ng the sentry's challenge, and finding the Boer back in his
former place, seated upon the wagon-box, and conversing in a low tone
with the men within.

He did not start when Lennox spoke to him this time, but swung himself
deliberately round to face his questioner.

"Well," said the latter, "what did the colonel say?"

"He said it was a good thing, and that we should take our wagons,
inspan, and be passed through the lines to-night."

"Oh, come," said Dickenson; "that's good! One to us."

"Yes," grunted the Boer after puffing away; "he said it was very good,
and that we were to go."

"Then, why in the name of common-sense don't you get ready and go
instead of sitting here smoking and talking?"

"Oh, we know, the colonel and I," said the man quietly. "We talked it
over with the major and captains and another, and we all said that the
Boers would be looking sharp out in the first part of the night,
expecting to be attacked; but as they were not they would settle down,
and that it would be best to wait till half the night had passed, and go
then. There would be three hours' darkness, and that would be plenty of
time to get well past the Boer laagers before the sun rose; so we are
resting till then."

"That's right enough," said Dickenson, "so good-night, and luck go with
you! Bring twice as many sheep this time."

"Yes, I know, captain," said the Boer. "And wheat and rice and coffee
and sugar."

"Here, come along, Drew, old fellow; he's making my mouth water so
dreadfully that I can't bear it."

"You will come and see us go?" said the Boer.

"No, thank you," replied Dickenson. "I hope to be sleeping like a
sweet, innocent child.--You'll see them off, Drew?"

"No. I expect that they will be well on their way by the time I am
roused up to visit posts.--Good-night, cornet. I hope to see you back
safe."

"Oh yes, we shall be quite safe," said the man; "but perhaps it will be
three or four days before we get back. Good-night, captains."

"Lieutenants!" cried Dickenson, and he took his comrade's arm, and they
marched away to their quarters, heartily tired out, and ready to drop
asleep on the instant as weary people really can.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

"RUN, SIR, FOR YOUR LIFE!"

"Eh? Yes. All right," cried Lennox, starting up, ready dressed as he
was, to find himself half-blinded by the light of the lantern held close
over him. "Time, sergeant?"

"Well, not quite, sir; but I want you to come and