Inside and lit the lamp, then he went through to Duff's empty bedroom.

There was a copy of Twelfth Night on the bedside table and he took it

back to his own room. He sat with the lamp at his elbow and forced his

eyes to follow the printed words even though they made no sense. He

read until the dawn showed grey through the open windows, then he put

down the book.

He shaved, dressed and went down the back stairs into the hotel yard.

He found Mbejane in the stables. Put a saddle on the grey. Where are

you going, Nkosi? To the devil. Then I will come with you. No, I will

be back before midday. He rode up to the Candy Deep and tied his horse

outside the administration buildings. There was a sleepy clerk in the

front offices.

good morning, Mr Courtney. Can I help you? Yes. Get me overalls and a

helmet. Sean went to the Number Three shaft. There was a frost on the

ground that crunched as he walked on it and the sun had just cleared the

eastern ridge of the Witwatersrand. Sean stopped at the hoist shed and

spoke to the driver. Has the new shift gone on yet? all an hour ago,

sir! The man was obviously surprised to see him. the night shift

finished blasting at five o'clock. Good, drop me down to the fourteenth

level. The fourteenth is abandoned now, Mr Courtney, there's no one

working there. yes, i know. Sean walked across to the head of the

shaft. He lit his carbide lamp and while he waited for the skip he

looked out across the valley. The air was clear and the sun threw long

shadows. Everything stood out in sharp relief. He had not been up this

early in the morning for many months and he had almost forgotten how

fresh and dehcately coloured a new day was. The skip stopped in front

of him. He took a deep breath and stepped into it. When he reached the

fourteenth level he got out and pushed the recall signal for the skip

and he was alone in the earth again. He walked up the tunnel and the

echo of his footsteps went with him. He was sweating and a muscle in

his cheek started to jerk; he reached the face and set the carbide lamp

down on a ledge of rock. He checked to make sure his matches were in

his pocket, then he blew out the lamp. The darkness came squeezing down

on him.

The first half hour was the worst. Twice he had the matches in his hand

ready to strike but he stopped himself.

The sweat formed cold wet patches under his arms and the darkness filled

his open mouth and choked him. He had to fight for each lungful of air,

suck in, hold it, breathe out. First he regulated his breathing and

then slowly, slowly his mind came under control and he knew he had won.

He waited another ten minutes breathing easily and sitting relaxed with

his back against the side of the tunnel, then he lit the lamp. He was

smiling as he went back to the lift station and signalled for the skip.

When he reached the surface he stepped out and lit a cigar; he flicked

the match into the square black opening of the shaft. So much for you,

little hole.

He walked back towards the administration building.

What he could not know was that the Number Three shaft of the Candy Deep

was to take something from him just as valuable as his courage and that,

next time, what it took it would not give back. But that was many years

ahead.

By October Xanadu was nearly finished. The three of them drove out to

it as usual one Saturday afternoon.

"The builder is only six months behind schedule, now he says he'll be

finished by Christmas and I haven't found the courage yet to ask him

which Christmas, Sean remarked.

It's all the alterations Candy has thought up, Duff said. She's got the

poor man so confused he doesn't know whether he's a boy or a girl. Well,

if you'd consulted me in the first place it would have saved a lot of

trouble, Candy told them.

The carriage turned in through the marble gates and they looked around

them. Already the lawns were smooth and green and the jacaranda. trees

lining the drive were shoulder high. I think it's going to live up to

its name, that gardener's doing a good job, Sean spoke with

satisfaction. Don't you call him a gardener to his face or we'll have a

strike on our hands. He's a horticulturist, Duff smiled across at him.

Talking about names, Candy interrupted, don't you think Xanadu is, well,

a bit outlandish? No, I do not, Sean said. I picked it myself. I

think it's a darn good name. It's not dignified, why don't we call it

Fair Oaks? Firstly, because there isn't an oak tree within fifty miles

and secondly because it's already called Xanadu. Don't get cross, it was

just a suggestion. The builder met them at the top of the drive and

they began the tour of the house. That took an hour, then they left the

builder and went out into the garden. They found the gardener with a

gang of natives near the north boundary.

How's it going, Joubert? Duff greeted him. Not bad, Mr Charleywood,

but it takes time you know. You've done a damn fine job so far. It's

kind of you to say so, sir. When are you going to start laying out my

maze? The gardener looked surprised; he glanced at Candy, opened his

mouth, closed it again and looked once more at Candy.

oh, I told Joubert not to worry about the maze. Why did you do that? I

wanted a maze, ever since I visited Hampton Court as a child I've wanted

my own Maze. They are silly things, Candy told him. They just take up

a lot of space and they're not even nice to look at.

Sean thought Duff was going to argue, but he didn't.

They talked to the gardener a little longer, then they walked back

across the lawns in front of the house towards the chapel. Dufford,