after breakfast on the following morning, "and a bad one. Not but what
you were right to stand up for the Hottentot. I would have done as much
myself had I been there and ten years younger, but Frank Muller is not
the man to forget being put upon his back before a lot of Kafirs and
white folk too. Perhaps that Jantje is sober by now. I will go and
call him, and we will hear what this story is about his father and his
mother."

Presently he returned followed by the ragged, dirty-faced little
Hottentot, who, looking very miserable and ashamed of himself, took off
his hat and squatted down on the drive, in the full glare of the African
sun, to the effects of which he appeared to be totally impervious.

"Now, Jantje, listen to me," said the old man. "Yesterday you got drunk
again. Well, I'm not going to talk about that now, except to say that if
I hear of your being drunk once more--you leave this place."

"Yes, Baas," said the Hottentot meekly. "I was drunk, though not very; I
only had half a bottle of Cape smoke."

"By getting drunk you made a quarrel with Baas Muller, so that blows
passed between Baas Muller and the Baas here on your account, which was
more than you are worth. Now when Baas Muller had struck you, you said
that he had shot your father and your mother. Was that a lie, or what
did you mean by saying it?"

"It was no lie, Baas," answered the Hottentot excitedly. "I have said
it once, and I will say it again. Listen, Baas, and I will tell you the
story. When I was young--so tall"--and he held his hand high enough
to indicate a Tottie of about fourteen years of age--"we, that is,