arm," said the German.

The woman shook her head; she would sleep in the field.

The German reflected. Kaffer women were accustomed to sleep in the open
air; but then, the child was small, and after so hot a day the night
might be chilly. That she would creep back to the huts at the homestead
when the darkness favoured her, the German's sagacity did not make
evident to him. He took off the old brown salt-and-pepper coat, and held
it out to her. The woman received it in silence, and laid it across her
knee. "With that they will sleep warmly; not so bad. Ha, ha!" said the
German. And he rode home, nodding his head in a manner that would have
made any other man dizzy.

"I wish he would not come back tonight," said Em, her face wet with
tears.

"It will be just the same if he comes back tomorrow," said Lyndall.

The two girls sat on the step of the cabin weeping for the German's
return. Lyndall shaded her eyes with her hand from the sunset light.

"There he comes," she said, "whistling 'Ach Jerusalem du schone' so loud
I can hear him from here."

"Perhaps he has found the sheep."

"Found them!" said Lyndall. "He would whistle just so if he knew he had
to die tonight."

"You look at the sunset, eh, chickens?" the German said, as he came
up at a smart canter. "Ah, yes, that is beautiful!" he added, as he
dismounted, pausing for a moment with his hand on the saddle to look
at the evening sky, where the sun shot up long flaming streaks, between
which and the eye thin yellow clouds floated. "Ei! you weep?" said the
German, as the girls ran up to him.

Before they had time to reply the voice of Tant Sannie was heard.

"You child, of the child, of the child of a Kaffer's dog, come here!"

The German looked up. He thought the Dutchwoman, come out to cool
herself in the yard, called to some misbehaving servant. The old man
looked round to see who it might be.

"You old vagabond of a praying German, are you deaf?"

Tant Sannie stood before the steps of the kitchen; upon them sat the
lean Hottentot, upon the highest stood Bonaparte Blenkins, both hands
folded under the tails of his coat, and his eyes fixed on the sunset
sky.

The German dropped the saddle on the ground.

"Bish, bish, bish! what may this be?" he said, and walked toward the
house. "Very strange!"

The girls followed him: Em still weeping; Lyndall with her face rather
white and her eyes wide open.

"And I have the heart of a devil, did you say? You