Noie looked him up and down with her soft, dreamy brown eyes.
“Do you think so, Night-prowler?” she asked. “Do you think that what you did to the father and his house, you will do to the daughter also? Well, it is strange, but last night, just before the cock crew, I sat by Seyapi’s grave, and he spoke to me of you, White Man. Listen, now, and I will tell you what he said,” and stepping forward she whispered in his ear.
Rachel, watching, saw the man’s swarthy face turn pale as he hearkened, then he lifted his hand as though to strike her, let it fall again, and muttering curses in English and in Zulu, turned and walked, or rather staggered away.
“What did you tell him, Noie?” asked Rachel.
“Never mind, Zoola,” she answered. “Perhaps the truth; perhaps what came into my mind. At any rate I frightened him away. He was making love to you, was he not, the low _silwana _(wild beast)? Ah! I thought so, for that he has wished to do for long. And he threatened, did he not? Well, you are right; he cannot hurt you at all, and me only a little, I think. But he is very dangerous and very strong, and can hurt others. If your father is wise he will leave this place, Zoola.”
“I think so too,” answered Rachel. “Let us go home and tell him so.”
When Rachel and Noie reached the house, which they did not do for some time, as they waited to make sure that Ishmael had really gone, it was to see the man himself riding away from its gate.
“Be prepared,” said Noie; “I think that he has been here before us to pour poison into your father’s ears.”
So it proved to be, indeed, for on the stoep or verandah they found Mr. Dove walking up and down evidently much disturbed in mind.
“What is all this trouble, Rachel?” he asked. “What have you done to Mr. Smith”—for Mr. Dove in pursuance of the suggestion made by the man, had adopted that name for him which he considered less peculiar than Ishmael. “He has been here much upset, declaring that you have used him cruelly, and that Nonha threatened him with terrible things in the future, of which, of course, she can know nothing.”
“Well, father, if you wish to hear,” answered Rachel, “Mr. Ishmael, or Mr. Smith as you call him, has been asking me to marry him, and when I refused, as of course I did, behaved very unpleasantly.”