avely.

"We're weak from our long sickness, and done up with the exertion of
what we've gone through."

"Yes," I said; "I feel as weak as a rat."

"Then we're going to sleep, so as to be ready to face them in the
morning."

"What!" I said. "Can you sleep at a time like this?"

"My dear old Val, as you said about facing the muzzles of the Dutch
rifles, I'm going to try."

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

IN THE DARK WATCHES.

"I can't sleep," I said to myself, feeling that history was repeating
itself, as I lay on my side in the lit-up wagon, with my wrists tied
behind my back and my torture increased by having my legs served in the
same way just above the ankles and again above the knees. "No one could
sleep in such a position," I thought to myself; but I did not speak to
my companion in misery. I was too weary and heart-sore, thinking that I
should never see father, brother, aunt, or home again. "Poor old home
is gone for ever," I remember, was the thought that occurred to me.
Next I fell to wondering what had become of my people, and whether they
had fled to Natal. Then my thoughts turned quickly to something else:
to the heavy, regular breathing of Denham, who was fast asleep and
suffering from a bad dream, for he began muttering angrily. Then he was
silent, but only to begin again. I believed I knew the subject of his
dream, for he suddenly exclaimed, "Coward--coward blow!" Then he was
silent for a few minutes, breathing hard and fast as if his growing
excitement had worked up to fierce passion, for he was going over the
scene of an hour ago, ending with "I'll kill you--or you shall kill me."
He was suffering as if from a nightmare; and, unable to lie there
listening, I managed to work myself along over the rough, cage-like
bottom of the wagon till I could get my face close to his, just as he
was panting and sobbing as if in a desperate encounter in which his
strength was rapidly ebbing away.

"Denham!" I whispered. "Denham!"

"Ha!" he sighed softly, and ceased to struggle; while, as I lowered my
head from the painful position into which I had strained it, I felt
relieved to know that the poor, overwrought companion of my adventure
could forget his sorrows for the time in sleep.

"I wish I could sleep, and never wake again; for when the time comes I
shall be a coward"--such was the train of my thoughts. "Yes, I am sure
to be a coward. One doesn't think of the bullets when one is fighting
and the