The Molimo led her forward to the foot of the crucifix, where, upon its lowest step and upon the cemented floor immediately beneath it respectively, lay two shapes decorously covered with shawls of some heavy material interwoven with gold wire, for the manufacture of which the Makalanga were famous when first the Portuguese came into contact with them.  The Molimo took hold of the cloths that seemed almost as good now as on the day when they were woven, and lifted them, revealing beneath the figures of a man and woman.  The features were unrecognizable, although the hair, white in the man’s case and raven black in that of the woman, remained perfect.  They had been great people, for orders glittered upon the man’s breast, and his sword was gold hilted, whilst the woman’s bones were adorned with costly necklaces and jewels, and in her hand was still a book bound in sheets of silver.  Benita took it up and looked at it.  It was a missal beautifully illuminated, which doubtless the poor lady had been reading when at length she sank exhausted into the sleep of death.

“See the Lord Ferreira and his wife,” said the Molimo, “whom their daughter laid thus before she went to join them.”  Then, at a motion from Benita, he covered them up again with their golden cloths.

“Here they sleep,” he went on in his chanting voice, “a hundred and fifty and three of them—­a hundred and fifty and three; and when I dream in this place at night, I have seen the ghosts of every one of them arise from beside their forms and come gliding down the cave—­the husband with the wife, the child with the mother—­to look at me, and ask when the maiden returns again to take her heritage and give them burial.”

Benita shuddered; the solemn awfulness of the place and scene oppressed her.  She began to think that she, too, saw those ghosts.

“It is enough,” she said.  “Let us be going.”

So they went, and the pitiful, agonized Christ upon the cross, at which she glanced from time to time over her shoulder, faded to a white blot, then vanished away in the darkness, through which, from generation to generation, it kept its watch above the dead, those dead that in their despair once had cried to it for mercy, and bedewed its feet with tears.

Glad, oh! glad was she when she had left that haunted place behind her, and saw the wholesome light again.

“What have you seen?” asked her father and Meyer, in one breath, as they noted her white and frightened face.

She sank upon a stone seat at the entrance of the cave, and before she could open her lips the Molimo answered for her: 

“The maiden has seen the dead.  The Spirit who goes with her has given greeting to its dead that it left so long ago.  The maiden has done reverence to the White One who hangs upon the cross, and asked a blessing and a pardon of Him, as she whose Spirit goes with her did reverence before the eyes of my forefathers, and asked a blessing and a pardon ere she cast herself away.”  And he pointed to the little golden crucifix which hung upon Benita’s bosom, attached to the necklace which Tamas, the messenger, had given her at Rooi Krantz.