.

The third day of their captivity had dawned, and waned. It seemed that
those around had grown rather more used to them, for they would chat at
times, while dexterously evading any attempts to extract news. But it
struck them that there was an atmosphere of tension, of expectation, as
though events were expected on the outside. Moreover the number of
armed men about the kraal seemed to have diminished by eight-tenths.

With the chief, Nteseni, they could get no speech, although they
repeatedly asked to see him. Moreover, did either or both of them catch
sight of a face they knew, that face was promptly turned away, and the
owner of it never risked the chance of their seeing it again. So far
this was a good augury they agreed, for had their deaths been already
decided upon it would not matter whose faces they recognised or whose
they did not. By this time they had almost got used to the strangeness
of the feeling that they were captives in their own land; that where
they were accustomed to lord it they were now obliged to obey. Many
times, too, and oft, they speculated as to what course would have been
adopted by those who had not been required to share their captivity.

"Edala has got her head screwed on the right way," Thornhill had said,
on one of these early occasions. "Depend upon it she will have warned
everybody within hail. What d'you think, Elvesdon? Will Prior have had
the sense to wire sharp to Police headquarters and laager up your
place?"

"Of course he will. We've often discussed contingencies, though not
such an unlooked-for one as this. Oh, he'll have made that all right."

That evening a surprise awaited. There was a sound of voices outside.
The wicker-slab that constituted the door of their hut was pushed, and
an English voice called out.

"It's me. Can I come in?"

"Why Parry, of course you can," cried Elvesdon, promptly undoing the
fastenings. "How are you? Glad to have you back again. We've been
trying all we knew to make them let you come back to us, but for some
reason they wouldn't. Have some skoff. We're half through ours. Well,
it'll be an invaluable experience to you afterwards."

"Thanks, Mr Elvesdon. You're awfully good," answered the young fellow.
"I don't know. I thought I was afraid of nothing--but somehow these
black devils with their beastly spears, threatening to stick you for a
couple of days and nights, rather saps your nerves, especially when
you're a