“I will.”
“But it is a dog’s punishment. It will disgrace me for ever. Shoot me.”
Hume pulled the end of the rheim through the spokes, and pulled on it, then made a hitch. The young Boer placed his foot against the rim, exerted his strength, and snapped the strong hide.
“Now,” he shouted furiously, “I will make you shoot,” and with a bound he seized the pole of the scherm and whirled it round his head.
“What is this?” said a fresh voice, and Miss Anstrade, looking her old self, except for the angry red mark above her forehead, and the wounds on her white hands, stepped forward.
“This is one of the men who carried you away,” said Hume, “and I threatened to flog him unless he could explain.”
“It is not so,” said Piet furiously; “you threatened me first and asked me nothing.”
“Put your guns down,” said Miss Anstrade.
The two friends obeyed.
She walked quietly up to Piet, and took the pole from his hand.