hoof. It is something of a concession to Mother Grundy, for even here
that arch-hag can make her upas power felt, and I don't want to have all
the tongues in the district wagging like the tails of a pack of
foxhounds just unkennelled. We had enough of that at Komgha. So I've
arranged that at any rate we shan't be under the same roof. See?"

"Yes; but it's ridiculous all the same. As if we weren't relations,
too."

"And will be closer relations soon--in fact, the closest. I suppose we
must wait a year--but that rests with you."

"I don't know. It's an awfully long time," and she sighed. Then rather
hesitatingly: "Darling, you have never yet shown me the little silver
box. We are alone now, and--"

"And you are dying to see it. Well, Eanswyth, it is really a most
remarkable coincidence--in fact, almost makes a man feel superstitious."

It was near sundown. A soft, golden light rested upon the great slopes,
and the cooing of doves floated melodiously from the mealie lands in the
valley. The mountain stream roared through its rocky bed at their feet,
and among the crannies and ledges of a profusion of piled up boulders
forming miniature cliffs around, a whole colony of bright eyed little
_dasjes_ [The "rock rabbit"--really a species of marmot] were disporting
themselves, scampering in and out with a boldness which augured volumes
in favour of the peaceable aspect of the two human intruders upon their
sequestered haunt.

"As you say, the time and place are indeed fitting," said Eustace,
sitting down upon a boulder and taking the box from its place of
concealment. "Now, my darling, look at this. The assegai point is
broken short off, driven with such force that it has remained embedded
in the lid."

It was even as he said. Had the blade been driven with a powerful
hammer it could not have been more firmly wedged within the metal.

"That was the blow I received during the fight," he went on. "The dent
at the side of it was done when I stood up to the witch-doctress. It
did not penetrate much that time; not that the blow wasn't hard enough,
for it nearly knocked me down, but the assegai was a rotten one and made
of soft iron, and the point flattened out like a Snider bullet.
Heavens! but that was an ordeal--something of a nerve-tickler!" he
added, with a grave and meditative look in his eyes, as if he were
mentally re-enacting that trying and critical scene.

Eanswyth shuddered, but said nothing. She