A little time went by, she never knew how long, till suddenly a rifle shot rang through the stillness.  Benita was able to bear no more.  She rushed down the winding passage, and presently, just beyond its mouth, in a blurred and indistinct fashion saw that the two white men were rolling together on the ground, while the Kaffirs sprang round watching for an opportunity to seize one of them.  At that moment they succeeded, and Robert rose, dusting his hands and knees.

“Amiable gentleman, Mr. Jacob Meyer,” he repeated.  “I could have killed him as his back was towards me, but didn’t because you asked me not.  Then I stumbled with my lame leg, and he whipped round and let drive with his rifle.  Look,” and he showed her where the bullet had cut his ear.  “Luckily I got hold of him before he could loose off another.”

Benita could find no words, her heart was too full of thankfulness.  Only she seized Robert’s hand and kissed it.  Then she looked at Jacob.

He was lying upon the broad of his back, the two big Zulus holding his arms and legs; his lips were cracked, blue and swollen; his face was almost black, but his eyes still shone bright with insanity and hate.

“I know you,” he screamed hoarsely to Robert.  “You are another ghost, the ghost of that man who was drowned.  Otherwise my bullet would have killed you.”

“Yes, Mr. Meyer,” Seymour answered, “I am a ghost.  Now, you boys, here’s a bit of rope.  Tie his hands behind his back and search him.  There is a pistol in that pocket.”

They obeyed, and presently Meyer was disarmed and bound fast to a tree.

“Water,” he moaned.  “For days I have had nothing but the dew I could lick off the leaves.”

Pitying his plight, Benita ran into the cave and returned presently with a tin of water.  One of the Kaffirs held it to his lips, and he drank greedily.  Then, leaving one Zulu to watch him, Robert, Benita, and the other Zulu went back, and as gently as they could carried out Mr. Clifford on his mattress, placing him in the shade of a rock, where he lay blessing them feebly, because they had brought him into the light again.  At the sight of the old man Meyer’s rage blazed up afresh.

“Ah,” he screamed, “if only I had killed you long ago, she would be mine now, not that fellow’s.  It was you who stood between us.”

“Look here, my friend,” broke in Robert.  “I forgive you everything else, but, mad or sane, be good enough to keep Miss Clifford’s name off your lips, or I will hand you over to those Kaffirs to be dealt with as you deserve.”

Then Jacob understood, and was silent.  They gave him more water and food to eat, some of the meat that they had brought with them, which he devoured ravenously.

“Are you sensible now?” asked Robert when he had done.  “Then listen to me; I have some good news for you.  That treasure you have been hunting for has been found.  We are going to give you half of it, one of the waggons and some oxen, and clear you out of this place.  Then if I set eyes on you again before we get to a civilized country, I shoot you like a dog.”