“No, no,” cried Suzanne, “I am ashamed to be seen thus by any man.” “Wherefore, Swallow, seeing that for some days you are but a Kaffir woman, and this is their dress, of which none think harm? Nay, you must, for remember that if you show doubt or shame, you will betray yourself.” Then with a groan Suzanne yielded, and crouching upon the floor like a native, awaited the return of Sihamba. Presently she came, followed by Zinti, who was in good case, though somewhat thin, for Zinti was clever and provident, and, foreseeing what would come, he had hidden water for himself among the rocks. “Zinti,” said Sihamba, “I would speak with you of secret matters.” “Speak on, lady,” he answered—here his eyes fell upon Suzanne crouched on the ground in the full light of the lamp—“but there is a stranger present.” “This is no stranger, Zinti,” said Sihamba, “but one whom you know well.” “Indeed, lady, I know her not. Should I forget one so beautiful? And yet—and yet—” and he rubbed his eyes and stared, gasping, “it cannot be.” “Yes, it is, Zinti. There sits the lady Swallow and none other.” Now although there was little mirth left in him, Zinti burst out laughing till the tears ran from his eyes, and Sihamba struck him with her hands, calling him “Fool,” and commanding him to be silent. “Wow!” he said, “this is wonderful. This is magic indeed. She who was white as snow has become black as coal, and yes, she looks best black. Oh! this is magic indeed.” At his words Suzanne sprang up looking as though she were about to weep, and Sihamba stopped his lips with fierce words and blows, though he took small heed of either, but stood staring. “Zinti,” Sihamba said, “you have done me many services, but to-day you must do me the greatest of all. This morning at the daylight the lady Swallow will pass with the multitude down the cleft yonder and none will know her in that disguise. You must go with her, but not too near her, and cross the plain, meeting her by the saw-edged rock which stands yonder at the mouth of the gorge in the Quathlamba mountains. Then you must lead her as fast as you can travel to that camp of the Boers which is near the Tugela River, where she will be safe. Do you understand?” “I understand, lady. But what of yourself?” “It is my plan to hide on the mountain,” Sihamba answered quickly, “in a secret place I know of, seeing that it is impossible that I should escape because my stature would betray me. I will join you at the Boer camp later; or, failing that, you can return in a while—say on the first night of the new moon—to search for me. But talk no more, for we have still much to do. Yes, we who have made a white woman black, must make a black woman white. Follow me, both of you,” and giving Zinti a jar of pigment and the long goat-skin cloak, which Suzanne wore for an outer garment, she left the hut, carrying in her hand strips of ox-hide tanned white.