Thus it came about that the gorgeous sunset was finished and the sky had grown grey with night before we reached the foot of the koppie. Yet the last rays of the sinking orb had shown me something as they died. There on the slope of the hill stood some mud and wattle houses, such as I had ordered to be built, and near to them several white-capped wagons. Only I did not see any smoke rising from those houses as there should have been at this hour of the day, when men cooked their evening food. The moon would be up presently, I knew, but meanwhile it was dark and the tired horse stumbled and floundered among the stones which lay about at the foot of the hill. I could bear it no longer. “Hans,” I said, “do you stay here with the horse. I will creep to the houses and see if any dwell there.” “Be careful, baas,” he answered, “lest you should find Zulus, for those black devils are all about.” I nodded, for I could not speak, and then began the ascent. For several hundred yards I crept from stone to stone, feeling my way, for the Kaffir path that led to the little plateau where the spring was, above which the shanties stood, ran at the other end of the hill. I struck the spruit or rivulet that was fed by this spring, being guided to it by the murmur of the water, and followed up its bank till I heard a sound which caused me to crouch and listen. I could not be sure because of the ceaseless babble of the brook, but the sound seemed like that of sobs. While I waited the great moon appeared suddenly above a bank of inky cloud, flooding the place with light, and oh! by that light, looking more ethereal than woman I saw—I saw Marie! She stood not five paces from me, by the side of the stream, whither she had come to draw water, for she held a vessel in her hand. She was clothed in some kind of a black garment, such as widows wear, but made of rough stuff, and above it her face showed white in the white rays of the moon. Gazing at her from the shadow, I could even see the tears running down her cheeks, for it was she who wept in this lonely place, wept for one who would return no more. My voice choked in my throat; I could not utter a single word. Rising from behind a rock I moved towards her. She saw me and started, then said in a thrilling whisper: “Oh! husband, has God sent you to call me? I am ready, husband, I am ready!” and she stretched out her arms wildly, letting fall the vessel, that clanked upon the ground. “Marie!” I gasped at length; and at that word the blood rushed to her face and brow, and I saw her draw in her breath as though to scream. “Hush!” I whispered. “It is I, Allan, who have escaped alive.” The next thing I remember was that she lay in my arms. “What has happened here?” I asked when I had told my tale, or some of it.