ing cut up a couple of bundles of oat-hay--for they were
short of hands--took his way to the house.

He had warned his cousin and his warning had been scouted. He had
struggled with a temptation not to warn him, but now it came to the same
thing, and at any rate his own hands were clean. The journey to Komgha
was long, and in these times for a man so hated as Tom Carhayes, might
not be altogether safe, especially towards dusk. Well, he had been
warned.

Eustace had purposely taken time over attending to his horse. Even his
strong nerves needed a little getting in hand before he should meet
Eanswyth that morning; even his pulses beat quicker as he drew near the
house. Most men would have been eager to get it over; would have
blundered it over. Not so this one. Not without reason had the Kafirs
nicknamed him "Ixeshane"--the Deliberate.

Eanswyth rose from the table as he entered. Breakfast was over, and Tom
Carhayes, with characteristic impulsiveness, had started off upon his
journey with a rush, as we have seen. Thus once more these two were
alone together, not amid the romantic witchery of the southern night,
but in the full broad light of day.

Well, and then? Had they not similarly been together alone countless
times during the past year? Yes, but now it was different--widely
different. The ice had been broken between them.

Still, one would hardly have suspected it. Eanswyth was perfectly calm
and composed. There was a tired look upon the sweet face, and dark
circles under the beautiful eyes as if their owner had slept but little.
Otherwise both her tone and manner were free from any trace of
confusion.

"I have put your breakfast to the kitchen fire to keep warm, Eustace,"
she said. "Well, what adventures have you met with in the _veldt_ this
morning?"

"First of all, how good of you. Secondly--leaving my adventures in
abeyance for the present--did you succeed in getting any rest?"

He was looking straight at her. There was a latent caress in his
glance--in his tone.

"Not much," she answered, leaving the room for a moment in order to
fetch the hot dish above referred to. "It was a trying sort of a night
for us all, wasn't it?" she resumed as she returned. "And now Tom must
needs go rushing off again on a fool's errand."

"Never mind Tom. A little blood-letting seems good for him rather than
otherwise," said Eustace, with a dash of bitterness. "About yourself.
I don't believe you ha