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But the wagon was almost as good as ever it had been, almost as good as when it used to be the envy of the field-cornet's neighbours, the boers of Graaf Reinet. Nothing was broken. Everything was in its place, "voor-kist," and "achter-kist," and side-chests.
Von Bloom escaped by flight; but his fine property in the Graaf Reinet was confiscated and given to another. Many years after we find him living in a remote district beyond the great Orange River, leading the life of a "trek-boor," that is, a nomade farmer, who has no fixed or permanent abode, but moves with his flocks from place to place, wherever good pastures and water may tempt him.
"He has forty thousand a year." "I don't think money would tempt Sarah to marry a man she did not love," said Lady Mary, reproachfully. "There was Mr. Van Graaf, the African millionaire. She wouldn't look at him, and he offered to settle untold sums upon her." "Did he? What a brute!" "Why?" "Never mind. You've not seen him. I'm glad he found Sarah wasn't for sale.
But this was no longer an object of solicitude with Von Bloom. Other considerations now occupied his mind, and he did not care much if he should never spoor another of these huge quadrupeds. To return to the Graaf Reinet, and settle there, was now the ultimatum of his wishes.
A little extra exertion on the part of his horse might place him in advance of the three giraffes; and he might drive them back to the river. "Yes," exclaimed he, nearly frantic with the fear of losing what seemed so nearly gained. "If I cannot catch this young giraffe, I can drive it. I'll drive it to Graaf Reinet. It shall not escape me!"
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