e, the old priest backed himself out of the
tent, stopping now and again to bow to Benita.

A few minutes later her father entered, looking very weak and shaken,
and supporting himself upon a stick. Happy was the greeting of these
two who, with their arms about each other's neck, gave thanks for their
escape from great peril.

"You see, Benita, we can't get away from this place," Mr. Clifford said
presently. "We must find that gold."

"Bother the gold," she answered with energy; "I hate its very name. Who
can think of gold with three thousand Matabele waiting to kill us?"

"Somehow I don't feel afraid of them any more," said her father; "they
have had their chance and lost it, and the Makalanga swear that now they
have guns to command the gates, the fortress cannot be stormed. Still, I
am afraid of someone."

"Who?"

"Jacob Mayer. I have seen him several times, and I think that he is
going mad."

"The Molimo said that too, but why?"

"From the look of him. He sits about muttering and glowing with those
dark eyes of his, and sometimes groans, and sometimes bursts into shouts
of laughter. That is when the fit is on him, for generally he seems
right enough. But get up if you think you can, and you shall judge for
yourself."

"I don't want to," said Benita feebly. "Father, I am more afraid of him
now than ever. Oh! why did you not let me stop down below, among the
Makalanga, instead of carrying me up here again, where we must live
alone with that terrible Jew?"

"I wished to, dear, but the Molimo said we should be safer above, and
ordered his people to carry you up. Also, Jacob swore that unless you
were brought back he would kill me. Now you understand why I believe
that he is mad."

"Why, why?" gasped Benita again.

"God knows," he answered with a groan; "but I think that he is sure that
we shall never find the gold without you, since the Molimo has told him
that it is for you and you alone, and he says the old man has second
sight, or something of the sort. Well, he would have murdered me--I saw
it in his eye--so I thought it better to give in rather than that you
should be left here sick and alone. Of course there was one way----" and
he paused.

She looked at him and asked:

"What way?"

"To shoot him before he shot me," he answered in a whisper, "for your
sake, dear--but I could not bring myself to do it."

"No," she said with a shudder, "not that--not that. Better that we
should die than that h