Hallo! Wonder if those chaps have brought any news."

Three Police troopers rode quickly by, heading for the quarters of their
commanding officer. They had evidently ridden express direct from the
Transkei, and had not spared their horses either, for both the latter
and themselves looked jaded and travel-worn, besides being splashed from
head to foot with mud.

The evening passed pleasantly enough. Eustace declined his friend's
invitation to accompany him again into the village to try and learn some
more news. After that night Eanswyth and he would be parted--for how
long, Heaven only knew. But in that rather crowded circle there was no
such thing as even a minute's _tete-a-tete_, and this he well knew. The
conversation was all general, still he could delight his eyes with the
mere sight of her--could let his ears revel in the music of her voice.
Yet was there a something underlying the tone, the glance, of one or
both of them, which conveyed a more than ordinary meaning?

For, that night, long after the bugle calls from the Police camps and
the carolling of jolly souls wending somewhat unsteadily homeward from
the convivial bar, had sunk into silence, Mrs Hoste made unto her lord
and master a strange remark.

"What a pity Eanswyth didn't marry her husband's cousin instead of her
husband."

"Great Scott! What the very deuce do you mean?"

"Well, I mean it is a pity. Look how well they seem to suit each other.
Look at them here to-day. Anyone, any stranger coming in hap-hazard,
would at once have jumped to the conclusion that they belonged to each
other. And it's a pity they don't. Tom Carhayes isn't at all the man
for that dear Eanswyth. I should be uncommonly sorry to be his wife
myself, I know that much."

"I daresay you would. But Providence has been much kinder to you in
that line than you deserve. But oh, good Heavens, Ada, do be mighty
careful what you say. If you had propounded that idea of yours to
anyone else, for instance, there's no knowing what amount of mischief it
might open up."

"So? All right. There's no fear of my being such a fool. If you've
preached enough--have you? Well, go to sleep."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"BUT I AM THY LOVE."

Three days later Carhayes arrived. He was in high spirits. The
remainder of his stock was under way, and, in charge of Eustace, was
trekking steadily down to his other farm in the Colony, which was
sufficiently remote from the seat of host