a minute or so until the heavy door slammed, and
then he threw open the window and gazed sorrowfully down the street at
the disappearing cab. His whole attitude expressed such dejection that
his ward, who had just entered the room, felt more drawn towards him
than she had ever done before. Slipping up to him she placed her warm
tender hand upon his sympathetically.

"He will soon be back, dear Mr. Girdlestone," she said. "You must not
be uneasy about him."

As she stood beside him in her white dress, with a single red ribbon
round her neck and a band of the same colour round her waist, she was as
fair a specimen of English girl-hood as could have been found in all
London. The merchant's features softened as he looked down at her fresh
young face, and he put out his hand as though to caress her, but some
unpleasant thought must have crossed his mind, for he assumed suddenly a
darker look and turned away from her without a word. More than once
that night she recalled that strange spasmodic expression of something
akin to horror which had passed over her guardian's features as he gazed
at her.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE LAND OF DIAMONDS.

The anxious father had not very long to wait before he heard tidings of
his son. Upon the first of June the great vessel weighed her anchor in
the Southampton Water, and steamed past the Needles into the Channel.
On the 5th she was reported from Madeira, and the merchant received
telegrams both from the agent of the firm and from his son. Then there
was a long interval of silence, for the telegraph did not extend to the
Cape at that time, but, at last on the 8th of August, a letter announced
Ezra's safe arrival. He wrote again from Wellington, which was the
railway terminus, and finally there came a long epistle from Kimberley,
the capital of the mining district, in which the young man described his
eight hundred miles drive up country and all the adventures which
overtook him on the way.

"This place, Kimberley," he said in his letter, "has grown into a
fair-sized town, though a few years ago it was just a camp. Now there
are churches, banks, and a club in it. There are a sprinkling of
well-dressed people in the streets, but the majority are grimy-looking
chaps from the diggings, with slouched hats and coloured shirts, rough
fellows to look at, though quiet enough as a rule. Of course, there are
blacks everywhere, of all shades, from pure jet up to the lightest
yellow.