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Updated: May 16, 2025
While they waited, Krool seemed to shrink a little; but as he watched like some animal at bay, Stafford noticed that his face became venomous and paler, and some sinister intention showed in his eyes. The whip was brought and laid upon the table beside Barry Whalen, and the footman disappeared, looking curiously at the group and at Krool.
The sjambok had, like a wizard's wand, as it were, lifted him away from England to spaces where he watched from the grey rock of a kopje for the glint of an assegai or the red of a Rooinek's tunic: and he had done both in his day. "We've got you at last, Krool," said Wallstein. "We have been some time at it, but it's a long lane that has no turning, and we have you "
"Like that like that, jackal!" interjected Barry Whalen, opening and shutting his lean fingers with a gesture of savage possession. "What?" asked Krool, with a malevolent thrust forward of his head. "What?" "You betrayed us to Kruger," answered Wallstein, holding the papers. "We have here the proof at last."
The last time any of them, except Wallstein, had seen Byng, was on the evening when he had overheard the slanders concerning Jasmine, and none had pleasant anticipation of this meeting with him now. They recalled his departure when Barry Whalen had said, "God, how he hates us." He was not likely to hate them less, when they proved that Fellowes and Krool had betrayed him and them all.
Fellowes had stolen the needle from Mr. Mappin at Glencader," he added. "How you know that?" asked Krool, in a husky, ragged voice. "I saw him steal it and you?" "No. He tell me." "What did he mean to do with it?" A look came into Krool's eyes, malevolent and barbaric. "Not to kill himself," he reflected. "There is always some one a man or a woman want kill."
Anxiety possessed him, and he swiftly devised means to be rid of Krool before harm could be done. He was certain harm was meant there was a look of semi-insanity in Krool's eyes. Krool must be put out of the way before he could speak with the Baas.... But how? With a great effort Stafford controlled himself.
He was conscious of the perfume from Jasmine's cloak searching his senses, even in this hour when these things that mattered the things of Fate were so enormously awry. "Soon he will speak you. Wait here, madame." Krool passed almost stealthily out.
Bad as you are, the Baas is your Baas for ever and ever, and what he wants to do with you he will do. When his eyes look into yours, you will think the lightning speaks. You are his slave. If he hates you, you will die; if he curses you, you will wither." He played upon the superstitious element, the native strain again. It was deeper in Krool than anything else. "Do you think you can defy them?"
There was a strange silence, in which Stafford could feel Krool's soul struggling in the dark, as it were a struggle as of black spirits in the grey dawn. "I wait the Baas speak," Krool said at last, with a shiver. There was no time for Stafford to answer. Wallstein entered the room hurriedly. "Byng has come.
"The Baas where the Baas?" Barry Whalen turned with an angry snort to the figure in the doorway. "Here's the sweet Krool again," he said. "Here's the faithful, loyal offspring of the Vaal and the karoo, the bulwark of the Baas.... For God's sake smile for once in your life!" he growled with an oath, and, snatching up a glass of whiskey and water, threw the contents at the half-caste.
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