u can, I believe there is no time to lose." And he left the
hut.

Ten minutes later he returned with a woman, Nandie the Sweet herself,
the same quiet, dignified Nandie whom I used to know, only now somewhat
worn with trouble and looking older than her years.

"Greeting, Macumazahn," she said. "I am pleased to see you, although it
is strange, very strange, that you should come here just at this time.
Saduko is leaving us--on a long journey, Macumazahn."

I answered that I had heard so with grief, and wondered whether he would
like to see me.

"Yes, very much, Macumazahn; only be prepared to find him different from
the Saduko whom you knew. Be pleased to follow me."

So we went out of Tshoza's hut, across a courtyard to another large hut,
which we entered. It was lit with a good lamp of European make; also a
bright fire burned upon the hearth, so that the place was as light as
day. At the side of the hut a man lay upon some blankets, watched by a
woman. His eyes were covered with his hand, and he was moaning:

"Drive him away! Drive him away! Cannot he suffer me to die in peace?"

"Would you drive away your old friend, Macumazahn, Saduko?" asked Nandie
very gently, "Macumazahn, who has come from far to see you?"

He sat up, and, the blankets falling off him, showed me that he was
nothing but a living skeleton. Oh! how changed from that lithe and
handsome chief whom I used to know. Moreover, his lips quivered and his
eyes were full of terrors.

"Is it really you, Macumazahn?" he said in a weak voice. "Come, then,
and stand quite close to me, so that he may not get between us," and he
stretched out his bony hand.

I took the hand; it was icy cold.

"Yes, yes, it is I, Saduko," I said in a cheerful voice; "and there is
no man to get between us; only the lady Nandie, your wife, and myself
are in the hut; she who watched you has gone."

"Oh, no, Macumazahn, there is another in the hut whom you cannot see.
There he stands," and he pointed towards the hearth. "Look! The spear is
through him and his plume lies on the ground!"

"Through whom, Saduko?"

"Whom? Why, the Prince Umbelazi, whom I betrayed for Mameena's sake."

"Why do you talk wind, Saduko?" I asked. "Years ago I saw
Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti die."

"Die, Macumazahn! We do not die; it is only our flesh that dies. Yes,
yes, I have learned that since we parted. Do you not remember his last
words: 'I will haunt you while you live, and when you cease to liv