sun, his own
particular enemy.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

OVERHEARD.

"And I say it's a judgment on him. He killed that poor wife of his and
now the Kafirs have killed."

"But it never was proved against him."

"No, it weren't, but everyone knows it. He couldn't prove he never did
it, now could he? Tell me that."

This essentially feminine line of argument proceeded, needless to say,
from one of that sex, which was also the sex of the other party to the
conversation. The latter was taking place a few yards from Elvesdon's
house, a day or two after the successful defence of the laager. The
speakers were stock-raisers' wives, of the unrefined and little-educated
class.

"Well if he couldn't prove he never did it they couldn't prove he did,
so he ought to have--what do they call it--the benefit of the doubt,"
came the rejoinder, though not in any tone of real conviction.

"Benefit of the fiddlestick. Why it was like looking for a needle in a
haystack trying to find her poor body among all those krantzes and holes
and caves. But it's there, you may take your oath to that. The Bible
says those that take the sword shall perish by the sword, don't it?
Well here's a case of it. Oh he's a deep old fox and a wrong bad 'un is
old Thornhill, and now he's--"

But what he was or where--was not destined to be supplied. From the
open window Edala's voice rang out clear.

"Ladies--if it amuses you to wickedly slander my father, who may not be
alive at this moment, don't you think it would show better feeling to go
and do so out of my hearing."

The tones were cutting like a whip-lash. The girl's face was deathly
white, with a burning red spot in either cheek, and her blue eyes fairly
blazed. The two women started as if they had been shot: then gasped as
if they were going to say something, but couldn't--then moved quickly
away without a word; which perhaps, under the circumstances was the best
course they could have adopted.

Edala turned back into the room. Evelyn's face was as ghastly as her
own. For a moment the two stood looking at each other, then Edala flung
herself into a chair, dropped her arms upon the table and buried her
face in her hands. The great sobs that shook her frame seemed as if
they would tear it in pieces.

"Darling, don't give way like this," adjured Evelyn with an arm round
the bowed shoulders, and brushing away the fast dropping tears from her
own eyes. "Those wicked slanderous brut