hither and thither--"Nay, Swallow, in a way it was my fault."

"What do you mean, Sihamba?"

"I mean, Swallow, that although I am so small some have thought me
pretty, and the real reason of Black Piet's hate for me is--but why
should I defile your ears with the tale?"

"They would only match my face if you did," answered Suzanne grimly,
"but there is no need; I can guess well enough."

"You can guess, Swallow; then you will see why it was my fault. Yes,
yes, you will see that what I, a black woman, who am less than dirt in
the eyes of your people, would not do to save my own life; you, a white
chieftainess, and the fairest whom we know, have done of your own will
to keep it in me."

"If the act was good," answered Suzanne, "may it go to my credit in the
Book of the Great One who made us."

"It will go to your credit, Swallow," answered Sihamba with passion,
"both in that Book and in the hearts of all who hear this story, but
most of all in this heart of mine. Oh! listen, lady; sometimes a cloud
comes over me, and in that cloud I who was born a doctoress see visions
of things that are to happen, true visions. Among them I see this: that
many moons hence and far away I shall live to save you as you have saved
me, but between that day and this the cloud of the future is black to my
eyes, black but living."

"It may be so," answered Suzanne, "for I have heard that you have the