She smiled at him. "Of course, partner. We will have a castle
right at the top of the world, shall we? There will be mountain
gorges and great torrents, and ferns and rhododendrons everywhere.
And a little further still, a great lake like an inland sea with
sandy shores and very calm water with the blue sky or the stars
always in it."

"And what will the castle be like?" he said.

Sylvia's eyes were on the far hills as they rode. "The castle?"
she said. "Oh, the castle will be of grey granite--the sparkling
sort, very cool inside, with fountains playing everywhere; spacious
rooms of course, and very lofty--always lots of air and no dust."

"Shall I be allowed to smoke a pipe in them?" asked Burke.

"You will do exactly what you like all day long," she told him
generously.

"So long as I don't get in your way," he suggested.

She laughed a little. "Oh, we shall be too happy for that.
Besides, you can have a farm or two to look after. There won't be
any dry watercourses there like that," pointing with her whip.
"That is what you call a '_spruit_,' isn't it?"

"You are getting quite learned," he said. "Yes, that is a _spruit_
and that is a _kopje_."

"And that?" She pointed farther on suddenly. "What is that just
above the watercourse? Is it a Kaffir hut?"

"No," said Burke.

He spoke somewhat shortly. The object she indicated was
undoubtedly a hut; to Sylvia's unaccustomed eyes it might have been
a cattle-shed. It was close to the dry watercourse, a little
lonely hovel standing among stones and a straggling growth of
coarse grass.

Something impelled Sylvia to check her horse. She glanced at her
companion as if half-afraid. "What is it?" she said. "It--looks
like a hermit's cell. Who lives there?"

"No one at the present moment," said Burke.

His eyes were fixed straight ahead. He spoke curtly, as if against
his will.

"But who generally--" began Sylvia, and then she stopped and turned
suddenly white to the lips.

"I--see," she said, in an odd, breathless whisper.

Burke spoke without looking at her. "It's just a cabin. He built
it himself the second year he was out here. He had been living at
the farm, but he wanted to get away from me, wanted to go his own
way without interference. Perhaps I went too far in that line.
After all, it was no business of mine. But I can't stand tamely by
and see a white man deliberately degrading himself to the Kaffir
level. It was as well h