"
"Then I am afraid you will have to wait till I am dead," said Hadden.
"Yes, yes," she answered in a pleased voice, "it is a good word. I will
wait till you are dead and then I will take the ring, and none can say
that I have stolen it, for Nahoon there will bear me witness that you
gave me permission to do so."
For the first time Hadden started, since there was something about
the Bee's tone that jarred upon him. Had she addressed him in her
professional manner, he would have thought nothing of it; but in her
cupidity she had become natural, and it was evident that she spoke from
conviction, believing her own words.
She saw him start, and instantly changed her note.
"Let the white lord forgive the jest of a poor old witch-doctoress," she
said in a whining voice. "I have so much to do with Death that his name
leaps to my lips," and she glanced first at the circle of skulls about
her, then towards the waterfall that fed the gloomy pool upon whose
banks her hut was placed.
"Look," she said simply.
Following the line of her outstretched hand Hadden's eyes fell upon two
withered mimosa trees which grew over the fall almost at right angles to
its rocky edge.
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