annot remember now who it was--had been to
the town to a law-case to be cheated of some land, and he
brought back news of Emmanuel--news that he was deadly ill
in a mean place, and lacking money. He told it shortly to
the Vrouw van der Westhuizen, and she sent at once for
Barend and Peter.

"'Get to your horses,' she told them, 'and bring my
kleintje back to me. Be quick to bring him--why do you stand
gaping like sick cows while he is dying? And take money.
Take all the money that is in my box under the bed, in case
he should need something. Get the box out quickly, now!'

"They obeyed her. In the box was the money of the house, as
the Boers need to keep it, a great deal of money in
sovereigns, very heavy to carry. But she would not even
suffer them to count it, so they filled a bag with it, and
Barend tied it to his belt, and then they caught the horses
and started on the long trek to the town.

"It is a journey of fifteen days by wagon, yet those two,
by killing horses--they who used all beasts so gently--did it
in three, and on the fourth, much troubled by the great
throng of people all about them, came to a narrow street,
smelling of poor food, and found the house in which
Emmanuel lay. A woman with a cruel face and naked breasts
opened to them, staring at their great size and their
beards, and showed them up a long stair to a room with a
bed, from which Emmanuel looked up at them.

"It was a small room, tucked close under the roof, and held
but the tumbled frowsy bed, an uneasy table and a chair. On
the floor, clothes and boots lay heaped with old
newspapers, and the place was hot with stale air. From the
pillows, the face of Emmanuel met them with something of
expectancy; and the two big men, fresh from the wind of the
veld, saw with a quick dismay how his pale skin stood tight
over the bones of him, and a clear pink burned like a
danger lamp high up on each cheek.

"'I thought you would come,' said the sick man in a weak
voice, 'I knew it. I was sure I should not die alone in
this hole, while my mother's horses were sound. It is bad
enough to die at all, but no man deserves to die away from
home.'

"Peter kneeled down beside the bed and would have passed an
arm under his shoulder. But he would not have it.

"'No need to slobber,' he said, with a note of contempt in
the voice that rang so faintly. The woman, who was leaning
in the door, laughed harshly, and a passing smile flickered
over Emmanuel's