of uneasiness pass over me. What was this shadow of which I was so conscious between us?
After breakfast I sat out on the stoep, a book in my hand which I did not read. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I never saw Colonel Race ride up and dismount from his horse. It was not until he said "Good morning, Anne," that I became aware of his presence.
"Oh," I said, with a flush, "it's you."
"Yes. May I sit down?"
He drew a chair up beside me. It was the first time we had been alone together since that day at the Matoppos. As always, I felt that curious mixture of fascination and fear that he never failed to inspire in me.
"What is the news?" I asked.
"Smuts will be in Johannesburg to-morrow. I give this outbreak three days more before it collapses utterly. In the meantime the fighting goes on."
"I wish," I said, "that one could be sure that the right people were the ones to get killed. I mean the ones who wanted to fight—not just all the poor people who happen to live in the parts where the fighting is going on."
He nodded.
"I know what you mean, Anne. That's the unfairness of war. But I've other news for you."
"Yes?"
"A confession of incompetency on my part. Pedler has managed to escape."
"What?"
"Yes. No one knows how he managed it. He was securely locked up for the night—in an upper-story room of one of the farms roundabouts which the Military have taken over, but this morning the room was empty and the bird had flown."
Secretly I was rather pleased. Never, to this day, have
