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being sure of my way to the house; a lanky child appeared in front of

me; clad in a frock which exactly matched the colour of the peach bloom。

 I can see her now; her dark hair hanging down her back; and her big;

shy eyes staring at me from the shadow of the Dutch 〃kappie〃 which she

wore。  Indeed; she seemed to be all eyes; like a 〃dikkop〃 or

thick…headed plover; at any rate; I noted little else about her。



I pulled up my pony and stared at her; feeling very shy and not knowing

what to say。  For a while she stared back at me; being afflicted;

presumably; with the same complaint; then spoke with an effort; in a

voice that was very soft and pleasant。



〃Are you the little Allan Quatermain who is coming to learn French with

me?〃 she asked in Dutch。



〃Of course;〃 I answered in the same tongue; which I knew well; 〃but why

do you call me little; missie? I am taller than you;〃 I added

indignantly; for when I was young my lack of height was always a sore

point with me。



〃I think not;〃 she replied。  〃But get off that horse; and we will

measure here against this wall。〃



So I dismounted; and; having assured herself that I had no heels to my

boots (I was wearing the kind of raw…hide slippers that the Boers call

〃veld…shoon〃); she took the writing slate which she was carryingit had

no frame; I remember; being; in fact; but a piece of the material used

for roofingand; pressing it down tight on my stubbly hair; which stuck

up then as now; made a deep mark in the soft sandstone of the wall with

the hard pointed pencil。



〃There;〃 she said; 〃that is justly done。  Now; little Allan; it is your

turn to measure me。〃



So I measured her; and; behold! she was the taller by a whole half…inch。



〃You are standing on tiptoe;〃 I said in my vexation。



〃Little Allan;〃 she replied; 〃to stand on tiptoe would be to lie before

the good Lord; and when you come to know me better you will learn that;

though I have a dreadful temper and many other sins; I do not lie。〃



I suppose that I looked snubbed and mortified; for she went on in her

grave; grown…up way: 〃Why are you angry because God made me taller than

you? especially as I am whole months older; for my father told me so。 

Come; let us write our names against these marks; so that in a year or

two you may see how you outgrow me。〃  Then with the slate pencil she

scratched 〃Marie〃 against her mark very deeply; so that it might last;

she said; after which I wrote 〃Allan〃 against mine。



Alas!  Within the last dozen years chance took me past Maraisfontein

once more。  The house had long been rebuilt; but this particular wall

yet stood。  I rode to it and looked; and there faintly could still be

seen the name Marie; against the little line; and by it the mark that I

had made。  My own name and with it subsequent measurements were gone;

for in the intervening forty years or so the sandstone had flaked away

in places。  Only her autograph remained; and when I saw it I think that

I felt even worse than I did on finding whose was the old Bible that I

had bought upon the market square at Maritzburg。



I know that I rode away hurriedly without even stopping to inquire into

whose hands the farm had passed。  Through the peach orchard I rode;

where the treesperhaps the same; perhaps otherswere once more in

bloom; for the season of the year was that when Marie and I first met;

nor did I draw rein for half a score of miles。



But here I may state that Marie always stayed just half an inch the

taller in body; and how much taller in mind and spirit I cannot tell。





When we had finished our measuring match Marie turned to lead me to the

house; and; pretending to observe for the first time the beautiful

bustard and the two koran hanging from my saddle; also the klipspringer

buck that Hans the Hottentot carried behind him on his horse; asked:



〃Did you shoot all these; Allan Quatermain?〃



〃Yes;〃 I answered proudly; 〃I killed them in four shots; and the pauw

and koran were flying; not sitting; which is more than you could have

done; although you are taller; Miss Marie。〃



〃I do not know;〃 she answered reflectively。  〃I can shoot very well with

a rifle; for my father has taught me; but I never would shoot at living

things unless I must because I was hungry; for I think that to kill is

cruel。  But; of course; it is different with men;〃 she added hastily;

〃and no doubt you will be a great hunter one day; Allan Quatermain;

since you can already aim so well。〃



〃I hope so;〃 I answered; blushing at the compliment; 〃for I love

hunting; and when there are so many wild things it does not matter if we

kill a few。  I shot these for you and your father to eat。〃



〃Come; then; and give them to him。  He will thank you;〃 and she led the

way through the gate in the sandstone wall into the yard; where the

outbuildings stood in which the riding horses and the best of the

breeding cattle were kept at night; and so past the end of the long;

one…storied house; that was stone…built and whitewashed; to the stoep or

veranda in front of it。



On the broad stoep; which commanded a pleasant view over rolling;

park…like country; where mimosa and other trees grew in clumps; two men

were seated; drinking strong coffee; although it was not yet ten o'clock

in the morning。



Hearing the sound of the horses; one of these; Mynheer Marais; whom I

already knew; rose from his hide…strung chair。  He was; as I think I

have said; not in the least like one of the phlegmatic Boers; either in

person or in temperament; but; rather; a typical Frenchman; although no

member of his race had set foot in France for a hundred and fifty years。

 At least so I discovered afterwards; for; of course; in those days I

knew nothing of Frenchmen。



His companion was also French; Leblanc by name; but of a very different

stamp。  In person he was short and stout。  His large head was bald

except for a fringe of curling; iron…grey hair which grew round it just

above the ears and fell upon his shoulders; giving him the appearance of

a tonsured but dishevelled priest。  His eyes were blue and watery; his

mouth was rather weak; and his cheeks were pale; full and flabby。  When

the Heer Marais rose; I; being an observant youth; noted that Monsieur

Leblanc took the opportunity to stretch out a rather shaky hand and fill

up his coffee cup out of a black bottle; which from the smell I judged

to contain peach brandy。



In fact; it may as well be said at once that the poor man was a

drunkard; which explains how he; with all his high education and great

ability; came to hold the humble post of tutor on a remote Boer farm。 

Years before; when under the influence of drink; he had committed some

crime in FranceI don't know what it was; and never inquiredand fled

to the Cape to avoid prosecution。  Here he obtained a professorship at

one of the colleges; but after a while appeared in the lecture…room

quite drunk and lost his employment。  The same thing happened in other

towns; till at last he drifted to distant Maraisfontein; where his

employer tolerated his weakness for the sake of the intellectual

companionship for which something in his own nature seemed to crave。 

Also; he looked upon him as a compatriot in distress; and a great bond

of union between them was their mutual and virulent hatred of England

and the English; which in the case of Monsieur Leblanc; who in his youth

had fought at Waterloo and been acquainted with the great Emperor; was

not altogether unnatural。



Henri Marais's case was different; but of that I shall have more to say

later。



〃Ah; Marie;〃 said her father; speaking in Dutch; 〃so you have found him

at last;〃 and he nodded towards me; adding: 〃You should be flattered;

little man。  Look you; this missie has been sitting for two hours in the

sun waiting for you; although I told her you would not arrive much

before ten o'clock; as your father the predicant said you would

breakfast before you started。  Well; it is natural; for she is lonely

here; and you are of an age; although of a different race〃; and his face

darkened as he spoke the words。



〃Father;〃 answered Marie; whose blushes I could see even in the shadow

of her cap; 〃I was not sitting in the sun; but under the shade of a

peach tree。  Also; I was working out the sums that Monsieur Leblanc set

me on my slate。  See; here they are;〃 and she held up the slate; which

was covered with figures; somewhat smudged; it is true; by the rubbing

of my stiff hair and of her cap。



Then Monsieur Leblanc broke in; speaking in French; of which; as it

chanced I understood the sense; for my father had grounded me in that

tongue; and I am naturally quick at modern languages。  At any rate; I

made out that he was asking if I was the little 〃cochon d'anglais;〃 or

English pig; whom for his sins he had to teach。  He added that he judged

I must be; as my hair stuck up on my headI had taken off my hat out of

politenessas it naturally would do on a pig's back。



This was too much for me; so; before either of the others could speak; I

answered in Dutch; for rage made me eloquent and bold:



〃Yes; I am he; but; mynheer; if you are to be my master; I hope you will

not call the English pigs any more to me。〃



〃Indeed; gamin〃 (that is; little scamp); 〃and pray; what will happen if

I am so bold as to repeat that truth?〃



〃I think; mynheer;〃 I replied; growing white with rage at this new

insult; 〃the same that has happened to yonder buck;〃 and I pointed to

the klipspringer behind Hans's saddle。  〃I mean that I shall shoot you。〃



〃Peste!  Au moins il a du courage; cet enfant〃 (At least the child is

plucky); exclaimed Monsieur Leblanc; astonished。  From that moment; I

may add; he respected me; and never again insulted my country to my

face。



Then Marais broke out; speaking in Dutch that I might understand:



〃It is you who should be called pig; Leblanc; no

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