as this? Nidia's self-possession breaking down so signally? Were
his eyes and ears utterly deceiving him? There was what sounded
suspiciously like the catch of a sob in her voice, and in her eyes that
same look of appeal, of wistfulness, he had seen there when they bade
each other that last farewell in the wilds of the Matopos. His face
flushed beneath its bronze, then went white; but his voice was firm as
ever as he imprisoned her with his arms.

"To take care of you? Then I must do so for life, Nidia."

"Yes; I think you had better, as you know how to do it so well," she
replied, raising her lips.

It was their first kiss; but it was even as the welding of two souls.
It was their first kiss, but for a very brief space the only one. With
no further necessity for self-containment, John Ames seemed to pour
forth his whole soul, his whole nature, in adoration of this girl, the
first sight of whom had turned the whole current of his thoughts and
inner life. All of this Nidia learned, and was infinitely, radiantly
happy.

"Shall I tell you something--darling?" she said. "Strange as it may
sound, I have never loved anybody before--have never felt the slightest
inclination to. But when I saw you, I knew the possibility was there.
You were--are--so different to everybody else. I missed you so
frightfully when you left to come up here. There, I never told you that
before. And all the time we were out together in the mountains I loved
being with you--felt so safe with you, somehow, and--Oh!"

The last ejaculation was evoked by the appearance of a third party on
the scene. In the doorway stood Mrs Bateman, speechless, her
high-featured countenance livid with amazement, rage, and baffled spite.

"Come here, Susie, and say, `Bless you, my children,'" called out Nidia,
a lovely blush coming over her face, as she realised the very near
propinquity in which she stood to the other occupant of the room, who,
for his part, said nothing.

But there came no answer. The other turned and walked away in silence.
She had thrown her king and her ace, but the odd trick remained, and
this John Ames held.

Shiminya, the sorcerer, was seated in his _muti_ kraal on the Umgwane
river, but he was not alone. With him sat Nanzicele, ex-sergeant of the
native police.

From the tone of their voices they seemed not on very good terms. Not
to put too fine a point upon it, they were quarrelling.

Now, the cause of the difference l