beat upon by the storms of heaven and terrified with its lightnings, nor knowing whither I hewed my path.  Perhaps in that place there would be no longer what St. Paul describes as another law in my members warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin.  Perhaps there the past would be forgiven by the Power which knows whereof we are made, and I should become what I have always longed to be—­good in every sense and even find open to me new and better roads of service.  I take these thoughts from a note that I made in my pocket-book at the time.

Thus I reflected and then wrote a few lines of farewell in the fond and foolish hope that somehow they might find those to whom they were addressed (I have those letters still and very oddly they read to-day).  This done, I tried to throw out my mind towards Brother John if he still lived, as indeed I had done for days past, so that I might inform him of our plight and, I am afraid, reproach him for having brought us to such an end by his insane carelessness or want of faith.

Whilst I was still engaged thus Babemba arrived with his soldiers to lead us off to execution.  It was Hans who came to tell me that he was there.  The poor old Hottentot shook me by the hand and wiped his eyes with his ragged coat-sleeve.

“Oh!  Baas, this is our last journey,” he said, “and you are going to be killed, Baas, and it is all my fault, Baas, because I ought to have found a way out of the trouble which is what I was hired to do.  But I can’t, my head grows so stupid.  Oh! if only I could come even with Imbozwi I shouldn’t mind, and I will, I will, if I have to return as a ghost to do it.  Well, Baas, you know the Predikant, your father, told us that we don’t go out like a fire, but burn again for always elsewhere——­”

("I hope not,” I thought to myself.)

“And that quite easily without anything to pay for the wood.  So I hope that we shall always burn together, Baas.  And meanwhile, I have brought you a little something,” and he produced what looked like a peculiarly obnoxious horseball.  “You swallow this now and you will never feel anything; it is a very good medicine that my grandfather’s grandfather got from the Spirit of his tribe.  You will just go to sleep as nicely as though you were very drunk, and wake up in the beautiful fire which burns without any wood and never goes out for ever and ever, Amen.”

“No, Hans,” I said, “I prefer to die with my eyes open.”

“And so would I, Baas, if I thought there was any good in keeping them open, but I don’t, for I can’t believe any more in the Snake of that black fool, Mavovo.  If it had been a good Snake, it would have told him to keep clear of Beza Town, so I will swallow one of these pills and give the other to the Baas Stephen,” and he crammed the filthy mess into his mouth and with an effort got it down, as a young turkey does a ball of meal that is too big for its throat.