“Swallow,” said Sihamba, pointing to the two largest of the fragments, “and husband of Swallow.  There to the right and left father and mother of Swallow, and here at her feet, a long way off and very small, Sihamba, servant of Swallow, made all of them from the broken glass that shows back the face, which she gave me, and set, as they must be set, like the stars in the Cross of the Skies.”

Now I shivered a little, for in myself I was afraid of this woman’s magic, but to her I laughed and said roughly: 

“What fool’s plaything made of bits of broken glass is this that you have here, Sihamba?”

“It is a plaything that will tell a story to those who can read it,” she answered without anger, but like one who knows she speaks the truth.

“Make it tell its story to me, and I will believe you,” I said laughing again.

She shook her head and answered, “Lady, I cannot, for you have not the Sight; but bring your husband here, and perhaps he will be able to read the story, or some of it.”

Now at this I grew angry, for it is not pleasant to a woman to hear that a man whom all know to be but a child compared to her can see things in water which she is not able to see, even though the things are born only of the false magic of a witch-doctoress.  Still, as at that moment I chanced to hear Jan seeking me, for he wondered where I had gone, I called to him and set out the matter, expecting that he would be very angry and dismiss Sihamba, breaking up her magic bowl.  But all the while that I talked to him the little woman sat, her chin resting upon her hand, looking into his face, and I think that she had some power over him.  At the least, he was not at all angry, although he said that I must not mention the business to the predicant, who was well known to be a prejudiced man.  Then he asked Sihamba to show him the wonders of the bowl.  Replying that she would if she might, and always keeping her eyes fixed upon his face, she bade him kneel down and look into the water in such fashion that he did not shut the moonlight off from it, and to tell us what he saw.

So he knelt and looked, whispering presently that on the midmost piece of glass there appeared the image of Suzanne, and on the others respectively those of Ralph, Jan himself, me his wife, and Sihamba.  I asked him what they were doing, but he could give me no clear answer, so I suppose that they were printed there like the heads on postage stamps, if indeed they existed anywhere except in Jan’s brain, into which Sihamba had conjured them.

“What do you see more?” asked Sihamba.

“I see a shadow in the water,” he answered, “a dark shadow, and—­it is like the head of Swart Piet cut out of black paper—­it spreads till it almost hides all the faces on the bits of glass.  Almost, I say, but not quite, for things are passing beneath the shadow which I cannot distinguish.  Now it shrinks quite small, and lies only over your likeness, Sihamba, which shows through it red—­yes, and all the water round it is red, and now there is nothing left;” and Jan rose pale with fright, and wiped his brow with a coloured pocket-handkerchief, muttering “Allemachter! this is magic indeed.”