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 shining, 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 assistance?
"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.
"Do you know where she is?"
"I know where she will be to-morrow night."
To-morrow night! And I had been expecting instant action.
"Look here," I said, seizing him by the shoulder with a grip that must
have hurt. "Has she been injured in any way? Tell me. Has she?"
"Not yet," he answered. "No--not yet. But--if you fail to find her,
and take her from where she is, to-morrow night--she will die, and that
not easily."
This time he did wince under my grip. In my awful agony I seemed hardly
to know what I was doing. The whole moonlit scene seemed to be whirling
round with me. My love--in peril! in peril of some frightful and
agonising form of death! Oh Heaven help me to keep my wits about me!
Some such idea must have communicated itself to the Xosa's mind, for he
said:
"_Nkose_ must keep cool. No man can do a difficult thing if his head is
not cool."
Even then I noticed that he was looking at me with wonder tinged with
concern. In ordinary matters--and some out of the ordinary--I was among
the coolest headed of mortals. Now I seemed quite thrown off my
balance. Somehow it never occurred to me to doubt the truth of Jan
Boom's statement.
"Where is this place?" I asked.
"That you will learn to-morrow night, _Nkose_, for I myself will take
you there--if you are cautious. If not--!"
"Look here, Jan Boom. You want to earn the cattle which I shall give as
a reward?"
"Cattle are always good to have, _Nkose_!"
"Well what other motive have you in helping me in this matter? You have
not been very long with me, and I cannot recall any special reason why
you should serve me outside of ordinary things."
"Be not too curious, _Nkose_!" he answered, with a slight smile. "But,
whether you fail or succeed to-morrow night, my life will be sought, for
it will be known how you came there."
"Have no fear as to that, Jan Boom, for I will supply you with the means
of defending your life six times over--and you, too, come of a warrior
race."
"That is so, _Nkose_. I am of the Ama Gcaleka. Now talk we of our
plan. To-morrow you will return home, starting from here after the sun
is at its highest. Up to the time of starting you will help in the
search in whatever direction it is made. But if you show any sign or
give reason to suspect you know it is all being made in vain, it will
mean the failure of our plan, and then--"
"Not on my account shall it fail then," I said. "Tell me, Jan Boom. Is
Ukozi at the back of this?"
"His eyes and ears are everywhere," was the reply, accompanied by a
significant glance around. "When you ride homeward to-morrow, your
horse will be very lame."
"Very lame?" I echoed in astonishment.
"Very lame. You yourself will lame it. So shall Ukozi's eyes be
deceived. For a man who has just returned home does not ride forth
immediately on a horse that is very lame."