"
"Thank you, but I prefer the savages, as you seem to have done until now.
No, do not try to touch me; you know that I can defend myself if I
choose," and she glanced at the pistol which she always carried in that
wild land, "I am not afraid of you, Mr. Ishmael; it is you who are afraid
of me."
"Perhaps I am," he exclaimed, "because those Zulus are right, you are
_tagati_, an enchantress, not like other women, white or black. If it were
not so, would you have driven me mad as you have done? I tell you I can't
sleep for thinking of you. Oh! Rachel, Rachel, don't be angry with me.
Have pity on me. Give me some hope. I know that my life has been rough in
the past, but I will become good again for your sake and live like a
Christian. But if you refuse me, if you send me back to hell--then you
shall learn what I can be."
"I know what you are, Mr. Ishmael, and that is quite enough. I do not wish
to be unkind, or to say anything that will pain you, but please go away,
and never try to speak to me again like this, as it is quite useless. You
must understand that I will never marry you, never."
"Are you in love with somebody else?" he asked hoarsely, and at the
question, do what she would to prevent it, Rachel coloured a little.
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