It must be conceded that the racing was poor, but then, so for the most part were the horses, thanks to the protracted drought and the necessity of their training consisting of the process of earning their keep. But the day was lovely--cloudless and golden--and the heat rose in a shimmer from the mimosa-dotted veldt and the dark, bushy slope of Ehlatini lining up to the vivid depths of heaven's blue. A sort of impromptu grand stand had been effected by placing chairs and benches along a couple of empty waggons, and at the corner of one of these Clare sat-- still holding her court--while her fervid worshippers talked up to her from the ground. The luncheon hour was over--so, too, were the races, but the afternoon would be devoted to tent-pegging and other sports. "Hallo!" said one of the favoured group. "Blest if that isn't Lamont over there, and--he's got his coat on." "Where else should he have it, Mr Wyndham?" said the girl mischievously. "He shouldn't have it at all. You know, Miss Vidal, it's an unwritten rule up here that none of us wear coats." "But I notice that you are all mighty particular about your collars and ties," laughed Clare. "'M--yes. But wearing a coat stamps you as a new-comer. Even Ancram here has fallen into our way." Ancram had, and moreover mightily fancied himself accordingly; and had turned on an additional swagger which he flattered himself still further marked him out as the complete pioneer. He had been introduced to Clare, but inwardly raged at the marked coldness in her demeanour towards himself. It was no imagination, he was satisfied, her frank sunniness of manner towards everybody else placed that beyond a doubt. Others had remarked on it too. "What have you been doing to Miss Vidal, old chap?" one of his newly-found friends inquired. "She seems to have a down on you." And Ancram had replied that he was hanged if he knew. "Why, he's missed all the races," went on the first speaker, referring to Lamont. "He's looking a bit seedy too. And--no, he hasn't. He hasn't got on his revolver." "That's rum, for he never moves without it," said another. "We chaff him a bit about that, Miss Vidal, but he says he prefers being on the safe side." "Lamont would prefer that," said Ancram significantly. "Haven't you just been stopping with him?" said Clare rather sharply, turning on the speaker. "He's a friend of yours, isn't he?" "Um--ah--yes, yes. Of course," was the somewhat confused reply. "I'm not sure Mr Lamont isn't right," she went on for the benefit of the rest. "This is a country full of savages, and savages are often treacherous. Aren't they, Mr Driffield?" "Aren't who, and what, Miss Vidal?" replied the Native Commissioner, who was in the act of joining the group. She repeated her remark. "Oh yes. You'll get Ancram to agree with you on that head," he added significantly. "There!" she cried triumphantly.