"Well, Fingo," said Laure, in a pleasant tone of voice, "you are around early this morning--shut the door. What can I do for you?"

"Come to see bout dat big, white diamond."

"Ah, yes; now how much shall I give you for it? It has a flaw in it, you know."

"Let Fingo boy see. Kafir want see hole in diamond."

"I haven't it about me. It isn't safe to have such a stone around. I may never have a chance to sell it," said Laure, firmly, looking at the Kafir.

"Dat good stone, Ba-a-as. Bring big money. Mus' have money fo' dat."

"What have you done with all the money I have given you, Fingo?"

"Me save him. Me buy cows, pony."

"It won't do for you to have so much gold about you. Detectives will get you and put you in the chain-gang."

"Me hide it--way off. n.o.body find it!"

"Well how much shall I give you for it?"

"Hunder pound."

"Too much. It isn't worth it. I'll give you eighty, or you may come to-morrow and I'll give it back to you," said Laure, who was pretty certain that the Kafir would hardly dare hunt for a buyer, as many a buyer, though an illicit one, would bring him before the authorities and compel him to disgorge, simply to throw the detectives off the scent in regard to himself. The Fingo hesitated for a moment or two, and then accepted the offer.

"Going back to work to-day?" asked Laure.

"No! Me go way soon as me sell 'nother big white diamond me hab. Me buy wife, get big Kraal. Hab plenty ox, cow, pony."

"You have a wife now, haven't you?"

"Me hab two, three, four wife bime bye," replied the Kafir as he held up four fingers. "Me know pretty Kafir girl: hoe corn; pound mealies-- cook. Me work no more. Hunt blesse-bok; ride pony; smoke dagga; hab good time!"

"Yes, that is right, Fingo, you must leave the Fields. I will have the money for you, and will meet you at--or, stay. I will put it under the rock where you got the last. But mind, don't stay round here much longer, or the police will get you--do you hear?"

"Kafir no fool, Ba-a-as Laure. He jes' go home to his Kraal. No work more," and the Kafir left the room.

That evening Laure and Schwatka were sitting talking in the library, when Dainty unexpectedly approached the room. A fragment of their conversation reached her, and as the full meaning of the words she heard burst upon her, she stood speechless, half hidden in the folds of the curtained doorway.

"Laure, how dare you carry on this illicit trade of buying diamonds of the Kafirs? Don't you fear that they will give you away to the detectives?" Schwatka was saying.

"I suppose I am in danger of being trapped, but I am pretty sure of the Fingo who sells me the blazers."

"You know you are safe, as far as I am concerned," replied Schwatka. "I am thinking what your wife would do, if you should be caught, through the treachery of this Fingo. You can never tell what they will not do for money."

"That's true, but I rather think my luck won't go back on me. I don't mind telling you, that I happen to know that this Fingo has a big diamond that I want, but he asks too much money for it--I tell you it's a beauty. These Kafirs are getting too knowing for us fellows; they are too well aware of the exact value of the diamonds, and we have to go slow with them."

"There are too many risks in that trade to attract me. I say, Laure, how do you expect to sell that diamond if you get it?"

"I shall probably keep it, until I go to Europe. The idea that an illicit or stolen diamond sells there for half its value, is nonsense.

In Amsterdam, the great European market, a diamond sells according to its weight and purity. Its intrinsic worth is all that the buyer or seller thinks of. Look at this gem."

As Donald said this, he turned and caught sight of Dainty standing in the doorway. She looked from one to the other. Donald cast his eyes guiltily down, unable to meet the glances of the woman he loved; while Schwatka sat looking up into her face with his own all aglow, and in an att.i.tude that suggested the ardent lover eager to shield her from trouble.

As her eyes at last rested on Herr Schwatka, in a dazed sort of way, her heart gave one bound and went out to him.

Though daily she had met the Austrian who had so often sought for opportunities to be near her, though daily her interest had become greater, and her pleasure in his presence increased, though sometimes she had felt dissatisfaction as she compared her husband with him whom she called her friend--yet, not until this sudden revelation terrified her, as a sense of its danger came over her, did she realise her actual feelings.

Silently turning, in a half-blinded way, she left the room. For a moment she was dazed. Then the peril of the situation flashed through her mind. Her alert, savage blood was roused at last, and from that moment she lost her indolent, indifferent manner. Never for one moment was she forgetful of the situation.

At any moment the officers of the law might be on their track. Both she and Donald were henceforth bound to Herr Schwatka. One by love--the other by fear. Even the generosity of Schwatka, should he conceal Donald's felony, made her sick at heart--for discovered, each was a partner in the other's guilt.

Her sleep, once so peaceful, was fitful and disturbed. She asked of neither an explanation.

What to do, to whom to turn, between her love, her duty, and her fears, was like an ever-present nightmare.

She had awakened to a new life; her eyes, that until now were soft, blazed with a fire that had never before been kindled in them. Emotions new to her had taken possession of her mind. Herr Schwatka came frequently, as before, and, with more eagerness than she had ever looked for Donald, she looked for him.

Strange were the mental experiences of Herr Schwatka. He saw what he desired to see, that her heart was his. But not with the triumph he would have known had he not fallen into his own trap.

Schwatka, who had coolly won more hearts than he ever took pains to count, was enthralled by the power of Dainty.

He felt he could not harm her, though he felt he could not lose her. By the power of his love he read every pa.s.sing thought as it flitted over her face; and he would willingly have risked all his hope and happiness in other things, could he but possess the life of this woman--like a lamb in her helplessness, like a young lioness in her love of freedom, and in her rebellion against the chafing of distasteful bonds.

As the days pa.s.sed, her restlessness of spirit increased. At last the fire began to consume the material body. She grew thin, a hectic flush tinged her cheek. Her eyes, like great burning lamps, looked out upon the world with an unsatisfied expression pitiful to behold. For a time these new emotions escaped the notice of Donald, but when she began to droop, and he perceived what he feared might be some malady, he resorted to Dr Fox with real anxiety.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN.

On entering the doctor's office, Laure found him examining Bela's eye, or rather the part of the face that once contained that valuable organ.

"How do, Doctor," said Laure; "how are you, Bela? Now that you are well, why do you not return to your mistress?"

"Missy don't want see Bela now he got only one eye."

"We'll see about that," said Dr Fox. "Glad you came in, Laure. I was about experimenting on the boy's eye. We'll see if we can't send you back to your mistress with a new optic!"

As he said this he lifted Bela's eyelid, and in another second the boy stood before the men with two eyes in his head, though one was but a gla.s.s eye.

"h.e.l.lo!" said Laure, "what hinders you now from going home to your mistress? You are nearly as good-looking as you ever were! By the way, Doctor I wish you would drop in and see Mrs Laure. She does not look well."

"Sorry to hear that," said the doctor. "I will call there this morning and take Bela with me." The two men exchanged a few more words and then parted. Some hours later Bela, accompanied by the doctor, entered his old home dressed in a most fantastic costume, and expressed, in his peculiar way, the greatest joy at seeing his mistress, who was well pleased to receive him again. She greeted the doctor cordially, and was curious about this new eye of Bela's.

"How did you ever do it?" she asked.

Pleased to see her interested, the doctor slipped the sh.e.l.l that so skilfully simulated the destroyed organ of sight, and showed her how it was inserted.