Once more darkness came, and this night, notwithstanding the cold, we spent wrapped in rugs, on the roof of the house.  It had occurred to us that kidnapping would be less easy there, as we could make some sort of a fight at the head of the stairway, or, if the worst came to the worst, dive from the parapet and break our necks.  We kept watch turn and turn about.  During my watch about midnight I heard a noise going on in the hut behind us; scuffling and a stifled cry which turned my blood cold.  About an hour later a fire was lighted in the centre of the market-place where the sheep had been sacrificed, and by the flare of it I could see people moving.  But what they did I could not see, which was perhaps as well.

Next morning only one of the camelmen was left.  This remaining man was now almost crazy with fear, and could give no clear account of what had happened to his companion.

The poor fellow implored us to take him away to our house, as he feared to be left alone with “the black devils.”  We tried to do so, but armed guards appeared mysteriously and thrust him back into his own hut.

This day was an exact repetition of the others.  The same inspection of the deceased and renewal of his food; the same cold, clouded sky, the same agitated conferences in the market-place.

For the third time darkness fell upon us in that horrible place.  Once more we took refuge on the roof, but this night neither of us slept.  We were too cold, too physically miserable, and too filled with mental apprehensions.  All nature seemed to be big with impending disaster.  The sky appeared to be sinking down upon the earth.  The moon was hidden, yet a faint and lurid light shone now in one quarter of the horizon, now in another.  There was no wind, but the air moaned audibly.  It was as though the end of the world were near as, I reflected, probably might be the case so far as we were concerned.  Never, perhaps, have I felt so spiritually terrified as I was during the dreadful inaction of that night.  Even if I had known that I was going to be executed at dawn, I think that by comparison I should have been light-hearted.  But the worst part of the business was that I knew nothing.  I was like a man forced to walk through dense darkness among precipices, quite unable to guess when my journey would end in space, but enduring all the agonies of death at every step.

About midnight again we heard that scuffle and stifled cry in the hut behind us.

“He’s gone,” I whispered to Marut, wiping the cold sweat from my brow.

“Yes,” answered Marut, “and very soon we shall follow him, Macumazana.”

I wished that his face were visible so that I could see if he still smiled when he uttered those words.

An hour or so later the usual fire appeared in the marketplace, round which the usual figures flitted dimly.  The sight of them fascinated me, although I did not want to look, fearing what I might see.  Luckily, however, we were too far off to discern anything at night.