The eyes of the savage glared, and his countenance underwent a transformation almost magical in its suddenness. The smiling, good-humoured expression gave way to one of deadly hate, of a ruthless ferocity that was almost appalling to contemplate. So effective was it upon Eustace that carelessly, and as if by accident, he interposed his body between Eanswyth and the speaker, and though he made no movement, his every sense was on the alert. He was ready to draw his revolver with lightning-like rapidity at the first aggressive indication. But no such indication was manifested. "No. You have no enemies among our people--neither you nor the _Inkosikazi_"--went on Hlangani as his countenance resumed its normal calm. "You have always been friends to us. Why are _you_ not living here together as our friends and neighbours--you two, without the poison of our deadly enemy to cause ill-blood between us and you--you alone together? I would speak with you apart, Ixeshane." Now, Eanswyth, though living side by side with the natives, was, like most colonial people, but poorly versed in the Xosa tongue. She knew a smattering of it, just sufficient for kitchen purposes, and that was all; consequently, but for a word here and there, the above dialogue was unintelligible to her. But it was otherwise with her companion. His familiarity with the language was all but complete, and not only with the language, but with all its tricks. He knew that the other was "talking dark," and his quick perception readily grasped the meaning which was intended to be conveyed. With the lurid thoughts indulged in that morning as regarded his cousin still fresh in his mind, it could hardly have been otherwise. He hated the man: he loved the man's wife. "How is it going to end?" had been his unuttered cry just now. "How is it going to end!" she had re-echoed. Well, here was a short and easy solution ready to hand. A flush of blood surged to his face, and his heart beat fiercely under the terrible temptation thus thrown in his way. Yet so fleeting was it as scarcely to constitute a temptation at all. Now that it was put nakedly to him he could not do this thing. He could not consent to a murder--a cold-blooded, treacherous murder. "I cannot talk with you apart, Hlangani," he answered. "I cannot leave the _Inkosikazi_ standing here alone even for a few minutes." The piercing glance of the shrewd savage had been scrutinising his face--had been reading it like a book. Upon him the terrible struggle within had not been lost. "Consider, Ixeshane," he pursued. "What is the gift of a few dozen cows, of _two hundred cows_, when compared with the happiness of a man's lifetime? Nothing. _Is it to be? Say the word. Is it to be_?" The barbarian's fiery eyes were fixed upon his with deep and terrible meaning. To Eustace it seemed as if the blasting glare of the Arch fiend himself shone forth from their cruel depths.