"Do I dream? Are you mad?
What may it be?"
"Go, dog," cried the Dutchwoman; "I would have been a rich woman this day
if it had not been for your laziness. Praying with the Kaffers behind the
kraal walls. Go, you Kaffer's dog!"
"But what then is the matter? What may have happened since I left?" said
the German, turning to the Hottentot woman, who sat upon the step.
She was his friend; she would tell him kindly the truth. The woman
answered by a loud, ringing laugh.
"Give it him, old missis! Give it him!"
It was so nice to see the white man who had been master hunted down. The
coloured woman laughed, and threw a dozen mealie grains into her mouth to
chew.
All anger and excitement faded from the old man's face. He turned slowly
away and walked down the little path to his cabin, with his shoulders bent;
it was all dark before him. He stumbled over the threshold of his own
well-known door.
Em, sobbing bitterly, would have followed him; but the Boer-woman prevented
her by a flood of speech which convulsed the Hottentot, so low were its
images.
"Come, Em," said Lyndall, lifting her small proud head, "let us go in. We
will not stay to hear such language."
She looked into the Boer-woman's eyes. Tant Sannie understood the meaning
of the look if not the words. She waddled after them, and caught Em by the
arm.
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