After that there had been unbroken silence between them, and she lost sight of him for many years. During those years, in the lonely watches of the night, she had often lain awake thinking of him, wondering about him; and her conscience had reproached her for throwing that undisciplined nature back upon itself. When, unexpectedly, under the will of an eccentric relative she inherited a comfortable fortune she determined to follow after him. She had heard from her cousin in Cape Town that Lawless was in Africa; and so she came to Africa to find him, with some vague idea in her mind that they might possibly pick up the dropped strands of their lives and interwind them anew. She had earnestly desired this until she met him. When they met she realised how vain had been her hope. And now it was all over... There remained only the bitterness of the empty years. When they reached Kraaifontein, and the Colonel got out of the train and turned to offer her assistance, she hung back, white and nervous, and caught at the luggage bracket as though to save herself from falling. He took her by the arm and assisted her on to the platform. "In a little while," he said, with a view to encouraging her, "you will be smiling at your fears. Come now! be brave." He left her for a moment on the platform while he went to speak to an official. When he returned he endeavoured without success to mask his gravity behind a reassuring smile. "We'll walk," he said, "it's close here. I've arranged about the luggage." She looked at him swiftly. "You've heard something," she said. "Nothing definite," he answered,--"and nothing very alarming. There is a visitor at the hotel who has met with an accident. That tells us little, but at least it proves he is not dead." She took his arm and they started to walk. "If he's only slightly hurt," she said, as they proceeded, "I'll go back again. It would only anger him, my being here. But if he's too ill to notice--then surely I may stay? ... You don't think that I should do him harm by staying, then?" Tears suddenly rose in her eyes, her voice broke. "Oh! I'm so afraid," she whispered. "Afraid most of all of his coldness." "I think," he said gently, "you may rest assured he can only feel grateful to you for your consideration." But notwithstanding his words of comfort she grew more nervous with every step they advanced. Death she could have faced, and faced bravely; she had had to face worse things than that; but the thought of his further coldness--his displeasure, perhaps, at being followed-- completely unnerved her.