Never so dead--never so empty--as this evening. Never since the first moment of receiving the awful news has she felt so utterly crushed, so soul-weary as here to-night. "How was it all to end?" had been their oft-spoken thought--here on this very spot. The answer had come now. Death had supplied it. But--how was _this_ to end? The glories of departing day were breaking forth into ever varying splendours. The spurs of the mountain range, now green, now gold, assumed a rich purple against the flaming red of the sky. The deepening afterglow flushed and quivered, as the scintillating eyes of heaven sprang forth into the arching vault--not one by one, but in whole groups. Then the pearly shades of twilight and the cool, moist fragrance of the falling night. Why was the earth so wondrously lovely--why should eyes rest upon such semi-divine splendour while the heart was aching and bursting? was the unspoken cry that went up from that heart-weary mourner standing there alone gazing forth into the depths of the star-gemmed night. Stay! What is that tongue of flame suddenly leaping forth into the darkness? Another and another--and lo! by magic, from a score of lofty heights, red fires are gushing upward into the black and velvety gloom, and as the ominous beacons gather in flaming volume roaring up to a great height, the lurid glow of the dark firmament is reflected dully upon the slumbering plains. A weird, far-away chorus floats upon the stillness, now rising, now falling. Its boding import there is no mistaking. It is the gathering cry of a barbarian host. The Gaika location is up in arms. Heavens! What is to become of this delicate woman here, alone and unprotected, exposed to the full brunt of a savage rising--and all that it means? Eanswyth is standing on the _stoep_, her eyes fixed upon the appalling phenomenon, but in their glance is no shadow of fear. Death has no terrors for her now; at peril she can afford to laugh. Her lips are even curving into a sweet, sad smile. "Just as it was that night," she exclaims. "The parallel is complete. Blaze on red signals of death--and when destruction does break forth let it begin with me! I will wait for it, welcome it, for I walk in shadow now--will welcome it here on this spot where we stood that sweet and blessed night--here where our hearts first met--here where mine is breaking now!" Her voice dies away in a sob. She sinks to the ground. The distant glare of the war-fires of the savages falls fully upon that prostrate figure lying there in the abandonment of woe. It lights up a very sacrifice. The rough stones of the _stoep_ are those of an altar--the sacrifice a broken heart. "Here is where we stood that night together," she murmurs, pressing her lips to the hard, cold stones. "It is just as it was then. Oh, my love--my love, come back to me! Come back--even from the cold grave!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Eanswyth!"