As to the events of the next three days I know only what I have been
told, for practically during all that time I was off my head from loss
of blood, complicated with fever brought on by the fearful excitement
and exertion I had undergone. All I can recall is a vision of Marie
bending over me and making me take food of some sort--milk or soup, I
suppose--for it seems I would touch it from no other hand. Also I had
visions of the tall shape of my white-haired father, who, like most
missionaries, understood something of surgery and medicine, attending to
the bandages on my thigh. Afterwards he told me that the spear had
actually cut the walls of the big artery, but, by good fortune, without
going through them. Another fortieth of an inch and I should have bled
to death in ten minutes!

On this third day my mind was brought back from its wanderings by the
sound of a great noise about the house, above which I heard the voice of
Marais storming and shouting, and that of my father trying to calm him.
Presently Marie entered the room, drawing-to behind her a Kaffir karoos,
which served as a curtain, for the door, it will be remembered, had been
torn out. Seeing that I was awake and reasonable, she flew to my side
with a little cry of joy, and, kneeling down, kissed me on the forehead.

"You have been very ill, Allan, but I know you will recover now. While
we are alone, which," she added slowly and with meaning, "I dare say we
shall not be much in future, I want to thank you from my heart for all
that you did to save me. Had it not been for you, oh! had it not been
for you"--and she glanced at the blood stains on the earthen floor, put
her hands before her eyes and shuddered.

"Nonsense, Marie," I answered, taking her hand feebly enough, for I was