Sean signalled to the barman. Another brandy, please. While the man was pouring Sean asked, What happened to that panel near the door? The man glanced up and then back at the bottle. Some fellow put his fist through it in the old days. Boss left it like that, sort of souvenir, you know. He must have been quite a fellow... that wood's an inch thick. Who was he! Sean asked expectantly.

The man shrugged. One of the drifters. They come and they go. Make a few pounds, p.i.s.s it against the wall and then go back where they came from. He looked at Sean with bored eyes. That'll be half a dollar, mate. Sean drank the brandy slowly, turning the gla.s.s in his hands between sips and watching the liquor cling to its sides like thin oil. By a cracked panel in a bar-room they shall remember you.

And now I shall go to bed, he decided, this is no longer my world. My world is upstairs sleeping, I hope! He smiled a little to himself and finished the brandy in his gla.s.s.

Sean? a voice at his ear and a hand on his shoulder as be turned to leave. My G.o.d, Sean, is it really you?

Sean stared at the man beside him. He did not recognize the neatly clipped beard and the big sun-burned nose with the skin peeling off the tip, but suddenly he knew the eyes.

Dennis, you old rogue. Dennis Petersen from Lady-burg.

That's right isn't it? You didn't recognize me! laughed Dennis. So much for our friendship, you disappear without a word and ten years later you don't even know me!

Now they were both laughing. I thought they would have hanged you long ago. Sean defended himself. What on earth are you doing in Johannesburg? Selling beef, I'm on the committee of the Beef Growers a.s.sociation.

There was pride in Dennis's voice. I have been up here negotiating the renewal of our contracts. When are you going back? My train leaves in an hour. Well, there's time for a drink before you go, what will it be? I'll have a small brandy, thanks Sean ordered the drinks and they took them up and stood, suddenly awkward in the awareness that ten years were between their once complete accord. so, what have you been doing with yourself? Dennis ended the pause. This and that, you know, a bit of mining, just come back from the bushveld. Nothing very exciting. Well, it's good to see you again anyway. Your health. And yours, said Sean, and then suddenly he realized that here was news of his family, news he had been without for many years. How's everyone at Lady-burg, your sisters? Both married, so am I with four sons, and the pride was in Dennis's voice again.

Anyone I know? asked Sean. Audrey, you know old Pye's daughter. No! Sean ripped out the word, and then quickly, That's wonderful, Dennis. I'm pleased for you, she was a lovely girl. The best, agreed Dennis complacently. He had the sleek well-fed, well-cared for look of a married mann, fatter in the face and his stomach starting to show. I wonder if I have it yet, Sean thought. Of course, old man Pye's dead now, that's one creditor he couldn't buy off. Ronnie's taken over the bank and the store. The bat-eared bush rat, said Sean and knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing. Dennis frowned slightly. He's family now, Sean. A very decent chap really - and a clever business man. I'm sorry, I was joking. How's my mother? Sean changed the subject by asking the question that had been in the forefront of his mind and he had picked the right topic. Dennis's expression softened immediately, you could see the warmth in his eyes. The same as ever. She's got a dress shop now, next door to Ronnie's store. It's a gold mine, no one would think of buying anywhere else but at Aunt Ada's. She's G.o.dmother to my two eldest, I guess she's G.o.dmother to half the kids in the districts and then his expression hardened again, The least you could have done was write to her sometime, Sean. You can't imagine the pain you have caused her. There were circ.u.mstances. Sean dropped his eyes to his gla.s.s.

That's no excuse, you have a duty which you neglected. There is no excuse for it. You little man Sean lifted his head and looked at him without trying to disguise his annoyance. You pompous, preaching little man peering out at the world one-eyed through the keyhole of your own self-importance. Dennis had not noticed Sean's reaction and he continued. That's a lesson a men must learn before he grows up, we all have our responsibilities and our duties. A man grows up when he faces those duties, when he accepts the burdens that society places on him. Take my own case: despite the vast amount of work I have on the farms, I now own Mahobals Kloof as well, and despite the demands made on me by my family, yet I have time to represent the district on the committee of the Beef Growers a.s.sociation, I am a member of the Church Council and the village management board, and I have every reason to believe that next month I will be asked to accept the office of mayor. Then he looked steadily at Sean, What have you done with your life so far? I've lived it, Sean answered, and Dennis looked a little perplexed, then he gathered himself. Are you married yet? I was, but I sold her to the Arab slavers up north. You did whatV Well, I grinned Sean, she was an old wife and the price was good! that's a joke, hey? Ha, ha! You couldn't fool good old Dennis, Sean laughed out loud. This unbelievable little man!

Have a drink, Dennis, he suggested. Two is my limit, thanks Sean. Dennis pulled the goldhunter from his waistcoat pocket and inspected it. Time to 90, I'm afraid. Nice seeing you again-Wait, Sean stopped him. My brother, how's Garry? Poor old Garry. Dennis shook his head solemnly.

What's wrong with him? Sean's voice was sharp with his sense of dread. Nothing, Dennis rea.s.sured him quickly. well, I mean nothing more than ever was. Why did you say "poor old Garry" then? I don't really know, except that everybody says it. It's habit, I suppose, he's just one of those people you say poor old in front of. Sean suppressed his irritation, he wanted to know. He had to know. You haven't answered me, how is he?

Dennis made a significant gesture with his right hand. Looking into the bottle quite a bit these days, not that I blame him with that woman he married. You were well out of it there if I may say so, Sean. You may, Sean acquiesced, but is he well? How are things at Theunis Kraal? We all took a bit of a beating with the rindepest, but Garry, well, he lost over half of his herds. Poor old Garry, everything happens to him. My G.o.d, fifty percent! Yes, but, of course, Ronnie helped him out. Gave him a mortgage on the farm to tide him over. Theunis Kraal bonded again, groaned Sean. Oh Garry, Garry. Yes, well, Dennis coughed uneasily. Well, I think I'd better be going. Totsiens, Sean. He held out his hand. Shall I tell them I saw you? No, said Sean quickly.

Just leave it stand. Very well then. Dennis hesitated. Are you all right, Sean? I mean', he coughed again, are you all right for money? Sean felt his unhappiness dissolve a little; this pompous little man was going to offer him a loan. That's very good of you, Dennis. But I've got a couple of pounds saved up enough to eat on for a few days, he spoke seriously. All right then. Dennis looked mightily relieved. All right then, totsiens, Sean, and he turned and walked quickly out of the bar. As he left the room so he went out of Sean's mind, and Sean was thinking of his brother again.

Then suddenly Sean decided. I will go back to Lady-burg when this next trip is over. The dream farm outside Paarl would not lose anything in being transplanted to Natal and he suddenly longed to sit in the panelled study at Theunis Kraal again, and to feel the mist come cold down the escarpment in the mornings, and see the spray blowing off the white falls in the wind. He wanted to hear Ada's voice again and to explain to her, knowing she would understand and forgive.

But more, much more it was Garry, poor old Garry. I must go back to him, ten years is a long time and he will have lost the bitterness. I must go, back to him, for his sake and for Theunis Kraal. With the decision made, Sean finished his drink and went up the stairs to his suite.

Katrina was breathing softly in her sleep, the dark ma.s.s of her hair spread out on the pillow. While he undressed he watched her and slowly the melancholy dissolved.

Gently he pulled back the blankets on his side of the bed and just then Dirk whimpered from the next room. Sean went through to him. All right, what's the trouble? Dirk blinked owlishly and searched for an excuse, then the relief flooded into his face and he produced the one that creaked with age. I want a drink a water. The delay while Sean went through to the bathroom gave Dirk an opportunity to rally his forces and when Sean came back he opened the offensive in earnest.

Tell me a story, Daddy. He was sitting up now, brighteyed.

I'll tell you a story about Jack and a Nary - said Sean. Not that one- protested Dirk. The saga of Jack and his brother lasted five seconds and Dirk knew it. Sean sat down on the edge of the bed and held the gla.s.s for him. How about this one? There once was a king who had everything in the world... but when he lost it he found out that he had never had anything and that he now had more than he ever had before Dirk looked stunned.

That's not a very good one, he gave his opinion at last. No, said Sean. It isn't... is it? But I think we should be charitable and admit that it's not too bad for this time of night Sean woke feeling happy. Katrina was sitting up in bed filling cups from a pewter coffee pot and Dirk was hammering at the door to be let in. Katrina smiled at him. Good morning, meneer. Sean sat up and kissed her. How did you sleep, fancy? Well, thank you, but there were dark rings under her eyes. Sean went across to the bedroom door.

Prepare to receive cavalry, he said and swung it open.

Dirk's charge carried him onto the bed and Sean dived after him. When two men are evenly matched, weight will usually decide and within seconds Dirk had straddled Sean's chest, pinning him helplessly and Sean was pleading for quarter.

After breakfast Mbejane brought the carriage round to the front of the hotel. When the three of them were settled in it, Sean opened the small window behind the driver's seat and told Mbejane, To the office first. Then we have to be at the Exchange by ten o'clock Mbejane grinned at him. Yes, Nkosi, then lunch at the Big House. Mbejane had never been able to master the word Xanadu.

They went to all the old places. Sean and Mbejane laughing and reminiscing at each other through the window.

There was a panic at the Exchange, crowds on the pavement outside. The offices on Eloff Street had been refaced and a bra.s.s plate beside the front door carried the roll of the subsidiaries of Central Rand Consolidated. Mbejane stopped the carriage outside and Sean boasted to Katrina.

She sat silently and listened to him, suddenly feeling inadequate for a man who had done so much. She misinterpreted Sean's enthusiasm and thought he regretted the past and wished he were back. Mbejane, take us up to the Candy Deep, Sean called at last. Let's see what's happening there. The last five hundred yards of the road was overgrown and pitted with disuse. The administration block had been demolished and gra.s.s grew thick over the foundations. There were new buildings and headgears half a mile farther along the ridge, but here the reef had been worked out and abandoned. Mbejane pulled up the horses in the circular drive in front of where the offices had stood. He jumped down and held their heads while Sean helped Katrina out of the carriage. Sean lifted Dirk and sat him on his shoulder and they picked their way through the waist-high gra.s.s and piles of bricks and rubbish towards the Candy Deep Number Three Shaft.

The bare white concrete blocks that had held the machinery formed a neat geometrical pattern in the gra.s.s.

Beyond them reared the white mine dump; some mineral in the powdered rock had leaked out in long yellow stains down its sides. Duff had once had the mineral identified.

It was of little commercial value, used occasionally in the ceramics industry. Sean had forgotten the name of it;

it sounded like the name of a star, Ura.n.u.s perhaps.

They came to the shaft. The edges of it had crumbled and the gra.s.s hung into it, the way an unkempt mustache hangs into an old man's mouth. The headgear was gone and only a rusty barbed-wire fence ringed the shaft.

Sean bent his knees: keeping his back straight for Dirk still sat on his shoulder, he picked up a lump of rock the size of a man's fist and tossed it over the fence. They stood quietly and listened to it clatter against the sides as it fell. It fell for a long time and when at last it hit the bottom the echo rang faintly up from a thousand feet below. Throw more! commanded Dirk, but Katrina stopped him. No, Sean, let's go. It's an evil place She shuddered slightly. It looks like a grave. It very nearly was, said Sean softly, remembering the darkness and the rock pressing down upon him. Let's go, she said again, and they went back to where Mbejane waited with the carriage.

Sean was gay at lunch, he drank a small bottle of wine, but Katrina was tired and more miserable than she had been since they left Louis Trichardt. She had begun to realize the type of life he had led before she met him and she was frightened that now he wanted to return to it.

She had only known the bush and the life of the Trek.

Boer, she knew she could never learn to live like this. She watched as he laughed and joked during the meal, she watched the easy a.s.surance with which he commanded the white head waiter, the way he picked his way through the maze of cutlery that was spread out on the table before them and at last she could hold it in no longer. Let's go away, let's go back into the bush Sean stopped with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth.

What? Please, Sean, the sooner we go the sooner we'll be able to buy the farm Sean chuckled. A day or two more won't make any difference. We're starting to have fun. Tonight I'll take you dancing, we were going to be sinful, remember? Who will look after Dirk? she asked weakly.

Mbejane will! - Sean looked at her closely. You have a good sleep this afternoon and tonight we'll go out and tie the dog loose. He grinned at the memories that expression invoked.

When Katrina woke from her rest that evening she found the other part of the reason for her depression. For the first time since the baby, her periodic bleeding had started again, the tides of her body and mind were at their lowest ebb. She said nothing to Sean, but bathed and put on the yellow gown. She brushed her hair furiously, dragging the brush through it until her scalp tingled, but still it hung dull and lifeless, as dull as the eyes that looked back at her out of the yellow face in the mirror.

Sean came up behind her and leaned over her to kiss her cheek. You look, said he, like a stack of gold bars five-and-a-half feet high. But he realized that the yellow gown had been a mistake: it matched too closely the fever colour of her skin. Mbejane was waiting in the sittingroom when they went through.

We may be late before we return, Sean told him. That is of no account, Nkosi, Mbenjane's face was as impa.s.sive as ever, but Sean caught a sparkle of antic.i.p.ation in his eyes and realized that Mbejane could hardly wait to get Dirk to himself.

You are not to go into his room, Sean warned. What if he cries, Nkosi? He won't... but if he does? see what he wants, give it to him then leave him to sleep.

Mbejane's face registered his protest. I'm warning you, Mbejane, if I come home at midnight and find him riding you round the room I'll have both your hides for a kaross.

, His sleep shall be unspoiled, Nkosi, lied Mbejane.

In the hotel lobby Sean spoke to the receptionist.

Where can we find the best food in this town? he asked. Two blocks down, sir, the Golden Guinea. You can't miss it. It sounds like a gin palace, Sean was dubious. I a.s.sure you, sir, that you'll have no complaint when you get there. Everyone goes there. Mr Rhodes dines there when he's in town, Mr Barnato, Mr Hradsky --d.i.c.k Turpin, Cesare Borgla, Benedict Arnold, Sean continued for him. All right, you have convinced me. I'll take a chance on having my throat cut. Sean went out through the front entrance with Katrina on his arm. The splendour of the Golden Guinea subdued even Sean a little. A waiter with a uniform like a majorgeneral's led them down a marble staircase, across the wide meadow of carpet between the group of elegant men and women to a table that even in the soft light dazzled with its bright silver and snowy linen. Chandeliers of crystal hung from the vaulted ceiling, the band was good, and the air was rich with the fragrance of perfume and expensive cigars.

Katrina stared helplessly at the menu until Sean came to her rescue and ordered the meat in a French accent that impressed her but not the waiter. The wine came and with it Sean's high spirits returned. Katrina sat quietly opposite him and listened. She tried to think of something witty to answer him with; in their wagon or alone in the veld they could talk for hours at a time but here she was dumb. Shall we dance? Sean leaned across the table and squeezed her hand. She shook her head.

Sean, I couldn't. Not with all these people watching.

I'd only make a fool of myself. Come on, I'll show you how... it's easy. No, I couldn't, truly I couldn't.