“I called on my Spirit to help me, but it would not come.  My Spirit was dead in me because now I would do good and not ill.  Yet another Spirit came, that of one Mameena whom once you knew.  She came angrily, like a storm, and I shrank before her.  She said, ’Vile witch, you have plotted to murder Macumazahn, and for that you shall answer to me before another sun has set over this earth of yours.  Now you seek a way of escape from your own wickedness.  Well, it can be had, but at a price.’

“‘What price, O Lady of Death?’ I asked.

“‘The price of your own life, Witch.’

“I laughed into that ghost face of hers and said—­

“’Is this all?  Be swift and show me the way, O Lady of Death, and afterwards we will balance our account.’

“Then she whispered into the ear of my heart and was gone.  I ran on, for the dawn was near.  I whitened myself with lime, I put on the glittering cloak and powdered my hair with the sparkling earth.  I took a little stick in my hand since I could find no spear and had no time to search, and just as day began to break, I crept out and stood in the bend of the path.  The slayers came, twelve or so of them, but behind were many more.  They saw the Inkosazana-y-Zulu barring their way and were much afraid.  They fled, but out of his fright one of them threw a spear which went home, as I knew it would.  He watched to see if I should fall, but I would not fall.  Then he fled faster than the rest, knowing himself accursed who had lifted steel against the Queen of Heaven, and oh!  I am glad, I am glad!”

She ceased, exhausted, yet with a great exultation in her beautiful eyes; indeed at that moment she looked a most triumphant creature.  I stared at her, thrilled through and through.  She had been wicked, no doubt, but how splendid was her end; and, thank Heaven! she was troubled with no thought of what might befall her after that end, although I was sure she believed that she would live again to face Mameena.

I knew not what to do.  I did not like to leave her, especially as no earthly power could help her case, since slowly but quite surely she was bleeding to death from an internal wound.  By now the sun was up and Zikali’s people were about.  One of them appeared suddenly and saw, then with a howl of terror turned to fly away.

“Fool!  Fool!” I cried, “go summon the lady Heddana and the Inkosi Mauriti.  Bid them come swiftly if they would see the doctoress Nombe before she dies.”

The man leapt off like a buck, and within a few minutes I saw Heda and Anscombe running towards us, half dressed, and went to meet them.

“What is it?” she gasped.

“I have only time to tell you this,” I answered.  “Nombe is dying.  She gave her life to save you, how I will explain afterwards.  The assegai that pierced her was meant for your heart.  Go, thank her, and bid her farewell.  Anscombe, stop back with me.”