If either Denham or I had felt the slightest disposition to run, it was
checked by the brotherly feeling that one could not escape without the
other; but even if we had made the attempt it would have been
impossible, for the words uttered by the big Boer at my side acted like
the application of a spark to a keg of gunpowder. In an instant there
was an explosion. Men leaped to their feet, rifle in hand; there was a
roar of voices; yells and shouts were mingled with bursts of talking
which rose into a hurricane of gabble, out of which, mingled with oaths
and curses delivered in the vilest Dutch, I made out, "Spies--shoot--
hang them;" and it seemed that after thrusting ourselves into the
hornets' nest we were to be stung to death.
The noise was deafening, and as we were held men plucked and tore at us,
while the roar of voices seemed to run to right and left all along the
line, alarm spreading; with the result that those outside the narrow
space where the facts were known took it to be a sudden attack from the
rear, and began firing at random in the darkness. In spite of the
despair that came over me, I even then could not help feeling a kind of
exultation--satisfaction--call it what you will--at the surprise we had
given the blundering Boers, and thinking that if the Colonel had been
prepared with our men to charge into them at once, the whole line of the
enemy for far enough to right and left would have turned and fled, after
an ineffectual fire which must have done far more harm to their friends
than to their foes, and then scattered before our fellows like dead
leaves before a gale.
However, we were not to be torn to pieces just then by the infuriated
Boers, for we were each held firmly by two burly fellows, while
Moriarty, yelling at the excited crowd in his highly-pitched voice,
opened and held the lantern on high, so as to get a good look at our
disfigured faces. The light fell upon his own as well, and I saw him
start and shrink, as if for the moment he fancied that we had returned
from the dead. But his dismay was only momentary. Then a malevolent
grin of exultation came over his countenance, his eyes scintillated in
the lantern light, and he yelled orders to those around till he obtained
comparative silence.
"Pass the word all along the line," he shouted. "False alarm. Only
spies, and we have got them. Cease firing."
His words had but little effect for a few minutes; but by degrees the
tumult was stilled and the firing ceased. The men about us readily
obeyed the Irish captain's orders.
"They're old fr'inds of mine," he said, with a peculiar grin--"dear
fr'inds who have come after me to join our ranks; and I'm going to make
them take the oaths properly."
There was a groan of dissent at this, but Moriarty paid no heed; he only
showed his teeth at us in a savage grin like that of some wild beast
about to spring.
"Yes," he continued, "they're old fr'inds of mine--dear fr'inds. That
one"--he pointed to me--"is a deserter from our forces, and the other
miserable brute is an officer who has been fighting against us and
helping his companion. Be cool and calm, dear boys, and as soon as it
is light you shall have the pleasure of shooting the young scoundrels.
For we're all soldiers now, and we must behave like military min, unless
you would like to set a Kaffir to hang them both from a tripod of
dissel-booms at the two ends of a rein."
"Shoot them! Shoot them!" came in a burst of voices.
"Very well, we'll shoot them; but we must do it properly. We'll have a
court-martial upon them, and teach the spies to crawl into our camp like
snakes."
"It's a lie!" I shouted. "We are no spies."
"Ah! you understand the beautiful language of my fr'inds," cried
Moriarty. "You are not spies, then?"
"No, neither of us," I said in Dutch.
"Indade?" said Moriarty. "And perhaps you are not a deserter from our
troops?"
Amidst hootings, groans, and yells, I managed to make myself heard.
"No," I said, "I am not a deserter. I am English, and I refused to
fight against my own countrymen."
A savage yell greeted my plain words; but Moriarty held up his hand.
"Let him condemn himself out of his own lips, brethren," he cried.--
Then, to me, "You preferred to fight against and shoot down the people
among whom you dwelt?" he cried.
"I joined my own people," I replied; "and this gentleman with me is no
spy."
"What is he, then?" said Moriarty, holding up his hand in the light of
the lantern he kept aloft, so as to secure silence.
"An officer and a gentleman of the Light Horse."
"Indade!" said Moriarty sneeringly. "Then you have both had enough of
the British forces, and have desarted to ours?"
"No," I said coolly. "We have both been badly wounded, as you can see,
and we wanted to break through the lines and get away."
"What for?" said Moriarty fiercely. "What for?"
"We are too weak to fight," I said.
"Bah!" roared Moriarty, "you are both spies; and do you hear? You shall
both be shot by-and-by."
A yell of triumph, which sounded like a chorus of savage beasts in
anticipation of blood, rose from all around.
"Get reins and tie their arms behind them, my brothers. They're
English, and can spake nothing but lies."
As some of the men hurried away to fetch the necessary cords, I turned
to one of the big Boers who held me.
"Is it a lie," I said, "that my friend has been badly wounded? Is it a
lie that I have been hurt?"
There was a low growl for reply from one, and the other--the man who had
first discovered my presence--only said, "But you are spies."
"What are they all saying, Val?" said Denham coolly. "I don't seem to
get on at all in this game."
"They say we're spies," I replied.
"Let 'em. A set of thick-headed pigs. Don't be downhearted over it
all, old chap. We played our game well, and we've lost. We're
prisoners; that's all. They daren't shoot us."