you have been away from me since--since that
awful time."

Then had come the sweet, clinging, agonising tenderness of parting.
Eanswyth, having watched him out of sight, returned slowly to the house,
while he, starting upon his strange venture, was thinking in the
bitterness of his soul how--when--they would meet again. His heart was
heavy with a sense of coming evil, and as he rode along his thoughts
would recur again and again to the apparition which had so terrified
Eanswyth a few nights ago. Was it the product of a hallucination on her
part after all, or was it the manifestation of some strange and dual
phase of Nature, warning of the ill that was to come? He felt almost
inclined to admit the latter.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

XALASA'S REVELATION.

"You ought to consider yourself uncommonly fortunate, Milne," said
Hoste, as the two men drew near Anta's Kloof. "You are the only one of
the lot of us not burnt out."

"That's a good deal thanks to Josane," replied Eustace, as the house
came into sight. "He thought he could manage to save it. I didn't.
But he was right."

"Ha-ha! I believe the old scamp has been enjoying himself all this time
with the rebels. I dare say he has been helping to do the faggot
trick."

"Quite likely."

Hoste eyed his companion with a curious glance. The latter had been
rather laconic during their ride; otherwise he seemed to show no very
great interest one way or another in the object of it. Yet there was
reason for believing that if Xalasa's tale should prove true it would
make every difference to the whole of Eustace Milne's future life.

The sun was just setting as they reached Anta's Kloof. The Kafir had
stipulated that they should meet him at night. He did not want to incur
potential pains and penalties at the hands of his compatriots as an
"informer" if he could possibly help it. The house, as Hoste had said,
was the only one in the whole neighbourhood which had escaped the torch,
but that was all that could be said, for it was completely gutted.
Everything portable had been carried off, if likely to prove of any use
to the marauders, what was not likely so to prove being smashed or
otherwise destroyed. Windows were broken and doors hung loose on their
hinges; in fact, the place was a perfect wreck. Still it was something
that the fabric would not need rebuilding.

Hardly had they off-saddled their horses, and, knee-haltering them
close, turned them out to g