behind the lamp.

For a few moments Dickenson was silent, and the sergeant spoke again.

"Time to rouse up, sir."

"Yes, of course," said the young officer, getting slowly upon his feet,
and having hard work to suppress a groan.

"Bit stiff, sir?"

"Yes; arm and back. I can hardly move. But it will soon go off."

"Oh yes, sir. It was that big stone nipping you after the blow-up."

"I expect so," said Dickenson, struggling into his jacket. "Ha! It's
getting better already. Where are the ponies?"

"Round by the tethering-line, sir; but you've got to have a bit of
supper first."

"Oh, I want no supper. I've no appetite now."

"Armoured train won't work, sir, without filling up the furnace," said
the sergeant sternly; "and the ponies are not quite ready."

"You promised to have them ready, sergeant."

"So I did, sir; but we want all we can out of them to-night. We may
have to ride for our lives; so I managed to beg a feed of mealies apiece
for them. There's a snack of hot meat ready in the mess hut, sir, and
the colonel would like to see you before you start."

"Yes," said Dickenson, finishing buckling on his sword, and slipping the
lanyard cord of his revolver about his neck.

He hurried then to the mess-room, where a piece of well-broiled steak,
freshly cut from one of the oxen, was brought by the cook, emitting an
aroma agreeable enough; but it did not tempt the young officer, whose
one idea was to mount and ride away for the kopje. Certainly it was not
only like fresh meat--very tough--but it possessed the toughness of
years piled-up by an ox whose life had been passed helping to drag a
tow-rope on trek. So half of it was left, and the young man sought the
colonel's quarters.

"Ha!" he said. "Ready to start, then?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I must leave all to your discretion, Dickenson," he said.
"Recollect you promised me that if there was any sign of the kopje being
still occupied you would stop at once and return."

"Yes; I have not forgotten, sir."

"That's enough, then. Keep your eyes well open for danger. I'd give
anything to recover Lennox, but I cannot afford to give the lives of
more of my men."

Dickenson frowned.

"You mean, sir, that you do not believe he is still alive."

"I don't know what to say, Dickenson," said the colonel, beginning to
walk up and down the hut. "You have heard this ugly report?"

"Yes, sir; and I don't believe it."

"I cannot believe it," said