“No, not come; Jack come say Tant Sal go ’way to-night ’long o’ Jack. Gone fetch Kaffir, carry mealies. Come.”
She took his arm tightly and led him to the door, which he found ajar, and as soon as they were outside she closed it after them.
“Stop a moment. Let’s have the dog.”
“No: dog make noise, and Jack top. Come.”
The woman led him to the wagon, and mounting on to the box, opened the canvas and crept in silently, while the boy hesitated to follow.
Suppose it was a trap, and Tanta had her husband and two or three men in waiting there.
“Absurd!” he thought the next moment. “Why should they hurt me? They could have robbed the wagon without.”
Mounting then quickly, he felt his arm seized, and he was half drawn into the wagon, where all was black on one side, while the canvas tilt showed faintly in the moonlight on the other.
Dyke was just able to make out that the woman was watching by the canvas, which hung over the front; then she reached back to him.
“Jack say try kill Baas Dyke, but dog come. Kill Baas Dyke some day.”