“Then you wish me to go?”
“No,” said Mrs Braydon sadly; “but it is a duty you must fulfil.”
“It means going and leaving you all in a couple of hours’ time,” said the doctor.
“Yes, you must go at once,” sighed Mrs Braydon.
“Yes, I must go,” said the doctor. “Perhaps I can save him.” Then cheerfully, “Now, Nic, my boy, you must step into my shoes and play the man. I leave the Bluff and all that is dear in your charge. You manage old Samson and Brookes better than I do, and as for Leatherhead he has become twice the man he was since you have been here.”
Nic flushed a little, for the secret pricked him.
“And I am glad to see, my lad, that you keep him in his place with a tight rein. I was afraid at first, and Brookes dropped a few unpleasant hints about the way he said that you were making friends with him. I am glad to see, however, that all this is at an end.”
“But, father—” began Nic, whose conscience was uneasy.
“No, no: I don’t want to hear any explanation. You will do your best, I know. Now help me to pack my saddle-bags, all of you. See to the gun and ammunition, Nic; hobbles for the horse, and what is necessary. Hilda, my dear, haul the meal bags in, and see that we have plenty of flour, tea, and sugar for our ride, What’s the matter, mamma dear?”
“I—I was thinking about the blacks,” said Mrs Braydon nervously; and then, in an apologetic tone; “You made me speak, dear.”