"Not so, O Macumazana," she said, with a proud little laugh. "When your
Watcher sowed my seed--if thus he did--he sowed the dreams that are
a part of me also, and I shall only bring him back his own, with the
flower and the fruit by way of interest. But that is finished. You
refuse the greatness. Now, tell me, if I sink those dreams in a great
water, tying about them the stone of forgetfulness and saying: 'Sleep
there, O dreams; it is not your hour'--if I do this, and stand before
you just a woman who loves and who swears by the spirits of her fathers
never to think or do that which has not your blessing--will you love me
a little, Macumazahn?"
Now I was silent, for she had driven me to the last ditch, and I knew
not what to say. Moreover, I will confess my weakness--I was strangely
moved. This beautiful girl with the "fire in her heart," this woman who
was different from all other women that I had ever known, seemed to have
twisted her slender fingers into my heart-strings and to be drawing
me towards her. It was a great temptation, and I bethought me of old
Zikali's saying in the Black Kloof, and seemed to hear his giant laugh.
She glided up to me, she threw her arms about me and kissed me on the
lips, and I think I kissed her back, but really I am not sure what I
did or said, for my head swam. When it cleared again she was standing in
front of me, looking at me reflectively.
"Now, Macumazahn," she said, with a little smile that both mocked and
dazzled, "the poor black girl has you, the wise, experienced white man,
in her net, and I will show you that she can be generous. Do you think
that I do not read your heart, that I do not know that you believe I
am dragging you down to shame and ruin? Well, I spare you, Macumazahn,
since you have kissed me and spoken words which already you may have
forgotten, but which I do not forget. Go your road, Macumazahn, and I
go mine, since the proud white man shall not be stained with my black
touch. Go your road; but one thing I forbid you--to believe that you
have been listening to lies, and that I have merely played off a woman's
arts upon you for my own ends. I love you, Macumazahn, as you will never
be loved till you die, and I shall never love any other man, however
many I may marry. Moreover, you shall promise me one thing--that once in
my life, and once only, if I wish it, you shall kiss me again before all
men. And now, lest you should be moved to folly and forget your white
man's pride, I bid you farewell, O Macumazana. When we meet again it
will be as friends only."