dropped anchor in the bay he found
himself appointed to some place up-country. He bet me a bottle of this
stuff I couldn't tell him where it was, and he won, for, by George, I
couldn't. The best of the joke was, _we_ could hardly find any one who
did know. What was the name of the place, Musgrave?"

"Doppersdorp."

"Doppersdorp. Of course it was. We passed the word, `Where's
Doppersdorp?' and hanged if any one knew. Well, I suppose you found it
at last?"

"Oh yes."

"Did you go to the gold-fields from there?"

"No, I put in about a month at a place called Barabastadt, with my old
friends the Van Stolzes. He's R.M. up there now."

"Van Stolz? I know him," said the captain. "He used to be in the
Customs, or something, at Port Elizabeth years ago. He was only there a
little while though. A thick-set, brisk, jolly little man, isn't he?"

"Yes. That's him."

"I remember him. Good sort of chap, although he's a Dutchman."

"Good sort of chap!" echoed Roden. "I should rather say he was. He's a
rare specimen in this world, I can tell you. One who once a man's
friend remains so for life."

Mona bent down over her plate to hide the sudden rush which welled to
her eyes. He was too cruel. The tone--light, easy, cynical--conveyed
no special meaning to the other listener. But to her--ah! she felt the
full force of its lash. During the foregoing, the other passengers had
fallen into their own conversation, leaving this to the trio who are our
special acquaintances. But if Roden edged his words with a bitter
sting, discernible only to the ears of the one who knew what lay behind
them, it was that he felt bitter at that moment--cruelly, remorselessly
bitter. Why had she thus risen up before him to revive the sweet and
witching mockery of that utterly hollow past? There she sat, in all the
bewildering beauty of her splendid form, all grace and seductiveness;
she who had so passionately, so fervidly vowed herself his--his for ever
in life and in death. There she sat, only the width of the narrow table
between them, yet as far removed as though an impassable gulf a thousand
miles in breadth divided them. For she had fallen away from him in the
hour of trial, and his faith in her was killed. `For ever in life and
in death!' had been the hollow ringing vow. `In death?' Ah! that might
be; in life, never. And then a strange, weird, ghostly presentiment
came upon him, like the black edge of a shadow, as