“Did Swart Piet come here yesterday?” I asked. “I thought that I saw his horse as I walked back from the sea.”
“Yes, he came.”
“What for?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh! mother, why do you ask me? You know well that he is always troubling me, bringing me presents of flowers, and asking me to opsit with him and what not.”
“Then you don’t want to opsit with him?”
“The candle would be short that I should burn with Swart Piet,” answered Suzanne, stamping her foot; “he is an evil man, full of dark words and ways, and I fear him, for I think that since his father’s death he has become worse, and the most of the company he keeps is with those Kaffir witch-doctors.”
“Ah! like father, like son. The mantle of Elijah has fallen upon Elisha, but inside out. Well, it is what I expected, for sin and wizardry were born in his blood. Had you any words with him?”
“Yes, some. I would not listen to his sweet talk, so he grew angry and began to threaten; but just then Ralph came back and he went away, for he is afraid of Ralph.”
“Where has Ralph gone so early?” I asked, changing the subject.
“To the far cattle-kraal to look after the oxen which the Kaffir bargained to break into the yoke. They are choosing them this morning.”