When I had finished a perfect storm of execration broke from the Boers. If curses could have killed Pereira, surely he would have died upon the spot, wherever he might be. Only two of them were silent, Marie, who turned very pale, poor girl, and her father. Presently one of them, I think it was Meyer, rounded on him viciously and asked him what he thought now of that devil, his nephew.
“I think there must be some mistake,” answered Marais quietly, “since Hernan cannot have wished that we should all be put to death.”
“No,” shouted Meyer; “but he wished that Allan Quatermain should, which is just as bad; and now it has come about that once more our lives depend upon this English boy.”
“At any rate,” replied Marais, looking at me oddly, “it seems that he is not to be killed, whether he shoots the vultures or misses them.”
“That remains to be proved, mynheer,” I answered hotly, for the insinuation stung me. “But please understand that if all of you, my companions, are to be slaughtered, and Marie is to be put among this black brute’s women, as he threatens, I have no wish to live on.”
“My God! does he threaten that?” said Marais. “Surely you must have misunderstood him, Allan.”
“Do you think that I should lie to you on such a matter—” I began.
But, before I could proceed, the Vrouw Prinsloo thrust herself between us, crying:
“Be silent, you, Marais, and you too, Allan. Is this a time that you should quarrel and upset yourself, Allan, so that when the trial comes you will shoot your worst and not your best? And is this a time, Henri Marais, that you should throw insults at one on whom all our lives hang, instead of praying for God’s vengeance upon your accursed nephew? Come, Allan, and take food. I have fried the liver of that heifer which the king sent us; it is ready and very good. After you have eaten it you must lie down and sleep a while.”
Now among the household of the Reverend Mr. Owen was an English boy called William Wood, who was not more than twelve or fourteen years of age. This lad knew both Dutch and Zulu, and acted as interpreter to the Owen family during the absence on a journey of a certain Mr. Hulley, who really filled that office. While this conversation was taking place in Dutch he was engaged in rendering every word of it into English for the benefit of the clergyman and his family. When Mr. Owen understood the full terror of the situation, he broke in saying: