a trice Sonnenberg was standing upright again,
the back of his coat and trousers bearing a strong family likeness to
Lot's wife subsequent to her "conversion," shaking his fist wildly, and
rolling out curses thick and marvellous in many languages. Then he
fished some coins out of his pocket, and flinging them at Tom, ordered
him to quit that instant, and that he would want every farthing of it
and more to pay the fine that would be put upon him for this assault.

The Kaffir, whose face had resumed its normal good-humour, picked up the
money with native imperturbability, and having satisfied himself that it
represented every farthing of his wages, coolly pocketed it, and took
his departure.

Scarcely were the public offices open than Sonnenberg came rolling in to
prefer his charge of assault against Tom, a proceeding which that astute
child of nature met by taking out a cross-summons, and in the result
both were dismissed before half heard, Mr Van Stolz remarking on the
very strange circumstance of Lambert witnessing the affair through a
window, and yet not going to render assistance. And Sonnenberg had the
pleasure of paying a guinea to the law-agent, Tasker, having--unwisely--
employed that astute practitioner, in the hope of rendering Tom's
conviction doubly sure.

Tom, however, was the gainer by the full amount of his wages, over and
above the sum of fifteen pounds which his ex-master had so generously
presented him with, in order to compass an enemy's ruin. Nothing more,
however, was said about this, and a few days later he disappeared from
Doppersdorp. But greatly did the malevolent Jew rage and swear, as he
reflected how he had been done, and, thinking to recognise his hand in
the matter throughout, more than ever did he vow the most deadly
vengeance upon Roden Musgrave.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A SHAKE OF THE DICE.

Time stood not still, even at Doppersdorp, and on the whole it went by
merrily. There were always mounted contingents proceeding to the seat
of war or returning thence, the latter quicker that they went, as the
misanthropic Emerson cynically, but we believe libellously, put it.
This kept things lively, especially for such good Doppersdorpers as had
anything to sell, and was a state of affairs likely to last
indefinitely, for, although actual hostilities were confined to the
Transkei, Kreli was scotched, not killed, and as long as the Paramount
Chief was at large and unconquered there was no