“He turned to my father and said:  ‘Is this true, my uncle?’ And my father answered:  ’Yes, that is the best bargain I could make with the Englishman, seeing that you were not here to make a better.’”

“And what happened then, Marie?”

“Oh, then Hernan thought a while.  At last he looked up and said:  ’I understand.  Things have gone badly.  I acted for the best, who went away to try to find help for all of you.  I failed.  Meanwhile the Englishman came and saved you.  Afterwards he saved me also.  Uncle, in all this I see God’s hand; had it not been for this Allan none of us would be alive.  Yes, God used him that we might be kept alive.  Well, he has promised that he will not marry Marie for six months.  And you know, my uncle, that some of these English are great fools; they keep their promises even to their own loss.  Now, in six months much may happen; who knows what will happen?’”

“Were you present when you heard all this, Marie?” I asked.

“No, Allan; I was the other side of the reed partition.  But at those words I entered and said:  ’My father and Cousin Hernan, please understand that there is one thing which will never happen.’

“‘What is that?’ asked my cousin.

“‘It will never happen that I shall marry you, Hernan,’ I replied.

“‘Who knows, Marie, who knows?’ he said.

“‘I do, Hernan,’ I answered.  ’Even if Allan were to die to-morrow, I would not marry you, either then or twenty years hence.  I am glad that he has saved your life, but henceforth we are cousins, nothing more.’

“‘You hear what the girl tells us,’ said my father; ’why do you not give up the business?  What is the use of kicking against the pricks?’

“‘If one wears stout boots and kicks hard enough, the pricks give way,’ said Hernan.  ‘Six months is a long time, my uncle.’

“‘It may be so, cousin,’ I said; ’but remember that neither six months nor six years, nor six thousand years, are long enough to make me marry any man except Allan Quatermain, who has just rescued you from death.  Do you understand?’

“‘Yes,’ he replied, ’I understand that you will not marry me.  Only then I promise that you shall not marry either Allan Quatermain or any other man.’

“‘God will decide that,’ I answered, and came away, leaving him and my father together.  And now, Allan, tell me all that has happened since we parted.”

So I told her everything, including the Vrouw Prinsloo’s advice.

“Of course, Allan, you were quite right,” she remarked when I had finished; “but I am not sure that the Vrouw Prinsloo was not also right in her own fashion.  I am afraid of my cousin Hernan, who holds my father in his hand—­fast, fast.  Still, we have promised, and must keep our word.”

CHAPTER XI

THE SHOT IN THE KLOOF

I think it was about three weeks after these events that we began our southward trek.  On the morning subsequent to our arrival at Marais’s camp, Pereira came up to me when several people were present, and, taking my hand, thanked me in a loud voice for having saved his life.  Thenceforward, he declared, I should be dearer to him than a brother, for was there not a blood bond between us?