y of dictating her history, the ending
of which seemed to affect her much, for when it was done she told me
sharply to put the typed sheets away and let her hear or see no more of
them. Then she rose with difficulty, for the dropsy in her limbs made
her inactive, and walked with the help of a stick to the _stoep_,
where she sat down, looking across the plain at the solemn range of the
Drakensberg and thinking without doubt, of that night of fear when my
grandfather had rushed down its steeps upon the great _schimmel_ to save
her daughter and his wife from an awful death.

The stead where we lived in Natal was built under the lea of a
projecting spur of the white-topped koppie, and over that spur runs a
footpath leading to the township. Suddenly the old lady looked up and,
not twenty yards away from her, saw standing on the ridge of it, as
though in doubt which way to turn, a gentleman dressed in the kilted
uniform of an officer of a Highland regiment the like of which she had
never seen before.

"Dear Lord!" I heard her exclaim, "here is a white man wearing the
_moocha_ of a Kaffir. Suzanne! Suzanne! come and send away this
half-clad fellow."

Putting down my papers I ran from the room and at a single glance saw
that "the half-clad fellow" was none other than Ralph himself. In
my delight I lost my head, and forgetting everything except that my
betrothed was there before me, I sprang from the _stoep_ and, flying up
the little slope, I fell into his open arms. For a few seconds there was
silence, then from behind me rose a dreadful shriek followed by cries
for help. Freeing myself from Ralph's embrace, I looked round to see my
great-grandmother hobbling towards us with uplifted stick. Ralph put his
eye-glass in his eye and looked at her.

"Who is this old lady, Suzanne?" he asked.

Before I could answer there came from her lips such a torrent of
indignation as I had never heard before.

"What is she saying?" asked Ralph again, who could not understand one
word of Dutch. "She seems put out."

"It is my great-grandmother, the Vrouw Botmar," I faltered, "and she
does not understand--I have never told her."

"Ah! I see. Well, perhaps it would be as well to explain," he answered,
which I accordingly began to do as best I could, feeling more foolish
than ever I did before. As I stammered out my excuses I saw her face
change, and guessed that she was no longer listening to me.

"Who does the man remind me of?" she sai