The Boers, who ostensibly had come to the kloof to see the shooting match, although, in fact, for a very different purpose, now began to disperse. Some of them rode straight away, while some went to wagons which they had outspanned at a distance, and trekked off to their separate homes. I am glad to say that before they left quite a number of the best of them came up and congratulated me both on the defence of Maraisfontein and on my shooting. Also not a few expressed their views concerning Pereira in very straightforward language. Now, the arrangement was that my father and I were to sleep that night at Marais’s stead, returning home on the following morning. But my father, who had been a silent but not unobservant witness of all this scene, coming to the conclusion that after what had happened we should scarcely be welcome there, and that the company of Pereira was to be avoided just now, went up to Marais and bade him farewell, saying that we would send for my mare. “Not so, not so,” he answered, “you are my guests to-night. Also, fear not, Hernan will be away. He has gone a journey upon some business.” As my father hesitated, Marais added: “Friend, I pray you to come, for I have some important words to say to you, which cannot be said here.” Then my father gave way, to my delight and relief. For if he had not, what chance would there have been of my getting some still more important words with Marie? So having collected the geese and the two falcons, which I proposed to skin for Marie, I was helped into the cart, and we drove off, reaching Maraisfontein just as night set in. That evening, after we had eaten, Heer Marais asked my father and myself to speak with him in the sitting-room. By an afterthought also, or so it seemed to me, he told his daughter, who had been clearing away the dishes and with whom as yet I had found no opportunity to talk, to come in with us and close the door behind her. When all were seated and we men had lit our pipes, though apprehension of what was to follow quite took away my taste for smoking, Marais spoke in English, which he knew to a certain extent. This was for the benefit of my father, who made it a point of honour not to understand Dutch, although he would answer Marais in that language when _he_ pretended not to understand English. To me he spoke in Dutch, and occasionally in French to Marie. It was a most curious and polyglot conversation. “Young Allan,” he said, “and you, daughter Marie, I have heard stories concerning you that, although I never gave you leave to _opsit_” (that is, to sit up alone at night with candles, according to the Boer fashion between those who are courting), “you have been making love to each other.” “That is true, mynheer,” I said. “I only waited an opportunity to tell you that we plighted our troth during the attack of the Quabies on this house.”