Chapter 34 | Another Start | A Dash From Diamond City
Before Anson’s jaw had time to return to its place the sergeant and his men sprang up to attention, looking as stiff as if on parade.
West was the first to see the reason, and he nudged Ingleborough, just as a stern voice asked what was wrong.
“Bit of a row, sir, between the two despatch-riders and this prisoner, sir,” replied the sergeant. “Prisoner charges these two gentlemen with assaulting him. Says he’s a Boer!”
The new-comer, who had four officers in attendance upon him during what was apparently a tour of inspection of the camp, turned sharply on the two friends.
“I cannot have the prisoners ill-treated,” he said. “Why is this?”
“Because he is not a Boer, sir,” said Ingleborough sharply. “This man was in the company’s office with us at Kimberley. He is little better than a thief, or worse, for he is a receiver of stolen goods, an Englishman, an illicit buyer of diamonds, and a renegade who gave information to and deserted to the Boers.”
“That will do,” said the General. “Half of your charges would condemn him. Sergeant, see that this prisoner is carefully guarded. He will be tried later on. I am too busy to attend to such matters now.”
Anson gave vent to a gasp, after listening to the general’s orders for his safe custody.
But, though he was listening to the orders given, his eyes were otherwise employed. They were half-closed, but fixed intently upon West, and they did not quit his face till the sergeant clapped him on the shoulder, saying: “Now, Mr Piet Retif, this way!”
Then he started violently, and was marched off to be placed with certain of the prisoners who were the most carefully guarded.
“Did you notice anything in particular just before Anson was led off?” said Ingleborough.
“No. Poor wretch. I’m sorry for him!”
“Keep your sorrow for a more worthy object, my lad, and mind and give that fellow a wide berth if ever he gets his liberty again.”
“Which he will, of course.”
“Well, perhaps so, for the Company can’t give the diamond-buyer all they would like! But when he does get free, you be careful!”
“Why, what harm can he do me?”
“Can’t say,” said Ingleborough abruptly; “but something or another ill you may take it for granted he will do. I’ve been watching his face, and read what it means! Of course, he doesn’t like me, for I’ve been fighting against him all along; but somehow he seems to hate you, and, mark my words, he’ll try his best to do you a mischief! He gives you the credit of being the cause of all this trouble!”
“But I’ve not been!” said West.
“No; I’ve done the scoundrel ten times the mischief that you have, for I disliked him from the very first day we met. He was too oily for me, and I always thought that he would turn out a bad one. I’m the culprit, but he means to let me alone and to take all the change out of you! That’s all—only don’t give him a chance!”
“Not I; but we shall not see much more of him, I suppose.”
“What? There’ll be a trial in a day or two, and I’ve got a pill for my gentleman.”
“What do you mean—not a lead pill?”
“Tchah! Nonsense. I mean to ask for the scoundrel’s wagon to be searched. I was afraid they would let him go back to it.”
“The wagon? Of course,” said West thoughtfully. “I had forgotten that.”
The young men’s eyes met as if they were trying to read each other’s thoughts; but no more was said then, and the next morning West and Ingleborough were summoned to the General’s wagon.
“Good morning,” said the officer sharply. “Your despatches are, of course, very important, and it is urgent that they should be delivered at once?”
“Yes, sir,” said West eagerly. “Then we may go on at once?”
The General smiled.
“No,” he replied; “all through the night scouts and natives have been coming in, and in general from different sources one has a great variety of news; but in this case, coming from parts widely asunder, I get the same announcement. Stung by the defeat I have given them and the loss of their convoy and big guns, they have been collecting in great force, evidently to try and surround me in turn and recover all they have lost.”
“Then we had better make a dash for it at once, sir, before the way is completely closed,” said West.
“The way is completely closed, young man,” said the General gravely. “East, west, north, and south, there are strong commandos with guns, and there is only one way open for you.”
“And that is?” said West excitedly, for the General had stopped.
“By going nearly due west, and cutting your way through.”
“Cutting our way through!” said West blankly, and he turned to look at Ingleborough for an explanation, but the latter only shrugged his shoulders.
“Ah, you are both puzzled!” said the General, smiling. “You want to know how you are to cut your way through! I’ll tell you: by keeping with me and letting my fellows clear the road for you!”
“But—” began West.
“There is no ‘but’ in the matter, sir,” said the General. “You are both willing messengers; but you cannot do impossibilities. If you go on in your own way you will be either shot down or captured, and in either case your despatches will fall into the enemy’s hands.”
“Unless I destroyed them first!” said West bitterly.
“Of course. That is what you would try to do, my lad, if you had time. But as you would naturally defer that till the last extremity, the probabilities are that this necessary task would be left undone. Rifle-bullets fly very swiftly, and the Boers’ traps are cleverly set, as our people are finding to their cost.”
“But the despatches must be delivered, sir,” said West excitedly, “and it is my duty to go on at any risk!”
“And mine to do two things, young gentleman,” said the General, speaking very sternly. “One is, to assist you in the task you have in hand; the other, as I find that Kimberley is being hard pressed, to try and cut my way through to the help of the brave people who are holding it against great odds. Now, as the two objects work together, your way must be with us. I may not be able to force my way through, but I can certainly see you well on your way.”
“Then we are to stop with your cavalry brigade, sir?” said West, in disappointed tones.
“Certainly, as long as I am making a forward movement, which will commence at once. If I find it necessary to diverge from the course laid down, on account of the extent of the convoy I have captured and the number of prisoners, I shall give you fair warning, so that you may make a dash for yourselves. There, gentlemen, I am busy. You will attach yourselves to my staff, and help keep a watch over the loot in diamonds.”
Taking this to be a dismissal, the two young men retired to talk the matter over in their own quarters.
“I don’t like it!” said West excitedly. “We have our orders as to what we are to do about the despatch! Ought we to let a cavalry general override those instructions?”
“I suppose so,” replied Ingleborough. “Perhaps, after all, he is right.”
“Right?”
“Well, he knows from good information the state of the country, and we do not. It would be better for your despatch never to be delivered than for it to fall into the enemy’s hands.”
“Of course!”
“Then why not take matters as you find them? Are we not going to take news for our General over yonder, and reinforcements as well?”
“Yes, I hope so,” replied West; “but one does not like when one’s plans are made to have them interfered with.”
“Of course not,” said Ingleborough, laughing; “but we started with fixed plans from Kimberley, and we’ve been interfered with and baffled ever since.”
“But we did get the despatch to Mafeking!”
“Yes, even when it seemed quite hopeless; and we’re going to get the answer back to Kimberley yet.”
“I hope so,” said West gloomily.
“Bah! What a grumbler you are, Noll! Nothing seems to satisfy you! Haven’t we turned the tables completely upon that fat pink innocent?”
West nodded his head.
“Isn’t he prisoner instead of us?”
“Yes, that’s true!”
“And hasn’t he proved your innocence and his own guilt before those officers?”
“Yes, he has done that!” said West, with his puckered face smoothing out.
“Then just confess that you are a growling, discontented, hard-to-satisfy young humbug.”
“I do—frankly!” cried West, laughing outright.
“Come, that’s something; and I begin to think that I will forgive you and stick to you after all, instead of following out my own ideas.”
“Your own ideas?” said West, looking at his companion enquiringly. “What were those?”
“Well,” said Ingleborough, in his dry stolid manner; “Shakespeare was a very able man.”
“My dear Ingle,” cried West, staring, “whatever has Shakespeare got to do with your plans?”
“Everything, you young ignoramus. Doesn’t he say something about there being a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, will lead to fortune?”
“I believe so; but I wish he could point out the tide that would take our live barque safe into Kimberley.”
“Ah, but you see he does not; his works were written for people living in a wet country where there are plenty of rivers and seas. He didn’t know anything about the veldt, and, in fact, he was not very strong in his geography, or he wouldn’t have written about the sea coast of Bohemia.”
“There,” cried West, “you’re getting into one of your long-winded arguments, and I’m waiting to hear your plans!”
“Oh, they are only these!” said Ingleborough very gravely. “Being a poor man and seeing the tide at its height, I thought to myself that there could be no harm in annexing a rogue’s plunder when it is as plain as the nose on one’s face that we have as good a right to it as all the officers and Tommy Atkinses of this brigade. I came to the conclusion that I’d get you to stand in with me on fair halves principle, and go off with the diamonds in that barrel, calling at Kimberley as we go to leave that despatch, and then going on to the Cape, and then home.”
“No, you did not, Ingle,” said West quietly; “so don’t talk bosh! Look, they’re striking tents, inspanning, and getting off.”
“By George! so they are. And hallo! what does this mean—an attack?”
“A battery of Horse Artillery guns,” cried West. “Then we are going on in real earnest.”
“Yes,” said Ingleborough, “and so our friends the Boers will find.”