[a/]
Chapter Five.
An Episode in Siever’s Kloof.
The days sped by and still Hilary Blachland remained as a guest at George Bayfield’s farm.
He had talked about moving on, but the suggestion had been met by a frank stare of astonishment on the part of his host.
“Where’s your hurry, man?” had replied the latter. “Why, you’ve only just come.”
“Only just come! You don’t seem to be aware, Bayfield, that I’ve been here nearly four weeks.”
“No, I’m not. But what then? What if it’s four or fourteen or forty? You don’t want to go up-country again just yet. By the way, though, it must be mighty slow here.”
“Now, Bayfield, I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings, but you’re talking bosh, rank bosh. I don’t believe you know it, though. Slow indeed!”
“Perhaps Mr Blachland’s tired of us, father,” said Lyn demurely, but with a spice of mischief.