wall which they had
built. If so, either he did not try to pull it down, or he failed in
the attempt, or perhaps he feared that should he succeed, he would be
greeted by a bullet. So at last she gave up thinking about him. Should
he force his way into the cave she must deal with the situation as best
she could. Meanwhile, her father's strength was sinking fast.

Three awful days went by in this fashion, and the end drew near.
Although she tried to force herself to it, Benita could not swallow
enough food to keep up her strength. Now that the passage was closed the
atmosphere of this old vault, for it was nothing more, thickened by
the smoke of the fire which she was obliged to burn, grew poisonous and
choked her. Want of sleep exhausted her, dread of what the morrow might
bring forth crushed her strong spirit. She began to break down, knowing
that the hour was near when she and her father must die together.

Once, as she slept awhile at his side, being wakened by his groaning,
Benita looked at her watch. It was midnight. She rose, and going to the
embers of the little fire, warmed up some of her biltong broth which she
poured into a tin pannikin. With difficulty she forced him to swallow
a few mouthfuls of it, then, feeling a sudden weakness, drank the rest
herself. It gave her power to think, and her father dozed off into an
uneasy sleep.

Alas! thinking was of no use, nothing could be done. There was no hope
save in prayer. Restlessness seized Benita, and taking the lantern she
wandered round the cave. The wall that they had built remained intact,
and oh! to think that beyond it flowed the free air and shone the
blessed stars! Back she came again, skirting the pits that Jacob Meyer
had dug, and the grave of the old monk, till she reached the steps of
the crucifix, and holding up her candle, looked at the thorn-crowned
brow of the Christ above.

It was wonderfully carved; that dying face was full of pity. Would not
He Whom it represented pity her? She knelt down on the topmost step, and
clasping the pierced feet with her arms, began to pray earnestly, not
for herself but that she might save her father. She prayed as she had
never prayed before, and so praying, sank into a torpor or a swoon.

It seemed to Benita that this sleep of hers suddenly became alive; in it
she saw many things. For instance, she saw herself seated in a state of
trance upon that very step where now she knelt, while before her stood
her father