"Why, the devil! They said it was theirs, and of course it was," said
Peter.

"And the people of the land: did England give you the people also?"

Peter looked a little doubtfully at the stranger. "Yes, of course, she
gave us the people; what use would the land have been to us otherwise?"

"And who gave her the people, the living flesh and blood, that she might
give them away, into the hands of others?" asked the stranger, raising
himself.

Peter looked at him and was half afeared. "Well, what could she do with a
lot of miserable niggers, if she didn't give them to us? A lot of good-
for-nothing rebels they are, too," said Peter.

"What is a rebel?" asked the stranger.

"My Gawd!" said Peter, "you must have lived out of the world if you don't
know what a rebel is! A rebel is a man who fights against his king and his
country. These bloody niggers here are rebels because they are fighting
against us. They don't want the Chartered Company to have them. But
they'll have to. We'll teach them a lesson," said Peter Halket, the
pugilistic spirit rising, firmly reseating himself on the South African
earth, which two years before he had never heard of, and eighteen months
before he had never seen, as if it had been his mother earth, and the land
in which he first saw light.

The stranger watched the fire; then he said musingly, "I have seen a land
far from here. In that land are men of two kinds who live side by side.