ced two
stooping figures in khaki, moving forward cautiously and then making
sudden dashes at some object, invisible to the girl. She watched them
intently, wondering who the intruders were and what their game could
be, until they came so near that she was able to distinguish what it
was they nourished in their hands. Butterfly nets!

A pair of harmless Tommies, spending their Sunday morning in catching
butterflies and the other insects of which there abounded so large a
variety at that time of the year.

They did not catch sight of the girl until Carlo sprang up barking
furiously, and then they started back in consternation and surprise.

"Lie down, Carlo," Hansie commanded sharply. "Good morning," to the
men.

"Good morning, miss," respectfully; "I hope we are not intrudin'."

"Certainly not. Are you catching butterflies? Show me what you have
got."

The men produced their spoil with pride.

"Will you have some grapes?" Hansie asked, handing the basket to one
of them, who helped himself gratefully and then passed it on to his
comrade. The latter, evidently not of a very sociable disposition,
took a bunch and walked off in pursuit of more butterflies.

The first soldier, however, squatted down on the ground at some little
distance from the girl and began to talk, as he ate the grapes with
great relish. At this point Carlo raised himself with the utmost
deliberation, yawned, stretched himself, and sauntering (I cannot call
it anything except _sauntering_) slowly towards his mistress, laid his
full length on the ground between her and the Tommy. Then he went
sound asleep to all appearances, but his mistress observed that when
the soldier made the slightest movement, the dog's ears twitched or an
eyelid quivered.

Slowly eating his grapes, the man glanced curiously at the book on
Hansie's lap.

"Are you sketchin', miss?" he asked.

"No; writing."

"Poetry?"

There was no answer.

"I am one of Lord Kitchener's body-guard," he went on presently. "We
are encamped near Berea Park on the other side of your fence. We were
in Middelburg last week and I saw one of the Boer Generals, General
Botha."

Hansie's heart bounded. She looked at the man incredulously.

"Indeed! How was that possible?"

"Quite simple, miss. Lord Kitchener invited the General into town to
have an interview with him. His brother--I think his name is
Christian--came with him. I acted as their orderly."

"Tell me more, tell me everyth