“O King,” he added, turning to Panda, “kill me, I pray you, who am not worthy to live, since to him whose hand is red with the blood of his friend, death alone is left, who, while he breathes, must share his sleep with ghosts that watch him with their angry eyes.”

Then Nandie sprang up and said: 

“Nay, Father, listen not to him who is mad, and therefore holy.* What he has done, he has done, who, as he has said, was but a tool in another’s hand.  As for our babe, I know well that he would have died sooner than harm it, for he loved it much, and when it was taken away, for three whole days and nights he wept and would touch no food.  Give this poor man to me, my Father—­to me, his wife, who loves him—­and let us go hence to some other land, where perchance we may forget.”

[*—­The Zulus suppose that insane people are inspired.—­A.  Q.]

“Be silent, daughter,” said the King; “and you, O Zikali, the Nyanga, be silent also.”

They obeyed, and, after thinking awhile, Panda made a motion with his hand, whereon the two councillors lifted the kaross from off Mameena, who looked about her calmly and asked if she were taking part in some child’s game.

“Aye, woman,” answered Panda, “you are taking part in a great game, but not, I think, such as is played by children—­a game of life and death.  Now, have you heard the tale of Zikali the Little and Wise, and the words of Saduko, who was once your husband, or must they be repeated to you?”

“There is no need, O King; my ears are too quick to be muffled by a fur bag, and I would not waste your time.”

“Then what have you to say, woman?”

“Not much,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, “except that I have lost in this game.  You will not believe me, but if you had left me alone I should have told you so, who did not wish to see that poor fool, Saduko, killed for deeds he had never done.  Still, the tale he told you was not told because I had bewitched him; it was told for love of me, whom he desired to save.  It was Zikali yonder; Zikali, the enemy of your House, who in the end will destroy your House, O Son of Senzangakona, that bewitched him, as he has bewitched you all, and forced the truth out of his unwilling heart.

“Now, what more is there to say?  Very little, as I think.  I did the things that are laid to my charge, and worse things which have not been stated.  Oh, I played for great stakes, I, who meant to be the Inkosazana of the Zulus, and, as it chances, by the weight of a hair I have lost.  I thought that I had counted everything, but the hair’s weight which turned the balance against me was the mad jealousy of this fool, Saduko, upon which I had not reckoned.  I see now that when I left Saduko I should have left him dead.  Thrice I had thought of it.  Once I mixed the poison in his drink, and then he came in, weary with his plottings, and kissed me ere he drank; and my woman’s heart grew soft and I overset the bowl that was at his lips.  Do you not remember, Saduko?