At dinner that evening, Donald's mind was fortunately too preoccupied to
note the haggard face of the little woman sitting opposite. They were
scarcely seated, when from the window she saw two men come into the yard
and enter the kitchen. Turning she whispered one word:
"Detectives!"
Dainty had no suspicion of his having diamonds on his person, until he
dropped his knife, and sat pale and nerveless. Leaping from her seat,
she flew to his side, thrust her hand into one pocket and another, until
she drew forth a large diamond. In another second she was standing in
the middle of the room. What should she do with it? Where should she
hide it, from those sharp-eyed hunters? There was no spot in the room
that would not be searched.
There was a rent in the wall paper through which she felt tempted to
slip it! The seconds were flying. In another moment those men would
open that door and all would be lost! She could almost have annihilated
time and space, so greatly was her mentality strained and quickened. In
turning to look once more, with a sickening despair striking her vitals,
her glance fell on Bela, standing perfectly rigid with terror.
Quick as thought she flew to the Bushman, and placing her finger on his
eye, lifted the lid, took out that glass eye, slipped the diamond in,
and returned the eye to its place. Then turning to her husband,
panting, she whispered:
"Where did you get that diamond?" He collected his scattered senses and
feebly answered:
"The Fingo boy." She sank on her chair a seemingly indifferent,
indolent houri, as the door flew open and the detectives entered.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said Dainty in a steady voice, but with a
questioning look, as if she wondered at the strange hour and abrupt
entrance of visitors.
"Sorry to disturb your dinner, madam," said one of the men, "but we have
traced a marked diamond here; and must search for it."
"Why do you search here?" said Donald, haughtily.
"Hush, Donald! I suppose nothing we could say would hinder them," said
Dainty, calmly.
Her coolness and her smile won the evident admiration of the men for a
moment; but yet brusquely spoke one of them:
"Nothing, madam," and immediately the search began. Again Donald spoke:
"Gentlemen, I have no diamonds about me."
"Perhaps not, sir! But it is our business to make sure of it," said one
detective as he deftly began a personal search.
Nothing coming to light, they seemed puzzled, for they had bribed the
Fingo boy that day to sell the diamond to Donald, and knowing he had
bought it within the hour, thought to find it on him. Then they
ransacked the house. Carpets were torn up and furniture ripped open.
They even thrust their hands through the rent in the wall paper and felt
on the ground below; but their search was fruitless.
They next closely inspected Dainty, her hair was combed, and her
clothing handled unceremoniously by one man, while the other took Donald
into custody. So sure were they that he had the diamond, that when the
gem could not be found on the man or the premises, they had no
hesitation in arresting him, and stationing the police to watch the
house. But it was not so well watched, as to prevent that keen bright
woman from eluding their vigilance.
Bela stood like a stone image with his one eye fastened on his mistress,
and the other eye holding the honour or disgrace of her husband.
Nothing could have made him disclose the secret.
As the officers left the house with Donald, her every sense was alert,
and ready to spring to action.
What to do next? The diamond was safe. She must find that Fingo boy
who had sold Donald the diamond, and put him out of the way. With the
keener sense which she possessed as a birth right, with that black blood
in her veins, her woman's wit came to her assistance, and she resolved
to foil the bloodhounds of the law.
She remembered a suit she had prepared as a gift to a favourite Malay
boy. It hung in her closet, not yet bestowed upon its future owner.
With feverish haste she secured it, and dressed herself in it. The soft
gay handkerchief she tied around her head, and over this placed the hat.
She had smiled at the odd costume when she had first made it ready, but
she did not smile now, nor at her appearance in it. She only felt joy
in the disguise.
Now--how to pass the guards!
It was desperate business. She called Bela--trusty fellow! He must
help. The Bushman started at sight of her, and only the voice assured
him it was really she.
"Bela," said she, "I must get away for a while and you must help me. Do
you go out to the gate, and when the guards stop you, keep them as long
as you can. I will run another way and try to get out of sight. They
will send you back, of course."
The Bushman started on his mission. Dainty watched him concealed in the
shadow of the house. The guards stopped him as she had thought. It was
growing rapidly dark. She heard the authoritative voices of the guards,
and the stupid answers of Bela. Dashing at right angles from the scene,
she scaled the fence unobserved, and rapidly left the unsuspecting
guards trying to convince Bela that it would not do. When he finally
submitted, the outwitted officers congratulated themselves on their
vigilance. So was the first step accomplished!
Now to find her stalwart driver and order her cart and horses. She had
gone scarce one hundred yards when, to her unspeakable joy and surprise,
she found the servant going toward home. It was with difficulty she
made him know his mistress; ordering him to meet her at a particular
spot, she hurried on.
Rapidly passing to the Kafir location, where she felt she should find
the Fingo, she walked fearlessly into the first hut. Hut after hut was
visited, and inquiries, made of one and another inmate in her awakened
savage mood, and in the native language, as to where the boy lay.
As she shook each sleeping body, the very manner of her action, and the
tone of frenzy in which she addressed them, so impressed them, that they
answered whether they would or not. She walked on and on, until the
last hut, the farthest from probable detection was reached, and there,
lying between two other Kafirs, she found him.
With superhuman strength she dragged him out. By this time her fury had
reached such a pitch that, to be rid of her clutch was like shaking off
the claws of a wild cat.
Hurrying him forward in breathless haste, she reached the place where
the cart stood waiting. Hustling him into it, she held him with her
woman's hands while the driver tied him securely down. Then, seizing
the reins, she ordered her servant to wait her return, and drove swiftly
away.
She pierced the dark with savage instinct for there was no road to guide
her. The dangerous holes with which the veldt is studded did not lie in
her path.
Her anger rose as the horses sped along. To her excited nerves their
rapid pace was too slow, and she whipped them into a wild galop all the
way, for she must be home before sun up.
Her fury was intense, and she would turn to the Fingo cowering in the
corner of the seat, in a sort of mad way, that made him shrink with
terror. Every time she looked at him she would urge her horses to
additional speed by lashings of the whip, until they were nearly as mad
as their mistress.