d horse guards and hunting up the
enemy--left no time for any such trivial occupations as mere
letter-writing. She had heard from Eustace oftener, letters of great
length, entertaining withal, but such as all the world might read. But
this in no wise troubled her now, for she understood. Eustace was far
too cautious to intrust anything that the world might _not_ read to so
uncertain a means of transit as was then at his disposal.
Express-riders might be cut off by the enemy in the course of their
precarious and sometimes extremely perilous mission; occasionally were
cut off.

A few days now and she would see him again, would hear his voice, would
live in the delight of his presence daily as before. Ah, but--how was
it to end? The old thought, put far away into the background during the
dull heartache of their separation, came to the fore now. They would go
back to their home, to Anta's Kloof, and things would be as before. Ah,
but would they? There lay the sting. Never--a thousand times never.
Things could never be as they were. For now that her love for the one
had been awakened, what had she left for the other? Not even the kindly
toleration of companionship which she had up till then mistaken for
love. A sentiment perilously akin to aversion had now taken the place
of this. Alas and alas! How was it to end?

The return of the Kaffrarian Rangers became a matter of daily
expectation. Preparations were made for their reception, including a
banquet on a large scale. Still they came not.

Then an ugly report got wind in Komgha--whispered at first. A disaster
had befallen. Several men belonging to the expected corps had been
killed. They had constituted a patrol, report said--then a shooting
party straying from the main body. Anyway, they had been cut off by the
enemy and massacred to a man. It was only the Moordenaar's Kop affair
over again, people said.

Later the rumour began to boil down a little. Only four men had come to
grief as reported. They had left the main body to get up a bushbuck
hunt on the banks of the Bashi. They must have crossed the river for
some reason or other, probably in pursuance of their hunt; anyhow, they
were surprised by the Kafirs and killed. And the missing men were
Hoste, Payne, Carhayes, and Eustace Milne.

The rumour spread like wildfire. The excitement became prodigious. Men
stood in eager knots at the street corners, at the bars, everywhere,
each trying t