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Updated: June 21, 2025
He fancied he could see Lyndall standing on the brick wall to watch for him; his father, passing from one house to the other, stopping to look. He called aloud to the oxen. For each one at home he had brought something.
The boy's heart was heavy. When he reached the kraal gate the two girls met him. "Come," said the yellow-haired Em, "let us play coop. There is still time before it gets quite dark. You, Waldo, go and hide on the kopje; Lyndall and I will shut eyes here, and we will not look." The girls hid their faces in the stone wall of the sheep-kraal, and the boy clambered half way up the kopje.
"What do you want?" they asked together. "This key," she said, holding it up, and looking at them. "Do you mean her to have it?" said Tant Sannie in Dutch. "Why don't you stop her?" asked Bonaparte in English. "Why don't you take it from her?" said Tant Sannie. So they looked at each other, talking, while Lyndall walked to the fuel-house with the key, her underlip bitten in.
When the gate was opened and the bird driven in and the gate fastened, it turned away, but then suddenly paused near the stone wall. "Is that you, Waldo?" said Lyndall, hearing a sound. The boy was sitting on the damp ground with his back to the wall. He gave her no answer. "Come," she said, bending over him, "I have been looking for you all day." He mumbled something.
Tonight, when Lyndall looked in, Waldo sat before the fire watching a pot which simmered there, with his slate and pencil in his hand; his father sat at the table buried in the columns of a three-weeks-old newspaper; and the stranger lay stretched on the bed in the corner, fast asleep, his mouth open, his great limbs stretched out loosely, betokening much weariness.
At first Gregory's heart was sore when day by day the body grew lighter, and the mouth he fed took less; but afterward he grew accustomed to it, and was happy. For passion has one cry, one only "Oh, to touch thee, Beloved!" In that quiet room Lyndall lay on the bed with the dog at her feet, and Gregory sat in his dark corner watching.
She knew so well all that was in that drawer, and yet she turned them all over as though she saw them for the first time, packed them all out, and packed them all in, without one fold or crumple; and then sat down and looked at them. Tomorrow evening when Lyndall came she would bring her here, and show it her all. Lyndall would so like to see it the little wreath, and the ring, and the white veil!
"And what do you think I am like?" asked Gregory, hopefully. Lyndall looked up from her book. "Like a little tin duck floating on a dish of water, that comes after a piece of bread stuck on a needle, and the more the needle pricks it the more it comes on." "Oh, you are making fun of me now, you really are!" said Gregory feeling wretched. "You are making fun, aren't you, now?" "Partly.
We will ask no one. It will be suppertime soon. Listen and when you hear the clink of the knives and forks we will go out and see him." Em suppressed her sobs and listened intently, kneeling at the door. Suddenly some one came to the window and put the shutter up. "Who was that?" said Lyndall, starting. "The girl, I suppose," said Em. "How early she is this evening!"
For his father a piece of tobacco, bought at the shop by the mill; for Em a thimble; for Lyndall a beautiful flower dug out by the roots, at a place where they had outspanned; for Tant Sannie a handkerchief. When they drew near the house he threw the whip to the Kaffer leader, and sprung from the side of the wagon to run on. Bonaparte stopped him as he ran past the ash-heap.
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