nd his hand to execute. Onward his black horse strides,
companioned by the storm, like a dark thought travelling on the wings of
Night. He does not believe in any God, and yet the terrible fears that
spring up in his soul, born fungus-like from a few drops of blood, take
shape and form, and seem to cry aloud, "_We are the messengers of the
avenging God_." He glances up. High on the black bosom of the storm the
finger of the lightning is writing that awful name, and again and again
the voice of the thunder reads it aloud in spirit-shaking accents. He
shuts his dazed eyes, and even the falling rhythm of his horse's hoofs
beats out, "_There is a God! there is a God!_" from the silent earth on
which they strike.

And so, on through the tempest and the night, flying from that which no
man can leave behind.

It was near midnight when Frank Muller drew rein at a wretched and
lonely mud hut built on the banks of the Vaal, and flanked by an equally
miserable shed. The place was silent as the grave; not even a dog
barked.

"That beast of a Kafir is not here," he said aloud, "I will have him
flogged to death. Hendrik! Hendrik!"

As he called, a form rose up at his very feet, causing the weary horse
to start back so violently that he almost threw his rider to the ground.

"What in the name of the devil are you?" almost shrieked Frank Muller,
whose nerves, indeed, were in no condition to bear fresh shocks.

"It is I, Baas," said the form, at the same time throwing off a
grey blanket in which it was enveloped, and revealing the villainous
countenance of the one-eyed witch-doctor, who had taken the letter to
Bessie. For years this man had been Muller's body-servant, who followed
him about like a shadow.

"Curse you, you dog! What do you mean by hiding up like that? It is one
of your infernal tricks; be careful"--tapping his pistol case--"or I
shall one day put an end to you and your witchcraft together."

"I am very sorry, Baas," said the man in a whine, "but half an hour
ago I heard you coming. I don't know what is the matter with the air
to-night, but it sounded as though twenty people were galloping after
you. I could hear them all quite clearly; first the big black horse, and
then all those that followed, just as though they were hunting you. So
I came out and lay down to listen, and it was not till you were quite
close that one by one the others stopped. Perhaps it was the devils who
galloped."

"Damn you, stop tha