things over, and I believe you'd better trek into Fort Salisbury."

"Is there going to be war then?" asked Justin quickly, for the words
were as a knell to his newly born fool's paradise. Had he found Hermia
only to lose her immediately?

"No, I'll stay on. I don't believe it'll be anything more than a
scare," answered the latter with a light laugh.

Hilary Blachland had been watching her, while not appearing to, watching
them both. The start of consternation which escaped Justin Spence at
the prospect of this separation had not escaped him. He noted, too,
that beneath Hermia's lightness of tone there lurked a shadowed anxiety.
He was sharp, even as she herself had defined him--yes, he was
decidedly sharp-witted was Hilary Blachland.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A LIMED BIRD.

"Was the trip a success this time, Hilary? And--where's Mr Sybrandt?
Didn't he come back with you?"

"Three questions at once. That's the feminine cross-examiner all over.
Well, it was and it wasn't. There was no doing any trade to speak of,
and Lo Ben was in a very _snuffy_ mood. I found out a good deal that
was worth finding out though. Questions two and three. I left Sybrandt
half a day's trek the other side of the Inpembisi river."

"And do you think there is really any danger of war?" asked Hermia.

"I think you will be far safer away from here. So you had better go.
I'm sending the waggon on to Fort Salisbury to-morrow." And again,
without seeming to, his keen observant glance took in Justin's face.

"But I don't want to go, Hilary, and I won't," was the answer. "I'm not
in the least afraid, and should hate the bother of moving just now."

"Very well, please yourself. But don't blame me if you do get a scare,
that's all."

Heavens! what a cold-blooded devil this was, Justin Spence was thinking.
If Hermia belonged to him, _he_ would not treat a question of peril and
alarm to her as a matter of no particular importance as this one was
doing. He would insist upon her removing to a place of safety; and,
unable to restrain himself, he said something to that effect. He did
not, however, get much satisfaction. His host turned upon him a bland
inscrutable face.

"Perhaps you're right, Spence. I shouldn't be surprised if you were,"
was all the reply he obtained. For Hilary Blachland was not the man to
allow other people to interfere in his private affairs.

"By the way, there are lions round here again," said Hermia. "The