The
lad was not trying to walk softly, and the heavy shuffling of the well-
known velschoens could be clearly heard through the closed window as they
crossed the stones in the yard. Bonaparte listened till they had died away
round the corner of the wagon-house; and, feeling that his bare legs were
getting cold, he jumped back into bed again.
...
"What do you keep up in your loft?" inquired Bonaparte of the Boer-woman
the next evening, pointing upwards and elucidating his meaning by the
addition of such Dutch words as he knew, for the lean Hottentot was gone
home.
"Dried skins," said the Boer-woman, "and empty bottles, and boxes, and
sacks, and soap."
"You don't keep any of your provisions there--sugar, now?" said Bonaparte,
pointing to the sugar-basin and then up at the loft.
Tant Sannie shook her head.
"Only salt, and dried peaches."
"Dried peaches! Eh?" said Bonaparte. "Shut the door, my dear child, shut
it tight," he called out to Em, who stood in the dining room. Then he
leaned over the elbow of the sofa and brought his face as close as possible
to the Boer-woman's, and made signs of eating. Then he said something she
did not comprehend; then said, "Waldo, Waldo, Waldo," pointed up to the
loft, and made signs of eating again.
Now an inkling of his meaning dawned on the Boer-woman's mind.
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