hree days before.

"Don't tell me," cried the Boer-woman; "the man isn't born that can take
me in. If he'd had money, wouldn't he have bought a horse? Men who walk
are thieves, liars, murderers, Rome's priests, seducers! I see the devil
in his nose!" cried Tant Sannie shaking her fist at him; "and to come
walking into the house of this Boer's child and shaking hands as though
he came on horseback! Oh, no, no!"

The stranger took off his hat, a tall, battered chimneypot, and
disclosed a bald head, at the back of which was a little fringe of
curled white hair, and he bowed to Tant Sannie.

"What does she remark, my friend?" he inquired, turning his
crosswise-looking eyes on the old German.

The German rubbed his old hands and hesitated.

"Ah--well--ah--the--Dutch--you know--do not like people who walk--in
this country--ah!"

"My dear friend," said the stranger, laying his hand on the German's
arm, "I should have bought myself another horse, but crossing, five days
ago, a full river, I lost my purse--a purse with five hundred pounds
in it. I spent five days on the bank of the river trying to find
it--couldn't. Paid a Kaffer nine pounds to go in and look for it at the
risk of his life--couldn't find it."

The German would have translated this information, but the Boer-woman
gave no ear.

"No, no; he goes tonight. See how he looks at me--a poor unprotected
female! If he wrongs me, who is to do me right?" cried Tant Sannie.

"I think," said the German in an undertone, "if you didn't look at her
quite so much it might be advisable. She--ah--she--might--imagine that
you liked her too well,--in fact--ah--"

"Certainly, my dear friend, certainly," said the stranger. "I shall not
look at her."

Saying this, he turned his nose full upon a small Kaffer of two years
old. That small naked son of Ham became instantly so terrified that he
fled to his mother's blanket for protection, howling horribly.

Upon this the newcomer fixed his eyes pensively on the stamp-block,
folding his hands on the head of his cane. His boots were broken, but he
still had the cane of a gentleman.

"You vagabonds se Engelschman!" said Tant Sannie, looking straight at
him.

This was a near approach to plain English; but the man contemplated the
block abstractedly, wholly unconscious that any antagonism was being
displayed toward him.

"You might not be a Scotchman or anything of that kind, might you?"
suggested the German. "It is the English