She climbed out on to the box and held the canvas aside for Dyke to follow, which he did, and then tied the opening up again, and leaped down to stand listening to the dog’s barking within the house.
“Tant go sleep,” said the woman; and she hurried off, while Dyke opened the door for the dog to bound out growling, and ready to rush off at a word, but Dyke called him in and shut the door, fastening it now; the fact of the dog sleeping inside being, he thought, sufficient protection—the coming of the woman not being noticed by Duke, who, of course, set her down as a friend.
But Dyke did not lie down for some time after assuring himself that the noise had not roused his brother from his heavy sleep. The boy was uneasy about the woman. She had told him that Jack had threatened to kill her. Suppose he came back now with his companions to take revenge upon her for betraying their plans.
“She wouldn’t know,” he said to himself, after carefully weighing the matter over in his mind, to decide that they would be afraid to come again after such a reception.
So, concluding at last that the woman would be quite safe, Dyke reloaded his gun, placed it ready, and lay down once more, conscious of the fact now that the dog was awake and watchful.
Five minutes after he was asleep, and did not wake till the Kaffir woman came and tapped at the door, to show him, with a look of triumph, four assegais left behind by the visitors of the past night.
“Dat Jack,” she said, holding up one. “Dose oder fellow.”
“Will they come for them?”
“No. Jack no come again. Get other wife. Tant Sal don’t want any more.”