Just as—­a little too late—­I had made up my mind that I would go after my own business, and leave Saduko to manage his, through the fence gateway appeared the great, tall Umbelazi leading by the hand a woman.  As I saw in a moment, it did not need certain bangles of copper, ornaments of ivory and of very rare pink beads, called infibinga, which only those of the royal House were permitted to wear, to proclaim her a person of rank, for dignity and high blood were apparent in her face, her carriage, her gestures, and all that had to do with her.

Nandie the Sweet was not a great beauty, as was Mameena, although her figure was fine, and her stature like that of all the race of Senzangakona—­considerably above the average.  To begin with, she was darker in hue, and her lips were rather thick, as was her nose; nor were her eyes large and liquid like those of an antelope.  Further, she lacked the informing mystery of Mameena’s face, that at times was broken and lit up by flashes of alluring light and quick, sympathetic perception, as a heavy evening sky, that seems to join the dim earth to the dimmer heavens, is illuminated by pulsings of fire, soft and many-hued, suggesting, but not revealing, the strength and splendour that it veils.  Nandie had none of these attractions, which, after all, anywhere upon the earth belong only to a few women in each generation.  She was a simple, honest-natured, kindly, affectionate young woman of high birth, no more; that is, as these qualities are understood and expressed among her people.

Umbelazi led her forward into the presence of the King, to whom she bowed gracefully enough.  Then, after casting a swift, sidelong glance at Saduko, which I found it difficult to interpret, and another of inquiry at me, she folded her hands upon her breast and stood silent, with bent head, waiting to be addressed.

The address was brief enough, for Panda was still sleepy.

“My daughter,” he said, with a yawn, “there stands your husband,” and he jerked his thumb towards Saduko.  “He is a young man and a brave, and unmarried; also one who should grow great in the shadow of our House, especially as he is a friend of your brother, Umbelazi.  I understand also that you have seen him and like him.  Unless you have anything to say against it, for as, not being a common father, the King receives no cattle—­at least in this case—­I am not prejudiced, but will listen to your words,” and he chuckled in a drowsy fashion.  “I propose that the marriage should take place to-morrow.  Now, my daughter, have you anything to say?  For if so, please say it at once, as I am tired.  The eternal wranglings between your brethren, Cetewayo and Umbelazi, have worn me out.”

Now Nandie looked about her in her open, honest fashion, her gaze resting first on Saduko, then on Umbelazi, and lastly upon me.

“My Father,” she said at length, in her soft, steady voice, “tell me, I beseech you, who proposes this marriage?  Is it the Chief Saduko, is it the Prince Umbelazi, or is it the white lord whose true name I do not know, but who is called Macumazahn, Watcher-by-Night?”