eave, although it was
midnight. Yet the one more pipe which he had humbugged conscience into
allowing would prove the necessary sedative, was smoked out; nor was
there any further excuse for delaying bed. But just as he had risen to
carry out that intent, there came a knock at the back door.

The house, we have said, was a very small one--two rooms in front, which
its occupant used as bedroom and sitting-room, and two at the back, a
storeroom and kitchen, which latter he did not use, save for stowing
away lumber. There was no hall, the front and back doors opening into
the sitting-room and kitchen respectively. Towards the latter Roden now
made his way, wondering the while; for the knock had been a stealthy
one--unmistakably so--and of as faint a nature as was compatible with
audibility at all. As he paused to listen, Roden laughed grimly to
himself, deeming he could guess at its meaning, and was just turning
away to leave it unanswered when it was renewed, and with it, his ear
caught the bass whisper of a Kaffir voice. This put another light on
the case. A matter of duty might be involved.

"What do you want?" he said, suddenly throwing open the door. The light
he carried fell upon the form of a single Kaffir, who grinned.

"Why, it's Tom," went on Roden, holding the lantern to the man's face,
and recognising a particularly civil and good-humoured store-boy, in the
employ of the abominable Sonnenberg. "Well, Tom, what the deuce do you
want with me at this time of night? If it's another complaint against
your _baas_, you'll have to wait till to-morrow, my boy."

This, in allusion to a past case of disputed wages, wherein Tom had
summoned his Hebraic employer before Mr Van Stolz, and had won. Yet
Sonnenberg had still kept him in his service. Now the Kaffir grinned
and shook his head. It was no case of the kind, he declared, and his
manner was mysterious. Would the _baas_ let him come in for a little
while and talk, and above all things shut the door? He had something
very important to discuss. Roden, impressed by the mysteriousness of
his manner, complied without hesitation. Yet, in all probability, it
was some commonplace trifle. Natives were prone to blow out a frog into
an ox.

Seen in the light of the room, this mysterious midnight visitor was a
sturdy, thick-set Kaffir, of medium height, with a peculiarly open and
honest countenance. He was dressed in the ordinary slop clothes of a
store or s