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"Yet I think I will silence forever that horror," said Laurence, stepping to the brink of the cliff and peering down into the awful hollow. "Yes, there the beast is; I will risk a long shot," and he sighted the carbine. But in a moment Lindela's arms were around him, pinioning his to his sides. "Not so, beloved," she whispered earnestly.
I have dwelt long among your people, and at the prospect of leaving them my heart is sore." As the last words left his lips, Laurence learned in just one brief flash of a second exactly what he wanted to know. But the look of startled pain in Lindela's face gave way to one of surprise. "Of leaving them?" she echoed. "Has the Great Great One, then, ordered you to begone, Nyonyoba?" "Not yet.
"As friends indeed do we part, O Rahman," replied Laurence. And they resumed their respective ways. As time went on, Lindela's manner seemed to undergo a change her spirits to flag. Was it the fearful malarial heat of the low-lying forest country, often swampy, which was affecting her? thought Laurence with concern.
And the call of birds, high among the tree-tops, alone broke the silence, in the semi-gloom of the forest aisles. Lindela's voice had sunk until it was well-nigh inaudible, and Laurence was constrained to bend his head to hers in order to catch her every word. Then a flash of gladness seemed momentarily to light up the drowsy eyes, and she spoke no more.
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