Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1890-02-01

,IIlRA whose race have
y \ never been able
to determine accurately; they belonged
to the Basutu and peaceful section of the
Bantu peoples rather than to the Zulu
and warlike. Several of these ran up to
take the horses, gazing on us with aston
ishment, not unmixed with awe. We
MISUNDERSTANDING for myself, not
without difficulty-indeed, had 1t not
been for Stella's support should have
fallen.
"Now you must come and see my
father" she said. ST wonder what he will
think of it, it is all so strange. Hendrika,
take the child to my hut and give her
milk, then put her into my bed; I will
come presently"
Hendrika went off with somewhat
ugly grin to do her mistress bidding,
and Stella led the way through the mar
row gateway in the marble wall, which
may have inclosed nearly half an "erf, !"
or three-quarters of an acre of ground In
all. 1t was beautifully planted as gar
den, many European vegetables and fiow-
ers were growing in it, besides others
with which was not acquainted. Pres
emily we came to the center hut, and it
was then that noticed the extraordinary
beauty and finish of the marble masonry.
In the hut and facing the gateway was a
modern door, rather rudely fashioned of
Bucken pont, beautiful reddish wood
that has the appearance of having been
sedulously pricked with q pin. Stella
opened it, and we entered. The interior
Of the hut was the size of a large and
lofty room, the walls being formed Of
plain polished marble. 1t was lighted
somewhat dimly, but quite effectively,
by peculiar openings In the roof, from
which the rain was excluded by over
hanging caves. The marble floor was
strewn with native mats and skins of
animals. Bookcases filled with books
were placed against the walls, there was
table in the center, chairs seated with
rimpi or strips of hide stood about, and
beyond the table was a couch on which
man was lying reading.
sis that you, Stella" said voice, that
even after so many years seemed famil-
lar to me. Where have you been, my
dear? began to think that you had
lost yourself again."
"No, father, dear, have not lost my
self, but / have found somebody else"
At that moment stepped forward so
that the light fell on nae. The old gen.
tleman on the couch rose with some
difficulty and bowed with much court
esy. He was a flne-looking old man.,
with deep-set dark eyes, pale face, that
bore many traces of physical and mental
suffering, and long white beard.
"Be welcome, sir" he said. cit is
long since we have seen white face in
these wilds, and yours, if am not mis-
taken, is that of an Englishman. There
has been no Englishman here for ten
years, and he'll grieve to say, was an
outcast flying from JUSTICE" and he
bowed again and stretched out his hand.
Hooked at him, and then of a sudden
his name flashed back into my mind. I
took his hand.
Chow do you do, Mr.. Carson?" I said.
He started back as though he had been
stung.
"Who told you that name? he cried.
at is dead name. Stella, is it you? I
forbade you to let it pass your lips"
II did not speak it, father. 1 have
never spoken It," she answered.
"Sir," broke In, "if you will allow
me, will show you how came to know
your name. Do you remember many
years ago coming into the study of a
clergyman in Oxfordshire and telling
him that you were going to leave Eng
land for ever?"
He bowed his head.
"And do you remember little boy
who sat upon the hearthrug writing
with a pencil?"
'I do" he said.
"Sir, I was that boy, and my name Is
Allan Quatermain. Those children who
lay sick are all dead, their mother is
dead, and my father, your old friend,
is dead also. Like you he emigrated,
and last year he died in the Cape. But
this is not all the story. After many adj
ventures I, one Kaffir, and little girl,
lay senseless and dying in the bad lands,
where we had wandered for days with
out water, and there we should have
persisted, but your daughter Miss
"Call her Stella" he broke in, hastily.
az cannot bear to hear that name. 1
have forsworn it.
'HAfisr Stella found lis nv chance and