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But those magnates were the last men in the world to side with, or to help him. Some were excessively civil, others indifferent, but all disclaimed any responsibility in the matter.

Bearing these facts in mind there was, we repeat, every excuse for Eanswythā€™s anxiety. But suddenly a sigh of relief escaped her. The tramp of hoofs reaching her ears caused her to turn, and there, approaching the house from a wholly unexpected direction, came the two familiar mounted figures.

Chapter Four. ā€œLove Settling Unawares.ā€

ā€œWell, old girl, and how have you been getting through the day,ā€ was Carhayesā€™ unceremonious greeting as he slid from his horse. Eustace turned away his head, and the faintest shadow of contempt flitted across his impassive countenance. Had this glorious creature stood in the same relationship towards himself he could no more have dreamed of addressing her as ā€œold girlā€ than he could have of carving his name across the front of the silver altar which is exhibited once a year in the ā€œBattisteroā€ at Florence.

ā€œPretty well, Tom,ā€ she answered smilingly. ā€œAnd you? I hope you havenā€™t been getting into any more mischief. Has he, Eustace.ā€

ā€œWell, I have, then,ā€ rejoined Carhayes, grimly, for Eustace pretended not to hear. ā€œWhat youā€™d call mischief, I suppose. Now what dā€™you think? I caught that schelm GonĆ­we having a buck-huntā€”a buck-hunt, by Jove! right under my very nose; he and three other niggers. Theyā€™d got two dogs, good dogs too, and I couldnā€™t help admiring the way the schepsels put them on by relays, nor yet the fine shot they made at the buck with a kerrie. Well, I rode up and told them to clear out of the light because I intended to shoot their dogs. Would you believe it? they didnā€™t budge. Actually squared up to me.ā€

ā€œI hope you didnā€™t shoot their dogs,ā€ said Eanswyth anxiously.

ā€œDidnā€™t I! one of ā€™em, that is. Do you think Iā€™m the man to be bounced by Jack Kafir? Not much Iā€™m not. I was bound to let daylight through the brute, and I did.ā€

ā€œThrough the Kafir?ā€ cried Eanswyth, in horror, turning pale.

ā€œThrough both,ā€ answered Carhayes, with a roar of laughter. ā€œThrough both, by Jove! Ask Eustace. He came up just in time to be in at the death. But, donā€™t get scared, old girl. I only ā€˜barkedā€™ the nigger, and sent the dog to hunt bucks in some other world. I had to do it. Those chaps were four to one, you see, and shied Icerries at me. They had assegais, too.ā€

ā€œOh, I donā€™t know what will happen to us one of these days!ā€ she cried, in real distress. ā€œAs it is, I am uneasy every time you are out in the veldt.ā€

ā€œYou neednā€™t beā€”no fear. Those chaps know me better than to attempt any tricks. Theyā€™re all barkā€”but when it comes to biting they funk off. That schelm I plugged to-day threatened no end of things; said Iā€™d better have cut off my right hand first, because it was better to lose oneā€™s hand than oneā€™s mindā€”or some such bosh. But do you think I attach any importance to that? I laughed in the fellowā€™s face and told him the next time he fell foul of me heā€™d likely enough lose his lifeā€”and that would be worse still for him.ā€

Eustace, listening to these remarks, frowned slightly. The selfish coarseness of his cousin in thus revealing the whole unfortunate episode, with the sure result of doubling this delicate womanā€™s anxiety whenever she should be leftā€”as she so often wasā€”alone, revolted him. Had he been Carhayes he would have kept his own counsel in the matter.

ā€œBy the way, Tom,ā€ said Eanswyth, ā€œGonĆ­we hasnā€™t brought in his sheep yet, and itā€™s nearly dark.ā€

ā€œNot, eh?ā€ was the almost shouted reply, accompanied by a vehement and undisguised expletive at the expense of the defaulter. ā€œHeā€™s playing Harryā€”not a doubt about it. Iā€™ll make an example of him this time. Rather! Hold on. Whereā€™s my thickest sjambok?ā€

(Sjambok: A whip, made out of a single piece of rhinoceros, or sea-cow hide, tapering at the point. It is generally in the shape of a riding-whip.)

He dived into the house, and, deaf to his wifeā€™s entreaties and expostulations, armed himself with the formidable rawhide whip in addition to his gun, and flinging the bridle once more across the horseā€™s neck, sprang into the saddle.

ā€œComing, Eustace?ā€ he cried.

ā€œNo. I think not. The sheep canā€™t be far off, and you can easily bring them in, even if, as is not unlikely, GonĆ­we has sloped. Besides, I donā€™t think we ought to leave Eanswyth all alone.ā€

With a spluttered exclamation of impatience, Carhayes clapped spurs to his horse and cantered away down the kloof to recover his sheep and execute summary vengeance upon their defective herd.

ā€œDo go after him, Eustace. Donā€™t think about me. I donā€™t in the least mind being left alone. Do go. You are the only one who can act as a check upon him, and I fear he will get himselfā€”all of usā€”into some terrible scrape. I almost hope GonĆ­we has run away, for if Tom comes across him in his present humour he will half kill the boy.ā€

ā€œHe wonā€™t come across him. On that point you may set your mind quite at ease. He will have no opportunity of getting into hot water, and I certainly shanā€™t think of leaving you alone here to-night for the sake of salvaging a few sheep more or less. We must make up our minds to lose some, Iā€™m afraid, but the bulk of them will be all right.ā€

ā€œStill, I wish youā€™d go,ā€ she pursued anxiously. ā€œWhat if Tom should meet with any Kafirs in the veldt and quarrel with them, as he is sure to do?ā€

ā€œHe wonā€™t meet any. There isnā€™t a chance of it. Look here, Eanswyth; Tom must take care of himself for once. Iā€™m not going to leave you alone here now for the sake of fifty Toms.ā€

ā€œWhy! Have you heard anything fresh?ā€ she queried anxiously, detecting a veiled significance in his words.

ā€œCertainly not. Nothing at all. Havenā€™t been near Komgha for ten days, and havenā€™t seen anyone since. Now, Iā€™ll just take my horse round to the stable and give him a feedā€”and be with you in a minute.ā€

As a matter of fact, there was an arriĆØre-pensĆ©e underlying his words. For Eustace had been pondering over Hlanganiā€™s strangely worded threat. And it was a strangely worded one. ā€œYou had better have cut off your right hand... for it is better to lose a hand than oneā€™s mind.ā€ Carhayes had dismissed it contemptuously from his thoughts, but Eustace Milne, keen-witted, imaginative, had set to work to puzzle it out. Did the GcalĆ©ka chief meditate some more subtle and hellish form of vengeance than the ordinary and commonplace one of mere blood for blood, and, if so, how did he purpose to carry it out? By striking at Carhayes through the one who was dearest to him? Surely. The words seemed to bear just this interpretationā€”and at the bare contemplation of a frightful danger hanging over Eanswyth, cool, even-minded Eustace Milne, felt the blood flow back to his heart. For he loved her.

Yes, he loved her. This keen-witted, philosophical man of the world was madly in love with the beautiful wife of his middle-aged cousin. He loved her with all the raging abandonment of a strong nature that does nothing by halves; yet during nearly a year spent beneath the same roofā€”nearly a year of easy, pleasant, social intercourseā€”never by word or sign had he betrayed his secretā€”at least, so he imagined.

But that no such blow should fall while he was alive, he resolved at all hazards. Why had he come there at all, was a question he had been asking himself for some time past? Why had he stayed, why did he stay? For the latter he hated and despised himself on account of his miserable weakness. But now it seemed that both were answeredā€”that he had been brought there for a purposeā€”to protect her from the fearful consequences entailed by the blundering ferocity of him who should have been her first protectorā€”to save her from some impending and terrible fate. Surely this was sufficient answer.

Then a wild thrill set his pulses tinglingā€”a thrill of joy, of fierce expectation set on foot by a single thought, the intense expectation of the gambler who sees fortune brought within his reach by the potential turn of chances already strong in his favour. They were on the eve of war. What might the chances of war not entail? Blind, blundering Tom Carhayes running his head, like a bull, at every stone wallā€”were not the chances of war increased tenfold against such a man as this? And thenā€”and thenā€”?

No man could be more unfitted to hold possession of such a priceless treasure as thisā€”argued the man who did not hold it.

ā€œConfess, Eanswyth, that you are very glad I didnā€™t take you at your word and go after Tom,ā€ said Eustace, as they were sitting cosily at table.

ā€œPerhaps I am. I have been getting so dreadfully nervous and low spirited of lateā€”so different to the strong-minded creature I used to be,ā€ she said with a rueful smile. ā€œI am becoming quite frightened to be left alone.ā€

ā€œAre you? Well, I think I can undertake to promise that you shall not be left alone again. One of us must always make a point of being around the house while the other is away. But look here, Eanswyth; I really think you oughtnā€™t to go on staying here at present. Why donā€™t you go down to the Colony and stay in one or other of the towns, or even at that other farm of Tomā€™s, until things are settled again?ā€

ā€œI wonā€™t do that. And Iā€™m really not in the least afraid for myself. I donā€™t believe the Kafirs would harm me.ā€

ā€œThen why are you nervous at being left alone?ā€ was the very pertinent rejoinder.

ā€œNot on my own account. It is only that solitude gives me time to think. I am always imagining Tom coming to frightful grief in some form or other.ā€

The other did not at once reply. He was balancing a knife meditatively on the edge of his plate, his fine features a perfect mask of impassibility. But in reality his thoughts ran black and bitter. It was all ā€œTomā€ and ā€œTom.ā€ What the deuce had Tom done to deserve all this solicitudeā€”and how was it appreciated by its fortunate object? Not a hairā€™s-breadth. Then, as she rose from the table and went out on the stoep to look out for any sign of the absent oneā€™s return, Eustace was conscious of another turn of the spear in the wound. Why had he arrived on the scene of the fray that morning just in time to intervene? suggested his evil angel. The delay of a few minutes, and...

ā€œWould it do anything towards persuading you to adopt the more prudent course and leave here for a while, if I were to tell you that Josane was urging that very thing this morning?ā€ said Eustace when she returned. The said Josane was a grizzled old Kafir who held the post of cattle-herd under the two cousins. He was a GcalĆ©ka, and had fled from Kreliā€™s country some years previously, thereby narrowly escaping one of the varied and horrible forms of death by torture habitually meted out to those accused of his hypothetical offenceā€”for he had been ā€œsmelt outā€ by a witch-doctor. He was therefore not likely to throw in his lot with his own countrymen against his white protectors, by whom he was looked upon as an intelligent and thoroughly trustworthy man, which indeed he was.

ā€œI donā€™t think it would,ā€ she answered with a deprecatory smile. ā€œI should be ten times more nervous if I were right away, and, as I said before, I donā€™t believe the Kafirs would do me the slightest harm.ā€

Eustace, though he had every reason to suppose the contrary, said nothing as

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