It was Stratford and Fitz to whom fell the task of riding out to the King’s garden and selecting the site of the first Christian cemetery in Ethiopia. They chose a spot on the border of the estate, which could be easily marked off from the rest, and the official who had accompanied them gave the necessary orders to the workmen. The funeral was to take place in the late afternoon, and there was need for haste. Fitz and Stratford had ridden out almost in silence; but as they mounted their horses for the return journey to Kubbet-ul-Haj, Fitz looked back at the garden and shuddered. “I wonder how many of us will lie there before this business is over!” he said, only to be annihilated by Stratford’s reply-- “Shut up, you young fool, and don’t croak. Your business is to obey orders, and not to wonder.” The boy relapsed into sulky silence at once, and brooded all the way home over the disgusting state of Stratford’s temper, never guessing that it was with this very end in view, of detaching his thoughts from the tragedy of the morning, that the rebuke had been administered to him. In the courtyard of the Mission they found Dick engaged in superintending the preparations for the funeral, and Stratford noticed at once that among the riding-horses, which were those presented by the King a few days before, there were two hired mules carrying a curtained litter. “Surely the ladies are not going?” he said to Dick. “They are, indeed. Lady Haigh declared that she could never face the doctor’s mother if she was unable to tell her in what kind of place he was buried, and what the funeral was like, and it struck the Chief that it was just possible they might be safer with us than left behind here under Kustendjian’s charge. Our force is none too large now, you know.”