ll tell you, then,' she cried. 'No,' he repeated.
'Let it be.'

"So together they sat for a further while, and the time
grew on for going. She was to die with the sun; she had
said it. And as they sat both could see through the window
the sun floating lower, with an edge in its grave already,
and the rim of the earth black against it. The noises of
the veld and the farm came in to them, and they drew closer
together.

"Neither wept; they were too newly met for that. But
Stoffel felt a dull pain of sorrow overmastering him, and
soon he groaned aloud.

"'My wife, my wife,' he cried.

"She rested wholly on his arm, and shivered a little.

"'Stoffel,' she said in a voice that henceforth was to
whisper forever, 'Stoffel, you love me?'

"'As God sees me,' he answered. "'Listen,' she said, and
fought with the tide that was fast drowning her words.
'That face--you--saw . . . was . . . mine!'

"She smiled as his arm tightened on her, and died so
smiling."

There was silence in the shadowy room as the tale finished,
until it was broken by the Vrouw Grobelaar.

"You see?" she said.

"Yes," replied Katje, very quietly.

THE AVENGER OF BLOOD

The Vrouw Grobelaar entered in haste, closed the door, and
sat down panting.

"If my last husband were alive," she said--"if any of them
were alive, that creature would be shot for looking at an
honest woman with such eyes," and she cast an anxious
glance over her shoulder.

"What is it?" demanded Katje.

"That old Hottentot hag." responded the old lady. "She
looks like a witch, and I am sure she is a witch. I would
make the Kafirs throw her on to the veld, but you can't be
too careful with witches. Why, as I came in just now, she
was squatting by the door like a big toad, and her eyes
made me go cold all through."

Katje made a remark.

"What! You say nonsense!" The old lady pricked herself into
an ominous majesty. "Nonsense, indeed! Katje, beware of
pride. Beware of puffing yourself up. Aren't there witches
in the Bible, and weren't they horrible and wicked? Didn't
King David see the dead corpses come up out of the ground
when the witch crooked her finger, like dogs running to
heel? Well, then!

"Oh, I know," continued the old lady, as Katje tossed a
mutinous head. "They've taught you a lot in that school,
but they didn't teach you belief. Nor manners. You're going
to say there are no witches nowadays."

"I'm not," said Katje.

"Yes, you are," pursued the