"It's this way," he went on. "I'm as certain of it as if I'd seen it. Them oxen were nothin' more or less than a trap. The Kafirs had been watching the poor devils all along and jest sent the oxen as a bait to draw them across the river. It's jest what might have been expected, but I'm surprised they hadn't more sense than to be took so easily. Hoste and Payne especially--not being a couple of Britishers--" "Here, I say, governor--stow all that for a yarn," growled one of a brace of fresh-faced young Police troopers, who were consuming a modest "split" at a table and resented what they thought was an imputation. "Well, I don't mean no offence," returned the old fellow testily. "I only mean that Britishers ain't got the experience us Colonial chaps has, and 'll go runnin' their heads into a trap where we should know better." "All the more credit to their pluck," interrupted another patriotically disposed individual. "Oh, shut up, Smith. Who the deuce is saying anything against their pluck?" cried someone else. "Well, I'm sure I wasn't," went on the original speaker. "Tom Carhayes, now, is as plucky a fellow as ever lived--was, rather--and--" "You don't call Tom Carhayes a Britisher, do you?" objected another man. "Yes, I do. At least, perhaps not altogether. He's been here a good number of years now and got into our ways. Still, I remember when he first came out. And Milne only came out the other day." "Well, Milne's `blanket friends' have paid him off in a coin he didn't bargain for. Wonder what he thinks of 'em now--if he _can_ think," said someone, with an ill-natured sneer--for Eustace, like most men with any character in them, was not beloved by everybody. "Ah, poor chap," went on the old man. "Milne was rather too fond of the Kafirs and Carhayes was a sight too much down on 'em. And now the Kafirs have done for them both, without fear, favour, or--" "Tsh--tsh--tsh! Shut up, man alive, shut up!" This was said in a low, warning whisper, and the speaker's sleeve was violently plucked. "Eh? What's the row?" he asked, turning in amazement. "Why, that's her!" was the reply, more earnest than grammatical. "Her? Who?" "His wife, of course." A Cape cart was driving by, containing two ladies and two young girls. Of the former one was Mrs Hoste, the other Eanswyth. As they passed quite close to the speakers, Eanswyth turned her head with a bow and a smile to someone standing in front of the hotel. A dead, awkward silence fell upon the group of talkers. "I say. She didn't hear, did she?" stage-whispered the old man eagerly, when the trap had gone by. "She didn't look much as though she had--poor thing!" said another whom the serene, radiant happiness shining in that sweet face had not escaped.