She turned quickly, too paralysed with fear to cry out, and a voice that was familiar to her whispered into her ear, "Missie Jess, Missie Jess, is it you?
I am Jantje." She gave a sigh of relief, and her heart, which had stood still, began to move again.

Here was a friend at last.
"I heard you coming down the hill, though you came so softly," he said; "but I could not tell who it was, because you jumped from rock to rock and did not walk as usual.

But I thought it was a woman with boots; I could not see, because the light all falls dead against the hill, and the stars are not up.

So I got to the left of your path--for the wind is blowing from the right--and waited till you had passed and _winded_ you.
Then I knew who you were for certain--either you or Missie Bessie; but Missie Bessie is shut up, so it could not be her." "Bessie shut up!" ejaculated Jess, not even pausing to marvel at the dog-like instinct that had enabled the Hottentot to identify her.

"What do you mean ?" "This way, missie, come this way, and I will tell you;" and he led her to a fantastic pile of rocks in which it was his wild habit to sleep.
Jess knew the place well, and had often peeped into, but never entered, the Hottentot's kennel.
"Stop a bit, missie.