, accompanied by the shaggy
dog, Oloffe.

"The deputies shot two of the tenants to-day," hurriedly exclaimed the
guardian of the place, without noticing Mauville's companion. "The
farmers fired upon them; they replied, and one of the tenants is
dead."

"A good lesson for them, since they were the aggressors," cried the
heir, as he sprang from the coach. "But you have startled the lady."

An exclamation from the vehicle in an unmistakably feminine voice
caused the "_wacht-meester_" now to observe the occupant for the first
time and the servant threw up his hands in consternation. Here was a
master who drank all night, shot his tenants by proxy, visited
strollers, and now brought one of them to the _steyn_. That the
strange lady was a player, Oly-koeks immediately made up his mind, and
he viewed her with mingled aversion and fear, as the early settlers
regarded sorcerers and witches. She was very beautiful, he observed in
that quick glance, but therefore the more dangerous; she appeared
distressed, but he attributed her apparent grief to artfulness. He at
once saw a new source of trouble in her presence; as though the
threads were not already sufficiently entangled, without the
introduction of a woman--and she a public performer!--into the
complicated mesh!

"Fasten the iron shutters of the house," briefly commanded Mauville,
breaking in upon the servant's painful reverie. "Then help this man
change the horses and put in the grays."

Oly-koeks, with a final deprecatory glance at the coach, expressive
of his estimate of his master's light conduct and his apprehension of
the outcome, disappeared to obey this order.

"May I assist you, Miss Carew?" said the land baron deferentially,
offering his arm to the young girl, whose pale but observant face
disclosed new demur and inquiry.

"But you said we would go right on?" she returned, drawing back with
implied dissent.

"When the horses are changed! If you will step out, the carriage will
be driven to the barn."

Reluctantly she obeyed, and as she did so, the patroon and the
coachman exchanged pithy glances.

"Look sharp!" commanded the master, sternly. "Oh, he won't run away,"
added Mauville quickly, in answer to her look of surprise. "He knows I
could find him, and"--fingering his revolver--"will not disoblige me.
Later we'll hear the rogue's story."

The man's averted countenance smothered a clandestine smile, as he
touched the horses with his whip and turned