"Stop where you are, Bailey," cried Mrs. du Preez.
She came across the room with a run and put herself in front of Bailey, facing her husband.
"Now," she said, "now what d'you think you'll do?"
The Boer heaved himself upright, and they fronted one another stripped of all considerations save to be victor in the struggle for the fate of Boy Bailey. It was the iron-hard cockney against the Boer.
"I told him to go," said Christian. "If he doesn't go—I'll shoot."
He cast an eye up to the gun in its place upon the wall.
"You will, will you?" The bitter voice was mocking. "Now, Christian, you just listen to me."
"He 'll go," said the Boer.
"Oh, he 'll go," answered Mrs. du Preez. "He 'll go all right, if you say so. But mark my words. You go turning my friends out of the house like this, and so help me, I 'll go too. Get that straight in your head, old chap—it's right. Bailey 's not fretting to stay with you, you know. You 're not such good company that you need worry about it. It 's me he came to see, not you. And you pitch him out; that 's all. Bailey goes to-night, does he? Then I go in the morning."
She nodded at him, the serious, graphic nod that promises more earnestly than a shaken fist.