ed from the room to speak to
some one, whereon the doctor said--

"A foreigner as you see, a Hungarian; the Hungarian women are
very good looking and very charming."

"So I have understood," I answered, "but does this lady live
here?"

"Oh, no. She is dead, or I believe that she is dead. I am not
sure, because I make it a rule never to pry into people's private
affairs. All I know about her is that she was a beauty whom
Marnham married late in life upon the Continent when she was but
eighteen. As is common in such cases he was very jealous of her,
but it didn't last long, as she died, or I understand that she
died, within a year of her daughter's birth. The loss affected
him so much that he emigrated to South Africa with the child and
began life anew. I do not think that they correspond with
Hungary, and he never speaks of her even to his daughter, which
suggests that she is dead."

I reflected that all these circumstances might equally well
suggest several other things, but said nothing, thinking it
wisest not to pursue the subject. Presently Marnham returned and
informed me that a native had just brought him word that the
Basutos had made off homeward with our cattle, but had left the
wagon and its contents quite untouched, not even stealing the
spare guns and ammunition.

"That's luck," I said, astonished, "but extremely strange. How
do you explain it, Mr. Marnham?"

He shrugged his shoulders and answered--

"As every one knows, you are a much greater expert in native
habits and customs than I am, Mr. Quatermain."

"There are only two things that I can think of," I said. "One is
that for some reason or other they thought the wagon tagati,
bewitched you know, and that it would bring evil on them to touch
it, though this did not apply to the oxen. The other is that
they supposed it, but not the oxen, to belong to some friend of
their own whose property they did not wish to injure."

He looked at me sharply but said nothing, and I went on to tell
them the details of the attack that had been made upon us,
adding--

"The odd part of the affair is that one of those Basutos called
out to us that some infernal scoundrel of a white had warned
Sekukuni of our coming and that he had ordered them to take our
guns and cattle. This Basuto, who was wounded and praying for
mercy, was drowned before he could tell me who the white man
was."

"A Boer, I expect," said Marnham quietly. "As you know they are