She opened her robe and pointed; it was quite a small gash beneath the breast from which blood ebbed slowly.

“Let it be, Macumazahn,” she said.  “I am bleeding inside and it is mortal.  But I shall not die yet.  Listen to me while I have my mind.  Yesterday when Mauriti and Heddana went up to the plain I wished to go with them because I had news that Zulus were wandering everywhere and thought that I might be able to protect my mistress from danger.  Mauriti spoke to me roughly, telling me that I was not wanted.  Of that I thought little, for to such words I am accustomed from him; moreover, they are to be forgiven to a man in love.  But it did not end there, for my lady Heddana also pierced me with her tongue, which hurt more than this spear thrust does, Macumazahn, for I could see that her speech had been prepared and that she took this chance to throw it at me.  She said that I did not know where I should sit; that I was a thorn beneath her nail, and that whenever she wished to talk with Mauriti, or with you, Macumazahn, I was ever there with my ear open like the mouth of a gourd.  She commanded me in future to come only when I was called; all of which things I am sure Mauriti had taught her, who in herself is too gentle even to think them—­unless you taught her, Macumazahn.”

I shook my head and she went on—­

“No, it was not you who also are too gentle, and having suffered yourself, can feel for those who suffer, which Mauriti who has never suffered cannot do.  Still, you too thought me a trouble, one that sticks in the flesh like a hooked thorn, or a tick from the grass, and cannot be unfastened.  You spoke to the Master about it and he spoke to me.”

This time I nodded in assent.

“I do not blame you, Macumazahn; indeed now I see that you were wise, for what right has a poor black doctoress to seek the love, or even to look upon the face of the great white lady whom for a little while Fate has caused to walk upon the same path with her?  But yesterday I forgot that, Macumazahn, for you see we are all of us, not one self, but many selves, and each self has its times of rule.  Nombe alive and well was one woman, Nombe dying is another, and doubtless Nombe dead will be a third, unless, as she prays, she should sleep for ever.

“Macumazahn, those words of Heddana’s were to me what gall is to sweet milk.  My blood clotted and my heart turned sour.  It was not against her that I was angry, because that can never happen, but against Mauriti and against you.  My Spirit whispered in my ear.  It said, ’If Mauriti and Macumazahn were dead the lady Heddana would be left alone in a strange land.  Then she would learn to rest upon you as upon a stick, and learn to love the stick on which she rested, though it be so rough and homely.’  But how can I kill them, I asked of my Spirit, and myself escape death?

“‘Poison is forbidden to you by the pact between us,’ answered my Spirit, ’yet I will show you a way, who am bound to serve you in all things good or ill.’