It tasted very bitter to her, but this, Benita
reflected, was because they lacked milk and sugar. Supper ended, Meyer
rose and bowed to her, muttering that he was going to bed, and a few
minutes later Mr. Clifford followed his example. She went with her
father to the hut beneath the tree, and having helped him to remove his
coat, which now he seemed to find difficulty in doing for himself, bade
him good-night and returned to the fire.
It was very lonely there in the silence, for no sound came from either
the Matabele or the Makalanga camps, and the bright moonlight seemed to
people the place with fantastic shadows that looked alive. Benita cried
a little now that her father could not see her, and then also sought
refuge in bed. Evidently the end, whatever it might be, was near, and of
it she could not bear to think. Moreover, her eyes were strangely heavy,
so much so that before she had finished saying her prayers sleep fell
upon her, and she knew no more.
Had she remained as wakeful as it was often her fate to be during those
fearful days, towards midnight she might have heard some light-footed
creature creeping to her tent, and seen that the moon-rays which flowed
through the gaping and ill-closed flap were cut off by the figure of a
man with glowing eyes, whose projected arms waved over her mysteriously.
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