when he is off his head, can we?"

To this plea Commandant Schoeman made no reply. He turned a cold, fishy
eye upon the pleader, then remarked to the others:

"_Toen, Heeren_. We had better discuss, under the guidance of Heaven,
what our best course will be with regard to this violent and blasphemous
prisoner. For yourself, Mynheer"--to Colvin--"you would doubtless
prefer the rest and quiet of your tent--or to see if some of your
friends are in our camp."

Colvin promptly acted upon this more than hint. But with all his
anxiety to reach Ratels Hoek, a kind of instinct on Frank Wenlock's
account reconciled him to a further sojourn in Schoeman's camp. He
suspected that Frank stood in grave peril of his life; and if so he must
exert all and whatever influence he himself possessed on behalf of his
friend and former comrade.

His instinct proved an accurate one, and his worst fears were justified.
Not until near evening, however, did he learn that Frank Wenlock had
been sentenced to be shot, and would meet his death at daybreak.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE NET DRAWS IN.

It was Morkel who brought the news. Their deliberations on Frank's fate
had lasted for some hours, being interspersed with a sort of impromptu
prayer-meeting or two--and in the result he had been brought before the
Commandant again, and being asked if he had any thing to say in excuse
for having repeatedly insulted the President, blasphemed Almighty God,
and taken up arms against the Republic, part of whose territory this had
now been proclaimed by annexation, replied simply by a savage renewal of
all the abuse he had already been foolish enough to heap upon those in
whose power he was. So he was condemned to be shot at daybreak on the
following morning.

Not all had been in favour of that extreme measure, said Morkel. Swaart
Jan Grobbelaar for one, and old Sarel Van der Vyver for another, had
spoken on the side of mercy; possibly with an uneasy eye to
eventualities. But Commandant Schoeman, who was a Free State Boer, and
whose own position as a mere belligerent was secure in any event, had
overruled them, and by that time to-morrow poor Frank Wenlock would no
longer exist. "What can be done, Morkel?" said Colvin, very much moved.
"Do you think they really intend to do it?"

"Dead certain," was the gloomy reply. "You know the poor devil simply
brought it upon himself. You saw how he behaved this morning, Kershaw.
Why he was simply committin