a lie or a misunderstanding. I never shot at Heer Allan in any kloof. Is
it likely that I should have done so when he had just nursed me back
to life? I never plotted with the Zulus for his death, which would have
meant the deaths of my uncle and my cousin and of all their companions.
Am I mad that I should do such a thing?"

"Not mad, but bad," screamed the vrouw. "I tell you, Heer Retief, it
is no lie. Ask those with me," she added, appealing to the others, who,
with the exception of Marais, answered as with one voice:

"No; it is no lie."

"Silence!" said the commandant. "Now, nephew Allan, tell us your story."

So I told him everything, of course leaving out all details. Even then
the tale was long, though it did not seem to be one that wearied my
hearers.

"Allemachte!" said Retief when I had finished, "this is a strange story,
the strangest that ever I heard. If it is true, Hernan Pereira, you
deserve to have your back set against a tree and to be shot."

"God in heaven!" he answered, "am I to be condemned on such a tale--I,
an innocent man? Where is the evidence? This Englishman tells all this
against me for a simple reason--that he has robbed me of the love of my
cousin, to whom I was affianced. Where are his witnesses?"

"As to the shooting at me in the kloof, I have none except God who saw
you," I answered. "As to the plot that you laid against me among the
Zulus, as it chances, however, there is one, Kambula, the captain
who was sent to take me as you had arranged, and who now commands our
escort."

"A savage!" exclaimed Pereira. "Is the tale of a savage to be taken
against that of a white man? Also, who will translate his story? You,
Mynheer Quatermain, are the only one here who knows his tongue, if you
do know it, and you are my accuser."

"That is true," remarked Retief. "Such a witness should not be admitted
without a sworn interpreter. Now listen; I pass judgment as commandant
in the field. Hernan Pereira, I have known you to be a rogue in the
past, for I remember that you cheated this very young man, Allan
Quatermain, at a friendly trial of skill at which I was present; but
since then till now I have heard nothing more of you, good or bad.
To-day this Allan Quatermain and a number of my own countrymen bring
grave charges against you, which, however, at present are not capable of
proof or disproof. Well, I cannot decide those charges, whatever my own
opinion may be. I think that you had better