t and empty. She was
quite alone. She could hear the rising rush of the wind across the
_veldt_, and it sounded to her like a thing hunted and fleeing.
The sand of the desert whipped against the windows, and the gloom
increased. She was not naturally nervous, but a sense of fear
oppressed her. She had that fateful feeling, which sometimes comes
even in the sunshine, of something about to happen, of turning a
sharp corner in the road of life that must change the whole outlook
and trend of existence. She was afraid to look forward. For the
first time life had become terrible to her.

She roused herself to action at last and got up from the table.
Something fell on the ground as she did so. It was the key that
Burke had given into her care. She knew it for the key of his
strong-box in which he kept his money and papers. His journeys to
Brennerstadt were never frequent, and she knew that he usually kept
a considerable sum by him. The box was kept on the floor of the
cupboard in the wall of the room which Guy now occupied. It was
very heavy, so heavy that Burke himself never lifted it, seldom
moved it from its place, but opened and closed it as it stood. She
wondered as she groped for the key why he had given it to her.
That action of his pointed to but one conclusion. He expected to
be going into danger. He would not have parted with it otherwise.
Of that she was certain. He and Guy were both going into danger
then, and she was left in utter solitude to endure her suspense as
best she could.

She searched in vain for the key. It was small and made to fit a
patent lock. The darkness of the room baffled her search, and at
last she abandoned it and went to the pantry for a lamp. The
Kaffirs had gone to their huts. She found the lamp empty and
untrimmed in a corner, with two others in the same condition. The
oil was kept in an outbuilding some distance from the bungalow, and
there was none in hand. She diverted her search to candles, but
these also were hard to find. She spent several minutes there in
the darkness with the wind howling weirdly around like a lost thing
seeking shelter, and the sand beating against the little window
with a persistent rattle that worried her nerves with a strange
bewilderment.

Eventually she found an empty candlestick, and after prolonged
search an end of candle. Sand was everywhere. It ground under her
feet, and made gritty everything she touched. Was it fancy that