of asking whether he was likely to cross
to the other side, and talk with the chiefs in Zululand, but judged it
wise not to seem too curious. He could find that out later, for he had
made up his mind to be one of those who should go on from here to
Nteseni's Great Place.

For Teliso was having a good time. There had been a fair season and
food was plentiful. The people were hospitable; and he was just as fond
of meat and _tywala_ as any other native. He was faithful to his
employers, the Government, according to his lights, but his pay was not
on a luxurious scale, and the risks he ran were at times considerable.
So he made up his mind to combine pleasure with business--to lay himself
out to have a good time. And--who shall blame him?

CHAPTER SEVEN.

OF A DAY OF REST.

Sunday had come round--had dawned, just such a morning as anybody could
have wished, cloudless, glowing--warm of course, it would be hot in an
hour or so, but Elvesdon, like other people, was used to this at the
time of year and cared not a rush for it, especially as he was dressed
accordingly.

His horse was being led up and down before the stoep by his native
servant. The animal was chafing impatiently as though aware that it was
bound for its old home. It was the horse that Thornhill had pressed
upon his acceptance, and somehow Elvesdon could not help wishing that he
had not. The animal was a fine, useful, well-looking beast--this he
fully appreciated; but somehow he could not shake off the idea that it
was a sort of compensation for what he had been able--privileged--to do,
and this idea he did not like in the least.

Well, after all, it was a mistake to be too thin-skinned, he decided.
Probably the donor did not look at it in that light at all. At any rate
he was going to put in a long, enjoyable day in the company of the said
donor--and in that of somebody else; so, in the best of spirits, he
raised the stirrups by a hole or two and swung himself into the saddle.

"So long, Prior," he called out to the clerk, who was standing by,
watching his departure. "I may or may not be back to-night, but in any
case shall be here in the morning in time to open as usual."

"All right, sir. So long."

The young man gazed after him, perhaps a trifle wistfully. The day
would be a bit dull without him. He had grown to like his new chief
more than a little, as we heard him admit to Thornhill in no uncertain
tones, and enjoyed his convers