uman hearts from the cold scrutiny of glittering stars.

The last cry of his appeal to her mercy rose loud, vibrated under the
sombre canopy, darted among the boughs startling the white birds that
slept wing to wing--and died without an echo, strangled in the dense
mass of unstirring leaves. He could not see her face, but he heard
her sighs and the distracted murmur of indistinct words. Then, as he
listened holding his breath, she exclaimed suddenly--

"Have you heard him? He has cursed me because I love you. You brought
me suffering and strife--and his curse. And now you want to take me far
away where I would lose you, lose my life; because your love is my
life now. What else is there? Do not move," she cried violently, as he
stirred a little--"do not speak! Take this! Sleep in peace!"

He saw a shadowy movement of her arm. Something whizzed past and struck
the ground behind him, close to the fire. Instinctively he turned round
to look at it. A kriss without its sheath lay by the embers; a sinuous
dark object, looking like something that had been alive and was now
crushed, dead and very inoffensive; a black wavy outline very distinct
and still in the dull red glow. Without thinking he moved to pick it up,
stooping with the sad and humble movement of a beggar gathering the
alms flung into the dust of the roadside. Was this the answer to his
pleading, to the hot and living words that came from his heart? Was this
the answer thrown at him like an insult, that thing made of wood and
iron, insignificant and venomous, fragile and deadly? He held it by the
blade and looked at the handle stupidly for a moment before he let
it fall again at his feet; and when he turned round he faced only the
night:--the night immense, profound and quiet; a sea of darkness in
which she had disappeared without leaving a trace.

He moved forward with uncertain steps, putting out both his hands before
him with the anguish of a man blinded suddenly.

"Aissa!" he cried--"come to me at once."

He peered and listened, but saw nothing, heard nothing. After a while
the solid blackness seemed to wave before his eyes like a curtain
disclosing movements but hiding forms, and he heard light and hurried
footsteps, then the short clatter of the gate leading to Lakamba's
private enclosure. He sprang forward and brought up against the rough
timber in time to hear the words, "Quick! Quick!" and the sound of the
wooden bar dropped on the other side, securing