k and ill he could
hardly sit on his horse. That would be poor revenge for anyone. Give
him time to get well again, anyhow.

This told--to a certain extent--but what told still more was a
declaration, on the part of Zwabeka, that those who wanted to kill the
prisoner could fight for the privilege. This Makiwa was his prisoner,
and he intended to dispose of him as he chose.

By the time they gained their resting-place, the remote hollow in which
we have seen them, Lamont found himself most piteously ill; indeed it
seemed to matter but little to him whether the constant clamourings for
his death should be acceded to or not. He had almost ceased to care
whether he lived or died.

Seeing him sink lower and lower Zwabeka shook his head and muttered.
Over and above the advantage it would be when the rising had failed, to
be able to say to the Government, "Look now--here is one of your
commanders, who led against us. I have taken care of him, when the
people would have slain him. Have I not? Ask him." Over and above
this, we say, he had expected substantial reward at the hands of the man
himself. And now the man would not get well, seeming to prefer to die.
The native doctors--not necessarily despicable in cases known to them--
had been able to do nothing. Zwabeka was puzzled.

Just then, however, his luck seemed to turn. Some of his people who had
been out, partly on a scout, partly maraud, brought him some news. In
the result he went straight to the bedside--or rather blanket side--of
his prisoner.

"Hearken, Lamonti," he began, when the guard had got outside with
alacrity and a respectful salute. "You are not yet tired of life?"

"Almost," was the wan reply. "But why?"

"I can get you one of your own doctors. Will you send him word to
come?"

Lamont stared, half raising himself. "But--it is war time, or--has
peace been made?"

"Not so. But he shall come and go in safety." The other thought for a
moment. Then he said--"I dare not do it, Zwabeka. You are chief of
many, but not of the whole nation. If the man should come to harm at
the hands of others, would not I have lured him to his death? Who is
he?"

"_Au_! He cannot come to harm--Qubani says so," said the chief
impatiently. "It is the doctor who came with you, and slept at my
kraal."

Lamont started. Father Mathias! But then he was not a doctor, not in
the sense the chief had meant. Well, no matter. It would be good to
see once