in particular wanted her married
here, among the people she knows, and who know her, rather than in
Durban or some other strange place?"

"Yes, you did find her here, didn't you? Well, now, Mr Denham, you've
no business here yourself this morning--until you come back in state.
So go away now till then."

"No fear," said a jovial voice in the doorway. "Mr Denham's
coming round to have a glass with myself and some of his old
fellow-campaigners, round the corner."

"Look here, Mr Shelford, remember the serious business sticking out,"
said Denham merrily.

"And as for the campaigners, all the campaigning I seem to have done was
to slink away and hide."

"Yes, of course. But they've a different tale to tell. But if you
don't want to come you'll better do the same now, because these chaps
will get you there by force."

"Oh well, I can't afford to offer resistance to the police, so here
goes."

The bar was crowded, mostly with police. Denham's arrival was hailed
with a shout of acclamation, and he and his bride were duly toasted with
a good-fellowship which, if a bit noisy, was still genuinely sincere.
These fine fellows were all due to start for the seat of hostilities
again that evening, but, if some of them were a bit "wobbly" now, they
would be all right, and fit, and hard as ever, when the time came, never
fear.

From that lively scene to the quiet of the hospital was a strange
contrast. Denham slipped away opportunely and soon, for he had a visit
to make.

"How's Stride to-day, doctor?" meeting the District surgeon at the
entrance.

"Going on slowly, but well. Don't excite him, will you?"

"No; I think he'd like to say good-bye. What do you think?"

"As long as he doesn't get excited," was the rather dubious answer.
"Come along."

The hospital at Ezulwini was rather full just then with victims of the
rebellion, still in full swing, and the nurses were busy morning, noon
and night. Everything about the place was so bright and cheerful that
the casual visitor almost wanted to be an inmate for a time. Even the
operating-room looked inviting, and more suggestive of cool drinks than
of bloodshed. Not here was it, however, that they were to find Harry
Stride.

"Well, Stride, old chap, how are you getting on?" said Denham, taking
the sick man's listless hand.

"Oh, I don't know; they say I'll pull through, but I'm taking a darn
long time about it. And I wanted to go and pump some more lead int