"Well, it seems to me that we are in for a nice little campaign. It is to be hoped your friend Gillespie has started for the farm. I don’t like to think of it being left." "Let’s see. He must just about have got my letter, I should think. I don’t feel very anxious. We had no troubles except from lions and Juma, and the chief will lend a hand if any wandering tribe turns up, which isn’t likely. No, Charley; the difficulty’s here: and upon my word it looks as if we’ve got a campaign on our hands, as you say. However, here we are! There’s the fort, and we’ve got to hold it, my boy." "Right ho! I only hope it won’t be another Ladysmith." "Can’t possibly. Our food won’t last a week." "Oh!" said Ferrier. CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH--John’s Letter In the comfortable dining-room of Mr. Gillespie’s bungalow a merry party was assembled. At the right hand of Mr. Gillespie sat a handsome, well-preserved lady, who was fifty and looked forty-five. At the other end of the table, beside the hostess, was our friend Mr. Halliday, fresh and florid, evidently in the best of health. His neighbour on the right was a slim young girl in black; hers was a tall, well-set-up young man of twenty-five. Opposite these two, in due sequence, were a girl who might have been seventeen, and a youth a year or two older, so much like her that no one could have doubted they were brother and sister. Laughter rang round the table; everybody seemed at the top of cheerfulness, except the girl in black. Even she smiled at a remark addressed to her by Mr. Halliday. There was a pause in the conversation as they devoted themselves to the sweets, which included a wonderful confection of native pine-apples. Then the lady next to Mr. Gillespie, in slow level tones, and with the clear enunciation and scarcely perceptible burr of an educated Scotswoman, said-- "He’s a dear boy, I’m sure. We could read so well between the lines of his letters that he thought me a very designing woman----" "A Delilah, Cousin Sylvia," said Mr. Halliday. "You’d be the better for having your hair cut, Cousin David. I shouldn’t allude to such a personal matter if I didn’t hope that Mrs. Gillespie would back me up. _I’ve_ done my best to improve you, and failed; perhaps public opinion will do some good." "Don’t worry, Mrs. Burtenshaw," said Mr. Gillespie. "He’ll get a thorough crop before he goes up country, where barbers are unknown." "But it won’t matter then, where there’s no one to see him.... It was plain John thought his father would marry me----" "The other way about, cousin," Mr. Halliday interposed. "He wouldn’t suspect me of all men of fortune hunting."