Monday. So we had very little time to spare. Lieut. Maund
gave up all for lost, but I assured him that the hurry was all for
the best, as there would be so little time for pros and cons. On
the Thursday afternoon I received a happy letter from him,
saying that consent had been given, and that the chiefs were to
be taken to Windsor Castle on Saturday at 3 o'clock. I hoped
all was now in good train, but on the following day-Friday
afternoon-
-a terrible hitch occurred. Lieut. Maund wrote me
word that, though the chiefs were to be welcomed, he was not to
be allowed to accompany them-the fact being, as Sir Hercules
had forescen, that it is not usual for a private gentleman to be
received on such a mission at Court. He wrote to me therefore
to say that he was in a great difficulty; he was not at all anxious
to intrude on Her Majesty, but the chiefs would not stir without
him. They said, "the King told us that Maundy was to be our
Father. We were not to be afraid of the great White Queen;
we don't understand this at all, and if Maundy does not go with
us we shall go straight home to Matabeleland."

I immediately tried to find Lord Knutsford, and put the case before him, but I could not succeed in seeing him; I could merely send a note up to his room. However, late in the evening I ascertained that Lord Lothian had set to work afresh, and had overcome the difficulty, and that all was settled for the interview on the following day. It is amusing to notice how these two blacks had brought all the authorities round!

The interview took place, and the Queen received them with the utmost kindness, having no doubt by this time become thoroughly interested in the whole matter. Lieut. Maund came to report progress to me immediately after his return from Windsor. He said Her Majesty had sent a carriage to meet them, and that she also ordered a turn-out of fifty Lifeguardsmen in St. George's Hall. These magnificent soldiers are, I think, all over 6 ft. I in., and they impressed the chiefs extremely when once they had ascertained that they were not stuffed. The Queen then received them in the corridor. They were introduced by Lord Knutsford, who related to Her Majesty the whole history, and then placed in the Queen's own hand Lobengulo's letter, in which he asked for the Queen's protection against his enemies, and promised in return to be her friend. This letter Lieut. Maund had written down from the King's dictation and had caused him to affix to it some kind of seal. When the letter was placed in the Queen's hands the delight of the chiefs was extreme: their

end was accomplished. They were then entertained at luncheon, and had golden goblets to drink out of, which they imagined were from the Queen's own table. They were also shown St. George's Chapel and the curiosities of Windsor, and amongst other things they were especially pleased to see Cetewayo's assegai. On the Monday Lieut. Maund brought the chiefs to wish me good-bye. They were radiant, and, when I asked them if they knew at once which was the Queen, they replied together: "Oh, there could be no doubt which was the Queen."

I should have mentioned that the Queen very kindly spoke to them and asked them if they felt the cold, to which they replied: "How should we feel the cold, when there is a great Queen who can make it either hot or cold?" They were afterwards taken to see Woolwich and the great guns; and also a parade of troops at Aldershot. They made some acquaintance with London society, and were taken to Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral. The elder of the two, Babyjane, especially was struck with religious awe when he saw these great churches. Shortly after they re-embarked for Africa, and I have since heard they arrived home in safety.

This piece of Matabele history has, as will at once be seen, a significant bearing on the present Portuguese crisis. As in the eyes of the natives themselves the only question is "which White Power shall eat them up," they very naturally prefer that Power which is likely to perform the ceremony with kindness and justice. Now they know well enough that, under England's protection, native Powers are guarded from rapine, and Lobengulo is accordingly willing to place himself, in mere self-defence, under British protection. He is, however, a slippery savage, and if we shillyshally in the matter he will have no scruple whatever in throwing us over, and making the best terms he can with the Portuguese. I trust that nothing will tempt us to interfere with any just claims that Portugal or any other Power may possess in South Africa; but we are bound to prevent unjust aggression upon territories where England, backed by the support of the native rulers, has a prior claim.

LUCY C. F. CAVENDISH.

Marcía.

BY W. E. NORRIS.

AUTHOR OF "THIRLBY HALL," &C.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE APPROACH OF THE INEVITABLE.

AMONGST the various accomplishments which Willie Brett had acquired for he was a steady and painstaking lad—that of sailing a boat was not one. However, anybody can run before the wind, and the light north-westerly breeze which took him and his mother out of Lynmouth harbour served them very well for a couple of hours, by the end of which time they had progressed for a considerable distance down the coast. Marcia was as happy as a child, and when she was happy her conversation was apt to be as spontaneous and unthinking as that of children generally is and always ought to be. She was a good deal more childish than her son, who listened to what she had to say with curiosity and with some sadness. In certain ways he was wise beyond his years, in others he was not so that, although he was quite aware that his father and mother did not get on well together, he failed to draw the deductions which more experienced persons might have drawn from the circumstance that the latter did not disguise the melancholy fact, whereas the former never alluded to it.

"When you are grown up," Marcia was saying, "we will travel about together and amuse ourselves. I want to see Russia and Greece and Egypt and heaps of places; but it would be no fun to go there with your father, who would be bored to death the whole time. I often wonder what made me marry your father!"

"Would you rather have married somebody else?" asked Willie, after a moment or two of grave reflection.

Marcia laughed. "Oh, I don't know. No; nobody in particular. But girls are such idiots-worse even than men, which is saying something. I suppose I thought it was rather a feather in my cap to have captured an admirer whom nobody else could capture; I didn't ask myself whether he was worth capturing. How horrified your Aunt Caroline would be if she could hear me talking to you in this way!" she added presently. "I dare say it is very wrong of me; only I can't help it. I am not going to be a humbug with you, whatever I may be with the rest of the world."

No wonder the boy loved her all the more for her frankness, and no wonder he came to the conclusion that his father was wholly and solely to blame for an estrangement which seemed to him to be deplorable. It was an impression which never became quite obliterated, and, although in after years his reason sometimes convicted him of injustice, his heart always remained on the side of the affectionate, impulsive, selfish woman for whom his sentiments were fraternal rather than filial. Even now he thought it right to pave the way for a possible disappointment by reminding her that when he was grown up his time would not be his own. He was going to be a soldier, he informed her, and the movements of soldiers were, of course, a good deal hampered by the claims of their Queen and their country. "But when I get leave we'll go off on the spree, somewhere," he added encouragingly.

"I wish you were not going to be in any profession!" sighed the foolish Marcia. "It is having a profession that makes men so hard-hearted. They know that, whatever happens, they have that to fall back upon, whereas we have nothing. However, we needn't bother ourselves about the future yet; it is still a long way off, thank Heaven!"

And indeed the present soon became sufficiently interesting to engage all their attention; for the wind, after dropping, veered a point or two to the east of north and freshened considerably; insomuch that the stolid, somnolent boatman who had accompanied them expressed doubts about their getting back into harbour by sunset. They had sailed and drifted a long way down channel by this time, and Willie's nautical capacities were hardly equal to making the most that could be made out of a dead foul breeze. Moreover, a lumpy sea was getting up which neither he nor his mother altogether relished.

They both behaved as well as people who are going to be seasick can be expected to behave. They did not say much; from time to time they exchanged glances which were at first interrogative, then despairing; finally the proprietor of the craft took the tiller, and they sank into that state of total indifference and degradation at which few of us are entitled to sneer. For how long they underwent the misery of beating towards their destination and receiving occasional drenching showers of spray they neither knew nor cared. Naturally it seemed like a lifetime, and not less naturally they remained entirely oblivious of Mr. Brett and the anxiety from which he might be supposed to be suffering by reason of their protracted absence. But when at length they reached Lynmouth in the twilight there was Mr. Brett, waiting for them on the landing-steps, and, notwithstanding their forlorn and draggled appearance, it was little enough sympathy that he had at their service.

"Dinner was ready more than an hour ago," was his greeting, spoken in a very harsh tone of voice. 'Really, Marcia, this kind of thing must not occur again. I thought you must have been drowned."

"We have been much worse than drowned," returned Marcia dolefully; "we have died a hundred deaths! As for its occurring again, you may make your mind easy about that; I have had enough of boating to last me to my dying day. Now, if you want to scold, Eustace, you can scold; but you may just as well spare yourself the trouble, for we are absolutely callous. We don't want any dinner; we don't care whether you are hungry or not; we don't care a penny about anybody or anything in the wide world."

Mr. Brett was very cross, and would have liked to relieve his feelings by scolding the delinquents a little; but, under the circumstances, he could only hold his peace, and they all walked up the hill to Lynton in solemn silence. As, however, his wife, in spite of what she had said, proved able to eat a tolerably good dinner, he thought that, after Willie had gone to bed, he might without brutality give utterance to certain reflections over which he had been brooding throughout the day.

"I confess that your conduct to-day seems to me to have been a little inconsiderate, Marcia," he began; "but I won't dwell on that; you would, of course, only point out to me that you have no control over the elements. Still, I should like to