Such was the end of Kaatje so far as we were concerned.  Doubtless to her dying day she remained, or will remain, a firm believer in ghosts.

Anscombe and Heda were married at Maritzburg as soon as the necessary formalities had been completed.  I could not attend the ceremony, which was a disappointment to me and I hope to them, but unfortunately I had a return of my illness and was laid up for a week.  Perhaps this was owing to the hot sun that struck me on the neck one afternoon coming down the Town Hill where I was obliged to hang on to the rear of the cart because the brakes had given out.  However I was able to send Heda a wedding gift in the shape of her jewels and money that I recovered from the bank, which she had never expected to see again; also to arrange everything about her property.

They went down to Durban for their honeymoon and, some convenient opportunity arising, sailed thence for England.  I received an affectionate letter from them both, which I still treasure, thanking me very much for all I had done for them, that after all was little enough.  Also Anscombe enclosed a blank cheque, begging me to fill it in for whatever sum I considered he was indebted to me on the balance of account.  I thought this very kind of him and a great mark of confidence, but the cheque remained blank.

I never saw either of them again, and though I believe that they are both living, for the most part abroad—­in Hungary I think—­I do not suppose that I ever shall.  When I came to England some years later after King Solomon’s mines had made me rich, I wrote Anscombe a letter.  He never answered it, which hurt me at the time.  Afterwards I remembered that in their fine position it was very natural that they should not wish to renew acquaintance with an individual who had so intimate a knowledge of certain incidents that they probably regarded as hateful, such as the deaths of Marnham and Dr. Rodd, and all the surrounding circumstances.  If so, I daresay that they were wise, but of course it may have been only carelessness.  It is so easy for busy and fashionable folk not to answer a rather troublesome letter, or to forget to put that answer in the post.  Or, indeed, the letter may never have reached them—­such things often go astray, especially when people live abroad.  At any rate, perhaps through my own fault, we have drifted apart.  I daresay they believe that I am dead, or not to be found somewhere in Africa.  However, I always think of them with affection, for Anscombe was one of the best travelling companions I ever had, and his wife a most charming girl, and wonder whether Zikali’s prophecy about their children will come true.  Good luck go with them!

As it chances, since then I passed the place where the Temple stood, though at a little distance.  I had the curiosity, however, at some inconvenience, to ride round and examine the spot.  I suppose that Heda had sold the property, for a back-veld Boer, who was absent at the time, had turned what used to be Rodd’s hospital into his house.  Close by, grim and gaunt, stood the burnt-out marble walls of the Temple.  The verandah was still roofed over, and standing on the spot whence I had shot the pistol out of Rodd’s hand, I was filled with many memories.