n Sihamba, "that
wisdom for which you prayed has come to me," and she told her all the
plan.

"It is very clever, and it may serve," answered Suzanne, "for I
understand these paints and can stain myself so that if my hair is cut
none would know me from a Kaffir. But, Sihamba, there is one thing which
I do not understand. What will you do? For if you attempt to escape your
stature will betray you."

"I?" hesitated the little woman, "nay, I do not know, I have never
thought of it. Doubtless I shall win through in this way or in that."

"You are deceiving me, Sihamba. Well, there is an end, I will not go
without you."

"Can you think of death and say that you will not go without me?"

"I can Sihamba."

"Can you think of your father and your mother and say that you will not
go without me?"

"I can, Sihamba."

"Can you think of your husband and say that you will not go without me?"

"I can," faltered Suzanne.

"Truly you are brave," laughed the little woman. "There is more courage
in that white heart of yours than in those of all the Umpondwana. Well,
sister, I also am brave, or at the least for these many moons I have set
myself a task, nor will I shrink from it at the end, and that is to save
you from Piet Van Vooren as once at a dearer price you saved me. Now,
hearken, for myself I have no fear; as I have said, doubtless in this
way or in that I shall win through, but it cannot be at your side. I
must rejoin you afterwards. What, you refuse to go? Then, Lady Swallow,
you send me down to death and your hands are red with my blood. I am
weary, I will not live to see more trouble; life is hard and death is
easy. Finish your own battle, Swallow, and fly out your flight alone,"
and drawing a knife from her girdle Sihamba laid it upon her knee.

"Do you mean that you will kill yourself if I refuse your prayer?"

"Nothing less, sister, and at once, for I thirst, and would seek some
land where there is water, or where we need none. It comes to this,
then: if you consent I may live, if you refuse I must die."

"I cannot do it," moaned Suzanne. "Let us die together."

Now Sihamba crept to her and whispered in her ear:

"Think of Ralph Kenzie and of what his life must be if you should die.
Think of those children who will come, and of that first kiss of love
found again which you must miss in death, whatever else it may have to
give. Think of the knife's point that you would change for it, or the
last sick rush do