the karoo bush, they had, in silence, made pledges to each other,
that life's disguises should be no more for them; that the door should
be wide open between the chambers where their souls dwelt, each in its
own pension of being, with its own individual sense, but with the same
light, warmth, and nutriment, and with the free confidence which
exempts life from its confessions. There should be no hidden things any
more.

There was a smile on the man's face as he looked out over the valley.
With this day had come triumph for the flag he loved, for the land
where he was born, and also the beginning of peace for the land where
he had worked, where he had won his great fortune. He had helped to
make this land what it was, and in battle he had helped to save it from
disaster.

But there had come another victory--the victory of Home. The
coincidence of all the vital values had come in one day, almost in one
hour.

Smiling, he laid his hand upon the delicate fingers of the woman beside
him, as they rested on her knee. She turned and looked at him with an
understanding which is the beginning of all happiness; and a colour
came to her cheeks such as he had not seen there for more days than he
could count. Her smile answered his own, but her eyes had a sadness
which would never wholly leave them. When he had first seen those eyes
he had thought them the most honest he had ever known. Looking at them
now, with confidence restored, he thought again as he did that night at
the opera the year of the Raid.

"It's all before us still, Jasmine," he said with a ring of purpose and
a great gentleness in his tone.

Her hand trembled, the shadows deepened in her eyes, but determination
gathered at her lips.

Some deep-cherished, deferred resolve reasserted itself.

"But I cannot--I cannot go on until you know all, Rudyard, and then you
may not wish to go on," she said. Her voice shook, and the colour went
from her lips. "I must be honest now--at last, about everything. I want
to tell you--"

He got to his feet. Stooping, he raised her, and looked her squarely in
the eyes.

"Tell me nothing, Jasmine," he said. Then he added in a voice of
finality, "There is nothing to tell." Holding both her hands tight in
one of his own, he put his fingers on her lips.

"A fresh start for a long race--the road is clear," he said firmly.

Looking into his eyes, she knew that he read her life and soul, that in
his deep primitive way he understoo