Only of Saduko, who was watching her with his intent and melancholy eyes, she took no heed whatsoever.  Indeed, for a while I thought that she could not have seen him.  Nor did she appear to recognise Cetewayo, although he stared at her hard enough.  But, as her glance fell upon the two executioners, I thought I saw her shudder like a shaken reed.  Then she sat down in the place appointed to her, and the trial began.

The case of Saduko was taken first.  An officer learned in Zulu law—­which I can assure the reader is a very intricate and well-established law—­I suppose that he might be called a kind of attorney-general, rose and stated the case against the prisoner.  He told how Saduko, from a nobody, had been lifted to a great place by the King and given his daughter, the Princess Nandie, in marriage.  Then he alleged that, as would be proved in evidence, the said Saduko had urged on Umbelazi the Prince, to whose party he had attached himself, to make war upon Cetewayo.  This war having begun, at the great battle of Endondakusuka, he had treacherously deserted Umbelazi, together with three regiments under his command, and gone over to Cetewayo, thereby bringing Umbelazi to defeat and death.

This brief statement of the case for the prosecution being finished, Panda asked Saduko whether he pleaded guilty or not guilty.

“Guilty, O King,” he answered, and was silent.

Then Panda asked him if he had anything to say in excuse of his conduct.

“Nothing, O King, except that I was Umbelazi’s man, and when you, O King, had given the word that he and the Prince yonder might fight, I, like many others, some of whom are dead and some alive, worked for him with all my ten fingers that he might have the victory.”

“Then why did you desert my son the Prince in the battle?” asked Panda.

“Because I saw that the Prince Cetewayo was the stronger bull and wished to be on the winning side, as all men do—­for no other reason,” answered Saduko calmly.

Now, everyone present stared, not excepting Cetewayo.  Panda, who, like the rest of us, had heard a very different tale, looked extremely puzzled, while Zikali, in his corner, set up one of his great laughs.

After a long pause, at length the King, as supreme judge, began to pass sentence.  At least, I suppose that was his intention, but before three words had left his lips Nandie rose and said: 

“My Father, ere you speak that which cannot be unspoken, hear me.  It is well known that Saduko, my husband, was my brother Umbelazi’s general and councillor, and if he is to be killed for clinging to the Prince, then I should be killed also, and countless others in Zululand who still remain alive because they were not in or escaped the battle.  It is well known also, my Father, that during that battle Saduko went over to my brother Cetewayo, though whether this brought about the defeat of Umbelazi I cannot say.  Why did he go over?  He tells