yet. By
the time it's ended, we shall have a longish bill to pay--and a good
many vacant chairs at various household tables. Fair play _is_ fair
play--even between our exalted selves and `a lot of red-blanket
niggers.'"

"Milne is right, Carhayes," struck in Hoste. "Milne is right so far.
Kafirs have got long memories, and I, for one, don't blame old Kreli for
snapping his fingers at the Governor. But I don't agree with him that
we haven't treated him fairly on the whole. Hang it, what have they got
to complain of?"

"I don't say they have anything in that line," said Eustace. "My remark
about treating them fairly was only in answer to what Tom suggested.
Still, I think it a mistake to have located the Fingoes and Gcalekas
next door to each other, with a mere artificial boundary between. It
was safe to produce a shindy sooner or later."

Thus the ball of conversation rolled on. Carhayes, excited over the
prospect of hostilities, took a glass or two of grog more than was good
for him, and waxed extremely argumentative as they adjourned to the
_stoep_ for an _al fresco_ smoke. So he and his guest began, continued,
and ended the campaign according to a great diversity of plans, each
highly satisfactory to its originators and proportionately disastrous to
the dark-skinned enemy.

In this conversation Eanswyth did not join. The sweet and soothing
influences of the day just passed filled her mind--and all this noisy
talk jarred upon her. To her also the prospect of the coming campaign
was a welcome one. After the events of the last twenty-four hours to go
on living as heretofore would be a terrible strain. Her newly awakened
love for the one man was so overwhelming as to engender in her a
proportionate feeling of aversion towards the other. It was a fearful
position. The temporary separation involved by the campaign would be
more than welcome. But separation from the one meant separation from
the other. That was not welcome.

And that other--what if he were to fall? He was so fearless--so
foolhardy and confident. What if he undertook some insane mission and
was treacherously murdered?--O Heaven--what would life be without him
now? And a rush of tears brimmed to her eyes at the mere thought.

Eustace, who had remained behind for a moment, to light his pipe, looked
up and caught her glance.

"I suppose I had better arrange to drive you over to Komgha to-morrow?"
he said, aloud and in an ordinary vo