"
"Oh! don't trouble about me," interrupted that young lady, with a shrug of
her shoulders. "I can take my chance as I have often done before--to-day,
for instance."
"But I do trouble about you, my dear, although it is true I don't believe
that you will be killed; you know I have always said so. Still I do
trouble, and John--John," she added in a kind of pitiful cry, "can't you
see that you have worn me out? Can't you understand that I am getting old
and weak? Is there nobody to whom you have a duty as well as to the
heathen? Are there not enough heathen here?" she went on with gathering
passion. "If you must mix with them, do what this gentleman says, and stop
here, that is, if you won't go back. Build a house and let us have a
little peace before we die, for death will come soon enough, and terribly
enough, I am sure," and she burst into a fit of weeping.
"My dear," said Mr. Dove, "you are upset; the unhappy occurrences of
to-day, which--did we but know it--are doubtless all for the best, and
your anxiety for Rachel have been too much for you. I think that you had
better go to bed, and you too, Rachel. I will talk the matter over further
with Mr. Ishmael, who, perhaps, has been sent to guide me. I am not
unreasonable, as you think, and if he can convince me that there is any
risk to your lives--for my own I care nothing--I will consider the
suggestion of building a mission-station outside Zululand, at any rate for
a few years.
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