marched back peaceably, in silence,
and hand in hand. But he looked and looked at her, and at last he
stopped dead short, and said, a little arrogantly, "Come, I know YOU.
YOU are not locked up;" and he inspected her point-blank. She stood
like an antique statue, and faced the examination. "You are 'the noble
savage,'" said he, having concluded his inspection.

"Nay," said she. "I be the housemaid."

"The housemaid?"

"Iss, the housemaid, Ucatella. So come on." And she drew him along, sore
perplexed.

They met the cavalcade a mile from the halting-place, and Phoebe
apologized a little to Christopher. "I hope you'll excuse me, sir," said
she, "but I am just for all the world like a hen with her chickens; if
but one strays, I'm all in a flutter till I get him back."

"Madam," said Christopher, "I am very unhappy at the way things are
locked up. Please tell me truly, is this 'the housemaid,' or 'the noble
savage'?"

"Well, she is both, if you go to that, and the best creature ever
breathed."

"Then she IS 'the noble savage'?"

"Ay, so they call her, because she is black."

"Then, thank Heaven," said Christopher, "the past is not all locked up."

That afternoon they stopped at an inn. But Dick slept in the cart.
At three in the morning they took the road again, and creaked along
supernaturally loud under a purple firmament studded with huge stars,
all bright as moons, that lit the way quite clear, and showed black
things innumerable flitting to and fro; these made Phoebe shudder,
but were no doubt harmless; still Dick carried his double rifle, and a
revolver in his belt.

They made a fine march in the cool, until some slight mists gathered,
and then they halted and breakfasted near a silvery kloof, and watered
the cattle. While thus employed, suddenly a golden tinge seemed to
fall like a lash on the vapors of night; they scudded away directly, as
jackals before the lion; the stars paled, and with one incredible bound,
the mighty sun leaped into the horizon, and rose into the sky. In a
moment all the lesser lamps of heaven were out, though late so glorious,
and there was nothing but one vast vaulted turquoise, and a great
flaming topaz mounting with eternal ardor to its centre.

This did not escape Christopher. "What is this?" said he. "No twilight.
The tropics!" He managed to dig that word out of the past in a moment.

At ten o'clock the sun was so hot that they halted, and let the oxen
loose till sun-down