THE SHADOW OF THE ENGLISHMEN

Now I will pass on to the time when Ralph was nineteen or thereabouts,
and save for the lack of hair upon his face, a man grown, since in our
climate young people ripen quickly in body if not in mind. I tell
of that year with shame and sorrow, for it was then that Jan and I
committed a great sin, for which afterwards we were punished heavily
enough.

At the beginning of winter Jan trekked to the nearest dorp, some fifty
miles away, with a waggon load of mealies and of buckskins which he and
Ralph had shot, purposing to sell them and to attend the Nachtmahl, or
Feast of the Lord's Supper. I was somewhat ailing just then and did not
accompany him, nor did Suzanne, who stayed to nurse me, or Ralph, who
was left to look after us both.

Fourteen days later Jan returned, and from his face I saw at once that
something had gone wrong.

"What is it, husband?" I asked. "Did not the mealies sell well?"

"Yes, yes, they sold well," he answered, "for that fool of an English
storekeeper bought them and the hides together for more than their
value."

"Are the Kaffirs going to rise again, then?"

"No, they are quiet for the present, though the accursed missionaries of
the London Society are doing their best to stir them up," and he made a