Before nightfall he came, however, as she knew he would.  Indeed, although she heard no step and her back was towards him, she felt his presence; the sense of it fell upon her like a cold shadow.  Turning round she beheld the man.  He was standing close by, but above her, upon a big granite boulder, in climbing which his soft veld schoons, or hide shoes, had made no noise, for Meyer could move like a cat.  The last rays from the sinking sun struck him full, outlining his agile, nervous shape against the sky, and in their intense red light, which flamed upon him, he appeared terrible.  He looked like a panther about to spring; his eyes shone like a panther’s, and Benita knew that she was the prey whom he desired.  Still, remembering her resolution, she determined to show no fear, and addressed him: 

“Good-evening, Mr. Meyer.  Oh!  I am so stiff that I cannot lift my neck to look at you,” and she laughed.

He bounded softly from the rock, like a panther again, and stood in front of her.

“You should thank the God you believe in,” he said, “that by now you are not stiff indeed—­all that the jackals have left of you.”

“I do, Mr. Meyer, and I thank you, too; it was brave of you to come out to save us.  Father,” she called, “come and tell Mr. Meyer how grateful we are to him.”

Mr. Clifford hobbled out from his hut under the tree, saying: 

“I have told him already, dear.”

“Yes,” answered Jacob, “you have told me; why repeat yourself?  I see that supper is ready.  Let us eat, for you must be hungry; afterwards I have something to tell you.”

So they ate, with no great appetite, any of them—­indeed Meyer touched but little food, though he drank a good deal, first of strong black coffee and afterwards of squareface and water.  But on Benita he pressed the choicest morsels that he could find, eyeing her all the while, and saying that she must take plenty of nutriment or her beauty would suffer and her strength wane.  Benita bethought her of the fairy tales of her childhood, in which the ogre fed up the princess whom he purposed to devour.

“You should think of your own strength, Mr. Meyer,” she said; “you cannot live on coffee and squareface.”

“It is all I need to-night.  I am astonishingly well since you came back.  I can never remember feeling so well, or so strong.  I can do the work of three men, and not be tired; all this afternoon, for instance, I have been carrying provisions and other things up that steep wall, for we must prepare for a long siege together; yet I should never know that I had lifted a single basket.  But while you were away—­ah! then I felt tired.”

Benita changed the subject, asking him if he had made any discoveries.

“Not yet, but now that you are back the discoveries will soon come.  Do not be afraid; I have my plan which cannot fail.  Also, it was lonely working in that cave without you, so I only looked about a little outside till it was time to go to meet you, and shoot some of those Matabele.  Do you know?—­I killed seven of them myself.  When I was shooting for your sake I could not miss,” and he smiled at her.