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It was the bitterest winter in these parts within the memory of man, said he, and he himself had not seen snow there for five years. Then he settled the three travellers in the great roomy touring car covered with a Cape-cart hood, wrapped them up in many rugs and started.
Long before daylight, the noise of the oxen and clank of trek-chain told that inspanning was begun, and those of us who were to form the wagon party sprang out of bed and made a hurried toilet, while the Kafir women carried off the feather-beds and blankets, to stow in their allotted places in the wagon. Mr. Gilbert and his wife, with the younger children, were to follow in a four-horse Cape-cart.
He kept his horse at an easy walk, and talked to me as if we were two friends out for a trip together. Perhaps he had talked thus to Arcoll, the half-caste who drove his Cape-cart. The wooded bluff above Machudi's glen showed far in front. He told me the story of the Machudi war, which I knew already, but he told it as a saga.
The first moment that her lips had parted to the sound since Janet had been with her. "It's true," said Janet. "I'm not making it up. He got that car allowing for his trade discount for a hundred and thirty-five pounds cape-cart hood and all.
After many dusty miles by rail, and a weariful journey in a Cape-cart through arid plains and dry and stony gorges, I had come suddenly into a haven of green. The Spring of the Blue Wildebeeste was a clear rushing mountain torrent, which swirled over blue rocks into deep fern-fringed pools. All around was a tableland of lush grass with marigolds and arum lilies instead of daisies and buttercups.
I am pretty good at disguises, and he never knew who was the broken-down old Kaffir who squatted in the dirt at the edge of the crowd when he spoke, or the half-caste who called him "Sir" and drove his Cape-cart. I had some queer adventures, but these can wait. The gist of the thing is, that after six months which turned my hair grey I got a glimmering of what he was after.
The Colonel looked at Stafford in surprise: but Stafford was not thinking of the coin. As the cape-cart conveying Jasmine to the hospital moved away from the station, she settled down into the seat beside the driver with the helplessness of one who had received a numbing blow.
Round the door lay a few old ploughs and empty barrels, and beneath a solitary blue gum was a wooden bench with a rough table. Native children played in the dust, and an old Kaffir squatted by the wall. My few belongings were soon lifted from the Cape-cart, and I entered the shop.
She found the attendant who had given her the letter, and asked if the messenger was waiting, and was only then informed that he had been gone three hours or more. Three hours or more! It might be that Rudyard was gone forever without hearing what she had to say, or knowing whether she desired reconciliation and peace. She at once gave orders for a cape-cart to take her over to Brinkwort's Farm.
Doyne scrambled from the confusion of rugs and limbs and, tearing open the side of the Cape-cart hood, jumped out. The chauffeur had also just leaped from his seat. It was pitch dark save for the great shaft of light down the snowy road cast by the acetylene lamps. The snow had ceased falling. "What's gone wrong?" "It sounds like the axle," said the chauffeur ruefully.
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