Tarrant pricked up his ears at this. He had not done much to improve the shining hour with Nidia during that long, cool, lazy morning. He had confined himself to observing her, now and then putting in a word or two, but not often. But he had plans. And now the farewells became general, all talking at once, as people will on such occasions; for the whole household had turned out to see them off. Suddenly Hollingworth said:-- "You've forgotten your rifle, Tarrant. Never mind; don't get down"--for the other was already mounted. "I'll get it for you. Which corner did you leave it in?" "Didn't leave it. Mafuta's gone on ahead with it." "Oh! No chance of him clearing with it, eh?" said Hollingworth. "No; he's a reliable boy. Had him a long time. He's quite safe." Thus in that lurid March of '96 did the settlers in Matabeleland rejoice in their security. "You put that on rather well, old man," said Tarrant, as the two rode along. "What did I put on?" "Oh, the surprise part of the business. Now I see why you were so desperately bent on fetching up at Hollingworth's." "Smart boy, Dibs. See through a brick wall, and all that sort of thing," replied Moseley, good-humouredly. "This time you've seen through too far, though. I had no more notion Miss Commerell was there than you had, or even that she was in the country at all. Nice girl, isn't she?" "Ye-es. I was studying her rather closely. She's either the most consummate actress or the most out of the ordinary sample of her sex I've encountered for a long, long time, if ever." "Well, she's the last, then. If there's one thing about Nidia Commerell that appeals to me it is that she's so perfectly natural, and therefore, of course, unconventional." "Oh, she does `appeal' to you, then? I rather thought she did," said Tarrant, serenely. "But you've no show, old man. It's the other Johnny--what's his name--" "--Ames." "--Yes. He seems to have got the floor just now." "As to the first--skittles; as to the last--why do you think so?" "Didn't I tell you I was studying her rather closely? When you first mentioned--er--Ames, she just, ever so little, overdid it. You may rely upon it that joker made his hay while the sun shone." Moseley burst into a great contemptuous laugh. "Oh, bosh, Dibs! You've got the keenest nose for a mare's nest I ever saw. I tell you that's Miss Commerell's way. If she likes any one she doesn't in the least mind saying so. That alone shows there's nothing deeper in it." "Her way, is it? Oh, well, then, so much the worse for--er--Ames." The while those they had just left were comparing opinions upon them. "That friend of Mr Moseley's seems a very quiet man," Mrs Hollingworth was saying. "Who is he, George?" "Never saw him before in my life. In the same line of business, I take it. His `quietness,' though, seemed to me to cover a suspicion of `side.' Sort of `know everything' manner."