nd rest, I think, dear."

"Yes, let us do that, on the top of the wall. We can see the Makalanga
from there, and it will be a comfort to be sure that there are other
human beings left in the world besides ourselves and Jacob Meyer."

So presently they went, and from the spot whence Meyer used to shoot at
the Matabele camp, looked down upon the Makalanga moving about the first
enclosure far below. By the aid of the glasses Benita even thought that
she recognised Tamas, although of this it was difficult to be sure, for
they were all very much alike. Still, the discovery quite excited her.

"I am sure it is Tamas," she said. "And oh! how I wish that we were down
there with him, although it is true that then we should be nearer to the
Matabele. But they are better than Mr. Meyer, much better."

Now for a while they were silent, till at length she said suddenly:

"Father, you are keeping something back from me, and things begin to
come back. Tell me; did I go anywhere last night with Mr. Meyer--you and
he and I together?"

He hesitated and looked guilty; Mr. Clifford was not a good actor.

"I see that we did; I am sure that we did. Father, tell me. I must know,
I will know."

Then he gave way.

"I didn't want to speak, dear, but perhaps it is best. It is a very
strange story. Will you promise not to be upset?"

"I will promise not to be more upset than I am at present," she
answered, with a sad little laugh. "Go on."

"You remember that Jacob Meyer wanted to mesmerize you?"

"I am not likely to forget it," she answered.

"Well, last night he did mesmerize you."

"What?" she said. "_What?_ Oh! how dreadful! Now I understand it all.
But when?"

"When you were sound asleep, I suppose. At least, the first I knew of
it was that some noise woke me, and I came out of the hut to see you
following him like a dead woman, with a lamp in your hand."

Then he told her all the story, while she listened aghast.

"How dared he!" she gasped, when her father had finished the long tale.
"I hate him; I almost wish that you had killed him," and she clenched
her little hands and shook them in the air.

"That is not very Christian of you, Miss Clifford," said a voice behind
her. "But it is past one o'clock, and as I am still alive I have come to
tell you that it is time for luncheon."

Benita wheeled round upon the stone on which she sat, and there,
standing amidst the bushes a little way from the foot of the wall, was
Jacob