They are holding a meeting in Parkwold tonight, as they held one last night in Turffontein, and will hold one tomorrow night in Mayfair. And the people will ask for more police, and for heavier sentences for native housebreakers, and for the death penalty for all who carry weapons when they break in. And some will ask for a new native policy, that will show the natives who is the master, and for a curb on the activities of Kafferboeties and Communists.

And the Left Club is holding a meeting too, on "A Long-term Policy for Native Crime," and has invited both European and non-European speakers to present a symposium. And the Cathedral Guild is holding a meeting too, and the subject is "The Real Causes of Native Crime." But there will be a gloom over it, for the speaker of the evening, Mr. Arthur Jarvis, has just been shot dead in his house at Parkwold.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

Mr. Msimangu?

Ah, it is Mrs. Ndlela, of End St.

Mr. Msimangu, the police have been to me.

The police?

Yes, they want to know about the son of the old umfundisi. They are looking for him.

For what, mother?

They did not say, Mr. Msimangu.

Is it bad, mother?

It looks as if it were bad.

And then, mother?

I was frightened, umfundisi. So I gave them the address. Mrs. Mkize, 79 Twenty-third Avenue, Alexandra. And one said yes, this woman was known to deal in heavy matters.

You gave them the address?

He stood silent in the door.

Did I do wrong, umfundisi?

You did no wrong, mother.

I was afraid.

It is the law, mother. We must uphold the law.

I am glad, umfundisi.

He thanks the simple woman, and tells her to go well. He stands for a moment, then turns swiftly and goes to his room. He takes out an envelope from a drawer, and takes paper money from it. He looks at it ruefully, and then with decision puts it into his pocket, with decision takes down his hat. Then dressed, with indecision looks out of the window to the house of Mrs. Lithebe, and shakes his head. But he is too late, for as he opens his door, k.u.malo stands before him.

You are going out, my friend?

Msimangu is silent. I was going out, he says at last.

But you said you would work in your room today.

And Msimangu would have said, can I not do as I wish, but something prevented him. Come in, he said.

I would not disturb you, my friend.

Come in, said Msimangu, and he shut the door. My friend, I have just had a visit from Mrs. Ndlela, at the house we visited in End Street, here in Sophiatown.

k.u.malo hears the earnest tones. There is news? he asks, but there is fear, not eagerness, in his voice.

Only this, said Msimangu, that the police came to her house, looking for the boy. She gave them the address, Mrs. Mkize, at 79 Twenty-third Avenue in Alexandra.

Why do they want the boy? asked k.u.malo in a low and trembling voice.

That we do not know. I was ready to go there when you came.

k.u.malo looked at him out of sad and grateful eyes, so that the resentment of the other died out of him. You were going alone? the old man asked.

I was going alone, yes. But now that I have told you, you may come also.

How were you going, my friend? There are no buses.

I was going by taxi. I have money.

I too have money. No one must pay but me.

It will take a great deal of money.

k.u.malo opened his coat, and took out his purse eagerly. Here is my money, he said.

We shall use it then. Come, let us look for a taxi.

Mrs. Mkize!

She drew back, hostile.

Have the police been here?

They have been, not long since.

And what did they want?

They wanted the boy.

And what did you say?

I said it was a year since he left here.

And where have they gone?

To Shanty Town. She draws back again, remembering.

To the address you did not know, he said coldly.

She looks at him sullenly. What could I do, she said. It was the police.

No matter. What was the address?

I did not know the address. Shanty Town, I told them.

Some fire came into her. I told you I did not know the address, she said.

Mrs. Hlatshwayo!

The pleasant-faced woman smiled at them, and drew aside for them to enter the hessian house.

We shall not come in. Have the police been here?

They were here, umfundisi.

And what did they want?

They wanted the boy, umfundisi.

For what, mother?

I do not know, umfundisi.

And where have they gone?

To the school, umfundisi.

Tell me, he said privately, did it seem heavy?

I could not say, umfundisi.

Stay well, Mrs. Hlatshwayo.

Go well, umfundisi.

Good morning, my friend.

Good morning, umfundisi, said the native a.s.sistant.

Where is the young white man?

He is in the town. It was now, now, that he went.

Have the police been here?

They have been here. It was now, now, that they left.

What did they want?

They wanted the boy, Absalom k.u.malo, the son of the old man there in the taxi.

Why did they want him?

I do not know. I had other work, and went out while they came in with the white man.

And you do not know what they wanted?

I truly do not know, umfundisi.

Msimangu was silent. Did it seem heavy? he asked at last.

I do not know. I really could not say.

Was the young white man - well, disturbed?

He was disturbed.

How did you know?

The a.s.sistant laughed. I know him, he said.

And where did they go?

To Pimville, umfundisi. To the home of the girl.

Now, now, you said.

Now, now, indeed.

We shall go then. Stay well. And tell the white man we came.

Go well, umfundisi. I shall tell him.

My child!

Umfundisi.

Have the police been here?

They have been here, now, now, they were here.

And what did they want?

They wanted Absalom, umfundisi.

And what did you tell them?