we have much more to fear from Jacob. "

"I am not so sure, father. Mad people change their moods very suddenly. "

As it happened Benita was quite right. Towards suppertime Jacob Meyerreappeared, looking pale and shaken, but otherwise much as usual. 

"I had a kind of fit this morning, " he explained, "the result of anhallucination which seized me when my light went out in that cave. Iremember that I thought I had seen a ghost, whereas I know verywell that no such thing exists. I was the victim of disappointment, anxieties, and other still stronger emotions, " and he looked at Benita. "Therefore, please forget anything I said or did, and--would you give mesome supper?"

Benita did so, and he ate in silence, with some heartiness. When he hadfinished his food, and swallowed two or three tots of squareface, hespoke again:

"I have come here, where I know I am not welcome, upon business, " hesaid in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. "I am tired of this place, andI think it is time that we attained the object of our journey here, namely, to find the hidden gold. That, as we all know, can only be donein a certain way, through the clairvoyant powers of one of us and thehypnotic powers of another. Miss Clifford, I request that you will allowme to throw you into a state of trance. You have told us everythingelse, but you have not yet told us where the treasure is hidden, andthis it is necessary that we should know. "

"And if I refuse, Mr. Meyer?"

"Then I am sorry, but I must take means to compel your obedience. Underthose circumstances, much against my will, I shall be obliged"--herehis eye blazed out wildly--"to execute your father, whose obstinacyand influence stand between us and splendid fortunes. No, Clifford, " headded, "don't stretch out your hand towards that rifle, for I am alreadycovering you with the pistol in my pocket, and the moment your handtouches it I shall fire. You poor old man, do you imagine for a singlesecond that, sick as you are, and with your stiff limbs, you can hope tomatch yourself against my agility, intellect, and strength? Why, I couldkill you in a dozen ways before you could lift a finger against me, andby the God I do not believe in, unless your daughter is more compliant, kill you I will!"

"That remains to be seen, my friend, " said Mr. Clifford with a laugh, for he was a brave old man. "I am not certain that the God--whom you donot believe in--will not kill you first. "

Now Benita, who had been taking counsel with herself, looked up and saidsuddenly:

"Very well, Mr. Meyer, I consent--because I must. To-morrow morning youshall try to mesmerize me, if you can, in the same place, before thecrucifix in the cave. "

"No, " he answered quickly. "It was not there, it was here, and here itshall be again. The spot you mention is unpropitious to me; the attemptwould fail. "

"It is the spot that I have chosen, " answered Benita stubbornly. 

"And this is the spot that I have chosen, Miss Clifford, and my willmust prevail over yours. "

"Because you who do not believe in spirits are afraid to re-enter thecave, Mr. Meyer, lest you should chance----"

"Never mind what I am or am not afraid of, " he replied with fury. "Makeyour choice between doing my will and your father's life. To-morrowmorning I shall come for your answer, and if you are still obstinate, within half an hour he will be dead, leaving you and me alone together. Oh! you may call me wicked and a villain, but it is you who are wicked, you, you, _you_ who force me to this deed of justice. "

Then without another word he sprang up and walked away from thembackwards, as he went covering Mr. Clifford with the pistol which hehad drawn from his pocket. The last that they saw of him were his eyes, which glowered at them through the darkness like those of a lion. 

"Father, " said Benita, when she was sure that he had gone, "that madmanreally means to murder you; there is no doubt of it. "

"None whatever, dear; if I am alive to-morrow night I shall be lucky, unless I can kill him first or get out of his way. "

"Well, " she said hurriedly, "I think you can. I have an idea. He isafraid to go into that cave, I am sure. Let us hide ourselves there. We can take food and shall have plenty of water, whereas, unless rainfalls, he can get nothing to drink. "

"But what then, Benita? We can't stop in the dark for ever. "

"No, but we can wait there until something happens. Something must andwill happen. His disease won't stand still. He may go raving mad andkill himself. Or he may attempt to attack us, though that is not likely, and then we must do what we can in self defence. Or help may reach usfrom somewhere. At the worst we shall only die as we should have diedoutside. Come, let us be quick, lest he should change his mind, andcreep back upon us. "

So Mr. Clifford gave way, knowing that even if he could steel himselfto do the deed of attempting to kill Jacob, he would have little chanceagainst that strong and agile man. Such a struggle would only end in hisown death, and Benita must then be left alone with Meyer and his insanepassions. 

Hurriedly they carried their few belongings into the cave. Firstthey took most of the little store of food that remained, the threehand-lamps and all the paraffin; there was but one tin. Then returningthey fetched the bucket, the ammunition, and their clothes. Afterwards, as there was still no sign of Meyer, they even dared to drag in thewaggon tent to make a shelter for Benita, and all the wood that theyhad collected for firing. This proved a wearisome business, for the logswere heavy, and in his crippled state Mr. Clifford could carry no greatburden. Indeed, towards the end Benita was forced to complete the taskalone, while he limped beside her with his rifle, lest Jacob shouldsurprise them. 

When at length everything was done it was long past midnight, and soexhausted were they that, notwithstanding their danger, they flungthemselves down upon the canvas tent, which lay in a heap at the end ofthe cave near the crucifix, and fell asleep. 

When Benita woke the lamp had gone out, and it was pitch dark. Fortunately, however, she remembered where she had put the matches andthe lantern with a candle in it. She lit the candle and looked at herwatch. It was nearly six o'clock. The dawn must be breaking outside, within an hour or two Jacob Meyer would find that they had gone. Supposethat his rage should overcome his fear and that he should creep uponthem. They would know nothing of it until his face appeared in the faintring of light. Or he might even shoot her father out of the darkness. What could she do that would give them warning? A thought came to her. 

Taking one of the tent ropes and the lantern, for her father still sleptheavily, she went down to the entrance of the cave, and at the end ofthe last zigzag where once a door had been, managed to make it fast to astone hinge about eighteen inches above the floor, and on the other sideto an eye opposite that was cut in the solid rock to receive a bolt ofwood or iron. Meyer, she knew, had no lamps or oil, only matches andperhaps a few candles. Therefore if he tried to enter the cave it wasprobable that he would trip over the rope and thus give them warning. Then she went back, washed her face and hands with some water that theyhad drawn on the previous night to satisfy their thirst, and tidiedherself as best she could. This done, as her father still slept, shefilled the lamps, lit one of them, and looked about her, for she wasloth to wake him. 

Truly it was an awful place in which to dwell. There above them toweredthe great white crucifix; there in the corner were piled the remains ofthe Portuguese. A skull with long hair still hanging to it grinned ather, a withered hand was thrust forward as though to clutch her. Oh, nowonder that in such a spot Jacob Meyer had seen ghosts! In front, too, was the yawning grave where they had found the monk; indeed, his boneswrapped in dark robes still lay within, for Jacob had tumbled them backagain. Then beyond and all around deep, dark, and utter silence. 

At last her father woke, and glad enough was she of his human company. They breakfasted upon some biscuits and water, and afterwards, while Mr. Clifford watched near the entrance with his rifle, Benita set to workto arrange their belongings. The tent she managed to prop up against thewall of the cave by help of some of the wood which they had carried in. Beneath it she spread their blankets, that it might serve as a sleepingplace for them both, and outside placed the food and other things. 

While she was thus engaged she heard a sound at the mouth of thecave--Jacob Meyer was entering and had fallen over her rope. Down itshe ran, lantern in hand, to her father, who, with his rifle raised, wasshouting:

"If you come in here, I put a bullet through you!"

Then came the answer in Jacob's voice, which rang hollow in that vaultedplace:

"I do not want to come in; I shall wait for you to come out. You cannotlive long in there; the horror of the dark will kill you. I have only tosit in the sunlight and wait. "

Then he laughed, and they heard the sound of his footsteps retreatingdown the passage. 

"What are we to do?" asked Mr. Clifford despairingly. "We cannot livewithout light, and if we have light he will certainly creep to theentrance and shoot us. He is quite mad now; I am sure of it from hisvoice. "

Benita thought a minute, then she answered:

"We must build up the passage. Look, " and she pointed to the lumps ofrock that the explosion of their mine had shaken down from the roof, and the slabs of cement that they had broken from the floor with thecrowbar. "At once, at once, " she went on; "he will not come back forsome hours, probably not till night. "

So they set to work, and never did Benita labour as it was her lot to dothat day. Such of the fragments as they could lift they carried betweenthem, others they rolled along by help of the crowbar. For hour afterhour they toiled at their task. Luckily for them, the passage was notmore than three feet wide by six feet six high, and their material wasample. Before the evening they had blocked it completely with a wallseveral feet in thickness, which wall they supported on the inside withlengths of the firewood lashed across to the old hinges and bolt-holes, or set obliquely against its face. 

It was done, and they regarded their work with pride, although it seemedprobable that they were building up their own tomb. Because of itsposition at an angle of the passage, they knew that Meyer could not getto it with a pole to batter it down. Also, there was no loose powderleft, so his only chance would be to pull it to pieces with his hands, and this, they thought, might be beyond his power. At least, should heattempt it, they would have ample warning. Yet that day was not to passwithout another trouble. 

Just as they had rolled up and levered into place a long fragment ofrock designed to prevent the ends of their supporting pieces of woodfrom slipping on the cement floor, Mr. Clifford uttered an exclamation, then said:

"I have wrung my back badly. Help me to the tent. I must lie down. "

Slowly and with great pain they staggered up the cave, Mr. Cliffordleaning on Benita and a stick, till, reaching the tent at last, healmost fell on to the blankets and remained there practically crippled. 

Now began Benita's terrible time, the worst of all her life. Every hourher father became more ill. Even before they took refuge in the cavehe was completely broken down, and now after this accident he began tosuffer very much. His rheumatism or sciatica, or whatever it was, seemedto settle upon the hurt muscles of his back, causing him so much painthat he could scarcely sleep for ten minutes at a stretch. Moreover, hewould swallow but little of the rough food which was all Benita wasable to prepare for him; nothing, indeed, except biscuit soaked in blackcoffee, which she boiled over a small fire made of wood that they hadbrought with them, and occasionally a little broth, tasteless stuffenough, for it was only the essence of biltong, or sun-dried flesh, flavoured with some salt. 

Then there were two other terrors against she must fight, the darknessand the dread of Jacob Meyer. Perhaps the darkness was the worse ofthem. To live in that hideous gloom in which their single lamp, for shedared burn no more lest the oil should give out, seemed but as one starto the whole night, ah! who that had not endured it could know what itmeant? There the sick man, yonder the grinning skeletons, around theblackness and the silence, and beyond these again a miserable death, or Jacob Meyer. But of him Benita saw nothing, though once or twice shethought that she heard his voice raving outside the wall which they hadbuilt. If so, either he did not try to pull it down, or he failed inthe attempt, or perhaps he feared that should he succeed, he would begreeted by a bullet. So at last she gave up thinking about him. Shouldhe force his way into the cave she must deal with the situation as bestshe could. Meanwhile, her father's strength was sinking fast. 

Three awful days went by in this fashion, and the end drew near. Although she tried to force herself to it, Benita could not swallowenough food to keep up her strength. Now that the passage was closed theatmosphere of this old vault, for it was nothing more, thickened bythe smoke of the fire which she was obliged to burn, grew poisonous andchoked her. Want of sleep exhausted her, dread of what the morrow mightbring forth crushed her strong spirit. She began to break down, knowingthat the hour was near when she and her father must die together. 

Once, as she slept awhile at his side, being wakened by his groaning, Benita looked at her watch. It was midnight. She rose, and going to theembers of the little fire, warmed up some of her biltong broth which shepoured into a tin pannikin. With difficulty she forced him to swallowa few mouthfuls of it, then, feeling a sudden weakness, drank the restherself. It gave her power to think, and her father dozed off into anuneasy sleep. 

Alas! thinking was of no use, nothing could be done. There was no hopesave in prayer. Restlessness seized Benita, and taking the lantern shewandered round the cave. The wall that they had built remained intact, and oh! to think that beyond it flowed the free air and shone theblessed stars! Back she came again, skirting the pits that Jacob Meyerhad dug, and the grave of the old monk, till she reached the steps ofthe crucifix, and holding up her candle, looked at the thorn-crownedbrow of the Christ above. 

It was wonderfully carved; that dying face was full of pity. Would notHe Whom it represented pity her? She knelt down on the topmost step, andclasping the pierced feet with her arms, began to pray earnestly, notfor herself but that she might save her father. She prayed as she hadnever prayed before, and so praying, sank into a torpor or a swoon. 

It seemed to Benita that this sleep of hers suddenly became alive; in itshe saw many things. For instance, she saw herself seated in a state oftrance upon that very step where now she knelt, while before her stoodher father and Jacob Meyer. Moreover, something spoke in her; she couldnot hear a voice, but she seemed to see the words written in the airbefore her. These were the words:--

"_Clasp the feet of the Christ and draw them to the left. The passagebeneath leads to the chamber where the gold is hid, and thence to theriver bank. That is the secret which ere I depart, I the dead Benita, pass on to you, the living Benita, as I am commanded. In life and deathpeace be to your soul. _"

Thrice did this message appear to repeat itself in the consciousnessof Benita. Then, suddenly as she had slept, she woke again with everyletter of it imprinted on her mind. Doubtless it was a dream, nothingbut a dream bred by the fact that her arms were clasping the feet of thecrucifix. What did it say? "Draw them to the left. "

She did so, but nothing stirred. Again she tried, and still nothingstirred. Of course it was a dream. Why had such been sent to mock her?In a kind of mad irritation she put out all her remaining strength andwrestled with those stony feet. _They moved a little_--then of a sudden, without any further effort on her part, swung round as high as the kneeswhere drapery hung, concealing the join in them. Yes, they swung round, revealing the head of a stair, up which blew a cold wind that it wassweet to breathe. 

Benita rose, gasping. Then she seized her lantern and ran to the littletent where her father lay. 

XXII

THE VOICE OF THE LIVING

Mr. Clifford was awake again now. 

"Where have you been?" he asked querulously in a thin voice. "I wantedyou. " Then as the light from the candle shone upon it, he noted thechange that had come over her pale face, and added: "What has happened?Is Meyer dead? Are we free?"

Benita shook her head. "He was alive a few hours ago, for I could hearhim raving and shouting outside the wall we built. But, father, it hasall come back to me; I believe that I have found it. "

"What has come back? What have you found? Are you mad, too, like Jacob?"

"What something told me when I was in the trance which afterwards Iforgot, but now remember. And I have found the passage which leads towhere they hid the gold. It begins behind the crucifix, where no oneever thought of looking. "

This matter of the gold did not seem to interest Mr. Clifford. In hisstate all the wealth beneath the soil of Africa would not have appealedto him. Moreover, he hated the name of that accursed treasure, which wasbringing them to such a miserable end. 

"Where does the passage run? Have you looked?" he asked. 

"Not yet, but the voice in me said--I mean, I dreamed--that it goes downto the river-side. If you leant on me do you think that you could walk?"

"Not one inch, " he answered. "Here where I am I shall die. "

"No, no, don't talk like that. We may be saved now that I have founda way. Oh, if only you could--if only you could walk, or if I had thestrength to carry you!" and she wrung her hands and began to weep, soweak was she. 

Her father looked at her searchingly. Then he said:

"Well, love, I cannot, so there's an end. But you can, and you hadbetter go. "

"What! And leave you? Never. "

"Yes, and leave me. Look, there is but a little oil left and only afew candles. The biscuits are done and neither of us can swallowthat biltong any more. I suppose that I am dying, and your health andstrength are failing you quickly in this darkness; if you stop hereyou must soon follow me. And what is the alternative? The madmanoutside--that is, if you could find strength to pull down the wall, which I doubt. You had best go, Benita. "

But still she said she would not. 

"Do you not see, " he added, "that it is my only chance of life? If yougo you may be able to bring me help before the end comes. Should therebe a passage the probability is that, although they know nothing ofit, it finishes somewhere by the wall of the first enclosure where theMakalanga are. If so, you may find the Molimo, or if he is dead, Tamasor one of the others, and they will help us. Go, Benita, go at once. "

"I never thought of that, " she answered in a changed voice. "Of course, it may be so, if the passage goes down at all. Well, at least I can lookand come back to tell you. "

Then Benita placed the remainder of the oil close by her father'sside, so that he could refill the lamp, for the use of his hands stillremained to him. Also, she set there such crumbs of biscuit as wereleft, some of the biltong, a flask of Hollands, and a pail of water. This done, she put on her long cloak, filled one of its pockets withbiltong, and the other with matches and three of the four remainingcandles. The fourth she insisted on leaving beside her father's bed. When everything was ready she knelt down at his side, kissed him, andfrom her heart put up a prayer that they might both live to meet again, although she knew well that this they could scarcely hope to do. 

Had two people ever been in a more dreadful situation, she wondered, asshe looked at her father lying there, whom she must leave to fight withDeath alone in that awful place, while she went forth to meet him in theunknown bowels of the earth!

Mr. Clifford read her thoughts. "Yes, " he said, "it is a strange partingand a wild errand. But who knows? It may please Providence to take youthrough, and if not--why, our troubles will soon be over. "

Then once more they kissed, and not daring to try to speak, Benita toreherself away. Passing into the passage whereof the lower half of thecrucifix formed the door, she paused for a moment to examine it and toplace a fragment of rock in such fashion that it could not shut againbehind her. Her idea was that it worked by aid of some spring, but nowshe saw that this was not so, as the whole mass hung upon three stonehinges beautifully concealed. The dust and corrosion of ages which hadmade this door so hard to open, by filling up the tiny spaces between itand its framework, had also rendered these cracks utterly imperceptibleto the eye. So accurately was it fashioned, indeed, that no one who didnot know its secret would have discovered it if they searched for monthsor years. 

Though at the time Benita took little note of such details, thepassage beyond and the stair descending from it showed the same perfectworkmanship. Evidently this secret way dated not from the Portugueseperiod, but from that of the Phoenicians or other ancients, to whosetreasure-chamber it was the approach, opening as it did from theirholy of holies, to which none were admitted save the head priests. Thepassage, which was about seven feet high by four wide, had been hewn outof the live rock of the mountain, for thousands of little marks left bythe workmen's chisels were still discernible upon its walls. So it waswith the stair, that had been but little used, and remained fresh as theday when it was finished. 

Down the steps, candle in hand, flitted Benita, counting them as shewent. The thirtieth brought her to a landing. Here it was that she sawthe first traces of that treasure which they had suffered so much tofind. Something glittered at her feet. She picked it up. It was a littlebar of gold weighing two or three ounces that doubtless had been droppedthere. Throwing it down again she looked in front of her, and to herdismay saw a door of wood with iron bolts. But the bolts had never beenshot, and when she pulled at it the door creaked upon its rusty hingesand opened. She was on the threshold of the treasure-chamber!

It was square and of the size of a small room, packed on either sidealmost to the low, vaulted roof with small bags of raw hide, carelesslyarranged. Quite near to the door one of these bags had slipped downand burst open. It was filled with gold, some in ingots and some in rawnuggets, for there they lay in a shining, scattered heap. As she stoopedto look it came into the mind of Benita that her father had said that inher trance she had told them that one of the bags of treasure was burst, and that the skin of which it had been made was black and red. Behold!before her lay the burst bag, and the colour of the hide was black andred. 

She shivered. The thing was uncanny, terrible. Uncanny was it alsoto see in the thick dust, which in the course of twenty or more ofcenturies had gathered on the floor, the mark of footprints, those ofthe last persons who had visited this place. There had been two of them, a man and a woman, and they were no savages, for they wore shoes. Benitaplaced her foot in the print left by that dead woman. It filled itexactly, it might have been her own. Perhaps, she thought to herself, that other Benita had descended here with her father, after thePortuguese had hidden away their wealth, that she might be shown whereit was, and of what it consisted. 

One more glance at all this priceless, misery-working gold, and on shewent, she who was seeking the gold of life and liberty for herself andhim who lay above. Supposing that the stairway ended there? She stopped, she looked round, but could see no other door. To see the better shehalted and opened the glass of her lantern. Still she could perceivenothing, and her heart sank. Yet why did the candle flicker so fiercely?And why was the air in this deep place so fresh? She walked forward apace or two, then noticed suddenly that those footprints of the deadthat she was following disappeared immediately in front of her, and shestopped. 

It was but just in time. One step more and she would have fallen downthe mouth of a deep pit. Once it had been covered with a stone, but thisstone was removed, and had never been replaced. Look! there it stoodagainst the wall of the chamber. Well was this for Benita, since herfrail strength would not have sufficed to stir that massive block, evenif she had discovered its existence beneath the dust. 

Now she saw that down the pit ran another ladderlike stair of stone, very narrow and precipitous. Without hesitation she began its descent. Down she went and down--one hundred steps, two hundred steps, twohundred and seventy-five steps, and all the way wherever the dust hadgathered the man's and the woman's footprints ran before her. There wasa double line of them, one line going down and the other line returning. Those that returned were the last, for often they appeared over thosethat descended. Why had these dead people returned, Benita wondered. 

The stair had ended; now she was in a kind of natural cave, for itssides and roof were rugged; moreover, water trickled and dripped fromthem. It was not very large, and it smelt horribly of mud and otherthings. Again she searched by the feeble light of her candle, but couldsee no exit. Suddenly she saw something else, however, for steppingon what she took to be a rock, to her horror it moved beneath her. Sheheard a snap as of jaws, a violent blow upon the leg nearly knockedher off her feet, and as she staggered backwards she saw a huge andloathsome shape rushing away into the darkness. The rock that she hadtrodden on was a crocodile which had its den here! With a little screamshe retreated to her stair. Death she had expected--but to be eaten bycrocodiles!

Yet as Benita stood there panting a blessed hope rose in her breast. Ifa crocodile came in there it must also get out, and where such a greatcreature could go, a woman would be able to follow. Also, she must benear the water, since otherwise it could never have chosen this hole forits habitation. She collected her courage, and having clapped her handsand waved the lantern about to scare any alligators that might still belurking there, hearing and seeing nothing more, she descended to whereshe had trodden upon the reptile. Evidently this was its bed, forits long body had left an impress upon the mud, and all about lay theremains of creatures that it had brought in for food. Moreover, a pathran outwards, its well-worn trail distinct even in that light. 

She followed this path, which ended apparently in a blank wall. Then itwas that Benita guessed why those dead folks' footprints had returned, for here had been a doorway which in some past age those who used itbuilt up with blocks of stone and cement. How, then, did the crocodileget out? Stooping down she searched, and perceived, a few yards to theright of the door, a hole that looked as though it were water-worn. Now Benita thought that she understood. The rock was softer here, andcenturies of flood had eaten it away, leaving a crack in the stratumwhich the crocodiles had found out and enlarged. Down she went on herhands and knees, and thrusting the lantern in front of her, crept alongthat noisome drain, for this was what it resembled. And now--oh! now shefelt air blowing in her face, and heard the sound of reeds whispering, and water running, and saw hanging like a lamp in the blue sky, a star--the morning star! Benita could have wept, she could haveworshipped it, yet she pushed on between rocks till she found herselfamong tall reeds, and standing in water. She had gained the banks of theZambesi. 

Instantly, by instinct as it were, Benita extinguished her candle, fearing lest it should betray her, for constant danger had made her verycunning. The dawn had not yet broken, but the waning moon and the starsgave a good light. She paused to look. There above her towered theoutermost wall of Bambatse, against which the river washed, except atsuch times as the present, when it was very low. 

So she was not in the fortress as she had hoped, but without it, and oh!what should she do? Go back again? How would that serve her father orherself? Go on? Then she might fall into the hands of the Matabele whosecamp was a little lower down, as from her perch upon the top of the coneshe had seen that poor white man do. Ah! the white man! If only he livedand she could reach him! Perhaps they had not killed him after all. Itwas madness, yet she would try to discover; something impelled her totake the risk. If she failed and escaped, perhaps then she might call tothe Makalanga, and they would let down a rope and draw her up the wallbefore the Matabele caught her. She would not go back empty-handed, todie in that dreadful place with her poor father. Better perish here inthe sweet air and beneath the stars, even if it were upon a Matabelespear, or by a bullet from her own pistol. 

She looked about her to take her bearings in case it should ever benecessary for her to return to the entrance of the cave. This provedeasy, for a hundred or so feet above her--where the sheer face of thecliff jutted out a little, at that very spot indeed on which traditionsaid that the body of the Señora da Ferreira had struck in its fall, andthe necklace Benita wore to-day was torn from her--a stunted mimosa grewin some cleft of the rock. To mark the crocodile run itself she bentdown a bunch of reeds, and having first lit a few Tandstickor brimstonematches and thrown them about inside of it, that the smell of them mightscare the beast should it wish to return, she set her lantern behind astone near to the mouth of the hole. 

Then Benita began her journey which, when the river was high, it wouldnot have been possible for her to make except by swimming. As it was, a margin of marsh was left between her and the steep, rocky side of themount from which the great wall rose, and through this she made her way. Never was she likely to forget that walk. The tall reeds drippedtheir dew upon her until she was soaked; long, black-tailedfinches--saccaboolas the natives call them--flew up undisturbed, andlobbed away across the river; owls flitted past and bitterns boomed atthe coming of the dawn. Great fish splashed also in the shallows, orwere they crocodiles? Benita hoped not--for one day she had seen enoughof crocodiles. 

It was all very strange. Could she be the same woman, she wondered, who not a year before had been walking with her cousins down WestbourneGrove, and studying Whiteley's windows? What would these cousins saynow if they could see her, white-faced, large-eyed, desperate, splashingthrough the mud upon the unknown banks of the Zambesi, flying from deathto death!

On she struggled, above her the pearly sky in which the stars werefading, around her the wet reeds, and pervading all the heavy low-lyingmists of dawn. She was past the round of the walls, and at length stoodupon dry ground where the Matabele had made their camp. But in that fogshe saw no Matabele; probably their fires were out, and she chancedto pass between the sentries. Instinctively, more than by reason, sheheaded for that hillock upon which she had seen the white man's waggon, in the vague hope that it might still be there. On she struggled, stillon, till at length she blundered against something soft and warm, andperceived that it was an ox tied to a trek-tow, beyond which were otheroxen and a white waggon-cap. 

So it _was_ still there! But the white man, where was he? Through thedense mist Benita crept to the disselboom. Then, seeing and hearingnothing, she climbed to the voorkissie and kneeling on it, separatedthe tent flaps and peered into the waggon. Still she could see nothingbecause of the mist, yet she heard something, a man breathing in hissleep. Somehow she thought that it was a white man; a Kaffir did notbreathe like that. She did not know what to do, so remained kneelingthere. It seemed as though the man who was asleep began to feel herpresence, for he muttered to himself--surely the words were English!Then quite suddenly he struck a match and lit a candle which stood ina beer bottle by his side. She could not see his face while he lit thematch, for his arm hid it, and the candle burned up slowly. Then thefirst thing she saw was the barrel of a revolver pointing straight ather. 

"Now, my black friend, " said a pleasant voice, "down you go or I shoot. One, two! Oh, my God!"

The candle burned up, its light fell upon the white, elfish face ofBenita, whose long dark hair streamed about her; it shone in her greateyes. Still she could see nothing, for it dazzled her. 

"Oh, my God!" said the voice again. "Benita! Benita! Have you come totell me that I must join you? Well, I am ready, my sweet, my sweet! NowI shall hear your answer. "

"Yes, " she whispered, and crawling forward down the cartel Benita fellupon his breast. 

For she knew him at last--dead or living she cared not--she knew him, and out of hell crept to him, her heaven and her home!

XXIII

BENITA GIVES HER ANSWER

"Your answer, Benita, " Robert said dreamily, for to him this thingseemed a dream. 

"Have I not given it, months ago? Oh, I remember, it was only in myheart, not on my lips, when that blow fell on me! Then afterwards Iheard what you had done and I nearly died. I wished that I might dieto be with you, but I could not. I was too strong; now I understand thereason. Well, it seems that we are both living, and whatever happens, here is my answer, if it is worth anything to you. Once and for all, I love you. I am not ashamed to say it, because very soon we may beseparated for the last time. But I cannot talk now, I have come here tosave my father. "

"Where is he, Benita?"

"Dying in a cave up at the top of that fortress. I got down by a secretway. Are the Matabele still here?"

"Very much so, " he answered. "But something has happened. My guard wokeme an hour ago to say that a messenger had arrived from their king, Lobengula, and now they are talking over the message. That is how youcame to get through, otherwise the sentries would have assegaied you, the brutes, " and he drew her to him and kissed her passionately for thefirst time; then, as though ashamed of himself, let her go. 

"Have you anything to eat?" she asked. "I--I--am starving. I didn't feelit before, but now----"

"Starving, you starving, while I--look, here is some cold meat whichI could not get down last night, and put by for the Kaffirs. GreatHeavens! that I should feed you with Kaffirs' leavings! But it isgood--eat it. "

Benita took the stuff in her fingers and swallowed it greedily; shewho for days had lived on nothing but a little biscuit and biltong. Ittasted delicious to her--never had she eaten anything so good. And allthe while he watched her with glowing eyes. 

"How can you look at me?" she said at length. "I must be horrible; Ihave been living in the dark and crawling through mud. I trod upon acrocodile!" and she shuddered. 

"Whatever you are I never want to see you different, " he answeredslowly. "To me you are most beautiful. "

Even then, wreck as she was, the poor girl flushed, and there was a mistin her eyes as she looked up and said:

"Thank you. I don't care now what happens to me, and what has happeneddoesn't matter at all. But can we get away?"

"I don't know, " he answered; "but I doubt it. Go and sit on thewaggon-box for a few minutes while I dress, and we will see. "

Benita went. The mist was thinning now, and through it she saw a sightat which her heart sank, for between her and the mount Bambatse Matabelewere pouring towards their camp on the river's edge. They were cut off. A couple of minutes later Robert joined her, and as he came she lookedat him anxiously in the growing light. He seemed older than whenthey had parted on the _Zanzibar_; changed, too, for now his face wasserious, and he had grown a beard; also, he appeared to limp. 

"I am afraid there is an end, " she said, pointing to the Matabele below. 

"Yes, it looks like it. But like you, I say, what does it matter now?"and he took her hand in his, adding: "let us be happy while we can ifonly for a few minutes. They will be here presently. "

"What are you?" she asked. "A prisoner?"

"That's it. I was following you when they captured me; for I have beenhere before and knew the way. They were going to kill me on generalprinciples, only it occurred to one of them who was more intelligentthan the rest that I, being a white man, might be able to show them howto storm the place. Now I was sure that you were there, for I saw youstanding on that point, though they thought you were the Spirit ofBambatse. So I wasn't anxious to help them, for then--you know whathappens when the Matabele are the stormers! But--as you still lived--Iwasn't anxious to die either. So I set them to work to dig a hole withtheir assegais and sharp axes, through granite. They have completedexactly twenty feet of it, and I reckon that there are one hundred andforty to go. Last night they got tired of that tunnel and talked ofkilling me again, unless I could show them a better plan. Now all thefat is in the fire, and I don't know what is to happen. Hullo! here theycome. Hide in the waggon, quick!"

Benita obeyed, and from under cover of the tent where the Matabele couldnot see her, watched and listened. The party that approached consistedof a chief and about twenty men, who marched behind him as a guard. Benita knew that chief. He was the captain Maduna, he of the royal bloodwhose life she had saved. By his side was a Natal Zulu, Robert Seymour'sdriver, who could speak English and acted as interpreter. 

"White man, " said Maduna, "a message has reached us from our king. Lobengula makes a great war and has need of us. He summons us back fromthis petty fray, this fight against cowards who hide behind walls, whomotherwise we would have killed, everyone, yes, if we sat here till wegrew old. So for this time we leave them alone. "

Robert answered politely that he was glad to hear it, and wished them agood journey. 

"Wish yourself a good journey, white man, " was the stern reply. 

"Why? Do you desire that I should accompany you to Lobengula?"

"No, you go before us to the kraal of the Black One who is even greaterthan the child of Moselikatse, to that king who is called Death. "

Robert crossed his arms and said: "Say on. "

"White man, I promised you life if you would show us how to pierce orclimb those walls. But you have made fools of us--you have set us to cutthrough rock with spears and axes. Yes, to hoe at rock as though it weresoil--you who with the wisdom of your people could have taught us somebetter way. Therefore we must go back to our king disgraced, havingfailed in his service, and therefore you who have mocked us shall die. Come down now, that we may kill you quietly, and learn whether or no youare a brave man. "

Then it was, while her lover's hand was moving towards the pistol hiddenbeneath his coat, that Benita, with a quick movement, emerged from thewaggon in which she crouched, and stood up at his side upon the drivingbox. 

"_Ow!_" said the Captain. "It is the White Maiden. Now how came shehere? Surely this is great magic. Can a woman fly like a bird?" and theystared at her amazed. 

"What does it matter how I came, chief Maduna?" she answered in Zulu. "Yet I will tell you why I came. It was to save you from dipping yourspear in the innocent blood, and bringing on your head the curse of theinnocent blood. Answer me now. Who gave you and your brother yonder yourlives within that wall when the Makalanga would have torn you limb fromlimb, as hyenas tear a buck? Was it I or another?"

"Inkosi-kaas--Chieftainess, " replied the great Captain, raising hisbroad spear in salute. "It was you and no other. "

"And what did you promise me then, Prince Maduna?"

"Maiden of high birth, I promised you your life and your goods, shouldyou ever fall into my power. "

"Does a leader of the Amandabele, one of the royal blood, lie like aMashona or a Makalanga slave? Does he do worse--tell half the truthonly, like a cheat who buys and keeps back half the price?" she askedcontemptuously. "Maduna, you promised me not one life, but two, twolives and the goods that belong to both. Ask of your brother there, whowas witness of the words. "

"Great Heavens!" muttered Robert Seymour to himself, as he looked atBenita standing with outstretched hand and flashing eyes. "Who wouldhave thought that a starved woman could play such a part with death onthe hazard?"

"It is as this daughter of white chiefs says, " answered the man to whomshe had appealed. "When she freed us from the fangs of those dogs, youpromised her two lives, my brother, one for yours and one for mine. "

"Hear him, " went on Benita. "He promised me two lives, and how did thisprince of the royal blood keep his promise? When I and the old man, myfather, rode hence in peace, he loosed his spears upon us; he hunted us. Yet it was the hunters who fell into the trap, not the hunted. "

"Maiden, " replied Maduna, in a shamed voice, "that was your fault, notmine. If you had appealed to me I would have let you go. But you killedmy sentry, and then the chase began, and ere I knew who you were myrunners were out of call. "

"Little time had I to ask your mercy; but so be it, " said Benita. "Iaccept your word, and I forgive you that offence. Now fulfil your oath. Begone and leave us in peace. "

Still Maduna hesitated. 

"I must make report to the king, " he said. "What is this white man toyou that I should spare him? I give you your life and your father'slife, not that of this white man who has tricked us. If he were yourfather, or your brother, it would be otherwise. But he is a stranger, and belongs to me, not to you. "

"Maduna, " she asked, "do women such as I am share the waggon of astranger? This man is more to me than father or brother. He is myhusband, and I claim his life. "

"_Ow!_" said the spokesman of the audience, "we understand now. She ishis wife, and has a right to him. If she were not his wife she would notbe in his waggon. It is plain that she speaks the truth, though how shecame here we do not know, unless, as we think, she is a witch, " and hesmiled at his own cleverness. 

"Inkosi-kaas, " said Maduna, "you have persuaded me. I give you the lifeof that white fox, your husband, and I hope that he will not trick youas he has tricked us, and set you to hoe rock instead of soil, " and helooked at Robert wrathfully. "I give him to you and all his belongings. Now, is there anything else that you would ask?"

"Yes, " replied Benita coolly, "you have many oxen there which you tookfrom the other Makalanga. Mine are eaten and I need cattle to drawmy waggon. I ask a present of twenty of them, and, " she added by anafterthought, "two cows with young calves, for my father is sick yonder, and must have milk. "

"Oh! give them to her. Give them to her, " said Maduna, with a tragicgesture that in any other circumstances would have made Benita laugh. "Give them to her and see that they are good ones, before she asks ourshields and spears also--for after all she saved my life. "

So men departed to fetch those cows and oxen, which presently weredriven in. 

While this talk was in progress the great impi of the Matabele wasmassing for the march, on the flat ground a little to the right ofthem. Now they began to come past in companies, preceded by the ladswho carried the mats and cooking-pots and drove the captured sheep andcattle. By this time the story of Benita, the witch-woman whom theycould not kill, and who had mysteriously flown from the top of the peakinto their prisoner's waggon, had spread among them. They knew also thatit was she who had saved their general from the Makalanga, and those whohad heard her admired the wit and courage with which she had pleadedand won her cause. Therefore, as they marched past in their companies, singing a song of abuse and defiance of the Makalanga who peered at themfrom the top of the wall, they lifted their great spears in salutationto Benita standing upon the waggon-box. 

Indeed, they were a wondrous and imposing spectacle, such a one as fewwhite women have ever seen. 

At length all were gone except Maduna and a body-guard of two hundredmen. He walked to the front of the waggon and addressed Robert Seymour. 

"Listen, you fox who set us to hoe granite, " he said indignantly. "Youhave outwitted us this time, but if ever I meet you again, then you die. Now I have given you your life, but, " he added, almost pleadingly, "ifyou are really brave as white men are said to be, will you not come downand fight me man to man for honour's sake?"

"I think not, " answered Robert, when he understood this challenge, "forwhat chance should I have against so brave a warrior? Also this lady--mywife--needs my help on her journey home. "

Maduna turned from him contemptuously to Benita. 

"I go, " he said, "and fear not; you will meet no Matabele on thatjourney. Have you more words for me, O Beautiful One, with a tongue ofoil and a wit that cuts like steel?"

"Yes, " answered Benita. "You have dealt well with me, and in reward Igive you of my good luck. Bear this message to your king from theWhite Witch of Bambatse, for I am she and no other. That he leave theseMakalanga, my servants, to dwell unharmed in their ancient home, andthat he lift no spear against the White Men, lest that evil which theMolimo foretold to you, should fall upon him. "

"Ah!" said Maduna, "now I understand how you flew from the mountain topinto this man's waggon. You are not a white woman, you are the ancientWitch of Bambatse herself. You have said it, and with such it is notwell to war. Great lady of Magic, Spirit from of old, I salute you, andI thank you for your gifts of life and fortune. Farewell. "

Then he, too, stalked away at the head of his guard, so that presently, save for the three Zulu servants and the herd of cattle, Robert andBenita were left utterly alone. 

Now, her part played and the victory won, Benita burst into tears andfell upon her lover's breast. 

Presently she remembered, and freed herself from his arms. 

"I am a selfish wretch, " she said. "How dare I be so happy when myfather is dead or dying? We must go at once. "

"Go where?" asked the bewildered Robert. 

"To the top of the mountain, of course, whence I came. Oh! please don'tstop to question me, I'll tell you as we walk. Stay, " and she calledto the Zulu driver, who with an air of utter amazement was engaged inmilking one of the gift cows, to fill two bottles with the milk. 

"Had we not better shout to the Makalanga to let us in?" suggestedRobert, while this was being done, and Benita wrapped some cooked meatin a cloth. 

"No, no. They will think I am what I said I was--the Witch of Bambatse, whose appearance heralds misfortune, and fear a trap. Besides, we couldnot climb the top wall. You must follow my road, and if you can trustthem, bring two of those men with you with lanterns. The lad can stop toherd the cattle. "

Three minutes later, followed by the two Zulus, they were walking--orrather, running--along the banks of the Zambesi. 

"Why do you not come quicker?" she asked impatiently. "Oh, I beg yourpardon, you are lame. Robert, what made you lame, and oh! why are younot dead, as they all swore you were, you, you--hero, for I know thatpart of the story?"

"For a very simple reason, Benita: because I didn't die. When thatKaffir took the watch from me I was insensible, that's all. The sunbrought me to life afterwards. Then some natives turned up, good peoplein their way, although I could not understand a word they said. Theymade a stretcher of boughs and carried me for some miles to their kraalinland. It hurt awfully, for my thigh was broken, but I arrived at last. There a Kaffir doctor set my leg in his own fashion; it has left it aninch shorter than the other, but that's better than nothing. 

"In that place I lay for two solid months, for there was no whiteman within a hundred miles, and if there had been I could not havecommunicated with him. Afterwards I spent another month limping uptowards Natal, until I could buy a horse. The rest is very short. Hearing of my reported death, I came as fast as I could to your father'sfarm, Rooi Krantz, where I learned from the old vrouw Sally that you hadtaken to treasure-hunting, the same treasure that I told you of on the_Zanzibar_. 

"So I followed your spoor, met the servants whom you had sent back, whotold me all about you, and in due course, after many adventures, as theysay in a book, walked into the camp of our friends, the Matabele. 

"They were going to kill me at once, when suddenly you appeared uponthat point of rock, glittering like--like the angel of the dawn. I knewthat it must be you, for I had found out about your attempted escape, and how you were hunted back to this place. But the Matabele all thoughtthat it was the Spirit of Bambatse, who has a great reputation in theseparts. Well, that took off their attention, and afterwards, as I toldyou, it occurred to them that I might be an engineer. You know the rest, don't you?"

"Yes, " answered Benita softly. "I know the rest. "

Then they plunged into the reeds and were obliged to stop talking, sincethey must walk in single file. Presently Benita looked up and saw thatshe was under the thorn which grew in the cleft of the rock. Also, withsome trouble she found the bunch of reeds that she had bent down, tomark the inconspicuous hole through which she had crept, and by it herlantern. It seemed weeks since she had left it there. 

"Now, " she said, "light your candles, and if you see a crocodile, pleaseshoot. "

XXIV

THE TRUE GOLD

"Let me go first, " said Robert. 

"No, " answered Benita. "I know the way; but please do watch for thathorrible crocodile. "

Then she knelt down and crept into the hole, while after her cameRobert, and after him the two Zulus, who protested that they were notant-bears to burrow under ground. Lifting the lantern she searched thecave, and as she could see no signs of the crocodile, walked on boldlyto where the stair began. 

"Be quick, " she whispered to Robert, for in that place it seemed naturalto speak low. "My father is above and near his death. I am dreadfullyafraid lest we should be too late. "

So they toiled up the endless steps, a very strange procession, for thetwo Zulus, bold men enough outside, were shaking with fright, till atlength Benita clambered out of the trap door on to the floor of thetreasure chamber, and turned to help Robert, whose lameness made himsomewhat slow and awkward. 

"What's all that?" he asked, pointing to the hide sacks, while theywaited for the two scared Kaffirs to join them. 

"Oh!" she answered indifferently, "gold, I believe. Look, there is someof it on the floor, over Benita da Ferreira's footsteps. "

"Gold! Why, it must be worth----! And who on earth is Benita daFerreira?"

"I will tell you afterwards. She has been dead two or three hundredyears; it was her gold, or her people's, and those are her footprints inthe dust. How stupid you are not to understand! Never mind the hatefulstuff; come on quickly. "

So they passed the door which she had opened that morning, and clamberedup the remaining stairway. So full was Benita of terrors that shecould never remember how she climbed them. Suppose that the foot of thecrucifix had swung to; suppose that her father were dead; suppose thatJacob Meyer had broken into the cave? Well for herself she was no longerafraid of Jacob Meyer. Oh, they were there! The heavy door _had_ begunto close, but mercifully her bit of rock kept it ajar. 

"Father! Father!" she cried, running towards the tent. 

No answer came. She threw aside the flap, held down the lantern andlooked. There he lay, white and still. She was too late!

"He is dead, he is dead!" she wailed. Robert knelt down at her side, andexamined the old man, while she waited in an agony. 

"He ought to be, " he said slowly; "but, Benita, I don't think he is. Ican feel his heart stir. No, don't stop to talk. Pour out some of thatsquareface, and here, mix it with this milk. "

She obeyed, and while he held up her father's head, with a tremblinghand emptied a little of the drink into his mouth. At first it ran outagain, then almost automatically he swallowed some, and they knew thathe was alive, and thanked Heaven. Ten minutes later Mr. Clifford wassitting up staring at them with dull and wondering eyes, whileoutside the two Zulus, whose nerves had now utterly broken down, werecontemplating the pile of skeletons in the corner and the white toweringcrucifix, and loudly lamenting that they should have been brought toperish in this place of bones and ghosts. 

"Is it Jacob Meyer who makes that noise?" asked Mr. Clifford faintly. "And, Benita, where have you been so long, and--who is this gentlemanwith you? I seem to remember his face. "

"He is the white man who was in the waggon, father, an old friend cometo life again. Robert, can't you stop the howling of those Kaffirs?Though I am sure I don't wonder that they howl; I should have likedto do so for days. Oh! father, father, don't you understand me? We aresaved, yes, snatched out of hell and the jaws of death. "

"Is Jacob Meyer dead, then?" he asked. 

"I don't know where he is or what has happened to him, and I don't care, but perhaps we had better find out. Robert, there is a madman outside. Make the Kaffirs pull down that wall, would you? and catch him. "

"What wall? What madman?" he asked, staring at her. 

"Oh, of course you don't know that, either. You know nothing. I'll showyou, and you must be prepared, for probably he will shoot at us. "

"It all sounds a little risky, doesn't it?" asked Robert doubtfully. 

"Yes, but we must take the risk. We cannot carry my father down thatplace, and unless we can get him into light and air soon, he willcertainly die. The man outside is Jacob Meyer, his partner--you rememberhim. All these weeks of hardship and treasure-hunting have sent him offhis head, and he wanted to mesmerize me and----"

"And what? Make love to you?"

She nodded, then went on:

"So when he could not get his way about the mesmerism and so forth, hethreatened to murder my father, and that is why we had to hide in thiscave and build ourselves up, till at last I found the way out. "

"Amiable gentleman, Mr. Jacob Meyer, now as always, " said Robertflushing. "To think that you should have been in the power of ascoundrel like that! Well, I hope to come square with him. "

"Don't hurt him, dear, unless you are obliged. Remember he is notresponsible. He thought he saw a ghost here the other day. "

"Unless he behaves himself he is likely to see a good many soon, "muttered Robert. 

Then they went down the cave, and as silently as possible began to workat the wall, destroying in a few minutes what had been built up with somuch labour. When it was nearly down the Zulus were told that there wasan enemy outside, and that they must help to catch him if necessary, butwere not to harm him. They assented gladly enough; indeed, to get out ofthat cave they would have faced half a dozen enemies. 

Now there was a hole right through the wall, and Robert bade Benitastand to one side. Then as soon as his eyes became accustomed to thelittle light that penetrated there, he drew his revolver and beckonedthe Kaffirs to follow. Down the passage they crept, slowly, lest theyshould be blinded when they came to the glare of the sunshine, whileBenita waited with a beating heart. 

A little time went by, she never knew how long, till suddenly a rifleshot rang through the stillness. Benita was able to bear no more. Sherushed down the winding passage, and presently, just beyond its mouth, in a blurred and indistinct fashion saw that the two white men wererolling together on the ground, while the Kaffirs sprang round watchingfor an opportunity to seize one of them. At that moment they succeeded, and Robert rose, dusting his hands and knees. 

"Amiable gentleman, Mr. Jacob Meyer, " he repeated. "I could have killedhim as his back was towards me, but didn't because you asked me not. Then I stumbled with my lame leg, and he whipped round and let drivewith his rifle. Look, " and he showed her where the bullet had cut hisear. "Luckily I got hold of him before he could loose off another. "

Benita could find no words, her heart was too full of thankfulness. Onlyshe seized Robert's hand and kissed it. Then she looked at Jacob. 

He was lying upon the broad of his back, the two big Zulus holding hisarms and legs; his lips were cracked, blue and swollen; his face wasalmost black, but his eyes still shone bright with insanity and hate. 

"I know you, " he screamed hoarsely to Robert. "You are another ghost, the ghost of that man who was drowned. Otherwise my bullet would havekilled you. "

"Yes, Mr. Meyer, " Seymour answered, "I am a ghost. Now, you boys, here'sa bit of rope. Tie his hands behind his back and search him. There is apistol in that pocket. "

They obeyed, and presently Meyer was disarmed and bound fast to a tree. 

"Water, " he moaned. "For days I have had nothing but the dew I couldlick off the leaves. "

Pitying his plight, Benita ran into the cave and returned presently witha tin of water. One of the Kaffirs held it to his lips, and he drankgreedily. Then, leaving one Zulu to watch him, Robert, Benita, andthe other Zulu went back, and as gently as they could carried out Mr. Clifford on his mattress, placing him in the shade of a rock, where helay blessing them feebly, because they had brought him into the lightagain. At the sight of the old man Meyer's rage blazed up afresh. 

"Ah, " he screamed, "if only I had killed you long ago, she would be minenow, not that fellow's. It was you who stood between us. "

"Look here, my friend, " broke in Robert. "I forgive you everything else, but, mad or sane, be good enough to keep Miss Clifford's name off yourlips, or I will hand you over to those Kaffirs to be dealt with as youdeserve. "

Then Jacob understood, and was silent. They gave him more water andfood to eat, some of the meat that they had brought with them, which hedevoured ravenously. 

"Are you sensible now?" asked Robert when he had done. "Then listen tome; I have some good news for you. That treasure you have been huntingfor has been found. We are going to give you half of it, one of thewaggons and some oxen, and clear you out of this place. Then if I seteyes on you again before we get to a civilized country, I shoot you likea dog. "

"You lie!" said Meyer sullenly. "You want to turn me out into thewilderness to be murdered by the Makalanga or the Matabele. "

"Very well, " said Robert. "Untie him, boys, and bring him along. I willshow him whether I lie. "

"Where are they taking me to?" asked Meyer. "Not into the cave? I won'tgo into the cave; it is haunted. If it hadn't been for the ghost thereI would have broken down their wall long ago, and killed that old snakebefore her eyes. Whenever I went near that wall I saw it watching me. "

"First time I ever heard of a ghost being useful, " remarked Robert. "Bring him along. No, Benita, he shall see whether I am a liar. "

So the lights were lit, and the two stalwart Zulus hauled Jacob forward, Robert and Benita following. At first he struggled violently, then, onfinding that he could not escape, went on, his teeth chattering withfear. 

"It is cruel, " remonstrated Benita. 

"A little cruelty will not do him any harm, " Robert answered. "He hasplenty to spare for other people. Besides, he is going to get what hehas been looking for so long. "

They led Jacob to the foot of the crucifix, where a paroxysm seemed toseize him, then pushed him through the swinging doorway beneath, and down the steep stairs, till once more they all stood in thetreasure-chamber. 

"Look, " said Robert, and, drawing his hunting-knife, he slashed one ofthe hide bags, whereon instantly there flowed out a stream of beads andnuggets. "Now, my friend, am I a liar?" he asked. 

At this wondrous sight Jacob's terror seemed to depart from him, and hegrew cunning. 

"Beautiful, beautiful!" he said, "more than I thought--sacks and sacksof gold. I shall be a king indeed. No, no, it is all a dream--like therest. I don't believe it's there. Loose my arms and let me feel it. "

"Untie him, " said Robert, at the same time drawing his pistol andcovering the man; "he can't do us any hurt. "

The Kaffirs obeyed, and Jacob, springing at the slashed bag, plunged histhin hands into it. 

"No lie, " he screamed, "no lie, " as he dragged the stuff out and smeltat it. "Gold, gold, gold! Hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth ofgold! Let's make a bargain, Englishman, and I won't kill you as I meantto do. You take the girl and give me all the gold, " and in his ecstasyhe began to pour the glittering ingots over his head and body. 

"A new version of the tale of Danaë, " began Robert in a sarcasticvoice, then suddenly paused, for a change had come over Jacob's face, aterrible change. 

It turned ashen beneath the tan, his eyes grew large and round, he putup his hands as though to thrust something from him, his whole frameshivered, and his hair seemed to erect itself. Slowly he retreatedbackwards, and would have fallen down the unclosed trap-hole had not oneof the Kaffirs pushed him away. Back he went, still back, till he struckthe further wall and stood there, perhaps for half a minute. He liftedhis hand and pointed first to those ancient footprints, some of whichstill remained in the dust of the floor, and next, as they thought, atBenita. His lips moved fast, he seemed to be pleading, remonstrating, yet--and this was the ghastliest part of it--from them there came nosound. Lastly, his eyes rolled up until only the whites of them werevisible, his face became wet as though water had been poured over it, and, still without a sound, he fell forward and moved no more. 

So terrible was the scene that with a howl of fear the two Kaffirsturned and fled up the stairway. Robert sprang to the Jew, draggedhim over on to his back, put his hand upon his breast and lifted hiseyelids. 

"Dead, " he said. "Stone dead. Privation, brain excitement, heartfailure--that's the story. "

"Perhaps, " answered Benita faintly; "but really I think that I begin tobelieve in ghosts also. Look, I never noticed them before, and I didn'twalk there, but those footsteps seem to lead right up to him. " Then sheturned too and fled. 

Another week had gone by. The waggons were laden with a burden moreprecious perhaps than waggons have often borne before. In one of them, on a veritable bed of gold, slept Mr. Clifford, still very weak andill, but somewhat better than he had been, and with a good prospectof recovery, at any rate for a while. They were to trek a little afterdawn, and already Robert and Benita were up and waiting. She touched hisarm and said to him:

"Come with me. I have a fancy to see that place once more, for the lasttime. "

So they climbed the hill and the steep steps in the topmost wall thatMeyer had blocked--re-opened now--and reaching the mouth of the cave, lit the lamps which they had brought with them, and entered. There werethe fragments of the barricade that Benita had built with desperatehands, there was the altar of sacrifice standing cold and grey as it hadstood for perhaps three thousand years. There was the tomb of the oldmonk who had a companion now, for in it Jacob Meyer lay with him, hisbones covered by the _débris_ that he himself had dug out in his madsearch for wealth; and there the white Christ hung awful on His cross. Only the skeletons of the Portuguese were gone, for with the help of hisKaffirs Robert had moved them every one into the empty treasure-chamber, closing the trap beneath, and building up the door above, so that therethey might lie in peace at last. 

In this melancholy place they tarried but a little while, then, turningtheir backs upon it for ever, went out and climbed the granite cone towatch the sun rise over the broad Zambesi. Up it came in glory, thatsame sun which had shone upon the despairing Benita da Ferreira, andupon the English Benita when she had stood there in utter hopelessness, and seen the white man captured by the Matabele. 

Now, different was their state indeed, and there in that high place, whence perhaps many a wretched creature had been cast to death, whencecertainly the Portuguese maiden had sought her death, these two happybeings were not ashamed to give thanks to Heaven for the joy which ithad vouchsafed to them, and for their hopes of life full and long to betravelled hand in hand. Behind them was the terror of the cave, beneaththem were the mists of the valley, but above them the light shone androlled and sparkled, and above them stretched the eternal sky!

They descended the pillar, and near the foot of it saw an old mansitting. It was Mambo, the Molimo of the Makalanga: even when they werestill far away from him they knew his snow-white head and thin, asceticface. As they drew near Benita perceived that his eyes were closed, andwhispered to Robert that he was asleep. Yet he had heard them coming, and even guessed her thought. 

"Maiden, " he said in his gentle voice, "maiden who soon shall be a wife, I do not sleep, although I dream of you as I have dreamt before. Whatdid I say to you that day when first we met? That for you I had goodtidings; that though death was all about you, you need not fear; thatin this place you who had known great sorrow should find happinessand rest. Yet, maiden, you would not believe the words of the Munwali, spoken by his prophet's lips, as he at your side, who shall be yourhusband, would not believe me in years past when I told him that weshould meet again. "

"Father, " she answered, "I thought your rest was that which we find onlyin the grave. "

"You would not believe, " he went on without heeding her, "and thereforeyou tried to fly, and therefore your heart was torn with terror and withagony, when it should have waited for the end in confidence and peace. "

"Father, my trial was very sore. "

"Maiden, I know it, and because it was so sore that patient Spirit ofBambatse bore with you, and through it all guided your feet aright. Yes, with you has that Spirit gone, by day, by night, in the morning and inthe evening. Who was it that smote the man who lies dead yonder withhorror and with madness when he would have bent your will to his andmade you a wife to him? Who was it that told you the secret of thetreasure-pit, and what footsteps went before you down its stair? Who wasit that led you past the sentries of the Amandabele and gave you wit andpower to snatch your lord's life from Maduna's bloody hand? Yes, withyou it has gone and with you it will go. No more shall the White Witchstand upon the pillar point at the rising of the sun, or in the shiningof the moon. "

"Father, I have never understood you, and I do not understand you now, "said Benita. "What has this spirit to do with me?"

He smiled a little, then answered slowly:

"That I may not tell you; that you shall learn one day, but never here. When you also have entered into silence, then you shall learn. But I sayto you that this shall not be till your hair is as white as mine, andyour years are as many. Ah! you thought that I had deserted you, whenfearing for your father's life you wept and prayed in the darkness ofthe cave. Yet it was not so, for I did but suffer the doom which I hadread to fulfil itself as it must do. "

He rose to his feet and, resting on his staff, laid one withered handupon the head of Benita. 

"Maiden, " he said, "we meet no more beneath the sun. Yet because youhave brought deliverance to my people, because you are sweet and pureand true, take with you the blessing of Munwali, spoken by the mouth ofhis servant Mambo, the old Molimo of Bambatse. Though from time to timeyou must know tears and walk in the shade of sorrows, long and happyshall be your days with him whom you have chosen. Children shall springup about you, and children's children, and with them also shall theblessing go. The gold you white folk love is yours, and it shallmultiply and give food to the hungry and raiment to those that area-cold. Yet in your own heart lies a richer store that cannot melt away, the countless treasure of mercy and of love. When you sleep and whenyou wake Love shall take you by the hand, till at length he leads youthrough life's dark cave to that eternal house of purest gold which soonor late those that seek it shall inherit, " and with his staff he pointedto the glowing morning sky wherein one by one little rosy clouds floatedupwards and were lost. 

To Robert and to Benita's misty eyes they looked like bright-wingedangels throwing wide the black doors of night, and heralding thatconquering glory at whose advent despair and darkness flee away.