The thought was terrible--worse than all her other dangers put
together. True, she had her father to rely on, but he had been somewhat
ailing of late; age and these arduous journeys and anxieties had told
upon him. Supposing that anything were to happen to him--if he died, for
instance, how dreadful her position might become, left alone far from
the reach of help, with savages--and Jacob Meyer.
Oh! if it had not been for that dreadful shipwreck, how different might
be her lot to-day! Well, it was the thought of the shipwreck and of him
whom 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 now
she must face its issues. God still remained above her, and she would
put 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, that
she 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 very
little while afterwards, in the case of the Matabele soldier, he had
proved himself a prophet of awful power. Also--she knew not how, she
knew not why--now, as before, her inmost heart seemed to bear witness
that this old dreamer's words were true, and that for her, in some
strange manner unforeseen, there still remained a rest.
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