window, "because someone from Maraisfontein--I think it was the Vulture"
(the natives gave this name to Leblanc on account of his bald head and
hooked nose)--"shot Quabie's son on Sunday when he was holding his
horse."

"Good God!" I said again, "the old fool must have been drunk. When did
you say the attack was to be--at dawn?" and I glanced at the stars,
adding, "Why, that will be within less than an hour, and the Baas Marais
is away."

"Yes," croaked Hans; "and Missie Marie--think of what the Red Kaffirs
will do with Missie Marie when their blood is up."

I thrust my fist through the window and struck the Hottentot's toad-like
face on which the starlight gleamed faintly.

"Dog!" I said, "saddle my mare and the roan horse and get your gun. In
two minutes I come. Be swift or I kill you."

"I go," he answered, and shot out into the night like a frightened
snake.

Then I began to dress, shouting as I dressed, till my father and the
Kaffirs ran into the room. As I threw on my things I told them all.

"Send out messengers," I said, "to Marais--he is at Botha's farm--and to
all the neighbours. Send, for your lives; gather up the friendly
Kaffirs and ride like hell for Maraisfontein. Don't talk to me, father;
don't talk! Go and do what I tell you. Stay! Give me two guns, fill
the saddle-bags with powder tins and loopers, and tie them to my mare.