, with dismay and consternation, had recognised the
stuff and had recognised the singer, and, even before the latter had
been dragged into sight, knew that it could be no other than Frank
Wenlock. So this was the obstreperous prisoner? Well, Frank Wenlock
could be pretty obstreperous, as he knew by experience.

"Still, man, still!" growled one of his escort, shaking him violently.
Here again was an old acquaintance, in the shape of Hermanus Delport.
But the big Dutchman's face was considerably damaged, one eye being
totally closed. Frank had been using his fists to some purpose. Now he
let off a volley of perfectly unprintable expletives.

"You'd dare lay a finger on me but for this _reim_, wouldn't you?" he
yelled. "I'd plug up your other eye for two pins, and every man's
blanked eyes in this camp." And more to the same effect.

"Still, man, do you hear?" repeated Hermanus, administering another
shake. "The Commandant is speaking to you. Do you hear?"

"Is he? Well, then, I don't care a little damn for Mr bally Commandant
or the whole lot of infernal rebels and traitors in that tent. Aha,
Swaart Jan! you may well look sick, you old liar; there's a nice rope
waiting for you. Old Sarel, too? What a hanging of rebels and traitors
there'll be by-and-by! And Morkel? _Ja_, you will dangle, too." Then
becoming alive to the presence of Colvin, he burst into a very roar of
derisive hatred. "Good-day, Mister Kershaw--or should I say Commandant
Kershaw?--the biggest blanked traitor of the lot. You'll be blown from
a gun, I should think."

These ravings, uttered half in English, half in Dutch, were not without
effect upon most of those within the tent. They had about concluded
that the violence and insolence of this prisoner had reached limits.

"Let him taste the _sjambok_" growled the old burgher who had expressed
the opinion antagonistic to British veracity. But Commandant Schoeman
gave no sign of perturbation. Save for a stern and ominous look in his
cold, snaky eye, he might not have heard.

"Frank--Frank! Do be quiet, man," said Colvin earnestly. "Don't make a
silly ass of yourself. You are doing yourself no good."

"Not, eh? I'd do you some good though if I could get at you; I'd give
you the jolliest hammering you ever had. Look at Mani Delport's mug
there. That's nothing to what yours would be, you infernal traitor."

"It might not be so easy, Frank. But do be reasonable. How can you
ex