who
being a paid servant coming from far away, from the neighbourhood of
Capetown I believe, had no interest in the matter one way or the other
beyond that of earning his money with as little trouble as possible.
Yes, they smiled at each other, looking as though a great weight had
been lifted off their minds, till presently the lawyer checked himself
and said:

"Be so good as to set out the proofs of which you speak, Vrouw Botmar."

"I will," I answered, "but tell me first, the ship _India_ was wrecked
in the year 1824, was she not?"

"Undoubtedly," answered the lawyer.

"Well, have you heard that another ship called the _Flora_, travelling
from the Cape I know not whither, was lost on this coast in the same
month of the following year, and that a few of her passengers escaped?"

"I have heard of it," he said.

"Good. Now look here," and going to a chest that stood beneath the
window, I lifted from it the old Bible that belonged to my grandfather
and father, on the white pages at the beginning of which are written the
record of many births, marriages, deaths and other notable events that
had happened in the family. Opening it I searched and pointed to a
certain entry inscribed in the big writing of my husband Jan, and in ink
which was somewhat faint, for the ink that the traders sold us in those
days had little virtue in it. Beneath this entry were others made by Jan
in later years, telling of things that had happened to us, such as the
death of his great-aunt who left him money, the outbreak of small-pox
on the farm, and the number of people who died from it, the attack of a
band of the red Kaffirs upon our house, when by the mercy of God we beat
them off, leaving twelve of their dead behind them, but taking as many
of our best oxen, and so forth.

"Read," I said, and the interpreter read as follows:

"On the twelfth day of September in the year 1825 (the date being
written in letters) our little daughter Suzanne found a starving English
boy in a kloof, who had been shipwrecked on the coast. We have taken him
in as a gift of the Lord. He says that his name is Rolf Kenzie."

"You see the date," I said.

"Yes," answered the lawyer, "and it has not been altered!"

"No," I added, "it has not been altered;" but I did not tell them that
Jan had not written it down till afterwards, and then by mistake had
recorded the year in which he wrote, refusing to change it, although I
pointed out the error, because, he