So they hid the truth, and talked with feverish activity about other things, such as the drilling of the Makalanga, and the chances of an attack by the Matabele, which happily now seemed to be growing small; also of the conditions of their cattle, and the prospect of obtaining more to replace those that had died.  Indeed, Benita went farther; in her new-found zeal of deception she proceeded to act a lie, yes, even with her father’s reproachful eyes fixed upon her.  Incidentally she mentioned that they were going to have an outing, to climb down the ladder and visit the Makalanga camp between the first and second walls and mix with the great world for a few hours; also to carry their washing to be done there, and bring up some clean clothes and certain books which she had left below.

Jacob came out of his thoughts and calculations, and listened gloomily.

“I have half a mind to come with you,” he said, words at which Benita shivered.  “It certainly is most cursed lonesome in that cave, and I seem to hear things in it, as though those old bones were rattling, sounds like sighs and whispers too, which are made by the draught.”

“Well, why don’t you?” asked Benita.

It was a bold stroke, but it succeeded.  If he had any doubts they vanished, and he answered at once: 

“Because I have not the time.  We have to get this business finished one way or another before the wet season comes on, and we are drowned out of the place with rain, or rotted by fever.  Take your afternoon out, Miss Clifford; every maid of all work is entitled to as much, and I am afraid that is your billet here.  Only,” he added, with that care for her safety which he always showed in his more temperate moods, “pray be careful, Clifford, to get back before sundown.  That wall is too risky for your daughter to climb in the dusk.  Call me from the foot of it; you have the whistle, and I will come down to help her up.  I think I’ll go with you after all.  No, I won’t.  I made myself so unpleasant to them yesterday that those Makalanga can’t wish to see any more of me at present.  I hope you will have a more agreeable afternoon than I shall.  Why don’t you take a ride outside the wall?  Your horses are fat and want exercise, and I do not think that you need be afraid of the Matabele.”  Then without waiting for an answer, he rose and left them.

Mr. Clifford looked after him doubtfully.

“Oh, I know,” said Benita, “it seems horribly mean, but one must do shabby things sometimes.  Here are the bundles all ready, so let us be off.”

Accordingly they went, and from the top of the wall Benita glanced back to bid goodbye to that place which she hoped never to see again.  Yet she could not feel as though she looked her last upon it; to her it wore no air of farewell, and even as she descended the perilous stairs, she found herself making mental notes as to how they might best be climbed again.  Also, she could not believe that she had done with Mr. Meyer.  It seemed to her as though for a long while yet her future would be full of him.