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This text has been proofread but is not guaranteed to be free from errors. Corrections to the original text have been left in place.
Title: The Pathway, an electronic edition
Author: Page, Gertrude, d.1922
Publisher: Ward, Lock & Co., Limited
Place published: London, Melbourne and Toronto
Date: 1914
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 Ilustration at the front of Page's "The Pathway" THE  PATHWAY BY  GERTRUDE PAGEAuthor of "The Edge of Beyond," "The Silent Rancher," "Where the Strange Roads go Down," etc. WARD, LOCK & Co., LIMITED LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO 1914Copyright, 1913, by Gertrude Page,in the United State of America. Table of contents in front of Page's "The Pathway" Table of contents in front of Page's "The Pathway"THE PATHWAY.CHAPTER I.
A WILDERNESS HOME.RHODESIA has often been called a "country of surprises." This is undoubtedly a very apt description. Indeed, it is so full of surprises that one never need be surprised at anything--a statement which has rather an Irish sound about it. It might also be called "a country of incongruities"--of wattle and daub huts--or, more correctly, "pole and daga"--sheltering a Bechstein piano; dainty, cultured women live in those same huts, or possibly for months under a buck-sail. Corrugated iron and evening dress. Beautiful household silver cleaned by dirty niggers on old packing-cases on the veldt. More dirty, despicable niggers in filthy huts, living amidst scenery to make an artist weep for his incompetency to reproduce it. The incongruous everywhere, yet shaded and softened and blended as only Rhodesia knows how.It was, perhaps, this tender "mothering" spirit of the country that had helped to give so cosy and


home-like an air to the little group of pole and daga huts where Betty and Bobbie Glynn lived in the wilderness with their two brothers, choosing what are metaphorically "mud" huts and independence rather than arduous disheartening labours of earning a living in a grievously overstocked market.Not that they were free of arduous labours in Rhodesia, or had any wish to be, but at least it was in a little home of their own, in an interesting young country, with the two brothers they adored and for whom they gladly drudged. For life in the outside districts in Rhodesia must necessarily contain a considerable element of drudgery, with only dirty, incompetent natives to help, and none of the labour-saving appliances of the home countries.But then, as Bobbie declared, it simplified things very much to pour all the dregs on the kitchen floor, and to possess only two saucepans and no extras at all."I'm dreadfully afraid we shall be obliged to invest in a third saucepan," she complained, "and that will be one more to get washed. Twice, when Toby has brought us vegetables, I have had to let some go bad because I had no saucepan at liberty.""But they are dreadfully dear," urged the careful Betty. "If we buy anything at all, there are one or two more necessary items.""I don't suppose we shall buy anything at all," laughed Bobbie cheerily. "It's a long time since we had money to buy anything." Then after a pause she added: " I might choose a saucepan and a mincing machine for my birthday present. Toby asked me what I would like. He could get them at trade price for his store."The conversation took place while Bobbie was hunting round for something to make bread in, while Betty put a new knee into a trouser leg which one of the brothers had torn in the morning. Bobbie was not fond of bread-making, but she congratulated herself it was a great deal better than fitting a new knee on to an old pair of trousers. Of course, Twilight, the black cook-boy, ought to have made it, but his last two attempts had produced merely lumps of heavy dough, which they felt bound to try and eat because flour was so expensive, and finally Bobbie undertook the task.The little Home Camp consisted of five huts picturesquely situated, with a background of trees and a lovely view of kopjes and vleis upon two sides. A reed screen with a wild creeper growing over it shut them off a little from the track, though it is a small matter in Rhodesia, when you live in huts, whether your bedroom opens directly on to the road or not; also whether your door has a fastener or not. In any case, an old packing-case will keep it closed, if you want it closed, so why bother with fastenings? The five huts at the Sirius Gold Mine, now being worked on tribute by Bay and Kenneth Glynn, consisted of a large s hut, with varying styles of architecture as to roofs and makeshifts as to doors. In fact, the brothers' hut had no door at all, only a thin curtain, so they usually sang loudly as they had their baths, to warn their sisters to be on guard.They had two little beds made of leathern thongs stretched across a rough, wooden frame fixed upon four posts stuck in the ground--an excellent device

 
unless an army of ants took it into their heads to investigate what lay upon the top of the four posts. A little barrel on end did duty for a washstand, and a tiny glass hanging upon the wall for dressing-table. An old sack hung over the window opening --which was void of glass--not so much from any sense of modesty as to keep out the weird things that are apt to come in at night. An enamel basin and jug completed the furniture. The girls were a little better off. They possessed a camp-bed each, and the ants did not trouble to investigate, unless a portion of bed-clothes chanced to be touching the floor, and then they sometimes stormed the citadel in battalions, until the sleeping figure awoke to the situation. Then all the bed-clothes had to be thoroughly shaken, usually amid grunts of disgusted protest on the part of the awakened sleeper."Never mind," Bobbie was wont to say cheerfully; "it's for the
Empire!" She said the same the night the rat ran over Betty's pillow, and poor Betty jumped up with a scream and ran out of the hut."It's all right," Bobbie assured her, standing in the open door clad only in her pyjamas, and looking out with keen relish upon the lovely, sleeping, moonlit world. "Glory! What a scrumptious night! My dear, it was only a nice clean field rat: I've just driven him out through that hole by the washstand. Do come back to bed before you take cold.""Are you sure it wasn't a snake?" asked Betty, shivering with fright."Yes, quite sure. I saw him myself, the impudent little beggar I""But I hate rats, too. I simply can't come back at once!""Oh, come, Betty!"-coaxingly. "Not a nice friendly young field rat? Anyhow, it's for the Empire-don't forget that. We can't give Dread-noughts and things, but we can brave rats, and perhaps that's just as good in its way. Come, pat yourself on the back for a heroine and get into bed again quickly.""It's all very fine," Betty murmured, as she came back into the hut, " but the rat didn't run over your pillow, and I'd rather care a fragment less about the precious Empire and dispense with rat visitors."But the next morning her brother Kenneth daga'd the hole, and Betty was not called upon to be a heroine of that particular kind again for the present, though life in huts in the wilderness necessarily makes many calls upon the heroic spirit in one way or another.Its particular call just now arose from the bad luck of the mining venture. The tributing had paid well at first, though, unfortunately, much of their gain had had to go in the paying of debts. A bad year had run these up alarmingly, and the girls began to view with misgivings the possibility that they must in the end say good-bye to their wilderness life, at any rate for a season, and attempt to obtain employment in one of the towns. Then, with Rhodesia's delightful uncertainty, a small, rich vein had shown itself, and with rapidly lightening hearts the debts had all been paid off and a fresh start made with a clean slate. Alas, only to meet with another surprise, for the vein gave out suddenly, or, at any rate, vanished, and the debts began to


mount again. But now they had a new hope. Not far from the property
they were working was a waste piece of land, and it occurred to Bay
Glynn that it was a likely direction for the unexpected rich vein to
follow; and though no promising outcrop supported his belief, he held
to it firmly, and finally persuaded his brother to agree to "peg" the
area as their own private claim. They had no sooner done so than a
prospector in the neighbourhood came forward and said the claim was
his, but his "pegs" had been stolen. It was, as a matter of fact, a
clear attempt to "jump" the Glynns' claim, but it only half succeeded,
as the claim, instead of being given to the new claimant, was declared
open. This meant that whoever pegged first at sunrise upon a given
date should own the claim. It had worried the brothers a great deal,
as the claim was un- doubtedly theirs; but they could not afford to
fight the case, and could only take their chance of pegging first when the given morning arrived. The sisters spoke of it together while Bobbie thumped vigorously and a little impatiently at her bread, and Betty struggled manfully with the refractory knee of Kenneth's torn trousers."If they don't win," she said, a little sadly, "there isn't much left to hope about.""Oh, yes, there is!" declared Bobbie. "For my part, I shall go on hoping they will be millionaires every single day--when I've any time left over from hoping this annoying bread will rise.""That won't pay debts nor give us food"--with a little smile. "But Ken has great hopes of this new claim. Besides, they can't afford to move the machinery anywhere else,""Then, of course, they must win the claim. That is a splendid idea of Toby's to send for the sealed watch from Cape Town, if only the other side don't think of it too. We'll will them not to. Ugh, bread-making is a fag in this temperature I I wish you would all go mad, like Nebuchadnezzar, and eat grass! I know it won't rise. It is too depressed about the gold giving out and the new claim being jumped."Betty was silent a moment, then she said: "It's funny, isn't it, how much less things seem to matter in Rhodesia than they did at home? We used to worry so about things that are mere trifles here; and things here that would almost have turned us grey at home are all in the day's work, more or less.""It is one of the great compensations"-thumping on lustily. "I'd simply hate to make bread in England, and not know if there would be anything but bully beef to eat for a week, nor if I'd ever have a new frock again. But it is quite different in a colony. Something makes it worth while. I suppose it is the possibility always existing that one may strike it rich to-morrow or next year.""That and Toby," suggested Betty slyly."Well, yes" --with a pretty blush. "Of course, one couldn't meet a Toby anywhere else. When I think of that dear innocent, fresh from Belgrave Square, with his butchery and his little tin-pot store, I feel I could just hug myself with delight. He made five pounds clear profit last week, and he said he felt like a millionaire already. He wrote sheets about it to his mother. You see, she wanted him to stay in the Inniskillings and have a three hundred a year allowance from his father; and


Toby said he couldn't make it do, and he would be better off here with nothing but a few hundreds capital, because he needn't buy any clothes nor pay a mess bill. In the end, his father gave him a thousand, and he promptly lost it all in a gold mine. Of course, his mother said it served him right, and that's why he had to write her such pages about his five pounds clear profit, and how rich and jolly he felt.""I suppose, if the boys get this claim, and it turns out a good one, it will bring more miners here, and be a good thing for Toby and his store?""Yes, rather! That's why he is so excited about it. He wants me to promise to be engaged to him the first month he makes thirty pounds"--and she laughed happily. "I told him I should have to see the books, or he might stick a few noughts on and try to bluff me. I think this stuff has been pounded enough now" breaking off. "Hi, Twilight"- calling the native cook-" bring the bally bread-tin!".The native emerged from the kitchen hut dressed in a pair of electric blue knickerbockers and a mustard-coloured shirt, with a back rent from his neck to his middle, and held out a battered-looking tin to Bobbie."Dirty!" said she, in a voice of disgust. "Hamba gaza" (Go and wash it). "No wonder your bread tastes like mouldy suet dumpling if you knead it for about two minutes and then cook it in a dirty tin. What garments!" she added to her sister. "Where did he raise them?""He did a deal with a mine boy yesterday for the knickerbockers. I told him they were hideous.

 Picture in body of Page's "The Pathway"               
I went into the kitchen when he was trying them on. Rather embarrassing for both of us!"Bobbie laughed. "Except that he is so exactly like a chimpanzee, I half imagine him one. All the same, it is a relief the garments are whole. He was scarcely decent in the others. Hullo, who is this? I hear a bicycle bell." And she turned her head towards the screen and bushes from whence emerged the track from the road. Almost at the same moment a gay voice sang out, "Come into the garden, Maud!" and Toby Fitzgerald sprang off his bicycle beside the little rustic verandah in front of the sitting-room hut.He approached Bobbie, holding out to her an ungainly parcel wrapped in an old piece of newspaper. "Fair lady," he said, while his sunny, blue eyes danced delightfully, "I have brought you a little gift--just a little bon-bon, don't you know. Not exactly a keepsake--at least, I shouldn't recommend it as such." Then, as he unwrapped the greasy newspaper: "Behold! A sirloin of beef from my very own butcher's shop!"CHAPTER II.
TOBY FITZGERALD.BOBBIE clasped her gift ecstatically. "Oh, you dear!" she cried. "And to think we have had nothing but bully beef for a week! A sirloin, too! Not even a scrag end! How perfectly sweet of you, Toby!""A scrag end, indeed! As if I were likely to bring you such a thing! Besides, I sold the scrag end and the lights and the tail at top prices to a barmy old nigger who thought he was getting the pick of the whole beast!""When was it killed?" asked the housewifely Betty. "Probably we ought to cook it at once. The last piece of fresh meat that came our way had to be given decent burial directly it arrived.""I call that rather rude," said Bobbie, looking amused. "It sounds somehow like looking a gift horse in the mouth.""And a very wise precaution, considering the nature of the gift," laughed Toby. "It was killed at daybreak, Mrs. Housekeeper; and as the temperature at the store has been eighty-six degrees in the shade today, I should recommend no delay in cooking. I've a nice little collection growing 'whiffy' already, for which I expect to get extra

               
good prices tomorrow. Niggers are always ready to pay an extra sixpence or so if they get a nice odour thrown in.""We'll have it for dinner," Bobbie decided;" and perhaps it will buck the boys up a little. Of course you will stay?""Thanks. I guess I don't need pressing." He turned away to place his bicycle more securely, and both girls began to laugh."Really, Toby," exclaimed Betty, "what an amazing patch! Why didn't you let Bobbie or me do it for you?" On the seat of his "shorts" was a large square patch of a darker shade than the original material, and the lower half having come unsewn, it hung down like a little apron."It's a perfectly beautiful patch," he asserted in an injured voice, while his eyes twinkled. "I'm very proud of it.""Is it designed for ventilation?" asked Bobbie."Why?" -- and he felt himself carefully, discovering for the first time that many of his stitches had come out. Then he laughed mischievously."What a lucky thing it wasn't the top that came undone!""As if you would have cared!"--from Bobbie."But I really must find you a safety-pin in case the whole patch falls off." And she went away into their hut afterwards securing Toby's garments with a greater degree of safety, while Betty, looking on, wondered what the fashionable lady in London who was his mother would have thought of his general attire. Perhaps, could she have seen him just as he stood in the afternoon light, with the happy gleam


in his eyes and the alluring air of reckless inconsequence, she would have realised that he had found a life that suited him infinitely better than worrying along on a limited allowance in an expensive regiment. In truth, she could not have chosen but to be proud of him. Standing six-foot-two in his socks, he was as upright as a young sapling, with broad shoulders, brown, sinewy arms bared above the elbow, and a brown, healthy face that radiated good temper, fearless honesty, and a light-hearted joyousness. Moreover, it was difficult to imagine that anything could be more becoming to him than his present somewhat grotesque costume. It consisted of a brown shirt opened to the second button at the throat, and showing a very distinct line between sunburnt flesh and that which had been covered. The third button would doubtless have been open also, but, as he was paying an afternoon call upon ladies, he had taken the trouble to tie a piece of bootlace in the buttonhole and through the hole left where the button had been torn off, and thus the front of the shirt was partly secured. The "shorts" with the patch have already been described, but it must not be overlooked that they only reached just above the knees, whereas his puttees only reached just below, and therefore a large piece of brown, unclothed knee was visible. The puttees were the most presentable part of his attire, but below them emerged a pair of large, heavy-soled boots, like a plough-boy's, without which he was rarely to be seen. But as it was many months since he had entered a drawing-room, it was
of small moment, for all the dining-rooms in that particular neighbourhood had baked mud floors, and


were accustomed to being trodden by hob-nailed boots. Lastly, his hat, which was tilted on the back his head at a rakish angle, was such as a tramp would barely say "Thank you!" for in England. And yet, with it all, there was not a line of him that not bespeak the gentleman born and bred, from delicate-curved nostrils to the high instep which even plough-boy boots could not hide. He was a splendid type of Kiplig's Lost Legion--the sporting, dare-devil younger sons who go out to conquer the earth in an army that has no leader and no name, and of which the only headquarters is the dear little Island in the northern Pacific, and the only code of laws to "play game." And Bobbie, on one knee beside him, securing his patch with a safety-pin, and Betty, looking on, were true types of the fine women's battalion of the same army. Well bred, gently-nurtured, English gentlewomen, throwing in their lot with the pioneers' leaderless legion, doing most of their own washing and cooking, braving all kinds of annoyances and dangers, and all the time living contentedly in wattle-and- daub huts, while they trained themselves to laugh at incidents over which most women would cry, Bobbie, the younger, was slim and tall, and, without being exactly pretty, possessed a frank,engaging manner and a joyous laugh that were more attractive than perfect features, and made her a favourite every where Betty was of a quieter disposition, and was the prettier of the two; but whereas Bobbie would fearlessly have braved the life alone, the elder girl had only the courage to brave it in her sister's company. She was engaged to young doctor trying to win renown, and at the


same time a post that would enable him to keep a wife, with the plucky body of men investigating the sleeping-sickness area. Bobbie would some day be engaged to Toby Fitzgerald, but as at present the profits of his store and butchery only totalled five pounds a month, no binding promise had been asked or given.When the patch had been duly secured, and Twilight carefully
instructed how to cook the precious sirloin, Toby suddenly remembered
that some letters had come to his store, brought from the post-office
forty miles away by a neighbour farming close by named Harry
Blake. There was one each for the two girls, and one for the brothers,
which looked like a bill, and, as Bobbie said, could very well
wait. Betty's was from her fiancé, Dr. Philip Stanhope, and she smiled as she read the opening sentences. "He says the only address he could give me would be the latitude and longitude, which probably would not convey any more to me than it does to him, but that it is the thirstiest spot he has ever known." Then, after reading a little further, she added: "He says they have heard a rumour of a rich gold vein on some property in our direction belonging to Sir James Fortescue. The rumour came through from someone belonging to the Exploration Company in Johannesburg.""Oh, by Jove, yes!" exclaimed Toby. "I was nearly forgetting all about it. Blake knew all the latest. He had heard it in Geegi. Some ore crushed from Sir James Fortescue's claim has yielded an ounce to the ton after several crushings taken haphazard. It is about ten miles off. He said he had heard he was on his way from Lobenwayo to


investigate, and will pass through here. He may come any day.""Isn't Sir James Fortescue the man who has formed the Independence League?" Bobbie asked."Yes. The senior member for Lobenwayo. Splendid fellow! He is a cousin of Lord Nevel, the Viceroy of India, and the best politician in country. In fact, some people think he is the only one.""And will he come here?" asked Betty with interest. "Sure to. I hope I shall be near. I should like to meet him. He and my father were once in the Guards together.""How thrilling to have a real live politician and magnate to see us!" exclaimed Bobbie."I know quite well I shall have on my old morning frock and shabby shoes and probably a grimy face!" How disgusting not to know when to expect him! I would like at least to be clean.""If he passes the store first, and he is almost sure to, I will send a boy flying on to tell you.""You bird!"--gratefully. "Is he a married man?""Not a bit of it, and awfully good-looking. You really must have your best bib and tucker on." Then he added, with a little wistful humour: "But I don't let him cut me out.Perhaps I should be wiser to waylay him and direct him by some other route.""I don't think you need worry"--and Bobbie laughed frankly. "Sir James Fortescue, cousin of somebody who is Viceroy of India, once in the guards and now a Rhodesian magnate, is not very


likely to be interested in her ladyship, Bobbie Glynn, generally engaged in household work with smudges on her face.""Like Cinderella," put in Betty, "and Sir James might be the prince.""Of course he might," declared Toby. "I shall certainly have to waylay him.""Only a waste of time, my dear Toby. I don't want a prince, and I'm
perfectly certain to be the wife of a Rhodesian magnate would bore me
to tears. I'd sooner live on an occasional sirloin near that store of
yours. But surely there is some good land to 'peg' near his claim? Why haven't you rushed off on your bicycle?""No, there's not a yard unclaimed close at hand. He has most of it himself, and the claim nearest belongs to a Dutchman. There was a find there once before, but it ran out rather quickly. Of course, this new one is very uncertain, but in this amazing country you can never tell where gold will crop up.""Nor where it will run out, seemingly," said Betty. "How late the boys are this evening!""Here they come!" And Toby sprang up just as Bay and Kenneth Glynn emerged from some trees a little way off, where were the adits and machinery of their mine. They were both dressed in brown slacks and shirts, and looked very dirty and very tired, though each face brightened at the sight of Toby's cheery countenance. They had taken half the day each underground, and work under those circumstances, when not enough gold is forthcoming to pay for living expenses, calls for the greatest patience, and is a heavy strain upon the most hopeful of men. And the Glynns had had

             
many months of it now, and were seriously losing heart. But Toby was always enlivening, and his news about Sir James Fortescue was encouraging, for it seemed to confirm the fact that, at any rate, they were in a gold belt not by any means yet worked out.So in the end it was a cheery little party that sat down to enjoy the sirloin in the wattle and daub dining-hut, though a fiasco over the soup nearly spoilt all their appetites beforehand. A small, very slightly-clad nigger brought it in, struggling to look at the plate of each hand at once, in order to avoid spilling, and in consequence losing half the contents of both in turn. This perturbed him to such an extent that he stood a moment in perplexity and looked ready to cry. Then he chanced to catch Toby's eye, and Toby suddenly and unexpectedly pulled a hideous face at him, upon which he shot the soup plates on to the table and fled precipitously. Twilight then took matters in his I own hands, and arrived with the soup plates in one hand and the saucepan of soup in the other, prepared to ladle out a portion to each diner. But when he came to Bobbie, an ungainly object protruded from the soup and got in the way of the ladle."What in the world is it?" she exclaimed, peering into the saucepan."Looks like a piece of monkey I" suggested Toby joyfully."There was a dead nigger in the compound two days ago," volunteered Bay, with a twinkle."Oh, Lord!" cried Toby. "Dead nigger two days old, and the thermometer eighty -six in the Shade!""You're perfectly disgusting!" protested Betty, peering anxiously at the saucepan, as all the men began to laugh. "What is it, Twilight?"The cook-boy grinned with a self-satisfied air. "Mouchli" (nice), said he. And then, in Kaffir the girls only half understood, he explained that he had found a nice nest of field rats that afternoon, and put them all in the soup. Bay and Kenneth swore roundly under their breaths, but Toby became hysterical with amusement, and had to be patted on the back before the mysterious sentence was translated to the girls."The damn boy says he has put rats in the soup!" said Bay disgustedly, when Toby gave him a chance to be heard; and then Bobbie became hilarious, too, tears streaming from her eyes, while Betty jumped up in horror and pushed away her plate, declaring she would eat nothing at all that evening. "Oh, nonsense, Betty!" her sister cried at last. "It's the dear little chap who ran over your face, I expect, and all his family. You haven't tasted any, so it doesn't matter. My dear, it's for the Empire, you really must try and remember." And again she led the chorus of laughter, as the disgraced soup was all poured back into the saucepan and returned ignominiously to the kitchen to be eaten by the enterprising Twilight."You're quite sure it really is beef?" asked poor Betty of their guest, when the sirloin arrived."Quite," he assured her. "I'd show you the carcase, only I've sold every blooming shred of it, including the skin and teeth."CHAPTER III.
UNEXPECTED VISITORS.Two days passed, and Sir James Fortescue did not appear, but neither Betty nor Bobbie felt any the less interest in the prospective visit. At the same time they wished he would make his appearance quickly, because it was very inconvenient to continue wearing clean linen skirts, whatever they were doing,and making special efforts to keep them clean. And naturally one did not want to be caught looking untidy by a Rhodesian celebrity such as Sir James. In fact, as a distinguished visitor was so rare an event as never to have occurred before, they both wanted to look their best. Moreover, Bay and Kenneth had added to their interest greatly by their account of the man, for at that time Sir James was to a large extent the backbone of Rhodesian politics --a man of means and independence, in no way subservient to the Chartered Company, and therefore eminently fitted to be a leader of the people. And thus it chanced that the settlers had come to pin their hopes upon him to steer them clear of any course that might mean inclusion in the South African Union, followed by bilingualism and an influx of undesirable poor settlers from the south- -for which Rhodesia would no doubt prove a most

 
satisfactory dumping ground--and also to help them win their rights as an independent successful community when the hour arrived for the renewal or
withdrawal of the British South Africa Company's charter. That the vast majority wished the charter renewed did not by any means imply that they were entirely satisfied with the existing conditions, and to get it renewed with the rights of the people more definitely respected was the end to which Sir James was everywhere trusted by his followers. At the moment he was the most interesting and striking figure in the country, and it was small wonder that the two girls in their wilderness home wished to be presentably attired should he call at their dwelling. So that short khaki skirts were laid aside for a day or two, and while Betty looked charming in cool green linen, Bobbie looked brisk and fresh in white.But after two days of what Bobbie called "young-ladyism," which merely meant leaving all occupations likely to spoil the freshness of their skirts to some indefinite future, the irksomeness of the uncertain expectancy became very boring, and it was quite a relief when their neighbour, Harry Blake, filled the gap to some extent by quite unaccountably paying them a morning call, although he brought information that grievously damped their spirits."It is a long time since you chanced to call upon us in the
morning," was Betty's greeting. "I hope you will not fail to observe how clean and tidy we both are, because we are engaged in special efforts to look as presentable as possible, should we receive a sudden visit from Sir James Fortescue without any warning."I merely observed that you both look a little charming than usual,"
was the prompt reply."But I am afraid the special efforts would have Wasted, had I not
chanced to ride over today, to bring you this paper and beg a
book. Sir James Fortescue is not in the least likely to come this way. The road is too bad, for one thing. He will go round with mules, and drive to within a few miles of his Property.""Perhaps he will trek all the way," suggested Bobbie, "and if so, he is sure to pass here; it is the short cut." She spoke in a slightly off-hand way, and held her head a trifle higher than usual, as if to impress upon their visitor that his pronounced attitude of admiration was a mere waste of time, But if so she could hardly be said to achieve any success, for Harry Blake, leaning against a tree in a nonchalant attitude that suited perfectly the cool dare-devilry of his mien, only continued to gaze steadily and persistently, with that same pronounced admiration filling his eyes. That he should so admire Bobbie was perhaps the most natural thing in the world, for her fearless independence could only appeal strongly to a man whose lawlessness was a characteristic coupled with his name throughout the land. One of the pioneers, he had joined the first column at a time when every hardy, vigorous man was welcome, and no questions asked about a doubtful past. That he had been under a cloud, and probably an assumed name also was pretty generally accepted, but so also was many another of the intrepid adventurers of the early days. They were the stuff that shapes best in a civilising army, if only for the


simple reason that they could not afford to turn back, whatever the discomforts and hardships of the way. But it was not long before Blake became known as something more than the intrepid adventurer. Among his comrades he was known as a dare-devil of the most virile type, to whom fear was unknown, and pity, too--a man who stopped at nothing to achieve his end, and usually did achieve it. Rumour whispered he was not merely fleeing from justice, but the supreme penalty; but, however that might be, rumour was little heeded with that hardy band marching forward to carry the light of civilisation and prosperity to Cecil Rhodes's land. A little later his chance came in the rebellions, where he distinguished himself beyond any for cool effrontery and absolute fearlessness, coupled secretly with cold-blooded cruelty which men shrank from, yet must fain condone because it was regarded as a retaliation to the hellish cruelty of the blacks. Afterwards he received a further grant of land beside that he had already contrived to attain as a pioneer, and thus became the owner of a large and valuable farm. A story, which was no doubt true, put down his speedy stocking of it partly to raids upon native cattle, and partly to a system by which he paid for a cow with a handful of beads; but he was too far from any centre to be brought to book about it, and, until mines were started in his vicinity, ruled his little kingdom with a rod of iron. It was not very long after Bobbie and Betty had joined their brothers that he commenced to pay attention to Bobbie, only to find the aristocratic young butcher and store-keeper had walked lightly in and won

             
smiles where he won little else but rebuffs. But all his life Blake had never given in easily, and while he congratulated himself that Toby had no means
to keep a wife, whereas he was more or less a rich man, he bided his time with cool patience and, as ever, believed in himself. Anyhow, there was no immediate haste, and Toby, to his thinking, was but a delightful fool-not probably a very serious obstacle in the long run to an unscrupulous adventurer, accustomed to get what he wanted by any means that offered, fair or foul. So now he lounged
by the tree, looking his best in riding breeches and gaiters, a soft white shirt, and a Baden-Powell hat on the back of his head, and coolly admired Bobbie
to his heart's content, in spite of her unpromising attitude."A man like Fortescue does not do much trekking," he said, answering her surmise. "Rhodesian magnates like comfort, especially if they are Company men"--with a sneer--"and there are shareholders to pay the piper.""I thought Sir James was not a Company man?" said Betty."He is not a manager, but he is a director of two or three.""But this claim is his own, isn't it?""Yes." Then he added with an assumed carelessness that instantly struck Bobbie as insincere:
"As a matter of fact his claim is practically worthless. The best samples that have been crushed came from the adjoining claim, which belongs to a Dutchman named Van Tyl and two or three friends of his who are putting up the money to work it. I think our great man will have rather a shock


when he comes along to inspect his valuable property.The gold is in a kopje, and he only owns part of the slope. All the top of the kopje is Van Tyl's.""I thought the top of the kopje was Sir James's," said Bobbie, continuing some work in her hands with an air of but slight concern."I believe that is the general impression, but it is a mistake. Van Tyl's pegs take in the top, therefore Sir James can only work his slope a short distance. He can't go under Van Tyl's claim.""How odd!" she commented. "We thought it was just the other way about, and the adjoining claim ran under Sir James's."At that moment Betty rose and went inside one of the huts,leaving her sister and Blake alone. Bobbie half unconsciously stiffened instantly, but Blake, perfectly unperturbed, moved a little nearer and stood beside her. "Always busy," he remarked, in a softer voice than usual. "I don't think I like to see it. I feel it would be more fitting to see you mounted on a beautiful thoroughbred, galloping after hounds, or enjoying a spin in a motor.""I'm perfectly satisfied as I am," she answered with a light laugh. "I should certainly fall off the thoroughbred, and might easily get killed in the
motor.""You would soon learn to ride," he said, ignoring her flippancy."You would look splendid on horseback.""Hanging round its neck and crying out to someone to stop it! I
think I am safer on a bicycle." Then she added pointedly: "You don't seem very busy this morning?""As a matter of fact, I am busy; but I hadn't

             
called for some days, and I wondered if you had beard about Sir James's trip this way.""But if he isn't coming this way?"--inquiringly; and immediately Bobbie guessed he had come to find out whether they expected him or not, and how much they had heard."Oh, of course, I only surmise! I know he is a man who likes
comforts. If he is in no hurry, it is easier for him to go the other
way.""Do you know him?""I have met him "--guardedly."And do you like him?""I think he is a clever man, but he is spoilt, like most clever men, with his vast opinion of himself."He paused a moment, then ran on: "I expect he is already imagining himself a millionaire over this gold find, and is more inflated than ever, so it will be rather a joke when he discovers the truth." He waited as if expecting her to say something, but as Bobbie merely sewed on unconcernedly, he added: "Of course, Van Tyl will make a pile. The gold is there all right, and most of it is on his claim.""Do you know Van Tyl?" she asked suddenly, with characteristic directness."Yes. I knew him in Bechuanaland.""Really! And have you seen him lately?""I saw him at Geegi last week. He is coming up to his property. I expect him any day."Bobbie said no more, but she registered a doubt in her keen brain, and decided to watch developments closely. She knew Blake well enough to perceive something might lie behind his various


assertions, and felt it would be interesting to unravel his latest scheme.A little later he left, saying he had to be back at his farm, and could not stay until Kenneth and Bay came up from the mine."Then what in the world did he come at all for?" she asked of
Betty, glancing after his retreating figure. "Just to inform us that
Rhodesian magnates always travel in comfort, and therefore Sir James
will not come this way?" And she laughed with a note of sarcasm." Anyhow, I think I'll make that Cape gooseberry jam," said Betty. "He won't come to-day, and the fruit is spoiling.""And I think I'll wash those blouses," Bobbie decided."I'm tired of seeing them about. No doubt he will take the road, and never come near us at all."So the fresh white skirt was discarded, and the old short khaki donned once more; and under a shady tree she rolled her sleeves up to the elbow and proceeded to wash two or three dainty blouses in the bath. She stood with her back to the path approaching their huts,and was singing softly to herself as she splashed about in soap suds enjoying a little fresh breeze that fanned her hair and blew it in pretty tendrils over her forehead. Thus she was perfectly unaware that a tall, fine-looking man, somewhat dusty and travel-stained with trekking, had walked up the path to the huts,and now stood watching her with amused, quizzical eyes, wondering how soon she would become aware of his presence. Bobbie wrung out a blouse and held it up at arm's length outspread, to see if it

             
looked really clean. Then a man's cough close behind startled her, and she swung round suddenly, to meet the grey eyes with their quizzical twinkle, and find herself face to face, soapsuds and all, with a stranger who could not possibly be other than Sir James Fortescue."There now!" she exclaimed after a swift survey, while her face broke into a delightful smile. "If I haven't been specially tidy to receive you every day this week, and you positively arrive when I'm all anyhow, mixed up with soapsuds!"Sir James had been known as a courtier all his life. Raising his hat with a courtly bow, he replied charmingly: "May I say that the 'all anyhow' costume and the soapsuds are singularly becoming?"Bobbie felt herself captured instantly, and Sir James noted, with
pleased gratification, the welcoming flash of her fine eyes. But
little did either think, standing there where a fretwork of sunshine
played on them through the trees, that the link of a lifetime was
forging, and Heaven's safeguard for a man and a country brought into being.CHAPTER IV.
SIR JAMES MAKES FRIENDS."THEN you had heard I was coming?"After greeting Betty, who came forward on hearing voices, Sir James took the seat offered him, and looked again with interest at Bobbie, now turning down her sleeves."We heard you were coming to see your claim, but we did not know if you would come the short cut past here, or go round by the road. A neighbour called this morning who said you were going by the road, so we left off expecting you for today.""I wonder where your neighbour got his information?""I think he just imagined it. He said Rhodesian magnates were too fond of comfort to do much trekking off the road." And her eyes danced in a way that greatly pleased the man accustomed chiefly to subservient attention. "I'm glad he was not right. A strange visitor is a great treat to us.""I am sure you are thirsty," put in the thoughtful Betty. "It is rather hot today. What would you like to drink? Are you a tea-drinker, like most Rhodesians?""I should love a cup of tea beyond anything.

           
It is hot out in the glare, but it is delightfully cool and shady here.""Perhaps you will not need to hurry on to-day," she ventured a little shyly. "Our brothers will be in from the mine at midday, and we shall all be so pleased if you will stay." She spoke somewhat timidly, being painfully conscious that their larder was more or less groaning with emptiness, and their stock of supplies at a very low ebb, and to entertain anyone of Sir James's distinction under the circumstances seemed a most daring feat. Bobbie felt the same, but her natural wit helped her to cope with the situation. "We shall be both pleased and honoured," she told him; "but we shall be happier in our minds if you would forgive our explaining that, as the nearest store is forty miles away, we have to live very frugally. I am afraid the best thing we can offer you will be the welcome.""It is most kind of you," Sir James answered warmly. "I should very much like to remain a few hours." Then, after a slight pause, he added gracefully: "I always think an unexpected guest in this country ought to be allowed the privilege of contributing to the menu in any circumstances such as your distance from a town. I shall feel much happier if you will humour me in this matter. I have more stores than I can possibly use, and a supply of buck meat as well."Betty coloured, and looked a little uncomfortable, as if she feared Sir James thought they had been giving him a hint; but Bobbie accepted the offer in the spirit in which it was made, and replied gaily: "How thoughtful of you! If you! If you only 


knew how we were both quaking in our shoes at the thought of the bully beef lunch we should be obliged to offer you! Of course, we should have tried to improve the flavour with curry powder, but even then it often tastes like boiled string."Sir James laughed genially. "I know it," he said wit feeling. "One hots it, and colds it, and fries it, and bakes it, and in the end one finds nothing is really an improvement, and just eats it in its natural state. I have relished many a hearty meal off it, all the same, up here in the early days, even if Rhodesian magnates are so fond of comfort. You must find it very awkward sometimes to be so far from everywhere!""It is tiresome when we forget things like soap and sugar," Bobbie told him; "especially the latter"--with a little smile. "One can better exist without soap.""And have you been here long?""We came about a year ago.""Really!" He spoke in surprise, having supposed they were but
paying a passing visit. "I think you are both very courageous. It must
be extremely lonely sometimes, and catering is always difficult in
these out-of-the-way places. Unless your brothers have time to shoot
an occasional buck, I suppose you rarely get any fresh meat at all?""Only when Mr. Fitzgerald, who has a Kaffir store and butchery near, kills some old trek ox he has bought cheap. The butchery business depends almost entirely upon what old carcase he can buy very cheap to sell to the natives at fancy prices. He is very good in saving us the best piece; and

            
we eat it with a relish, and ask no questions concerning age and all that.""We only ask when it was killed," put in Betty, "for fear it should walk away again while we are considering the best way to cook it."Sir James looked from one to the other of the pretty sisters, and there was a glow almost like pride in his eyes. "You have evidently done your share of 'roughing it' here. May I say at once how tremendously I admire all the plucky women in this beautiful country, helping we men to make it a great colony. We should not get very far without you."A swift softness crossed Bobbie's eyes. "How nice of you!" she said. "Betty and I often hearten each other with the idea that we are doing a little service for dear old England, but we never look for any recognition from anyone else. Not matters"--cheerfully. "We like being here, and think it worth while, or perhaps we should not stay.""I think it matters a great deal. The pioneers thought it worth while, or probably they would not have stayed, but that does not make anyone admire them the less. It all shows grit and spirit, and one is so pleased to think one's countrywomen have it in abundance. When there is a little less commercialism about our government, I hope there will be more thought for the women throughout the country. To-day you must let me give myself the pleasure of showing my appreciation in one way by producing the best feast we can manage between us. I heard of your brothers at Geegi. I had to stay there a day and night to get some postal matter. They have had rather bad luck, I'm afraid?""They have lately, but we've still a large balance,


of hope to draw upon." Bobbie was now busying herself preparing a little rustic packing-case table for tea, while Betty fetched cups and saucers and called to Twilight to boil the kettle. Sir James, seated in a low deck chair, with his sun helmet on the ground beside him, watched both, but particularly Bobbie, with increasing interest, noting afresh the flank naturalness that was her greatest charm, and also the slim, upright, graceful figure, which even the old, short, khaki skirt and workaday blouse could not hide. And Bobbie glanced with frank interest from time to time at him, seeing a soldierly-looking man of about fifty, with humorous grey eyes, iron-grey hair, and a very square, determined chin. And because, in spite of all their hardships, she had grown to dearly love Rhodesia, she was conscious of a glad inward swell that the young country had such a man as this at the helm to help her through the troubles and pitfalls that befall all new countries in their early stages. One felt, looking at the fine head and face, that here was a man who would not stoop to petty dealing, either for his own benefit, or for that of any far-off shareholders; who would not propagate any policy that blessed the present day at the expense of a future one; a man who would never pander to this power or to that would never cloak his deeds so that they read and sounded well, but were in reality governed by principles of self-interest; a man who would give all or lose all before he would stoop to do a deal that was not open in every particular to the whole world. And, even away there in the wilderness, Bobbie knew how great was Rhodesia's need of such men. And behind his keen, quiet eyes Sir James watched the

            
woman with the frank, fearless face, and he said to himself: "If only
there were more of her to influence our men and spur them on along the
difficult right paths, what a country we should become!" Then Betty came with the teapot, as Twilight's electric blue knickerbockers were too dirty to be presentable, and his shirt hanging in shreds, and Sir James jumped up to take it from her, smilingly protesting when she sought to stay him."My carriers are all camped by the river," he told them. "When my personal boy comes up, we will send him for some buck meat and stores."Finally, by the luncheon hour, a dainty repast was outspread to greet the miners, and Bobbie and Betty had contrived to slip into their hut and don the clean dresses while their guest went with his boy to select whatever he thought would please them best among his stores. Bobbie also contrived to send a message to Toby, and by three o'clock he arrived with a radiant face, though his attire was of much the same nondescript quality as usual.Sir James greeted him pleasantly. "I understand you represent the principal stores of the district, and, among other things, supply a joint of beef when you can pick up an old trek ox cheap.""It is a libel," stated the store-keeper stoutly."My beef is of the best. I give you my word of honour I never sell any beast unless I am quite satisfied what it died of first. I hope," he added politely, "that you have not been regaled upon rat soup to-day, as I was three evenings ago? It is really quite impossible to ascertain correctly where the rats came from!"In order to pay him out for giving their cook-boy


away, the girls immediately commenced to give him a list of all the dainties they had had for lunch, after which, as Sir James said he could not possibly take anything away that had already found its way to the house, Toby promptly invited himself upon a three days' visit."I believe I know your father," Sir James said to him presently. "Surely he was in the Guards in I890 or thereabouts?""Yes, sir. He has mentioned you in one or two letters.""I thought I could not be mistaken; you are the exact image of what he was then. I am sorry I did not know before. And you say you have a store and butchery. I hope you are making a fortune?""Going to." Toby's eyes twinkled. "The returns were five pounds last month.""Anyhow, you look uncommonly well on it," laughed Sir James. "I'll tell your father when I next see him in the club. Like myself, you appear
to prefer Colonial freedom to the barrack life of a smart regiment.""Oh, Lord, yes!"--and there was no doubt about Toby's sincerity. "I'm as happy as a king when the blooming store is paying!"In the end, Sir James was so pleased with his company that he was prevailed upon to put up his tent and stay the night. "It will delay me a day," was his only demur, "as I cannot get through to Loka to-morrow; but I don't suppose my claim will run away, and, having once got out upon the veldt, I am in no hurry to get back to Lobenwayo. There is little else there just now but dust and

           
drought." He looked round with a pleased expression upon the peaceful, shady little wilderness home. It was the end of the dry season, and the spring tints upon the trees were making beautiful the land. The veldt round the Glynns' mine had been burnt early, and in consequence the ground was gay with many veldt flowers of exquisite shades and the bright green of the young sugar bush. After tea he went down the mine with the brothers, and had a long talk with them on their prospects, heartening them considerably, and promising to help them in any way he could. While they were away, Bobbie and Betty were Very surprised to see Blake approaching once more, and almost instantly a vague misgiving seized Bobbie concerning his object and concerning the welfare of Sir James--nothing she could give a name to, nothing tangible at all--but something born of a new furtiveness in Blake's demeanour and the unexpectedness of his second visit. Noting the surprise she did not attempt to conceal, he remarked at once:"You are surprised to see me again so soon, Miss Bobbie; but I heard Sir James had come this way, after all, and was at your place. Naturally, I could not resist the chance to come and see him.""How did you hear?" asked Bobbie casually. Blake's farm was well out of the way of the traveller's route, and it puzzled her how he could know of their guest's arrival."A native told me, and I just rode over. I fought under Sir James in one of the rebellions, but he is not likely to remember me."A few minutes later the rest of the party returned,


and, watching from the background, Bobbie observed that Sir James recognised Blake instantly, and that there was momentarily a dark look in his eyes. Blake, on the other hand, appeared almost gushingly affable, though, as ever, his manner did not seem to Bobbie sincere. It occurred to her that both men instantly remembered something they would prefer to forget, and each knew that the other remembered. Blake saluted, as to his former commander, and, coldly acknowledging the salute, Sir James replied to his greeting laconically: "How d'ye do? Are you still living down here?"But Blake had no intention of being repulsed, and presently drew the visitor into conversation, whether he would or no, showing himself only ready to help him on his journey."If you do not go through to Loka tomorrow," he said, "there is a most excellent camping-place by the M'Tarsa river. It is near a large kraal, where you could easily get all the 'scoff' (food) you need for your boys.""I am wanting 'scoff' rather badly," Sir James said. "I dare say I could arrange with them to supply me for a fortnight.""I'm sure you could. Their meal is good, too. They grind it very fine.""You are not speaking of Shagann's kraal, are you?" asked Toby suddenly. "Those natives are the biggest set of villains in the country."Blake gave a low laugh. "They used to be. There is not much use for villainy nowadays; it doesn't pay.""Anyhow, I dare say their meal is none the worse," put in Sir James, with a smile. "I might

          
go through and make arrangements with them tomorrow, and then finish my journey the next day. Thank you for mentioning it, Blake.""Not at all, sir. I am only too glad to be of any service. Here's to the new gold mine! I expect you have got a good thing up there, and I hope it is going to make money for all of us. I shall sow an extra large crop of mealies and ground nuts on the strength of it.""And I shall enlarge my store," chimed in Toby, "and book an option upon every sick beast in the neighbourhood!"But Bobbie secretly knit her straight brows with a worried air. "Only this morning," was her thought, "he told me the rich reef was on this Dutchman's claim, and practically nothing on Sir James's."CHAPTER V.
A LITTLE LOVE-MAKING.AFTER Blake had left, and Sir James was once more discussing gold-mining and the affairs of the nation generally with Kenneth and Bay, it was only in the natural order of affairs that Bobbie should pay an evening visit to the span of donkeys which did their transport, and that Toby should accompany her; and, still further, that, no sooner were they hidden from view, the young giant should slip his arm round Bobbie's shoulders and lean his fair head down to hers to steal a kiss."You mustn't do that," she said, though with small pretence of firmness. "At the present moment I'm in love with Sir James!""So am I," he replied, unheeding her. "He's a ripper, isn't he? I've always heard he was a fine man, but he's even better than I imagined."They walked on arm in arm, enjoying the cool, delicious night air and all the familiar sounds of grasshoppers and crickets and frogs which enliven the night just before the wet season, and have so homely a note for the veldt dwellers."I don't think Mr. Blake likes him," Bobbie continued thoughtfully. "Did you know that they had met before?""They were quite likely to have done in one of the rebellions. Why don't you think Blake likes him?""I can hardly say, but when Sir James was here this morning, Mr. Blake spoke of him in a very sneering tone. He was quite different to his face this afternoon.""Was Blake here this morning?" asked Toby, with a sudden, quick note."Yes. He came to bring a paper and asked for a book. He said Sir James was not in the least likely to come our way. He also said he was sure there was no gold on his claim, and tonight he tells him he is sure there is.""Oh, that is only Blake's way! He never likes to admit anyone else has found anything good. Still, I think it is great cheek coming twice in one
day. Of course, it is only to see you, really. I wish you would stop him"--and there was a cloud in his sunny eyes."How can I stop him?"--laughing a little. "Shall I tell him you object?""It would only be the truth. I do object most distinctly. He may be all right as an occasional guest. In these parts we can't ask much about a man's antecedents, but, all the same, we all know Blake is a pretty hard case, to put it mildly, and there are some queer tales about him in the past. Probably Sir James knows of them, and that is why he seemed to greet him coldly. Sometimes, when he is watching you, I feel as if I could kill him. Of course he is in love with you; any child could see that. But he must know there is something between you and me, and it is thundering bad taste to stare at you as he does.""A cat may look at a king," she quoted lightly. "And why should he know there is anything between us? I have never told him, and I am sure Betty has not. She likes him even less than you do, if anything.""Still, he might very well guess." And there was a little smile on his lips, for he knew he wanted all the world to be aware of his devotion, and made no attempt to hide it."You know,"he continued, in a happier voice, "if there turns out to be gold here, as we all hope, it will be a splendid thing for my store. I've got quite the pick of the positions on the spot, and if there are lots of natives brought up to work the gold, I shall literally coin money. Directly we hear anything definite I will apply for land; and as soon as I have saved a little for stock and implements and a small house, I'll get the dear old governor to lend me some of the money he is going to leave me some day, and then we can get married and farm.""How jolly! I know I should love a farm. I shall want all the baby things for pets.""I wish it needn't seem so far off!" For a moment he was gloomy again. "I hate Blake to be paying you attentions meanwhile. He is so prosperous, drat him! His farm is one of the best in the country, and they say he has made a lot of money one way and another out here.""His attentions won't hurt me much"--seeking to rally him."Perhaps not. But he's devilish clever, and he cares a good deal--any fool could see that." He paused a moment, then added half shyly: "I wish you'd promise me not to have anything to do with


him. I feel a beast to ask it, but I really should feel happier. He is such an unscrupulous devil, and at the same time so attractive. I don't know what it is, but women are always taken with him.""And so you are afraid I shall forget everything I have said to you, and fall a victim to his charm and his devilry? Really, Toby!" said Bobbie, with feigned displeasure."No, I am not afraid of you, Bobbie. I am afraid of him. But if I had your promise not to have anything to do with him-- Last week you and Betty went to tea at his place. I simply hated it. I wished so much that you had made an excuse and stayed away.""Aren't you carrying it a little too far?"asked Bobbie, in a more serious tone. "After all, Betty and I are not what you call gay here in the wilderness, and even going out to tea is a sort of treat. Besides, we've often bee before.""I know you have. I can't tell you what a selfish beast I feel. But, before, Blake's admiration was not so pronounced; it is only lately it has become noticeable. I wish you wouldn't go. Any-how, promise me not to have anything more to do with him than you can help." His voice was very persuasive."All right," she replied, giving him a playful pat. "The dear boy shall be a tyrant and give his orders, if it pleases him. I'll try and bring myself into a becomimgly obedient frame of mind."He held her close, and kissed her again and again."If only I felt I might persuade you to be openly engaged to me! But, even if you were willing, I


know I mustn't do that. Why, I'm not even sure of sixty pounds a year!" And he tried to laugh lightly. "It doesn't make any difference," she said simply, looking with clear eyes into his. "I don't mind waiting for you, Toby. I happen to think it is worth while, you see. And I'll bear in mind your unchristian hatred of your neighbour, and keep him at arm's length.""You dear!" And he folded her in such an embrace that she was lost to sight until he released her."We must go back now," said Bobbie, smoothing her hair with a low, happy laugh. "Really, Toby, you seem to get bigger every day, or I get smaller. How awful if you turn into a giant!"When they got back to the huts, they found great discussion in progress concerning the plans for the next day. The two brothers and Betty had already arranged to go to Geegi one day in the week; but some information Sir James had given them about a visit of the magistrate, whom the men wanted to consult about their disputed claim, decided them that it would be wiser to try and get away the next day. Betty was going to get some necessaries for the household, and they would be obliged to go one day and return the next. It had already been arranged that a young colonial "occupying" land close by should sleep at the huts to guard Bobbie, and it only meant sending him a message to come the evening before the one appointed. Bobbie was not in the least afraid, but the unwritten law of South Africa sets its face resolutely against any white woman being left alone at night. Some white


man living near is always requisitioned to come over for the night, and, for various reasons, Kenneth and Bay preferred Hulatt to come, and not Toby or Blake."As Sir James wants to make an early start, if you don't mind, Bobbie," Kenneth said to her,
"we'll get away tomorrow, too. We ought to be back the next evening, and it is better for us to see Mr. Shute, if possible.""I don't mind in the least," Bobbie assured them. "I certainly think you are wise not to miss Mr. Shute, if you can help it.""I rather want to see him, too," said Toby. "If my bally bike will renovate sufficiently, I think I'll come in with you. I want to bespeak any new trading license going when the mines start." Finally it was arranged. They would all breakfast about daybreak, and then depart on their several journeys very early, leaving Bobbie in possession for the day. After which, they all turned in, Sir James sleeping in his own tent, and Toby upon the floor of the men's hut. He amused them considerably at the last moment by suddenly exclaiming: "By Jove, I forgot to lock the blooming store before I left! Lordy, what if it gets raided in the night!" Then he added, with a shrug of his shoulders : "Oh, well, it can't be helped! There's one thing, none of the niggers would suppose I should be such a bally idiot as to go away and leave it open, so I don't suppose they'll try the door.""I'm not so sure," was Bobbie's verdict. "It has been left open a good many times before, Toby.""Only in the daytime, and then it is left open for any likely buyer.""Does the buyer serve himself?" asked Sir James, looking amused."Yes. He leaves the money on the counter. It's a splendid tip, because he can't get change.""I expect you leave the till open, too," put in Betty."I dare say I should, if I had one"--laughing. "I haven't, as a matter of fact, run to one yet. If I make another five pounds this month I really must.""I'll send my carriers to buy from you," Sir James promised him. "They are northern boys, who like to spend, so you may make ten pounds instead of only five. How does your mother like the store?" he asked as an afterthought, remembering dimly the handsome, dignified lady General Fitzgerald had once introduced to him as his wife. "I hope you are not an only son ?""She doesn't like it at all!" Toby laughed affectionately at the
remembrance. "But she tries hard to see the humour of it; and anyhow, I am Benjamin. There are three of us, and I am odd man out--neither the beloved eldest nor the precious youngest. The dear old governor confines himself to hoping I sell good stuff and deal honestly with my black brothers.""I hope you didn't tell him about the cart grease you sold for medicine," Bobbie laughed. "Sixpence for a small bottleful," she added to Sir James, " for external use only! There was such a run on it that we had to let him have a little machine oil to eke it out. That's how we came to know.""I hope no one died ?" suggested Sir James."Died!" echoed Toby. "They all got well too

             
fast. That was the trouble. By the time I had procured another large tin of cart grease, they were all cured, and didn't want any more. But I dare say I'll get rid of it somehow," he added cheerfully. "I shall say it is another kind of medicine, and makes muscle in babies, well rubbed in.""Or why not brains in adults!" laughed Bay, as they passed into their hut for the night.CHAPTER VI.
BOBBIE'S PRESENTIMENT.To anyone living in the lonely districts of Rhodesia, it sometimes seems as if life had stood still altogether, and there was no progress whatever--no marked change of the seasons, no eagerly awaited summer holiday, no gay Christmastide-- chiefly a uniform colourness over everything. Often it is difficult to ascertain the day of the week; and, as for the hour, the guidance of the sun in the sky is near enough. When news filters through, it is often so old as to have lost its savour, though the lonely settlers devour a month-old newspaper with avidity, possibly because they have nothing else to read. This sameness and monotony naturally strike hardest at the women. The men have their change between work and leisure, between morning and evening, between week-days and Sunday. For the women it is all much the same--the same household worries every day, the same plucky, strenuous efforts to fill in hours that seem as if they did not want to be filled in, but just to drag. For the man there is almost always another man near. For the woman there is often no other woman within reach, except under difficulties which probably preclude all intercourse. If Bobbie and Betty seemed nearly always cheerful,

             
it was not that they were immune to the aching longing that sometimes undermines the very health of isolated women; but they were too spirited to give
way to it, and, moreover, possessed a rare gift of heartening each other. As Betty was engaged and likely to be married the following year, and was, still further, of a naturally dreamy disposition, she spent much of her leisure time fashioning garments for her trousseau and dreaming of her lover. Bobbie, on the other hand, liked life and action and vital interests, and often in the long, hot afternoons she ached to be up and doing something--anything- -so it seemed real and for the good of the world in general. At such times she could only rally herself vigorously, making a brave effort to be persuaded that the mere fact of helping to colonise a young colony was in its way a service. In this she was most certainly correct. It is surely among some of the finest services that women are able to give. But, alas! so often, seated alone, with little or nothing to do, and the heat and the silence all round, it is difficult not to feel one is but throwing away one's life and energy on a vain quest. Among one's fellows one might be actively useful. The role to "stand and wait" is so hard to the energetic soul. And yet, perhaps, for that very reason it is often the lot of women cast in an heroic mould. The small-minded woman, with small ideas and small hopes, cannot "stand and wait." An element of fuss and activity is necessary to her, though through it all she often achieves nothing beyond a little stir and commotion. It takes a large-souled woman to "stand and wait" patiently in the wilderness, upheld by far dreams of the prosperous


time that shall be in the future for those who come after her. Without this spirit, if she must needs stay, she will probably win to patience through an
apathetic numbness which causes her to become a mere machine, ministering to the wants of some man she is too apathetic to love or hate. But she is making a path, all the same, and perhaps the God of Understanding "takes the work for good, and lets good be." But the woman who refuses to grow apathetic, and manufactures interests and hobbies and occupations, and struggles to be cheerful and contented in a life that is manifestly robbing her of many of youth's natural joys and delights, is among the heroines of this twentieth century, and some day will win the recognition due to her. For this is emphatically the keenest colonising century we have yet known, and for that very reason there is a far greater demand upon the women to leave all the manifold interests of home life and take a long farewell of friends and scenes of childhood and girlhood, and go out to the silent places, sometimes with their lives in their hands, to help with the great movement of path-finding in the big, new countries across the sea for the great crowds that shall come after. So to Canada, Africa, Australia, the march has set in--the splendid, unheralded, untrumpeted march of the large-hearted women, ready to leave everything they have loved behind them for the sake of the future. God send the men everywhere chivalrous instincts of the highest order to help these women in all their difficulties and realise something of the trials that hit them particularly! For at home one may be more or less independent of one particular man calling in carpenters, plumbers

            
or obtaining mechanical appliances. But in the lonely districts there are none of these helps. One must do everything for oneself, making the barest necessaries suffice where all manufactured goods arc at ruinous prices. One must learn to glory in every "canny" contrivance of one's own manufacture. It is all part of the unsung service given to the splendid work of colonising and imperialism.To all these aspects Betty and Bobbie had adapted themselves from the first, discovering how to cope with the white ants that threatened to eat them out of house and home, the black ants that swarmed on to all the food and even into the beds, the borers that rained down fine dust from the roof all over the hut; how to cook with the fewest possible utensils; how to clean without knife powders and silver powders and fancy cleansing properties, making fine wood ash serve, because it cost nothing; how to make furniture out of packing-cases, and paint it for themselves; to darn and mend garments till there was little of the original left; to make butter in a bottle with no fancy appliances at all, provided they were lucky enough to secure the milk; even to mend old shoes and recover an old chair, and last, but not least, to superintend the re-thatching of their roof by the cook-boy, because no other boy could be spared from the mine. They also dug a garden and grew vegetables, in spite of the battalion of insects that lie in wait in Rhodesia to eat up every vegetable the moment it appears. They even reared chickens, in spite of rats and snakes and crows, which often eat them wholesale; but they had to give the little turkeys up in disgust, because they had not the sense to come in out of


the rain, and their mother would not bother to call them, and after being dried and revivified in a bake-pot twice over, they stood still to get drowned the third time. Bobbie thought they might have saved them if they had had an oven; but never having possessed anything so luxurious as a kitchen-stove, but accomplished all cooking in three-legged Kaffir bake-pots upon the floor, they decided to "give the turkeys best," and be satisfied in future with barn-door fowls, or such of them as they could contrive to rear. The mother turkey, therefore, graced a banquet they gave at Christmas to all the lonely men round, and to which each guest contributed an item on the menu. It was a memorable banquet, and deserves a mention in passing. Toby produced a small sucking-pig as part of his contribution. He said the mother had overlain it on the veldt near his store; but, when questioned, he appeared to be extraordinarily vague as to the whereabouts of the mother and the scene of the tragedy and in the end the tale collapsed in laughter by Blake exclaiming: "Well, if the mother was near Somari's kraal, it must have been my sow and my sucking-pig, because I am having them herded there.""Well, she wasn't," said Toby promptly. "She was south-west of it.""In uninhabited country-mostly marsh?""South-west of the marsh," asserted Toby."A matter of six miles or so, in rocky kopjes?" --pressing him."Anyhow, the blinking blighter who had stolen it said the mother overlaid it," he blurted out, "and there's a deal too much looking gift horses in the mouth about this banquet!""I thought it tasted like one of mine," said Blake, amid the general laughter. "Anyhow, Toby "--good-naturedly--" we won't ask questions about the oranges. We know no one grows them for miles round except myself, and these are freshly picked.""They blew off in the storm and rolled down the hill clean into the store," said the culprit, perfectly unperturbed. "Don't eat any if you don't fancy them bruised."But to speak again of the colourlessness and monotony of the lives of the dwellers on the outskirts, and Bobbie's and Betty's share therein; Bobbie, in spite of her love for Toby, felt keenly conscious of them as she lay down to sleep that night. To meet a man like Sir James had been an unprecedented treat, and she knew that, after he had gone again on the morrow, the old monotony would close down and the old worries re-grip them with renewed force. At last, wondering if anything of absorbing interest could ever happen at all in that out-of-the-world spot, or if she would just go on waiting for years for Toby to make enough to marry on, she fell asleep, little indeed dreaming that she was on the eve of happenings that might shake the whole country.The next morning there was a good deal of bustle over the various departures, the brothers' town- going clothes having to be hunted up, and sandwiches cut to eat on the long drive, and the very last items added to Betty's list for the store. Sir James left first, after making a hearty breakfast at sunrise, while his carriers took down his tent and packed his things."I'm sorry I cannot stay and keep you company today," he said to Bobbie, "but I am already a day late, and I must try to get back to Lobenwayo in a fortnight for affairs of State. A poor, unfortunate politician is not given much peace in Rhodesia.""I wish you could," she answered him frankly. "I would put off washing those blouses yet another day.""Or perhaps I could help you! I've washed a shirt before now. I had to do it myself to economise the soap. It was half a crown for about two square inches, and I daren't trust it out of my sight, much less let a nigger use it.""You are not going through to the mine until tomorrow, I think you said?" one of the brothers asked him."No. I shall camp near Shagann's kraal tonight, and do a little business with him before going on.""That is only about ten miles away," Bobbie remarked, "by the path through the kopjes.""About that. But, if I get my trading done today, I can make an early start in the morning."A little later he thanked them all most warmly for the hospitality they had shown him, promising to come again on his return journey, and started away up the track.Then the four best of the span of donkeys were harnessed to the little utility cart, and Betty and Ken prepared to depart on it, accompanied by Bay on his bicycle. Toby had arranged to meet them on the road, as it was rather out of his way to come back to the huts."I've had a message from Hulatt, "Ken said to


Bobbie, as they were starting." He will come over this evening. We will get back as soon as we can tomorrow.""Don't hurry for me," she assured them. "I shall be quite all right. I have a lot to do, and a scrumptious book to read. I shall expect you when I see you."Nevertheless, there was a vague shadow in her eyes as she watched them drive away--the shadow of some vague, intangible presentiment oppressing her. She felt that something was going to happen; and yet, as she looked round on the dreaming, sunbathed scene, it seemed impossible that anything ever should happen in that particular spot. For nearly a year now, had she not seen it with just that remote, impersonal, sleeping air, like a world that had ceased to progress, a world given over to torpor. In the wet season for a little while it had been green, and the skies clear and beautiful, but for the most part there had been rank grass drying to colourlessness, and smoke-hazed skies and horizons from veldt fires--for the smoke of fires will travel many miles, and hang over the land immense distances away from the fire, and a haze may last many days--but so often, except when the splendid storms chased each other across the skies and broke in fury overhead, there was that sense of sameness and uneventful monotony. Whence, then, came this feeling of unrest? Why did she vaguely wish that it had not been this day, of all days, that they should go away and leave her? What was this presentiment oppressing her? She moved away to their little bit of cultivated land, hidden by some trees and the cane partition, thinking to occupy


herself for a little with the flowers and vegetables, before the sun grew too hot.When at last she returned, she was amazed to hear voices talking by their sitting-room hut, and stood still a moment, peering through the screen to see who could possibly be thus holding a conversation, apparently of a somewhat confidential nature, at such an hour, in such a spot. To her astonishment, she beheld Blake and with him an uncouth-looking Dutchman with a villainous appearance that he did not seem to wish to conceal.And as she stood with a puzzled air, hesitating to go forward, he exclaimed mutteringly: "I don't know what the deuce you brought me here for! It would look odd enough if anyone saw us. I'd better get away quickly, and meet you later at your place to tell you the latest plans.""All right. I only wanted to make sure that Fortescue had really gone, and that he was taking my advice about camping by Shagann's kraal." As he said this, Bobbie instantly became all alert. Her senses quickened by the presentiment troubling her; she immediately divined some ill to Sir James was intended, and, casting all thoughts of eavesdropping away, listened with every sense strained to hear anything that was said."Now we have seen his boy," Blake went on, "and know that he has gone straight there, we have all the information we need. You can go on, bit I must stay a minute and talk to Miss Glynn, to explain our call and put her off the scent.""Very well. I'll be at your place about half-past eleven, and I must be off again soon after twelve. I simply must be seen at Loma during the afternoon,


to bury our tracks. But that will give us time to discuss terms," replied the other, with an ugly look."Very well. As Miss Glynn hasn't seen you here, I won't mention it, or I can easily make out you were someone else. If you take that path through the trees, you will come into the track lower down."For one moment Bobbie thought she would show herself; but the growing conviction that some desperate game was afoot decided her swiftly to try and fight them with their own weapons, and conceal the fact that she had overheard their conversation. With a quick, light step she returned to the garden, hidden by the trees, and waited there until Blake came to look for her, divining that the boy must have told him where she was.CHAPTER VII. 
BLAKE IS PLEASED WITH HIMSELF.BOBBIE had not many minutes to wait in her vegetable garden before she heard Blake's step beside her and, looking up in feigned astonishment, she exclaimed: "Hullo I You here?"Blake coloured the tiniest bit as he answered "glibly: "I came over hoping to catch Sir James before he left. I wanted to ask him if he could give me the address of a man who served under him at the same time I did, whom I have since lost sight of. I find I am too late. The bird has flown. No matter--I can see him as he comes back.""I wonder you did not see him as you came; he could not have got far.""I was probably looking the other way, to point out the direction to a man who stopped me. He was looking for Loma. I brought him on to your place and pointed out the road from your stoep, as it is so plainly visible. I never imagined they would all have gone so early."All the time he was speaking, Bobbie was conscious of a bold admiration growing in his eyes, and because she believed he dared to look at her so because he had found her alone, her soul grew hot with resentment. Yet, for the sake of the sentences she had


overheard, she dare not show it, but felt constrained rather to show him encouragement, in hopes that it might prove a weapon to help her to thwart his scheme. In the few minutes that she awaited him in the garden, her mind had swiftly gripped the ill purport of the muttered conversation. Evidently some harm or some wrong was intended to Sir James, and the nature of it was to be discussed at Blake's place at half-past eleven that morning. To discover their plans, she must needs overhear that conversation. But how achieve such an object as that? How could she possibly conceal herself anywhere near enough to hear a word? And yet with every second the certainty grew that it was all-important she should know what was said at that final discussion. Then Blake came, and his sinister eyes boldly looked their admiration, and she knew instinctively that she must use him as her tool."So you are going to be alone all day?" he said, coming a step nearer. "I'm afraid you will be very lonely.""But I've been alone before," she answered lightly. "It isn't a new thing.""That needn't make you like it any better," he retorted, adding:
"It is getting rather hot for you to garden. Don't you think it would be wiser to come in?""I was just coming." And she turned towards the huts. "It means daily warfare with pests to grow any vegetables here, doesn't it""I've given up trying," said Blake, as they walked along together. "I spent pounds on seeds, and never grew anything at all. Now I buy all my

 
vegetables from a coolie. He brings them once a week.""Oh, we manage to grow something! It is only that they need a great deal of attention." They reached the huts, and Bobbie sat down on the, shady seat where Sir James had sat on his arrival, and though she purposely took up as much room as she could, as a hint to Blake to take a chair, he coolly seated himself beside her. Then he leaned his arm on the back of the seat and looked hard into her face. Bobbie felt herself inwardly shrinking, but bravely held her ground and assumed as indifferent an air as she could muster. Under ordinary circumstances she would have openly flouted him ; but the strange presentiment still held her, and she felt herself fighting an unseen foe that would need all her skill and resource. Blake was perfectly aware that she shunned him less than usual, and, knowing nothing of what was in her mind, judged that, like most women, when he made up his mind to conquer them, she was beginning to feel the force of his will. It made him smile a little to himself. To him women were all such feeble creatures before a man with strong, virile personality. If he took the trouble to look back, he saw conquest most of the way, strong and weak alike coming into his net eventually, to be cast ruthlessly aside when he wearied of them. Yet up to that moment he had felt that Bobbie Glynn was different from the rest. She had more of the man in her than most women, and met him more on his own ground. Sometimes he had even wondered concerning his success in the end, and that was a very new experience for him; and for that very

reason he only coveted her the more, awaking to a new zest in life, because there was something he eagerly desired still left to conquer. That Toby was a serious obstacle scarcely entered his mind. He knew perfectly well that they were special friends, and for that very reason delighted to annoy Toby by paying Bobbie every possible attention when he was present. But he also knew that the aristocratic young store-keeper had only the barest means of livelihood, and could not hope for much from home. He gave Bobbie credit for too much sense seriously to consider waiting for him, and half thought she was playing with Toby a little, to amuse herself and possibly to annoy him. Presently, of course, she would get tired of living in huts in the wilderness, and then she would be ready to go back his own hour of conquest to dawn, in which he would carry her off in triumph to his own nice house. That his intentions towards her were honest was no small thing. They had never been honest to any woman before. True, he had promised marriage more than once, but always he had managed to slip away at the crucial moment, and gaily changed his name and began afresh elsewhere. But if Bobbie gave him the chance to make any promises to her, he meant to keep them. He wanted to marry her. In some way she had touched a spot in his adamantine heart that no other woman had touched, and he was surprised at his own desire to possess her by all the bonds possible. He liked her slim, boyish grace, her quickness of repartee, her courage and determination. He even in some paradoxical way liked her distrust an indifference to himself. It


added a savour to the chase. It marked her as an original to a certain extent. She not only was not' conquered by his admitted attractiveness, but she made no attempt to hide that she was not. Yet he felt dimly that, once won, she would be no light lover, but would be such a life companion as no man need mind being bound to. But withal he was in no hurry. To appear too keen would have seemed to him a sign of weakness. He would win her in his own way, playing a little, as she, and then sweeping her off her feet at the right moment.Yet, as they sat by the huts that morning, he observed instantly that her manner was less defensive than usual. She sat very still and did not repulse him, and the blood began to flow a little quicker in his veins. It crossed his mind that her more amenable mood might have something to do with a disagreement with Toby, but in any case he saw that he might make capital out of it, and meant not to be behindhand."You are not so busy this morning as usual?" he questioned lightly; for usually she told him she had too much to do to waste time gossiping with him in the morning."No," she answered frankly. "There is no food to worry about, for one thing. An egg will suit me as well as anything for lunch, and that does not require much preparation.""Why not lunch with me?" The invitation escaped him suddenly. For the moment he had almost forgotten the Dutchman. His swift brain saw a golden opportunity, and with characteristic speed he grasped it.For an instant Bobbie was a little taken aback.Past circumstances made the invitation so daring.She had never for one moment given him any reason to suppose that she would visit him alone at his house under any pretext whatever. At the same time in a flash she saw that it might be a means to her end which she dare not ignore." What would Betty say, and the boys?" she asked, speaking in a half-flippant way. "What a startling confession to have to make!""What confession? What has it to do with them? Surely a woman of your character has grit enough to act for herself?""I don't know about that. Besides, I don't know that I want to come. I've a few things I want to do this morning.""Well, do them first," said Blake persuasively. "I have a little business to attend to also. I must get back at half-past eleven, but I shall be free by half past twelve. Come then; it will be a change. God knows you get little enough in these damn mud huts!"Bobbie attempted to smile naturally. "Don't make rude remarks about my home. I am very fond of it.""Rats! As If Any Girl Of Your Spirit Is Going To Be Content To Live in a mud hut in a God-forsaken spot like this, beside a God-forsaken mine that doesn't even pay well enough to buy a bottle of whisky!""There's a bottle in the sitting-room now, if it is whisky you are wanting," she retorted. "It's a little early, but there is no accounting for tastes. Shall I get you some?""You know I didn't mean that. Why do you always twist my meaning? It is only your happiness I am thinking of. And I say it is all bosh to suppose a reasonable young woman of spirit can stand a life like this. An old frump with half a dozen children, who might as well be dressed in sackcloth as anything else, is all right, but it's monstrous to expect it of you.""And who does expect it? I'm here absolutely of my own free will. I'm here because I like it, so is Betty.""If you had a good horse to ride, and a motor to get to town, and a decent cook, it would be different," he argued, running on. "I think you really would like it then; but now you are just acting."She turned and looked at him, smiling with an effort at frankness. "You seem suddenly very interested in my affairs. Why all this palaver?""I've always been interested." It was on his tongue to say more, but he realised that he might easily lose the ground he seemed to have gained, and he badly wanted her to come to lunch. "I've been interested in you and your sister ever since you arrived. I think you're about the pluckiest girls I know. But at the same time I say it isn't natural. Well, will you come and have lunch today?""What will Mrs. Grundy say?""Bother Mrs. Grundy I As if anyone cared for her out here! She's pretty out of date in England, but here she hasn't even been born, and she never will be. People doing the work of the outposts have quite enough trials to cope with, without


bothering their heads about conventions and all that rot. Come, show your independence, and take enjoyment where you can get it, like a sensible woman.""But having never tried it, how do I know that it will prove enjoyment?"All the time that Bobbie was purposely prevaricating she was trying to make up her mind what to do. She saw instantly that the invitation offered her a chance to unravel the mysterious scheme she had accidentally lit upon, but she remembered also the promise she had given to Toby not to have anything to do with Blake that she could possibly help. If she actually went to lunch with him, and there proved no good reason for it, would have the same faith in her again? Would he even forgive her? She knew that, in any case, the incident could not be hidden from him, for in their little community everything was quickly known. And, after all, what was Sir James Fortescue to her, that she should run any risk for him whatever? Was not perhaps the whole matter a figment of her own imaginings, and she the prey of fancy? While she sat there beside the man she hated and just a little dreaded, outwardly calm and collected, her whole mind was seething inwardly, and her will driven this way and that."I think you will enjoy it all right," said Blake meaningly, in reply to her challenge. "I'll take care of that." Then he tried to twit her. "I believe you're afraid. You're imagining dangers of wild beasts or something of that kind. Or perhaps it is I you dread?" He gave a low laugh

 
that almost nettled her out of her coolness. "Say,little girl, are you afraid of me?""Horribly!" She spoke with a slight sneer purposely, which he rather enjoyed. "But I never thought you would find it out!"They both laughed, and he added: "Since,obviously, you are not afraid of me, what is it? There is no one else there, and I won't allow you could be so feeble as to be afraid of Mrs. Grundy.""I'm not yet convinced that I want to come--that it is worth while. Now, if Sir James there--"The man's face darkened instantly, and the suddenness of the remark threw him off his guard."Sir James!" he echoed, with a note of derision. "And what do you want with a smooth-spoken lady-killer like that? Goodness knows, they're common enough--and dull enough. I give you credit for better taste. Success hasn't improved him. We always thought him a bit soft in the early days, but now he's a positive old woman!""You seemed very affable to him, if he is"--with a swift flash."Only because it obviously pleased him and didn't hurt me. I always give people what they want--and seem to expect--if it is no trouble and no inconvenience. Why, the man simply mops up adulation--anyone can see!""I wonder he isn't tired of it," said Bobbie with sarcasm. "He seems to get more than most people in Rhodesia." "That's only because some of them are afraid of him. He happens to be rather popular just now.


But he isn't really a strong man; anyone will tell you that.""I thought he appeared decidedly a strong man. Why do you sneer at him so? Are you jealous, or have you an old score against him?"Blake flushed angrily. "Of course I'm not jealous. I wouldn't be a nincompoop like that for anything. I could tell you things about him in the war"She waited, and he added darkly: "I don't like the man, because I think he's a self-satisfied, sanctimonious hypocrite; but he'll strike a snag before long that will burst his gas-bag for him, and then let's hope a better man will step into his shoes." For a moment he stared away from her to the horizon, and Bobbie, seeing the hate in his eyes, felt all her misgivings come back with redoubled force. She felt more certain than ever that there was some plan of harm, and immediately her mental questioning concerning her part in the matter ceased. For Rhodesia's sake, for Sir James's own sake, for everyone's sake, she would use every means in her power to thwart the ill if she could. She rose to her feet with a careless air, half of dismissal, remarking, "Well, I suppose certain household things require to be done, even if I am alone, and you have business to attend to.""Yes," replied Blake, with almost a fierce note. "But what about our little luncheon?"Suddenly he felt he wanted her overwhelmingly, and that she should come. He was not a man to be thwarted, and he would not be thwarted now.Bobbie tossed her head lightly. "Oh, well,


perhaps I'll consider it when the household things are done!""You're the coolest young woman I ever met!" he exclaimed, not without a note of admiration."But, now you have gone so far, you had better turn up. If not, I shall come' back and fetch you."She laughed lightly. "That sounds as if you proposed to drag me by the hair. Don't do that. I haven't much. It comes out so in this country.""Then say you'll come," he urged, with a resolute look in his eyes."All right," said Bobbie, turning away, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I'll come, if I don't change my mind again before twelve o'clock."CHAPTER VIII.
THE VILLAINY OF VAN TYL.WHEN William Van Tyl slouched away from the Glynns' huts, leaving Blake behind, the scowl upon his face, that had seemed to Bobbie ugly enough; grew uglier still, and he gave voice to some mutterings that were curses upon the head of Sir James Fortescue. And when a desperate Dutchman curses an English-man, it is likely enough that trouble is in store for the latter. For some fifteen years now Van Tyl had borne in his heart a great hatred of the brave soldier, who had not only stopped a monstrous game which he contrived to carry on during the war, but had brought him to boot and had him punished for it. Wrongful looting, carried on systematically, had been the chief part of it; but he had also cleverly obtained information, which he sold to the Boers, had ill-treated unoffending natives, and had finally been caught in the act of abducting a young English girl. It was Sir James's opinion, and that of several others at the trial, that he ought to be shot, but the failure to discover one important witness resulted in a term of fourteen years' imprisonment. A year previously he had been released and had gone back into the world vowing vengeance upon the man who caused his capture, and upon


the accomplice who, at the time of the trial, had given some information against him to save himself. That accomplice was Harry Blake.The circumstances that brought Van Tyl into the neighbourhood of these two men he hated, in a lonely part of Rhodesia, at this particular time, were curious. While he had been in prison, his brother and only relative had died. This brother had been prospecting in Rhodesia, and, among other claims, by a strange chance had pegged one adjoining sir James's on Loka Kopje. before he he had written an account of his claims for his brother , who would inherit them when he came out of prison. Concerning the Loka one he had written:"There is every indication of gold, but most of it lies on the next claim, which takes all the top of the hill." Then, being scarcely less of a villain than his brother, he had added the significant sentence, knowing that he would understand: "If the lower claim is worked first the other may be undermined unconsciously."Because William Van Tyl possessed a positive relish for dark dealing, the idea of secretly undermining the adjoining claim and taking the other man's gold had a greater attraction for him than that of legitimately working a less valuable claim, and perhaps putting in a great deal of labour for very small returns. So he journeyed to Loka to investigate his property. Here two great surprises awaited him--one that the other claim belonged to the man he regarded as his greatest enemy, and hated more than anything else in the world; and the other that Harry Blake was a prosperous farmer in the vicinity. To say that both discoveries gave him


great joy were to put it too mildly. It is probable that nothing could have given him greater. For some little time he camped near his claim, fraternising with the low class of niggers at Shagann's kraal, and meditating on what form of revenge he would like best to take. Then one day, on the hill-top, old Shagann himself--a nigger chief with one of the worst reputations in Mashonaland--gave him his cue. He pointed to the pegs distinguishing the boundaries, and said:"Why not move pegs? Bring the pegs of the Inkaas to the top of the hill, and half the gold is his, and no further trouble.""That's all very well," said the Dutchman, "but the other man must know where he put his pegs." Nevertheless, a sudden gleam came into his eyes as, with an ugly leer, he added: "Unless the other man were safely out of the way for good--eh?"He went back to his camp meditating on the new line of thought the lawless old nigger had given him, and before very long he came to see a line of revenge that might not only satisfy his hatred, but make him a rich man into the bargain, if circumstances made it possible for him to carry it out.With Blake he remained undecided a little longer as to what course he would pursue; but in the end he saw that he might need an accomplice to carry out the larger vengeance, and decided to blackmail him into being his tool. To this end he gave Blake the worst half-hour of his life by presenting himself suddenly and stating that he had come back to settle old scores. Blake was perfectly aware that he had a desperate character to deal with,


and, though he made a brave show of indifference, he was instantly all alert to the situation. How in the world Van Tyl had managed to find him remained a mystery until the Loka claim was mentioned, and Blake grasped the fact that he had inherited the property from the dead prospector, who chanced to be his brother. It was thus that Sir James Fortescue's name was brought up.Now, as it happened, Blake knew something the Dutchman did not know, and that was that Sir James had been aware of his, Blake's, complicity in the crimes for which the other was sentenced, but that, through the clever and timely removal of the necessary witness, he was unable to prove what he knew according to a court of law. Consequently the Englishman got off scot free, though, like the condemned man, to carry in his heart a deadly hatred of the man who had found him out. Very little was said between them, and Blake had been acquitted, but he knew perfectly well that Sir James could even now give information that would turn every honest man against him, though it might not interfere with his liberty. After some years of prosperity in Rhodesia, finding they did not clash,nor were likely to do so, his active hatred fell fell somewhat into abeyance, until he fell in love with Bobbie Glynn, and presently realised that one word from the eminent politician should they chance to meet, might certainly turn her against him for ever.It was just at this juncture that Van Tyl appeared upon the scene, not only to increase greatly his danger of detection, but to fan into a new flame his slowly-awakening hate. After the first half-


hour, however, he realised that he had not much to fear from the Dutchman himself, except a shot in the back, for a girl like Bobbie was very unlikely to believe the word of a released criminal of such a type, without the proofs which he lacked. But Sir James was quite another matter, and he foresaw that danger lay ahead. He knew that he was unlikely ever to tell unless he had a special reason; and, to thwart this, Blake determined to play a bold game if he ever came their way, en route for his property at Loka, and thus met Bobbie Glynn upon friendly terms.Then Van Tyl came, and a common hatred won for the Dutchman the help he wanted, without the need to blackmail for the present. Moreover, even if Van Tyl achieved his evil project, he possessed very little money to work his claim, and it might prove a dangerous move to let an outsider come in as partner. If Blake were willing to put up the money he needed, and take a share, it relieved him of a great deal of worry; and in view of this he would be willing to let bygones be bygones as far as he was concerned.For the rest, the claims lay in so lonely and remote a district, that it was probable no one but Sir James himself actually knew the position of his pegs, and therefore, if he were once out of the way, the road was practically clear for the accomplices to take all the gold and become rich men. And, still further, the remoteness of the district rendered possible a secret crime, even in the case of a well-known man. Van Tyl knew perfectly how to work upon the credulity of raw Mashonas, especially of such a type as those in Shagann's kraal, and, while


promising them all sorts of benefits, he would in reality take care that the entire blame fell upon them, and work to get the whole kraal punished, while the real perpetrator got off unsuspected. He knew well enough that, in the early days, crimes had been laid to the charge of natives, of which they were wholly innocent; and afterwards it would be stated that a white man had vanished, for no better reason perhaps than a drunken brawl among some notoriously lawless blacks.Of course, things were no longer possible as then, near any civilised centre, but out in the wilds a clever, unscrupulous man might yet work his will and nothing be brought home to him at all.In the midst of all this dark planning, came the news that Sir James was even then on his way to Loka kopje, attended only by native carriers. Van Tyl was in his camp at the time, but the message he received from Blake brought him over at night to ascertain the truth of the news. That evening there had been a memorable scene between the two accomplices. At the last moment Blake found he had more conscience than he supposed, and announced his intention of drawing back. "We must find some other way," he declared. "The days for deeds of that sort are past.""H'm! Showing the white feather!" sneered the Dutchman. "Or have you suddenly grown pious?""Neither," said Blake curtly. "This is your dirty work. Do it yourself."Van Tyl spat upon the floor and gave an evil grin."Perhaps you'd like it better if I had a little private talk with Sir James Fortescue and this Miss Glynn


here first? Gor bless me, d'ye think I aint' got eyes in me head?"--and his grin widened. "I might make you the mouse first, and have me bit o' fun with you, then settle up with his lordship later.""You're a damn cur!" snarled Blake, knowing himself in a trap."I don't know as I'm any worse than I was fifteen years ago, and you grabbed your share of the swag all right then.""I needed it then.""Well, and I need it now. What's more, Mr. High-and-Mighty, you're going to help me, or I'll cook your little hash for you all right.""I've told you I will put up the money.""And what's the good o' that if all the bloomin' gold belongs to the top claim? It's 'alf the top o' that hill we want, before there's talk of money." I thought it was chiefly vengeance," said Blake sneering in his turn."To get 'em both, and all, so to speak, at once," answered Van Tyl coolly, "is like what the good folks call a direct dispensation of Providence-- ha, ha!""It would give me greater pleasure to send you to the devil.""I dare say. But too much pleasure ain't good for us, and that's a journey I'm not taking at present. If it suited my book, I dare say I could send you to the devil without much trouble," he added pointedly; "but if I can get that top claim, and settle old scores with Fortescue, I'd as soon see you decking Miss Glynn out in jewels as anyone else."Blake stared out of the window of his sitting-


room gloomily, and, after once more expectorating forcibly, Van Tyl went on: "All I want you to do ' at present, as far as I know, is to work things so that Fortescue camps by the river near Shagann's kraal, on his way to the claims. Surely you can do that to oblige an old pal?"--leering." And how is it going to help you if I do?""You can leave the rest to me. Those pegs haven't been inspected
for a longish time, and I dare bet my bottom Kruger shilling that no
one but Fortescue knows where they are. It suits me to move them and
say nothing about it. Therefore Fortescue has got to get out of the
way before ever he sets foot on Loka kopje. What's more, it's got to
be done very neatly, so as to look as if them scoundrel niggers did it, and that's where you've got to help.""Has it entered this clever head of yours that, if anything happened to a man like Fortescue,there'd be a hue and cry throughout the land? He's a leader, and all the settler community swears by him. They're pretty dangerous devils when roused.""Yes," replied Van Tyl, cynically. "They'll probably raze the kraal to the ground, with the niggers in it"--and he laughed. "But, for me, it's only another good reason to finish him. What business has he to thwart my race and say they shan't have Rhodesia? To pour ridicule on my native tongue, and give it as a reason for keeping Rhodesia out of the Union? We're top dog now. We're God's chosen people, and if we want this d--d country for all our poor settlers and for our people generally, what right 'as 'e got to get up an' tell the people, picture included in body of Page's "The Pathway"
of Rhodesia it ain't worth while, and to back 'em for all 'e's
worth--to say they'll keep independent till they sees fit to do,
otherwise? I reckon I'm doin' my country a service in putting him out
o' the way. I know there's them in power down south as wouldn't fret when they heard the news. He's a stumbling-block--that's what he is--and them as moves stumbling-blocks is doin' a public good. So you can ease that conscience o' yours by lookin' at it that way.""And do you think I want to hand the country over to a lot of lazy Boers?""I don't think you care a d-- about the country either way." And
that Blake knew he was probably right. At the moment he did not care
about anything much except winning Bobbie Glynn. As if he could read
exactly what was passing in Blake's mind, Van Tyl continued:"All you darned well care about just now is that Miss Glynn; and what you've got to do is to clear Fortescue out of the way before matters come to a head and give him a chance to tell her what he knows about you. Sure as he comes up here, he'll go to their shanty. And, maybe, when he is there, he will cut you out," he finished, grinning. "Anyhow,its up to us_, both, if we're any bloomin' good, to clear him out of our paths."A good deal more of similar eloquence fell from discharged criminal's lips, and in the end Blake agreed to run into Sir James Fortescue somewhere on his route, find out his plans, and recommend him to camp at Shagann's kraal. Thereby his own private hatred would be satisfied, his risk of detection for bygone sins greatly diminished, and nothing


between himself and Bobbie except the boyish, impecunious Toby, and her own indifference-- both of which--such was Blake's conceit--seemed to him but trifles easily to be overcome.So it chanced that Blake haunted the Glynns' camp during Sir James's short visit, and was hovering round again, when Van Tyl found him, the morning of the general exodus. As he went towards his home after winning Bobbie's casual consent to lunch with him, he wished to goodness Van Tyl had told him what he wanted to, then and there, instead of coming to see him again at half-past eleven. His haste was only due to his careful plans to be seen in certain directions, upon some vague pretext which, in case of trouble, would more or less help him to prove an alibi; but, as it did not happen to fit in with Blake's plans, he failed to see the good of it. "However," as he assured himself, "I can easily get him started away again by half-past twelve, and then--"His cogitation stopped short. The mere notion that Bobbie was
coming alone to his Kia almost transfixed him, so sudden a change it was from her usual indifferent treatment of him. His blood quickened and glowed as his mind ran backwards and forwards over every aspect of the case, and he told himself it was his lucky star, that made it possible to get rid of his enemy on the very eve of her relenting. Then, with a fiendish chuckle, he muttered: "How I wish Fitzgerald would just walk in and find us!"CHAPTER IX.
BOBBIE MAKES PLANSAs soon as Blake's form had vanished in the distance, and Bobbie found herself alone, some of her bravado failed her. The scarp of conversation she had overheard might mean so much or so little information to impart, would he not secretly think she must be mad to come upon such an errand? The one thing necessary seemed to her that she should endeavour to find out what the Dutchman said to Blake at their morning interview and afterwards, if necessary, act promptly. Then a great dread seized her. How should she, a mere girl, accomplish such an end? She wished passionately that they had not all chanced to go away that day, of all days, and leave her to face the dangerous situation alone. If only even Toby had not gone, she could have walked to his store in plenty of time, and he would have advised and helped her. But Toby had said he should go to town with others, and if she went on but a slender chance


of finding him, she might only waste valuable time, to no purpose. It was this coming night that Sir James was to camp at Shagann's kraal, and tomorrow might be too late to thwart his enemies. Standing irresolute and distressed in the hut door, Bobbie felt herself for the moment overwhelmingly alone. For miles all round her she knew there were no habitations except those of natives. Wherever she looked blue mists of heat and smoke hung over bush and veldt that was mostly uninhabited country. Somewhere away to the north there were wilderness towns of mushroom growth, where people dwelt in some numbers in a civilised community. Somewhere down south, many days' journey, was the great country of South Africa and the majestic sea. Between them, appallingly alone, she seemed to stand as some midget upon a vast island of uncultivated veldt. Around the island flowed the spreading ocean of civilisation, filling in ' slowly the creeks and inlets, but in this great hour of need it was too far off to be of any help to her, its very farness producing the desperate situation in which she found herself.For she well knew that, if she attempted to foil the plans of Blake and Van Tyl and failed, their situation would be such, through the fact of her knowledge, that they might well wreak vengeance upon her also. If she contrived to gain enough information to hang them both, and was discovered before she could act upon it, what mercy could she expect from two ruffians knowing their game was up, and that it was her doing? But even while, with a natural shrinking, she remembered this, her will never faltered in its determination

to try and baulk any possible attempt to harm Sir James. She looked out over the far blue kopjes she had learnt to love, and she knew in her heart that she was willing, if necessary, to give her life for them. And she knew also that, in saving Sir James, she might indeed be doing this, for the land needed him. At this hour, of all others, Rhodesia had need of upright, fearless, clear-seeing men. Big questions in her life and history loomed ahead, were drawing nearer month by month, and only such men as these might save from becoming the prey of the speculator, the financier, the time-server, and the mean-souled man of self-interests. Those who should have guarded her welfare first and fore-most in England-- what had they done that was not tainted with the commercial spirit? What would they do in the future, unless more power was given to the hardy settler community? As far as they were concerned, who could honestly declare a day dawn when, for their own ends, they would not hand her over to the South African union to have the Dutch language taught in her schools, and the lowest class of Dutch settler Gil established over her wide reaches? In very truth, every strong man possible, who genuinely loved the country, was needed now, and, above them all, the man who was born to lead.Bobbie did not have time to stop and think all this,but it was in her mind, engrafted by a thoughtful nature, and she was conscious of it as she made her plans. Once only she faltered again, and that was at the recollection of Toby. To achieve anything at all she must break her word to him. She knew, of course, that he could only exonerate her absolutely,


but a vague dread made her wish she could have served Sir James in any other way. Toby would understand, but it might lie between them, and she would have to endure Blake's hateful attentions under circumstances that could but make them more unendurable than ever. How strange it seemed that, away there in the wilderness, this thing should have come into her life, breaking through the monotony, scattering the sameness, with so sudden and unexpected a blow! Well, the sameness, when it hurt most, had found her with a warrior spirit to combat its depression. This sudden hour of swift happening must find her no less armed for whatever it required of her. So, finally, her plans were made. She would go to lunch with Blake, as she had half promised, but she would arrive before time,and would endeavour to conceal herself where she could overhear their conversation. Provided she got there unnoticed, she knew this would not be difficult, for the house was surrounded by low, bushy trees, in which one could easily hide, and voices, either from the stoep or sitting-room, would carry there. Moreover, Blake's kitchen was well away and well hidden, so there was small risk of a boy detecting her if she approached through the trees. She would then watch her opportunity to appear as if she had just arrived, for she felt she dared not risk returning at once, lest he came to look for her and discovered where she had been. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she went in at once and put on a green linen dress, least likely to be distinguishable among trees, and started away through the bush unattended.In the meantime, still with his mind full of her visit, Blake
tidied up his little Kia and gathered some roses for the table. When Van Tyl arrived he found him spotless in white drill, and smirked with a meaning grin:"Is the fair one coming into the lion's den?"--glancing from the white garments to the roses. "She must be a pretty fly young woman.""What do you mean?" Blake inquired angrily. "Kindly leave Miss Glynn out of the conversation.""No harm meant" --still grinning. "But, lord, this game of mine must suit your plans uncommonly well! I seem to have come at an opportune time to look at my claims. But I assure you it was quite unitentional. I had far more notion of giving you a stray bullet!""I can quite believe it, But don't forget two can play at the game, Where there's one stray bullet, there are easily two.""Yes,but I guess the first one matters most, and it is the most likely to swing a man. How's that going to help you?"Blake shrugged his shoulders. "Well, what do you want to say to me? Get on with it. I'm going out at half-past twelve.""So am I, my friend. I'm slipping across country to have a casual yarn with the police at Loma. I'm going to bicycle like the devil to within a mile, and then stroll up casually. During the yarn I shall tell them I don't like the tone of Shagann's kraal, and that a few nights back I believe they meant to murder me, if I hadn't been too sharp for them. I shall bluster a bit about the bad policy of a kraal like that being left in such an unprotected


district, and suggest that, as gold is likely soon to be worked there, they had better find out from headquarters if one of them should have a camp handy. Do you see my drift? Afterwards, I shall allow myself the luxury of saying: 'I told you so.'"Even as he talked, Blake felt a deepening loathing i of the man and everything about him; but, like a beast in a trap, he could only snarl--his loathing availed him nothing. For to thwart van Tyl now was to lose Bobbie at the very hour when he saw success in sight, and believed she had changed to him at last. And that belief only fed the reckless, merciless traits of his nature--those traits which all his life had led him to seize the thing he wanted, careless of right and wrong. At that moment if Sir James should come between him and Bobbie, he felt he could strangle him with his own hands. He knew he would stop at nothing to render such a climax impossible once and for all. If he hated the man less in his day of prosperity than he had done in his days of desperate lawlessness, the balance was more than made up now by his dread that, in some way or other, Sir James might come between himself and this girl whom he had grown to want beyond everything in heaven and earth. So he hardened his heart to hear what Van Tyl had to say, and to let him work his villainy unmolested."Get on," he said shortly. "If you've to be seen at Loma, you've precious little time to waste." It was just as Blake said this that a figure dressed all in green stole through the bushes and crouched against a leafy shrub near the open window of the room in which the two men talked. Silent and still


as a mouse, Bobbie bent her head forward, and realised with unutterable relief that she could hear every word said. It ended her anxious fear of failure for the moment, for, had she not succeeded in overhearing this conversation, she had no plan as yet to serve her instead."You're right there," Van Tyl answered. "But, unless the darned bike busts up, I shall be seen at Loma, telling those police a few useful things, which they can call to mind later on, and wish they had thought of sooner. I shall then start away in the direction of Geegi, saying I mean to camp a night on the way; and, when I am well out of sight, I shall slip round to the spot where I left my bike and make tracks for Shagann's kraal like hell.""Of course the niggers'll give us away afterwards," said Blake sneeringly."And who's going to take a nigger's word against a white man's? Gor blimey, we haven't come to that yet! Besides, the police had heard they were a dangerous kraal--don't you see?--and they happened to know I was at Loma, on my way to Geegi, that very day.""Well, it isn't going to serve any reasonable purpose for me to be there," Blake suggested. "I might only shoot you in the dark.""Shoot!" rejoined Van Tyl scornfully. "Who's talking of shooting? You're like a blamed kid! And nice we'd look when the bullets were proved to be ours, and Shagann was found to possess no firearms at all?""Then--""Native axes, of course. A blow on the head


that stuns, if it doesn't finish outright, and the rest is simple.""It's a beastly idea.""But it's safe," urged Van Tyl with a leer. "If the blow miscarries, and Fortescue has time to fire, we're going to get clear away while he's settling
with the niggers.""Why can't you leave it to the niggers altogether?""Because we've got to move those pegs before morning, and get
stones round 'em that don't give away the deal. We can't do it till
we know. And we've got to do it sharp, so as to turn up for breakfast a good many miles away, where there's someone who will swear to us. If it's humanly possible, I ought to be at Geegi. You'll be safe enough if you get back here before your boy brings the mornin' tea."There was disgust on Blake's face, but he only shrugged his
shoulders callously, while the other remarked: "I don't see as you need feel squeamish at this time o' day. 'Tain't the first life you've seen taken, nor, for the matter while we'll be rich men also--almighty rich. I guess you like riches as well as most of us." Again a hideous leer filled his face. "I ain't goin' to abduct 'em in future--I'm going to buy 'em!""You'll come to the gallows all the same!" said Blake disgustedly."In your company, lik' enough," was the quick


retort." You don't get off scot free again, if I'm caught.""I've a good mind to warn Fortescue even now.""And lose the lady? Bah, don't be a sentimental fool! The man scored against us once,and now we're goin' to score against him. What's one man, anyway? Take your chance and get rich, and win the lady and escape my vengeance, for swear, if you fail me now, I'll have your life!"Blake moved about the room restlessly for some moments, and then the Dutchman got to his feet."Well, I'm off. You'd better be by the drift at seven. It 's dark then, and he'll go to his tent The sooner the thing's over, the sooner we can shift those pegs and get well away."Blake did not reply, but Bobbie heard them both move from the room
to the out on to the stoep. Then the heavvy tread of the Dutchman walked away, and Blake went back into the house.For one breathless moment she stood up, wondering if she dare go
back home at once, and then she heard Blake call to his cook-boy: "
I'm going to meet the Inkosikaas. If she comes the other way, tell her I shall be back in a few minutes. And if--" But Bobbie waited to hear no more. She felt there was no help for her. The lunch must faced, and then she must find a way to get a warning to Sir James. As she slipped back to the pathway through the trees, a thousand thoughts and plans confused her horror-struck mind. She scarcely believe the infamous words she had heard,and yet through all her being she knew that they were true. And against all this villainy there was only herself--just one mere girl--to save Sir


James's life! That she would do it, she never' doubted. But how? If only her brain would think clearly! Should she confess to Blake that she had found out everything? And if so, how could she be sure he would not detain her by force--would not wreak his fury upon her, and at the same time leave Sir James to his fate. He might do this, and escape out of Rhodesia into Portuguese territory, for he could easily cover up everything for the next twenty-four hours; and, once across the border, who was ever to find him? No, she must keep her own counsel and devise a, surer plan. After all, Sir James was only ten miles away, and less by the short cut, so that, once she could get away from Blake's, she would have time to get to him. Probably he would try to detain her, but there she must be too clever for him, and arrange her departure at the earliest possible moment.So, with a beating heart, but upheld, nevertheless, by a great object, she stepped out from the trees and sauntered towards the house.CHAPTER X.
THE LUNCH.When Blake saw her coming from the stoep, he hurried forward to receive her, and it was all Bobbie could do to meet unflinching the burning ardour in his eyes."So you've come," he said tensely."So I've come," she answered lightly. "I haven't had an adventure that offered so long, I simply had to grasp at anything that offered."" You are not very polite. Do I merely represent the best chance of an adventure that offered?""About that. Why, I told you only a spirit of adventure would bring me.""I should have liked a warmer reason, but, since you've actually come--"-meaningly."As a matter of fact, it's a wonder I ever arrived. I nearly turned back several times.""What--nervous?"--with a little laugh."Nervous!" she echoed. "Whatever about? what an odd person you are! You talk as if you might turn into a lion, or a wolf, or something, like Riding Hood's grandmother. No, I nearly turned back because of the heat--nothing else. The wind
is in the south, and it makes it extra hot walking in this direction."They reached the pretty bungalow, built of native-made bricks and with a corrugated iron roof painted red, which had a particularly pleasing effect against the fresh green of the M'Sasa trees and the intense blue sky. Moreover, Blake had some beautiful flowering creepers blooming in masses over the verandah, giving the house the appearance of a fairy bower rather than a dwelling where two lawless men could discuss the perpetration of an infamous deed. Looked at in another way, it also had a certain flaunting air of abandon-much brilliant colour splashed on recklessly, and all around a tangled bush that knew neither law nor order.There are times when Rhodesia may wear, even to those who love her, an air of heartlessness and cruelty--something of the primeval riotousness of Nature--something that seems to defy blatantly the conventions of civilisation. A man may feel it often when he is wrestling with his first bit of wilderness, for, in the wanton summertime, it is as though Rhodesia mocked openly at his efforts, growing what she will where she will, in spite of him, and maliciously choking his work with weeds and rank growth. Or, if it is winter, when the streams are running dry, and the rains are overdue, yet tarry unkindly, she will wreck all his work with dryness; and when she has parched his seeds to death, she will send rain in such superabundance that he has more moisture than he can cope with. Even his animals she will not spare, torturing them with drought one day, and overpowering them with swollen torrents and muddy vleis the next. And yet with it all, as some beautiful, tantalising woman, she wins all hearts. The man who is thoroughly "fed up" with


her one year will hasten back the next. The woman who shakes her annoying red dust from her feet and garments one dry season, and rejoices that she is able to depart, will have a yearning after a time for the riotous beauty of flowers and sunshine, the far blue hills, the wide spaces, the freedom. And, after all, who that is worth his salt would choose a life that is all ease and smoothness. The keen breezes of the height are more invigorating than the warm winds of the valley; obstacles to be overcome, better than a sloth and leisure that overcomes
us. Man is by nature a fighter. "By the sweat of thy brow" was the mandate of old. To fight a beautiful, wayward wilderness, even if she tantalises almost beyond endurance, may yet hold a deeper compensation than to go on just where one's father and one's father's father left off. To cut a groove for oneself in face of many difficulties, may hold a greater satisfaction than to move slowly and easily along a groove cut by someone else. It is this spirit that makes such fine colonists of Englishmen. It is as though the sons of all the Drakes and Frobishers, able no longer to rove the high seas in search of adventure and prizes, roved out over the wilderness lands of the earth, expending their northern energy in taming the untamed valleys and bringing the waste places into line. The followers of Drake and Frobisher did a splendid work in making England mistress of the seas. Are the plucky colonists of today doing any less in spreading the bounds of her Empire and opening up new dwelling-places for her overflowing population? Only let them remember sometimes that it is an Empire work, and not just making a living for oneself, then shall we have


strong men coming forward to stand in singleness of purpose for the rights and fair government of their comrades.But in the meantime there is much hardship to be cheerfully endured, much disappointment to b1 overcome, much depression to be grappled with, when the sturdy white man comes along and says to the beautiful, flaunting wilderness: "As you have grown for love of growing in the past, casting your wealth upon the wilderness air, so you shall now grow for me, and shall grow those things I want grown." Naturally a duel of wills follows, until the wrestling merges into long furrows, and civilisation waves her magic wand.But it was the cruel aspect that seemed strangely to strike Bobbie
that morning, as she looked at the gay little house, with its tangled
surroundings, and remembered how she was there, against her will and
inclination, to combat a deed possible only in a district as yet
barely within reach of civilisation's waves. She glanced also at
Blake, and saw in him the product of the border country--the man who
had come in the early days, solely to take, and
with no idea of giving; the man who hated law and order, and wanted only to snatch whatever good things he could find in the universe, ignoring all thoughts of brotherhood, and desiring only gain for himself, by fair means or foul; a man who was something of an anomaly now that civilisation had followed after him, unwilling, perhaps incapable, of going back to the state he had flung away from, but choosing still to be a law unto himself, and to seize, regardless of risk, whatever thing he most desired. In truth, a dangerous man for a girl to visit alone,


away there in his stronghold, as Bobbie very well knew. But danger to herself had no longer any power to move her. The danger overshadowing one who seemed of so infinitely more importance dwarfed all else."Your creepers are making a brave show," she said, as they mounted the verandah steps."They are decking a triumphal arch," he told her, "for the coming of the queen.""What nonsense!" curling her lip a little. "Anyone would think it was a long-looked-forward- to event, instead of a casual drop in, to pass a dull day.""It is a long-looked-looked-forward-to event," he answered calmly. I have counted on it for months. Of course, I knew you would come one day, but I hardly dared hope it would be so soon."She leaned her sunshade against a chair with a studied air of unconcern, and glanced round the sitting-room. "A pleasant little surprise for you; but I fear it will be of short duration, as they say in books. I was too lazy to do anything this morning so I shall have to hurry back, lest poor Mr. Hulatt comes all the way to play the part of guardian, and finds nothing to eat.""Why does he come at all?" asked Blake almost fiercely. "Why doesn't your brother ask me to be guardian? I am much nearer. Doesn't he trust me?""I expect not," she replied, so coolly that he could not help laughing."Perhaps he's right," he added, with a like coolness. "But if you
wished me to come "--pointedly--" it would be all right, wouldn't it?""I don't trust you either," said Bobbie lightly. "You might steal the sugar.""I should be a fool if I didn't," he answered darkly, looking very hard into her face.Bobbie pretended not to notice, and with forced calm, she turned away to pick up a fine leopard skin from a chair-back. "What a beauty! Is it a new one?""Yes. I got him about a week ago. My boys saw him slinking on a kopje near the goats, so I went after him at sundown. Tiger put him up, and made a lucky shot. Got him dead as a doornail first time. You may have it if you like. It is rather well brayed."Bobbie laid the skin down again. She did want to accept the gift, yet could hardly decline "I won't rob you," she said; "it looks so well over that chair.""You won't be robbing me. I meant to give to you all along; I should have brought it up."At that moment a boy came in, clad in spotless "limbo," and, as he went out again, she changed the conversation by remarking with a smile: "What spotlessness! How do you manage it? Even when we had so eminent a personage as Sir James Fortescue to see us, our house-boy appeared clad in very short electric blue knickers, and a shirt with a rent the whole length of the back. Yet we had given 'limbo' only a few days before.""Like the house," said Blake, "he is dressed for the coming of the queen.""Anyone would think I had come to stay"-- trying to laugh naturally."Why not stay?" And this time, in spite of


herself, the colour rushed to her face. He seemed to enjoy it, for he watched her closely, and then said: "By Jove, a blush is becoming to you!""I don't like compliments. If you can't talk sense, I shall go home again at once.""That depends upon if I will let you.""Indeed it doesn't!"--and her eyes flashed a little. "I shall go when I choose.""Well, don't let us start off with a quarrel. I've a lot to say to you, but you mustn't wear that indignant air, or I'm afraid I shall have to kiss you.""Rats!" said Bobbie, perceiving that her safest plan lay in refusing to take him seriously. "I don't like kisses any better than compliments, and I don't want to have anything to do with either, thank you.""Oh, don't you? Not even if it were Toby, the butcher,or Sir James the old lady?" "I love Toby's butcheriness. He reminds me of a happy kid building mud castles.""Well, he isn't much more than a kid--too young to be really interesting to a clever woman like you.""I'm not clever, and Toby interests me immensely.You never know what he will be up to next.""Which is much the case with any fool.""Oh, of course, if you are jealous of him, as well as of Sir James, it isn't worth while discussing the subject.""I'm not jealous of either nincompoop!"--with an angry note in his voice. "I wonder why you are in such an aggravating mood today?"She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Am I?" she asked, in a voice that made him want to shake her."Just a little"--smiling in his turn-- "but we


won't fall out about it. Here's lunch. Not rich fare, I'm afraid, but the best fowl I possessed-- slaughtered for the queen.""Poor best fowl! Evidently sometimes it pays to be second-best.""I hate the second-best in anything. It's got too easily, for one reason. I like a thing I've had to win against odds." He paused a moment, then added: "I suppose that is why I want you, and why I mean to have you. You're so much better
worth wrestling for than most women!"Bobbie felt her colour changing uncomfortably, and was unable to meet the challenge in his eyes."I guess that's where you've miscalculated, as the Americans would say," she answered, with a forced laugh. "What an excellent fowl! Your poor dear best bird seems to have been worthy of his distinction.""Of course he was. All my best things are. And you will be when you join them." He seemed to take a special delight in embarrassing her, watching keenly the changing colour in her cheeks, and secretly enjoying the defiant light in her eyes. It suited her amazingly. Blake had never blinded himself that she was beautiful, but he knew that she was distinguished-looking, and to a perfect figure added a piquancy and power of expression never likely to pall as beauty may. And today, flushed with her walk and defiant under his treatment, she looked handsomer than he had ever seen her before. After lunch he told himself he would try his old methods of daring conquest, and take not one kiss, but many, till his personality dominated hers, and he might win her by his power.Bobbie, far more alert than she appeared, noted every move and
every inflection, and meant to withstand him with a weapon of
invulnerable indifference and a judicious amount of ridicule. As soon
as possible she hoped to get away without his escort, and, even as
they sparred over their meal, she was making desperate plans, not
merely to baffle his familiarity, but to prevent him from returning to
their huts with her. She thought the best plan would be to suggest he
left her to rest on the shady side of the verandah for an hour, and,
directly she thought it safe, she would slip away unobserved. After
that there was only one course left. By hook or by crook she must reach Sir James's camp before seven o'clock. And to do this she must take a boy with her and walk the ten miles, taking the Kopje path, where, if anything should arouse Blake's suspicions, he was less likely to find her. In the meantime there was Blake to cope with, and with a shrinking heart she realised it would be no easy matter. She felt that, whether he wished it or no, his natural lust of power was growing upon him, and that her guard of indifference was almost as dangerous as a yielding mood. In his determination not to be thwarted, he might ignore the hurt to his cause, and try to triumph just for triumph's sake. And in this she was right. Resistance always brought out Blake's fiercest attributes. He believed in conquering first and soothing afterwards, wedded to the belief that any woman could be soothed from anger if you petted her enough and gave her many presents. Which showed that, in perceiving the strength and attraction of Bobbie's character, he yet had failed to differentiate between


her and the class of women he had had mostly to deal with.Bobbie's life had not been an easy, safe-guarded one at any time since she grew out of childhood. She had had to fend for herself on various occasions, and, in consequence, many women in their whole lives might possess less self-reliance and resource than she was blessed with at twenty-five. And mingled with it was a fineness of character that Blake could not comprehend, choosing rather to judge her by his own standards. Thus, just because she had accepted his invitation, he saw in her, unexpectedly and with agreeable surprise, a more yielding nature than he had supposed. Doubtless she was already bored with Toby's youthfulness, he argued, and had had the wisdom to perceive in him a more suitable mate. If only he could safely combat the ill to his schemes that threatened from Sir James's quarter, should he live to tell what he knew of Blake's past I As, to outward seeming, his success drew nearer, it made him harden his heart mercilessly against the man he deemed his enemy, and all the old dare-devil recklessness of the early days flooded in upon him again. He had seen deeds of bloodshed then without turning a hair. He could see one more, he felt, if it were to give him the thing he desired most in the world, and safety from a following dread.So he plied Bobbie with whatever good things he had, and teased her to make her blush, only smiling when she grew angry. When they had finished lunch, he suggested to her to sit on a low couch, covered with a fine caross, and smoke a cigarette. But Bobbie declined, saying she would


smoke a cigarette at the table, and then go home."Home!" he echoed. "You can't possibly go home for hours. You will have to wait until it is cool.""It will be perfectly cool going back, as I shall meet the wind. I told you I should not stay long, as I must prepare for Mr. Hulatt.""I know you said something of the kind, but I did not think you meant it," he remarked in a way that made her secretly furious.But she curbed her anger for the sake of the work she had in hand,
and answered with a touch of corn: "Oh, is that your way? It isn't mine. When I say a thing, I mean it."Then the only course will be to change your mind," said Blake, still smiling provokingly. "That, at least, as a woman, you can do without hurting your dignity.""I don't want to change it. Give me a cigarette, and then I shall go.""And is this adventure"--with a sarcastic emphasis--"of which you have made so much to end there? You certainly don't ask a great deal if a tame outing like this will serve you for adventure."She smiled lightly. "Beggars cannot be choosers. I told you before it was the best that offered."He was silent a moment, looking vexed, then he said: "You also mentioned that you were not afraid of me. Then why not come and sit on the couch? You always mean what you say. Or does the rule lapse at convenient times?""I don't mind coming in the least"--with a jaunty air. "I only thought it looked a little hot.


I'll sit there until I finish my cigarette, if it is only to show you I am a woman of my word, which also means I am shortly going home."He was content to have gained one point, and watched with smouldering triumph in his eyes while she stood up, moved gracefully across the room, and seated herself on the couch. Then he picked up some photographs from a table behind her, and casually leaned over the back of the sofa to show them to her. Bobbie took a photograph from him that pleased her exceedingly, and, leaning over it fully engrossed, did not notice that he had sidled nearer to her, and, with one arm behind her shoulders, had his head bent down so close to hers that it was almost an embrace.And just at that moment there was a tread on the verandah, as a gay voice cried: "I say, Blake, you old loafer, can you lend me a bicycle pump?"Bobbie looked up with an exclamation that was almost a cry, to see Toby standing in the doorway, regarding them with a face of stunned amazement."You!" he gasped hoarsely. "You!"CHAPTER XI.
TOBY AS SALESMAN.To explain Toby's appearance at Blake's house, when he was supposed to have joined Betty and Bay and Ken on their journey to Geegi, it is necessary to o back to the early hours of the morning, and discover the young store-keeper splashing in his bath on the most secluded side of his verandah--at any rate, the side he could not be seen from the store, and only by such chance black customers as might come to buy, from M'Tambo's kraal, a not very probable contingency at the hour of the morning bath. Dusky belles on a shopping expedition, however, are extremely self-accommodating as to time, arriving at almost any hour that happens to please them. As, however, they do not mind sitting on the ground outside for possibly half a day waiting, it is not as inconvenient to the store-keeper as it might be. Serving them, when once they come to close quarters, is far more troublesome, and the greatest patience is needed on the part of the seller. They have to be allowed to rove round and round the store, giggling and chattering while they finger everything; and just when the store-keeper thinks they have made up their minds, and are coming to tell him what they want, they merely ask for change

 
for a two-shilling piece by way of an interlude, and start voyaging once more. Toby had not a special amount of patience, but he had a great deal of cheeriness that appealed to them; and often, by making them laugh, he would succeed in selling them an entirely different article to the one they had set out to buy, which probably he did not possess, and send them away perfectly happy.His home beside the store consisted of one large circular hut with
a stoep all round it. This answer the purpose of dining-room,
drawing-room, bedroom larder, pantry, and general storehouse of all
odds and ends he possessed, including such trifles as a sack or two of
mealies overflowing from the store, and sundry evil smelling lumps of
Kaffir tobacco. The roof was blackened with the smoke from his
chimney, which nearly burnt down his entire residence every time he
indulged in a fire ; but as the fireplace was used chiefly to store
his groceries, this, fortunately, was only resorted to on the rare
occasions of a hard frost, when he could not get warm without it. Of
course, as a reasonable human being of natural habits, he ought to
have built himself a second hut at a trifling cost, but, having once
established himself in his present fashion, he was too lazy to make
any change. "Why should I change?" he asked of the Glynns, when they
twitted him. "I can reach almost anything I want without moving at any
time, and think what a lot of trouble that saves!" In the hot weather, however, he had his bed carried outside, and slept under the stars. "It saves washing," he said; "I only have to wipe the dew off my face!"That he was extraordinarily happy in his "kennel,"


no one could doubt for a moment. He was, indeed, so happy that he
radiated his joy all round him, and was therefore almost the greatest
asset of the neighbourhood. The white men loved him, and the niggers
loved him, and one white woman was ready to lose the world for him
should occasion arise. So he sang gaily at the top of his voice, as he
splashed in the bath on his stoep that sunny morning when he meant to
go to Geegi with the Glynns. Although he boasted that he could reach
almost anything he wanted in his Kia without moving, it appeared no easy matter to find his one clean white suit for his trip. In fact, for ten minutes, clad only in a vest, he rummaged through the entire contents of the hut, and then remembered it was in his trunk on the stoep. Thus, lightly clad, he went out to get it, still singing lustily, and proceeded to finish his dressing in the open air. Then he shouted for breakfast, and took a look at his bicycle, to find both tyres perfectly flat."Damme!" he muttered, "if I didn't go and bust 'em both last week, and clean forgot all about it! I must have breakfast first, and then go through the kopjes and catch the others up."While he was having breakfast, four ladies arrived with baskets of meal on their heads, which they wanted to trade for salt and limbo and a blanket."Tell them the great white chief is having breakfast," he instructed his boy, "and he cannot do any trading today, because--because--well, because it is Tuesday."A great deal of palaver proceeded outside, and Smoke, the boy, came back to say the ladies had journeyed a long way, and their husbands would


probably beat them if they stayed away too long or returned without having done the trading."Tell them to tell their husbands that the great white chief will beat them if they expect him to hurry over his breakfast, and get indigestion on their account, and invite the ladies to sit down on the ground."Smoke went out for another long indaba, and returned to say the ladies had taken root, and would give the message to their husbands. Toby went leisurely on with his breakfast, and then prepared to open his store. "But there's the bally bike to mend!" he exclaimed, remembering it suddenly. "I must make a start. If I do one wheel, the solution can be setting while my customers get on with their harangue."So he lightly sauntered out in view of the squatting ladies, and strolled round the stoep to his bicycle. After ten minutes he returned to view, and condescended to glance at the contents of the squander baskets the buyers had brought to pay for their goods. He made a few remarks that set them off giggling, and then went back to his bicycle. Having finished one wheel, he went a little further with the purchasing, and invited his customers to walk into the store and look round. Smoke was told off to keep guard, and the other wheel started upon. Presently Smoke was summoned, to know how things were progressing, and as he hinted at a very peaceful state of affairs, they were allowed to take their course a little longer. Then a boy arrived with a note from a white man some twenty miles away, asking for a few things, and the early comers were regaled with the spectacle of Smoke and the


distinguished store-keeper rummaging leisurely round together to see if they had any single one of the things the poor white man begged for. Finally Toby made the order up out of his own personal store of provisions, saying he could order more at Geegi if he ever arrived there. It was well past ten o'clock, and the wheel was not nearly finished, when he finally attended to the patient traders, and then it took him nearly half an hour to satisfy them before the meal was weighed, or anything. By eleven the bicycle was still unmended, and he knew that if he did not go to Geegi today, he would miss the magistrate, Mr. Shute, whom he particularly wished to see. So he tried to hurry on a little, and succeeded in spilling a cup of very hot tea down his clean white suit, and both burning himself as well as spoiling his attire. This involved another hunt for respectable garments, and an old pair of grey flannel trousers were at last unearthed from the back of the fireplace, behind the groceries. The white ants had eaten a few holes in them, but "nothing to shock," as Toby put it, so he arrayed himself once more, and then loitered about in the store a little longer, giving directions before he went back to blow up his bicycle.It was getting on towards lunch-time when he discovered that he had lost his pump. Another half hour was wasted looking for it, and at last he said resignedly: "Well, I may as well have lunch now, and then wheel the bike round by Blake's and borrow his." He knew he would be in time if he reached Geegi the following day, and decided he would travel through the cool of the night, as there was plenty of moonlight.Smoke opened a tin of meat for him, and he made a good meal off it before he was finally ready to start. Then he locked up everything, took what money he possessed in his pocket, and sallied forth, whistling blithely as he went, while Smoke, who was chef, valet, and faithful bodyguard generally, trundled the bicycle carefully along the path.Toby remembered, in his bitterness afterwards, that he thought of
Bobbie all the way as he went. He wished Shute had not chosen that
particular date to be at Geegi, then he could have gone over to keep
her company in the afternoon. She of her with great tenderness, his
sunny, handsome face softening as he dreamed. What a girl in ten
thousand she was! Always so cheery and bright and practical, so ready
to see the best in anyone, and to help a fellow to realise his
best. If only he could get on and attain that coveted farm, what
glorious times they would have! He dreamed of the horse he would buy for her, and how they would gallop across the veldt together, she as keen about the farm as he, and neither of them worrying much about getting rich, so long as they could keep their horses and succeed moderately. He felt a sudden swift envy of Blake. Out of sheer luck-or, at least, it was called such--he now possessed a beautiful farm and plenty of money. Of course, it was rather out of the world, and far from markets, but the road was good, and he could easily afford a motor if he wanted one. Moreover, with the extraordinarily rapid progress of the


country, what was far today might be almost too near tomorrow, and he and Bobbie would not worry about the loneliness while they had each other and a couple of good horses. He reflected that it was a lucky thing she did not like Blake, otherwise he might have stood but a poor chance beside Blake's advantages. Then his mind wandered to the promise he had asked of her, and he smiled a little at himself. It seemed rather an unnecessary, clumsy thing to have done, and Bobbie might have been offended at his want of trust. But it was not quite that; it was just that he liked to feel assurance doubly sure. And then, of course, Blake was an attractive man--the very man to appeal to a fearless, independent type of woman, and a man a woman might feel gratified in subduing. And that Bobbie had attracted him beyond any ordinary attraction was obvious to the man so deeply attracted himself. Yet she had promised him willingly, and he knew she would not break her promise--would not in any way allow Blake to suppose she had any friendly feelings for him whatever, nor permit him to exhibit any special attention to herself.When he saw the little creeper-covered house, he could not refrain from yet another pang of envy, it appeared so perfect a nest to take a bride to. He longed as he approached, to see Bobbie come to the door and welcome him.He climbed the steps of the verandah and walked along, calling gaily to Blake for his bicycle pump, under the impression he was sure to be taking an afternoon siesta in his bedroom.It was small wonder that the picture he beheld in the doorway struck him dumb. There had been


no time to move. Bobbie was seated on the couch, bending over a photograph, and Blake, in an affectionate attitude, was leaning over her.For one dreadful moment Toby wondered if he had become suddenly deranged, or perhaps had a sunstroke. But Bobbie's exclamation and her look of horror seemed to his quickly-distorted mind to confirm the worst, and, without a second's misgiving, he put it down to dismay at being found out. Hot-headed in moments of stress, like so many sweet-tempered men, he immediately gave insane rope to his fancy, and drew the worst conclusions. He did not perceive that, in the swift, agonised tension of her look, it was as though her brain were striving to speak to his brain, if such utterance were possible. He noted only her stillness and silence, the triumphant sneer dawning in Blake's eyes, and his affectionate attitude, and it was as though a black cloud came down and settled upon his brain. Slowly the amazement in his face turned to an expression of dull fury as he glanced round the room. He saw the luncheon table at which two had sat, and his lips curled in a way that made Bobbie shrink. Blake, secretly rejoicing, but conscious that the strain of the situation was becoming too great, sought to relieve it by remarking:"A bicycle pump, old chap? Why, of course I can!" And, rising, he
took his from a table and offered it to Toby. "You are starting rather
late." But Toby did not appear to hear him. He only stood there in the door, once more staring at Bobbie. Once she opened her lips to speak, but no sound came."Have you nothing to say?" Toby asked, in a picture included in body of Page's "The Pathway"
low, furious voice, riled beyond endurance by Blake's manner, and seeming to lose his head.Then Bobbie lost hers a little also. She resented bitterly that he should speak to her in such a tone before Blake, and should so instantly think the worst of her."Really, Toby--" she began, a little indignantly."No," he interrupted, in a tense voice, "it's no use. I
understand. I've been a fool! God, how easily you gulled me! I
wondered why you advised me to go to Geegi today with the
others. Well, I'm just going. It's not too late--especially when one does--doesn't mean to come back!" And without a word to Blake, he took the bicycle pump and turned away.Bobbie sprang to her feet and held out her hands."Toby!" she cried.But he did not hear her. Already his back was turned to the familiar kopjes they had climbed together; already, with his wrecked dreams and ruined castles, he was heading for the world at large.CHAPTER XII.
BOBBIE'S STRATAGEM.WHEN Bobbie had remarked to Blake that Tobys uncertainty held charm, and that one never knew what he would do next, she had spoken the truth in the latter portion of the criticism more literally than she knew. Toby was emphatically the type of man who needed a level-headed woman to take care of him, else he was inclined to be so irresponsible and uncertain he would never get on. It was not that he was lazy or over-fond of pleasure, but he needed balance, and in the hands of a sensible woman might achieve a great deal. With all her love, Bobbie was not in the least blind to his short-comings. He was the dearest man in the world to her, but he was no paragon, and she had never imagined him one. She knew that he lacked steadiness of purpose, and was therefore liable to lose ground at any time by going off in a mistaken direction. And now, when he flung away with that last sentence about not coming back on his lips, she knew he was quite likely in his bitter indignation, to throw all the work of months to the winds, and desert his store just when he was beginning to make it pay.He would not see anything at the time but his imaginary wrong and her perfidy, and all else in


the world might go. For a little while a blackness seemed to come down upon her also, and she sat with clenched hands and compressed lips, utterly at a loss to know how to act.Then Blake recalled her sharply to herself, and to the present, and all the pressing need of the hour. By no possible chance could she follow Toby and explain anything now, so her faculties must once more all be trained upon the exigencies that had resulted in her present position."He seems a bit annoyed," Blake said, with a sneer. "Thought he was getting it all his own way absolutely. Silly young ass, with his tuppeny-ha'penny store and his five pounds a month!""I'm sorry he came." Bobbie stood up and spoke quite frankly. "I'm afraid he will be angry with me. Perhaps it was rather foolish of me to come.""What rot! What has it got to do with him, anyway? I never believed you were serious when you led him on. He might have had the sense to see it, too. A woman like you to accept a boy like him-pshaw!" "Well, anyhow, he hasn't asked me," she replied, with feigned lightness. "I'm going home now.""Nonsense. You can't go in this heat! I shouldn't dream of allowing it!""Hoity-toity!" she laughed. "I'm afraid I intend to please myself.""Well, I intend you shall listen to reason," said Blake doggedly, "and one or two other things as well." He caught her hand suddenly. "That I love you is one of them. Do you hear? Love you


--love you--love you!" And with each repetition he crushed her hand more tightly in his.A sickening dread took possession of her for a moment, but she rallied herself with all her strength to wrestle with him and get safely away to achieve
her object."I don't believe it," she said. "Men like you do not love anyone but themselves. Let me go!" And she tried to withdraw her hand, but he only held it more firmly."No, I won't let you go--I'll never let you go! I'm going to marry you soon, whether that young whipper-snapper likes it or not. I've meant to for months. I was only biding my time, and you knew it.""And what if I don't want to marry you?"-- with a slight curl of her lips."I'll make you want. Don't look at me like that--you make me feel dangerous! I never wanted anything in my life half so much as I want you. It isn't likely I'm going tamely to let you go. Why did you come here today, if you don't care? What do you--what does any woman want that I cannot give you? I am a rich man, and I shall be much richer. I can give you anything in the world you fancy. Bobbie, I love you! Do you hear?" And he tried to take her in his arms. But she held him off valiantly, conscious only that somehow or other she must get away."If you kiss me, I shall hate you" she said. "No man worth the name forces a kiss on a woman."He desisted a moment, looking angry. Something about her baffled him. It occurred to him that for some reason, she was acting."Don't play with me," he muttered, in tense, hard tones. "I'm not a man to play with lightly. Play with Toby and that tribe of silly young idiots if you like, but not with me. I've seen too much of the dare-devil side of life and been a law to myself for too long to take any trifling lightly about a thing I have very much at heart.""Are you threatening me?" she asked, with a brave show of irony, in no way in keeping with the tremor at her heart."I don't know about threatening, but I feel I could kill you rather than let you go to anyone else!" And he moved near to her again, and Bobbie saw a light in his eyes that had a dangerous look.Because she was afraid of being unnerved, she braced herself sternly to combat him, and, steadying her voice with a great effort, said calmly: "Don't you think you are treating me a little badly, now you have got me here all alone in your power? I trusted you a good deal by coming at all. Do you want to make me regret my trust?""Is it treating you badly to tell you I love you?""That depends. At the present moment I am very hot and very tired, and my head aches. You have taken me so much by surprise, I hardly know how to grasp all you mean, and then you get angry with me. If you won't let me go quietly home, will you leave me in peace to rest on the verandah a little, until the afternoon cools?""Of course I will, you dear," Blake answered, relenting suddenly. "I'm afraid I've been a little brutal, but I don't seem quite to know myself, caring like this. I just want you, and you only, beyond


everything in heaven and earth. I want you so much that I can't be cool about it. And yet you stand there so calm and quiet, while I am positively raging. I don't know that I meant to tell you today; but since you came, I knew I should--nothing could stop me. And then that young fool Toby turns up, obviously thinking you ought not to be here at all, and I have to tell you at once. You'll promise to marry me before you go, won't you?""I can't say what I shall do later on. At the present moment I feel I would rather rest for an hour than marry the most splendid person in the world.""So you shall; but you must kiss me first." And he advanced a pace."No," she declared resolutely, refusing again to see the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Even to gain her great end she could not act the part of Delilah."I do not like your violent methods. Surely you are not the man to care for a kiss given unwillingly. Why all this haste? Give me time to think."He turned away almost with a sullen air. "You baffle me," he said; "I do not understand you.""But still you can respect my wishes"--and Bobbie smiled. She saw that she had gained an advantage, and hastened to follow it up. She knew she was playing a double game, and hated it, but the end that was hers must surely excuse any means; and as the duel between them had proceeded, she had realised as never before how unscrupulous Blake could be. Hitherto she had known him only as the pleasant visitor, about whom there were rumours concerning a past that would not bear inspection;


but it had been easy to believe, whatever it were he had turned over a
new leaf and left the old ways behind him. Today, however, she had
seen something in his face that seemed to say their trust was
unfounded and Toby's suspicions correct. The old character was there
still, hidden under a mere veneer of pleasant seeming. To gain an end
he had much at heart, this man could do anything. She saw it in that strange gleam in his eyes when he let himself go. She felt it in a consciousness of danger to herself. She understood why the villainous Dutchman had found an accomplice so easily, knowing the gain to Blake himself weighed more heavily than any threat of harm from his enemy. To take what he wanted was his creed. The shame lay in being found out. She felt more strongly every moment that stratagem was her only weapon, and the one way she could hope to defeat him. So she pressed her vantage ground now, still bravely thrusting the thoughts of Toby that tried to crowd in upon her, into the background."See here," she said, with seeming frankness, "I'll rest awhile on the shady side of the house, and you must humour me by going away. You are much too disturbing a person to remain. Later on we can talk again."In calling him "disturbing " she had flattered him at a particularly vulnerable point, and he showed himself almost more amenable than she had dared to hope."Very well," he agreed. "I ought to plant another of my tobacco beds today, in case rain comes. I'll go and do it now. Afterwards"--he looked at her with an expression that made her


shrink--"afterwards little woman--well, we'll enjoy ourselves"She turned away with a sense of loathing she could only with
difficulty conceal, and he fetched some cushions for the lounge chair
for her. Then, with a laughing au revoir, he went away, and she saw him walking off in the direction of his tobacco beds.The shady side of the verandah chanced, fortunately, to be the one bounded by trees and shrub, through which she had secretly approached, and could as secretly retire. In a fever of dread, she lay back in the chair, longing to start, yet fearful of making a blunder. There was no time for thought of anything else now. The ordeal she had passed through, Toby's bitter anger, were thrust into the background. Would any power take her safely the ten miles to Sir James's camp before night fell? If not, did anything else in the world matter?After ten minutes, judging he must have set to work, and be
unlikely to return for about an hour, she scrambled to her feet and
hurriedly sought a paper and pencil. Then she scribbled him a little
note, saying she had gone home without waiting for him, as her head
was no better, and, as she felt feverish, she thought it wiser to go
while she could. "Do not follow me," she added. "I would rather be left to myself. Come another day instead." She felt sure he would obey her instructions, because he had no time to spare himself, and, by suggesting that he should come another day, she made her hurried departure seem less strange. Then she placed the note in a prominent position in the sitting-room, and stole away into the trees.Once safely out of sight, she quickened her pace


as much as possible, regardless of the hot afternoon sun, and reached the huts within half an hour. She longed for a cup of tea, but feared to wait a moment, lest he followed her and thwarted her plans. If he came at all, he must find no signs of her, and no one about to ask any questions of. The cook-boy she meant to take as guide, and the piccanin she would send at once to Mr. Hulatt with a note, asking him to come to Sir James Fortescue's camp, near Shagann's kraal, as soon as possible. Doubtless he would be amazed at such a message, and think her behaviour very strange; but she could not explain in a note, and could only leave it to subsequent events.As soon as the piccanin was dispatched,:she called to the cook-boy,
and told him danger was threatened to the big, white Inkaas who had visited them and gone on to Shagann's kraal, and they must follow him at once. The cook-boy looked stupid and uncomprehending, but Bobbie succeeded at last in making him understand where she wanted to go, and that he must come with her. He tried to tell her it was too far, but she paid no heed, merely locking the huts herself, and making ready for an immediate start."Too far--too far--very long way," reiterated the black boy; but Bobbie seemed scarcely to hear him, she was in such nervous haste to be off, for fear Blake should follow her. What did distance matter when a life lay in the balance? Had it been twice as far, she would have tried to get there. While she could stand, she would never stop until she had spoken her warning and put Sir James on his guard.Finally they stole away to follow the difficult footpath through
the kopjes, because it was so much nearer than the main track. In vain the boy murmured of a schelums, meaning, as she well knew, a possible lion or leopard or baboon. All her world, all her life, held but one object in that critical hour. Wild beasts themselves should not stay her efforts to get to Sir James. If she fell by the way, before arriving, what was that to her? The warrior spirit burned in her heart. Let her at least fall trying to save this man.CHAPTER XIII.
SIR JAMES IS THOUGHTFUL.WHEN Sir James Fortescue left the home huts of the Glynns, it was with the pleasurable sensation of having encountered a wholly unexpected treat. No one could know better than he about those surprises Rhodesia delights in, and yet he was astonished anew to find two girls as charming as Betty and Bobbie living in huts with their brothers at such an out-of-the-way mine. As a matter of fact, he had not expected to find any civilisation at all after he left Geegi; and even the information he received there concerning the Glynns had only suggested to him two rough working young men, with two equally uncouth sisters. He knew the neighbourhood was a lonely, uninhabited one, because when shooting there, at the time he pegged his claim upon Loka kopje, he had found no white people at all. He knew a Dutchman, also on a shooting expedition, had pegged the next claim to his, but he did not know his name, nor anything about him. The ore he had had crushed, which had given such promising results, had been lying by for some little time, as he was too much occupied elsewhere to attend to it. He had known that it was probably good, but, as another claim he owned


was working out extraordinarily well, he could afford to let it remain idle a while. The recent report of a prospector, a few miles east of Loka, had caused him to produce his samples and consider the advisability of commencing operations. His nerves being out of order, as the result of overwork, he decided upon taking another trip after big game to the same neighbourhood, before arranging finally to begin mining. He wanted a few more samples, and he wanted the holiday. Thus he journeyed in person to Loka.Sir James was one of those men who almost always shoot alone. He
had seen so many friends permanently estranged under the trying
conditions of veldt and bush life, and upon one or two occasions had felt the strain of a continued companionship so severely himself, that he began to take trips unaccompanied. A devoted personal native went with him, to look after his camp and kitchen, and he found two or three weeks thus in the wilderness more refreshing to jaded nerves than anything else. If he felt inclined, he sought for fine specimens of big buck, and shot them for their horns, but he had never been one of those misnamed sportsmen who shot for the mere lust of killing, and left a track of wounded creatures or unnecessary carcases behind him. On many days he merely walked in the cool of the mornings and evenings for the love of walking and the love of the kopjes and vleis of the land to which he had given his life, resting through the long, hot hours in the shade, perfectly content with his pipe and his dreams. Too modest by nature to take to himself much credit for the splendid advance of Rhodesia, he was yet undoubtedly one of her


greatest benefactors; and first among those who came for sport and
stayed for work, came to take and stayed to give. Never having been in the employ of the British South Africa Company, he was enabled to take up an independent attitude of infinite value to the settler community; and only the more so that his relationship to various great personages in England gave him a power to hold his own even with the very powerful company that governed the country. So from step to step he piloted the growing community of hardy colonists who came out to make new homes for themselves in the wilderness, obtaining benefits and concessions and advances they might never have been powerful enough to obtain alone. And the settler population took all he had to give, and, in spite of their indebtedness, often worried and hindered and maligned him out of sheer perversity, which is a way of populations all the world over towards the strong man who stands out from the crowd to lead them. But since, surely, the mere fact of being the strong man is a source of deep, inward satisfaction in hours of insight, the other hours--those hours of depression inevitably wrought by the attitude of the crowd--may be summarily dismissed and thrust aside as of no real import at all.It was on such an expedition as this of Sir James's to Loka that he
found he could best banish all memory of spite and bitterness and chagrin, away from men and civilisation, alone with the glorious veldt. Perhaps the fact that he was unmarried, and at the same time a great parti, added a spice of romance to his reputation, for he was undoubtedly rich as well as well-born and good to look upon.No one seemed to know why he was not married. If he had a story, he kept it secret. If twitted with his bachelorhood, in the face of so many fair aspirants to share his work, he would only smile a slow, quiet smile, and say he considered himself wedded to Rhodesia, and could not commit bigamy.But the morning that he left the Glynns' wilderness camp he was conscious of a pleasure that had been more than an ordinary one in his short stay there. He liked the brothers--well-read, honest-eyed, clean young Englishmen, fighting a desperate uphill fight, as chiefly Englishmen know how.He liked Toby, the irresponsible young aristocrat, with his ridiculous store and butchery, while his mother was leader of a distinguished coterie at home, and his father a well-known soldier. Lastly, the two girls, with their frankness and naturalness, gracing their unusual surroundings with all the clever adaptability of the Englishwoman, pleased him extremely. As he tramped on through the sun -soaked atmosphere, noting, with half-unconscious pleasure, the lovely colouring of the spring leaves, and the wonderful sky effects, as the heralding clouds of the rainy season sailed across the blue, he found Bobbie was often in his mind. He liked the set of her head upon her shoulders, her slim grace, her upright carriage, her delightful absence of all affectation. He remembered how frankly she had greeted him, and with what friendliness she had hoped he would come again, as they said good-bye. He would hasten his departure from Loka, and stay two nights instead of one on the return journey, that he might get to know them all still better. The fact that Bobbie had vanished


with Toby during the evening he was at the huts did not convey anything to him but that they were great friends; for somehow, to his fifty years, Toby seemed the merest boy, and boyish even for that.The fact that he had encountered Harry Blake, though it rather vexed him to find he was actually living in the neighbourhood, caused him no qualms whatever. The old feud was dead enough now. He was not the man to throw stones when it could be avoided. If Blake had turned over a new leaf, and become a respectable member of the community, so much the better. As long as there was nothing against him now, Sir James would be the last to reveal his past. Then rather suddenly came the thought of any connection he might have with Bobbie. He had noticed that he watched her a good deal, but it had not seemed to have any meaning until, trekking through the sunshine, their names involuntarily came together to his mind.He had gathered from the brothers that Blake was successful--was,
in fact, almost a rich man. What if he turned his eyes to Bobbie Glynn? Sir James quickened his steps a little. Suddenly the idea appeared
preposterous, yet with equal suddenness he saw that it was extremely
probable. Immediately he asked himself, what was he to do? Bobbie was
nothing to him--he scarcely knew her. Under such circumstances, could
he interfere? Then his thoughts raced on. Could he not interfere? If she had been his sister, he felt he could have shot Blake dead for daring to look at her. He almost felt he would like to do as much for Bobbie. The man was a felon, a murderer, an outlaw. There


was a certain district in South Africa where he would never dare to show his face for a moment. He had left the district, got his chance to begin again in a new country, taken it manfully, and succeeded. But did that blot out all memory of the past? Certainly not. Whatever happened, the Glynns must be warned. Either he must speak to Bobbie herself or to her brothers. Buried away there in the back veldt, how should they ever hear anything? Where a girl could count the men she knew on the fingers of one hand, how should she have a fair chance to judge and discriminate? Blake was a smooth-spoken enough villain when he liked. How should she--how should any of them--suspect that black, stained past? Curious that in that little acreage of wilderness, with its sea of untrodden country around, this man, of all others, should have crossed Bobbie's path. Of course, there were many outlaws in all young countries; but where some had risen from a bad fall and got splendidly back into the running again, this man had but changed his ground, finding villainy did not pay. The deeds he was guilty of were not those which could be put behind and lived out of memory. They were the deeds of a man whose soul was black. Finding villainy did not pay, he might go straight in future, but nothing could ever justify him raising his eyes to a pure-souled, fresh-natured English girl, and to link her life with his in ignorance would be the greatest villainy of all. Yet that Blake would do it, if it suited him and he found himself able, Sir James never doubted for one moment. When had Blake ever not done the thing that suited him, if he could find a way?Yet how strange that it should be he--Sir James--


once more to cross his path and threaten his schemes! He smiled a little grimly to himself. How would Blake take it a second time? It was well known he had threatened to take his life on the previous occasion. Well, he could but go on his way, and do what seemed the best thing, as at other difficult times. Anyhow, Blake should not marry Bobbie Glynn while he could prevent it, come what might afterwards.So he came to his mid-day camping-place, and his boys arranged an awning under some shade, where he could lounge through the hot hours. Jim, the personal attendant, contrived an appetising repast of buck and fresh scones, and Sir James lay back on a hammock chair, almost the only luxury he allowed himself, and dreamily watched the lovely view of far blue hills, seen through a framework of branches. It was so lovely a spot, he was loth to move on to the camping-place he had planned for the night; but he disliked changing arrangements for a mere fancy, and, moreover, he would be much delayed on the morrow if he did not interview the chief Shagann at a very early hour. So camp was struck soon after three, and five o'clock saw them making preparations for the night at the spot Blake had recommended. A great noise of tom-toms was coming from the kraal, and Sir James mentally noted there was evidently a big beer drink going forward. It vexed him, for it meant the chief would probably be too drunk to do business for two days, as, with no police resident for many miles, the natives might keep up their beer drink as long as they liked. Yet, soon after they arrived, a handful of evil-looking niggers came up to the camp and asked for salt and matches. Sir James told Jim to give them some, and


explain that he wished to interview the chief in the morning about buying food for his carriers. The natives asked how many carriers, glancing round at the two or three visible, and were told that the bulk had gone on to Loka, to prepare huts, as Sir James would be staying there a week or two. This seemed to please them, for they glanced at each other in a manner Sir James thought peculiar; but it was only afterwards that he remembered and recorded his thought.A little more indaba took place, and the natives went off, leaving Sir James to have an early dinner, entirely unsuspicious of harm, and only anxious to hasten the morrow and make an early start.Neither did his three attendant natives suspect anything. There was no reason why they should. The visitors invited them to come to the kraal later on, and though Jim chose to stay behind with his master, the other two agreed with alacrity. Thus everything fell out to Van Tyl's planning, exceeding, indeed, his best hopes.He had hardly dared to conclude the bulk of the carriers would go on, and had imagined they would all need to be lured to the beer drink, and probably two or three would remain behind. When the natives reported to him that only three were there, and of these two would come to the kraal at dusk, thus leaving only one with Sir James, he was agreeably surprised. The mine was laid now. Only a touch was wanted to make it explode. He had left nothing to chance. The whole dastardly affair was carefully planned. For his purpose he had chosen the two or three worst and cleverest natives in the kraal. The majority would know nothing. And these two or three, in their turn, realising the


risk, had carefully arranged to throw the blame upon the shoulders of such of their brothers as best suited their plans. To this end, the big beer drink had been held, for some niggers, thoroughly drunk, are too stupid to know if they are committing murder or not; and, with a little careful manipulation, it would not prove difficult to stamp as the criminals, and give up to justice, natives who had nothing whatever to do with the crime, and had only been guilty of getting too drunk to know what they were doing. They would accordingly be hanged, and the real perpetrators would merely acquire the rich reward Van Tyl had promised. To a bad Mashona the deal was a mere bagatelle. If their brothers were fools, let them die. What did it matter, so they themselves got the reward? All the white man's stores they would hide, and with his money they would buy cattle, and perhaps get two wives apiece.Yes, in truth the mine was well laid. Long before the crime was discovered, Van Tyl would be chatting unconcernedly to the British South Africa policemen at Loma, on his way to Geegi and Lobenwayo. When the murder was out, and the police arrived, they would find two or three half-drunken natives, who had been secretly brought to Sir James's camp, slowly coming to their senses, holding in their hands the blood-stained axes of the real murderers. What account of themselves these unfortunate scapegoats were able to give was not likely to be of much avail. The only certain thing would be their stupid, confused condition, and the dead bodies of Sir James and his personal boy. It seemed unlikely that anything now could spoil his scheme, and Van Tyl gloated silently over his splendid revenge and the riches that would be his.CHAPTER XIV.
THE CRITICAL JOURNEY.WHEN Bobbie started off on her eight-mile journey, the path through the kopjes being two miles shorter than the ordinary track, she was conscious at first chiefly of elation that she had so succeeded in outwitting Blake and in getting safely away from his house. She guessed that he could not find the time to follow her now, even if he went to the huts to look for her. He could only think her conduct very strange, and hope to unravel it later.After a little, however, the heat and the difficulties of the path began to crowd from her mind all else but the passionate fear lest she should not reach Sir James in time. A path through kopjes in Rhodesia often means scrambling up one side of a granite boulder and down the other, and for long stretches it may wind over sharp stones that threaten dislocated ankles, or through long, dry grass that seems to drag the feet backward. But even had she wished to go the smoother way, she dare not have risked it, for fear she was overtaken by Blake or Van Tyl. In the kopjes she could hide easily, if either came in sight, but out in the open it might not be possible. So she tramped along in a dogged, determined spirit, only opening her lips occasionally


to hearten the native cook-boy, whose bare feet, though the soles were like thick leather, began to feel the sharpness of the stones. There was very little shade, and the sun poured down upon them mercilessly, while hot air from the heated granite all round rose up into their faces. Bobbie was afraid to put up her sunshade, lest she became a target for observation, so she tied her big hat down at the sides with a long wisp of plaited grass, and tramped on. Her feet began to burn and swell, and the stones seemed to grow sharper and sharper, till she longed to sit down and rest, if only for ten minutes. But ten minutes might mean a man's life, and still she struggled on, thankful when at least she could see the stones, instead of chancing upon them in the long grass and getting many a stumble.After a time the boy stopped and intimated that he could not go
on. He said he was hungry and tired, and the way was too
difficult. Fortunately, Bobbie spoke the Mashona language pretty well,
and, without more ado, she rated him soundly, and told him of all the
things that would happen to him if he dared to disobey a white Inkosikaas.The boy was overawed, and went forward, consoled by a piece of dry biscuit which Bobbie had in her pocket. Then they came to a river that had to be crossed, and once more he attempted to turn deserter. He told her there were crocodiles hidden among the stones, and neither of them could get across alive. Bobbie paid no heed. To let herself listen might be to go unnerved. Nothing should turn her back now. Through the crocodile-infested river, if the boy's tale were true, she must needs press on. The Mashonas are all cowards, and she


well knew that he had probably exaggerated the danger on purpose. At the same time, crocodiles are in the Rhodesian rivers in numbers, and in any deep pool one might be lurking."Come along!" she commanded the boy, arid searched along the river bank for the spot that looked safest, following the guidance of a track where game probably crossed. She was rewarded by finding a spot where great slabs of granite stretched across to the opposite bank, and they both crossed safely with merely wetting their feet.Then the pitiless urging began again, under a sun only too surely beginning to sink in the horizon. A terror seized her lest she should be too late, and she quickened her pace resolutely, in spite of aching, swollen feet and exhausted limbs. Once the native, with a frightened exclamation, showed her lion spoor on their path; but, with a light indifference she was far from feeling, she told him that it was old, very old spoor, and the lion would be miles away by now. She was not afraid of the king of beasts by daylight, but if the dusk found them still trekking, and an old marauder or a lioness with young crossed their path, then no warning might ever reach the camp that seemed so distant. They heard baboons barking somewhere up above them, but she hastened the boy along, still refusing to be daunted; and when he showed her a snake gliding away through the long grass, she only laughed, and told him they would soon be there."Long way to Shagann's," he kept saying-- "long way--long way!"But she only answered, "No, no, nearly there now," and he had to press forward.Sometimes,as she struggled on, she wondered what all the others were doing. Had Betty been able to get more credit for the stores they needed? If not, had she sent the cable they had planned between them to the bachelor uncle, who would perhaps lend them money in an extremity? But, of course, they would get the credit. The bills always had been paid in the end, and store-keepers were more generous to miners than farmers. Anyhow, all the machinery was there, and the boys had this great hope of gold in the disputed claim if they won it.Then her thoughts would turn to Toby. Where was he? What doing? She
bit her teeth together hard, tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled
over a stone giving a little cry of pain as she wrenched her
foot. Where had he gone to? When would he come back? Would he ever
come back? She seemed to know by instinct he was suffering a wild,
unreasonable bitterness; but it was none the less real suffering, and her heart ached in unison. What was he thinking of her now-- what dreadful things imagining about her? as she fought her way along that difficult path to save a man's life? If she failed, what would she do then? How could she bear her life with the burden of such a failure, and Toby lost to her? But she
must not fail. Let her die rather than that--drop dying beside his camp, if need be, rather than fail to save him.They came out upon a ridge, and the native showed her, across a vlei, the kopje upon which Shagann's kraal was built. It did not look very far, but Bobbie knew well how deceptive distances are in Rhodesia, and guessed it might still be some


miles on; and already the sun was getting the red tinge of sunset, and the moon would not rise for two hours. In the time between, the foul deed would be perpetrated unless she reached Sir James before the dark fell. The path wound down a slight incline, and she started to run, only to find her breath came in difficult gasps, and she was obliged to stop to recover herself. No, hurrying over-duly would only defeat her own end. She must keep on at the steady walk, and trust to the God above to enable her effort to be successful. She glanced at the sky, and an unspoken prayer passed upward to the silent enfolding heaven. How silent, how brazen, it seemed to her harried spirit! This terrible wrong, this acute crisis, down on the suffering, panting earth, and up there, where God is, only calm, majestic indifference. The granite kopjes themselves were not more coldly mute than that still firmament. Ah, that she could wring God's heart with pity, that He gave her wings to fly!Down they went into the vlei, and found yet another river barring the way. In an agony of indecision she glanced first one way and then another, fearful of losing a moment, in seeking vainly for the best crossing. But the native had revived at sight of the distant kraal, and, instead of hindering her, he passed quickly up the river, signing to her to follow him, until he came to game tracks. These immediately followed, and as before they found a reasonably good crossing.Then up the other side, panting, struggling, hurrying, as the path wound round a bouldered, impassable kopje. It seemed as if the path had


grown more difficult with every mile, but the near approach to the end of their journey heartened them. For a moment, alas! it made them reckless. To avoid a long wind, they sought to climb over a boulder, and, in descending the other side, Bobbie slipped and fell. For a dreadful space she feared she had hurt herself badly. But the native helped her to rise, and she found she had only sprained her wrist; but if the pain did not turn her faint, she could still go on. She ripped a long piece of linen from the bottom of her skirt, and sent the boy hurrying to the nearest water to soak it. While he was gone, she prayed silently that the pain might not sicken her, so that she was unable to walk, and once again schooled every power of endurance to its utmost endeavour. When the native came with soaking bandage, they bound the wrist up tightly, and then he pulled a handkerchief from his waist and offered it to her. Glad of the relief of the sling, Bobbie accepted it at once, and the boy cleverly made himself a belt of a piece of thin fibre from the bark of a tree, and they pressed forward once more.But the pain in her wrist seemed to be draining away the little strength she had left. Her head swam and ached, and she felt hardly able to see where to plant her feet. She wondered if she had better send the boy on alone, for fear presently she fainted and could not give him the necessary directions. Yet how should she know he faithfully carried out what she told him, or was perhaps overcome somewhere by fright, and merely crouched hidden in the rocks?No, while she could stand, she must go. Surely


God would not let her faint when she was just at the goal! She stumbled again badly, and found herself clinging to the branch of a small tree to save herself from falling, while all the world seemed to swim round her. Still holding tightly to the branch, she opened her lips to tell the boy he must go on ahead and bring the white man to help her, noting with agonising dread that already the dusk was upon them, and the dark at hand.But while she stood, recovering as well as she could from the dreadful faintness, the boy hurried forward to a bend alone.Then he came quickly back, with relief all over his face."The camp!" he cried. "The camp is quite near now! I can see the fire!"Bobbie looked up at the stars overhead and felt a new lease of strength in her veins."Let me get there!" she prayed. "O God in heaven, let me get there!"CHAPTER XV.
BLAKE'S ANGER.IN the meantime, away at Blake's pretty bungalow, a strange fury had possessed the man, who found himself suddenly thwarted in the very hour of triumph.When he gave in to Bobbie's request, and promised to leave her to rest unmolested for an hour, he had done so believing his victory was won. Although she baffled him, his vanity would never have allowed him seriously to suppose it was anything but a woman's trick to make him more keen. He believed women were at heart tricksters first and foremost, getting the things they wanted by feminine wiles instead of masculine strength. And he rather approved of the spirit than otherwise. Certainly, in Bobbie's case, he approved of an action which would add to his own pleasure. If she had given in too suddenly from her uncompromising attitude of the past months, he would have thought far less of her than in this unaccountable bewildering mood. So he recognised that she really did look very tired, and would be all the fresher and more entertaining after a rest. He decided to give her a full hour, and then, after a cosy cup of tea, he would take her leisurely home, and ride to his appointment with


Van Tyl afterwards. His horse would do the ten miles in little over an hour, and he could easily ride across veldt to avoid leaving tell-tale tracks.After which decision he went off to his tobacco beds, feeling the dream of his life might soon be realised. To do him justice, he was not indifferent to the ugly features of his past, nor how it might appear to Bobbie. He wished with all his heart that it had been very different, for her sake. But since wishing did no good, he told himself that, if he was careful where he took her, she need never know, and the one and only obstacle he need truly fear was the one about to be removed--namely, Sir James Fortescue. Once secure from him, and sure of Bobbie, he would try to atone for some of his evil deeds by being a generous, faithful slave to his wife. After all, everything in Nature was preying upon something else. Were men so very different to animals? Strength, or wile, or desperate ruse-- the victory was to the most daring and fearless, as a rule, and who cared about the means?"God! Who was God? What was God?" he asked in his self-gratification. A superstition at best, which men of brains and might laughed at. The victory was to the strong and daring, and he was of them. He would be a fool to let himself be baffled now. If one last crime would give him the thing he desired more than he had ever desired anything in his life before, what was one last crime to a record like his? And, after all, the idea had not originated with him. He dwelt upon that thought not a little as he sowed his tobacco beds. Van Tyl was the murderer, not he; in self-defence he had only said he would not interfere. Had he done


otherwise, Van Tyl was capable of a double murder. But first and foremost still was his desire of Bobbie. If Sir James had a chance to speak, he knew he must certainly lose her for ever. Perhaps, if she had remained obdurate, things might have looked different; but now that she had relented to him, nothing in heaven or earth should stop him. He thought of her resting on his verandah, for all the world as if she belonged there, and it was all he could do to restrain his impatience to return to her. When he did go back, and she was refreshed, what a perfect hour they would have before returning to the huts! His eyes gleamed under the low brim of his hat. Surely she was too sensible a girl to be squeamish with a nan who adored her? Surely-- His thoughts ran on tempestuously. He started up from his work, thinking he would go back now. Why waste time on tobacco beds? He need not interrupt her rest, if he sat quietly where he could see her. He walked a short distance up the path and then stopped. Probably she would be vexed with him for coming, and he would lose ground again. Evidently she was a young woman who expected her wishes to be regarded as law. He smiled at the thought. Hitherto he had been the one to expect that. Hitherto women had had to bend to his decree. But with Bobbie the strange thing was that he did not even want that condition of affairs. It pleased him better, at any rate at present, that he should bow to her decree. It meant novelty, and it amused him. So finally he turned back to his beds. He would not vex her by appearing before the stipulated hour was up.Then his thoughts turned to Toby, and he laughed


a little cruelly. Evidently Toby's discovery had knocked him backwards. No doubt he thought she had been serious in encouraging him, and had built castles in the air for the future. Of course, it would be a great shock to find her spending the day alone with such a man as he. He could hardly mistake the purport of the visit, nor all it portended in the future. He laughed again when he remembered their familiar attitude. That had been admirably stage-managed by Fate. He could not have done it better himself. No doubt, from the doorway, he would appear to be embracing Bobbie from behind. And Toby would think himself mercilessly gulled, and likely enough fling away from the neighbourhood altogether. He was just the sort of youth to throw everything to the winds at a moment's notice. Well, for his part, he hoped he would. He certainly did not want him, in his anger, to commence making investigations with a hope of damaging him in Bobbie's eyes. If he only went far enough, and stayed long enough, he hoped to be securely married before his return, and then it would be useless to make trouble between them. He rather wondered Bobbie should have seemed so taken aback, but doubtless it was the suddenness and surprise. She could not seriously mind whether Toby were offended or not. He would chaff her about it afterwards, and pretend she had been frightened.When the hour was up he gathered together his seed bags, gave some
final instructions to the natives working near, and returned to the
house. Instead of entering at the front, he took a detour in order to approach at the side where Bobbie was resting. He thought, if she had fallen asleep and not yet


awakened, he would kiss her, and watch her flushed surprise.He crept up to the pretty creeper-covered trellis- work and peered through. The chair was there in which she had reclined, but it was empty. He was surprised, but decided she had gone inside to tidy her dishevelled hair, perhaps. He stole softly on to the verandah and crept round to the front of the bungalow and into the sitting-room. Emptiness here also. How strange! Had she gone into one of the other rooms? A note lay on the table, but he did not for the moment pay any heed to it. He went into the other rooms in search of her. And still he found only emptiness, and, with growing wonder, returned to the sitting-room. This time he observed the note more closely, and recognised her handwriting. With a dull feeling, half of wonder and half of anger, he picked it up and read it. Then he read it through again, and an ominous blackness came over his face. As has been seen, Bobbie had merely said that she felt so feverish she thought it wisest to get away home at once, in case she were in for an attack of malaria, and urged him not to follow her.Blake stared at the note, and back into his mind came the baffled, non comprehending sense, mingling with his angry disappointment.If she were really feverish, why go home alone? Why not have sent a boy to fetch him? Was she really feverish? Then across his mind came the thought--what if she were playing with him as well as Toby? She had wanted an adventure, and had sought to make him her tool, perhaps. At the notion he was conscious of a dull fury against her. She


should find she could not play with such as he with impunity--with
Toby, perhaps, not with Harry Blake I He turned to the door, prepared
to go after her at once and have it out there and then. The only thing
that deterred him was the fear of losing control of himself, and
saying things that he might afterwards regret, using words that would
horrify her possibly, and frightening her by a knowledge of what his
temper was. Of course, once they were married, that sort of thing
would not matter. She was bound to find out some day that he had a
fiendish temper when roused, but there was no sense in letting her
know it before he was sure of her. So, for a little, he raved round
his house, beside himself with mortification. He felt a longing to
shake her. He felt he must vent his fury on someone, and looked round
for a suitable object. From the open door he saw a boy who should have
been herding cattle approaching. He went outside and thundered to him
to know what he wanted at the house at that hour. The boy, terrified
at his manner, stammered out that a calf had got bogged, and was
sick. Without a moment's warning, Blake snatched up his heavy
riding-crop and flew at him. "I'll teach you to let calves get
bogged!" he said savagely, and proceeded to thrash the boy till he screamed for mercy. When he had finished with him, he strode back into the house, and, finding the house-boy laying the tea-table for two, swore at him in foul language and almost kicked him out of the room.But the sight of the tea-cups for two brought back a memory of lunch, and steadied him a little. After all, perhaps she had been afraid of malaria;


and, of course, to be laid up in his house would have been seriously compromising. But then, why not have sent for him? Surely, if she were learning to care for him, she would naturally have sent at once. It was madness to walk back alone feeling ill. What if she had turned ill and faint on the way? He read
through the note again, and gathered she was only afraid of an
attack. Still, it might have come on quickly. He had better go and
look for her at once. It was nonsense to tell him not to come until
the morrow. It was not likely he could leave her alone if she were
ill. As an after-thought, he sent for the cook-boy, who is always the
head of an establishment. He asked him what time the Inkosikaas had left. The boy, in view of his recent outburst, looked confused and frightened, and stammered he did not know she had gone. As house-boys generally retire to their huts in the afternoon for a laze, there was nothing unusual in their not being aware of her departure, and, in a mollified voice, Blake asked him if he had gone to his kia after lunch. The boy admitted that he had, and Blake decided that Bobbie had tried to find someone to bring a message to him, and, failing any house-boys, had finally gone off alone. Still, he thought he had better go and see how she was, and gave orders for his horse to be brought round, when a native arrived with a scribbled message from Van Tyl."Come at six o'clock instead of seven o'clock," it ran, and was unsigned, except for a mark in the corner, which he had known Blake would understand, for they had used it often in the old days.Blake cursed under his breath, glanced at the clock, and knew that he must get ready to start for

 
Shagann's almost immediately. Bobbie must have her way, and be left until the morrow. Anyhow. Hulatt would be there for the night.Half an hour later saw him cantering across the veldt--where he would leave no tell-tale spoor-- towards the spot on the far side of Fortescue's camp just below Shagann's kraal, where he was to meet Van Tyl. There he was to remain in hiding until the time came to hasten to Loka kopje and move the pegs, so that half the summit of the hill came into Van Tyl's claim. Van Tyl had not asked him to go to the camp at all. It was unnecessary, and also unwise for any footmarks that might look suspicious to be found there. He himself would watch events from a safe hiding-place at hand, and report when the hour came for them to move.When Blake found him, a gloating, villainous satisfaction made his face more evil than usual, All his plans had worked satisfactorily, and he felt victory was in his hands. The old score would be wiped out, and the gold his, before the sinking sun reappeared to herald a new day.In their hiding-place he related to Blake the good fortune of Sir James's carriers going on ahead and leaving only three boys with him, of whom two would soon be at the kraal beer drinking with the rest."They've been at it two days," he said, leering. "Old Shagann saw to it that the supply should be unlimited, and almost the whole kraal, women as well, are dead drunk. You could cart half of them away already, and put them anywhere without their knowing they were being moved. The strongest beer has been saved for the two carriers, and they'll probably be as drunk as the rest in an hour or so.""And after we've moved the pegs?""I've made a short cut for myself down the far side of Loka hill. It's like a precipice, but I've been down it once, and I can get down again, especially now I've cut away one or two trees. But Sherlock Holmes himself wouldn't expect a man to have gone down there in the night; and they'll never suspect anyone was up there tampering with the pegs, for any tracks we make as we go, we'll cover over. At the bottom of the precipice I've hidden my bicycle. I'll have to wheel it across veldt about two miles, and then I strike the Chinanga track to Geegi and travel like the devil, so that I ride into the Loma police camp from the opposite direction, and later on go to Geegi and down to the Transvaal until the inquiry has blown over.""And you think it is wise for me to stay here?" Blake asked a little doubtfully."Of course it is. You'll get sharp back home, and be asleep in bed when your boy brings the morning tea. Do you want me to take a solemn oath as I won't give you away?"--with his evil smile."Damn your oaths!" Blake replied. "Have you ever kept one yet?"Van Tyl looked amused. "Well, I guess there's more reasons than one why you'll want me to keep my mouth shut in future. The fair lady might not. believe my word like she would believe Sir James's, but she wouldn't much like the notion as I was a friend of yours before I was told off to serve fourteen years. But there--it'll suit us both to keep quiet in future, and that's the best safeguard of all. I dunno as I shan't be getting 'spliced' myself, and it wouldn't suit me to have Fortescue for a


neighbour any more'n it would you. I can get a slick-up, well-educated young woman with all the oof we're goin' to dig, and, if any man gets in my way, he's got to go." And he spat on the ground to emphasise his declaration."And if the scheme miscarries?" Blake asked, more from curiosity than anything."How can it miscarry? Who's going to crop up and interfere at the last moment in this God-forsaken district? With one policeman to patrol about sixty square miles, how's he goin' to know half the kraals in his beat? Who is there else, besides them two young idiots with their empty gold mine, who've both gone off to Geegi most conveniently, that blamed fool with his Kaffir store, and the chap over at Zieman's-Hellatt, or Hulatt, or some such name? If Fortescue don't want trouble, he shouldn't go lookin' for it in a wild part of the country like this. He's got gold enough elsewhere. He should have left this find to me an' a few pals. I expect he's the bloke who gave away my brother for setting the niggers on to track and kill the big buck, so that he could trade the meat. He gave 'em beads and limbo in exchange for the meat, and sold it at the kraals nearer civilisation. Made a rare good thing of it, too, what with a few cattle thrown in! I only heard of it after I came out o' quod. Mighty sick about it he was. Why can't the darned fool mind his own business? I guess we're goin' to teach him to in future! Miscarry!" and he laughed. "By God, no! When I lay traps, I lay 'em well. And when I pay off old scores, I pay well. And Fortescue is to get his share of my skill to-night."CHAPTER XVI.
VAN TYL SHOOTS.IN the meantime, while Bobbie Glynn fought her way through the difficulties of the kopje path to get to Sir James, his preparations for the night went on apace. He was not a man who talked much with his boys--only a few may do that without loss of dignity--but as the emissaries from Shagann's kraal retired with the salt and matches they had asked for, he looked after them quizzically and remarked to his personal boy Jim: "Pretty evil-looking scoundrels! I wonder they are not drinking with the rest.""Bad kraal, Shagann's," Jim answered. "Mashonas no use there. All Mashonas round here lazy, no good."Sir James laughed. "Plenty of wives to work?" he suggested. "No need for husbands to do anything."Jim grinned, looking rather scornful. "Women no good, either. Dirty, lazy, too."Jim was a northern boy, and he had little but scorn for the Mashonas at any time, who are of a very inferior race. To the northern tribes they represented merely a people who were overcome yearly by the Matabele, and had their few warriors killed and their young women and children raided.Their resistance was half-hearted and feeble, and consisted chiefly in retiring to fastnesses in the kopjes, where they hid until the Matabele grew tired of looking for them and went back to their own country. Although few tribes have any written records, things like these are always known, and the sturdy northern boys held them in great contempt. But among Jim's tribe there were many boys who would stand by their masters through anything, and be ready to die defending them. One of his brothers was the proud possessor of a watch bearing an inscription relating how the owner had saved his master's life. It was a family heirloom they justly valued beyond any other possession, and Jim was never tired of talking about it. His brother, M'Tana by name, had gone on a shooting expedition with a well-known hunter in Northern Rhodesia. One day, after a long, weary tramp of many miles, they started homewards towards evening without having seen any game at all. Then suddenly a sound, half growl and half roar, aroused them, and they saw a solitary lion watching them from some grass about two hundred yards away. The fact that he stood and watched them, making his muttered protest, showed that he was probably an old marauder, the worst of all to encounter, as they cannot get their food so easily as the younger. and more agile. Likely enough, too, he had had a bad day's hunt and was fiercely hungry.M'Tana eyed him keenly. "Don't shoot, Baas," he said, as his master raised his rifle. "Light not good enough. He bad, angry lion."But his master was disgusted with his long, useless tramp and unlucky day, and, taking no notice, he


aimed carefully and fired. With a great roar of fury the lion sprang
into the air, and they saw at once he was only slightly hurt, just
enough to make him thoroughly dangerous. The next moment, in headlong
rush, he was coming for them. The hunter dropped to his knee and
waited, taking steady aim, while the native clambered into the nearest
tree,and several other boys with them ran for their lives and
vanished. But the long day in the hot sun, walking fruitlessly, had
exhausted the sportsman, and when he fired he missed his kill and
again only wounded. A second later the lion sprang upon him and pinned him down to the ground. In such circumstances most natives would have run away, but M'Tana crept down from his tree and swiftly approached the prostrate man.The rifle! the hunter gasped, and with his free arm pushed it towards him. A terrible moment followed, in which the boy said that he did not know how to use it, and, writhing in agony, the hunter explained as well as he could, while the lion tore through his leather gaiters as it crouched across his legs. Then the boy raised the rifle, held it close to the lion's head, pulled the trigger, and saved his master's life. When he was asked afterwards what reward he would like, he chose only a watch bearing the inscription describing his deed. This he guarded jealously night and day, knowing well it would be a good talisman for ever where there were white people, and all his relations basked in the light of his bravery.Jim had come south for the sake of the higher wages paid, ten years ago, and he had been with Sir James Fortescue ever since. Because of his


excellence, Sir James had dispensed with his white valet for good, and he was wont to say he wanted no better service. Jim starched and ironed his shirts and collars as well as any laundress, darned his socks, sewed on his buttons, and, if necessary, did the shopping and cooking. Few white men-servants are to be compared with a really good black one, for they stand upon no dignity as to their own sphere of work, and willingly do whatever is wanted. And if they are thieves inborn, at least it is only things that are easily replaced, such as food and tobacco. Money they scarcely ever take, though it lies about under their hands for days.It was evident, on this particular evening, that Jim did not approve of the two other carriers going to the beer-drink at the kraal. First he harangued them, and, finding they only laughed at him, ventured a protest to Sir James. But Sir James was always very easy-going on trek, and he saw no harm in it, provided they did not stay long. So, when they had fetched water and wood, they went off, having undertaken to come back early. Then Jim spread the little camp-table with a spotless tablecloth and well-cleaned silver, and set himself to prepare a savoury dinner consisting of a nice fat pheasant and buck rissoles and "Welsh rare bit."Sir James sat idly in his chair and watched the lovely changing lights in the sky as the sun sank to the horizon. That curious trait of Rhodesia, the lovely mauve effects, was very much to the fore to-night, and he gazed dreamily as the pinky-purply shades stole over the landscape and sky, mingling exquisitely with the more usual blue and crimson


and gold. As often before, he felt regretful that so lovely a land should be so difficult to reach from home, because of the time and expense of the journey, and wished that great numbers of sturdy Englishmen might flock out to people the vast untenanted spaces. Of course, they would come some day; but while Canada and Australia were able to count their thousands yearly, Rhodesia was held back by the high expense of getting there and the heavy cost of living. He wished he were a multi-millionaire, and could give his wealth to improving the conditions, for his faith in the richness of the country was unbounded. Then his thoughts turned again to the Glynns and their plucky uphill struggle, and he decided, as soon as his new mine was opened on Loka kopje, he would offer one of the brothers the managership. His mind ran on, and he wondered if either would accept a post, supposing he heard of one, somewhere near Lobenwayo. He did not consider their mine a suitable place for the two girls to live, and cogitated if, for their sake, he could not think out a plan. He gathered from observation that they were very short of money, and probably had no choice between a home with their brothers or seeking posts among strangers. And he rather admired the spirit that made them brave the wilderness, to make those unpretentious huts home-like for the young miners as long as they could pay their way. Yet, if stern necessity were about to break up the strange little home, he thought he would be glad to help them to start afresh nearer to civilisation rather than lose sight of them altogether. Still musing on the problem, he sat down absent-mindedly to his dainty repast, wishing meanwhile that Shag-


ann's kraal and all it contained was at the bottom of the sea, because of the irritating, incessant noise of the tom-toms. All Mashona kraals give themselves up to beer-drinks occasionally, and then, for anyone dwelling near, the noise of the tom-toms is a nerve- racking misery. Legislation has restrained it up to a certain point, but, wherever police supervision is far distant, they still occur regularly, and may be heard far over the countryside throughout the night.By the time he had finished dinner, it was quite dusk, and, as he did not feel inclined to read, he went into his tent for the night. But, standing at the entrance, to take a last glance round, he thought he heard a faint shout come across the vlei from the direction he had journeyed in the morning. He asked Jim about it, but the boy only shook his head, and said he could not hear for the noise at the kraal. In any case, it was likely to be some night bird, and Sir James entered his tent without any misgivings. Fifteen minutes later he got into his little camp-bed and blew out the candle. Jim cleared away the remains of the repast, put the plates on one side to wash in the morning, rolled himself up in his blanket, and was soon fast asleep at the side of the tent. Over all the quiet stars looked down, while the deep hush of the Rhodesian ' evening lay upon the wide horizon, broken only by the discordant sounds of tom-toms where the blot of a group of humans drank and revelled.But in the silence and the darkness the watching stars saw yet other humans--securely hidden near the river, whispering low together, two men whose every movement showed them wound up to some


extreme tension, the one, grim, hard, defiant, an Englishman; the other, low and coarse, even in his tension, his whole face expressing a story of long years of reckless sinning and bestial living, hardened and intensified by many years in a South African prison, a man of whom no one could expect mercy, or other than brutality.And in the bush just above the now silent little camp, three dark figures, creeping, gliding, crawling stealthily, each armed with a murderous native axe, and with evil faces full of greed and cunning, gloating already over the gains they anticipated. What was it to them if the victim they sought was the strength and leader of a young country, urgently needing to be led --a man who had done as much as any white man better the condition of their race, protecting them from their perpetual enemy, the Matabele, and helping to win for them the enlightened treatment that checks disease and suffering? Down there in that isolated district they cared nothing for civilisation, did not want it, scorned its benefits. Among themselves they were content to fight and quarrel and drink beer while the women worked, and, as for the Matabele--well, they could always hide. If killing this white man was to give them the quantities of matches and tobacco and limbo the Dutchman had promised, with money to buy cattle, and obtain more wives to brew more beer and grow more meal, naturally they would make a good try to carry out the monstrous plot. Unfortunately for them, they believed in this open-handed Dutchman and his promises. Anyone who could give them all the things he gave, and promise all that he promised, was a man to follow. And then


it was so simple, the white man asleep there in his tent unarmed, and only one native from an arrogant alien tribe to guard him. It would be good to kill a native from that tribe, who jeered at them, if they chanced to encounter each other, for being dirty and lazy and cowards!And all the time the stars gazed down, seeing, seeing, and making no sign. It seemed that surely a meteor might have fallen beside that silent little tent and aroused its occupant, or a thunderstorm have come up and blown the canvas away, uprooting trees and sending deafening echoes among the hills, so that neither white man nor black could sleep in peace; or even a monarch of the wilderness, led by an unseen hand, have crept stealthily into that awful waiting stillness and roared menace and defiance at the dastardly overhanging fate. Was it that those myriad watching eyes in the far heavens saw and did not care? Was the world so big, so vast, and one human of so little consequence, that they but twinkled on in utter unconcern? Or was help at hand? Was a warning coming in time?What was that again, over there by the vlei? Nearer now, near enough to catch its gasping, agonised note--a sound like a shout, a shout that seemed to cry out urgently: "Sir James, Sir James, get up, get up!"The two men by the river were aroused at last, and the stealthily creeping natives paused. Van Tyl muttered a dreadful curse and listened with every nerve tense. "Is that a human voice?" he asked, and cursed again. Blake listened, too, with a deep perpendicular line between his eyes, grinding his teeth together. A second, and the call came again,


still a little nearer, the call of a human approaching. Reeling off curses without a pause, Van Tyl got to his feet and peered from his hiding-place, with his gun at full cock. Desperation was in his face. He had staked too much. If he were baulked now, someone should pay with a life. Blake sat still and waited. Suddenly the dying embers of Sir James's camp fire flared into a bright flame, which lit up the scene immediately around it, lit up the little tent, with its flap thrown back to let in air, lit up the huddled sleeping form of the native in his blanket. Sir James stirred in his sleep and half opened his eyes, conscious of a strange uneasiness, of some unaccountable tension filling the air.Then into the flickering light stumbled a figure, dragging itself painfully and gaspingly towards the tent. "Sir James!" cried the agonised voice once more, and the figure stood a moment outlined against the white canvas.Sharpened by love, Blake's unerring instinct recognised her instantly. "My God!" he exclaimed, "it's Bobbie Glynn!"Then he saw Van Tyl sharply raise his gun, and made a frantic grab. Too late! A shot rang out, striking terror into those who heard it, and then tearing in reverberating echoes amid the silent hills. Almost at the same moment Blake closed with Van Tyl, but a terrific blow from an iron fist sent him reeling down the bank into a limp heap on the ground. Meanwhile, at sound of the shot, Sir James snatched up his revolver and dashed outside, just in time to see Bobbie's face as she staggered, reeled, and fell at his feet, shot by the Dutchman's bullet.CHAPTER XVII.
JIM'S HEROISM.DIRECTLY Sir James saw Bobbie fall, he dropped on his knee beside her, indifferent to the fact that he was now a target for any would-be murderer, and forgetful of all except her.Was she badly wounded? Was she dead? A dreadful anxiety filled his mind. His breath came gaspingly and unevenly with the horror of it. Evidently some plot against himself had brought her there. It was in trying to save him she had been shot.He raised her head tenderly, and was conscious of a deep thanksgiving as she moaned and opened her eyes. The shot had not been fatal. Thank God! Thank God!But even as he held her, there was another report, and a shot whizzed past them, cutting clean through the canvas of the tent. In sudden dread Sir James realised their danger, with the murderer still at large, and, hastily gathering her up in his arms, carried her behind a boulder large enough to give them cover. Then, crawling on his hands and knees, he wrenched the canvas up from the back of the tent so that he could creep under it for his gun and his flask. He called to Jim, but received


no answer, and crept back to guard Bobbie as well as he could by the rock.Who the enemy was, and in what number, he had not the slightest idea, and, in spite of himself, he felt a swift horror at their situation. With his back to the rock, he might guard her against one adversary, but if an accomplice crept round behind, they were at their mercy. If only he could see! Gun in hand, he stooped, peering into the darkness from whence the shots had come, and could distinguish nothing but a black wall, whereas the flickering firelight still lit up the white canvas of the tent, and shone upon the rock which sheltered them.Feeling safe in the friendly shelter for a moment, he again knelt down by Bobbie's prostrate figure and tried to force a little brandy into her mouth. She swallowed some and moaned again. He could just distinguish a blood trickle on her shoulder, and, removing the sling from her arm, tried hastily to bind it. Another shot striking the rock made him snatch up his gun again and fire into the darkness from whence the shots came. Instantly the rock was again struck, and he knew he had made a mistake in letting their enemy know where they were.As well as he could, he again gathered her up and crept along to a further rock, returning on his hands and knees for his gun. By this time he had divined that Bobbie was not badly wounded, but was suffering from dead exhaustion. Probably she hardly knew herself that she was shot. He made her as comfortable as he could, and, with ready-poised gun, waited for the chance that some assailant might become sufficiently visible for him to take a


steady aim. If, on the other hand, as was probable, the enemy crept up to them and fired at close quarters, he knew it meant death both for himself and his deliverer. In an agony of doubt, he meditated carrying her boldly across a little open space. into some boulders near the river, where they might more safely lie concealed till morning. But, to do this, he must cross the firelight, and he feared it might only mean certain death more quickly to one or both of them. At least they were the safe side of their rock now, and it seemed unlikely anyone could get round to approach them without his having a chance to fire. It seemed only too sure that death was the intention of the man by the river, doubtless desperate now because some scheme of his had miscarried.This was indeed the truth. Suddenly the gold meant nothing. Vengeance was the one thought uppermost. Van Tyl swore with dreadful oaths he would kill Sir James and this person who had baulked him, and then he would get away, and get clear of the country into Portuguese territory, and hide there until it was safe to go to the coast. And, seeing his immense advantage, he probably would have achieved this had it not been for the heroism of Jim, the devoted native.When Sir James called to him and received no reply, and feared he had deserted, he was already planning to save him. Awakened suddenly by the shot, he had been a few seconds before he realised what was happening. Then, in the firelight, he had seen the woman on the ground and Sir James bending over her as the second shot whistled over their heads and passed through the tent. Instantly
 picture included in body of Page's "The Pathway"
he was alert. Down there by the river was a man trying to kill his master. His simple duty was to kill the man. He waited a breathless second while Sir James carried Bobbie behind the rock to safety, and then wriggled like a snake along the ground through the shadows towards the danger zone. A few seconds later he descried the dark shadows of the three Mashonas lurking hidden in the bushes, uncertain whether to rush in with their axes or let the white man finish the killing himself. Seeing the gleam of axes, Jim realised that there were other the man at the river, and crept noiselessly close to the Mashonas. Then with deadly swiftness and precision, making a low growl like a leopard, he leaped upon the nearest nigger and caught him by the throat, pinning him down to the ground.Terrified out of their senses by the suddenness of the attack, the other two fled into the bush, while Jim seized the axe of the third one and knocked him senseless. If Van Tyl heard anything, he did not heed. He had almost forgotten that the three murderers were lurking near. Blake still lay in a senseless heap on the ground, and his victims were hiding close beside the tent. A dreadful lust of killing possessed him, and for swift vengeance. He had plenty of cartridges in his belt, and he meant the two souls, so desperately at his mercy, should be dead by morning. Taking steady aim, he waited rigidly for the moment when he believed Sir James would creep from the shelter of the rock to try and engage him in the open. He knew him for a fearless soldier, and did not believe he would be long content to crouch in hiding. By approaching nearer, he now commanded every avenue of escape. Once

 
more it seemed that nothing but a miracle could save the man and woman by the rock. If he remembered the one black attendant at all, he supposed him to be still huddled in the blanket in the firelight, half dead with fright. Nothing in Van Tyl's life had ever brought him into contact with the fine qualities of a native. Always he had treated them worse than he treated his dogs; and, like beaten dogs, they had served him under compulsion, until they could safely run away. That one should be willing to risk his life for his master would have been but a silly jest to him, who had always known that his would take their master's life if they dared. So he stood silently waiting, his gun steadied against a tree, until the expected moment when his victim should creep from his cover, only to roll over dead. After that, he reflected, with satisfaction, the woman still in hiding would certainly be unarmed. His mouth twitched with a cruel expression at the thought. He would go and see who this woman was who had baulked his carefully-laid scheme. He would let her beg and pray for her life, grovelling to him on her knees, beseeching his pity. And then-- The evil expression on his face grew diabolical. He reflected that she was a woman--probably a lady. There were worse things than mere killing for one of that type. He had a vengeance to wreak on her as well now. Well, he would wreak it. She should wish the first shot fired had killed her before he put her out of her misery.But Sir James was reflecting, too. Evidently some desperate person, well-armed, was seeking his life. If he took any step to endanger it unnecessarily, he must inevitably leave Bobbie to


the full fury of the murderer. All his blood clamoured to meet this dastardly enemy hand to hand and face to face without any more ado; but, if he got the worst of it, what about this woman who had so splendidly saved his life? For himself he bad never known fear. For her, he must needs run no risk he could possibly help. If only he had his revolver and could give it to her, he thought he would have dared more. But it was in the tent, and the risk of getting it was too great.So the breathless moments passed. Once more silence hung over the scene.Once more the stars blinkled coldly, heartlessly, down. It was as though the powers of light and Darkness were waging some desperate duel, while the earth looked coldly on, and the outcome hung in the balance. Or did the powers of light shield that silent dark form noiselessly wiggling through the bush and grass towards the enemy? One snapped twig, one hint of what the dark object was, and a shot might promptly end its stealthy course. But Jim was too clever for that. Through the breathing bush, broken only by a now feeble, solitary, occasional tom-tom struck by a drunken hand in sleep, no snapped twig warned Van Tyl his enemy might not be only in front. A sound came from the rock, and he trained and steadied his gun more carefully, with one finger waiting on the trigger.The next moment he was seized from behind by a black object, and black fingers closed upon his throat in a vice-like grip as they rolled over together on the ground. A native axe gleamed a moment in the starlight, and Van Tyl felt its keen edge on his throat. But he was a powerful man, and, even


as the blood gushed, he wrenched himself away and, in his turn, caught the native's throat and, cursing wildly, jambed the axe down upon him. They wrestled a moment longer, and then the white man's hands relaxed their grip suddenly, and he rolled over motionless."Inkaas," called a faint voice through the darkness, "you are safe! I have killed him!"Sir James had cautiously peered from his shelter at the sounds of the struggle, and been in doubt what course to take. Directly he heard Jim's voice, he divined what had happened, and hastened to the spot from whence it came."Jim!" he cried anxiously. "Jim! Jim!""Here, Baas." The voice was growing feebler now, as the life-blood drained away. In great distress, Sir James found him and knelt beside him striking a match to see better how he might aid him. Then he tore off his pyjama jacket to try and staunch the blood flowing from the wound in his neck, just noticing, before the match blew out, that a white man, with a pool of blood near his head, lay dead on the grass. The native murmured something, and he bent his head to catch the words."A watch," he was saying, "with story that I saved life. Give it to my kraal--tell my brothers.""Yes, yes, Jim, but perhaps I can save you." The boy opened his eyes wide and looked once affectionately at his master, and then, with a gasping in his throat, died.CHAPTER XVIII.
SIR JAMES IS MYSTIFIED.THERE was a mistiness about Sir James's eyes as he straightened the huddled form and covered up the wound. Few men cared for a black servant as he had cared for Jim. That he should have given his life for him touched him to the very depths of his being.Having done all he could for the moment, he turned to look upon the face of his murderer. "Van Tyl!" he murmured in an awe-struck voice. "So you found me here, did you, and sought the revenge you always swore to take?" Then for a moment he gazed silently at the prostrate body. By what amazing chance was he in Rhodesia at all? By what fatality had he known that he, Sir James, would camp alone in that desolate spot tonight? The mystery was too great for him. He could not unravel it, and moved to go back to the tent and get dressed before he tried again to restore Bobbie.When he went to her, he found her lying just as he had left her, apparently in a dead sleep. Evidently, in her terrible exhaustion, she had been unconscious both of her deadly peril and of the brave deed that saved her. With the utmost tenderness he carried her into the tent and laid


her down on his little stretcher bed, lighting his candle and holding it high above her head to look at her."Poor little woman!" he breathed. "Dead beat! I can leave her a little longer; it is better than waking her now."Then he took Jim's blankets and went back to reverently wrap them round the brave boy's dead body. As he did so, a large tear gathered and fell --a soldier's tear for a fine deed meeting with death.Then a noise in the bushes roused him, and he stood up, peering sharply into the gloom. "Who is it?" he asked. And, in answer, the boy who had come with Bobbie dragged himself forward, seemingly half stunned with fright."Who are you?" Sir James asked brusquely, and the boy stammered that he had come with the Inkosikaas. Sir James realised at once that he must have accompanied Bobbie, and represented a help rather than a danger."Help me carry this," the white man ordered; and together they raised the body of the black boy and tenderly carried him back to the tent. Then he took another blanket, and, telling the native to follow him, went to cover up the hideous, distorted face of the Dutchman. Anything further natives might do for him; the white man would reserve his services for the black one who had died for him. Then it was that Bobbie's boy Twilight, in a frightened voice, told Sir James there was a dead white man below the bank."Another?" Sir James asked sternly, not believing his tale. But the boy insisted, and, intimating the dead body of the Dutchman, said


that he had killed him. Finally Sir James went with him to make a search, and came upon Blake, still lying stunned, just as he had fallen."He tried to stop him," the boy explained, again intimating Van Tyl, and by signs made Sir James understand that, at the first shpt, Blake had caught at Van Tyl, and Van Tyl had hit him on the head and killed him."He is not dead, only stunned." And for some moments Sir James was very thoughtful. Could it be that Blake also had come to the rescue, knowing of Van Tyl's undying hate and thirst for revenge? Or--dark thought, indeed--had he been an accomplice? Probably Bobbie would know something. In the meantime the man must be revived. He went back to the tent, reassured himself that Bobbie was still sleeping off her utter exhaustion, and then returned with his flask to Blake. After he had succeeded in making him swallow a little brandy, he came round, and, opening his eyes, asked weakly:"Who are you? Where am I?""I am Fortescue," Sir James answered. "An attack has been made on my camp tonight, and a white man and a native have been killed. Can you help me?" He watched Blake keenly as he spoke, and saw him start and turn an ashen grey, lowering his eyes to the ground.There was a moment's dead silence between them, then Sir James said very quietly: "This native says you tried to stop the man who attempted to murder me. It was good of you. I hope you are not hurt. I owe my life to a faithful black servant, who died saving me."Still with ashen face and lowered eyes, Blake said nothing."Miss Glynn--" began Sir James, and noted that Blake caught his breath and winced visibly. He waited a moment to make the other speak, and presently Blake muttered:"Is she-is she-safe?""I hardly know. The first bullet hit her. I have done all I can for the moment, and she is now sleeping off a dead exhaustion in my tent. I shall be glad of your help to get her home."Another tense silence followed. Blake was asking: "What does he know? What does he suspect?" And Sir James was asking: "How came he to be here? Is it possible he was an accomplice?" But, whatever the answer, he knew he badly needed his help, and that, at any rate, he was not likely to be dangerous any more at present.And Blake, in spite of his weak state, was ruminating anxiously: "How much did she know? If she knows all, will she denounce me at once?"But he, too, saw that more urgent things called at the moment, and, putting on the best face he could, he tried to rise to his feet. Sir James helped him, and, after a little, he found he could stand alone, and made a move for the tent. As they passed Van Tyl's body, with the blanket over it, he seemed to reel a little, but Sir James pretended not to notice."We must get word to the police as quickly as possible," he said. "I must send for my carriers to come back from Loka.""I have my horse here. I could go the quickest," said Blake, seizing the chance to get away before he met Bobbie's accusing eyes."If you feel well enough," said Sir James politely, only anxious that the message should go as quickly as possible, and a policeman arrive, so that he could start to take Bobbie to her home. He would have to get a message to his carriers somehow, and the two who had gone to the beer-drink had never returned. Doubtless they were too intoxicated to walk. This left only Twilight, who, fortunately, was fast recovering his presence of mind, and seemed ready and capable of doing what was needed. So, finally, after a strong whisky and soda and some dry biscuits, Blake pronounced himself equal to the ride, and, after Twilight had brought his horse, prepared to mount and ride away."Where is the nearest doctor?" Sir James asked, noting his furtive, uneasy manner."There is one at Geegi.""Fifty miles away?""Yes, but I think I could reach him tomorrow evening. I had better go on from the Loma police camp.""If you wouldn't mind. I shall get Miss Glynn to her home tomorrow, and, as I have a little skill in surgery myself, I can help to take care of her until he arrives.""I will travel as fast as possible," was all Blake answered. "Probably I can get a fresh horse at the camp."Then he rode away in the moonlight, for the moon was now climbing the sky to light up the tragic scene, and Sir James was alone with Bobbie and her attendant native.He tried to question the boy, but could not learn much from him, except that the Inkosikaas


went away for lunch, and came back afterwards, and made him start with her at once for Shagann's kraal. He told, in the native's short, graphic way,how they had struggled along through the kopjes, and at the last had shouted several times; how, at the river where the crocodiles were, he had to turn her back, and she would not heed him; how she had fallen and hurt her arm, and he run to dip the bandage in the river, and they tied it up and hurried on; finally how, just at last, when they thought to take a short cut where they saw the gleam of his camp-fire, they had come out on the verge of a sheer strip of rock it was impossible to descend, and been obliged retrace their steps to the path, and so lost time."When the Inkosikaas was hurt, why did run away and hide?" Sir James asked sternly. But the boy only hung his head and refused answer. "The Mashonas are not brave like Angonis," Sir James told him, and the boy look sullen. "Now you must go at once to Loka," continued, " and bring all my carriers back. If yo do not know the way, go to the kraal, where two of my boys are, and make some of them guide you. Bring them back at once as fast as you can come."Twilight started off, glad enough to get away from the scene, and Sir James was left alone with; the two silent objects under the spread blankets and the wounded girl, sleeping her heavy sleep upon the stretcher bed. With a heart full of thanksgiving that she was alive, and only slightly hurt, he sat down beside her and gazed long and earnestly into her face."You brave child!" he said at last, in a low,


reverent voice. "How am I ever to repay you?" One limp hand hung over the coverlet beside him, bending forward with a swift, spontaneous movement, he brushed it lightly with his lips. As though the brief contact aroused some fire in his blood, he sat up and became taut and rigid, staring out into the night.Presently, as one waking from sleep, he began heavily to review the
events of the night and try to piece them together. Where had Bobbie
gone to lunch? Could she have gone anywhere but to Blake's? If it had
been Fitzgerald's, he would most certainly have accompanied her. If
Blake's, how was it that she and Blake had apparently arrived at
different times by different routes? Could they possibly have discovered the Dutchman's wicked plot, independent of each other, after separating, and each lost no time in starting at once to warn him ? Or, supposing she had not gone to Blake's at all, might he not have been returning home from some ride he had taken to a distant settler, and so have chanced upon the scene all unconsciously?For, though it looked dangerously as if Blake had been an
accomplice, Sir James was at a loss to find sufficient reason to
account for such an action upon his part. With Van Tyl it was
different. Through Sir James's agency he had served a term of
imprisonment, and he had sworn quite openly that some day he would "do for" the man who had caused him to be found out. Of the wheels within wheels, the adjoining gold claim to his own, and the plot to move the pegs, the plan to use Shagann's natives, Blake's fear that his evidence of his past life would damn

 
him for ever with Bobbie, he knew nothing. Sitting there in the deep stillness, he knew only that an ancient enemy had sought a dastardly revenge, and that, in some mysterious way, Bobbie Glynn had discovered the plot, and, helped by the faithful Jim, had saved his life. Of course, Blake had hated him almost as much in the old days, but it was long ago now, and his manner had been most friendly the previous day.Then, with a sudden start, he remembered that it was by Blake's advice he was camped at that particular spot. The recollection made him set his teeth grimly and peer out into the moonlight, probing further into the line of thought conjured up. If he had not taken Blake's advice and stayed there, he would have gone on with his carriers, and been protected by a bodyguard of boys, who would probably have seized Van Tyl at the first alarm. But then Blake could not possibly know that his carriers would go on! Still, it might not have been difficult for Van Tyl to shoot him at dusk, and then lay the blame upon natives. Men had disappeared that way before now, and it was afterwards recorded as a gun accident or the work of a lawless band of blacks. And, at that, across his mind flashed the recollection that they had said, at the Glynns', Shagann's was a bad kraal, one of the worst remaining, and Blake had pooh-poohed the idea. Doubtless Van Tyl knew it, and meant to fit the circumstance into his plot. But that did not help him in unravelling the mystery surrounding Blake. This baffled him more and more. The men were certainly not friends after the trial fifteen years ago. In fact, Van Tyl had sworn to have


Blake's life as well as Sir James's. So it would hardly be through him that he had come to the neighbourhood. Perhaps, as there had been no secret about his destination when he left Lobenwayo, Van Tyl had followed him down and came across Blake, as he had, by accident. He glanced at the spot where the moonlight shone on the blanket that covered his would-be murderer, and he felt that the world was indeed well rid of him.Then he went outside and stood under the stars a little while, thanking God that he was yet alive, and that the plot to take his life had failed. A wave of deep feeling passed over him as he glanced round at the outline of kopjes, familiar to all Rhodesian dwellers who trek afar from the towns, and an unspoken vow filled his heart to devote himself yet more whole-heartedly and disinterestedly to the country's welfare. "And," was his final thought, "for the sake of Bobbie Glynn, I will do anything that lies in my power to make the life easier for the women of the land." Then he went back into the tent and stood beside the little stretcher bed.As if feeling his presence in her sleep, Bobbie opened her eyes with an uneasy murmur, and with a strained expression tried to look round. "Where am I?" she said; and then, half awake and half dreaming, added: "I must go on! I can't stay--I shall never be in time!" And she tried to get up.Sir James pushed her gently back. "Don't move just yet," he said. "Your work is accomplished. You can lie still now.""Where am I?" she asked again, scrutinising his face half fearfully."I am Fortescue, and you are in my tent. You came to save me, and you succeeded. Through you I am safe."A more restful expression came into her eyes "I was so afraid I should never reach you in time she breathed.""But you did, and now you are worn out. Lie still, and I will make you a cup of tea. You will feel better for a little food. Your boy has go to fetch my carriers, and, as soon as possible, we will make a machila and take you home."She closed her eyes and lay silently while he made his preparations. Then suddenly she opened them wide and asked, with acute anxiety: "Where is Van Tyl? He fired at you. If he is still at' large, he is dangerous. We must not stay here!""We are quite safe now" --gently-- "thanks to your heroism and my boy Jim.""Is he--is he--" She paused, looking at him. with searching eyes."He is dead," he told her simply."Ah, I am glad! Otherwise you would never have been safe." Then, as if some continually fretting fear, that had marred the restfulness of her' sleep, had passed away, she dozed off again before he could give her the tea he was preparing, and was. soon once more dead to everything around her.Sir James could only continue his watch in patience, gazing ever and anon, with great tenderness, at the unconscious head upon his pillow.CHAPTER XIX.
SIR JAMES DREAMS. THUS the night wore on. The moon climbed up from the east, until it shone brightly overhead, lighting up the country round with silvery radiance. Over all there was a great stillness. The very trees were motionless, only murmuring to each other at intervals in softest undertones. Other stars looked down now, wondering, perhaps, at those two dark spots where something lay silent under a blanket; but the stars which understood had mostly gone below the horizon.Almost as motionless as the dead bodies, Sir James sat just inside his tent. A shaded light burned near the little bed where the sleeping figure still slept on. Preparations stood all in readiness for tea-making on the small camp-table. For the rest, it seemed, for the time being, that life had stood still. Sir James hardly knew whether he was thinking or not.Slowly, unconsciously, all his being had become wrapped up in the still form on the bed. Nothing mattered but that, when she woke, he should be waiting to do for her anything that mortal man might do.A spasm crossed his face once, as he remembered

 
their deadly peril when he stooped over her before the tent, and when he tried to shelter her behind the rock. If anything had happened then--if he had failed! If she had been fatally shot, and he still saved by Jim, what would his life have been to him any more without her? Would it be anything without her now?He roused himself from his dream to grapple with a force of
practical common-sense that seemed to be deserting him, and apostrophised himself severely for a fool. Three days ago he had not known of her existence, and he was twice her age. He tried to smile at himself, sitting there in the shadow. Evidently he was not quite as level-headed as he had supposed. He must get himself in hand again quickly. No doubt the startling events of the night had shaken him. So he apostrophised himself once more and watched the silver moonlight.Then the dream came back. He had a beautiful house at Lobenwayo, but no woman reigned there. In his fancy his unruly thoughts pictured to him a tall, slim girl moving with a fresh grace among his treasures--a girl, whose face seemed to have a power of radiating brightness and illuminating the very atmosphere it moved in. When political factions worried and harassed, what a revivifying spirit for a jaded politician's home!With an effort he thrust aside the alluring picture and reminded himself of those fifty years, with their attendant grey hairs. No wonder the dream was full of sweetness for him; but what for her, with the splendid years of her prime all before her?But still the thought came back. After all, how much more he could give her than the man


nearer her own age! With that other there would probably be a long, wearying struggle, those years of prime shadowed by a remorseless uphill fight. With him, though political factions might disturb, she would at least be safe from the harass of any need for money; wealth and position would be hers from the very beginning. But would that weigh anything with a girl like Bobbie Glynn? Alas, he feared not! She did not look the woman to desire ease without raising a finger to win it, to step into ready-made success and know no glow of personal achievement.If he had met her when he was thirty, and together they had stormed the Olympic heights, what a rich satisfaction they might have won from the trials and exigencies of being! With her at his side during the last twenty years, doubtless he would have done far better work, and escaped some incidents that he would fain had never been. But what use to regret now? What good in idle wishing? There was still the future. Who could tell? At fifty a man is still in his prime. Why should he not win her yet, and, through that winning, achieve better work down all the years to come?Whether he would or no, a little hope grew up in his heart and
glimmered brightly. He reflected, with gladness, that if she could but
care for him, there were many ways in which he might serve her. He
could help her brothers on, and probably obtain a good post for her
sister's fiancé, which would enable them to marry at once. When one put all this in the balance, the fifty years seemed to shrink in significance. Provided she was fancy free, the advantages might easily help him to win her heart.He drew near to the little bed again, and stood looking at her with great tenderness in his face. He was still gazing thus, when once more she open her eyes and looked round her anxiously. But her mind was clearer now, and she tried immediately to sit up, only to fall back with a low moan from the pain of the bullet wound in her shoulder and the sprained wrist."Don't try to move for a little," he said tenderly. "You will feel better when you have had something to eat."Bobbie said nothing, but lay still, looking at the opening of the tent, where the stars shone through. Sir James busied himself making tea, leaving her to recover her clearness of mind undisturbed. Then he poured a little brandy into her cup and persuaded her to drink it. After a few minutes she made another unsuccessful effort to sit up, and then Sir James came and sat close beside her."I wouldn't try to sit up; you will feel better lying still. Your shoulder is hurt, as well as your wrist. But my carriers will be here soon, and then I shall take you home, and the doctor from Geegi has been sent for.""Tell me what happened?" she asked faintly."I don't think it is wise for you to talk much at present, but, as you know, Van Tyl fired at me, and the shot struck you. I am thankful to say it is not a bad wound.""And after that?""After that he fired again, but I had carried you behind a rock, and he could not hit us."He paused, and she asked quietly: "And then?""Then my boy Jim crept round through the


brushwood and sprang upon Van Tyl with a native axe in his hand."She started. "A native axe!""Yes. I suppose it belonged to one of my
carriers, and he was lucky enough to find it.""Was--was Van Tyl killed with a native axe?""Yes," he answered, wondering a little at her manner."Ah!" She closed her eyes and was silent a moment. At last she said: "I am glad he was killed that way. It is what he meant for you."It was Sir James's turn to mutter an exclamation. He longed to ask her how she knew, but felt it was too harrowing for her to speak of now, and strove to possess his soul in patience.Then suddenly Bobbie asked: "Was Van Tyl alone?""As far as I know he was." Sir James was silent a moment, then he added: "Mr. Blake, your neighbour, was near him when he first fired, and tried to stop him, your boy says. Van Tyl hit him on the head and made him unconscious instantly."Bobbie stared at the tent-opening with an expression in her eyes that he could not fathom, but she only said: "Where is he now, then?""He has ridden to tell the police and send someone here. He happened, fortunately, to have his horse with him. I do not know where he came from, nor how he chanced to be here."He waited, but she made no further comment, only continuing to gaze out at the stars. She was still too tired to probe deeply. She did not understand yet what part Blake had played in the end.Then suddenly she said: "I sent a note to Mr.
Hulatt, asking him to come.""Mr. Hulatt?" inquired Sir James."Yes. He was to come to the huts for the night to keep me company. I sent the piccanin with a note to ask him to come here quickly, instead.""Then you only knew late in the day?""I found out--by accident. I overheard something. There was no one to send to you; I was afraid to trust a boy. It seemed as if I could never get here in time.""How am I ever to thank you or repay you?" he asked, in a voice of deep feeling. " I have been sitting here thinking about it as you slept. It was a splendid deed. I shall be indebted to you all my life."She smiled a little. "You matter so much. The country needs you. I felt that nothing else mattered at all except saving you.""Few could have done what you did," he replied, his warmth deepening, "all through the heat of the afternoon in those rocky kopjes! I admire you more than anyone I have ever known. It would not have been much for a man, safe-guarded with a gun, but for a girl, with only a frightened native--""How do you know he was frightened?" said Bobbie, glancing at him with a lurking gleam in her eyes."He told me so himself. He was afraid of the crocodiles in the river and the lions in the kopjes. He said you were not afraid of anything.""I hadn't time to be. When we made the mistake just at the last, after seeing your camp 


fire, and came out above the sheer rock, I cried. It was too dreadful to have lost a whole half hour. I was so vexed I had to cry to relieve my feelings. Then, when we came near, I kept calling to you, and I could not make you hear. I thought every moment I should see the natives creep into the tent. It was awful!""The natives?" he asked wonderingly."Yes. I don't think Van Tyl meant to shoot. He wanted to make it look as if only natives had done it.""Of course. I can quite believe that. He would have got innocent natives hanged at any time, if it suited his purpose, or have persuaded them to work his will with promises he never meant to keep. He was a desperate character before he went to prison, and probably he came out worse. I was the cause of his being found out and sentenced for various crimes, and he always swore to kill me."The night wore on, but Bobbie could not sleep again for the pain in her arm, and Sir James tended her with the greatest solicitude. He went down to the river for cold water, and re-bandaged the sprained wrist with the touch of a professional."I have rendered first-aid many times," he told her simply, as she praised his skill.Later he told her how Jim had saved them, and about his brother, and how, when Jim was dying, he managed to ask for a watch."Poor Jim!" he murmured, a little brokenly. "He has been with me for ten years. I shall never be able to replace him."Tears shone in Bobbie's eyes. "I like to hear of a boy like that," she said. "They are not all


thieves and scoundrels. Twilight is a good boy,' but I could not make him understand what was the matter. I could only insist that he came on.""I think you were wonderful to reach me unaided. Did you even know the way?""I knew that there was a path, supposed to be a short cut, but it
is so rough, I doubt if one saves anything. I was afraid to take the
other track, lest I was seen by--by "--she hesitated a moment, and then said--" Van Tyl."Sir James noticed the hesitation, but did not like to press her for particulars."It must have been a terrible ordeal," he said. "How am I ever to
thank you?" Suddenly he leant forward and placed his strong, brown hand on hers. "I owe you my life, Miss Glynn. Believe me, the day will never come when I am not ready to serve you."Her eyes faltered and fell before the expression in his, and he drew himself up a little suddenly, as if afraid his feelings would entrap him into saying more than he felt was fair at such a time."You won't forget, I hope?" he asked softly. "You will at least let me try to pay my debt?""I would rather you did not think of it that way," she answered, in a low voice. "Anyone would have done what I did."Sir James got up and moved to the entrance to look out a moment. He was afraid of harassing her unnecessarily, and determined to keep himself in hand.At daybreak they were disturbed by the sound of feet treading the dry twigs, and the carriers arrived, led by their capitao, in considerable con-


sternation. Sir James went outside and, drawing them aside, told them how an ancient enemy had made an attack on his life, and how Jim had died saving him.Bobbie heard the boys exclaiming in low, awe-stricken murmurs, as she lay inside the little tent. Then Sir James went on to tell them how she had come to save him, and had been hurt, and that they were to make a machila quickly to carry her home. Being mostly northern boys, they knew how to set to work immediately, cutting poles and manipulating the blankets he gave them. When he re-entered the tent, he looked at her anxiously. "I wish we could start at once," he said, "if it were not for leaving Jim.""Couldn't the boys bring the body to our huts?" she asked. "Let him
be buried near us, and we will take care of his grave." "That is good of you," said Sir James earnestly. "I should be very glad. I should like to put up a headstone where any of his tribe passing might see it. I can leave my capitao in charge here until a policeman arrives to take over the case."A few minutes later the boys came to say a white man was approaching, and Hulatt, looking thoroughly mystified, arrived upon the scene. Sir James told him in a few words what had happened, and explained why Bobbie had sent for him, and asked him to remain until the police arrived, while he hastened home with the invalid. Then he lifted Bobbie into the machila himself, and the little party
got ready to start.Bobbie glanced once at the little tent, and the dark object where a blanket hid something on the


ground, and a shiver ran through her. She felt that life had suddenly called her into a strange are cleaving the monotony of the long, silent, anxious months with so tragic a scene. Twenty-four hours before the monotony had still held sway, and now--Suddenly, with a shock of recollection, she saw her mind Toby's face as he had looked at her the doorway in Blake's house, saw its mingling horror and despair and anger, as he flung away with his parting words. A wave of anguish swept over her. Sir James was safe now. The dark deed was foiled, and the murderer would plan no more; but what remained for her? If Toby had indeed flung away into the wide world, how could she ever reach him and explain? Weakened thoroughly all she had gone through, she felt only swift hopelessness crushing down upon her, and fainted away in the machila.CHAPTER XX.
TOBY'S DESPAIR.WHEN Bobbie, overthrown by the poignant recollection of her last sight of Toby, succumbed to the pain and anxiety and exhaustion of the hour, he, Toby, was likewise out under the open skies, with haggard eyes watching the dawn. She had been right when she judged by instinct that the shock would, in a sense, throw him temporarily off his balance.Toby had so built on her, so believed in her, so hoped through her, that, with the eclipsing of her influence, he became like an anchorless ship driven at the mercy of the wind and waves. He felt he would rather have died than lived to find her faithless and unreliable. It shattered all his world at a blow. What use any more to put up with the tiresome details of Rhodesian life, and worry with a store in the wilderness, in order to buy a farm and make a comfortable home? Without Bobbie these things were but idle folly to him. He might as well go into that expensive regiment and fritter away his time at home, or start off across the world,without any definite aim, as a soldier of fortune.If only she had not given her promise that very week to have nothing to do with Blake that she could avoid, he might not have taken the discovery


so violently to heart all in a moment. What would have seemed to him black in any case was infinitely blacker because of that unfortunate promise. Without that she might not have known how bitterly he disliked Blake, and how much he would resent her going to his house. Without that he might have waited to give her a chance to explain. But, in the face of that promise, no loophole remained. On the contrary, it opened the way to accusations and suppositions that otherwise would not have entered his head. He believed now that she had purposely commended his proposition to go to Geegi with the others that she might have an entirely free day. His warped mind ran from accusation to accusation with alarming ease. Perhaps Blake had been playing with her, and she, in her turn, had been playing with him, Toby, to gain ground with Blake. It was Blake's charming house and farm and money she had in her mind all along, and he had been a mere tool.When he tried to pull himself together, and remember how tremendously she had helped him with her friendship and sympathy, and was just succeeding in softening his heart, the damning evidence of the scene in Blake's sitting-room would return with redoubled force, blotting out all else. He now persuaded himself that he had seen Blake's arm round her, and that, as he appeared, Blake had been kissing her. Her utter silence and dumbness were easily explained now. What explanation could she possibly offer of the smallest use at such a moment? What explanation that he could listen to for an instant? Besides, what need of any explanation? The perfidy was there in all its naked


effrontery. He felt she had damned his faith in all women for ever-taken the sun out of his heaven, and the daylight from his life.In the first overwhelming shock, he had only been conscious that somehow or other he must get away. It was during the hours that followed he let himself build up so black a case against her, aided by his warped reason. When he rushed blindly down the steps of the verandah, instant flight was the chief thought in his mind--how to get away so that he need see her face no more, nor the triumphant scorn that had dominated Blake's countenance.In a sharp, short tone, utterly unlike his usual pleasant manner, he told his boy he was going back to the store, and he must follow him quickly. Here, without allowing himself time to think, he threw a few things into a bag, changed into a respectable grey-flannel suit, and prepared to start on his hundred-mile journey to the nearest railway station.He strapped the bag on to the back of the bicycle, filled his whisky flask, stuffed his pocket with dry biscuits, while his boy looked on in astonishment, and then told him he was going away for some time. He gave him the key of the store, and told him to go on trading, and account for stock when he came back. The boy asked him how long he would be, and he said he did not know, but he would send him a message by a white man presently. Finally,without one backward look, with a strangled sensation in his throat, and a deadly sense of injury in his heart, he mounted his bicycle and rode away.The first night he spent out on the veldt, under the stars, little indeed dreaming, as he sat by his lonely fire nursing the bitterness in his heart, that


Bobbie was even then in peril of her life for Sir James Fortescue's sake. He tried not to think of her at all, for, if he did, he was only conscious of a black, despairing sensation that urged temptingly: "What is the good of anything? Why go on at all? Why not finish with it all here under the stars, in the sweet night air?"Once he even took his revolver from his belt and looked at it. But a memory seemed to strike him of the many men who had committed suicide in Rhodesia for one reason or another, and how weak and paltry it always seemed. He would not be as weak as that if he could help it. After all, he was the son of a distinguished soldier. He would not disgrace his father that way. He would take the more manly method of reckless daring and careless devilry. Once get away from the country where she had been so much to him--had, indeed, been all his world--and he would find a way to drown memory and fling despair to the winds. His plans had been speedily made as he cycled through the hot afternoon. He would go down to the colony where an uncle of his held a high position, and accept a constantly repeated and always open invitation.From there, if his father wired him a remittance, he would take the east coast steamer to Bombay, and visit his brother in India. Probably he could find a post there that would keep him in food and clothes while he considered future plans. Of one thing he felt resolute--nothing should bring him back to Rhodesia, that fair, lovely country where he had been so happy until Fate dealt the blow that laid him in the dust.If Bobbie married Blake, at least he would never set eyes on her as Blake's wife, nor hear her spoken


of by his name. He was persuaded in his mind that, after his unexpected appearance, they would get married at once, and, with a strange insistence, he was determined to shake the dust of Rhodesia from his feet before the event took place. Rhodesia for him had long meant Bobbie Glynn. When the country no longer held anyone of that name, he would have done with it. Both memories must be killed in his heart together. He would strive to blot out that year of his life that had been so carelessly happy, and go on as if it had never existed.He lay on his back, with his hands behind his head, and looked up at the stars-those same stars gazing with their cold, unseeing eyes upon the scene of the tragedy near Loka. He told himself he was but an atom, after all, and despair was foolish. Let him seize what gaiety and excitement he could out of life, and resolutely tear from his mind all that had passed. He had been weak in caring so much. Why let oneself care at all, in a universe where one is such an atom? He would be wiser in future--he would love lightly, and sip pleasure as a bee sips honey. He saw the first streak of light in the east, and watched it with a hard look on his usually sunny face that changed his whole appearance. Already he seemed years older, and as if some boyishness that had been his greatest charm had fallen from him. He might in future appear more striking, more interesting, as an extremely good-looking man of the world, but it was doubtful if the freshness and glory of his morning manhood could ever return.And Bobbie saw that first streak of light also, as Sir James helped her, with his tender solicitude, into the machila; and because a pitiless instinct told


her of her lover's unrelenting, bitter condemnation, her strength flowed from her utterly for the first timeBut consciousness returned all too quickly, and with a faint, pain-wrung smile, she told her protector she felt able to make another attempt to start. A very little later the cavalcade set out, the boys carrying the machila as steadily as they could, and Sir James pacing along beside it. When they reached the huts, he persuaded her to go to bed, saying he would keep watch outside until the doctor arrived from Geegi, probably accompanied by Betty and the brothers, whom Blake was to tell if he found them.Bobbie was glad to take his advice, and soon fell into a deep sleep, refreshed by the feeling that anyone as kind and thoughtful as Sir James was taking everything in hand to save her whatever exhausting arranging or explaining he could. When she awoke, he sent a tray to her with eggs that he had poached himself, and an appetising little milk-pudding, later coming to the door of her hut to inquire if she were eating it, and to persuade her to make a special effort."I have taken the liberty of setting up my camp close by," he told her, in his pleasant, sympathetic voice, "as I hope to be able to spare you a good deal of worrying work over the inquiry."Bobbie thanked him and lay back with a slightly perplexed expression. Of course, there would be an inquiry. She had forgotten that. And what was she to say about Blake?After a time Sir James came to her with some tea, remarking that the others might arrive at any moment, and he thought it would refresh her and stimulate her a little.Glancing away to the horizon, he then related


quietly how they had buried the brave Jim in a lovely spot high up on a kopje, about five hundred yards from the huts."It was a very impressive little ceremony," he told her, and she knew by his voice how keenly he had felt it. "The boys dug a grave, and we lined it with ferns and flowers, and then lowered the body, wrapped in the sort of bright-coloured blanket a boy loves. Then my carriers all gathered round, and I had a little talk with them about Jim's bravery, and how splendidly he had always served me, and how, because of it, he had gone to heaven. Then I said I should have a headstone put up, telling of his deed in their language, and that I should also have it inscribed in a watch, to be presented to his kraal. They hung on every word, and I am sure they all mentally resolved to try and follow his example. Then I said the Lord's Prayer, and after that we filled in the grave. I had a mound made, and now they are collecting blocks of granite from the kopje to fence it round.""I am glad you treated him like that," she murmured; "his brothers will appreciate it very much.""Some objection may be raised at the inquiry," Sir James told her, "but I think I can smooth it over all right. They are likely to think both bodies should have been left until the police arrived.""Is there bound to be an inquiry?" she asked a little anxiously."Something of the kind, but I think we can keep it quiet. For my part, I should like to keep it as quiet as possible. Is that your wish?" And he looked at her questioningly."Oh, yes, please. Need I come in at all?""I am afraid you are the only one who can prove


it was attempted murder, unless--unless-- How much do you think Blake knew?"The question was so direct that it startled her, and Sir James was quick to see its effect. He was not at all sure, in his own mind, concerning what part Blake had played, and was curious to know what she knew about it. Bobbie, however, was still troubled and undecided. Evidently there was no direct evidence against Blake. It rested with her to win for him the benefit of the doubt, or to damn him for ever. And, though for a woman, Bobbie was not very religious in the church-going sense, she was yet a Christian in a true spirit--the spirit of mercy and kindness and forgiveness--and she would never willingly damn any soul alive of her own act."I think," she said at last, with a little hesitation not lost upon Sir James, "that possibly a native may have warned him there was something wrong, and he rode over to make sure.""But a native did not warn you?" asked Sir James significantly."No, I overheard something that Van Tyl said.""To whom?""He came here and asked for a drink of water, and I was behind the palisade, and he did not know."She turned her head away wearily, and, with quick compassion, Sir James murmured: "I am a brute to worry you now! Get strong first, little woman. I will try and manage everything as quickly and quietly as possible."To himself, as he stood alone outside, looking along the track in the direction of Geegi, he said thoughtfully: "There is something about Blake's part in the affair that she does not want to give away."CHAPTER XXI.
THE INQUIRY.MEANWHILE, as Blake rode out across country in the moonlight, to inform the police and fetch the doctor,his mind was full of acute and anxious misgiving. His instinct was to take to flight at once; but if he did so, he inevitably condemned himself, whereas wise discretion might yet save him, failing any accuser. Evidently the boy Twilight was prepared to testify that he saw him try to stop Van Tyl firing, before he was knocked senseless, but that evidence might not go for much before Bobbie's knowledge. The question was, what did Bobbie know? He thought it out in every aspect as he rode along, and gradually came to a glimmering of the truth. He decided that she must have overheard something said at his house, and feigned a headache in order to get away and warn Sir James. He could not bring himself to believe that she had heard the whole conversation, yet not, in her horror, revealed the fact.He cursed himself that he had yielded to the temptation to persuade her to come to lunch, little dreaming that her motive in coming had been to overhear the conversation. But if she had indeed acted upon something said at his house, he mused, what chance had he to clear himself? It seemed he

 
might as well get away while he could. And then, again, he argued, the evidence of the boy who saw him try to stop Van Tyl was strongly in his favour, and might, at any rate, win him the benefit of the doubt. Possibly afterwards the neighbourhood might be an unpleasant place for him to live in, and the notoriety might bring other things to light, but that was less serious, on the whole, than damning himself by running away. Van Tyl's revengeful motive for the crime was so obvious that it would save much attention being directed to him, Blake, who had no such motive. The idea of removing the pegs on the claim would never leak out at all.Then he thought of how his part had mainly been undertaken to make himself secure with Bobbie, and how, instead, he must certainly have lost her friendship for ever. He gnashed his teeth at the trick he felt Fate had played him. Had good luck been his, he might easily have been the one to save Sir James's life, instead of the boy Jim, and so have made both him and Bobbie his debtors. And instead--He rode on with compressed lips and a grim expression, more shaken than he cared to own about the future.There were two British South Africa policemen at the police camp, and, in view of the seriousness of the affair, they decided that they would both go to the scene of the tragedy and wait there until the doctor arrived, for the necessary formula before burying the Dutchman. They lent Blake one of their mules to go on to Geegi, in exchange for his horse, which could easily return to Loka after a f and a rest. Thus, in a wonderfully short time, considering the distance, Dr. Jennings was on his


way to the Glynns' mine. Betty and her two brothers had already left on their homeward journey, and arrived some hours before him, all unconscious of the news that awaited them concerning what had transpired during their absence. Betty, full of anxious alarm, hastened to Bobbie, who was still feeling too exhausted to talk much, and continued very reticent. Only once she seemed to become alert, and that was when Betty exclaimed:"Where was Toby all the time? He never came to Geegi, after all.""Didn't he follow you there?" Bobbie asked."No, he did not come at all. But where is he? If he were at the store, he must have heard by now, and, of course, he would come at once to see you."Bobbie turned her head away again with an air of weariness, and Betty did not press the subject.But, later on, after the doctor had paid his visit and gone on to Loka, she came to Bobbie again with an anxious, worried expression, and said: "Toby seems to have suddenly taken leave of his senses. Ken went to look for him at the store, in case he was laid up with fever, and his boy says he has gone away altogether."She paused wonderingly, but, as Bobbie made no comment, ran on: "Sixpence told Kenneth he went to Mr. Blake's, and then came back and packed up a few things in a bag, and went off on his bicycle. He told him to go on trading with the things left in the store, and he would send him a message by a white man soon. Isn't it extraordinary? What in the world has made him go off like that, without saying good-bye to anyone?"She waited, and Bobbie tried to say quite naturally,


"I suppose he had a message by runner, and had not time to say good-bye. Perhaps a cable came from England, and was sent on from Geegi. If he had to catch Friday's train, he would have to hurry tremendously.""I think, if he were going to England, he would have managed to say good-bye to you," Betty said significantly. "Probably you will get a note in a day or two."When she was alone Bobbie turned her face to the wall in great bitterness. So he had indeed gone! When would he come back to let her explain? Would he ever come back?For a moment she almost wished the shot had killed her. If he never came back he would never hear the true explanation of her conduct, but would go on thinking all his life that she was faithless. If she wrote to him, where could she send the letter? How could she be sure he would believe it? She felt that one interview would have sufficed to clear up everything; but how could she ever attain even that, if he had indeed flung away in such bitter anger that he would never come back any more? She felt almost glad of the pain in her wrist and shoulder, because it prevented her dwelling long upon anything, and also provided an excuse for her to remain in her hut, instead of having cheerfully to face the others and answer more questions.The next day the doctor and the two policemen came to the huts, and she had to screw up her courage for the most trying ordeal of all. Van Tyl had been buried where he lay as speedily as possible, and a long deposition of all that had happened had been taken on the spot from Sir James. Only Bobbie's


evidence and her native servant's and Blake's were wanting. Bobbie tried to excuse herself; but Sir James told her she need only say that she overheard the Dutchman speak of killing him, and, if she could find the strength for that, it was possible he could spare her appearing any more. In the end she proved herself a very clever witness, for she satisfied both policemen that what she had overheard in the morning was the clue she had acted upon, making the time tally with her late start, instead of admitting that it had been at an early hour. Afterwards Sir James had a quiet talk with the police, and urged upon them that there was nothing to gain by publicity, as it was obviously a case of private revenge against himself. That Shagann's natives were inculpated he did not doubt in his private mind; but there was no direct evidence, and he intended to deal with them himself. To this end, he had kept the axe that Jim used, and meant to find its owner later on. If the police had their suspicions that the affair was being hushed up, they let them rest. Sir James was known and respected throughout the country, and many times he had proved himself a good friend to the police force. It was more his affair than anyone else's, and, if he wished it hushed up, they might very well humour him. The fact of Van Tyl being an ex-convict, with a record that proclaimed him a desperate character, made it easier; and the general opinion of all was that, since Sir James was safe, the country was well rid of him.The police said they would go on to Blake's place for the night, and see if he had any further information to add before they drew up their report.Dr. Jennings remained at the Glynns' camp, to


dress Bobbie's wound and see her well on her way to recovery before he departed to his home, forty miles away.It was with an anxious heart that Blake watched from his verandah the approach of the two policemen, whose report of Bobbie's evidence must mean so much to him. His thin, bronzed face had a grey look as he made them welcome with as nonchalant a manner as he could command, and asked them how matters had progressed. Their first words and their manner were sufficient to tell him he was safe for the present; and instantly he felt his courage revive, for he knew he could still hope to "bluff" his way to acquittal."I don't suppose you want much evidence from me," he said, with a light air. "My chief part seems to be to suffer an endless regret that the murderer knocked me unconscious, so that I could not render the help that Sir James's native servant did.""I suppose you knew it was intended murder?" the senior asked."I guessed it. As soon as I realised Van Tyl was in the neighbourhood as well as Sir James, I knew he meant mischief. He came here with a long rigmarole about his claim on Loka kopje which he had inherited from a brother, but I did not believe much of his story. I knew too well what he was. I had heard him swear--not once, but fifty times-- to 'do for' Sir James; and, seeing that Sir James was trekking with only black boys, and in such a lonely neighbourhood, I put two and two together, and drew my own conclusions.""I believe you saw him on the day of the attempt""Yes, I saw him in the morning, and, by the way he spoke of Sir James, I expected he was bent on following him that very night. He knew all about Shagann's natives having such a bad name, and I am confident he meant to shelter himself behind it, and make the deed appear to be theirs. I should have reached Sir James sooner, only I went to Loka first, and lost a lot of time finding him.""And when you came to the camp, you found this man Van Tyl already there.""I saw Miss Glynn in the firelight before Sir James's tent, looking as if she were so done up she could hardly stand. Then Van Tyl cursed furiously, and raised his gun to fire either at her or at Sir James when he came out from the tent. I sprang at him and tried to reach his uplifted arms, but he stood above me on the bank, and I only caught him below the shoulders. He fired instantly, and, before I could recover my footing, he knocked me senseless down the bank."They had a little more talk, and then the senior policeman said: "Sir James seems anxious not to have any more publicity than can be helped. He feels it is a personal affair, and no good will be gained by a lot of discussion in public.""Quite right, too. I thoroughly agree with him. Nothing is to be gained by outsiders hearing of attempted murders in lonely districts. It gives a country a bad name. Why shouldn't we keep it to ourselves down here, if he is willing? I am sure Miss Glynn is not one to like notoriety.""I understand she particularly wishes to be left out altogether, if possible. But, for my part, I think she ought to have a special medal for the


splendid way in which she managed to get to Sir James. Not many women would have faced that journey on foot through the kopjes in the heat of the afternoon.""Indeed, no." He paused, then asked: "Has she given her evidence? Was she--was she well enough to do so?""She only said that she overheard some remarks of Van Tyl's when he went to their place for a drink of water, and was frightened lest he meant harm to Sir James that very night, when he was camped near Shagann's kraal.""Did she tell you what she overheard?" In spite of himself, Blake could not refrain from asking questions. He felt instinctively that his fate must rest on Bobbie's evidence."No, I don't think she did;" and the policeman puckered his forehead somewhat. "She looks pretty ill, and Doctor Jennings told me to get the interview over as quickly as possible, so we did not press her. I dare say she will tell more later."Blake turned the conversation then to the Dutchman, telling them what he knew of him in the Transvaal, and keeping their attention fixed upon him instead of upon the event which had brought them there. He gave them a good dinner, and finally sent them both to bed slightly hilarious and well pleased with their host.But, when he was alone, a restless sense of uncertainty possessed him. There was something about the inquiry that he did not understand. As Bobbie had baffled him when she came to see him, so she baffled him now in her actions and her account of them. There was a mystery about her part all


through that he could not grasp. It perplexed and worried him deeply, for, until he knew her real attitude, he could not feel safe. Was it possible she knew all and chose to shield him? It so, why? Or did she in truth know nothing concerning his share, and only believe the same as the others?"I must try to see her," he decided. "And I must find out what has become of Toby Fitzgerald, for if he chose to reveal that she was at my house for lunch, things would look black for me, and her story would be discredited."CHAPTER XXII.
THE INTERVIEW.A WEEK passed before Blake made up his mind to face the ordeal of an interview with Bobbie. He heard then that Sir James had gone to Loka to his gold claim, and would be away for a week; and he knew that, if he went in the afternoon, the two brothers would be working at the mine, and the two sisters alone. It would therefore be probable that he and Bobbie might be left together for a little; and, while fearing her instinctively, he yet longed to hasten the interview and get it over.So he rode up to the huts about half-past three, trying to look as if nothing unusual had happened. Bobbie was lying on a lounge chair in the shade, with her arm in a sling, and he was almost startled to see how ill she looked. Betty was sewing beside her. As he approached he saw an instant distrust come into her face; but Bobbie only gave him one fleeting glance of acknowledgment, and then dropped her gaze so that he could not see the expression in her eyes."I hope you are better," he said, standing beside her. "I should have come sooner, but your brother told me you were hardly equal to seeing anyone yet, and I did not want to be a nuisance."She murmured a few words of thanks without looking up, and Betty relieved the situation by asking him if he had heard any news of Toby.He coloured slightly as he answered: "Only that he seems to have gone in a hurry, and does not intend to return at present. He was always bad at writing notes, if he could help it. I expect he will turn up again as suddenly, and surprise us all.""I suppose nothing could have happened to him?" said Betty anxiously."Oh, no I Toby is too great a favourite everywhere.""I was thinking of a lion or leopard," Betty said, a little coldly."We should be sure to hear of that. He evidently went to the railway, and a good many boys pass that way. But, in any case, it is a very open path, and perfectly safe. Lions and leopards rarely attack white men, unless they are wounded."Still Bobbie remained with lowered eyes and said nothing, and Blake felt himself regarding her with growing uneasiness."Ken has been to the store once or twice," Betty continued. "We shall try to keep it going for him while there is anything to sell. Sixpence is a good boy, and will take care of everything." There was a pause, and then she added: "It seems so odd he should have gone that day of all days. We quite expected him to follow us to Geegi to see Mr. Shute."They had tea, and still Bobbie continued strangely silent and aloof. Blake tried to chat to Betty, but he saw little except the grave, white face of the invalid, so resolutely turned away from him.After tea Betty remarked that she had to go to the garden for one or two things, and prepared to leave Blake alone with Bobbie. For one moment he thought he would go with Betty, then he decided that he must know the worst, if possible, and would stay.As Betty moved away, there was a pulsing silence, and then Bobbie raised her eyes and looked straight into his face. Instantly he realised that she knew everything. He got up and moved away for a few minutes to recover himself, and then he came back. While he was gone, she had risen from her reclining posture, and now sat upright, with one hand gripping a chair near."I suppose," he said huskily, "you--overheard --something--at my house?""I overheard everything." She spoke in a low voice, but all she said was perfectly clear and distinct.Suddenly he burst out: "Did you hear that my share was for love of you? I told you then I loved you better than I have ever loved anyone before. I tell you again now. Sir James had it in his power to come between us. It made me desperate. I--I thought you were going to care for him.""So you consented to be an accomplice to a dastardly murder!" Her low voice lashed him."I was caught like a rat in a hole. If I had thwarted Van Tyl, he would have turned on me.""Yet you tried-in the end.""Good God, do you think I would let the low cur hurt you? I recognised you instantly even in that dim firelight. I meant to kill him!"--and his voice had a savage note.There was a silence, and at last he asked sullenly:"Well, what are you going to do? Damn me off-hand, I suppose?" She still said nothing, and, as if struggling violently to steady himself, he ran on: "What did you come to my kia for at all? Were you just playing with me?""I came to hear what Van Tyl had to say to you." He stared at her in astonishment. "Then you knew--before?""I knew before you asked me to come. It was here"--with slow emphasis--"that I overheard the sentence which gave me the clue."He seemed staggered by all that the revelation implied. "Then--then you only accepted my invitation in order to try--" Words failed him."Certainly, that was all," she answered coldly. "I had to use desperate means to foil a desperate deed.""Ah!" Once more he got up and walked away a few paces. Then he came back. "Then you don't really care a tinker's curse for me--you didn't when you came?"--a little roughly."No, I never cared for you.""Then"--a little wildly--"why shield me the other day? At the full inquiry I suppose you will give me away."Once more she looked full into his eyes, and he was struck by a certain simple dignity in her whole face. "Why should I give you away? I am not your judge.""You mean?"--with a puzzled expression."I mean that, as far as I am concerned, you will get a chance to wipe out this black stain, and no one will know of it.""Without caring for me, and knowing everything,


you positively mean to shield me?" he asked incredulously."I do not see that it would benefit anyone if I did otherwise. Sir James is not likely to be in danger from you again. Already you have apparently lived down some ill deeds of the past. Why should I be the one to rake them up again in condemning you?"She was silent a moment, then added: "I would like to ask one thing."She hesitated, looking painfully at a loss, and he moved a little nearer, saying in a gentle voice, wholly unlike any he had ever used before in all his life:"Yes, what is it? Ask me; I promise faithfully to do what you wish.""If you ever have the chance"--still speaking with hesitation--"will you tell Toby Fitzgerald why I was at your house that day?"He looked at her strangely, and his face went grey."Do you--do you care so much, then, what Toby thinks?""I owe him an explanation," she answered, with quiet dignity, "and I think it would be better, under the circumstances, that it should come from you.""I will remember and keep my promise." The huskiness had come again into his throat. He knew she was asking him to dig the grave of the dearest hope his life had ever held."And I should prefer you to go away for a time, if you can," she went on. "I--I hardly feel able to receive you here as if nothing had happened. I think you will understand that.""I will do whatever you wish." There was a


break in his voice, in spite of his efforts to steady it, as it came home to him more and more what her generous nature was giving him by her self-imposed silence. What had been a fierce passion for her before was merging into a reverence such as he had never believed himself capable of feeling for God or man. She did not care for him; she never would care. All his plans had failed utterly, yet even in his bitterness of defeat and self-condemnation, even in his inner depth of shame, he knew that the best of him which existed would worship her as long as he lived. In giving him his acquittal, she had given him also a new and unexpected belief in goodness, a new and unexpected loathing of evil. Yet his manner seemed a little ungracious as he stammered out: "Of course, it means a new life to me. If you had chosen to speak, I was powerless. How am I to thank you?""You can thank me best by wiping out the stain in your future, and--and in helping others who are weak.""I will try."She leaned back in her chair, looking very exhausted, and he knew he must go. His eyes wandered round the little camp, and a sudden swift passion of regret filled them.""God knows, I'm a blackguard!" he muttered, "but if--if there had been someone like you sooner--" He broke off, and his face hardened."I always think idle regret is for fools and imbeciles. What can't be helped must be stamped on. I'm not going to whine about the past at this late hour; but just because of you, and through you, and for you, I'm going to trek a damned sight straighter


in the future! Good-bye! I'll tell Toby, if; l ever see him, and he does not already know."Then he turned sharply on his heel and vanished.When Betty came back, she was surprised to find Bobbie alone, and noticed that her eyelashes were glistening with tears hastily wiped away."I ought not to have left you," she said; you were too tired to talk to him alone.""Oh, no, I didn't mind! He is going away too. We shall have no neighbours left "--and smiled faintly."We shall not miss Mr. Blake." And Betty made no attempt to hide her dislike. "Where is he going?""He did not say. He spoke of being tired of the monotony here, and said he felt he must wander a little."Betty glanced at her sister keenly. She had long suspected that Blake cared for her, and, putting two and two together, decided that Bobbie had just refused to marry him. She wondered if anything of the same kind were the reason for Toby's sudden departure, but decided it could hardly be so when they were almost engaged already. She wished with all her heart that Toby had not gone. For reasons she had not yet divulged to Bobbie, they needed his cheering presence more than ever before to help them to forget their anxieties occasionally. But, if she had said nothing, Bobbie had not been slow to observe the worried expression upon her brothers' faces, and upon Betty's when she thought no one was looking; and because she felt a certain relief now the interview with Blake was over, and she had been able to ask him the thing
 picture included in body of Page's "The Pathway"
that was in her mind concerning Toby, she felt better able to give her attention/to the trouble, and taxed her sister to find out what was wrong. At first Betty tried to parry her questioning, but Bobbie only said: " You may as well tell me. I am not ill now, and I know something is worrying you all.""It is only the mine," Betty faltered. "It does not pay to work it now.""It has not done before, and then a fresh vein cropped up. I do not think that is all."There was a short silence, and then Bobbie asked:"Have you heard anything from Uncle Frank?"Betty coloured, and the younger girl urged her point In the end, Betty confessed that there had been a letter, and their uncle wrote to say that he had lost so much money in an unlucky speculation that he feared he could not let them have the promised loan at present."What happened about the stores?" Bobbie asked, knitting her forehead, for they had relied upon this loan."The boys had to give a bill on their machinery."Bobbie turned, if possible, whiter. If no vein of gold cropped up, it spelt ruin. The very machinery would not be theirs to start on another mine, even if they could afford to move it.She leaned back and gazed long and steadily at the sky. Beyond doubt they would have to separate at last. How hard it seemed! All the fine spirit with which they had laughed at the wilderness difficulties wasted; the little home to be left desolate; their meagre capital lost on an enterprise that gave them nothing in the end but a sense of tired hopelessness. She thought


how hard the boys had worked week after week,upheld always by the hope that success would come on the morrow; how she and Betty had tried to hearten and encourage them, even when they both felt they were struggling with a forlorn hope. Even the disputed claim meant little now, for, if they won it, they could not move their machinery without a loan, and they were already considerably in debt.If it proved good, they might sell it; but some time must elapse first, and meanwhile, what of Betty and herself? Of course, they would have to seek any posts they were fitted for, and live among strangers, without a home of their own, until some day when fortune should perhaps smile at last. Then she discovered suddenly that Betty was crying, and, as ever, gave all her attention to rallying her."It will all come right," she declared reassuringly. "We have been down in the depths before. Obstacles are things to thrive on." And she smiled with an attempt at brightness.But at night she watched the stars with vague and sad misgivings. Before they had dropped the subject, Betty had spoken a sentence that seemed burnt into her brain."Sir James could do a great deal for us," she had said timidly, "if you would ask him."Yes, it was true indeed--perhaps Bobbie knew better than any of them how true. It had been impossible to be blind to his feelings for her since the dreadful night at the camp. He had not tried to hide them. He had not wished her to be blind. True, he had not spoken of them yet, but she felt that was due to consideration for her invalid state.


When the time came, what was she to say? If she refused his love, would he ever feel the same interest again in her brothers' welfare? Could they possibly expect anything from him at all? And, if so, how could she fail them now, after the fine fight they had made together."Oh, Toby," she breathed pitifully to the night: "could I possibly fail them now?"CHAPTER XXIII.
SIR JAMES SPEAKS.BOBBIE was right in concluding that her illness kept Sir James silent upon the matter uppermost in his heart. Every day he longed to tell her of the love that seemed to pervade his whole being, and every day her white, wan face held him silent. He felt vaguely that something was troubling her, and longed to have the right to sympathise and comfort, but feared she was as yet feeling too unstrung for him to speak to her upon so great a subject. In going to Loka, ostensibly to see his claim, he was in reality planning chiefly to get away from the Glynns' huts for a week. He thought that if Bobbie did not see him every day as a matter of course, she might perhaps miss him, and so discover her own heart. He felt sure that she realised the depths of his feelings for her, although as yet he had refrained from speaking, and he thought to give her time to think things over a little before he declared himself. Whether Bobbie understood this or not, she was vaguely relieved when he came to tell her he was going, and to say good-bye.Her heart was full of soreness and longing for Toby, and she found it difficult to talk and laugh naturally. Every day she had hoped against hope


that some message might come to them, telling them where he was, and when he might be returning, but every day only brought disappointment.When Sir James came to say good-bye to her,he found her looking harassed and tired, and his heart smote him for all she had gone through on his behalf. He spoke to her cheerfully and hopefully, and she tried to be her usual bright self in spite of her weariness."You mustn't run your head into any more tragedies," she told him, smiling, "for I'm sure I should never be in time again.""Indeed, for your sake, I hope not, as well as for my own. I could ill bear to have you once more an invalid on my account."Suddenly she grew more serious. "I think you understood that, from what I overheard, there is no doubt Shagann's natives were implicated?""Yes, I understood that. I have kept the axe poor Jim used, on
purpose. I shall go to the kraal with all my carriers, and try to
discover the culprits." He hesitated a little, and then added: "You could not tell me a little more? It need not go any further unless you wish it."Bobbie flushed crimson. It was the first time he had actually implied that he thought she was keeping something back, and she was a little at a loss."I only heard something about Shagann's natives and axes, and I put two and two together. Naturally, Van Tyl would see it was the safest way to throw the blame on them.""I suppose one or more was hovering near my tent when you arrived, and Jim sprang upon him


in the dark, and the boy got away afterwards. Well, I shall try and unravel the Shagann mystery for myself. You must get well while I am gone"--turning to her with a glance of the utmost solicitude. "I expect my boys will arrive this afternoon with the port wine I sent for, and a few things that may tempt your appetite."Bobbie thanked him gratefully, and said she hoped to be as well as ever in a week, and quite equal to "bully beef" and potatoes for a staple diet.But, after he had gone, she grew very thoughtful, and felt her mind
full of misgivings for the future. The cloud upon her brothers' faces,
which they tried to hide on her behalf, hurt her badly, and she knew
that Betty's eyes told a tale of tears in the night. All through the
week she pondered upon ways and means to keep the home together, only
to grow more despondent with each day. And ever and always was the
consciousness of how she missed Toby's cheery presence and his
unwearying good spirits and hopefulness. Doubtless he lacked many
things that some women sought for in a lover and husband, but to her
they were amply balanced by those good qualities he emphatically
had. She loved his honest, fearless, boyish nature, and if he were
perhaps unreliable in some things, at least he was devoted in his
love, and of a nature to remain so. That his conduct now was caused by
any change in his feelings she never believed for one moment. Through
a disastrous Fate she had shattered his faith in her, and, just because he could not unlove all in a moment, he had flung away. And now had come this trouble that threatened to break up their home. He could not have helped


them, with his five pounds profit a month and occasional sirloins of beef, but at least he would have made it easier for her to view the future hopefully and help the others with her cheerfulness.And, instead, Betty's tell-tale eyes and the brothers' depressed looks went to her heart and seemed to rob her of her ancient hope. And ever and anon each day came the memory of Betty's sentence: "Sir James could do so much, if you would ask him."It was not even a case of asking, she felt. It was merely to let him do it--to let him love her, and accept his love, and so establish a right for him to help and for them to accept. But, if she did this, she must resolutely turn a deaf ear to her heart, and tear Toby's image--indeed, the very thought of him--from her mind. Was it possible life asked such a sacrifice as that? Was it possible she could give it?At the end of the week Sir James came back, and Bobbie's clear eyes
saw at once that a climax was drawing near. She saw that the others
began to suspect it also, and it seemed to her that their eyes asked
wordless questions. That Sir James would gladly help because of his
debt to her alone did not hold much weight with her. Could they let
him take their welfare into his keeping if she had refused to become
his wife? Would not the position be untenable and unpleasant for all?
If only they could win through unaided! If only once more an
unexpected outcrop would rescue them, pay all their debts and give
them a fresh start! Day by day she looked with a new longing at the thatched huts, and thought of all the happiness they had had there, in spite of the debts and worries.


Perhaps these things were less wearing in Rhodesia than in some countries, or perhaps the household worries left one less time to brood, and created a
diversion in themselves, followed by hours of blessed relief when they were satisfactorily grappled with. She thought of the times she and Betty had wrestled with a raw nigger, to turn him into a presentable house-boy; of the awful things these raw boys sometimes did, directly their backs were turned, all in good faith--things that sometimes only cost them a laugh, and at others were irremediable.She thought of all their efforts to rear chickens, in spite of hawks and crows and rats; and of the struggles they had had at first over their butter-making, putting their heads together and reading it up in books, and never discovering for some time that the temperature was the trouble, and they could make it quite easily if they commenced about five o'clock instead of nine.And was it all to cease now? Were their huts to stand empty and deserted in the wilderness, while the veldt crept in over their garden and took back its own? She told herself there had been days when the tiresome things had almost beaten them--when the insects and the dust or the rain and the commissariat worries had very nearly drained their powers of endurance--only to remember, with infinite longing, how Toby had usually turned up, full of laughter and nonsense, with some absurd story about his store, and the troubles had been forgotten in the sunshine and careless inconsequence.If she let herself make this sacrifice, and marry Sir James Fortescue, for the sake of her brothers and


Betty, how was she ever to support life amid the tiresome conventionalities of town, as the wife of the most prominent citizen? Bobbie had ever been a lover of the country. At home, in the little village where her father had been vicar, she had spent whole days wandering out over fields and moors, with perhaps an apple or two in her pocket, or possibly a sandwich. The artificiality of town life was abhorrent to her, the thought of dressing up and paying calls vexed her very soul. However much Sir James loved her, would he not soon find her a burden and an obstacle, since she was sure she could never grace the position that must be held by his wife?To Bobbie it sounded altogether too civilised and luxurious. She had gone out to a colony gaily telling herself she would wrestle with all the difficulties gladly for the sake of the Empire. What then should she be doing in a luxurious house in a town, with servants to wait on her, and pretty frocks to wear, and plenty of nice things to eat? She tried to make herself think only of the great advantages that would accrue to her brothers and Betty; but though she longed to make the sacrifice gladly, in spite of her efforts her heart grew heavy within her.Then Sir James came back.The moment he approached she saw in his eyes that he meant to wait no longer, and her own fell before the ardent love of his. At the first opportunity he spoke to her. It was in the cool, shady part of the afternoon, and, having poured out tea,Betty went away, as usual, to do a little gardening.Then Sir James drew his chair close to hers, and,

 
even in her distress of mind, she noted how good a man he was in all respects to look upon.A minute later he was pouring his tale in her ears in low, earnest tones. In a low voice she answered him:"I'm afraid I'm not very well suited to be the wife of a politician. I hate town life and conventionalities. I should be afraid I was only an obstacle in your path."She did not say straight out that she did not love him. It was a question he had not yet asked her."As if I should let that stay me!" And he smiled into her eyes. "The conventionalities, as you call them, shall never worry you if I can help it, and my political career can go on the same as before. In my garden you could forget you were in a town, it is so shady and quiet and secluded."Then his voice changed a little, and he spoke wistfully. "I know I must seem quite old to you. It is no use denying I was fifty last birthday. Probably I am twice your age, but it does not make a man love any less--rather more, I think. Because I am fifty, I know better how well worth loving you are. Because I have already experienced and learnt so much, I ask nothing better of life than to devote myself to you. If only you could love me a little in return! Or do I seem too old altogether?""No--oh, no, it is not that!" she said, speaking with hesitation and a little discomfort. "You do not seem old at all. You never have done. But"--and her voice dropped--"I'm afraid I don't love you as I ought if I were going to marry you."He took her hand in his and held it fast. "I


will take the risk of that, because I believe I can win your love. There is so much I can do to win it. There is nothing I would not do to win it. I will move heaven and earth, and surely I can prevail!"She was silent, looking away from him with troubled eyes."It will be a great joy to me to help your brothers and sister in any way I can, and it will not be difficult. Good men are scarce. I can find them posts where they may win the success they deserve.""We should be very grateful to you for that. I think I am influenced by the hope of it. It would not be fair not to tell you.""My dear, God knows I will do anything for them that I can! It would be too much to expect you to love me solely for myself--me with my fifty years and grey hairs, you with your splendid youth. But I am confident I can win your love and respect, and that is why I am not afraid to urge you to come to me.""You are very good," she said softly, and leaned back in her chair with a tired air.He bent forward and kissed the hand he had taken in his. "Only let me show you!" he breathed. "Only come to me and let me show you!""For several minutes Bobbie gazed hard at the horizon, and still, for all her efforts, she could not crush Toby out of her mind. If only she knew where he was, and what he meant to do! If only some message had told her it was useless to expect him back!"Supposing he came, and found her plighted to


Sir James? If he had one grain of faith left, it would be lost for ever. Could she bear that? Even for the boys and Betty, could she bear that?Bent by a sudden yearning she could not stifle, she breathed: "Will you let me think it over? Will you give me a week? It means so much. I had not thought of marriage for years to come, and I love my freedom."His face expressed disappointment, but he said as cheerfully as he could: "Of course I will. I have sent a runner to excuse myself from the only important meeting due this month, so I need not leave just yet. Also, there is the full inquiry coming on. I have asked Mr. Shute to try to get it over quickly, so that I can return to my work. Don't look sad, little girl. You shall not lose your freedom through me. I love no caged birds. I will not worry you: again at present, but a week today I will come for my answer." He bent down and kissed her hair. Then, as Betty was seen returning, he said he would go to the mine and look for Ken and Bay. "I shall tell them at once I mean to get them the offer of good posts," he told her brightly. "They are looking depressed, and they deserve better fortune."Bobbie's eyes sought and found the first star of the evening, and their sadness came back."What am I to do, Toby?" she whispered. "Oh, couldn't you come back and tell me what to do?"CHAPTER XXIV.
BLAKE'S PLANS.AFTER his visit to the Glynns' huts, Blake went back to his farm in a curiously mixed frame of mind.Some upheaval seemed to have taken place inside him and changed certain aspects so much he hardly recognised himself. Now that he knew that he was safe, as far as Bobbie was concerned, he was astonished at the intense relief he felt. He had told himself that, in any case, he would "bluff" it out, or get clear away; but, however sanguine he had made himself feel, the fact remained that he was tremendously relieved when he knew Bobbie's attitude. And not only that, but much else that had transpired at the interview gave him food for thought. Because she had accepted his invitation to lunch, he had let himself look upon her in a wholly false light. He had believed she was playing with Toby, and all the time meant to marry him, because he was so much more eligible.And now he found she had not been playing at all, but, as she herself put it, using desperate means to thwart a desperate end. He marvelled at the skill with which she had carried out her plan, and, in the face of such difficulties, succeeded in thwarting Van Tyl. He thought of the last interview with


the Dutchman in his house, and of all that had been said between them, and it seemed to him a dreadful thing that she should have overheard such a conversation. The wonder was that she did not now turn from him in unutterable loathing. Perhaps, in her heart, she did. The thought made him clench his teeth together, while his thin, sallow face went a shade paler. Of course, he could not blame her--no one could--neither was it likely he could ever win her to anything but the barest toleration. And to be barely tolerated by the woman he loved seemed to Harry Blake a condition of affairs which he, for one, would never endure. No, of course he must go away as soon as the inquiry was over, and travel for a time. Something had shaken his little world to its foundations. He must try and win back some peaceful equipoise before he could again settle down as before. As he rode slowly across his farm, his eyes dwelt upon the rich acres, ploughed for the mealie planting, and there was a tightness at his heart. It was his own, and he had grown to love it. He thought of the recent dream he had indulged in, and of its utter rout. This land of his, which was so fertile, would be very valuable some day, and he had dreamed that Bobbie would share his good fortune.And now Bobbie would never again feel anything for him but the barest toleration, and the events of the last week made it advisable for him to go away for some time. Well, it was no use moaning and groaning, and he tried to shrug his shoulders callously. Anyhow, the land would go on getting more valuable, and, if he did not forget her, at least he would contrive to be happy without her. Then


his thoughts ran on to Toby, and he wondered somewhat at Bobbie's attitude. Was it possible she cared for the boy? Although Toby was twenty-five, Blake always thought of him as a boy, and allowed him little credit for manly depth. He recalled her horrified face when Toby had appeared in his doorway, and how she had seemed distrait and restless after he had flung away. Evidently Toby had cared pretty desperately for her, and the seeming revelation of her double-dealing had driven him wildly away."Silly young fool!" was Blake's comment. And then, in softer mood: "But if I run across him anywhere, I'll tell him enough to prove she had not deceived him in the way he thought. I wonder where he is? Heaven send he does not return before the inquiry, or he may hopelessly complicate matters!"For the next few days it was the inquiry that almost entirely filled Blake's mind, and, until it was safely passed, he knew he could never feel secure. Exactly what Bobbie had overheard, and where, was left so vague that, in view of the obviousness of the murder attempt, he was doubtful if Mr. Shute would let it pass without further unravelling. But in this he underrated Sir James's influence, for as soon as the latter was notified by the police that Mr. Shute would be at Geegi on a certain date, and the case would then be brought before him, Sir James started off to interview the magistrate privately. They had been friends socially for a long time, and, after talking over the whole affair, the magistrate was willing to pass the only verdict necessary--that of attempted murder, foiled by the


prompt action of Miss Glynn and the timely help of Mr. Blake, who caused the first shot to swerve, and the devoted service of the Angoni native Jim, who lost his life defending his master.As Bobbie was in no condition to travel forty miles in the great heat of November, her written deposition was accepted, and the case was brought to an end. Very little of it reached the papers, and, in spite of his importance, Sir James contrived afterwards to laugh the matter aside so satisfactorily that it never received serious attention. Hence no rumour reached Toby, in his self-imposed exile, that might have opened his eyes and brought him back. The discovery that Van Tyl owned the claim next to his on Loka kopje explained a good deal more to Sir James, and in his heart he suspected that Van Tyl had nursed some idea of moving the pegs. This was confirmed by something his carriers learnt at Shagann's kraal, but, as he only wanted the case quickly ended, he said nothing about it. His personal visit to the kraal itself only showed him that, if any of its inhabitants had been inculpated, it had been arranged secretly, and probably he would never trace the real offenders, however much he tried. So he contented himself with giving the old chief Shagann a severe talking to, and reducing him to a condition of abject humility before the sturdy Angoni carriers who formed Sir James's bodyguard. The only thing that still puzzled him was Blake's part, and, much as he would have liked to unravel the mystery, he felt a delicacy about probing too far because of Bobbie's attitude. He felt that he must respect her unspoken wish, but he was not in the least surprised when, after the

 Picture included in body of Page's "The Pathway"
inquiry at Geegi, Blake informed him that he had been called away to the south, and was leaving immediately. He noticed that, in spite of his effort to speak naturally, Blake seemed both self-conscious and ill at ease, and he could not resist putting one or two questions to him."I'm sorry you have to go away. This is a busy time for farmers, is it not? How will you get your mealies planted?""I have a good head boy," Blake answered brusquely, not caring to meet Sir James's eyes."He will see to them.""You are fortunate," said Sir James drily. "From the complaints that reach me of the stupidity and cupidity of the natives from my farmer constituents, anyone would think there were no good boys existent.""He is an Angoni, and he has six northern boys under him. I certainly should not care to leave anything solely to Mashonas.""I understand Van Tyl had inherited the other claim on Loka kopje from his brother," Sir James went on. "Did you know that?""Yes. He told me it was the reason for his coming up here." Blake had suddenly discovered that his gaiter had come unfastened, and stooped low to fix it again, so that Sir James could not see his face. In spite of his will, he knew a tell-tale flush had shown on his usual pallor."Did he meet you amicably? Down in the Transvaal, if I remember rightly, his threatenings were breathed against you also.""They were; but he seemed to have thought better of it. Probably he conceived I might be


useful to him. All the same, had he carried out his designs against you, I do not doubt my turn would have come next.""His claim was not much good," said Sir James, watching his companion narrowly, "unless he could have succeeded in moving the pegs and getting some of mine. I had the top of the hill."Blake winced very slightly, but he had himself well in hand now, and succeeded in answering coolly: "I dare say that was his intention. He was not the man to stick at a little matter like stealing a claim.""But you would have known?" asked Sir James pointedly."No, I don't think anyone would have known. It's a nasty hill to
climb, and no one has given it much attention. Do you think there is
gold there worth digging?" replied Blake, changing his voice."I am sure there is. I shall commence operations very shortly. I am sorry you are going away, as one is always so glad of a farm near a mine. I-I suppose you wouldn't sell it?"Blake gave a low, harsh laugh. What was Sir James driving at now? Was he giving him a chance to quit the neighbourhood, or did he merely want to be rid of him?"I might, at a fancy price.""Well, let me know if you will. It is not very healthy at Loka, and I should not mind my manager having his home here, provided, of course, the mine pays to work. He could have a motor-bicycle, and do the distance in about fifteen minutes.""I'm fond of the farm," Blake said, a trifle shortly."I'm sure you are," replied Sir James, in a bland voice; "but, still, a price is a price, and one often


changes one's mind. I must be getting back now, as Miss Glynn will be anxious to hear how things have passed off. Of course, you will be coming in to say good-bye before you depart. She is nearly well now."Once more Fortescue saw Blake's thin face twitch and a hunted look come into his eyes, and the idea in his mind gained ground rapidly. He began to think that Blake had indeed been near Shagann's kraal the night of the tragedy as an accomplice, and that Bobbie knew it. Why she should shield him, if so, he scarcely asked. His belief in her judgment was such that he was quite content if it were her wish. All the same, he considered that the neighbourhood of his new mine would be well rid of the pioneer farmer, and decided to acquire the farm if Blake would listen to reasonable terms.He told Bobbie later on of the offer he had made, and he saw that in some way it pleased her, though she said very little. As a matter of fact, it rejoiced her, for she knew that if he came back to his store, Toby would be glad, and it seemed to her better altogether that Blake should leave the neighbourhood."If I get it, I think I must give it to you for a wedding present," Sir James told her lightly. "A little token of gratitude, eh? You might put our friend Toby Fitzgerald there to manage it for you. He told me he was hankering for a farm," he ran on, not noticing the pallor of her face. "As a matter of fact, all the men out here are. Gold mines sound all right in England, but, once get here, and it's a farm, or a plot of land which is the nearest approach to it. I'm sure Fitzgerald would make a most


original manager, and he could run his store as well. You must say ' Yes ' to me to-morrow, little girl"--gently teasing her-"then I shall make a special effort to bring Blake to terms."His reference to the morrow meant that the week for which Bobbie had stipulated was not yet over, though it seemed to her that every day brought a fresh coil to enslave her will--so much had been arranged since he asked her to marry him, and she had pleaded that week's delay.Bay and Ken were to take over the management of the new mine at
once, and if, when the time came, they won their disputed claim, Sir James had offered to finance the working of it for them; and while one of them worked their own property, the other could still manage the Loka mine. This would enable them to stay in their pretty hut-home for the present, and would give Bobbie many opportunities to visit the neighbourhood she had grown to love. Sir James further held out hopes of a Civil Service appointment, not too far away, for Betty's fiancé, and the depression they had all tried to hide from Bobbie had melted away.She knew they took it for granted she had made up her mind to marry Sir James, and that her lassitude was purely physical, and for them it seemed that the day of ill-fortune had indeed passed by.Yet, even at this late hour, she believed one word from Toby would give her the courage to tell Sir James the truth, and trust to his generosity not to disappoint them all now--one word that let her dare to hope that Toby still loved her and believed in her, and would presently come back.But day followed day, and there was no sign out


of the silence and blankness, and a chill hopelessness gained ground in her heart. Of course, if Toby were never coming, it mattered little whether she married Sir James or not. She almost wondered if anything would ever matter again. She would at least have the happy satisfaction of having turned the tide of affairs for her brothers and Betty, and, if Sir James were willing to take her under the circumstances, she might as well follow the obvious course. Perhaps even the town life would not matter now. After all, it was Toby who had made their lovely wilderness joyous. Without him she felt that the trees and the veldt would flower in vain for her. She would have to put the dear, foolish, inconsequent days behind her, and grow up--that was all--as well in one place as another, provided she had the satisfaction of having turned that tide of ill-fortune bearing down upon them.So, on the sixth day of her week's delay, she hardened her heart; and if her laugh was a little harsh as it had never been before, at least it was more frequent.Sir James noted it and was glad, and became emboldened to talk further of giving her Blake's rich farm for a wedding present. But the allusions to Toby almost undid her. Ah, if they could have been there together, how happy they might have been!"Tell me to-day," Sir James had urged gently."No." And she turned her head away to hide the pain in her eyes. "You must play fair. I will tell you tomorrow."CHAPTER XXV
THE MESSAGE.THE next day Blake came to say good-bye to all of them, choosing the luncheon hour because he felt it would look less as if any change had come over their former friendly relationship. He and Toby had often dropped in to lunch, and lazed for a little afterwards during the heat. He knew it would be an ordeal to explain his sudden move, but feared to shirk the ordeal, lest his going off without saying anything should give rise to suspicions.So he rode up, looking unusually spick and span in riding-breeches and gaiters and soft white shirt; but his sinister eyes were a little more furtive, and the line of his thin lips was very hard."Sir James told us you were going away," Ken remarked, throwing
himself into a comfortable chair with a tired air. "What a chap you
are for sudden changes of plans!" He was in his working overalls, and had a generally all-over dusty appearance, with face and hands none too clean, yet he somehow made a pleasing contrast to the successful farmer.There was nothing furtive about Ken's blue eyes, and, though his face was not clean, it was exceedingly attractive. He had just the dogged, determined air of the best type of young British colonist, and


one knew that even the relentless, hard work and ill-luck of the past years had not in the smallest degree beaten him. If he had worn a depressed air at times, it was largely because it seemed that the home might have to be given up and the girls go out to paid posts. Directly the prospect brightened, he was all hope and determination again, ready to sow more dreams into the sometimes pitiless soil of Rhodesia. Bay was of a quieter and more thoughtful nature, and often longed for the companionship of educated, thoughtful men and a path of life where there were new books and papers, and one could meet oftener with original thinkers.But he, too, was blessed with his share of British determination, and, if he ever attained the home he longed for, he meant to win it by genuine hard work. There have been some writers of newspaper articles who pin their faith upon the Scotsman as the best type of colonist, but one can only wonder in what actual field of labour, and among what settlers the writers formed their impression--probably, as is so often the case, a very superficial one of passing observation. If the Scotsman is content with oatmeal where the Englishman demands roast beef, at least the Englishman does not hoard his money or his roast beef, and with them he acquires a cheerful attitude towards many trials.It is not merely economy and hard work that are needed to make a colonist a success. In many senses, the man who laughs and is ever hopeful is a greater asset to his colony, for he will probably stay there and spend his money there, while the frugal man will often take his savings away. In Rhodesia,Irishmen have done well, and many thoughtless,


idle "Paddys" have proved their metal astonishingly, to the unending surprise of various "home" folk, who believed them incapable of sustained endeavour. Scotsmen have done well, too, but not better than others; and any man is a good colonist who is not afraid of work, and can manage to be hopeful in spite of difficulties.Perhaps Ken and Bay Glynn owed more to their sisters than they knew, for the man who "messes" along on indifferent food, and with almost no home comforts, has a smaller chance of keeping fit and well than the man with a woman to "boss him up." The expression is Rhodesian, and not pretty, but more expressive than any other, for it includes the care of all his welfare generally, even to representing an excellent reason for cleanliness.And every year now women appear in greater numbers, spreading far and wide over the lonely districts, and this is one of the country's surest hopes of a great future. For the man, alone, almost always "pigs" it--another Rhodesian expression--be he English, Scotch, Irish, Dutch or South African,and the natives employed in his housework take advantage of him in many ways until a woman takes him in hand and stirs things up generally. Sometimes the men think they prefer peace and quietness; but, in the long run, they know that it was in the hurricane period that they flourished best and felt the fittest.And so, though the Glynns' dining-room consisted of a thatched hut with a baked-mud floor, it had a home-like air such as few mere men could have given to it. The sideboard, made out of old packing-cases by the girls themselves, and painted with the green


ant-proof paint, was partly covered with a pretty cloth that hid its failings, and had a large "Liberty" bowl of flowers and grasses. On a little home-made table, covered with another pretty cloth, were silver photograph frames, more flowers, and a work-basket. A home-made bookcase was draped with green cloth, so that its lower half formed a cupboard, and there were native mats over the floor. And if the table linen was not particularly fine, at least it was spotlessly clean, and had been starched by Betty herself, and the very curtailed number of spoons and forks shone as when new. The commissariat, now that Sir James was at hand, was no longer the burden to the girls that it had been before, and Blake found himself seated before what, at a Rhodesian outpost, was quite a dainty repast. But his discomfort was great, and he heartily wished his visit over. The good fellowship of Ken and Bay, who believed he had tried to thwart Van Tyl just as truly as Bobbie, and the politeness of Sir James, were as trying to him as Betty's obvious effort to hide her distrust, and Bobbie's silence. When Ken, suddenly speaking of Toby, remarked, "By the way, his boy says he went to your place for a bicycle pump the day he left," he nearly lost his head.Bobbie rose from the table and went to the sideboard to cut some bread, and, with an effort, Blake pulled himself together."So I find," he answered with a forced laugh; "and, wherever he is, my bicycle pump appears to have gone with him.""Well, if you run into him on your travels, tell him to hurry up and come back, because my small stock of patience will not run to dealing with many


more Kaffir women on his behalf. One might almost as well trade with
monkeys." And Ken's face expressed his disgust. "All the same"--with a sudden gleam--"I got rid of an awful red flannelette nighty to one yesterday!""You could never hope to sell as Toby does," Bay told him smilingly. "He just makes his customers laugh, and sells them things without their knowing it. He would have done well here by and by, with the mines opening and the natives with more money to buy. It was silly of him to get the trek fever just now."After lunch the girls retired to their hut, and the men sat on a little; then Bay and Ken went back to their work, and Sir James strolled a short distance with Blake."Well," he said, when they were out of earshot, "are you going to consider naming a price?"Conscious chiefly of his discomfort during the visit, Blake replied impulsively:"Would you like to come and look round?""I should," said Sir James, and walked on with him.Thus Sir James was away when, after an early cup of tea, Betty went to her garden and Bobbie was left reading alone. She found she could not keep her attention fixed, and finally laid her book down and rose up to go for a stroll. At a bend in the path, which ran down to the road to Geegi, she stood silently watching the lovely colours in the sky and thinking of Toby. It seemed to her that she was saying good-bye to him. A message could hardly come now, and the merciless wheel of Fate was whirling her on. After to-day she must teach herself to forget him and begin anew.Then suddenly she descried a boy approaching on a bicycle, and her heart thumped unevenly in spite of herself. No boy would be coming thus except with a message, either a letter, a note, or a cable.As he came nearer, she saw that he looked like a civilised boy, and had probably come from the post-office. Cables are not usually delivered, but she knew the brothers had been expecting one from Johannesburg, and had made arrangements that it should be sent, and afterwards had received their reply by letter, so that no cable would be expected.The boy came on swiftly, and she held her hands tightly clenched behind her, standing very upright and still. Instinct told her the longed-for message had come at last, and, whether it brought her joy or pain, she meant to receive it bravely. Then the boy stopped beside her and took from his coat-pocket the tell-tale yellow envelope. Half mechanically she received it and read the brief address: "Glynn, Geegi."For a moment she held it in her hand, fearful of opening it. Would it tell her he was coming back, or would it shatter her last hope?With an effort she turned it over and tore the envelope, feeling a little dizzy as she drew out the flimsy sheet. Finally she opened it and read the message. Then suddenly she grew rigid, and a hard look came into her face."You can go to the house for food," she said to the boy, and, as he departed, she crushed the telegram in her hand.It was a wireless message, sent from a ship, and ran: "Please dispose of store for me. Am sailing for Bombay. Will write later."CHAPTER XXVI.
TOBY IS GAY.WHEN Toby found himself once more amid the haunts of men, an unnatural recklessness seized him. He gambled heavily in the train with a chance acquaintance who proved to have known one of his brothers, and won steadily. Instead of reaching Johannesburg with a few sovereigns in his pocket, he owned bank-notes.They had met in the dining-car, and, talking "sport," had quickly set up an acquaintance. Hereford was in the same regiment as Toby's second brother, and had been on a shooting-trip in North-West Rhodesia with a brother-officer. The latter had gone to see friends in Salisbury, and Hereford was returning alone. He seemed to have plenty of money, and to lose it cheerfully, while Toby's luck only increased his reckless spirit. When they were not playing, he entertained Toby with tales of their adventures in the Kafue Valley with buffalo and rhino, and the sport they had had shooting crocodiles."They vanish into the water like a flash," he said, "so you have to be pretty nippy with your shot to get one."As far as Toby could gather, they had had endless discomforts through their boys, but did not appear


to have minded much. The individual recommended to them as a cook-boy had apparently never seen a frying-pan or a saucepan before; and the head boy,or "capitao"--supposed to do all the arranging and talking-had a fatal weakness for Kaffir beer, and was usually speechlessly drunk. According to Here-ford, they cuffed the cook-boy into finding out how to cook, and brought the capitao to his senses by leaving him behind fast asleep, upon one occasion, with a dead snake lying across his body. They guessed he would not run away because they owed him money, and was likely to get a big enough fright to impress even his thick head.This proved the case, for when the boy eventually caught them up, still looking thoroughly scared, they expressed amazement at seeing him."Me come quick," the boy exclaimed shudderingly."But we told the snake to eat you because you are no good," one said to him seriously. "How is it you are still alive?""So much 'no good,' even a snake wouldn't bother to eat you!" said the other. "Better go to kraal for beer and stay there."But the boy had had his lesson, and he shunned the kraals in future, particularly after Hereford said to him: "Go and drink beer, if you like, but another snake eat you to-night.""We tried to improve the cook-boy by making him eat some bad meat with creosote sprinkled on it. We thought that was something he would never
forget. But would you belie re it?"--plaintively--
"the devil positively liked it--ate it up and asked
for more!"Hereford had still a week's leave to spend some-


where before returning to Potschestrom, so he persuaded Toby to go to Johannesburg with him. In Toby's reckless mood it was an ill move, and at the end of a week of perpetual riot, he had to spend a few days recovering before he dare present himself to his uncle at Cape Town.Mr. Fitzgerald was very glad to see him, and Toby found himself made a little hero because he had been keeping a store in some unheard-of part of Rhodesia. His cousins and their friends persisted in treating it as a great joke, and were never tired of teasing him on the subject. No one took his work seriously, or seemed to think it odd that he should suddenly have thrown it up and come south. They apparently thought he had gone for a joke, and, when the joke wore thin, had given it up. It was a gay time of the year, and once more he found himself dragged into a whirl of gaieties that left him little time to think. And this was just what Toby wanted. When there was a pause, and he had time to remember, his goaded mind immediately pictured Bobbie as Blake's wife, and he felt as if it might drive him mad. For, in spite of all he was suffering, and all the things he believed against her, he loved her still with all his strength. He flirted with his pretty cousins and their pretty friends, played tennis, rode, golfed, fished, motored, always with one or more pairs of bright eyes only too ready to smile on him, and yet nothing eased the soreness underlying his gay exterior. He found himself wondering if Bobbie would like this sort of life, and then dwelling in thought upon her clever adaptability, her boundless courage, and her ready cheerfulness in spite of the wilderness trials. Could any of these girls


face such a life as hers, and remain gay and bright and charming in spite of it? Toby might be boyish in many things, but his nature held real depth, and he knew that only a fine character could face the things Bobbie and Betty had faced without losing one ounce of their inborn gaiety and sweetness. Perhaps he could not have expressed it in words, but in his heart he knew that they had made a fine fight; whether, in the end, Bobbie had proved treacherous or not.And the deeps of his nature seemed to widen now when he suddenly
found himself faced with so dark an awakening. A crispness of thought took the place of his usual laissez-faire, and the man began to eliminate the boy. If he was bitter, it was not altogether a blemish. It gave him force where he had needed force, and made him a strikingly attractive man, instead of merely a delightful youth. But it also made him obdurate in his merciless judgment of Bobbie. He looked round and said: "If all men are liars, all women are deceitful. They are too religious to lie outright, but they get all they want by other underhand ways that seem to them more excusable." Believing this in his bitterness, he moved heartwhole amid the bevy of admiring maidens, trifling with them a little shamelessly, and doing many things that he might later regret, to deaden thought and feeling.But, after a very little time, even these kinds of amusement failed him as an antidote, and bred only a spirit of disgust, which showed that the old, upright, honest-hearted Toby was by no means dead.He turned about in his mind for some other plan, and began to think seriously of Bombay. His uncle,


who had always been fond of him, conceived an even greater liking, and urged him to remain in Cape Town."I like you, Toby, and I can get you a good enough billet for a start, and you can live with us until you are able to pay your way.""You are very good," Toby answered gratefully, "but I've been in the wilderness too long to settle in a town any more. I don't mind towns for two or three weeks, but after that I get the cramp-- I can't breathe freely. This Society life you all live here would just about drive me crazy after a few months.""Yet you seem to take to it very well," said his uncle, with a kindly smile."You have given me an excellent time"--and Toby spoke warmly-"and I'm awfully grateful, and all that, to you and Aunt Mary; but I'm getting restive now, and I must move on.""But not back to Rhodesia?"--with an inquiring, slightly puzzled air.Toby coloured. "No. I want to try a new country-something quite different.""You know what they say about a rolling stone?""Yes. But I don't want any moss; it would only be an encumbrance.""Perhaps you feel like that about it now; but presently, when you want to get married--""I shall never want to get married." He chose a flippant note to hide his feelings. " If I'm ever married, it will be because some woman was too clever for me; and then she'll have to find the 'moss'!" "Ah, well, you're young enough to change your


mind a good many times yet. Where do you think of going?""Basil has often urged me to go and see him in India. He says he can put me up and give me some splendid tiger-shooting. It doesn't cost much by these small German boats to Bombay, and I've rather a hankering after those tigers."His uncle looked grave. "And at the end of a year or two you will be no more forward than you were at twenty-one. I think you had better have stayed at your store.""I wasn't much 'forrader' with five pounds a month profits"--smiling slightly. "Anyhow, there's time enough for work. If the governor sends me the remittance I asked for, I shall go and have a look at India, and perhaps get a billet in some outlandish place there."There was a chorus of disapproval when his intentions became known, among both maids and matrons; for though he possessed no money, he was, at least, General Fitzgerald's son, and the nephew of an influential Government man. He might have chosen more than one bride with a small fortune; but a tall, slim girl with a regally-carried head, dressed generally in a short, business-like khaki skirt, and much occupied with odd occupations, such as carpentering and even building, filled all the background of his mind, whether he would or no, and made him long to get away from the country, where her presence threatened his peace of mind continually. So he laughed at the maids and the matrons, and watched anxiously for his father's letter. When it came, containing the desired remittance, he made no attempt to conceal his relief,


and sallied forth to inquire when a ship would next leave Durban for Bombay.He found he must hasten to catch the first steamer between Cape Town and Durban to be in time for it, and hurriedly got his few things together. He was glad there was not much time for leave-taking, and almost none for reproaches, which, in a sense, he deserved, for had he not lightly taken advantage of lips that smiled invitingly? He felt a sudden longing for the rise and sweep of the mighty billows of the Southern Pacific, and the sting of the salt breezes on board ship. Thus the first evening found him pacing the deck with a revivified consciousness and a ray of hope that life might yet hold something to make it worth while, even if it were only tiger-shooting in India. Spurred by this feeling, he sought the "wireless" operator, and sent his curt request to the Glynn brothers to dispose of his store.CHAPTER XXVII.
TOBY MAKES A NEW FRIEND.THE voyage to Durban was uneventful, except that he won more money, and again reached a journey's end with bank-notes where he had previously carried gold. He won three first prizes in the "sweeps," and had unvarying good luck at cards. It made him smile ironically. Surely the old adage was true indeed: "Lucky at cards, unlucky in love."At Durban he stayed at the Marine Hotel, and amused himself
shark-fishing while he waited for the day when the Bombay boat would sail. This time he felt less inclined to be sociable, and avoided any overtures from other visitors. All his thoughts were bent upon India. Surely, as far away as that, with entirely fresh surroundings, he would at length forget?The only visitor he noticed at all was a little Portuguese lady, sitting alone at the next table to him, and looking very forlorn. She appeared to be hardly more than twenty-five, and shy of speaking to anyone, though her large dark eyes wandered often to Toby's face. All day she sat alone on the wide verandah of the hotel, overlooking the bay, and at last Toby's kind heart was touched, and he paused by her chair to ask her how she liked Durban. She


flushed charmingly, and looked pleased as she answered: "I am only waiting here for my ship. I do not like being alone, and I am shy--do you call it? --of my English.""I am only waiting for my ship also. I am taking the German ship to Bombay.""Ah"--and her eyes lit up- "I take that one also! I am going to Chinde, where my husband will meet me, and then we go up country, where he is a Government official.""I thought these boats did not stop at Chinde.""They do not generally, but he has obtained special permission, and he will meet me there. I am frightened he will not come," she added confidingly. "He has so far to journey to the coast. I shall be miserable alone. My father put me on board the ship to come here, and the captain brought me to the hotel; but now I must go on board alone, and if my husband is not at Chinde, I shall be terrified.""You must let me help you. I believe we start tomorrow morning early. They are small ships, and not very comfortable, I'm afraid."Her whole face expressed her relief and gratitude, and Toby sat down beside her, because she seemed to him piquant and artless, and rather to be pitied. She told him she was full of nervous dread about going to live at an outpost, but her husband had sent for her, and so she was going."Perhaps you will like it better than you expect," he suggested."No"--and she shook her head decidedly--"I do not like the quiet places, with no people, and no shops, and no bands. Alfonse does not like them


either, and that will make him cross and bad-tempered.""Then why doesn't he get a job somewhere else?""He cannot"--with a dismal air. "We had money when we married. His father was English, and we went to England, and we were so happy there, we spent all we had. When there was only a little left, he tried to sell motor-cars to make m re, but it was not a success. Then we had nothing, and we had to go to my father in Portugal. Alfonse is half English, and he does not like Portugal; but as he had nothing, when my father get him this post, he had to take it. And it is so far away, and there are many lions, and I know I shall be for ever frightened.""Couldn't you have stayed with your father?""Portuguese wives do not like to stay with their fathers as if their husbands could not afford to keep them. And, besides, Alfonse wrote and said I was to come. He will be waiting for me at Chinde."Toby looked into the small, lovely face, and he thought to himself how it was from all countries the demand was made--the demand upon the women to go out into the wilderness with the men. There w as something infinitely pathetic to him about the thought of such a frail, delicate-looking little creature in the wilds of Portuguese East Africa, with her frank love of bands and shops and people; and he thought the husband must be rather a poor creature to bring her to it so quickly by running through his money. It was a small easement of his own sense of loneliness to take care of her, and he was glad they were starting their journey on the same steamer.They went down to the quay together the next morning, and all her forlornness vanished in the joy of having a protector. A travelling circus and menagerie was going up the coast to Delagoa Bay and she watched with quite a gleeful interest while the various animals were swung aboard and lowered into the hold. Then nothing would do but Toby must help her to ascertain that they all had water and by the time they steamed out of the harbour, she seemed to have adopted him as an old friend. Toby was surprised to find how interesting she could be, and once more gave himself up to the solace of an attractive companionship.There were very few passengers on board, and these few of a nondescript nature, so it fell about naturally that they should spend the whole day together, and sit up late to get the cool night air on deck.At Delagoa Bay they went ashore, and explored the town of Lorenco Marques, staying late to hear the band in the piazza, and returning reluctantly to their hot and stuffy cabins."It is so hot down there!" Lucia moaned plaintively, and looked at the cool, inviting deck under the stars."Don't let's go down yet," he said impulsively. "Come to our old seat for a little." And he took her arm and drew her along.He felt her tremble and shrink a little, but she made no protest, suffering herself to be led to the: secluded corner where their chairs were.For a few moments they sat in silence, and then, half-unconsciously, a sigh broke from Toby's lips."You sigh," she said softly. "You are not


happy. I have seen it. You laugh and you joke, but all the time, underneath, you sigh."He glanced at her in the dim light in some surprise. It astonished him that she had had the perspicacity to perceive it. Was she, then, not such a child, after all?"Oh, I don't know," he said a little callously. "I suppose we all get the blues occasionally.""I think it is more than that"--and her voice was very winsome. "The blues, as you call it, dues not mean sadness, and sometimes you are sad.""How did you discover it?" His voice had a softer note. "You have not had much time for sadness.""You think not?"--with a little plaintive smile. Then she added timidly: "Sympathy is good. Will not you tell me?"Toby ran his fingers through his hair restlessly, and Lucia waited, with a soft allurement in her whole attitude.Then suddenly the luxury of speaking seemed to cry to him, and in a few terse sentences he told her all."Ah," she said, when he ceased, "were you not a little quick to decide? Perhaps there was an explanation.""I should have thought so if she had not promised. But she had only just given the promise. She could not have forgotten already. I was fooled!" he finished bitterly. "I thought she cared, and she did not--that is all. I shall not make the same silly mistake again.""She was very foolish," murmured the soft little voice beside him. "She should have known you


were a man worth--" She stopped suddenly in some confusion, and he saw her interlace her fingers tightly."A man worth loving, were you going to say?" --speaking a little harshly. "Oh, no--just a silly boy to make a fool of!""Other women will not make a fool of you.""I don't know. I think it is very unlikely I shall give them the chance.""No, no!"--with a tremulous note in her voice. "They will be ready to die for you, to suffer for you what you are suffering for her!"He turned to her with a laugh on his lips, and saw in the dim light that her long lashes were shining with tears. Once more she seemed to have that infinitely pathetic, forlorn appearance, and his heart smote him. 'Why, I have brought tears to your eyes telling you of my troubles! That must never be. Don't be so sorry, little woman. I have learnt my lesson--I shall not be a fool again."And he clasped his big hand over the tiny ones lying in her lap, with a warm pressure.She drew in her breath sharply and sat very still for a moment. Then, as if she had been waiting to steady her voice, she said: "I cannot bear you to talk like that. Some day"--another pause--"you will love again, and then you will not feel bitter any more, and you will forget.""Never! She was not like other girls. I cannot tell you what she was like, but no one will ever take her place. But you are a dear little soul to be so sympathetic, and to listen to me, and I thank you very much." With that he raised the two little hands to his lips and kissed them. She sat


as if spellbound, and, as if to rally her, he said: "Now you must confide in me. What sadness have you to make you read so quickly when another is not happy?""I may not tell my sadness," she breathed, "except to the stars, when no one can hear."He looked at her with keen, kindly eyes. "Not even to Alfonse?" he asked."Ah, no, no"--with a quick, almost frightened tone--"never to
Alfonse!" Then she added, with a child-like dignity: "Alfonse sends for me, so I come." Something in her strained, white face made him suddenly thoughtful. The simple declaration revealed side-lights. Was it not the desolation only that she dreaded ahead? Was she, perhaps, going to the silent martyrdom of the woman alone at an outpost with a man she did not love? He felt it was too delicate a subject to speak of, and yet, just because he was so lonely and sore himself, her loneness appealed overpoweringly to him. Suddenly he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, just for the healing touch of her soft, warm little body in his grasp. He moved nearer, and his hand upon hers tightened."Poor little girl!" he whispered, wondering if he might take her in his arms.But, as if she half divined his thoughts, she seemed suddenly to force herself to her feet."You must not be too kind, Mr. Fitzgerald," she said, in a voice that was not very steady. "It does not always make sadness easier. I think I will go to bed. Good night!" And she glided noiselessly away, to sob herself to sleep, in her little hot cabin, under the bedclothes.CHAPTER XXVIII.
BOBBIE'S ANSWER.WHEN Bobbie handed Toby's message to Bay, directly he came up from the mine, she laughed with that new hard ring in her voice and said: "I didn't bring it straight back, because I knew you wouldn't be here; and in the meantime I seem to have sat on it."Noting particularly the foreign note in her voice, Betty went to her brother and leaned over his shoulder as he smoothed out the crumpled paper and read the telegram."Well," she exclaimed, "I never thought Toby would have treated friends in this unceremonious way! Surely he could have written before he sailed? A letter from Bombay will not reach us for weeks."Bay looked puzzled and unhappy. "Perhaps he will post somewhere on the coast. I can't believe he would go to India and never send us more than this. He is probably on his way across already. How is anyone to know when and where a wireless started? The date and the name of the ship reveal nothing at all to us.""Except that he has gone," said Bobbie. She seemed to be holding her head a little higher than


usual, with a half-defiant air. All her generous instincts of justice were outraged. What right had Toby to condemn her so utterly without giving her one chance to explain--to jump instantly to the conclusion that she was treacherous and base-- to let all that had gone before go for nothing at all, and be influenced solely by the one fateful hour? Did he truly forget everything they had ever said to each other of truth and honour and loyalty? Was it possible he credited her with nothing but lying,lying, lying? She clenched her teeth together in a swift whirl of feeling. If the fateful hour were to all appearances utterly damning, for the sake of what had gone before, he owed it to her to hear what she had to say before judging. At first she had felt only bitter sorrow that such a shock should have come upon him, and she not there to comfort him. All her motherliness and tenderness had yearned over him, knowing well how his life would in the first unreasoning hours seem torn up by the roots; but at the back of it all had been an invincible belief that truth would triumph, and he would come back and let her explain.But that he should go away to another country like this came upon her as a blow. It was inconceivable, monstrous, that he should calmly put an ocean between them, and bury himself so that not even a letter could reach him! It struck at the very roots of her pride and honour. Surely he could never really have loved her to treat her so!"I don't understand it at all," Bay continued. "Something must have happened to make him behave so strangely. What in the world is he going to India for?"He looked at his sister questioningly, but Bobbie had already turned away, and something in the resolute expression of her face and poise of her head forbade questioning. Of course, the two brothers had known that she and Toby were special friends, but they had not imagined any serious love-making, partly because of Toby's utter lack of the where-withal to contemplate marriage, and because both were full young. They thought they were but helping each other to be gay and pass the time where such a dearth of ordinary pleasuring prevailed. If something serious had come of the friendship in a few years, they would have been very glad, but in the meantime it certainly did not occur to either that Bobbie was not entirely free to marry Sir James if she chose. And naturally now they could but hope that she would. Although, in his readiness to help them in every possible way, Sir James had insistently implied that it was a privilege and delight to make some return for Bobbie's great service to him, they could not choose but perceive the real bent of his feelings, and how in a quiet way he was paying her earnest attentions. And if in the end he won her, they could only rejoice exceedingly that her future happiness should seem so safely secured.Betty suspected differently--perhaps she had seen more of Bobbie and Toby together--but since she knew nothing of the episode at Blake's, and could not in any way account for Toby's strange behaviour, she only felt a vague anger against him. When she saw the change in Bobbie after the telegram arrived, her anger grew more tangible, though at the same time she had a tinge of worldliness that made her glad at the prospect that he would not now


come between her sister and Sir James. It was this worldly wisdom that later caused her to leave Sir James and Bobbie alone after dinner. Bay and Kenneth had gone to their little office to settle some boy's pay, and the others were sitting out in the starlight, on a rustic bench a little distance from the huts, where the night air came up from the veldt. Bobbie was talking much more gaily than she had done of late, and laughing more freely, though with a ring that had not the old sincerity. Sir James seemed gayer, too. He was keenly aware of the change in Bobbie, without having any clue to a special cause, and hoped it only meant that her week of indecision was over, and she intended to make him happy. Accordingly, he was grateful to Betty when she got up and said she was going in to write a letter to catch the English mail, leaving them alone with the sweet scents, the familiar sounds, and all the alluring mystery of the night."My dear," he said simply, "in two days I must start back to Lobenwayo. I have been away over-long already. Are you going to send me back happy?"She did not answer, and he drew her hand into his. "You will give
me my answer to-night, won't you, dear?" he continued. "If I seem too old, and you cannot love me, tell me so now, and I will try to take it as well as possible. Life cannot be quite the same again. I feel I shall always love you. But I will work harder, if anything, for your sake.""It is not that you are too old--you do not seem old to me at all-but I am so young and--and inexperienced, and I am afraid I should not--" She paused nervously."Ah, my dear little girl, do you think I am afraid of any single thing except your not loving me? If you can care for me enough to be my wife, I am not afraid of your youthfulness. Indeed, I love it. Together we can do a great deal for Rhodesia, I hope. In that, this youthfulness of yours may be a special help. When I am inclined to grow prosy and a bore, you can laugh at me and keep me young.""I should be very glad to help you," she told him simply. "I think I care more about that than anything. I think it might make my life seem so much better worth while if I could feel I had been of real use to such a man as you."He looked at her a little sadly. He recognised that she spoke no word of loving him."Yet I hope there is love also," he said gravely, "else you might live bitterly to regret that we ever met.""I do not think so. From the moment I saw you I was drawn to you. Perhaps I have hardly known you long enough for love, but, ever since we met, you have seemed to me the personification of all that a man should be. I only hesitated because --because it seemed hardly enough to give you.""I think the other will follow. I love you so much, it seems as if my love must draw yours. I think it will draw it. God knows, I will devote my life to you!"The voices of Ken and Bay sounded in the distance, and they both stood up.Sir James put his arm round her, and she did not seek to stay him."Bobbie, are you going to give me your promise?" he asked."Yes," she answered bravely, "I will marry you and be the best wife I can; but you mustn't expect too much at first"--and her voice broke a little.For answer, he took her in his arms and kissed her again and again.Then, before they turned away he said: "I have practically settled with Blake to buy his farm, and, if I do, I should like to give it to you. Will it please you to have it?"She shuddered, as if a cold wind had struck her, and her face placed in the darkness, but she only said: "What am I to do with it?""You can decide that later. We shall like to come here sometimes for the sake of our memories, and somehow Blake is not a neighbour one wants. Do you think he is?""No," she answered steadily."We shall both prefer his farm to his company?" --with a little smile."I think so.""He would not decide to-day, and he is leaving early to-morrow. He said he wanted to think it over, and would write to me."Then they returned slowly to the huts, and Bobbie looked round upon the old familiar scene, feeling that some part of her was dead and buried, and its place taken by a new being who would never laugh with quite the old relish, nor hope with the old hope. But Ken and Bay and Betty all looked glad beyond telling when they heard from Sir James that the engagement was settled, and Bobbie told herself that henceforth she must try to find her gladness in them and in service, even if, deep down in her heart, she cherished Toby's image for ever.CHAPTER XXIX.
SIR JAMES IS ANXIOUS.IT is hardly possible in Rhodesia to occupy the interval of an engagement in manifold shopping, as is usually the case in England; and in Bobbie's case it was even less so than with many, seeing that: Sir James had a charming home all ready for her, and she had no money for a trousseau. But this was no disappointment to the prospective bride, who was rather impatient of such things, and who, now the engagement was finally settled, was a great deal more interested in Sir James's political affairs than in frocks and furniture.Perhaps this was a little owing to her state of mind. Whether Bobbie knew it or not, she had in her the seeds of a certain fanaticism for anything that appealed to her strongly, and she was capable of going to great lengths for the sake of an idea. Telling herself, therefore, that her dream of happiness was for ever shattered, she tried to deaden the memory of it by sacrificing herself upon the altar of usefulness.Sir James had told her she could be of great help to him in his work, and that together they would achieve much in the interests of Rhodesia. Bobbie had all along nursed a romantic view of the young

 Picture in the body of Page's "The Pathway"
country she had made her home, and dreamed it a gloriously satisfying thing to devote one's life to helping such a country forward on its road of progress. And now that love had failed her, she sought honestly to rise above her bitter sense of loss and wrong, and throw herself heart and soul into the path of usefulness that offered. She did not pretend. Pretence, in the ordinary sense, was impossible to her. She never tried to persuade either herself or Sir James that she was swayed by love. She knew perfectly well that she loved Toby's memory still, and that any day she would have chosen, if she might, to be poor and obscure with him. But, since that possibility seemed to her closed for ever, she set herself bravely to do her best in the path that appeared to be the one mapped out.She believed Toby was even now crossing the ocean to India, having resolutely killed his love for her, and that with him had gone her chance for that real, deep happiness which she had believed he would bring to her life. Little, indeed, did she dream that he was still at the coast, nursing a heart as hopeless as her own, while he cheered with kindly attentions a forlorn little Portuguese traveller!To please Sir James, she and Betty paid a visit to Lobenwayo, and stayed two weeks in the beautiful home he had built on the outskirts of the town. Naturally the engagement had caused a considerable stir, and the house was inundated by callers; but,true to his promise, Sir James made no demur when Bobbie chose to hide herself in the garden and fix daily a forbidding "Not at Home" at the front door. She was only to be seen motoring with him, and the curiosity of the town was kept at a keen

 
edge. One thing alone was certain. The distinguished politician was gayer and younger than he had been for years, and even if, as the women said,: the prospective bride was "not much to look at," and a mere girl, it was obvious her lover was devoted to her. Perhaps many people were irritated by her reluctance to show herself and her indifference to their distinguished selves, as well as by the fact that she had so triumphantly carried off the most eligible bachelor the country had ever contained. But Bobbie and Betty had a little wisdom of their own, and they both knew that the Misses Glynn, poorly dressed, were quite another matter to Lady Fortescue, poorly dressed, and to pique curiosity was better than to court disdain. So the invitations were declined, and Bobbie threw herself into mastering all the intricacies of Sir James's public, position, numbing the ache in her heart, which would not die, with the doubtful assuaging of a future career. Sir James was pleased that she should be so ready to take up a personal and deep interest in his work, but there were moments when he mused a little painfully that it seemed to absorb her interest in him. He would have liked to see her gay and inconsequent and careless as he had found her, washing her blouses at the huts. And, instead, ever since the tragic night when she had saved him, she seemed to have been so much more grave and thoughtful. In some mysterious way spontaneous gaiety appeared to have deserted her, and where she had laughed so joyously, she now only laughed quietly, and sometimes even that with a mechanical air. It baffled and puzzled him. At first he had put her new gravity down to the shock and bodily


exhaustion, and afterwards to the anxious state of mind about her engagement; but when, after a week at Lobenwayo, in which he did everything a mortal man might do to please her, he saw no return of the lightness he sought, but rather a growing seriousness, his heart began to misgive him a little. Was it possible some other reason lay behind, of which he knew nothing? His mind went back, probing the past, and he was puzzled again by the belief that she had known something about Blake, in connection with Van Tyl's murderous plan, that she had chosen to hide. If it was weighing on her mind, he wished she would tell him, and let him share the burden with her. In the end he tried to tax her with it gently, but she was instantly on her guard, and gave him no clue at all, except that she was on her guard, which confirmed his suspicion that she had a secret. Curiously enough, it did not occur to him to associate Toby's disappearance with the puzzle. Before him the move had been made light of, and he had only seen enough of Toby to imagine easily that he would be a creature of impulse. So he put it down to impulse, and thought very little about it. The secret, he supposed, was some reason Bobbie had for shielding Blake. He did not mind her shielding him in the least, but he would have been glad if she had trusted him with the truth, as he might then have divined what shadowed her mind. He tried once more, on receiving a brief letter from Blake, saying he would sell the farm. He wrote from some unheard-of place he had gone to near Beira, to shoot elephants, and mentioned that he was having excellent sport. "I have heard accounts of British East Africa that tempt me to


try the life there, and I shall be willing to accept? the terms we named," he wrote. "I will appoint someone to act for me, if I do not return myself, but this trip will last a week or two longer yet.""He does not appear to have heard of our engagement," Sir James said to Bobbie, as he handed her the letter. He saw her change colour as she read it, and noticed that she did not meet his eyes, but wore rather a troubled expression as she folded it up."I suppose he is some way from civilisation," she suggested, "and would not hear any news.""I expect he will not be very surprised"--and Sir James smiled. "What do you think?""I don't know "--and a lovely colour showed in her cheeks a moment."Well, I am glad we are to have the farm. We will re-name it, I think. I don't care much for the site of his house, either. Shall we build another higher up, where the view is wider?""Yes, I think it would be much nicer."She still looked away from him out of the window, and, now that the flush had died away, he fancied she appeared unusually pale."It is to be yours," he said lightly, "so, of course, you must decide on the new name, and new site, and style of house, and everything. I think you will have to have a manager there. He can live in Blake's old house. What a pity we can't get Fitzgerald!" He paused a moment, but she made no comment. "How long do you think he will stay in India?""I don't think he will come back at all. His brother often urged him to go.""I'm sorry. I liked him, and I liked the way he made you laugh, little woman. You mustn't grow too serious. I don't want even a shadow of my burdens to fall upon you." She clenched her hands suddenly on the arms of her chair, and was silent, unable to trust herself to speak. "You know you are much graver than you were that day I found you washing blouses," he ran on, leaning over the back of her chair and touching her hair softly. "It makes me feel as if in some way I had brought you a shadow instead of only sunlight."She bit her teeth together, fearing every moment tears would spring to her eyes, but after a moment she managed to say fairly naturally: "Perhaps it is the responsibility of the new position. I was such a nobody before. By and by, when I am used to it --""Don't look at it in that light. Leave all the responsibility to me. There need be only happiness for you.""You are very good "--and she slipped her hand confidingly into his. The thought crossed her mind if only there had been no Toby--had never been any Toby at all-what richness of happiness he might have given her! But all her efforts yet had done little to banish the memory of Toby's sunny hair and sunny eyes, and big, robust, laughter-loving personality. The romance of her soul cried out for him. Power and place were nothing. Rather the store in the wilderness with him than the perfectly-appointed residence and the eminence of Sir James's position. But she had placed her hand to the plough ; there could be no turning back. That was not her way.And, besides, of what use to retract now and disappoint everyone? Was not Toby steaming away in the sunshine across the ocean to India?At the end of the fortnight, at her special wish, she and Betty returned to their home. There was to be a speedy marriage--what object in delay?--and she thought she would like to spend the last few weeks with Betty and her brothers at the huts.So Lobenwayo awoke one day to the fact that the birds had flown, and that this strange young woman positively wanted to return to her huts to have as much of them as possible before she came to dwell in the town's most attractive house. No fuss about pretty new clothes, no happy displaying of wedding-presents, no joyful planning in the pretty house--just huts in the wilderness, at some unheard-of outpost, until she must needs say good-bye to them for a home half the women in the country would envy her.Of a truth she was eccentric, and voices began privately to commiserate with Sir James that he had been "caught" by so unaccountable an individual."But there--it is continually the way," nodded the wiseacres. "The choice of lovely and charming women galore for years, and then, in middle age, to fall absurdly in love with a lanky girl of no particular distinction whatever!"Bobbie would have laughed to have heard the epithet "lanky." It was the description she always used herself, but one which others scorned because her best feature was her slim, graceful figure and perfect poise. Of a truth she would hold her own in the charming bungalow, even among those of greater personal beauty.CHAPTER XXX.
TOBY CHANGES HIS MIND.THE morning after Toby and his little Portuguese companion had stayed late in the piazza at Lorenco Marques. to listen to the band, and afterwards sat on deck to enjoy the cool night air, he found her manner held a new constraint to him. She appeared to make an effort to seem quite as friendly, and yet all the time to be conscious of herself and him in a new way. He was sorry about it, and strove to set her at her ease and break down what threatened to develop into a barrier. Perhaps, if he had not been so much wrapped up in his own trouble, he would have divined more quickly what was disturbing her; but, as it was, he was content to stop short at the belief that she returned to her husband unwillingly, and was vexed that she had let him see it. That a new and overpowering love for him had sprung into being that careless day at Lorenco Marques did not enter his mind. Had he not told her his trouble, and how no one could ever take Bobbie's place? How, then, should she fall in love with him ? But Toby was not very wise in the ways of women, and what seemed to him a safeguard and barrier might very well have been the incentive. First he appealed to her because


he was kind in her loneliness, then because seemed joyous and made her laugh, last and strongest because, underneath, he was in great trouble himself, and all her tender woman's sympathy enlisted for him her love. Her warm southern blood was hot against the woman who had failed him, who had been so blind not to perceive all he was and all he had to give. That he loved her still did not make him any the less attractive to her. She only wanted to heal the wound and pour the balm of a deeper love upon his soreness.But, somewhere away in Portuguese East Africa, Alfonse was even now journeying down to the coast to meet her, and, with the simplicity of greatness, she set herself to avoiding Toby's warmth of friendliness because of what she owed her husband. She did not let herself probe and question, She sat very still, with her large, soft eyes often on the' horizon, nerving herself for the ordeal life demanded of her. Yet, when Toby came and sat beside her, she could not send him away, and for the little time that remained she drank half unconsciously of the sweetness of his presence.At Inambane, a lovely little tropical place where the ship anchored for a few hours, they again went ashore and spent a gay, happy time together. It was as though, by tacit consent, both had agreed. to leave whatever troubles they had behind them, and make the most of their shore excursion. So Toby laughed and "fooled" again, and Lucia laughed with him, and the time slipped by with lightning speed until they found themselves once more side by side on deck, revelling in the cool night air. And once more the fascination of the


hour and the allurement of her seductive youth and freshness seemed to draw him whether he would or no, and he longed to take her in his arms. He placed his hand over hers, and, when she started as if to draw away, he said: "No, don't do that. We are such great friends, and we understand each other."She yielded to him, and sat very still, with her tiny hands fast clasped in his."I wish you were coming across to Bombay," he said simply. "I shall miss you horribly. I would rather you had not been on the ship at all than have you go away and leave me alone."She smiled wistfully. He little knew what the parting meant to her."We cannot go ashore together any more," he ran on, "and it has been so jolly having your company.""Not at Beira?" she asked, with a little anxious note in her voice. "I thought it was a nice place to see, because of the sea-wall and the grass golf links."She saw his face harden suddenly. "No," he said, "I shall not go ashore at Beira.""You don't like it?" she ventured, after a pause."I neither like nor dislike it, but nothing will induce me to go ashore."She was puzzled and slightly chilled. How little her pleasure was to him, after all! Even if she had set her heart on going, he would not take her. She did not know that Beira is only a day's journey from Rhodesia--that a train would probably
be standing in the station, which, should he choose,

 
would carry him quickly back to the country he had loved and forsworn.Toby himself could not have explained his feelings about it. He only knew that he was determined not to leave the ship at Rhodesia's east coast port. Then, as if divining her disappointment, he rallied her with a manner of playful tenderness."There's nothing there but sand and heat and flies, and little tin shacks built on mud heaps. We can be much more comfortable on board."She did not answer him, but a little later remarked: "And the next place will be Chinde."His hand tightened over hers, and she caught ; her breath sharply. "You poor little soul! "he said, as if divining her dread. "But it probably will be lots better than you expect. Anyhow, you will have good natives to do all the work, and not dirty Mashonas. I believe most households up there have about twelve servants, and they are all good."She smiled bravely as she answered: "That is nice."Toby felt, rather than saw, the underlying sadness of her smile, and his kind heart was touched. He half turned and looked into her eyes. "I'm afraid you hate the thought of it like Hades; but what a brave little creature you are to go! I think it is splendid of you; others would, too. Doesn't it help a little to know that?""I go because I must. Is that any great thing to do?""Yes, I think it is. You might have found a way to stay--somewhere else.""I do not think I want to stay anywhere else." 


Her voice was trembling a shade, and she turned her head away from him."Not even in Bombay, with me?"--rallying her lightly.To his surprise, her eyes filled suddenly with tears."Now I've made you cry again!"--in quick self-condemnation. "What a fool I am! Don't be vexed with me, dear."His hand strayed caressingly up her arm. Just across the stretch of sea the coast-line showed faintly in the dim light of the stars. Just behind the coast-line, only a day's journey, was Rhodesia. He could not look at it nor think of it. His very pain made him merciless, reckless, cruel. She was so dainty, so soft, so alluring, and she did not love her husband."If I caused the tears, I must take them away. See, little woman, we've both got rather a dreary time ahead. Let's be happy while we may, or, at any rate, as near to it as we can get."She grew very white, and drew herself up, but she did not speak.He slipped his arm round her, and her breath came unevenly."Kiss me, Lucia!" he whispered. "Only the stars will know!"Only the stars! It seemed to sound some clarion call to her, and suddenly she drew away, disengaged herself from his arm, and stood up."Somewhere under the stars Alfonse is perhaps trekking to the coast for me. I love the stars. I do not want them to see. What is it you English say, 'One must play the game'? I've heard


Alfonse say it. You mustn't kiss me, and I mustn't' kiss you. It wouldn't be 'playing the game.'"He looked at her curiously and a little ashamed.' She was showing a force of character he had not I credited her with."I'm sorry!" he breathed, as she stood a moment beside him."So am I," she whispered. "I--I should like to kiss you--I want to--but it wouldn't be playing fair. And one has to try, however much it hurts."Suddenly he seized her hand and pressed it to. his lips. "Bless you! I'd have felt an unmitigated cad afterwards, and you've saved me. Perhaps it is a good thing we have to part.""Perhaps. Good night!" And, trying bravely to smile, she went away and left him.But the next day she was not shy with him, and he was grateful to her. He knew that she was showing him she trusted him, in spite of what he had done. It filled him with a wish to do something , for her to prove his gratitude, and he was sorry that they must soon reach Chinde, and her husband would come out in a tug to fetch her from the steamer. There was only Beira to stop at first, and here he would not land. But soon after the ship was at anchor, and they were leaning over the rail together, watching the port and the shipping, a steward came to her with a telegram. She paled a little when she saw it, and opened it with awkward, nervous fingers. When she had read it, an exclamation broke from her lips, and she looked up blankly to the horizon."What is it? Not bad news, I hope?" he asked.For answer, she gave him the flimsy paper, and he read aloud--"Unavoidably prevented going to Chinde. Land at Beira and take
train to Salisbury. I will trek there and fetch you.Love.--ALFONSE.""Good gracious!" he exclaimed."What am I to do?" she asked in bewilderment. "We only stay here an hour or two.""I think you will be obliged to follow his instructions."She gazed at the telegram, and the frightened look in her eyes that had so appealed to him at Durban came back in full force. "To go alone," she murmured, "to Beira--to Salisbury! I don't feel as if I dare.""It will be quite simple," he told her reassuringly. "I'll help you get your things together, and then the captain will send you ashore, and you must take the train."She looked at him piteously. "Must I go ashore alone?"Toby glanced away a moment, and unconsciously knitted his forehead into a frown. Of course, he ought to take her, if there was time. And yet-- and yet--She waited, dimly divining his struggle. She could not ask him to go, and yet, with all her soul, she prayed that he would. Then he remembered how he had wished for a way to prove his thanks to her for not letting him show himself an unmitigated cad. And here, at the first opportunity, he sought to cry off.Suddenly he turned to her. "You were a little brick last night. I felt I'd do anything for I'll change my mind and go ashore with you. I can see you safely into the train, and I'll wire to someone I know in Salisbury and ask him to meet you.""Oh, thank you, thank you!" she breathed, and seemed unable to say any more."You run and begin your packing," he told her, "and I'll find out about the train, and how long we have, and all that."A little later he returned to her cabin to tell her she had only an hour, as the train left at seven, and there was no other for two days, and he though she had better try to catch it, as it was an unhealthy time in Beira, and she would be more comfortable in Salisbury. She looked into his eyes a moment blankly, and he knew the thought in hers. Only one hour more together, and then--silence. The pain of her expression went straight to his heart, and he turned away with a lump in his throat. But a second later he was rallying her with a gay laugh, as he began to thrust things into her cabin trunk."I guess you never packed so quickly before. What a sight your clothes will be when you see them again! Here, what's this? Does it matter if your shoe cream runs out all over it? I'm thankful men don't have to carry so many finnicky things about. I could pack my things in five minutes, and nothing be any the worse. Mind I don't pack you among your clothes by mistake, such a little bit of a thing you are! Do you know we have to be carried through the mud to get ashore? If your 


carrier drops you, I shall wire to Heatherington to meet a mud pie. We have to sit on niggers' shoulders, so I bet my chap will go a header with me. Is this a hat or a shoe? Does it matter if it is squashed up? " And so he ran on gaily, bravely, heartening her in spite of herself, and making her laugh, though tears shone in her eyes, until at last the trunks were packed and locked, and a steward came to fetch them on deck.CHAPTER XXXI.
AN ENCOUNTER.TOBY'S fears concerning the powers of their carriers to remain upright were not realised, which fortunate, as the mud through which they carried was of a particularly black, slimy, odorous nature. Lucia found herself hoisted on to shoulder of a tall native, and clinging with all might to his woolly head, while he balanced a truly remarkable manner. When he skidded which was not unusual, she screamed; but Toby called to her reassuringly, and finally received.' into his arms on the landing-stage, where his native had practically flung him, staggering beneath his weight.They succeeded in getting through the Custom House quickly, as Lucia was able to converse the officials in Portuguese, and then Toby her into one of the curious little conveyances run along on rails through the sand, pushed by black boys, and made them hurry to the store."I hear you will only be able to get a breakfast at one station, and dinner at another, the whole journey, so you must have some food with you," he said, and at the store, insisted upon having a


box packed with many things she thought she would like.Lucia expostulated at first, but, finding it quite useless, subsided into silence, and merely watched him, her large eyes dwelling on his face as if she would imprint it on her mind for ever. He was gay again now, making the anæmic assistant at the store laugh and run about to serve him as if he were the President. Only he avoided looking into Lucia's eyes. Something in their depths hurt him more than he could bear. They were the eyes of a patient dumb animal, suffering because it must. He felt that, small and frail and timid as she was, in some way she embodied a tragedy. The remorseless wheel of fate had gripped her as it swung round, and to cry out was useless. Whether she cried or not, struggled or not, it would grip her still. The only difference was that, in enduring silently, she was true to some dim, heroic ideal, and had no need to be ashamed before the tribunal of her own heart. Toby noted the expression in her eyes above the firm little mouth, and looked away because it tempted him to snatch her up and run off with her bodily, rather than let her go on to what lay ahead. When they reached the station it was dark, and heavy clouds filled the sky, obscuring the stars, and occasionally muttering with the angry growls of distant thunder. There was something uncanny about the wall of dense blackness that rose up in front of the engine, with those occasional menacing growls sounding out of the night. A stronger and more independent woman might have felt qualms if she were starting alone into a dense jungle such as surrounds the first part of the Beira-


Rhodesia Railway. To poor Lucia it was a nightmare, and her face was deadly pale in the light of the lamps, but the brave little mouth firm still.Toby sought out the conductor, and, in his pleasantest and most attractive manner, enlisted his attentions for the solitary traveller."She ought to have a mosquito net," the conductor said; "the mosquitoes will be very bad indeed to-night.""I have one, but it is packed in my trunk," Lucia replied nervously. "Could I get it out on' the station?""I dare say I can find one for you," he told: her pleasantly, and hurried off."He is a nice man, and he will take care of you," Toby said reassuringly. "I have wired to Hetherington, and sent him a letter by this train as well. He will meet you and take you to the hotel where you must wait for your husband.""Thank you!" she breathed unsteadily, unable to raise her eyes. She was thinking how they were to have had another evening together, and a last long talk under the stars on deck, and instead was this dreadful rush and hurry, the sudden parting, and she herself steaming alone into the black, terrible night ahead."You must write and tell me how you get on," he continued, anxious to keep up a conversation. "Send the letter to my brother's address in India, and it will find me somehow. I should like to have seen you safely into your husband's keeping, but no doubt he could not possibly help upsetting the plans. You will like Hetherington. He will look after you well."The conductor came back, bringing the net, and proceeded to fix it over the seat, upon which a bed had been made up, and then went away again, leaving them alone, saying the train would start in five minutes."You have been very good to me," Lucia murmured tremblingly. "I do not know how to thank you.""It is you who have been good to me." Toby's face was serious now, as he looked down at her with grave, kindly eyes. "It is I who should thank you. I do, Lucia, and I shall always be glad I met you. You are very brave. It does a man good to meet a woman like you!""And yet I am so frightened!"--and she gave a little choking laugh."Only of the loneliness and the dark"--speaking tenderly. "In the things that matter you are dauntless. I can only hope everything will be easier and better than you expect." Tears shone on her lashes, and he took her hand, and held it firmly. "You're glad--I'm glad--I met you, anyhow"--with a little smile, trying to rally himself as well as her, for a lump was forming in his throat."Yes, I'm glad we met"A whistle sounded, and he knew he must go. "Good-bye, Lucia! God bless you!""Good-bye!"She looked up, and something in her eyes made him suddenly bend down and kiss her forehead."Probably we shall not meet again," he said huskily, "and perhaps I owe you more than I know."Once more the whistle blew, and he descended to the platform. There was a creaking and groaning


and the train began to move. As it drew, she leaned out of the window and waved her and smiled. "Good-bye!" she called, with a brave note, as the darkness seemed to swallow her up.Toby stood still with his hands in his pockets, and watched the red lamp of the guard's van creep away into the gloom, and for some minutes everything was blurred, and he felt a choking sensation. He was full of resentment with her husband not managing better, and full of admiration for her, and regret that they had had to part so soon and suddenly. But he did not yet know just the meeting was to mean to him. "Perhaps owe you more than I know," he had said, thinking of her resolute determination to try and "play the game"; but of the fateful, unsuspected meaning he knew nothing. He walked away from station conscious of a heavy weight in his heart, and wondered vaguely what he could do to pass long evening, as the ship did not leave until day-break. He shrank from going straight back the empty chairs and the empty deck, and yet he hated Beira, with its nearness to the scenes those memories he longed to break away from.In the end, however, he thought he would go the hotel for a little while in search of companionship, for the large, soft eyes that haunted him with their silent suffering now would only follow him more persistently on the ship. So he turned his steps to the town, and, entering the hotel, made straight for the smoke-room. Only one man was there--a lean, compact figure in khaki, standing at a table, glancing at a newspaper, turned sideways to the door.As Toby entered, he looked up casually, as if half expecting someone he knew. But the instant their eyes met, both men changed colour and became
suddenly taut."Good God! You!" exclaimed Toby, thrown off his guard."Fitzgerald!" muttered the other, and in the shock of the moment even Blake himself was taken aback.CHAPTER XXXII.
A LIGHT BREAKS.BLAKE was the first to recover himself, but something in Toby's eyes made him stand still with an abashed air, totally unlike his usual manner, and refrain from offering his hand."Where in the world have you sprung from?" he asked. "I thought you were at Cape Town?""I have been," said Toby shortly."And you're going back to Rhodesia now?" -- pretending not to see that his companion was literally glaring hatred at him."No "--coolly. "I'm on my way to India.""India!" echoed Blake in amazement."That is what I said. Why not? Have you any objection?" Toby's lips curled unpleasantly.Blake glanced round him and through the open doorway. Then he said in a low voice:"I'm awfully glad I met you, Fitzgerald. I--I want to have a talk with you very much. But not in here. It's a private matter."For a moment Toby looked as if he would sooner wring his neck than discuss anything with him whatever; but Blake's face now wore a grave, open expression, and Toby could not choose but see it."I think we can perfectly well say anything we have to say here," he asserted, still scowling blackly."No, we can't"--in a conciliatory tone. "It has to do with Miss Glynn." Toby winced visibly. "It is something I promised her I would tell you if I met you anywhere.""Why should she suppose you were likely to meet me anywhere?""I don't know that she did. She only asked me to promise to tell you, if it happened that I did meet you anywhere.""Well, you wouldn't have done to-night but for an entirely unlooked-for circumstance. My ship is at anchor, and we leave at daybreak. I only came ashore to help a lady traveller.""Then I should say she was your guardian angel"--grimly--"for what I have to tell you may change your plans altogether."Toby looked at him with an awakening gleam of interest, in spite of himself, but he only said gruffly: "I think not. Where do you wish to talk?""The sea-wall will be pleasant now, and little fear of listeners. Will you come?""I suppose so." And Toby suffered himself to ushered out of the hotel again into the night.Blake was glad that it was dark. The story he had to relate would prove anything but easy telling, and, but for his promise to Bobbie, he would merely have left it alone, and let Toby find things out for himself. But he had made the promise, and, deeply conscious of what Bobbie had done for him, he meant to keep it."Have you seen any Geegi news in the papers


since you took yourself off in such an uncalled-for hurry?" he asked, as they strolled along."No, I have not seen any papers. What news I want I hear from others who read them.""Did anyone tell you there had been an attempt on Sir James Fortescue's life, near his claim at Loka?""An attempt on Sir James Fortescue's life!" Toby repeated, with a note of incredulity, roused in spite of himself."Yes. I gather, from your surprise, you had heard anything?""No, nothing at all. But it failed? He wasn't hurt!""He would have been but for Miss Glynn."-- shortly. "She saved his life.""Bobbie saved his life!" Toby was staring hard in front of him now. What could have been happening up there since he left? What did it,all mean?Blake felt suddenly angry with him for flinging away as he had done, for no cause, and for being to go back openly and unashamed, and he abruptly: "Fortescue was not hurt at all. Miss Glynn was shot.""Shot!" Toby stood still in swift horror. "Bobbie shot!" he repeated. "Did you say she was shot? For God's sake, man, tell me you mean!""I mean what I say. The man who meant commit the murder was foiled by her splendid courage, and in his rage he fired at her and hit her.""Did he--did he--" Toby could get no further. "Go on," he finished hoarsely."Fortunately, she was not badly hurt. The shot went through her shoulder, and after that Fortescue protected her. She would not have been struck at all, but I was a second too late, and the damned villain with the gun knocked me senseless.""You--you were there?"In the darkness Blake set his teeth together with a resolute air. If lying would clear him now, he meant to be cleared."Yes, I had suspicions also, but I did not know as much as Miss Glynn. She overheard some remarks, and came to my house." He saw Toby stiffen suddenly and his face harden. "By the way, you seemed pretty angry with Miss Glynn for being
there, but why in the world shouldn't she come and see me if she wants to? As it happened, she had come simply and solely with the object of saving Fortescue's life.""Saving Fortescue's life!" Toby repeated the words in slow amazement, and then turned aside and leaned on the parapet of the wall, staring out to sea as if struck dumb.Blake waited to let him thoroughly grasp the sentence, then he added: "She called out to you as you left. I suppose she wanted to tell you. But you were in such a d--d hurry, you wouldn't listen."Suddenly Toby turned on him. "Your arm was round her. I saw it. Was that also to save Fortescue's life? You are pitching me a ridiculous yam. I don't believe a word of it."For answer, Blake took out his pocket-book, and, producing a pellet, held it out towards him. "That is one of the shots from her wound. If you want


any further evidence, go and see the grave where they 'planted' Van Tyl, and the grave of Fortescue's , boy Jim, who died saving the two of them and killing the murderer. What you say about my arm being round Miss Glynn is utter nonsense. She would not be likely to permit such a thing for a moment.""Good God!" Toby breathed. "And I was imagining you married to her!""That's the worst of those vivid imaginations" --with a little short laugh--"always running off the track! If you'd only stopped to make sure, instead of so upsetting poor Miss Glynn and probably making her much more ill--""More ill. Has she been ill?""Of course she has been ill. She ran or walked ten miles through the kopjes in the blazing heat, and sprained her arm, and then got shot for a finish.""Heavens, I must have been behaving like a d--d fool!" And Toby spoke in a breathless manner, as if he was still staggered by Blake's revelations."Of course you have. It wasn't very nice for her to lie there, supposing you were mortally offended about nothing, and getting no word from you. It. wouldn't be nice about any friend.""Why didn't she write, or--or anything?""How could anyone write? 'Fitzgerald, Cape Colony,' was hardly likely to find you." Toby looked round suddenly with a driven air. "I suppose I couldn't catch up that train?" he said.Blake laughed. "You might have done an hour earlier. But probably there will be a goods train to-morrow."Toby grew serious again. "Tell me about this


monstrous murder attempt,"he said, struggling to calm his racing pulses and speak composedly."It was a Dutchman named Van Tyl, who had sworn to revenge himself upon Fortescue for getting him convicted, about fifteen years ago, on various criminal charges in the Transvaal. By a curious circumstance, he inherited from a brother the claim on Loka kopje next to Fortescue's, and that brought him up here. Then he found out Fortescue owned the next claim--the one which practically damns his as useless--and was himself in the neighbourhood.He followed him to Shagann's kraal, and apparently made the niggers there very drunk, and bribed them into attempting to commit the murder. If Miss Glynn had not overheard a remark about it, and immediately grown suspicious, he would have carried it out all right, and everyone would have thought Shagann's natives had done it after a drinking bout. The Dutchman came down my way, and she followed him, and came into my house for lunch before she went to warn Sir James.""Why in the world didn't you ride after him?" Toby broke in."Because she did not tell me"--drily. "That part of the story she will probably relate to you best herself. She left my place in a hurry, and went after Fortescue herself, reaching his camp soon after dark, and shouted to warn him just as Van Tyl's bribed murderers were approaching. Van Tyl himself was close by, and, when he heard her shout, he knew his plot had been discovered. I suppose it made him desperate, for, when she came into the firelight, he raised his gun to shoot her. I had doubts of the man for another reason, and had gone after Fortescue


on horseback, but I was only in time to grapple with Van Tyl after he had raised his gun. The next minute he knocked me senseless.""What an extraordinary story!"--knitting brows in the darkness."Miss Glynn will tell you the rest of it better than I can. I suppose you will, at any rate, write to her before you leave for India. I think she was a good deal upset at your unaccountable disappearance.""I shall not go to India until I have seen her." And again Toby stared straight before him into the night. "I owe her an apology. I have behaved abominably to her. I cannot rest until I have her!" There was a short silence, and then he out: "Good heavens, Blake, you've given me the most glorious news I ever had in my life! I can't believe it yet. I feel dazed with it. An hour ago everything seemed over, and nothing of any consequence any more. Now the world is suddenly flooded with sunlight. And if I hadn't chanced to run into you here, I should have sailed at daybreak for India. It--it's wonderful! It simply takes breath away!"Blake said nothing, and presently Toby continued in a quieter
voice: "You see, I took it for pan. there was some understanding
between you"--pause--" and--and it hit me rather hard." He looked at Blake as if expecting him to speak, and in the darkness he could not see that his face unnaturally white and rigid.After a silence, Blake remarked in the most matter-of-fact tone he could command: "Of course, I admire Miss Glynn very much. I dare say she is the


kind of girl most men admire. But marriage is not in my line at all. I am a born rover, and always shall be. Far from settling down, even now I'm on the rove again. I have sold my farm.""Sold your farm!" Toby stood still in his amazement, and spoke as if he could not believe his own ears."Yes. I've suddenly broken out afresh with a taste for wandering." He gave a low, harsh laugh. "Fortescue offered me a high price, and I decided to close.""Fortescue?"--growing more amazed still."Yes. He's going to work the Loka claim, and wants a nice place in the neighbourhood to stop at.""Some amazing things seem to have happened since I left--" He hesitated. "I hope good luck has come the Glynns' way?""Bay Glynn is to manage the new mine, so I suppose it has. Fortescue is sure to pay well.""I'm glad--I'm thundering glad! Poor old Bay! He will be pleased. Anything else?""No, I don't think so. You'll hear the rest for yourself. I've a good mind to come back with you, only I want to get away to East Africa with a man I know coming up on the next boat.""I shall be thankful to get back," Toby answered simply. "There's something very attractive about that neighbourhood. I've been desperately home-sick since I left, when I let myself think about it. I shall have to hurry back to the ship now and get my things ashore somehow. I wonder if they'll allow me anything on the beastly passage? I booked to Bombay. By gad! when I came ashore, I little
thought I should only go back to fetch my things for


good. It seems to have been about one chance in a million that I saw you. I owe it to my fellow-traveller," and his eyes grew soft, thinking of all Lucia had unconsciously meant to him, and of how she now journeyed on through the darkness alone, while for him had come the breaking of a great light. With all his heart, he wished it might have come for her, too, and hoped earnestly that it yet would.Blake said very little as they paced back to the quay together. The interview had been easier than he anticipated, for Toby had asked none of the awkward questions he might have done.For the rest, it seemed the die was cast. He, Toby, would go back,
and Blake would remain away. Well, there was the wide world to roam in. He would roam and forget.CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE JOURNEY.To Toby's great joy, he found a goods train would be going as far as Umtali on the morrow, so he decided to journey by it that distance, and then trek across
country to Geegi, which would be quicker for him than going all the way round by Salisbury, and would possess the added advantage of a continual move, instead of considerable cause for exasperating waits. Now that the truth had been unexpectedly revealed to him, his whole soul was impatient to return with the least possible delay.To tell Bobbie of his infinite regret and sorrow, and hear that she forgave him, seemed the only aim his life contained at the moment. That she would
forgive him he did not doubt, but he longed to pour into her ears the tale of all his misery and hopelessness and unspeakable longing for her. And then he thought of the story Blake had related of her bravery, and his soul overflowed with love and admiration.Blake spent the next morning with him, as the train did not depart until mid-day, and Toby could not help thinking him changed, without quite knowing in what particular. Certainly it was a change for the better, though it consisted very largely in


reticence. All Toby's manœuvring could not get any details from him concerning Van Tyl's attempt upon Sir James Fortescue. It was the one subject he would not talk about, putting him off persistently with the assertion: "Miss Glynn tell you better than I can."Subsequently he went to the station to see him off, and laughingly presented Toby with a chair to sit on in the guard's van."You'll get jolly sick of sitting on just an that offers for this sort of a journey," he said. "Of course, you've brought some food?""I've got a loaf of bread, a tin of meat, and a bottle of whisky," Toby told him."Not much of a commissariat, but I dare say guard will share with you. It is going to be blazing hot. I don't envy you the trip.""I shall not have time to remember the heat It's so wonderful to be
going back at all. I hardly knew how I ached for everything before. I was afraid to think of it.""Well, let me know how you get on some day.""Right you are, and good luck to you in East Africa. Good-bye!" "Good-bye!"The whistle sounded, and once more a train moved slowly out of the station, and Toby waved his hand gaily to Blake, standing as still and thoughtful as he himself had done when his little Portuguese friend steamed away into the blackness ahead. Only now the train moved into broad, enveloping sunlight, under a rain-washed sky of intensest blue. Thus is it ever upon the journey of life. For one a wall of blackness, for another radiant sunshine, irrespective 

 
of persons, irrespective of merit or demerit. Yet it may be that,
viewed from the other side of the curtain--the side of the finished design--the blackness of this side adds a beauty and a lustre richer than the result of the sunshine space. It is well to keep in one's mind that distant goal of finished perfection, towards which all light and darkness, sunshine and shadow, are tending; then will it seem of less moment in this present whether our little individual share of work is in gay colours or in drab, so it, as well as may be, helps to complete the finished design.As Blake had surmised, the guard proved a good fellow, and was pleased to have Toby's company, gladly sharing with him what food he possessed, and the time sped pleasantly. After they left the swamps, the line wound through a luxuriant jungle, and Toby watched eagerly for signs of big game, being rewarded about sunset with the sight of a small troop of elephants apparently in quest of an evening drink. As he had surmised would be the case, he had not had time to remember either the heat or slowness of their speed. All his thoughts were centred upon Bobbie and upon the wonderful change in his life since he met Blake. The very fact of her message comforted him already with her forgiveness, and he let himself build ravishing castles of their future together. He wondered if she would care to live in Cape Town. He would deeply regret leaving Rhodesia himself, but he believed he could win for her a better home there, and in that case he would willingly go. He would ask his uncle to get him a billet, and work hard to become prosperous for her sake.But at the back of his mind was a slight hope that she would not wish it. He knew that he loved Rhodesia and the veldt life, and would be like a fish
out of water leading a conventional, everyday life in Cape Town. Perhaps Bobbie would feel the same. If so, he would bestir himself with might and main to make a home for her in Rhodesia, and he spent hours turning over in his mind how he might best succeed.Perhaps, if Ken and Bay won the disputed claim, he could get his father to find some capital and enable him to go into partnership with them. They were sure to want money from somewhere. Only he hated the mere idea of a mine--the endless worry and discomfort, and the horror of having to go underground. No, Bobbie would never want that. Somehow she would help him to think of a better plan.So they came finally to Umtali, and Toby alighted with a gay heart, and set off into the little town to buy a few necessaries for his trek across veldt. It was not a part of the country he knew, so he met no friends or acquaintances, and at the hotel his thoughts filled him with so much gladness he felt no inclination to trouble to talk to strangers, but rather chose to sit apart and look on and dream. There were some, however, who looked with interest at him. The new air he had acquired at Cape Town, which gave him that touch of the man of the world, became him equally well in Rhodesia. Before, some of the habitues of the hotel would probably have broken in upon his solitude, perceiving him to be, for the most part, a light-hearted boy. Now they respected his aloofness and silence, and asked among themselves


who he was. For, when he stood up, his six-foot-two and fine shoulders gave him a commanding air, and his handsome face was full of distinction. Thus no news of the country were handed on to him, and no friendly fellow-traveller told him the event of which they had all been talking for the last few weeks, namely, Sir James Fortescue's engagement. Toby bought his few necessaries and a satchel to pack
them in, and presently, with one native carrier, started away across country, feeling as if he could sing for very gladness every step of the way, to be
once more upon the veldt, heading for his precious store and his shady hut, and, as he truly believed, for the consummation of his life's dream.CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE DISPUTED CLAIM.IN the meantime there was gladness at the Glynns' hut home for all except she to whom the gladness was due. Bay and Ken were full of plans and hopes and Betty was quietly radiant because Dr. Stanhope was even now returning in safety from the sleeping sickness investigation expedition, and there was not the slightest doubt the Government, with Sir James to push his case, would find a good post for him. The only anxiety left was concerning the gold claim that had been disputed with them, and which they were very keen to win. They had worked too hard and lost too much capital to be content to hold only a managership, if they could help it, and their great wish was to have their own property in reserve, to work again when times were propitious.So, when the date drew near upon which the claim should be thrown open, to become the property of whoever pegged it first after sunrise, there was much planning and arranging in the huts. A sealed watch had been procured from Cape Town, giving the exact, Cape Town time; so, if the same idea had not occurred to their antagonist, they felt they were safe to win, for it gave them some minutes start of


him, the Cape Town time of sunrise being the one permitted.The evening before the arranged date they had a final consultation, making plans to be called at dawn and have some coffee before starting."But why not have it there?" said Betty. "It will taste so good if we have won.""Or why not both? " suggested Ken."Are you coming with us?" Bay asked her, in some surprise."Of course I am. I could not possibly sit still here and wait."Ken glanced at Bobbie, and there was a lurking anxiety in his eyes. She had said nothing about accompanying them, and it depressed him a little, for a short time back she would have been the first to insist upon coming. But many little things had changed in Bobbie lately, and he began to have anxious doubts about her. Like Sir James, he noticed that her laugh had lost its old ring, and that she no longer kept them all gay in spite of disappointments. True, the disappointments and worries had miraculously vanished; but, whereas that should have made her gayer, it seemed, on the contrary, that she was sadder.He spoke to Bay about it, and Bay believed it was only the thought of her approaching marriage making her serious. After that Ken kept his own counsel, but he began to be more puzzled than he had been before about Toby's sudden disappearance, and to feel more keenly how they missed him. He and Bobbie had always been special chums, and, under ordinary circumstances, he would far rather she were engaged to Toby; but, as things were, it


seemed doubtful if the gay young storekeeper would ever have been able to earn enough to keep her, even if he had not gone off in such mysterious haste."Are you coming, too?" he asked her, as she said nothing.She seemed to hesitate, and then answered: "I think I will stay behind to prepare an extra special breakfast to celebrate the occasion."It was arranged so, and an early move was made for bed, that they might rise the fresher."Oh, I hope they will win!" Betty breathed enthusiastically, glancing from the door of their hut out into the lovely starlit night. "It means so very much to them.""Not as much as it did," Bobbie suggested, sitting on the edge of her little bed and brushing out her long bright hair."Not in some ways, but in others. You know" --thoughtfully-- "I think they feel they owe the managership of the Loka mine entirely to you; but if they win this claim, and can work it presently, it will be off their own bat."Bobbie smiled a little wistfully. "I think they owe it to being just the dear, hard-working boys they are. Sir James would not have trusted his mine to them otherwise. He thinks the world of them both.""And this world, and the next, and all possible worlds of you!"--with an affectionate glance.Bobbie's eyes grew more wistful, hidden behind the veil of her hair. "We all seem to have great hopes in our lives now," she said, with an attempt at brightness, "and before there was chiefly economy


and worry. Yet how gay we used to be sometimes, and how happy, in spite of the drawbacks!""But it could not have lasted. I do not know what would have become of us without Sir James. You--you are not sorry about things, are you, Bobbie?"--and now Betty's voice was wistful."Oh, no!"--hastily. "I was only thinking we seemed so much less gay, considering our prospects were so much better.""We want Toby." And Betty again looked into the night. "He was really our gay spirit."Bobbie brushed her hair in silence, and this time the kindly veil hid glistening tear-drops.At dawn the next morning the trio set off to walk the two miles, leaving Bobbie still in bed. They were full of hope, and walked gaily on, arriving, as they expected, just ahead of their opponent. They could see him coming over the veldt, and, when he came within earshot, he shouted to them that they were too early, for no rim of the sun was visible. But its rays were, and, just as he hurried up, Ken and Bay drove in their pegs and claimed the property before his eyes. In great excitement, he commenced a vigorous protest, only to be confronted with the special watch, which proclaimed the hour of sunrise already passed at Cape Town.He owned himself beaten, but with an ill grace, which the others could well afford to overlook."I'm going to make some coffee--will you have some?" Betty asked, with a pleasant smile, and the scowl died a little from his face. In the end, he relaxed sufficiently to ask them to consider a partnership; but the brothers were not disposed to bind themselves to any proposition yet, and declined his


overtures. But at the same time it made them glad. I for they knew he was an expert on gold-mining matters, and guessed he had great faith in the probable value of the reef. Later on they returned gaily to Bobbie, hailing each other as future millionaires with something of their old hilarity."We must have a little dinner to celebrate ours win," Bay suggested. "I think I had better go to Geegi and register the claim, and bring back a bottle
of champagne.""Why put off the celebration so long?" asked Betty. "Let us manufacture something special, to-night."Ken glanced at Bobbie, asking: "What do you, think, Bobs?""Let us wait. Bay can get back on Monday. Why not make our dinner Tuesday, and ask police and Mr. Hulatt?"In the end it was agreed to wait until Tuesday, and in great spirits Bay made ready for his journey."If only Toby were here," he said, while he ran over the list of what he would bring back, "how he would have loved it! What a row he would have made!The remark caused a momentary shadow, but Betty laughed it aside, and presently Bay started off. Only Bobby felt the force of the absence still, realising their celebration dinner was practically; foredoomed to failure because of one vacant seat.She little imagined that even now he was hastening towards them, cutting recklessly across country with all the mad, impatient ardour of the most devoted of lovers!Indeed, his recklessness had proved a hindrance more than once, by getting him and his boy into


difficulties of marsh and kopjes and impassable rivers, but he was at last beginning to listen to a little reason, and be guided by his carrier, who knew the route, if he were but allowed to lead, and was getting along faster in consequence.About two days after he started the native told him a white man was camped near a certain small kopje beside a river."He has an ambulance cart and twelve mules," the boy told him, "and he is a big baas, to do with the Government."Toby had no special wish to see any "big baas," to do with the Government or otherwise; but he had brought very little food, and was beginning to feel rather hungry, so he finally decided to go out of his way to call upon this favoured individual with his mules and ambulance, in the hope of getting a good meal. So he washed his hands and face in the river, and had a shave by way of a toilet, and struck across the piece of veldt to where the top of the cart was visible above the bush.As he came in sight, he descried a tall man just about to sit down to a small camp-table for a late breakfast, and hastened his steps with a sense of pleasurable anticipation. As he drew nearer, something struck him as familiar in the figure of the traveller, and he walked up wondering a little who he was. A minute later, hearing the sound of a booted step, the traveller turned round, and Toby found himself face to face with Sir James Fortescue.For one moment there was a puzzled expression on Sir James's face, and then he said:" Surely you are Fitzgerald?""The same," answered Toby gaily, "and you are


Sir James Fortescue. What luck to meet you! I'm trekking across to the Glynns' place, and I'm as hungry as a navvy. Couldn't carry much imparshli, you see, as I'm in rather a hurry.""I'm delighted to see you! "--with a frank smile. "Come and have a good square meal. I thought you had shipped off to India or somewhere in that direction. Did you change your mind? What a thing it must be, to be able to rearrange one's plans so easily as you seem able to do!""I should have been steaming ahead there now, but for an extraordinary coincidence at Beira. I met Blake--you know, the chap who called at the Giynns' the evening you were there--and he told me something that changed my whole life.""Really?" And Sir James felt suddenly interested for no ordinary reason, though he could not have explained why. "Well, come and have breakfast first, and then we can tell each other all the latest news.""Rather!" was Toby's ready reply, as he proceeded to make a seat for himself out of a packing-case stood up on end, while he viewed the well-spread table with undisguised relish.CHAPTER XXXV.
TOBY TELLS HIS STORY.Just at first, after arriving at Sir James's camp, Toby was too hungry to discuss very much beyond the large dish of fried eggs and bacon, and the delight of fresh bread, in a practical manner, and Sir James watched him with a quiet smile, urging
upon him as much as he could possibly eat."I'm down this way on some legislative business," he told him, "and as I wanted to visit outlying farms and settlers, I decided to drive. It's much pleasanter than the train.""I should think so. I hate the beastly train! That's partly why I'm 'foot-slogging.' Couldn't stand the hanging about in Umtali and Salisbury. I--I wanted to feel I was moving nearer all the time, and, even if I go slow, I am at least Doing that.""Then you are hurrying back as energetically as you seemed to hurry away?"--with a little smile."Yes. That was a fool's trick. I misunderstood something, and was asinine enough not to wait for an explanation. I heard it by chance from Blake, of all people in the world."Sir James gave him a keen glance. "A good deal has happened since you left. I suppose Blake told you.""Yes. By gad, I was quite forgetting! Some rotten low Dutchman tried to murder you. I ought to have told you at once how awfully glad I am that nothing serious resulted--at least, nothing serious to you"--with a little half smile--"but I'm my first thoughts were on the breakfast. It's not too late now, I hope. I don't know what we should have done without you up here. You are the best friend the settlers ever had.""I am glad to hear you say that. I owe my escape to Miss Glynn. I dare say Blake told you?""Yes. Splendid, wasn't it? I--I'm just feverish to see her! I--oh, Heavens, I can't keep it myself-I just worship her"-and all Toby's was in his words. Sir James seemed suddenly to turn a little pale under his sunburn, as he darted a quick, questioning glance at him. Toby was too immersed in his own thoughts, and did not see it. "It was because of her I ran away. There was a misunderstanding. May I tell you? I'm longing to speak of it. I can think of nothing else and day."Sir James rose suddenly from the table and a little behind him. "Go on," he said, and Toby noticed nothing of the sudden change in his voice."It had to do with your rescue," Toby told him eagerly, as if sure of his immediate interested sympathy. "It seems it was because of that she went to Blake's alone that day. Of course, I didn't know anything, and when I saw her there--""You saw her at Blake's the day of Van Tyl's attempt?"--in low, amazed tones."Yes. I haven't quite got the hang of the story yet, but it doesn't seem to matter now. The point is


that Bobbie and I were engaged between ourselves." The man behind his chair turned paler now, and looked down at him with a startled expression. "We couldn't very well be openly engaged because --well, you see, I was only earning about five pounds a month at the moment." His eyes twinkled. "But it was much the same thing"--running on. "I've always felt doubtful about Blake, and disliked him pretty warmly, and I thought he was hanging about Bobbie too much, so I asked her to choke him off thoroughly. I didn't really doubt her, of course, but I so hated to see him hanging round under the circumstances. She gave me her promise readily, and I thought no more about it; but the very next day--I think it was the next day--I had to go to his place to borrow a bicycle pump, and there she was sitting on the lounge with him, after having lunch there."Sir James went a few paces off, and then came back."I--I don't understand why she went to Blake's that day. I thought--" He stopped short."I'm not very clear myself"-running on in the same heedless manner--"but I know it had to do with the attempt upon you. I believe she followed the Dutchman to a spot near to watch his movements, and then went on to pump Blake. Of course, if I hadn't been in such a mad hurry, she would have explained; but the sight of her sitting there with Blake, after-after her promise, seemed to numb my brain. I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything except run away to the ends of the earth.
I worshipped her then, you see. Nothing could be anything any more without her, or so it seemed,

 
and I just flung away. Now I only want to see her. I cannot rest until I've confessed myself an utter fool and wretch, and implored her to forgive me!""And you are confident she will?""Yes, quite!"--with a frankness that was utterly disarming. "Bobbie has the most generous soul on earth.""And, having forgiven, what then? Perhaps she has changed to you.""No, I think not"--with a grave air, utterly free of conceit. "Bobbie is not the sort to change. It was as if some dreadful black cloud was between us, and we could not find each other; but now--" He brightened suddenly. "I could get a good billet at Cape Town to-morrow, if she cared to go there. But I don't think she will; she hates towns. What we both long for is a farm. If I can get hold of one cheaply, I think my guv'nor will lend me A enough capital to work it. He was chary before because--well, because I wasn't married, and he thought me a rolling stone. But if--" He paused, and for a moment had almost a shy expression."But even if Miss Glynn forgives you, she may no longer wish to marry you," Sir James suggested."Well, in that case, I will finish my journey to India, and leave Rhodesia for ever. But somehow I am not afraid. She will understand when I explain.""A good deal has changed since you left"-- meaningly."So I suppose. Fancy Blake selling his farm, and you buying it! I was surprised. And he told me Ken and Bay were to manage your new mine. That is splendid news. They are such good chaps,and it will make them thundering glad!""Is that all Blake told you?" There was a grey look about Sir James now, as he stood a little apart in the shadow. He seemed almost to have aged in the last half hour. Explanations were forcing themselves upon him also, and revelations undermining all the happiness of the past weeks. He felt momentarily stunned with all that this chance meeting might mean to him."Yes, I think that is all. He was extraordinarily reticent about the murder attempt. I couldn't quite make out his part. It seems so odd Bobbie did not tell him what she had overheard, and send him after you, instead of going herself.""Very odd"--drily. Sir James began to find a clue. "No doubt she had a good reason, but she also is very reticent about that part. Of course, Blake did not like me. He had a personal grudge also." He watched Toby, and saw that the idea in
his own mind was forming in his. "Miss Glynn may have discovered that, and been doubtful of him as a messenger.""I see"--thoughtfully. "And, of course, his record--""Exactly. If Blake had anything to gain, he was never one to trouble much with qualms.""You surely don't think--""I don't think, because it appears to be Miss Glynn's wish that I should not. For a reason best known to herself, she has given no evidence against Blake. That is enough for me. But we thought the neighbourhood would be pleasanter without him, and, rather curiously, he has proved quite willing to concur. I made him an offer for his farm, and he has accepted it.""He adored that farm," commented Toby."I believe so. There must have been pressure--you understand?"Toby signified his assent, and relapsed into a short silence, overcome by all that was implied"Did Bobbie shield him, do you think?" he asked at last."I am certain of it, and I think she was right. He will probably be a better man all his life. No doubt he was a bit driven by Van Tyl, who the most unscrupulous villain unhung. But, of course, it was better he should leave the neighbourhood, so I gave him the chance.""It's a grand farm," said Toby, with an unconscious note of longing.Sir James seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he cleared his throat and remarked, trying to speak naturally: "I am greatly hoping Miss Glynn will honour me by accepting it for very own, as-as a small token of my gratitude and regard.""You are going to give it to Bobbie?"--in eyed astonishment."If she will accept it. It was for her I acquired it."Toby was struck dumb. He felt suddenly in grip of something vague that was a little overwhelming.Sir James gave a forced laugh. He to long to be alone. An upheaval had rut
torn the very ground from under his feet. He hardly knew where he stood. He was conscious of but one certainty--he must let Toby go on ignorance. To tell him the truth might be to turn


him back once more towards India, and, in doing that, he might rob Bobbie of her birthright of happiness. What was unhappiness for him, compared with all he owed to her? It was she who must decide the future, and she must see Toby before deciding."You rather take my breath away," Toby said at last. "It is such a magnificent gift. I hardly think she will like to accept it.""Well, you must try and persuade her to." Sir James braced himself up for a last effort. "Tell her, with my love, that I rely on her to give me the pleasure of making the gift, and not to let anything whatever persuade her otherwise. You will be wanting to hurry on now; but you can hardly get there before to-morrow, so you must let me reload your carrier with a few tins of food stuff." He turned away to give an order. "It was an amazing coincidence that you should run into Blake at Beira, but I think it is a still more amazing one that you should have chanced across me out here on the veldt. They say real life is stranger than fiction. I suppose it is. There have been some strange happenings for some of us in the last few weeks, and some rather bitter awakenings. But if Bobbie Glynn gets her full measure of happiness in the end, I for one will grudge nothing that gave it to her." He saw a perplexed, questioning expression in Toby's face, and hastened to add: "But I must send her my congratulations later. You will be in a hurry to be off. You can quite well take the lower path; none of the swamps or rivers are much affected by the rains yet."Toby was only too glad to hasten on his journey,


and, without stopping to probe or question further, said good-bye, expressed his warm thanks, and strode gaily away over the sun-bathed veldt. Only for Sir James were there shadows now--shadows and clouds of an approaching darkness.CHAPTER XXXVI.
"I CANNOT LET YOU GO!"IT was the Tuesday fixed for the celebration dinner when Toby arrived at his journey's end, and saw he welcome sight of the Glynns' huts ahead of him.Betty and Bobbie had been busy cooking in the morning, but, just as they were finishing, a note came through from the police camp to say neither of the men stationed there would be able to come, after all, as an urgent message had summoned them in the opposite direction."Well, how absurd to have a dinner just for Hulatt!" cried Betty. "Isn't it vexing after our preparations?"Bobbie laughed and rubbed the pastry from her fingers. "Poor Hulatt will be quite nervous to find himself the only guest. I wonder what has prevented them? Does the note say?""A message from headquarters to go at once to Menti, about a raid of some sort. Of course, they couldn't very well put it off.""Poor dears I They'll miss their good dinner.""What shall we do?" And Betty wore a rueful air. "Shouldn't we put Hulatt off for the present? It is bound to fall very flat with only him.""Horribly. I vote for putting off.""Let's do it on our own. This messenger can leave a note on the way back to the police camp. We'll just tell him it is postponed because the police cannot come.""Very well." And Bobbie's face expressed instant relief in spite of herself. She had tried to throw herself into the plan willingly, but it had been an effort from the first, and she had secretly dreaded the evening, when she would have to seem gay glad whatever she felt, And in her heart she knew she must inevitably miss Toby more than on any ordinary occasion. It would be the first rejoicing they had ever had without him, and the fact would be present to all, however they strove to forget it."We'll just enjoy the good things without fuss," she said, "and the fruit salad can go now. They are such a fag to make."Betty went off to scribble the note, and, when she came back, her sister was already handing various cooking accessories to the cook-boy to take away, preparatory to moving the table back into the kitchen, and the last traces of their busy morning."I believe you are quite glad," said Betty reproachfully."Well, it mightn't have been a success with few of us, and that would have been most trying.""Without Toby, I suppose you mean," Betty remarked thoughtfully, and Bobbie found herself colouring suddenly before her sister's eyes."If you like," she said carelessly. "He was always the life of these sorts of gatherings, wasn't he?""He and you together. Yes, perhaps it would 


have been a failure. But I'm afraid the boys will be disappointed."But when the boys came in to lunch, they did not express any great regret, merely saying: "Well, we'll drink the champagne, anyhow. Good luck like ours ought to be christened."After lunch the girls rested a little, and then, possessed with a restlessness she could not entirely understand, Bobbie decided to go for a walk. Betty said she was too tired, and, not sorry for the solitude, Bobbie went off alone through a little wood which led to an open space commanding a lovely view of the country.Here she sat down and gazed with an expression of growing sadness upon the far blue kopjes. She did not try to analyse her thoughts. Of what use to do that now? Toby had gone out of her life for ever, and she would soon be married to Sir James, It seemed that life simply asked her to go straight on, without overmuch probing, doing her best in the path mapped out. And yet--Sometimes she was a little afraid lest it should prove beyond her powers to forget Toby as she ought. She knew she would owe it to Sir James to root him out of her mind, except as an old friend of the past, and never let him shake her serenity in the present. But would she be able? Would she ever forget all they had been to each other in the sunny days that had gone? Well, she could but try, and with all her strength she would do that, because of Sir James's goodness.But the sadness deepened in her eyes, for there were times when the future frightened her vaguely, and she was afraid she might not be equal to the

 
demands it made upon her. Thus it was that Toby his heart bursting
with joy at all the old familiar landmarks about him, came upon her
totally unawares, and stood a moment watching her for the delight of
it. He saw that she was thinner and paler than when he had last seen
her, and perceived that her eyes were wistful; but it sounded no
warning to his rejoicing heart. Had he not come back to clear up all
the misunderstanding, and win her forgiveness, and make her glad
again? His heart beat fast as he approached and stood beside her unperceived."Bobbie!" he said at last, in a voice full of a wordless plea and unutterable tenderness.She gave a violent start, and, turning, gazed into his face with a blank expression, as if she did not believe her eyes.He smiled and came a step nearer. "I've come back, Bobbie. It's been just hell without you!. I know you'll try to forgive me. If you'll let me, I'll worship you all my life!" It was as though a veil dropped suddenly from her eyes, and she saw that it was indeed he. Joy came swiftly to her face and lit it with unspeakable gladness. She rose to her feet and held out her hands to him, forgetting everything in heaven and earth, but that he indeed stood there before her."Toby--oh, Toby!" she breathed, with a note of passionate joy, and the next moment he had half smothered her in his arms.It was some minutes later, and after Toby had hastily told her of his meeting with Blake and Sir 


James, that the present, knocking vainly at her heart, made itself heard at last, and blanched her cheeks to a swift pallor and dimmed her eyes to swift dread. Toby saw it, and the swift dread communicated itself."What is the matter?" he cried. "Oh, Bobbie, is anything the matter?""The matter!" she repeated dully. "Oh, how could I have forgotten even for a moment? No, no" --as he tried to take her in his arms again--"you must not do that any more--never any more at all! Oh, how could I let you! How could I forget!" And her face grew whiter and whiter."What is it, Bobbie? Tell me, dear--I can't bear this suspense.""Didn't Sir James tell you?" For she was just grasping the fact that the two had met the previous day."He did not tell me anything that need make any difference between you and me.""Not make any difference between you and me?" she echoed, and she could almost have laughed."Oh, Toby, Toby, I thought you had gone away for ever, and I have promised to marry Sir James!"He drew away from her as if he had received a shock. "You promised to marry Sir James Fortescue?" he repeated slowly, as if he could not believe his own ears."Yes." She was calmer now. The present was obliterating all else.Toby suddenly sat down on the fallen tree where she had been seated, and buried his face in his hands with a groan."Why didn't someone tell me?" he exclaimed at last, half fiercely. "Why didn't Blake? didn't Sir James? They might have let me go in the misery I had, instead of coming back to have it intensified a hundred times.""I expect Mr. Blake did not know," she answered in a voice she
hardly recognised as her own, "and Sir James would not.""But I cannot let you go, Bobbie" He was on his feet again now, towering above her, his whole being expressing fierce resolve. "You belong to me! You belonged to me before you ever set eyes on him! It isn't likely he can take you from me. It isn't likely I can let you go."But she only stood very still, as upright as he, with her eyes looking far away to some distant horizon."I have promised," was all she said, unable to look into his face."But you promised under a misunderstanding!" he cried. "Sir James will be the first to see it I can't let you go, Bobbie!" And he crushed her hands in his, until she could have cried out with the, pain, had it not been sweet to her,Then a new phase seemed to strike him. "But if you marry him, you will be Lady Fortescue, and rich, and successful, and--and--" A hunted look came into his eyes. "Of course, I can't expect you to give up all that. Why did I come back? Oh, why did I come back? The other was bad enough, but this is worse. To see you again, and dream as I have dreamt ever since I met Blake, and then to lose you! Could the gods desire a crueller torture?" He walked away


from her a few paces, and stood gazing blankly ahead, his face grey with the swift downfall of all his hopes and dreams.Bobbie stood silently watching him. What could she do? What could she say?At last he turned. "I must go away again; can't stay on here. Of course, I couldn't come between you and such a future, even if--even if--""Even if what?"--bravely."Even if you still cared," he muttered."You need not put it like that. Of course I care. I tried to be angry with you, and that helped me to make the decision; but it could not last. If we must part, Toby--and I see no other way-- at least you may know that I did not change--in --in spite of all.""God bless you I" he murmured brokenly "I deserve a good deal, but not quite this--surely, not quite this--to lose you for ever!""I think we must go back now. Will you come just for this evening? If we must part, let it be to-morrow. I suppose we can bear it! Others have parted before, but, oh, Toby, Toby I" A sob drowned her voice, and she turned away.He set his teeth together fiercely."Come along," he said. "I will see the others. They need not know much. Don't cry, Bobbie.I feel it will drive me mad! I must think. Perhaps there is a way. I wonder why Fortescue did not tell me himself?""Yes, I wonder about that. Did you say anything about yourself and me?""I told him the whole story.""The whole story! You told him why you had run away, and all about everything?""Everything."Bobbie was silent. A light began to dawn. If Sir James knew of their previous secret engagement, it might change the aspect of things."How strange you should have told him all that!""I was bursting with it. How could I help telling him? It never entered my head that he--that he would have a personal interest.""Perhaps it will make things a little easier," she said thoughtfully. "I feel so dazed I hardly know what one ought to do or say."When they reached the huts, there was a great rejoicing over his return, and no one said much about the change in him nor Bobbie's engagement.They told him of their good luck, and talked fast of all that had happened since he left, each conscious vaguely of some crisis in the air, each afraid to face it.He told them the chance meeting with Blake had caused him to delay his departure and run up to say good-bye in person, but that he should still go on to India, and probably stay with his brother. He invented an excuse about a good billet waiting for him there, and no one questioned it. But they saw that he was aged and grey, and very different to the gay youth who had left them, and the evening ended with a sense of shadow and depression upon all. CHAPTER XXXVII.
SIR JAMES'S LETTER.IT was twenty-four hours after Toby that the messenger came from Sir James. From time to time Bobbie's glance had turned half-unconsciously in the direction from which one must come, if sent; and yet she told herself he was not likely to send on purpose, and she would not hear before the mail could bring a letter, sent for, as usual, forty miles to Geegi.All night she had lain awake staring at the stars, bracing herself with every power she could muster for the final parting with Toby. The morning found her weary-eyed and exhausted, but still unshaken, and she went about her occupations with a quiet air of determination, and successfully blinded Betty to the struggle in her heart. Toby himself went away to his store early, saying he would come back later on; and though Ken offered to go with him, and evidently wished it, he contrived to put him off.In the afternoon Bobbie went again to the fallen tree where he had found her the previous day, guessing he would come that way in search of her. And it was there the messenger found her. Sir James had sent a native courier all the long distance
on purpose."Dear Little Woman,"--he wrote--"Ever since Fitzgerald left me, I have been thinking and and now I begin to understand several things have puzzled me before. I begin to understand for instance, why, with all my efforts, I could not bring back into your laughter the ring that it had when I first met you, nor a light that was truly joy into your eyes, but only a counterfeit of both. At first I told myself you had not yet recovered from the exhausting effects of the tragic night, but very soon they would pass off, and you would your old radiant self again. When they did not pass off, I began to be anxious, but I persuaded myself it was only the serious mood in which you had taken your engagement, and presently would pass off, too, as you grew accustomed to the new order. Always I was a coward at heart-- afraid to face the possibility that something lay behind that I did not know of. Yesterday morning Fitzgerald enlightened me, all unconscious of what last hope he was taking from my mind. I think you would understand why I, on my part, did not enlighten him. I was afraid that, in the swift dismay at the unexpected situation, he would be foolish enough to turn back without seeing you."Well, I have had a long struggle with myself since he left, but it is over now, and I can give you back to him without any feeling except bitter regret that I did not win you before he did. When I asked you to marry me, I was not thinking only of my own happiness. I hoped and believed it Would be for your happiness also. It was your happiness that, I trust, was nearest to my heart. And now that I see I cannot make you happy in the way


Fitzgerald can, I see also that, if I love you truly, I can only give you up to him and make the path as easy for you as possible. I do not know quite what will be the best explanation to make public yet, but I will do everything I possibly can to spare you and cast no shadow upon your new-found joy. I think I shall take a trip to the Old Country myself.It is some time since I went, and I feel I shall be all the better for a change."But in the meantime there is one thing I do ask of you most particularly. It is that you will at least let me have the joy of going away knowing that you are happy, and, in any way I possibly can, contributing to your happiness. As you know, I have bought Blake's farm on purpose to give it to you. It is, indeed, yours already, for I gave it to you when you were staying with me in Lobenwayo. Do not give me back my gift. Be generous enough to take it, because of the pleasure it will give to me. I owe you my life, and that is a debt I can never hope to pay. Any gift I can offer you is a mere nothing compared to what you have given to me. My heart is set on this very much. Do not deny me, if you can help it. The thought of it will be a gladness to me all my life. And presently, if you will have me, I shall come and see you and Fitzgerald when I visit the mine, and find a further happiness, I trust, in hearing you laugh once more with the old ring, as when I first arrived, unannounced at the huts. I gathered from Fitzgerald he would find no difficulty in getting capital to work a farm; but should he find he had made any mistake, it will be yet another pleasure to me to lend him whatever sum he needs."For the rest, I hope all other arrangements may remain unchanged. I have such a high opinion Of your brothers, it would be a blow to me to lose their services. I shall be glad to hear from you of whatever plans you make. The formalities for the sale of Blake's farm will quickly be finished, and you can take possession at once. Would it not be wisest to do this quickly? Life is short, and I see no reason why you and Fitzgerald should lose any of the hours you may so easily have together."I have written you a long letter, and perhaps I have not expressed myself very well. All that it really means is the simple fact that I love you with all my heart, and care more for your happiness than for anything else in the world, and therefore I set you free quickly, and ask only that you will still let me serve you from afar, in whatever way may be."God bless you! I thank Him that Fitzgerald is such a good fellow. May all possible happiness bless your lives together."I am, and always shall be, your debtor,"James Hall Fortescue."When Toby at last came to the spot where Bobbie awaited him, he found her crying quietly. Thinking it was because they must part, he swallowed a lump in his throat, and sought to rally her with a hope that things might yet right themselves. For answer, she placed the letter in his hand and walked away a little distance while he read it. When, later, his step sounded behind her, she did not turn round, and he slipped his arm through hers, unable for the moment to speak."It's splendid of him," he said at last, in a low, husky voice.Bobbie dabbed her eyes and did not answer."You--you are quite sure you would choose to give him up?" he asked hesitatingly."I only love you!" she whispered. "No one could ever come before you!"He took her in his arms and kissed her with a new reverence.After a little, he said sadly: "I feel I've been such a wretched fool over it all. But for my absurd haste, the tangle would never have happened, and Sir James need not have been hurt at all. I don't see how I can accept anything from him now.""I think we had better talk it over with Ken and Bay and Betty," she suggested. "I hardly know what we ought to do myself, but I think we mustn't hurt him any more than we can help."So, slowly and thoughtfully, they went back to the huts.Blake was once more established--this time in East Africa--when he heard in a letter from a police trooper that Toby and Bobbie were married and were living at his old farm, and that Toby had turned out a great worker and was making a success of it."I wonder if Fortescue had that arrangement in his mind all along?" was his immediate thought.A little further he read: "The Loka mine is progressing splendidly, and the mine that was disputed with the Glynns, and which they won, is shortly to be worked. Sir James Fortescue is down


this way pretty often, and, when he comes, he stays with the Fitzgeralds.""They all seem to have arranged things pretty satisfactorily," was his somewhat grim comment; "but Van Tyl and I lost everything, which"--with an equally grim humour--"was unusually just."THE END. LONDON: WARD, LOCK & Co., LIMITED