window, and played upon the opposite wall, which glowed in
orange and gold.

But Dyke did not see the refulgent hues with which the shabby white-wash
and prints were painted, for he was watching his brother's face, all so
terribly changed since their last parting. The eyes were sunken, and
hollows showed about the temples and cheeks. There was a terrible dry
blackness, too, about the skin; while the hands that lay upon the bed
were thin and full of starting tendons, all tokens of the fever which
had laid the strong man low.

But he was sleeping, and sleep at such a time meant life; while the
head, bared now by the rough shearing Dyke had given the previous
evening, was hot, but not burning with that terrible fire which scorches
out the very life where it has commenced to glow.

"Baas Joe dead?" said a voice at the door, and Dyke started to his feet
to seize a short, heavy whip; but Kaffir Jack did not stop to see it
seized. He turned and fled, while a low muttering growl roused the boy
to the fact that the dog had been there in the corner all the night, and
now came forward to thrust a cool nose into his master's hand.

"Why, Duke, old chap, I'd forgotten you," said Dyke softly. The dog
gave his tail a series of rapid wags, and then came to the bedside,
looked at the sick man, whined softly, and then sat and rested his
muzzle upon one of the feeble hands, watching the face intently, and as
if meaning to keep guard there.

Dyke followed, and laid his hand on the dog's head; but the faithful
animal did not stir.

"No, Duke, old man, Baas Joe is not dead yet," whispered Dyke, as he
gazed at his brother's face; "and, please God, we're going to bring him
safely back to what he was."

Duke did not move his head; but he raised his tail once, and brought it
down upon the floor with a heavy--_whop_!

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A SORE STRAIT.

"Stop and watch," said Dyke; and leaving the dog in charge, he went out
into the glorious light of day, feeling strong now, but horribly weak.

A contradiction, but a fact, for though he had drunk of the cool fresh
water several times, he had taken nothing since the previous morning,
and if he had to nurse Emson back to life, he knew that he must gather
force by means of food.

He had to carry on the work of the place still, he felt, as his brother
was helpless; and as he walked round to the back of the premises, he
began to feel something like wonder at the terrible despair fr