He stood before her so that she could not pass without actually pushing by him. “Why are you in such a hurry?” he said. “You were standing still enough just now.”
“It is time for me to be going in. I want to see about the supper.”
“The supper can wait awhile, Bessie, and I cannot wait. I am starting for Paarde Kraal to-morrow at day-break, and I want to say good-bye to you first.”
“Good-bye,” she said, more frightened than ever at his curious constrained manner, and she held out her hand.
He took it and retained it.
“Please let me go,” she said.
“Not till you have heard what I have to say. Look here, Bessie, I love you with all my heart. I know you think I am only a Boer, but I am more than that. I have been to the Cape and seen the world. I have brains, and can see and understand things, and if you will marry me I will lift you up. You shall be one of the first ladies in Africa, though I am only plain Frank Muller now. Great things are going to happen in the country, and I shall be at the head of them, or near it. No, don’t try to get away. I tell you I love you, you don’t know how. I am dying for you. Oh! can’t you believe me? my darling! my darling! Yes, I will kiss you,” and in an agony of passion, that her resistance only fired the more, he flung his strong arms round her and drew her to his breast, fight as she would.
But at this opportune moment an unexpected diversion occurred, of which the hidden Jantje was the cause. Seeing that matters were becoming serious, and being afraid to show himself lest Frank Muller should kill him then and there, as indeed he would have been quite capable of doing, he hit upon another expedient, to the service of which he brought a ventriloquistic power that is not uncommon among natives. Suddenly the silence was broken by a frightful and prolonged wail that seemed to shape itself into the word “Frank,” and to proceed from the air just above the struggling Bessie’s head. The effect produced upon Muller was something wonderful.
“Allemachter!” he cried, looking up, “it is my mother’s voice!”
“Frank!” wailed the voice again, and he let go of Bessie in his perplexity and fear, and turned round to try and discover whence the sound proceeded—a circumstance of which that young lady took advantage to beat a rapid if not very dignified retreat.