of the wall Benita glanced back
to bid goodbye to that place which she hoped never to see again. Yet she
could not feel as though she looked her last upon it; to her it wore
no air of farewell, and even as she descended the perilous stairs, she
found herself making mental notes as to how they might best be climbed
again. Also, she could not believe that she had done with Mr. Meyer. It
seemed to her as though for a long while yet her future would be full of
him.

They reached the outer fortifications in safety, and there were greeted
with some surprise but with no displeasure by the Makalanga, whom they
found still drilling with the rifles, in the use of which a certain
number of them appeared to have become fairly proficient. Going to
the hut in which the spare goods from the waggon had been stored, they
quickly made their preparations. Here also, Mr. Clifford wrote a letter,
one of the most unpleasant that he had ever been called upon to compose.
It ran thus:

"Dear Meyer,

"I don't know what you will think of us, but we are escaping from this
place. The truth is that I am not well, and my daughter can bear it no
longer. She says that if she stops here, she will die, and that hunting
for treasure in that ghastly grave-yard is shattering her nerves. I
should have liked to tell you, but she begged me not, being convinced
that if I did, you would over-persuade us or stop us in some way. As for
the gold, if you can find it, take it all. I renounce my share. We are
leaving you the waggon and the oxen, and starting down country on our
horses. It is a perilous business, but less so than staying here, under
the circumstances. If we never meet again we hope that you will forgive
us, and wish you all good fortune.--Yours sincerely and with much
regret,

"T. Clifford."

The letter written, they saddled the horses which had been brought up
for their inspection, and were found to be in good case, and fastened
their scanty belongings, and as many cartridges as they could carry in
packs behind their saddles. Then, each of them armed with a rifle--for
during their long journeyings Benita had learned to shoot--they mounted
and made for the little side-entrance, as the main gate through which
they had passed on their arrival was now built up. This side-entrance, a
mere slit in the great wall, with a precipitous approach, was open, for
now that their fear of the Matabele had to some extent passed off, the
Makalanga used it to dr