He made an odd sound that was like a laugh choked at birth.  “Not often,” he agreed.  And then abruptly, straightening himself, “Suppose it did,—­what then?”

“What then?” She looked at him for a moment, still feeling curiously unsure of her ground.  “Well, we’d weather it somehow, partner,” she said, and held out her hand to him with a little quivering smile.

He made no movement to take her hand.  Perhaps he had already heard what a few seconds later reached her own ears,—­the sound of Guy’s feet upon the stoep outside the window.  But during those seconds his eyes dwelt upon her, holding her own with a fixed intentness that somehow made her feel cold.  It was an unspeakable relief to her when he turned them from her, as it were setting her free.

Guy came in with something of his old free swing, and closed the window behind him.  “Better to stew than to eat sand,” he remarked.  “I’ve just heard from one of the Kaffirs that Piet Vreiboom’s land is on fire.”

“What?” said Burke sharply.

“It’s all right at present,” said Guy.  “We can bear it with equanimity.  The wind is the other way.”

“The wind may change,” said Burke.

“That wouldn’t be like your luck,” remarked Guy, as he seated himself.

They partook of the meal almost in silence.  To Sylvia the very air was laden with foreboding.  Everything they ate was finely powered with sand, but she alone was apparently aware of the fact.  The heat inside the bungalow was intense.  Outside a fierce wind had begun to blow, and the sky was dark.

At the end of a very few minutes Burke arose.  Guy sprang instantly to his feet.

“Are you off?  I’m coming!”

“No—­no,” Burke said shortly.  “Stay where you are!”

“I tell you I’m coming,” said Guy, pushing aside his chair.

Burke, already ac the door, paused and looked at him.  “Better not,” he said.  “You’re not up to it—­and this infernal sand——­”

“Damn the sand!” said Guy, with vehemence.  “I’m coming!”

He reached Burke with the words.  His hand sought the door.  Burke swallowed the rest of his remonstrance.

“Please yourself!” he said, with a shadowy smile; and then for a moment his eyes went to Sylvia.  “You will stay in this afternoon,” he said.

It was a definite command, and she had no thought of defying it.  But the tone in which it was uttered hurt her.

“I suppose I shall do as I am told,” she said, in a low voice.

He let Guy go and returned to her.  He bent swiftly down over her and dropped a small key into her lap.  “I leave you in charge of all that I possess,” he said.  “Good-bye!”

She looked up at him quickly.  “Burke!” she stammered.  Burke!  There is no—­danger?”

“Probably not of the sort you mean,” he answered.  And then suddenly his arms were round her.  He held her close and hard.  For a second she felt the strong beat of his heart, and then forgot it in an overwhelming rush of emotion that so possessed her as almost to deprive her of her senses.  For he kissed her—­he kissed her—­and his kiss was as the branding of a hot iron.  It seemed to burn her to the soul.