When the meat was cleared away I bade Suzanne go to bed, which she did most unwillingly, for knowing the errand of these men she wished to hear our talk. As soon as she was gone I took a seat so that the light of the candles left my face in shadow and fell full on those of the three men--a wise thing to do if one is wicked enough to intend to tell lies about any matter--and said: "Now, here I am at your service; be pleased to set out the business that you have in hand."
Then they began, the lawyer, speaking through the interpreter, asking, "Are you the Vrouw Botmar?"
"That is my name."
"Where is your husband, Jan Botmar?"
"Somewhere on the veldt; I do not know where."
"Will he be back to-morrow?"
"No."
"When will he be back?"
"Perhaps in two months, perhaps in three, I cannot tell."
At this they consulted together, and then went on: "Have you living with you a young Englishman named Ralph Mackenzie?"
"One named Ralph Kenzie lives with us."
"Where is he?"
"With my husband on the veldt. I do not know where."
"Can you find him?"
"No, the veldt is very wide. If you wish to see him you must wait till he comes back."
"When will that be?"
"I am not his nurse and cannot tell; perhaps in three months, perhaps six."
Now again they consulted, and once more went on: "Was the boy, Ralph Mackenzie, or Kenzie, shipwrecked in the India in the year 1824?"