Chaka, whither thou goest thither will I go also, and where thou shalt build thy kraal there shall I make my hut. Koos! Baba!” And having saluted after the dignified Zulu fashion, Mazooku departed to tie up his split trousers with a bit of string. There was something utterly incongruous between his present appearance and his melodious and poetical words, instinct as they were with qualities which in some respects make the savage Zulu a gentleman, and put him above the white Christian, who for the most part regards the “nigger” as a creature beneath contempt. For there are lessons to be learned even from Zulu “niggers,” and among them we may reckon those taught by a courage which laughs at death; an absolute fidelity to those who have the right to command it, or the qualities necessary to win it; and, in their raw and unconverted state, perfect honesty and truthfulness. “He is a good fellow, Mazooku,” said Ernest, when the Zulu had gone; “but I fear that one of two things will happen to him. Either he will get homesick and become a nuisance, or he will get civilised and become drunken and degraded. I should have done better to leave him in Natal.” CHAPTER II. ERNEST’S EVIL DESTINY About nine o’clock on the morning following Mazooku’s oration, a young lady came running up the stairs of the principal Plymouth hotel, and burst into a private sitting-room, like a human bomb-shell of attractive appearance, somewhat to the astonishment of a bald old gentleman who was sitting at breakfast. “Good gracious, Dorothy, have you gone suddenly mad?” “O Reginald, the _Conway Castle_ is nearly in, and I have been to the office and got leave for us to go off in the launch; so come along, quick!” “What time does the launch leave?” “A quarter to ten exactly.” “Then we have three-quarters of an hour.” “O please, Reginald, be quick; it might go before, you know.” Mr. Cardus smiled, and, rising, put on his hat and coat, “to oblige Dorothy,” he said; but, as a matter of fact, he was as excited as she was. There was a patch of red on each of his pale cheeks, and his hand shook. In a quarter of an hour they were walking up and down the quay by the Custom House, waiting for the launch to start. “After all these years,” said Mr. Cardus, “and blind!” “Do you think that he will be much disfigured, Reginald?” “I don’t know, dear; your brother said nothing about it.” “I can hardly believe it; it seems so strange to think that he and Jeremy should have been spared out of all those people. How good God is!” “A cynic,” replied Mr. Cardus, with a smile, “or the relations of the other people, might draw a different conclusion.” But Dorothy was thinking how good God was to _her._ She was dressed in pink that morning, and “Oh, she looked sweet As the little pink flower that grows in the wheat.”