Kaffir had gone. I remember him well now. He was a fine young man, and
it comes into my mind that when I said good-bye to him above those old
ruins, I wished that I had a son like that. And to think that he went
so near to becoming a son to me! Well, the grass must bend when the wind
blows, as the natives say."

"I am glad that you knew him," she answered simply.

Then they began talking about other matters. He told her that all the
story had become known, and that people spoke of Robert Seymour as "the
hero"; also that there was a great deal of curiosity about her.

"Then let us get away as soon as we can," she said nervously. "But,
Father, where are we going?"

"That will be for you to decide, love. Listen, now; this is my position.
I have been quite steady for years, and worked hard, with the result
that I and my partner have a fine farm in the Transvaal, on the high
land near Lake Chrissie, out Wakkerstroom way. We breed horses there,
and have done very well with them. I have £1,500 saved, and the farm
brings us in quite £600 a year beyond the expenses. But it is a lonely
place, with only a few Boers about, although they are good fellows
enough. You might not care to live there with no company."

"I don't think that I should mind," she answered, smiling.

"Not now, but by-and-by you would when you know what it is like. Now I
might sell my share in the farm to my partner, who, I think, would buy
it, or I might trust to him to send me a part of the profits, which
perhaps he would not. Then, if you wish it, we could live in or near