her bag."

"It is strange," he answered. "What could the little maid want with
these unless she was minded to make a journey?"

"At times it comes into the thoughts of children to play truant,
husband."

"Yes, yes, that is so, but pray God that we may find her before the moon
sets."

Then while I filled the saddle-bags Jan swallowed some meat, and a fresh
horse having been brought he kissed me and rode away in the twilight.

Oh! what hours were those that followed! All night long I sat there
on the _stoep_, though the wind chilled me and the dew wet my clothes,
watching and praying as, I think, I never prayed before. This I knew
well--that our Suzanne, our only child, the light and joy of our home,
was in danger so great that the Lord alone could save her. The country
where we lived was lonely, savages still roamed about it who hated the
white man, and might steal or kill her; also it was full of leopards,
hyenas, and other beasts of prey which would devour her. Worst of all,
the tides on the coast were swift and treacherous, and it well might
happen that if she was wandering among the great rocks the sea would
come in and drown her. Indeed, again and again it seemed to me that I
could hear her death-cry in the sob of the wind.

At length the dawn broke, and with it came Jan. One glance at his face
was enough for me. "She is not dead?" I gasped.