him. Incidentally the said guard was bristling with assegais.

"What is the meaning of this, Verna?" he said. "There's no war. Yet
these fellows collared me unawares, and here I am. But what is it,
darling?" becoming alive to the stamp of piteous misery upon her face.

"You will go free now," she answered, "right away out of the country.
It's no longer safe here."

"Well, I'm agreeable. Are you ready?"

"Yes--no--that is, not yet," she faltered hurriedly.

"Take him back," commanded the chief, and the guards moved away with
their prisoner, who, of course, understood nothing of what had been
said, but supposed that Verna would contrive to straighten it out
somehow. "Well, Izibu, he is going to be got ready for the torture. Do
you agree to save him? It is the last chance."

"Oh, God! God, help me!" she sobbed forth, sinking to the earth, her
face buried in her hands; Sapazani, watching her, gloated over her fine
form, soon voluntarily to be placed within his power. So taken up was
he that he failed to perceive the approach of the man who now stood at
his elbow. Turning angrily, he beheld Mandevu.

The latter whispered a word or two. Sapazani was astonished, but did
not show it.

"Wait here, child of U' Ben," he said, rising, "until my return."

"But they will torture him!"

"Not until my return."

He moved towards the kraal gate. The word which Mandevu had whispered
in his ear was "Opondo."

The renegade was seated within the chief's principal hut. His hard,
vindictive face was firm and impenetrable.

"Greeting, Sapazani," he began, without ceremony. "Thou must give up
thy purpose. The two yonder must be allowed to go free."

The snatching of a bone from a hungry mastiff might convey some sort of
idea of the expression which came over Sapazani's face at this
utterance; the very tone of which admitted of no dispute.

"Must?" he repeated.

"Yes, _must_."

"_Hau_! I am no chief!" he said sneeringly, "no chief. And if I
refuse?"

"Then thou wilt indeed be no chief, son of Umlali, for it would ruin the
whole of our plan to carry out thy purpose."

Sapazani brought his hand to his mouth and sat thinking. He knew that
the other spoke truly, and yet--

"Further," went on his visitor, "U' Ben is my friend. He saved my life
once, and has done me good service in the past. His child must not be
harmed. For the other, the man, he will be able to do me--to do us--
good service in the fut