“What do you want?” he cried out quiveringly.
From the darkness at the edge of the kopje a figure stepped out into the full blaze of the firelight.
Trooper Peter Halket looked up at it.
It was the tall figure of a man, clad in one loose linen garment, reaching lower than his knees, and which clung close about him. His head, arms, and feet were bare. He carried no weapon of any kind; and on his shoulders hung heavy locks of dark hair.
Peter Halket looked up at him with astonishment. “Are you alone?” he asked.
“Yes, I am alone.”
Peter Halket lowered his gun and knelt up.
“Lost your way, I suppose?” he said, still holding his weapon loosely.
“No; I have come to ask whether I may sit beside your fire for a while.”
“Certainly, certainly!” said Peter, eyeing the stranger’s dress carefully, still holding his gun, but with the hand off the lock. “I’m confoundedly glad of any company. It’s a beastly night for anyone to be out alone. Wonder you find your way. Sit down! sit down!” Peter looked intently at the stranger; then he put his gun down at his side.