eat him at the last and keep for myself what I
had won, the prize of Marie's love.

Such were the thoughts which passed through me, and I think that
something of the tenor of them communicated itself to Marie, who often
could read my heart before my lips spoke. At any rate, her demeanour
changed. She drew herself up. Her fine nostrils expanded and a proud
look came into her dark eyes, as she nodded her head and murmured in a
voice so low that I think I alone caught her words:

"Yes, yes, have no fear."

Pereira was speaking again (he had turned aside to strike the steel of
his tinder-box, and was now blowing the spark to a glow before lighting
his big pipe).

"By the way, Heer Allan," he said, "that is a very good mare of yours.
She seems to have done the distance between the Mission Station and
Maraisfontein in wonderful time, as, for the matter of that, the
roan did too. I have taken a fancy to her, after a gallop on her back
yesterday just to give her some exercise, and although I don't know that
she is quite up to my weight, I'll buy her."

"The mare is not for sale, Heer Pereira," I said, speaking for the first
time, "and I do not remember giving anyone leave to exercise her."

"No, your father did, or was it that ugly little beast of a Hottentot?
I forget which. As for her not being for sale--why, in this world
everything is for sale, at a price. I'll give you--let me see--oh,
what does the money matter when one has plenty? I'll give you a hundred
English pounds for that mare; and don't you think me a fool. I tell you
I mean to get it back, and more, at the great races down in the south.
Now what do you say?"

"I say that the mare is not for sale, Heer Pereira." Then a thought
struck me, or an inspiration, and, as has always been my fashion, I
acted on it at once. "But," I added slowly, "if you like, when I am a
bit stronger I'll shoot you a match for her, you staking your hundred
pounds and I staking the mare."

Pereira burst out laughing.

"Here, friends," he called to some of the Boers who were strolling up
to the house for their morning coffee. "This little Englishman wants to
shoot a match with me, staking that fine mare of his against a hundred
pounds British; against me, Hernando Pereira, who have won every prize
at shooting that ever I entered for. No, no, friend Allan, I am not a
thief, I will not rob you of your mare."

Now among those Boers chanced to be the celebrated Heer Pieter Retief,
a