ting herself through the crowd, Suzanne ran on for a while till she
was clear of the worst of it, then terrified though she was, she could
resist the temptation of the water no longer, for her mouth and throat
felt dry and rough. Climbing down to the edge of the river she drank
greedily under the shelter of a rock, and when she had satisfied some
of her thirst, she poured water into the mouth of the child, dipping
its shrunken little body into the stream, whereon it seemed to increase
before her eyes like a dry sponge that is left out in the rain.

While she tended the child thus, and just as it began to find its senses
and to wail feebly, she chanced to look up, and to her terror saw that
man from whom she had escaped walking along the bank looking for her.
Happy was it for Suzanne that the rock under which she was crouched hid
her, for the man stood for thirty seconds or more within two paces, so
that she was obliged to plunge the body of the boy under water to stifle
its crying.

Then, as it happened, the Kaffir caught sight of another woman and
infant, more than a hundred yards away, and ran off towards them.
Thereon Suzanne, replacing the half-choked child upon her back, climbed
the bank, hiding the white mark upon her arm beneath the blanket, and
taking such shelter as she could behind stones or cattle, or knots of
people who, their thirst appeased, were hastening to escape, she slipped
across the shoulder of the slope.

Now she was out of sight of Swart Piet and his men, and for the first
time for many a day began to breathe freely. For a while she crept
on round the flank of the mountain, then at the best of her speed she
struck across the plain straight for the saw-edged rock ten miles away,
which marked the entrance to the pass over the Quathlamba range.

From time to time Suzanne looked behind her, but none followed her, nor,
search as she would, could she discover any trace of Zinti, who, she
began to fear, must have come to some harm. One thing she could see,
however--the whitened corpse set on high in the chair of rock, and by
the side of it a black dot that she knew to be Sihamba. Twice she turned
round and gazed at it, but the second time the dot had become almost
imperceptible, although it still was there. Long and earnestly she
looked, sending her farewell through space to that true friend and
deliverer whose eyes, as she knew well, watched her flight and whose
heart went with her.

Then she trave