The only people from whom she could hope for aid would be the natives, and now that the Boers had triumphed over the English--for this much she had gathered from her captors and from Jantje--it was very doubtful if the Kafirs would dare to assist her.

Besides, at the best it would take twenty-four hours to collect a force, and by then help would come too late.

The situation was hopeless.
Nowhere could she see a ray of light.
"What," Jess said aloud to herself--"what is there in the world that will stop a man like Frank Muller ?" And then of an instant the answer rose up in her brain as though by inspiration-- "_Death!_" Death, and death alone, would stay him.

For a minute she held the idea in her mind till she grew familiar with it, then it was driven out by another thought that followed swiftly on its track.

Frank Muller must die, and die before the morning light.