ked the door and went away again.

"Oh, Lyndall," said Em, entering the dining room, and bathed in tears,
that afternoon, "I have been begging Bonaparte to let him out, and he
won't."

"The more you beg the more he will not," said Lyndall.

She was cutting out aprons on the table.

"Oh, but it's late, and I think they want to kill him," said Em, weeping
bitterly; and finding that no more consolation was to be gained from her
cousin, she went off blubbering--"I wonder you can cut out aprons when
Waldo is shut up like that."

For ten minutes after she was gone Lyndall worked on quietly; then she
folded up her stuff, rolled it tightly together, and stood before the
closed door of the sitting room with her hands closely clasped. A flush
rose to her face: she opened the door quickly, and walked in, went to
the nail on which the key of the fuel-room hung. Bonaparte and Tant
Sannie sat there and saw her.

"What do you want?" they asked together.

"This key," she said, holding it up, and looking at them.

"Do you mean her to have it?" said Tant Sannie in Dutch.

"Why don't you stop her?" asked Bonaparte in English.

"Why don't you take it from her?" said Tant Sannie.

So they looked at each other, talking, while Lyndall walked to the
fuel-house with the key, her underlip bitten in.

"Waldo," she said, as she helped him to stand up, and twisted his arm
about her waist to support him, "we will not be children always; we
shall have the power, too, some day." She kissed his naked shoulder with
her soft little mouth. It was all the comfort her young soul could give
him.

Chapter 1.XIII. He Makes Love.

"Here," said Tant Sannie to her Hottentot maid, "I have been in this
house four years, and never been up in the loft. Fatter women than I go
up ladders; I will go up today and see what it is like, and put it to
rights up there. You bring the little ladder and stand at the bottom."

"There's one would be sorry if you were to fall," said the Hottentot
maid, leering at Bonaparte's pipe, that lay on the table.

"Hold your tongue, jade," said her mistress, trying to conceal a pleased
smile, "and go and fetch the ladder."

There was a never-used trap-door at one end of the sitting room: this
the Hottentot maid pushed open, and setting the ladder against it, the
Boer-woman with some danger and difficulty climbed into the loft. Then
the Hottentot maid took the ladder away, as her husband was mending the
wagon-house, a