that's where you and others sometimes go wrong. There's nothing of
the barbarian about these bushmen. Physically, they're as fine a type as
we are--I might go farther--straight in the limb, clean-lined every way,
square in the shoulder. They'd make an impression at any London
gathering."

"So long as they didn't speak?"

"It wouldn't matter. Allowing for a few colloquialisms, they're worth
listening to; which is more than I'd care to say for a number of the
people one meets in this country."

Millicent laughed.

"Well, I'll be glad to see him when he comes." Her voice grew graver. "I
feel grateful to him already for what he told you about George."

They went in together and half an hour later Nasmyth walked home across
the moor. He had never thought more highly of Millicent, but somehow he
now felt sorry for her. It scarcely seemed fitting that she should live
in that lonely spot with only the company of an elderly and staid
companion, though he hardly thought she would be happier if she plunged
into a round of purposeless amusements in the cities. Still, she was
young and very attractive; he felt that she should have more than the
thinly-peopled countryside had to offer.

CHAPTER VII

ON THE MOORS

Nearly a year had passed since Nasmyth's return when Lisle at length
reached England. Soon after his arrival, he was, as Nasmyth's guest,
invited to join a shooting party, and one bright afternoon he stood
behind a bank of sods high on a grouse-moor overlooking the wastes of the
Border. The heath was stained with the bell-heather's regal purple,
interspersed with the vivid red of the more fragile ling, and where the
uplands sloped away broad blotches of the same rich colors checkered the
grass. In the foreground a river gleamed athwart the picture, and
overhead there stretched an arch of cloudless blue. There was no wind;
the day was still and hot.

A young lad whose sunburned face already bore the stamp of self-indulgence
was stationed behind the butt with Lisle, and the latter was not favorably
impressed with his appearance or conversation.

"Look out," he cautioned by and by. "You were a little slow last time.
They travel pretty fast."

Lisle picked up his gun; he had used one in the West, though he was more
accustomed to the rifle. Cutting clear against the dazzling sky, a
straggling line of dark specks was moving toward him, and a series of
sharp cracks broke out from the farther wing of the row of