iet Van Vooren should understand him.

"It seems, Piet Van Vooren," he said, "that you have stolen upon us
here to carry off my wife by violence after you have murdered me. These
crimes you may do, though I know well that if you do them they will be
revenged upon you amply, and upon you men also who take part in them.
And now I will not plead to you for mercy, but I ask one thing which you
cannot refuse, because those with you, Kaffirs though they be, will not
suffer it--five short minutes of time in which to bid farewell to my
new-wed wife."

"Not an instant," said Swart Piet, but at the words the black men who
were with him, and whose wicked hearts were touched with pity, began to
murmur so loudly, that he hesitated.

"At your bidding, Bull-Head," said one of them, "we have come to kill
this man and to carry away the white woman, and we will do it, for you
are our chief and we must obey you. But, if you will not give him the
little space for which he asks, wherein to bid farewell to his wife
before she becomes your wife, then we will have nothing more to do
with the matter. I say that our hearts are sick at it already, and,
Bull-Head, you kill a man, not a dog, and that by murder, not in fair
fight."

"As you will, fool," said Swart Piet. "Englishman, I give you five
minutes," and he drew a large silver watch from his pocket and held it
in his hand.

"Get out of hearing then, murderer," said Ralph, "for I have no breath
left to waste on you," and Piet obeying him, fell back a little and
stood gnawing his nails and staring at the pair.

"Suzanne, wife Suzanne," whispered Ralph, "we are about to part, since,
as you see, I must die, and your fate lies in the Hand of God. Yes, you
are made a widow before you are a wife; and, Suzanne, ah! that is the
worst of it, another takes you, even my murderer."

Now Suzanne, who till this moment had been as one stupefied, seemed to
gather up her strength and answered him calmly, saying:

"Truly, husband, things appear to be as you say, though what we have
done that they should be so, I cannot tell. Still comfort yourself, for
death comes to all of us soon or late, and whether it comes soon or late
makes little difference in the end, seeing that come it must."

"No, not death, it is your fate that makes the difference. How can I
bear to die and leave you the prey of that devil? Oh my God! my God! how
can I bear to die!"

"Have no fear, husband," went on Suzanne in the same