The captain, Nahoon, afforded a more curious study. As the fatal
words crossed the king's lips, his face took an expression of absolute
astonishment, which was presently replaced by one of fury--the just fury
of a man who suddenly has suffered an unutterable wrong. His whole frame
quivered, the veins stood out in knots on his neck and forehead, and his
fingers closed convulsively as though they were grasping the handle of a
spear. Presently the rage passed away--for as well might a man be wroth
with fate as with a Zulu despot--to be succeeded by a look of the most
hopeless misery. The proud dark eyes grew dull, the copper-coloured face
sank in and turned ashen, the mouth drooped, and down one corner of
it there trickled a little line of blood springing from the lip bitten
through in the effort to keep silence. Lifting his hand in salute to the
king, the great man rose and staggered rather than walked towards the
gate.
As he reached it, the voice of Cetywayo commanded him to stop. "Stay,"
he said, "I have a service for you, Nahoon, that shall drive out of your
head these thoughts of wives and marriage.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32