It stood on a green and swelling mound behind which was a wooded kloof where ran a stream that at last precipitated itself in a waterfall over a great cliff.

Then in front was that glorious view of the bush-veld, at which a man might look for a lifetime and not grow tired, stretching away to the Oliphant's river and melting at last into the dim line of the horizon.
The house itself also, although not large, was of a kind new to me.

It was deep, but narrow fronted, and before it were four columns that carried the roof which projected so as to form a wide verandah.

Moreover it seemed to be built of marble which glistened like snow in the setting sun.

In short in that lonely wilderness, at any rate from this distance, it did look like the deserted shrine of some forgotten god.
"Well, I'm bothered!" I said.
"So am I," answered Anscombe, "to know the name of the Lydenburg district architect whom I should like to employ; though I suspect it is the surroundings that make the place look so beautiful.
Hullo! here comes somebody, but he doesn't look like an architect; he looks like a wicked baronet disguised as a Boer." True enough, round a clump of bush appeared an unusual looking person, mounted on a very good horse.