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Updated: June 24, 2025
Then one more struggle and they rolled exhausted on the ground just clear of the lip of the racing flood. Thus through tempest, threatened by the waters of death from which he snatched her, and companioned by heaven's lightnings, did Richard Darrien come into the life of Rachel Dove.
For hour after hour she tossed and turned, and at length sat up, saying to Noie: "I have fought against it, and I can stay here no longer. Noie, I am being drawn from this place out into the forest, and I must go." "What draws thee, Sister?" asked Noie. "Is it Eddo?" "No, I think not, nothing to do with Eddo. Oh! Noie, Noie, it is the spirit of Richard Darrien.
Richard Darrien shall suffer the punishment of death, for having tried to kill his sentry and escape, a crime of which he has been guilty, and afterwards I should take you as my wife with, or without, your consent." When Richard heard these words the veins in his forehead swelled with rage and horror till it seemed as though they would burst.
Dove shook his head, but his wife sat up suddenly in bed, and plucked him by the sleeve, for she had been listening intently to everything that passed. "Dario! Young, fair hair, in love with him " she repeated in a thick whisper, then added, "John, it is Richard Darrien grown up the boy who saved her in the Umtooma River, years ago, and whom she has never forgotten. Oh! thank God! Thank God!
They came for hours and days and years and centuries, they came eternally, and as they came every finger of that host, compared to which all the sands of all the seas were but as a handful, was pointed at her, and every mouth shaped the words: "Is it I whom thou seekest?" Million by million she scanned them all, but the face of Richard Darrien was not there. Now the dead Zulus were marching by.
Thus when she saw the man called Ishmael, she knew well enough that he was destined to bring great evil upon her and hers, as when as a child she met the boy Richard Darrien, she had known other things. But she did not, therefore, fear the man and his attendant evil.
She covered her face with her golden hair, and wept behind its veil. She looked up and saw two great eyes gazing at her no face, only two great, steady eyes. Then a voice speaking in her heart asked her why she wept, whose desire had been fulfilled, and she answered that it was because she could not find him whom she sought, Richard Darrien. Instantly the tongues and trumpets took up the name.
He walked forward a few paces, then stood still, for the flood of light that revealed him so clearly at first prevented him from seeing her seated in the shadow. Oh! there could be no further doubt before her was Richard Darrien, the lad grown to manhood, from, whom she had parted so many years ago.
What was there to show that the stranger who was riding a black horse was really Richard Darrien? Perhaps it was all a mistake, and he was only one of those white wanderers of the stamp of the outcast Ishmael who, even at that date, made their way into savage countries for the purposes of gain or to enjoy a life of licence.
"Then she can be carried," answered Ishmael callously. "Come, don't waste time in talking. Those are my orders, and I am not going to have my throat cut for either of you. If Mrs. Dove won't dress wrap her up in blankets." "You go, John, you go," whispered his wife, "or they will kill you. Never mind about me; my time has come, and I die happy, for Richard Darrien is with Rachel."
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