West stepped to his companion's side, looked out between the rough
curtains of the wagon, and saw a group of mounted Boers surrounding a
freshly-arrived wagon with its long team of bullocks, the black
voorlooper at the head and the driver with his enormous whip on the box.
"Well," said West, after a sharp glance, "there's a fresh load of
provisions, I suppose! What of it?"
"Rub your eyes, lad, and look again."
"They don't want rubbing."
"Well, of all the fellows! Look there, beyond those mounted men who
escorted the wagon in--there where the commandant and the dismounted
party are talking together."
"Yes, I see where you mean; but what has it to do with us? I don't--
yes, I do. Why, it's Anson!" cried West excitedly.
"Anson it is! I began to think you were going blind!"
"But how strange! They have taken him prisoner then. Look here; we're
not going to have him with us."
"It doesn't look as if he is a prisoner," said Ingleborough; "they all
seem too friendly. I believe the scoundrel has deserted from the town
and come to join the Boers. What has old Norton been about?"
"Is it possible?"
"Oh, it's possible enough, if old Norton has been to sleep. Rats desert
sinking ships!"
"Kimberley isn't a sinking ship!" said West indignantly.
"I don't know so much about that, lad! There is a very small force
ready to defend it; it's a long way from help; and, as we see here, the
enemy is swarming down upon it from all directions. You see, it's so
far from our forces and so near to the Free State border."
"Ah, there he is plainly enough, laughing with the commandant! Look, he
clapped him on the shoulder!"
"Yes, I give him credit for anything!" said Ingleborough. "I shouldn't
wonder if he was in full correspondence with the Boers and is ready to
sell us as well as buy diamonds. As likely as not, he has slipped away
with his swag so as to escape before the fighting begins. But how
Norton can have let him get away is more than I can understand!"
"Well, it's plain enough that he's here!" said West; "and I can't help
feeling glad that he is not a prisoner, for if he had been put with us
it must have come to a quarrel. Look here, seeing what the treacherous
thief is, we ought to denounce him to the commandant."
"Don't do anything of the kind! What good would it do?"
"But he is such a despicable wretch!"
"What's that to you?"
"Ingleborough!"
"Oh yes, I know what you're ready to say; but you've got something else
to do besides playing the virtuous part of denouncing Master Anson as a
diamond-dealer. Besides, I don't believe the Boers would think any the
less of him if they believed you."
"They couldn't help believing our evidence!" said West.
"Nonsense! It isn't your business!"
"It's every honest man's business!" cried West hotly.
"Not if he is on Government service with a despatch to deliver in
Mafeking," said Ingleborough, with a peculiar look at his companion.
"Hah!" cried West; "you are right again! But--oh!"
"Oh, what?"
"Why, he was present when we volunteered to carry the despatch!"
"To be sure, so he was!" cried Ingleborough excitedly.
"Then as soon as he knows we have been captured he'll denounce me to the
commandant as the bearer of the message, and oh, Ingle, we shall be
searched again!"
"Yes," was the thoughtful reply; "and you've got it on you. We might
change jackets, but that would be no good. Could you rip it out of
yours?"
"Yes, of course, in a few moments."
"Then you'd better."
"Not now; it's too late. We must wait for a better opportunity."
"But--"
"No, no, I tell you," cried West excitedly; "look, he's not a prisoner.
The scoundrel has recognised us and is coming here. Why, Ingleborough,
he's a traitor--a rebel. No wonder he got through the Boer lines.
Look! there can be no doubt about it; he has joined their side. Those
men, the Boer leaders, the commandants and field-cornets, cannot know
that he is a thief."
"But they soon shall!" answered Ingleborough hoarsely.
"No, no, keep quiet," whispered West; "he's laughing with them and
coming here. Don't say a word; wait! It's my advice now."
"If I can!" muttered Ingleborough. "The skunk! He's sending the blood
dancing through my veins! He must be denounced, and if he begins to say
a word about your volunteering to bear the despatch I'll let him have it
hot and strong."
"Why, you seem to have completely turned your coat!" said West bitterly.
"I have! What we have just been saying has stirred up all my bile. But
I wish I could turn your coat too--out of the wagon."
"Why not?" said West, as a thought occurred to him, and running to the
other end of the vehicle, stripping off his jacket as he did so, he
thrust out his head and called to the sentry whose duty it was to guard
against any attempt to escape.
"What is it?" said the man quietly.
"Take my coat and hang it on the rocks yonder," he said. "I've been
sleeping in it night after night, and it's all fusty and damp. Out
yonder, right in the sun."
The request was so simple and reasonable that the man nodded, took the
jacket, and was turning to go away.
"Don't let anyone meddle with it," said West; "it's my only one, and I
don't want a Kaffir to carry it off."
"He'd better not try!" said the Boer, with a meaning laugh, and he bore
the jacket right away to where the sun was beating hotly upon the rock,
where the next minute the garment was spread out.
"Talk about me having a ready wit in an emergency!" said Ingleborough
merrily; "why, I'm a baby to you, West, my son! There: I'm proud of
you."
"Oh, but the risk!" whispered the young man. "That precious garment
lying carelessly yonder!"
"Carelessly? That's just the way to keep it safe. Who'd ever think of
examining the coat lying out there?"
"The first man who goes near it!"
"The first rogue, and he'd only feel in the pockets. But there's no
fear: that sentry would fire at any thief who tried to steal! That's
safe enough!"
"I wish I could think so!" replied West. "The first thing when they
come will be to ask me what I have done with my jacket."
"Pooh! In that loose, dark flannel shirt they'll never think of it. I
thought they'd have been here, though, before now."
They had to wait for some little time still, for the Boers had gathered
about the new-comer, forming a half-circle, evidently to listen while
Anson talked to them earnestly, his gesticulations suggesting to Ingle
borough, rightly or wrongly, that he was describing the arrangements for
defence made by the British garrison at Kimberley, which he had so
lately left; and as he spoke every now and then the listeners nodded,
slapped the stocks of their rifles, turned to make remarks to one
another, and gave the speaker a hearty cheer.
"Oh, you beauty!" growled Ingleborough. "I can't hear a word you say;
but I'm as certain as if I were close up that you're telling those
chuckle-headed Dutch that all they've got to do is to march straight in
and take Kimberley, for they'll find it as easy as kissing their hands."
"If he is telling them the weak points it's downright treason," said
West bitterly, after a glance out of the wagon in the direction of the
rocks on which lay his jacket.
"It's stand him up with a firing party, and a sergeant with a revolver
to finish the work if it isn't quite done," said Ingleborough. "The
cowardly scoundrel: he'll be getting his deserts at last! I say,
though, isn't it sickening? A blackguard like that, who doesn't stop at
anything to gain his ends!"
For Anson had finished speaking and the Boers had closed round him,
patting him on the back and pressing forward one after the other to
shake his hand, while he smiled at them in his mildest, blandest way.
After a few more friendly words the ex-clerk began slouching slowly up,
followed by half-a-dozen of the principal men, till he was close to the
tail of the prison wagon where West and Ingleborough were seated trying
to look perfectly indifferent, but the former with his heart beating
heavily and a flush coming hotly into his cheeks, when the Boers stopped
short, leaving Anson to speak, listening the while as if they
anticipated a little amusement from their new friend the informer
hailing the prisoners in the wain.
"Hullo!" cried Anson, with one of his most irritating smiles--one full
of the triumph over them he enjoyed and the contempt he felt, "hullo!
Who'd have thought that the virtuous West and the enthusiastic sham
detective Ingleborough would have come out here to join the Boers? But
don't tell me. I know: I can see how it is. You've both been bled, and
that's let some of the bounce out of you."
He stopped for a moment for those he insulted to reply, but as they both
sat looking at him in cool contempt he went on jeeringly: "The Boers
know what they're about, I see. When a horse has the megrims they bleed
him in the ear, and judging that the same plan would do for a donkey
they've bled cocky West there, and bull-headed Ingleborough on the
skull."
West's face grew of a deeper red, and he drew in a long deep breath, for
those of the Boers who understood English burst into a hearty laugh at
this sally of the renegade's.
"Well, I'm glad of it!" continued Anson, taking the Boers' laughter as
so much approval. "It was all you wanted, Bully West, and I daresay,
now that you've come to your senses, you'll make a decent Boer. There,
I'll give you a recommendation for a clerkship, for you do really write
a decent hand."
"Say thanks," growled Ingleborough, with a sneer which told of his
contempt; "he will no doubt have plenty of interest. He has come up to
lead the Boer army's band and give lessons on the flute."
Anson started as if he had been stung.
"Quiet, man, quiet!" whispered West to Ingleborough; but it was in vain.