Next morning, shortly after sunrise, the contractor arrived to take delivery of the stock. So he and Carhayes were extremely busy, the latter too much so to be able to afford more than an off-hand and hurried farewell to his wife. But the same held not good of his cousin and partner. Indeed one would think that Eustace had no concern whatever in the sale for all the interest he took in it. Far more concerned was he to ensure that Eanswyth had every conceivable thing that might conduce to her comfort and convenience during her journeying to and sojourn in the settlement, than to satisfy himself that Contractor Reid, a canny Scot and a knowing file at a deal, should be allowed no loop-hole for climbing down from or getting behind his bargain. "I say, Milne," cried Hoste, while the horses were being inspanned. "It's rather slow work riding by one's self. Let's span in my horse as a leader, and drive unicorn. There's room for my saddle if we tie it on behind--and I can get in the cart with you. More sociable like. See?" But Eustace didn't see, or rather didn't want to see. This was clearly a case of "two's company, three's a crowd." Equally clearly was it a case wherein the third might be excused for omitting to apply the maxim. "There's a goodish weight in the trap already," he replied dubiously. But Eanswyth struck in: "We can make room for you, Mr Hoste. Certainly. And if we have the additional pull of your horse it will neutralise the additional weight." Eustace said nothing. If Eanswyth's mood had undergone something of a change since last night, that was only natural, he allowed. The arrangement was not to his liking. But then, of most arrangements in this tiresome world the same held good. With which reflection, being a philosopher, he consoled himself. There was not much sign of the disturbed state of the country during the first part of the drive. But later, as they drew nearer the settlement, an abandoned homestead--standing silent and deserted, its kraals empty and the place devoid of life, or a trek of sheep and cattle raising a cloud of dust in the distance, together with a waggon or two loaded with the families and household goods of those, like themselves, hastening from their more or less isolated positions to seek safety in numbers, spoke eloquently and with meaning. Now and again a small group of Kafirs would pass them on the road, and although unarmed, save for their ordinary kerries, there seemed a world of grim meaning in each dark face, a menace in the bold stare which did duty for the ordinarily civil, good-humoured greeting, as if the savages knew that their time was coming now.