But the day was with them now--idyllic, blissful--never to be forgotten as long as they two should live. Alas, that it fled! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tom Carhayes returned that evening in high good humour. He was accompanied by another man, a neighbouring settler of the name of Hoste, a pleasant, cheery fellow, who was a frequent visitor at Anta's Kloof. "Well, Mrs Carhayes," cried the latter, flinging his right leg over his horse's neck and sliding to the ground side-saddle fashion, "your husband has been pretty well selling up the establishment to-day. What do you think of that? Hallo, Milne. How 'do?" "I've made a good shot this time," assented Carhayes, "I've sold off nearly three thousand of the sheep to Reid, the contractor, at a pound a head all round. What do you think of that, Eustace? And a hundred and thirty cattle, too, heifers and slaughter stock." "H'm! Well, you know best," said Eustace. "But why this wholesale clearance, Tom?" "Why? Why, man, haven't you heard? No, of course he hasn't. War! That's why. War, by the living Jingo! It's begun. Our fellows are over the Kei already, peppering the niggers like two o'clock." "Or being peppered by them--which so far seems to be the more likely side of the question," struck in Hoste. "A report came into Komgha to-day that there had been a fight, and the Police had been licked. Anyhow, a lot more have been moved across the river." "Wait till _we_ get among them," chuckled Carhayes. "Eh, Hoste? We'll pay off some old scores on Jack Kafir's hide. By the Lord, won't we?" "_Ja_. That's so. By-the-by, Mrs Carhayes, I mustn't forget my errand. The wife has picked up a cottage in Komgha, and particularly wants you to join her. She was lucky in getting it, for by now every hole or shanty in the village is full up. There are more waggons than houses as it is, and a lot of fellows are in tents. They are going to make a big _laager_ of the place." Eanswyth looked startled. "Are things as bad as all that?" she said. "They just are," answered Hoste. "You can't go on staying here. It isn't safe--is it, Carhayes? Everyone round here is trekking, or have already trekked. I met George Payne in Komgha to-day. Even he had cleared out from Fountains Gap, and there's no fellow laughs at the scare like he does." "Hoste is right, Eanswyth," said Carhayes. "So you'd better roll up your traps and go back with him to-morrow. I can't go with you, because Reid is coming over to take delivery of the stock. Eustace might drive you over, if he don't mind." Eustace did _not_ mind--of that we may be sure. But although no glance passed between Eanswyth and himself, both were thinking the same thing. To the mind of each came back the words of that morning: "_A sort of instinct tells me it is the last day we shall have to ourselves for some time to come_!" And it would be.