h it
swallows." Then with a word of farewell greeting he withdrew, but in
the opposite direction to that by which they had ascended.

"Hadn't we better go down?" said Thornhill. "It'll be dark directly."

"And it's shivery now," said Edala, looking round with a shudder. "Come
along."

By the time they were off the moss-grown natural stairway it was nearly
dark. The horses, hitched to a bush by the bridles, shook themselves
and whinnied at their approach.

"What would be the effect of your `aerial throne' by starlight, Miss
Thornhill?" said Elvesdon, as they passed beneath the mighty cliff,
whose loom cut straight and black against the myriad stars which came
gushing out into the velvety vault.

"I've never tried it. I believe I'd be afraid. You know--the Kafirs
say the Sipazi mountain is haunted, that all sorts of _tagati_ sounds
float off from the top of it at night."

"You afraid? Why I don't believe there's anything in the world that
could scare _you_, after what I've seen."

"Oh isn't there? I'm rather afraid of lightning, for one thing."

"Are you?"

"Yes. You see, it's a thing that no precaution on earth will guard you
against. You can stick up conductors on a house, or any sort of
building, but you can't stick one on your hat, when you're out in the
open. I always feel so utterly helpless."

"Well, of course it's risky. But you must remember the very small
proportion of people who get hit compared with the numbers who spend a
large slice of their lives exposed to it."

"So I do, but somehow it seems poor consolation when everything is
fizzing and banging all round you and you expect every second to be
knocked to kingdom come. No. I don't like it a bit--in the open that
is. Under cover, though it's even a Kafir hut, I don't mind."

"You wouldn't like to be seated on the `aerial throne' then, eh?"
laughed Elvesdon.

"No, indeed. Look. There's a fine shooting star."

A streak like a falling rocket, and the phenomenon disappeared.
Elvesdon gratefully admitted to himself that this homeward ride through
the soft dews of falling night was wholly delightful. Yes, but--would
it have been equally so were he alone, or with any other companion at
his side--his host for instance; who had lingered behind to light a
pipe, and had not taken the trouble to catch them up again? He was
constrained to own to himself that it would not. This girl was of a
type wholly outside his experience, so nat