"It is _not_ to be. The `word' is No! Unmistakably and distinctly No. You understand, Hlangani?" "_Au_! As you will, Ixeshane," replied the Kafir, with an expressive shrug of his shoulders. "See. You wear a `charm'," referring to a curious coin which Eustace wore hanging from his watch-chain. "If you change your mind send over the `charm' to me at Nteya's kraal this night--it shall be returned. But after to-night it may be too late. Farewell." And flinging his blanket over his shoulder the savage turned and strode away into the _veldt_--Eustace purposely omitting to offer him a little tobacco, lest this ordinary token of good will should be construed into a sort of earnest of the dark and terrible bargain which Hlangani had proposed to him--by mere hints it is true--but still had none the less surely proposed. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. "...AND THE WORLD IS CHANGED." They stood for some moments watching the receding figure of the Kafir in silence. Eanswyth was the first to break it. "What have you been talking about all this time, Eustace? Is it any new danger that threatens us?" "N-no. Rather the reverse if anything," and his features cleared up as if to bear out the truth of his words. "I don't see, though, why you shouldn't know it. That's the man we fell foul of in the _veldt_ yesterday--you remember the affair of the white dog?" "Oh!" and Eanswyth turned very pale. "Now don't be alarmed, dearest. I believe he only loafed round here to try and collect some compensation." "Is that really all, Eustace?" she went on anxiously. "You seemed very much disturbed, dear. I don't think I ever saw you look so thoroughly disturbed." There was no perturbation left in his glance now. He took her face lovingly between his hands and kissed it again and again. "Did you not, my sweet? Well, perhaps there has never existed such ground for it. Perhaps I have never met with so inopportune an interruption. But now, cheer up. We must make the most of this day, for a sort of instinct tells me that it is the last we shall have to ourselves, at any rate for some time to come. And now what shall we do with ourselves? Shall we go back to the house or sit here a little while and talk?" Eanswyth was in favour of the latter plan. And, seated there in the shade of a great acacia, the rich summer morning sped by in a golden dream. The fair panorama of distant hills and wooded kloofs; the radiant sunlight upon the wide sweep of mimosa-dotted plains, shimmering into many a fantastic mirage in the glowing heat; the call of bird voices in the adjacent brake, and the continuous chirrup of crickets; the full, warm glow of the sensuous air, rich, permeating, life-giving; here indeed was a very Eden. Thus the golden morning sped swiftly by.