Now, I am sure I cannot say what would have happened, although I am quite certain that Pereira had no stomach for a duel with the redoubtable Retief, a man whose courage was as proverbial throughout the land as was his perfect uprightness of character.  At any rate, seeing that things looked very black, Henri Marais, who had been listening to this altercation with evident annoyance, stepped forward and said: 

“Mynheer Retief and nephew Hernan, you are both my guests, and I will not permit quarrelling over this foolishness, especially as I am sure that Hernan never intended to cheat, but only to do what he thought was allowed.  Why should he, who is one of the finest shots in the Colony, though it may be that young Allan Quatermain here is even better?  Will you not say so, too, friend Retief, especially just now when it is necessary that we should all be as brothers?” he added pleadingly.

“No,” thundered Retief, “I will not tell a lie to please you or anyone.”

Then, seeing that the commandant was utterly uncompromising, Marais went up to his nephew and whispered to him for a while.  What he said I do not know.  The result of it was, however, that after favouring both Retief and myself with an angry scowl, Pereira turned and walked to where his horse stood, mounted it, and rode off, followed by two Hottentot after-riders.

That was the last I saw of Hernan Pereira for a long while to come, and heartily do I wish that it had been the last I ever saw of him.  But this was not to be.

CHAPTER VI

THE PARTING

The Boers, who ostensibly had come to the kloof to see the shooting match, although, in fact, for a very different purpose, now began to disperse.  Some of them rode straight away, while some went to wagons which they had outspanned at a distance, and trekked off to their separate homes.  I am glad to say that before they left quite a number of the best of them came up and congratulated me both on the defence of Maraisfontein and on my shooting.  Also not a few expressed their views concerning Pereira in very straightforward language.

Now, the arrangement was that my father and I were to sleep that night at Marais’s stead, returning home on the following morning.  But my father, who had been a silent but not unobservant witness of all this scene, coming to the conclusion that after what had happened we should scarcely be welcome there, and that the company of Pereira was to be avoided just now, went up to Marais and bade him farewell, saying that we would send for my mare.

“Not so, not so,” he answered, “you are my guests to-night.  Also, fear not, Hernan will be away.  He has gone a journey upon some business.”

As my father hesitated, Marais added:  “Friend, I pray you to come, for I have some important words to say to you, which cannot be said here.”

Then my father gave way, to my delight and relief.  For if he had not, what chance would there have been of my getting some still more important words with Marie?  So having collected the geese and the two falcons, which I proposed to skin for Marie, I was helped into the cart, and we drove off, reaching Maraisfontein just as night set in.