Sleep in peace, O King, and farewell. _Bayete!_"[*]
[*] The royal salute of the Zulus.
For a space there was silence, a silence of expectation while men waited
to hear the tyrant reverse his judgment. But it did not please him to be
merciful, or the needs of policy outweighed his pity.
"Take him away," he repeated. Then, with a slow smile on his face
and one word, "Good-night," upon his lips, supported by the arm of a
soldier, the old warrior and statesman shuffled forth to the place of
death.
Hadden watched and listened in amazement not unmixed with fear. "If
he treats his own servants like this, what will happen to me?" he
reflected. "We English must have fallen out of favour since I left
Natal. I wonder whether he means to make war on us or what? If so, this
isn't my place."
Just then the king, who had been gazing moodily at the ground, chanced
to look up. "Bring the stranger here," he said.
Hadden heard him, and coming forward offered Cetywayo his hand in as
cool and nonchalant a manner as he could command.
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