"How should I benefit by a trick?" Van Zwieten asked. "If I wanted to kill you I could do it now, and no one would be the wiser. The Boers here would shoot you with pleasure. But if I killed you and took Mrs. Burton, why, then, good-bye to my chance of becoming President of the Confederate States of South Africa. No, I will let you go; it suits me better. Love, as I said, must yield to ambition. But if you do not believe me, stay here. My messenger shall come at eight o'clock to-night. Follow him or not as you please. Good-bye, Mrs. Burton. You little know what it is to me to give you up; but you must say I afford you every chance of being happy with your husband." Brenda looked at him. She began to think he was acting in good faith after all. "I am not ungrateful," she said gently. "We will follow your messenger. Good-bye," and she held out her hand to him. Van Zwieten bent over it and kissed it. Then he drew himself up, looked at Harold steadfastly and turned away in silence. "Do you believe in him?" asked Brenda after a pause. "I don't know. Upon my soul, I don't know. He is such a scoundrel. I wonder you could let him kiss your hand, Brenda!" "Craft must be met by craft," she replied in a whisper. "You silly boy, you don't mean to say you are jealous of that? Can't you see that I wanted to disarm his suspicions so that we might get away safely?" "Then you don't believe in him? "No; he has some scheme in his head. Hush, it's not safe to talk about it now--when he's gone. Meanwhile, let him think we accept his offer." It would really seem as though Van Zwieten were acting straightforwardly for the first time in his life. The Boers who had been guarding the place got their rifles, saddled the horses, and, headed by Van Zwieten, took themselves off down the mountain-side, and were shortly afterward to be seen riding across the veldt in a northerly direction. Captain Burton, still suspicious, could not believe in his good fortune. With Brenda he proceeded to explore the house. It was empty. They searched the orchard, the sheep kraals, the Kaffir huts--in fact, the whole domain, but they could find no trace of a single soul. No weapons had been left, but they had the revolvers. In the stable were two horses already saddled. Harold pointed this out to his wife. "Ready, you see, for the journey!" said he. "Van Zwieten is evidently very sure that we shall accept his offer." "Well, we'll not disappoint him so far as the horses are concerned," replied Brenda; "but as to waiting for his messenger, I don't think we'll do that." "Why, Brenda, what do you mean? We don't know an inch of the country." "Probably this messenger of Van Zwieten's will know it rather too well for our liking. I don't trust the arrangement in the least. Believe me, dear, he will only lead us into some trap and we shall be prisoners again." "I don't see that Van Zwieten need have given himself the trouble to do that--we were his prisoners already."