n the kitchen fire."

The German made the proposal, but the widower waved his hand.

"No, nothing shall pass my lips. I should be suffocated. No, no! Speak
not of food to me!"

"Pap, and a little brandy in," said Tant Sannie coaxingly.

Bonaparte caught the word.

"Perhaps, perhaps--if I struggled with myself--for the sake of my duties
I might imbibe a few drops," he said, looking with quivering lip up into
the German's face. "I must do my duty, must I not?"

Tant Sannie gave the order, and the girl went for the pap.

"I know how it was when my first husband died. They could do nothing
with me," the Boer-woman said, "till I had eaten a sheep's trotter, and
honey, and a little roaster-cake. I know."

Bonaparte sat up on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him,
and a hand on each knee, blubbering softly.

"Oh, she was a woman! You are very kind to try and comfort me, but she
was my wife. For a woman that is my wife I could live; for the woman
that is my wife I could die! For a woman that is my wife I could--Ah!
that sweet word 'wife'; when will it rest upon my lips again?"

When his feelings had subsided a little he raised the corners of his
turned-down mouth, and spoke to the German with flabby lips.

"Do you think she understands me? Oh, tell her every word, that she may
know I thank her."

At that instant the girl reappeared with a basin of steaming gruel and a
black bottle.

Tant Sannie poured some of its contents into the basin, stirred it well,
and came to the bed.

"Oh, I can't, I can't! I shall die! I shall die!" said Bonaparte,
putting his hands to his side.

"Come, just a little," said Tant Sannie coaxingly; "just a drop."

"It's too thick, it's too thick. I should choke."

Tant Sannie added from the contents of the bottle and held out a
spoonful; Bonaparte opened his mouth like a little bird waiting for a
worm, and held it open, as she dipped again and again into the pap.

"Ah, this will do your heart good," said Tant Sannie, in whose mind the
relative functions of heart and stomach were exceedingly ill-defined.

When the basin was emptied the violence of his grief was much assuaged;
he looked at Tant Sannie with gentle tears.

"Tell him," said the Boer-woman, "that I hope he will sleep well, and
that the Lord will comfort him, as the Lord only can."

"Bless you, dear friend, God bless you," said Bonaparte.

When the door was safely shut on the German, the Hottentot, and th