In one of these huts, that to the right which was allotted to Anscombe and myself, I found the others waiting for me, also the food.  It was good of its sort and well cooked, and we ate it by the light of some candles that we had with us, Kaatje serving us.  Yet, although a little while before I had been desperately hungry, now my appetite seemed to have left me and I made but a poor meal.  Heda and Anscombe also seemed oppressed and ate sparingly.  We did not talk much until Kaatje had taken away the tin plates and gone to eat her own supper by a fire that burned outside the hut.  Then Heda broke out, saying that she was terrified of this place and especially of its master, the old dwarf, and felt sure that something terrible was going to happen to her.  Anscombe did his best to calm her, and I also told her she had nothing to fear.

“If there is nothing to fear, Mr. Quatermain,” she answered, turning on me, “why do you look so frightened yourself?  By your face you might have seen a ghost.”

This sudden and singularly accurate thrust, for after all I had seen something that looked very like a ghost, startled me, and before I could invent any soothing and appropriate fib, Nombe appeared, saying that she had come to lead Heda to her sleeping-place.  After this further conversation was impossible since, although Nombe knew but few words of English, she was a great thought-reader and I feared to speak of anything secret in her presence.  So we all went out of the hut, Nombe and I drawing back a little to the fire while the lovers said good-night to each other.

“Nombe,” I said, “the Inkosikazi Heddana is afraid.  The rocks of this kloof lie heavy on her heart; the face of the Opener of Roads is fearful to her and his laughter grates upon her ears.  Do you understand?”

“I understand, Macumazahn, and it is as I expected.  When you yourself are frightened it is natural that she, an untried maiden, should be frightened also in this home of spirits.”

“It is men we fear, not spirits, now when all Zululand is boiling like a pot,” I replied angrily.

“Have it as you will, Macumazahn,” she said, and at that moment her quiet, searching eyes and fixed smile were hateful to me.  “At least you admit that you do fear.  Well, for the lady Heddana fear nothing.  I sleep across the door of her hut, and while I who have learned to love her, live, I say—­for her fear nothing, whatever may chance or whatever you may see or hear.”

“I believe you, but, Nombe, you might die.”

“Yes, I may die, but be sure of this, that when I die she will be safe, and he who loves her also.  Sleep well, Macumazahn, and do not dream too much of what you heard and saw in Zikali’s house.”

Then before I could speak she turned and left me.