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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Benita, an African romance"

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 his
presence; the sense of it fell upon her like a cold shadow. Turning
round she beheld the man. He was standing close by, but above her, upon
a big granite boulder, in climbing which his soft veld schoons, or hide
shoes, had made no noise, for Meyer could move like a cat. The last rays
from the sinking sun struck him full, outlining his agile, nervous shape
against the sky, and in their intense red light, which flamed upon him,
he appeared terrible. He looked like a panther about to spring; his eyes
shone like a panther's, and Benita knew that she was the prey whom he
desired. Still, remembering her resolution, she determined to show no
fear, and addressed him:
"Good-evening, Mr. Meyer. Oh! I am so stiff that I cannot lift my neck
to look at you," and she laughed.
He bounded softly from the rock, like a panther again, and stood in
front of her.
"You should thank the God you believe in," he said, "that by now you are
not 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 out
to save us.


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