the Englishman in the camp--not
the prisoner, but the other Englishman--had given them a _soepje_ out of
his flask. His first thought being for the security of the prisoner--
the witness had ordered the door to be opened. But the key could not be
found. It had been in the first sentry's keeping. Then having called
several times to the prisoner inside, and receiving no answer, the
witness had caused the door to be broken open. The prisoner had
vanished.

This had happened at about twelve o'clock. But half an hour earlier he
had met Colvin Kershaw wandering through the camp, and they had stood
chatting for a while. Kershaw had told him he had been at Gideon Roux'
house, and was returning to his tent. After his discovery of the escape
he, Adrian, had thought of arresting the accused, but had placed his
tent under guard until the morning.

"The accused man says it was under guard all night," said the
Commandant. "Do you know anything of such a guard?"

"Nothing whatever, Mynheer."

Now, indeed, the whole mystery was clearing up, decided Colvin, but
clearing in such wise as would be disastrous, if not fatal, for himself,
Adrian De la Rey was the prime mover then in this matter. Adrian had
every motive for destroying him, and now Adrian had concocted this plot
for his destruction. He saw through it now, and his heart sank within
him. Schoeman and his crew would be willing accomplices. He had no
friends here in this camp, and he knew, all too well, that no chance
would be allowed him of communicating with those he had elsewhere. Now
he claimed his right of cross-examining witnesses. At first the "court"
was not inclined to allow this. Of what use was it? It savoured of the
blasphemous. God-fearing burghers, who had sworn to tell the truth, and
had called God to witness, could not lie. But he pressed his point and,
being supported by Morkel, carried it.

Not much good did it do him, however, with this witness. Not all his
cross-examination could shake this tissue of amazing lies which Adrian
reeled off with a glibness which imposed on his hearers up to the hilt.
Everything he had said he stuck to; doing it, too, with a sorrowful and
against-the-grain air. This Englishman with all his lawyer tricks could
not shake that honest and simple testimony, decided these
unsophisticated burghers, and all his efforts at doing so only served to
deepen the adverse feeling.

The two sentries were then called, and t