“Sir, I am going to say a strange thing to you this night.”
He was speaking quite quietly and composedly now, and might have been mistaken for a sane man.
“Sir, I hear that you go down to Zululand to help to fight the fierce Zulus. When I hear it, I was far away, but something come into my head to travel as quick as Wilhelmina can, and come and tell you not to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“How can I say what I do mean? This I know—many shall go down to Zululand who rest in this house to-night, few shall come back.”
“You mean that I shall be killed?”
“I know not. There are things as bad as death, and yet not death.”
He covered his eyes with his hand, and continued:
“I cannot see you dead, but do not go; I pray you do not go.”
“My good Hans, what is the good of coming to me with such an old wives’ tale? Even if it were true, and I knew that I must be killed twenty times, I should go. I cannot run away from my duty.”