the wilderness had lost her heart to him.
Grenville was, as a matter of fact, one of those unimpressionable men
who rarely fall in love, unless moved by some mighty and overmastering
passion. All his life he had made honour and fame his mistress. The
path of glory looked none the less inviting to his intrepid soul,
because he well know that sooner or later it would, in all probability,
lead to a premature and bloody grave. He was fond of saying that he
knew no grander record in English history than that of the famous
warrior of the Elizabethan period whose name he bore, and though he was
unrelated to him he should consider it sacrilege to mar in any way a
name which would be written in the annals of England in golden letters
as long as the nation existed.

Miss Winfield, moreover, was right. Grenville had a deep-laid scheme
which was just now hatching in his fertile brain, and what this superbly
audacious project was, will presently appear. Do not, however, gentle
reader, go away with the idea that Dick Grenville, for the sake of a
little cheap glory, bought perhaps with his life-blood, was willing to
sacrifice all his friends. Far from it; his scheme meant salvation to
them, and to his Mormon foes destruction and death in their most awful
forms.

Grenville's next move was to turn Amaxosa inside out by a simple method
of cross-questioning, which was yet complete enough in its results to
satisfy even an astute detective.

One of the points he was particularly anxious about was the presence of
Game in this curious country. Grenville had now recognised almost every
known species of deer, yet had seen no destructive beasts, such as
lions; nor was there, Amaxosa assured him, a single one in the place,
nor yet an elephant, though he had once trapped and killed a rhinoceros.
Eager questions with regard to this latter animal resulted in the Zulu
going off next day and returning late in the evening with the rhinoceros
hide, which was the very thing Grenville wanted. Putting this up at
twenty yards, he fired two or three of the Mormon muskets at it, the
balls all failing to penetrate its horny thickness, and in a short time
he had contrived a regular suit of clumsy armour out of the hide--armour
which, he felt sure, would prove absolutely bullet-proof, unless hit in
the seams where he had had to shave it to a mere skin in order to unite
the edges with cord.

However, to return to the subject of the deer. Amaxosa decl