man in ten can fulfil
all the conditions requisite to becoming a good boxer. The fact is,
however, I hate rows of any kind, even when only a spectator. When
fellows say they like them I never altogether believe them."

"Unless they are very young. But the Berserk taint soon wears off as
you get on into life a bit," said Errington.

"Well now--I turn off here. Good-evening."

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

"IT IS THE VOICE OF AN ORACLE."

Swaanepoel's Hoek, poor Tom Carhayes' other farm, was situated in the
division of Somerset East, somewhere between the Great and Little Fish
Rivers. It was rather an out-of-the-way place, lying in a mountainous
district, sparsely inhabited and only reached by rough wheel-tracks
through narrow, winding _poorts_. But the scenery was wild and romantic
to a degree. The bold sweep of bush-grown slopes, the lofty heights
culminating in red iron-bound _krantzes_ whose inaccessible hedges
afforded nesting place for colonies of _aasvogels_, the thunder of the
mountain torrent pent-up between black rocky walls where the maiden-hair
fern hung in solid festoons from every crack and cranny, the cheerful
and abundant sounds of bird and animal life--all this rendered the place
a wonderfully pleasant and attractive, if somewhat out-of-the-way,
residence.

To Eanswyth Carhayes, however, this very isolation constituted an
additional charm. The solemn grandeur of the soaring mountains, the
hush of the seldom trodden valleys, conveyed to her mind, after the
bustle and turmoil of the crowded frontier settlement, the perfection of
peace. She felt that she could spend her whole life on this beautiful
spot. And it was her own.

She had only once before visited the place--shortly after her marriage--
and then had spent but three or four days there. Its beauties had
failed at that time to strike her imagination. Now it was different.
All the world was a Paradise. It seemed that there was nothing left in
life for her to desire.

The house was a fair size, almost too large for the overseer and his
family. That worthy had asked Eustace whether Mrs Carhayes would
prefer that they should vacate it. There was a substantial outbuilding,
used--or rather only half of it was used--as a store, and a saddle and
harness room. They could make themselves perfectly snug in that, if
Mrs Carhayes wished to have the house to herself.

"I can answer for it: Mrs Carhayes wishes nothing of the sort," he had
re