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Long days in the saddle were followed by sleepless nights; the shadow never came out of Weldon's eyes, the alertness never came back into his step. Lean, gaunt as a greyhound, he went about his work with a silent, dogged endurance which took no note of the other life about him.
"That is the one compliment I most value, Miss Dent." "See that you continue to live up to it, Mr. Weldon." For an instant, they faced each other, a merry boy and girl. Then Weldon's lips straightened resolutely, and he bowed. "I will do my best," he answered slowly. Half an hour later, he joined her at the gangway and took forcible possession of her hand luggage.
Weldon must try to arrange her existence in such a manner as to pass the time of her sojourn at Kazounde as happily as possible. Under the most favorable circumstances, it would last three or four months. Negoro's going and returning would require at least that time. Mrs. Weldon's intention was, not to leave the factory. Her child, Cousin Benedict, and she, were comparatively safe there.
Then another man in khaki dropped at their feet. The lines of Weldon's mouth straightened. "No go," he said briefly. "We must charge. It's our only chance." Paddy took one last, hasty shot. Then, gripping his rifle, he turned to Weldon. "True, little Canuck," he answered loyally. "Go on, and be sure Paddy will follow you to the other edge of the grave!" He spoke truthfully.
Neither might reach for his knife, neither was able to hold the other down, Weldon's curses surcharged with hatred. the Indian straining silently save for a gasp or a guttural note, the white a bearded madman, the savage a devil with a glistening, paint-streaked body, his features now agonized as his muscles strained and cracked, now lighted with a diabolical joy.
She ignored his last words. "And you don't even know where you are going?" she asked. "To Cape Town." "But after that?" "To my banker. After that, to the nearest recruiting station." "So you'll not stop in Cape Town?" Weldon's quick ear caught the little note of regret in her voice. "Not long. Long enough, however, to pull any latch-string that offers itself to me."
This thought was one of those which returned most persistently to Dick Sand's mind. What misfortunes the death, the just death of Harris and Negoro might have prevented! What misery, at least, for those whom these brokers in human flesh were now treating as slaves! All the horror of Mrs. Weldon's and little Jack's situation now represented itself to Dick Sand.
Turning suddenly, she looked up directly into Weldon's dark gray eyes. "One of my cousins wants to be a nurse. She lives at Piquetberg Road, but she has been visiting friends who live in Natal on the edge of the fighting, where she has seen things as they happen. In her last letter, she told me that she was only waiting for my uncle's permission to go out as a nurse." "Is that what you would do?"
He bowed in farewell and turned away. Looking after him, Ethel Dent told herself that Weldon's simple words had been descriptive, not only of his friend, but of his loyal, honest self. Half-way across the heart-shaped bit of lawn enclosed within the curve of the drive, Weldon met another guest going towards the steps.
In hot excitement, the black fingers closed on a fold of the brown sleeve. "Kruger Bobs go, too?" "What makes you want to go?" "Syb dere, Boss." "I don't see what difference that makes," Weldon said reflectively. Once more Kruger Bobs turned coy. "Boss go see his vrouw; me go see Syb," he explained briefly. Weldon's laugh astonished him; still more Weldon's answer.
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