Rachel straightened herself upon her seat, gripping the edge of it with her hands, for her temper was rising, while Noie bent forward and said something in her ear. “What is that black devil whispering to you?” he asked. “Telling you to have me killed, I expect. Well, you daren’t, for what would your holy parents say? It would be murder, wouldn’t it, and you would go to hell, where I daresay you come from, for otherwise how could you be such a witch? Look here,” he went on, changing his tone, “don’t let’s squabble. Make it up with me. I’ll get you clear of this and marry you afterwards on the square. If you won’t, it will be the worse for you—and everybody else, yes, everybody else.” “Mr. Ishmael,” answered Rachel calmly, “you are making a very great mistake, about my scruples as to taking life I mean, amongst other things. Once when it was necessary you saw me kill a man. Well, if I am forced to it, what I did then I will do again, only not with my own hand. Mr. Ishmael, you said just now that you could get me out of Zululand. I take you at your word, not for my own sake, for I am comfortable enough here, but for that of my father and mother, who will be anxious,” and her voice weakened a little as she spoke of them. “Do you? Well, I won’t. I am comfortable here also, and shall be more so as the husband of the Inkosazana. This is a very pretty kraal, and it is quite big enough for two,” he added with an amorous sneer. Now for a minute at least Rachel sat still and rigid. When she spoke again it was in a kind of gasp: “Never,” she said, “have you gone nearer to your death, you wanderer without name or shame. Listen now. I give you one week to arrange my escape home. If it is not done within that time, I will pay you back for those words. Be silent, I will hear no more.” Then she called out: “Rise, men, and bear the message of the Inkosazana to Dingaan, King of the Zulus. Say to Dingaan that this wandering white dog whom he has sent into my house has done me insult. Say that he has asked me, the Inkosazana-y-Zoola, to be one of his wives.” At these words the counsellors and captains uttered a shout of rage, and two of the latter seized Ishmael by the arm, lifting their spears to plunge them into him. Rachel waved her wand and they let them fall again. “Not yet,” she said. “Take him to the King, and if my word comes to the King, then he dies, and not till then. I would not have his vile blood on my hands. Unless I speak, I, Queen of the Heavens, leave him to the vengeance of the Heavens. My mantle is over him, lead him back to the King and let me see his face no more.” “We hear and it shall be so,” they answered with one voice, then forgetting their ceremony hustled Ishmael from the kraal. “Have I done well?” asked Rachel of Noie, when they were alone. “No, Zoola,” she answered, “you should have killed the snake while you were hot against him, since when your blood grows cold you can never do it, and he will live to bite you.”