e awake at last," said one. "We were about to awaken you.
You must come before the Commandant at once."

"Before the Commandant?" echoed Colvin, still hardly awake. "By the
way--the prisoner? What about the prisoner? The Commandant has
pardoned him, has he?"

The men exchanged a very strange look with each other at the words.

"It is about the prisoner that the Commandant needs you, Mynheer," said
the spokesman. And Colvin's heart sank. He was wanted to receive the
doomed man's last wishes, he supposed, being the latter's
fellow-countryman. Poor Frank--poor Frank!

"I am ready," he said, springing up. "But--tell me. Are they really
going to shoot him after all? Surely--surely not!"

The men looked more strangely than ever.

"You ought to know best whether that can now be done or not, Mynheer,"
was the enigmatical reply. "Come!"

Colvin went forth with his guards--one of whom walked on each side of
him, and the third behind. This was being under arrest with a
vengeance, he thought. As they passed through the camp he noticed that
the burghers were gathered in groups, conversing in very subdued tones,
which at sight of him would become suddenly hushed. There was something
solemn and cold-blooded about these preliminaries to the execution he
was about to witness that got upon his nerves. As we have pointed out,
he had witnessed many a ghastly and horrifying sight during the last few
weeks. But this, he felt, was going to be more trying than any.

Commandant Schoeman was seated in his tent, surrounded by his handful of
subordinate officers, exactly the same as on the day before. To-day,
however, in addition, a few burghers were grouped outside the tent, the
butts of their rifles grounded, as they watched the proceedings. But
where was the prisoner? Where was Frank Wenlock?

A dire sinking gripped Colvin's mind. Had they done it already? Surely
the volley would have awakened him, or had he slept too soundly?
Involuntarily he gazed from side to side.

"Stand there," said his guard, halting him in front of the Commandant's
table.

The latter looked up at Colvin's greeting, barely returning it; then he
said:

"What have you to say?" Colvin looked fairly puzzled.

"To say?" he echoed. "I do not understand, Mynheer Commandant."

"The prisoner Wenlock has escaped."

Colvin started, and his whole face lit up with satisfaction.

"Escaped, has he? Well then, Mynheer, all I can say is, I think