ad climbed down into the water again Koos laid
the girl down. She was still white; her senses had fled.
Presently as he was binding his leg he heard the father
say--

"'Now raise him a little, and I will shoot again to make
sure'; and immediately the sound of shot burst out. At this
the girl opened her eyes, and Koos, looking at her, saw
with astonishment that she smiled.

"'Have you killed him, Koos?' she asked very gently.

"'Be quiet,' answered Koos.

"'But tell me,' she persisted.

"'Yes.' he replied at length.

"She closed her eyes and sighed. 'That was cruel,' she
said; 'I loved him so.'

"But she sat up again as the old father and the lad dragged
the body out of the water.

"'Four wounds,' panted the old man. 'Not one of us missed.
That was very good, considering the darkness.' And as he
flung the bleeding corpse down he turned upon Christina.

"'Here,' he cried, calling her by a dreadful word of shame.
'Here is your husband.'

"'Father,' said young Hendrik, 'there is money in his
pockets. If I take it people will say this was done by
Kafirs.'

"'Take it then,' said the old man, and when the boy had
emptied the pockets he bade him throw the money into the
stream.

"Then they mounted and rode away, but not homewards. They
rode across the stream to cross it twenty miles down, that
their spoor should not betray them.

"And as Koos told me, while his eyes glazed, he turned and
looked back, and there he saw Christina with the
Englishman's head on her lap, looking after them with a
face that set him trembling."

As the old lady concluded I passed an arm round Katje.

A GOOD END

One of the most awe-inspiring traits of the Vrouw Grobelaar
was her familiarity with the subject of death. She had a
discriminating taste in corpses, and remembered of several
old friends only the figure they cut when the life was gone
from them. She was as opinionative in this regard as in all
others; she had her likes and dislikes, and it is my firm
belief to this day that she never rose to such heights of
conversational greatness as when attending a death-bed. It
is on record that more than one invalid was relieved of all
desire to live after being prepared for dissolution by the
Vrouw Grobelaar.

On the evening following the burial of Katrina Potgieter's
baby, which died of drinking water after a surfeit of dried
peaches, the old lady was in great feather. Never were her
reminiscences so ghoulish and terrifyin