“I fear you have been dreadfully frightened,” he said. “Needless to explain I had no idea of your presence.”
He felt very concerned, and his face flushed hotly again as he thought what an awful ruffian he must seem in her eyes. This was the second time within twenty-four hours that she had seen him lose his temper, though yesterday, anxiety for her own safety had been the justification. His clothes were plentifully splashed with sulphur and lime, in which salutary decoction he had been dipping sheep when the fracas occurred. At his feet lay the hulking form of the Kafir, breathing stertorously and bleeding like a pig. Yes, what a cut-throat he must seem to her!
But Lilian could not have been of this opinion, for the startled expression faded from her eyes and a delicate tinge showed in the warm paleness of her cheek.
“I had been for a walk in the garden, and came suddenly upon you. I couldn’t help seeing it all. He seems badly hurt; can’t we do anything for him?” she pursued, going up to look at the prostrate barbarian, and again growing pale at the sight of the blood. For Mopela lying there, with all the results on his countenance of the punishment he had received, was not an exhilarating object to gaze upon.
“Do anything for him? Oh, no; he’s all right. Look.”
The Kafir opened his eyes stupidly and staggered to his feet. Then, with a glance of deadly hatred at his chastiser, he took up the buckets and walked away, his gait rolling and uneven.
“You don’t know what I’ve had to put up with from that bru—that rascal for some time past. Well, he’s got it now, at all events. I knew it was only a question of time. The only thing I regret is that it should have been at so inopportune a time,” he added, in tones of deep concern. He was exceedingly vexed and disgusted with himself. Mopela might have inflicted upon him a whole vocabulary of impudence before he would have afforded Lilian such an exhibition had he but foreseen.
“I suppose you find these natives very trying?” she said.
“Not as a rule. On the contrary, I always pull well enough with them. But that chap’s defiance had reached such a point that one of us had to knuckle under. It would never have done for that one to have been myself.”
“I suppose not,” answered Lilian, with a little smile at the idea of her escort of yesterday “knuckling under” to anybody. “And now I must not delay you. I see you are busy—but—would you mind walking back to the house with me? I am easily frightened, and these savages do look so dreadful when they are angry.”