nothing has
happened."

"Oh yes, something has!" said Ingleborough, with a smile. "I've got
well again! The first morning I couldn't have mounted my pony and
ridden off even if they had brought it to the end of the wagon here and
said: `Be off!' To-day I could jump on and go off at full gallop. Do
you call that nothing?"

"No, of course not!" said West. "There, you must forgive me! I'm very
discontented, I know; but you see why."

"To be sure I do! I say, though, you've been at that satchel! The
sandwiches are gone."

West nodded.

"Haven't eaten them, have you?"

"No, they're sewed up in the belt of my jacket. I did it two nights
ago, and I'm living in hopes that they will not search us again."

"That's it, is it? Well, I'm glad you did that! There, keep a good
heart; something is sure to happen before long!"

"I only hope it may; even evil would be better than this miserable state
of inaction. I think till I feel half-mad."

"Well, we won't hope for the evil, only for something in the way of
change, if it's only to pay a visit to Pretoria gaol."

"What!"

"Only so as to get some news to give to old Norton when we get back. It
will interest him. I wonder whether he's keeping his eye on Master
Plump-and-Pink. Well, I am blessed!"

"What is the matter? Are they making a move?" cried West excitedly, for
Ingleborough had sprung to the end of their wagon prison to stand
looking out.

"Someone has!" cried Ingleborough angrily. "Look here! Why, old Norton
must have been asleep."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

BAD SHILLINGS ALWAYS COME BACK.

West stepped to his companion's side, looked out between the rough
curtains of the wagon, and saw a group of mounted Boers surrounding a
freshly-arrived wagon with its long team of bullocks, the black
voorlooper at the head and the driver with his enormous whip on the box.

"Well," said West, after a sharp glance, "there's a fresh load of
provisions, I suppose! What of it?"

"Rub your eyes, lad, and look again."

"They don't want rubbing."

"Well, of all the fellows! Look there, beyond those mounted men who
escorted the wagon in--there where the commandant and the dismounted
party are talking together."

"Yes, I see where you mean; but what has it to do with us? I don't--
yes, I do. Why, it's Anson!" cried West excitedly.

"Anson it is! I began to think you were going blind!"

"But how strange! They have taken him prisoner then. Look her