The kraals that used to be to the left of the road by the river had vanished.  I rode towards their site; the mealie fields were choked with weeds, the paths were dumb with grass.  Presently I reached the place.  There, overgrown with grass, were the burnt ashes of the kraals, and there among the ashes, gleaming in the moonlight, lay the white bones of men.  Now it was clear to me.  The settlement had been fallen on by some powerful foe, and its inhabitants put to the assegai.  The forebodings of the natives had come true; Babyan Kraals were peopled by memories alone.

I passed on up the terraces.  There shone the roofs of the marble huts.  They would not burn, and were too strong to be easily pulled down.  I entered one of them—­it had been our sleeping hut—­and lit a candle which I had with me.  The huts had been sacked; leaves of books and broken mouldering fragments of the familiar furniture lay about.  Then I remembered that there was a secret place hollowed in the floor and concealed by a stone, where Stella used to hide her little treasures.  I went to the stone and dragged it up.  There was something within wrapped in rotting native cloth.  I undid it.  It was the dress my wife had been married in.  In the centre of the dress were the withered wreath and flowers she had worn, and with them a little paper packet.  I opened it; it contained a lock of my own hair!

I remembered then that I had searched for this dress when I came away and could not find it, for I had forgotten the secret recess in the floor.

Taking the dress with me, I left the hut for the last time.  Leaving my horse tied to a tree, I walked to the graveyard, through the ruined garden.  There it was a mass of weeds, but over my darling’s grave grew a self-sown orange bush, of which the scented petals fell in showers on to the mound beneath.  As I drew near, there was a crash and a rush.  A great baboon leapt from the centre of the graveyard and vanished into the trees.  I could almost believe that it was the wraith of Hendrika doomed to keep an eternal watch over the bones of the woman her jealous rage had done to death.

I tarried there a while, filled with such thoughts as may not be written.  Then, leaving my dead wife to her long sleep where the waters fall in melancholy music beneath the shadow of the everlasting mountain, I turned and sought that spot where first we had told our love.  Now the orange grove was nothing but a tangled thicket; many of the trees were dead, choked with creepers, but some still flourished.  There stood the one beneath which we had lingered, there was the rock that had been our seat, and there on the rock sat the wraith of Stella, the Stella whom I had wed!  Ay! there she sat, and on her upturned face was that same spiritual look which I saw upon it in the hour when we first had kissed.  The moonlight shone in her dark eyes, the breeze wavered in her curling hair, her breast rose and fell, a gentle smile played about her parted lips.  I stood transfixed with awe and joy, gazing on that lost loveliness which once was mine.  I could not speak, and she spoke no word; she did not even seem to see me.  Now her eyes fell.  For a moment they met mine, and their message entered into me.