For a minute or two I stood hesitating, then, reflecting that if it was Hendrika, there she should stop, I went in and put up the stout wooden bar that was used to secure the door.  For the last few nights old Indaba-zimbi had made a habit of sleeping in the covered passage, which was the only other possible way of access.  As I came to bed I had stepped over him rolled up in his blanket, and to all appearances fast asleep.  So it being evident that I had nothing to fear, I promptly dismissed the matter from my mind, which, as may be imagined, was indeed fully occupied with other thoughts.

I got into bed, and for awhile lay awake thinking of the great happiness in store for me, and of the providential course of events that had brought it within my reach.  A few weeks since and I was wandering in the desert a dying man, bearing a dying child, and with scarcely a possession left in the world except a store of buried ivory that I never expected to see again.  And now I was about to wed one of the sweetest and loveliest women on the whole earth—­a woman whom I loved more than I could have thought possible, and who loved me back again.  Also, as though that were not good fortune enough, I was to acquire with her very considerable possessions, quite sufficiently large to enable us to follow any plan of life we found agreeable.  As I lay and reflected on all this I grew afraid of my good fortune.  Old Indaba-zimbi’s melancholy prophecies came into my mind.  Hitherto he had always prophesied truly.  What if these should be true also?  I turned cold as I thought of it, and prayed to the Power above to preserve us both to live and love together.  Never was prayer more needed.  While its words were still upon my lips I dropped asleep and dreamed a most dreadful dream.

I dreamed that Stella and I were standing together to be married.  She was dressed in white, and radiant with beauty, but it was a wild, spiritual beauty which frightened me.  Her eyes shone like stars, a pale flame played about her features, and the wind that blew did not stir her hair.  Nor was this all, for her white robes were death wrappings, and the altar at which we stood was formed of the piled-up earth from an open grave that yawned between us.  So we stood waiting for one to wed us, but no one came.  Presently from the open grave sprang the form of Hendrika.  In her hand was a knife, with which she stabbed at me, but pierced the heart of Stella, who, without a cry, fell backwards into the grave, still looking at me as she fell.  Then Hendrika leaped after her into the grave.  I heard her feet strike heavily.

“Awake, Macumazahn! awake!” cried the voice of Indaba-zimbi.