The Leopard Woman Part 31

"And if any man grumbles, or if any man objects even one word to what I do or where I go, bring him to me at once. Understand?"

"Yes, _bwana_."

"_Ba.s.si_."

"What is it you intend to do now?" asked the Leopard Woman curiously.

"Go back, of course."

"Back--where?"

"To M'tela."

She gasped.

"But you cannot do that! You have not considered; you have not thought."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"But it means blindness; blindness for always!"

"I know my duty."

"But to be blind, to be blind always; never to see the sun, the wide veldt, the beasts, and the birds! Never to read a book, to see a man's face, a woman's form; to sit always in darkness waiting--you cannot do that!"

He winced at her words but did not reply. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders.

"Please do not do this foolishness," she pleaded softly; "it is not worth it! See, I have given my word! If you had thought I would go ahead of you to M'tela, all that danger is past. A fresh start, you said it yourself. Do you think I would deceive you?"

She was hovering very close to him; he could feel her breath on his cheek. Firmly but gently he took her two wrists and thrust her away from him.

"Listen, my dear," he said gently, "this is a time for clear thinking.

My country is at war with Germany; and my whole duty is to her. You are an Austrian."

"My country, too, is at war," she said unexpectedly.

"Ah, you knew that would happen, too," he said after a startled pause.

"I know only this: that if in times of peace it was important to my government that M'tela's friendship be gained, it is ten times as important in time of war. I must go back and do my best."

"But why?" she interjected eagerly. "This savage tribe--it is in the remote hinterland; it knows nothing of the white man or the white man's quarrels. What difference can it make?"

"That is not my affair. For one thing, he is on the border."

"But what difference of that? The border means nothing. The fate of their colonies will be fought in Europe, not here. What happens to this country depends on who wins there below."

"Can you state positively of your own knowledge that no invasion or movement of German troops is planned across M'tela's country? On your sacred word of honour?" propounded Kingozi suddenly.

"On my word of honour," she repeated slowly, "no such movement."

"Do you know what you are talking about?"

She was silent.

"It doesn't sound reasonable--an invasion from that quarter--what could they gain either on that side or on this?" Kingozi ruminated. A sudden thought struck him. "And that there is no reason whatever, from my point of view as a loyal British subject, against my going out at this time? On your word?"

"Oh!" she cried distressedly, "you ask such questions! How can I answer----"

He stopped her with grave finality.

"That is sufficient. I go back."

She did not attempt to combat him.

"I have done my duty, too," she said dully. "Mine is not the Viennese conscience. My parole; I must take that back. From to-morrow I take it back."

"I understand. I am sorry. To-morrow I place my guard."

"Oh, why cannot you have the sense?" she cried pa.s.sionately. "I cannot bear it! That you must be blind! That I must kill you if I can, once more!"

Kingozi smiled quietly to himself at this confession.

"So you would even kill me?" he queried curiously.

"I must! I must! If it is necessary, I must! I have sworn!"

"Don't you suppose I shall take precautions?"

"Oh, I hope so! I do hope so!" she cried.

Her distress was so genuine, her unconsciousness of the anomaly of her att.i.tude so nave that Kingozi forbore even to smile.

"I must go on," he concluded simply.

CHAPTER XXII

THE SECOND MESSENGERS

The return journey began. A remarkable tribute to Kingozi's influence, not only over his own men, but over those of the new safari, might have been read from the fact that there was brought for correction not one grumble, either over the halving of the _potio_ or the apparently endless counter-marching. As far as the white members were concerned the journey was one of doggedness and gloom. Kingozi's strong will managed to keep to the foreground the details of his immediate duty; but to do so he had to sink all other considerations whatever. The same effort required to submerge all thought of the darkened years to come carried down also every recollection of the past. The Leopard Woman ceased to exist, not because she had lost importance, but because Kingozi's mind was focussed on a single point.

And she. Perhaps she understood this; perhaps the tearing antagonism of her own purposes, duties, and desires stunned or occupied her--who knows? The outward result was the same as in the case of her companion.

They walked apart, ate apart, lived each in his superb isolation, going forward like sleep-walkers to what the future might hold.

Thus they travelled for ten days. In mid-march, then, Cazi Moto came to tell Kingozi that two more messengers had arrived.

"They are not people of our country," he added. "They are _shenzis_ such as no man here ever saw before."