Two weeks later Mrs. Burton was in Maritzburg, by the sick-bed of her husband. As prophesied by Wilfred, the attempt to relieve Ladysmith by storming the impregnable positions of the enemy had failed. Certainly Warren had been so successful as to have seized Spion Kop, but only to abandon it on finding the position untenable. Then Buller very wisely had fallen back on his original line of defence across the Tugela; and the retreat had been conducted in a masterly fashion, without the loss of a man or a gun. Brenda and her wounded husband had gone back also to Spearman's Camp, and later on had gone on to Maritzburg. Wilfred was left in his lonely grave under the shadow of Spion Kop, where also lay the body of Van Zwieten. Harold's wound was dangerous, but had not proved fatal. He had been invalided home by the doctors; and so soon as he might be able to travel he was to sail for England. But when that would be it was difficult to say. For some days he had hovered between life and death; but now he had turned the corner and was gradually winning his way back to life under the loving and skillful care of his wife. He was out of danger and on a fair way to recovery, but it would be many a long day before he would be able to fight again. In the meantime, Mr. Scarse, hearing that his daughter was safe and sound, had now returned from Durban, and was staying at the same hotel. He was thankful to know that at last she was to be spared the persecutions of Van Zwieten, whose death he openly rejoiced in. He was greatly astonished at the news that Wilfred had killed Malet, but he hardly censured him so severely as a Little Englander might have been expected to do in the circumstances. But, indeed, Mr. Scarse was by no means so virulent against his country now as he had been in the past. His visit to South Africa had opened his eyes to the other side of the question, particularly to the many failings of the Boers. He had learned from experience that England was not invariably wrong; that however she might blunder, she had usually right on her side. In fact, both as a father and a politician, Mr. Scarse was a reformed character. Harold was terribly distressed to hear of the death of his brother. For a long time Brenda kept the news from him, fearing its effect in his weak state. But the day came when it could no longer be withheld, and she was obliged to tell him the truth. It was a glorious tropical morning. Her father had gone out, and she was seated by her husband's bed, holding his hand in her own. His beard had grown, he was thin and haggard, but his eyes were bright and full of intelligence. He was anxious, and able now to hear all that had to be told. And she told him everything. He was amazed. "Wilfred killed Malet!" he said, hardly believing his ears. "But he had a sprained ankle on that night. It is impossible!" "His sprain was feigned to protect himself," replied Brenda, sadly; "it is all in his confession."