"Boer and Briton!" he said, and laughed quietly... "Boer and Briton! I would merge such distinctions in the comprehensive title of South African. To us--to you and to me--this land belongs by virtue of the reason that we live by it, and are willing to defend it with our lives. The land is our inheritance. Imperial claims concern me very little. A man who has a life's lease of his homestead doesn't take much account of the landlord. You haven't come yet to feel that way?" "No. I don't suppose an Englishman ever does." Matheson glanced at his watch. "I'll have to be going," he said, and laughed a little consciously. "I've an engagement for three, and am overdue now." He stood up. Nel rose with him. For a second or so they remained still in the path steadily regarding one another. "I'm going to be married," Matheson said abruptly--"in three weeks' time." "Yes!" Nel's gaze was searching. "I'm glad to hear it, Mr Matheson," he said. "You are more fortunate than I. Is she English?" "Yes... born out here. I hope some day you'll meet her. But to-morrow I leave, as you know." "You are going to Benfontein?" Nel's tone was discouraging. Matheson answered in the affirmative. "Well, don't forget," the Dutchman added cautiously, "that your life is of infinitely greater value to the country than Holman's death could be. It will be a desperate man you face, remember. Take care of yourself." "Yes; I'll do that," Matheson assured him, and held out his hand. Nel grasped it. "You'll find the rondavel open and provisioned," he said. "You may have a use for it." CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. On parting from Nel, Matheson started to walk briskly, aware that already he was some minutes late for his appointment. It was the first occasion on which he had kept his fiancee waiting. He did not anticipate that she would be vexed; the delay had been unavoidable, and the meeting with Nel had saved him an unprofitable journey. A knowledge of Holman's whereabouts simplified his quest and would economise time, which was an important factor; the settlement of this business had to be accomplished while he was free to attend to private matters. In his hurried walk he overtook the Aplin girls, very gay and important, bedecked with tricolour ribbons and wearing the Union Jack badges in their hats. They were frightfully busy, they informed him, collecting for Christmas parcels for the troops. It was great sport, begging, but desperately tiring. "One likes to feel that one is helping," Rosie explained. Their manner towards him was more gracious than it had appeared of late. On the few occasions when they had met since his engagement they had contrived to convey a sense of aggrieved disapproval, and had pointedly refrained from offering him their congratulations on his forthcoming marriage. They never referred to Brenda.