ure, when the time comes, for which reason
Mandevu has been constantly near him so that I could find him at any
time, therefore he must go free."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verna, seated there, alone, in stony-eyed misery, was wondering if it
were not all a hideous nightmare. "I have bought his life. I have
bought his life," she kept moaning to herself.

"Rise up, child of U' Ben," said a voice, whose owner she had not heard
approach. "The word of the chief is that thou and the white man are to
go home together, now at once."

"Do not mock me, Mandevu," she answered stonily.

"Mock? _Au_! See. There he comes," pointing with his stick.

Verna raised her eyes. From the direction where she had last beheld him
Alaric Denham was approaching--alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

VOLCANIC.

"I hope the brute won't turn obstreperous, Vidler," said the magistrate
of Esifeni to the clerk of the court, as the two met on the verandah.
"'Pon my soul it isn't fair to stick us in such a position. Here we
are, with three or four police, stuck away in the thick of a perfect
hotbed of rebellion, and expected to keep it in order."

The other shrugged, but said nothing. He was fully alive to the
difficulties of their position. The "brute" referred to was no less a
personage than Sapazani, who was expected that morning to answer to a
summons with regard to certain matters, specially ordered by the Chief
Commissioner.

"This country's being run on the wrong tack altogether," went on the
magistrate. "Here's a tinpot township with three or four stores, as
many more tin houses, and a Methodist chapel, and the Residency. Sounds
big, don't it, Vidler? especially when there's wind enough to blow out
the Union Jack we delight to fly from the pole in the garden. And all
the force we've got to back it up is four police. Why, we're only here
on sufferance. It isn't fair that a man with a wife and family should
be forced to live at the mercy of that ruffian Sapazani."

The magistrate of Esifeni was not a timid man, but the monotony of life
at his remote post rather tended to make him "nervy." Of late,
moreover, he had seen and heard enough to make him anxious, and the
largest thorn in his side was named Sapazani.

Between himself and the chief there existed a latent hostility which,
never failed to peep out more or less whenever they met. Of late they
had met rather more ofte