igion, though his views upon
the subject were broad enough to have earned the thorough disapproval of
the professors of more dogmatic creeds. As we have already hinted, his
motive in sending for the _predikant_ was primarily one of policy,
partly in order to gain time, partly to placate those in whose hands he
was. Yet now that Mynheer had come he was not sorry, in that he had
someone to talk to, and, as we have said, his loneliness had been
getting terribly upon his nerves. So he listened while _the predikant_
read some Scripture and said a few prayers, and when the latter asked
him if he forgave those at whose door lay his death, he answered that he
had no feeling against them; that if they were doing him to death
unjustly--well, he supposed he had done things to other people some time
or other in his life, which they didn't like, and this might go as a
set-off against such. Adrian De la Rey was the hardest nut to crack,
but, on the other hand, he had a grievance which he, Colvin, ought to be
the first person to make allowances for. No--he didn't think he wanted
Adrian to come to grief, although he had said so that morning. It
didn't matter to himself anyhow.

Then he wrote some final letters relating to his worldly affairs, the
_predikant_ having obtained for him, at some difficulty, the requisite
materials. He left a few lines for Stephanus De la Rey, and more than a
few for Aletta. Even then of the girl's presence in the camp Mynheer
Albertyn did not inform him, and the reason lay in Aletta's own wish.
She had decided not to see him. She had saved him--as she thought--and
it were better not to see him. It was part of the bargain with Adrian,
likewise it would bring back all too forcibly the last time she had seen
him.

"Well, Mynheer," said Colvin at length, "now we have put all that
straight we can chat for a little. It seems rather selfish keeping you
up all night like this, and it was very good of you to come. You won't
regret it either. But you don't have to sit up every night with a poor
devil who's going to be shot at sunrise anyhow."

This cheerful calmness under the circumstances was clean outside the
_predikant's_ experience. He felt as though he must be dreaming. It
was unreal. Here was a man whose life had reached the limits of a few
hours, who was to be led forth to die in cold blood, in the full glow of
his health and strength, yet chatting away as unconcernedly as if he
were at home