“Come in to the fire,” she said; “it is a terrific night for any creature to be out. Shall we not go and fetch your things in first?” she added.
“I have nothing but this,” he said, motioning to the little bundle in his hand.
“Your horse?”
“Is dead.”
He sat down on the bench before the fire.
“The cakes are almost ready,” she said; “I will get you something to eat. Where have you been wandering all this while?”
“Up and down, up and down,” he answered wearily; “and now the whim has seized me to come back here. Em,” he said, putting his hand on her arm as she passed him, “have you heard from Lyndall lately?”
“Yes,” said Em, turning quickly from him.
“Where is she? I had one letter from her, but that is almost a year ago now—just when she left. Where is she?”
“In the Transvaal. I will go and get you some supper; we can talk afterward.”