Holman shrugged his shoulders and turned away. "You will have the English magistrates after you, Leentje," was all he said, purposely goading her. She smiled grimly. "The English magistrates won't frighten me," she said. "They are set over the districts to cow the men." She folded the letter in her hand and thrust it savagely in her bosom, and stared meaningly at Honor. "`She put her hand to the nail, and her right hand to the workman's hammer,'" she quoted softly. "`Blessed shall she be above women in the tent... The mother of Sisera cried through the lattice. Why is his chariot so long in coming? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot?' ... There is work here worthy of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite." Slowly, without speaking, Honor left the room. She passed through into the kitchen, and from the kitchen went out into the hot unshaded yard. For a minute or so she waited, as one who expects to be followed, then, with steps as light and fleet as a fawn's, she sped away in the direction of the rondavel. CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. Butter Tom was busy outside the rondavel shaking the dust from the skin mats which covered the floor. He glanced up at Honor's approach, and smiled with a cautious deference that concealed his vague distrust of her more effectually than it hid his nervousness. The missis with the face of a lily in the moonlight possessed the cunning of a devil. Already she had worked evil towards the baas he served. Her appearance now he believed portended further evil. He was afraid of her with the unreasoning fear of a man who realises his inability to resist a superior will. If she commanded him to do a thing, he would do it because he dared not refuse. He likened her to the fleet-footed powers of evil which outdistanced the chameleon, the tardy messenger of the gods, who failed through its dilatoriness to deliver the World from the ills which afflict mankind. She came towards him swiftly, as evil travels, with the speed of the wind, and halted beside him, warmly flushed and panting for breath. Butter Tom gathered up his mats, and, grinning nervously, prepared to retreat with them; but Honor stayed him with a gesture. "Put those down," she said authoritatively, "and go to the stable quickly, and fetch out the old spider which Baas Herman uses. Inspan Baas Matheson's horse without loss of time. The baas will drive to the town, and you will drive him there and bring the spider back. Do you understand?" "Ja, missis. Me take the mats inside, then me go." For a second it seemed as though she would not permit this delay; then with another gesture she signified her consent to the disposal of the mats, but bade him be quick as she would wait for him.