s and low
spirited of late--so different to the strong-minded creature I used to
be," she said with a rueful smile. "I am becoming quite frightened to
be left alone."

"Are you? Well, I think I can undertake to promise that you shall not
be left alone again. One of us must always make a point of being around
the house while the other is away. But look here, Eanswyth; I really
think you oughtn't to go on staying here at present. Why don't you go
down to the Colony and stay in one or other of the towns, or even at
that other farm of Tom's, until things are settled again?"

"I won't do that. And I'm really not in the least afraid for myself. I
don't believe the Kafirs would harm me."

"Then why are you nervous at being left alone?" was the very pertinent
rejoinder.

"Not on my own account. It is only that solitude gives me time to
think. I am always imagining Tom coming to frightful grief in some form
or other."

The other did not at once reply. He was balancing a knife meditatively
on the edge of his plate, his fine features a perfect mask of
impassibility. But in reality his thoughts ran black and bitter. It
was all "Tom" and "Tom." What the deuce had Tom done to deserve all
this solicitude--and how was it appreciated by its fortunate object?
Not a hair's-breadth. Then, as she rose from the table and went out on
the _stoep_ to look out for any sign of the absent one's return, Eustace
was conscious of another turn of the spear in the wound. Why had he
arrived on the scene of the fray that morning just in time to intervene?
suggested his evil angel. The delay of a few minutes, and...

"Would it do anything towards persuading you to adopt the more prudent
course and leave here for a while, if I were to tell you that Josane was
urging that very thing this morning?" said Eustace when she returned.
The said Josane was a grizzled old Kafir who held the post of
cattle-herd under the two cousins. He was a Gcaleka, and had fled from
Kreli's country some years previously, thereby narrowly escaping one of
the varied and horrible forms of death by torture habitually meted out
to those accused of his hypothetical offence--for he had been "smelt
out" by a witch-doctor. He was therefore not likely to throw in his lot
with his own countrymen against his white protectors, by whom he was
looked upon as an intelligent and thoroughly trustworthy man, which
indeed he was.

"I don't think it would," she answered with