the descendants of Dingaan's royal cattle that Swart Piet stole to
bring destruction upon the Umpondwana. By her side was her husband, old
Jan Botmar, whom she caused to be carried to the waggon and tied in it
in his chair. He, poor old man, knew nothing of what was passing, but
from some words he let fall we gathered that he believed that he was
once more starting on the great trek from the Transkei. My Ralph,
he thought, was his adopted child, perhaps because of some inherited
similarity of voice, for he called him "son," but my own presence
puzzled him, for he said once or twice, "So Suzanne has escaped from
that hell-hound, Swart Piet. Have you killed the dog, Ralph? Ralph, have
you killed the dog?"

Thus we went to the little church where the chaplain of the regiment
was to wed us, the pipers going first, playing a wild marriage march on
their bagpipes. Next came Ralph and I walking side by side, and after us
the waggon with my great-grandparents, while the rear was brought up
by a guard of honour formed of every available soldier in the company.
Outside the open door of the church the waggon was halted, and from
it the Vrouw Botmar witnessed the ceremony, causing the register to be
brought to her to sign. This she did, resting the book upon the head of
the Kaffir driver, down whose back she managed to upset the ink.

"Never mind," she said, not the least disturbed, "it cannot make the
poor creature any blacker than he is."

"Oh! how can I leave you, grandmother?" I said to her afterwards.

"Child," she answered, with a stern face, "in my youth, to keep one I
loved near me, I committed a great sin. Now by way of penance I part
from one I love; yes, being yet alive I say farewell for ever to the
last of my race. Thus in our age do we pay for the sins of youth. Go,
and God with you."

So I placed my hand in that of my husband and went. When we reached this
country it was proved that the rank and estates were mine by law, for
the evidence of my descent was too strong to be disputed. I did not wish
to take either, but Ralph insisted on it and I was overruled. Indeed,
had I not done so, it seems that confusion and endless law-suits might
have resulted in the future, perhaps after I am dead.

Six months afterwards, in this castle of Glenthirsk, I received a
letter, at the foot of which was faintly scrawled the signature of
Suzanne Botmar. It was short and ran thus:

"Grand-daughter Suzanne,

"Last night y