Part 35 (1/2)

Utterly heartsick, and though unconsciously so, physically weary by reason of the awful strain of the last twelve hours, I only sought to be alone. I went into the room I always occupied and shut myself in.

Sleep? Yes, I would welcome it, if only as a respite. I don't know whether it came or not.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

WHAT JAN BOOM TOLD.

It seemed as though I had slept five minutes when I started wide awake, listening. There was a faint sound of scratching upon the window pane.

Then it ceased, to be followed by a succession of gentle taps.

Noiselessly I got out of bed, and drawing my revolver from its holster, stood listening once more. There was no mistake about it. Somebody was trying to attract my attention.

Even then--in that tense moment, the drear anguish of yesterday surged like a wave through my mind; but, upon it a gleam of hope. What was this fresh mystery, for, of course, it was in some way connected with the suggestion of tragedy--with the mysterious disappearance of my love?

There were no curtains, only blinds. Softly, noiselessly, I slipped to the window and displaced one of these, just sufficiently to leave a crack to be able to see through. The moon was s.h.i.+ning, bright and clear, and all in the front of the house was illuminated almost as though by daylight I made out a dark figure crouching under the window, and held the revolver clenched and ready as I put up the sash.

”Who?” I said, in the Zulu.

”_Nkose_! It is I--Jan Boom.”

”Yes. And what do you want?”

”_Nkose_! Try and slip out of the house, unseen I want to talk. But others may be waking too. Do it. It concerns her whom you seek.”

I knew the ways of a native in such a matter, wherefore without hesitation, I put up the window as noiselessly as I could, and was out in a moment. Bearing in mind the strange and mysterious times upon which we had fallen I didn't leave the weapon behind me in the room either.

”You are alone?” I said.

”I am alone, _Nkose_. Come round behind the waggon shed--or, better still, into the openness of the bush itself. There can we hold our _indaba_.”

”Good. Now--lead on.”

As I walked behind the Xosa, I was all aglow with eagerness. What had he discovered--or, had he discovered anything? Could I trust him? I remembered my first dislike of him, and how it had faded. What could he know of this last outrage? What part had he borne in it, if any? And if none, how could he be of any a.s.sistance?

”Well, Jan Boom,” I said when we were safe from possible interruption.

”You know of course that the man who is the one to enable me to recover the _Inkosikazi_ unharmed, will find himself in possession of sufficient cattle to purchase two new wives, with something to spare?”

”I know it, _Nkose_, and you--you also know what I said to you when I wanted to remain and work for you,” he answered significantly.

I did remember it. His words came back to me, though I had long since dismissed them from my mind. The plot was thickening.

The Xosa took a long and careful look round, and if my patience was strained to bursting point I knew enough of these people to know that you never get anything out of them by hurrying them. Then he bent his head towards me and whispered:

”If you follow my directions exactly you will recover the _Inkosikazi_.

If not you will never see her again.”

”Never see her again?” I echoed with some idea of gaining time in order to collect myself.

”Has Nyamaki ever been seen again?” said Jan Boom.