An I.D.B. in South Africa   By: Louise Vescelius-Sheldon

An I.D.B. in South Africa, by Louise Vescelius Sheldon.

AN I.D.B. IN SOUTH AFRICA, BY LOUISE VESCELIUS SHELDON.

CHAPTER ONE.

THE MARKED DIAMOND.

"Who is that beautiful woman in the box opposite us, Herr Schwatka?"

"Which one, Major? There are two, if my eyes may be trusted."

"She with the dark hair?"

"That is Mrs Laure, and the gentleman is her husband, Donald Laure."

"What a beautiful creature, is she not?"

"Yes, beautiful indeed, as many of the Cape women are. But the union of European with African produces, in their descendants, beings endowed with strange and inconsistent natures. These two bloods mingle but will not blend; more prominently are these idiosyncrasies developed where the Zulu parentage can be traced, and naturally so, for the Zulus are the most intelligent of all the African tribes. Now they are all love, tenderness, and devotion, ready to make any sacrifice for those on whom their affections are placed; again revengeful, jealous, vindictive."

"But surely that woman has no African blood in her veins," said the major.

"Yes," replied Schwatka, quietly; "but the fact is not generally known."

"What eyes! I should like to know such a woman. To analyse character moulded in such a form would be a delightful study. And the lady with her, who may she be?" continued the major.

"Miss Kate Darcy, an American lady now visiting her brother, a director in the Standard Diamond Mining Company. These Americans, turn up everywhere," and Schwatka lifted his shoulders with an expressive shrug.

"Then the gentleman with her is the brother, eh?" persistently continued the major.

"No, that is Count Telfus, a large dealer in diamonds, said to have made much money. There goes the curtain."

The preceding conversation between Major Kildare and Herr Schwatka took place in a box of the Theatre Royal on the Kimberley Diamond Fields. As Schwatka looked at Donald Laure, the latter glanced across the house; their eyes met and a sign of recognition passed between them. Presently Mrs Laure turned, disclosing an exquisitely beautiful face, but one apparently unconscious of the effect of its beauty. Her height was slightly below the average, and her form faultless. Her short, black, wavy hair adorned a small but beautifully shaped head, crowning a swan like neck, encircled by a necklace of diamonds and rubies sparkling like drops of dew. Her toilet was conspicuous by its elegance an elegance that well became her unusual style.

Shortly before the end of the first act, while the attention of the audience was riveted on the stage, a man quietly entered the Laure box, and touching Count Telfus on the shoulder whispered a few words in his ear. The Count gave a sudden start, his face blanching perceptibly, but with perfect composure of carriage he arose, and, excusing himself to the ladies, retired from the box. The stranger had entered unnoticed by the other occupants, who were attentively listening to the music of the opera, with the exception of Donald Laure, who had been an observer of the proceeding. As the curtain fell at the end of the act he followed the Count.