ing how you were getting on with the Makalanga," answered
Benita, fibbing boldly, "and whether you would persuade them to face the
ghosts. Did you?"

"Not I," he answered with a scowl. "Those ghosts are our worst enemies
in this place; the cowards swore that they would rather die. I should
have liked to take some of them at their word and make ghosts of
them; but I remembered the situation and didn't. Don't be afraid, Miss
Clifford, I never even lost my temper, outwardly at any rate. Well,
there it is; if they won't help us, we must work the harder. I've got a
new plan, and we'll begin on it to-morrow."

"Not to-morrow, Mr. Meyer," replied Benita with a smile. "It is Sunday,
and we rest on Sunday, you know."

"Oh! I forgot. The Makalanga with their ghosts and you with your
Sunday--really I do not know which is the worse. Well, then, I must do
my own share and yours too, I suppose," and he turned with a shrug of
his shoulders.

XIV

THE FLIGHT

The next morning, Sunday, Meyer went to work on his new plan. What it
was Benita did not trouble to inquire, but she gathered that it had
something to do with the measuring out of the chapel cave into squares
for the more systematic investigation of each area. At twelve o'clock he
emerged for his midday meal, in the course of which he remarked that it
was very dreary working in that place alone, and that he would be glad
when it was Monday, and they could accompany him. His words evidently
disturbed Mr. Clifford not a little, and even excited some compunction
in the breast of Benita.

What would his feelings be, she wondered, when he found that they
had run away, leaving him to deal with their joint undertaking
single-handed! Almost was she minded to tell him the whole truth;
yet--and this was a curious evidence of the man's ascendancy over
her--she did not. Perhaps she felt that to do so would be to put an end
to their scheme, since then by argument, blandishments, threats, force,
or appeal to their sense of loyalty, it mattered not which, he would
bring about its abandonment. But she wanted to fulfil that scheme, to
be free of Bambatse, its immemorial ruins, its graveyard cave, and
the ghoul, Jacob Meyer, who could delve among dead bones and in living
hearts with equal skill and insight, and yet was unable to find the
treasure that lay beneath either of them.

So they hid the truth, and talked with feverish activity about other
things, such as the drilling of th