re
proud of their kinsman. They crowded the room in which he
lay, all in their best clothes, a little uneasy, as most
folks are on great occasions, and all very quiet.

"Old Andries van der Linden was free from pain, and spoke
to them all in very cheerful and impressing words. As he
lay among his pillows with his white hair thrown back and
his beard on his breast, he was a fine man to see--a picture
of a good and a brave man. He read aloud from the Bible,
and then prayed awhile, giving out his words grandly and
without a quaver. Then he shook them all by the hand and
bade each one good-bye.

"'Now, Andries,' he said, and lay back smiling.

"Klein Andries stood at the foot of the bed with his rifle
resting across the rail, but he dropped his head with a
sob.

"'I cannot,' he said, 'I cannot.'

"'Come, Andries,' said the old man again. 'Come, my son.'

"Then Klein Andries caught his breath in his throat and
steadied the rifle. The old man lay calmly, still smiling,
with fearless eyes.

"'Close your eyes,' said Andries hoarsely, and as the old
man did so he fired.

"The windows of the room were blown outwards and broken,
but the shot was a true one, and the work was well and
workmanlike done."

"It must have spoiled the sheets," observed Katje.

VASCO'S SWEETHEART

"As to that," said the Vrouw Grobelaar, answering a point
that no one had raised, "it has been seen over and over
again that sin leaves its mark. Do you not trust or avoid a
man because there is honor or wickedness in his face? Ah,
men's faces are the writing on the wall, and only the
Belshazzars cannot read them.

"But the marks go deeper than a lowering brow or a cruel
mouth. Men may die and leave behind them no monuments save
their sin. Of such a case I remember one instance.

"Before my second husband was married to his first wife he
lived out yonder, on the Portuguese border, and in the
thick of the fever country. I have not seen the place, but
it is badly spoken of for a desolate, unchancy land, bad
for cattle, and only good to hunters. My second husband was
a great hunter, and died, as you know, through having his
body crushed by a lion. The people out there are not good
Boer stock, but a wild and savage folk, with dark blood in
them.

"I only know this story from my second husband, but it took
hold of me, as he used to tell it. There was a family in
those parts of the name of Preez. No relation to the Du
Preez you know, who are