On arriving at the station, I had over a mile to walk to the little fishing village where I had been born, and never did a mile appear so long to me. I know I began first to run, then to walk very slowly; for the thought came across me that many things might have happened during the two years I had been absent. How did I know but that one of my children--perhaps, oh heaven, Katie--might be dead! That maddening thought put quicksilver in my heels, and I hastened on till near my destination, when I again slackened my steps to a more respectable pace. The sun was just setting, casting a last red fiery kiss upon the crests of the waves, breaking gently on the shore, and on the rocks and humble tiled roofs, as, with a beating heart, I went down the one long straggling street of the village ending on the beach. It was the hour of the evening meal, and few of the inmates were about; yet here and there two or three groups of fishermen were standing talking and smoking, or mending their nets--they and the whole scene seeming strange to me after my fifteen months' sojourn among the Kaffirs. Most of the men comprising these groups were old acquaintances; yet they regarded me curiously as a stranger, so disguised was I by my long thick beard and bronzed face. I had thus passed along without attracting much notice until, as I reached about the centre of the street, a man--a thoroughly weather-beaten grizzled old fisherman, with a grey eye as keen as an eagle's--suddenly starting from a group to waylay me, exclaimed with a shout-- "My eyes and marlin-spikes, but its Dick Galbraith or his ghost!" The words were like a spark to a barrel of gunpowder--the news flew through the village--so, warmly grasping the old seaman's hand, I said hurriedly-- "Not his ghost, Parker, but himself: come down this evening, and bring two or three of the old acquaintances with you, and I'll tell you all about it; but I'm now anxious to see my wife, and break the news of my return to her myself." "That's right. She's still in the same cottage on the rock side, Dick, my hearty, and my eyes, won't she just be ready to jump out of her skin for joy at seeing you." With a happy smile and nod, I ran hastily on, for I feared the news might reach my wife before I could get there. The next moment the well-known cottage, so often recalled in Caffraria, rose up before me in reality. Yes, there was its weather-beaten old shingle front, there were the little loop-hole windows, and there was the small white swing gate leading into the patch of garden ground. Breathlessly I passed through the latter and peeped in at the cottage door, which stood ajar.