from
the _veldt_ like some lonely tower in the wilderness.
Curious-shaped rocks cropped out unexpectedly on its scarred sides
and a few prickly pear bushes stood up here and there like weird
guardians of the rugged stronghold. Sylvia had an odd feeling that
they watched her with unfriendly attention as she approached.
Though solitude girt her round, she did not feel herself to be
really alone.

It took her some time to reach it, for the ground was rough and
sandy under her feet, and it was farther away than it looked. She
realized as she drew nearer that to climb to the round summit would
be no easy task, but that fact did not daunt her. She felt the
need for strenuous exercise just then.

The shadows were lengthening, and the full glare of the sun no
longer smote upon her. She began to climb with some energy. But
she soon found that she had undertaken a greater task than she had
anticipated. The way was steep, and here and there the boulders
seemed to block further progress completely. She pressed on with
diminishing speed, taking a slanting upward course that presently
brought her into the sun again and in view of the little cabin
above the stony watercourse that had sheltered Guy for so long.

The sight of it seemed to take all the strength out of her. She
sat down on a rock to rest. All day long she had been forcing the
picture that Mrs. Merston had painted for her into the background
of her thoughts. All day long it had been pressing forward in
spite of her. It seemed to be burning her brain, and now she could
not ignore it any longer. Sitting there exhausted in mind and
body, she had to face it in all its crudeness. She had to meet and
somehow to conquer the sickening sensation of revolt that had come
upon her.

She sat there for a long time, till the sun sank low in the sky and
a wondrous purple glow spread across the _veldt_. She knew that it
was growing late, that Burke would be expecting her for the evening
meal, but she could not summon the strength she needed to end her
solitary vigil on the _kopje_. She had a feeling as of waiting for
something. Though she was too tired to pray, yet it seemed to her
that a message was on its way. She watched the glory in the west
with an aching intensity that possessed her to the exclusion of
aught beside. Somehow, even in the midst of her weariness and
depression, she felt sure that help would come.

The glory began to wane, and a freshness blew a