Yes, there were so many "buts" rising up in the way. The slightest
hitch would spoil all, and they would be detected and subjected to the
roughest of usage, even if they were not shot. But it was worth the
risk, and the thinker's heart began to beat faster, and his hand stole
to the part of his jacket where he had hidden the despatch, and as he
did so he mentally saw himself and his companion riding through the
darkness with the Boers, and waiting for an opportunity to dash off,
taking the enemy so by surprise that they would be off and away and well
into the gloom before they could be followed.
Once well mounted, with the open veldt before them, and the darkness for
their friend, he felt that it would go hard if they did not escape.
He had come to this point, and was full of a wild exhilaration, feeling
at heart that the venture only wanted the dash with which they would
infuse it, when his attention was taken up by seeing the Boer leader
with about half-a-dozen of his field-cornets pass by the open end of the
tent and cross the laager.
He watched them with some anxiety, and then all at once his heart began
to sink with a sudden attack of despair, for two of the party went off
in front, unfastened the reins by which the two Basuto ponies were
tethered to the wagon-wheels, and led them to where the Boer leader and
the rest had halted, prior to putting the little animals through their
paces as if to test their powers in connection with some object in view.
A castle in the air dashed down into nothingness, and he uttered a low
groan, which made Ingleborough start up with a wondering look in his
eyes.