“Mercy! Great Great One! Mercy for these!” cried the stranger, pointing to the doomed slaves.
We who watched trembled for the life of the speaker; those of us who did not tremble for our own—and of these there could be but few—for this was a terrible thing which had happened, such a thing as had never before been known, that any man, white or black, should dare to interfere between the King’s decrees and their execution. But still the white priest stood upon the brink of that grisly pool of death pleading forgiveness, not for himself, but for those two miserable slaves. Ha! That was a sight indeed.
“You do not know us yet, O stranger!” went on Umzilikazi, now in bitter and sneering tones; “else had you not thought to save the lives of these two by any such means. For now have you doomed many to death, even all those whose errand it was to carry out my sentence and have allowed themselves to hesitate in doing so. For they, too, are dead men.”
A gasp of horror, which was almost a sob, ran through the multitude. The izimbonga bellowed aloud in praise of the King’s justice; but even their voices were not without a quaver. But the white priest stood facing the angry countenance of the King; and upon his own was stamped a great and deep sadness, but never a trace of fear.
“Be merciful, thou ruler of a great nation!” he pleaded more earnestly. “Mercy is the quality by which a King may show himself truly great. We have been friends. Oh, slay not these men, when the fault is entirely mine.”
“Not entirely. The fault of the man who hesitates to obey my word is entirely his own, and the penalty thereof he knows,” said Umzilikazi, pitilessly. “We have been friends, white stranger; but of what sort is the friendship which teaches those who are my dogs to laugh at me? Friend as thou art, I know not how thine own life shall be left thee after such an act as this.”
Something in the words seemed to strike the white isanusi. His face lightened up.
“See now, O King!” he replied. “The fault is mine. If I am a traitor in your eyes, who were my friend, take my life instead of the lives of these. Take my life, but spare theirs.”
“Ha!”
The gasp of amazement which softly left the lips of the King was echoed by a shiver from the crouching multitude.