at enough to render them quite inaudible. This man
had been among the first to level his rifle at the receding train, and
the contemptuous hatred stamped upon the countenances of the group had
in no instance been shown more plainly and uncompromisingly than upon
that of this one. But from the moment he had caught sight of these two
conversing at the other end of the platform, that sinister expression
had perceptibly deepened. At the same time he had drawn back into the
centre of his fellow-burghers, as though desirous of remaining
unobserved, while continuing to watch, and that narrowly, the object of
his rancour. The latter, serenely unconscious of being a disturbing
factor in the equanimity of anybody, went on:

"I suppose you and my--er--cousin are pretty friendly--eh, Miss
Wenlock?"

"Oh yes. We lived next door to each other down in the Colony, and so of
course we saw a good deal of each other." And then she coloured again,
remembering how readily and naturally she had addressed this man by his
supposed Christian name. What must he be thinking of her?

"I see," he answered, tranquilly. "And so you took me for him. That
isn't so very strange either."

Strange! Great Heavens! Even yet May was hardly quite sure the whole
thing was not a make-believe. Strange? Why, even this man's way of
accepting the situation, passing over all detail, taking everything for
granted, was Colvin's way.

"Now that we have made each other's acquaintance in this very unexpected
manner, Miss Wenlock, perhaps you will allow me to see you, at any rate,
a part of your way home. You might tell me a little about my relative.
Where are you staying, by the way?"

"Just this side Doornfontein. Yes. I shall be delighted, if I am not
taking you out of your way."

"Who are you, _kerel_, and have you a permit to remain here?"
interrupted, in Dutch, the peremptory voice of a Zarp.

Now "kerel"--meaning in this context "fellow"--is a pretty familiar, not
to say impudent, form of address as proceeding from a common policeman.
The tone, too, was open to objection on the same ground. But May,
glancing at her new friend, noticed that he seemed in no wise ruffled
thereby. He merely glanced at his interlocutor as though the latter had
asked him for the time.

"I have applied for a permit and am awaiting it," he answered, in the
same language. "So, my good friend, don't bother, but go and drink my
health with your mates."

The Zar