silent beauty of the night, and his
naturalist ear took in every cry of beast or bird away out on the
otherwise silent waste. Intertwined, too, were thoughts of Verna and of
his own position. As to the latter, in a way, the outbreak of war had
been distinctly advantageous. No one, least of all the police, would
have time to bother about the remains of some unknown Jew, or as to how
he came to grief, now quite some time ago. Then the moon came over the
distant ridge of forest, and it grew lighter and lighter. Even beneath
his heavy overcoat Denham shivered.

Suddenly he grasped his rifle. No, it was only Ben Halse.

"Come round here," whispered the latter. "Something's moving."

Denham's nerves tingled. In a moment they were round at the point
indicated. Several plover were circling overhead, uttering shrill
cries.

"Look here," whispered Halse earnestly. "When I fire there'll likely be
a rush. If there is, don't be content with one shot. Pump about six
into them one after another, as quick as ever you can. It'll stop the
lot for the moment, and rouse up those boozy idiots inside the fence.
Then we'll run like hell, but--look out for the barbed wire."

Denham nodded. He was cool as ever man was, but the thrill of battle
was in his veins, and, like the mythical knights of old, he was spurred
by the thought that he was fighting for a lady-love. Intently he
watched his companion. The latter raised his piece suddenly, then
dropped it again; then up it went as quickly, and the flame and roar of
the report spurted forth, followed immediately by another detonation.

Simultaneously there rose from the grass a mass of dark forms, but no
sound was uttered. They would be in upon the laager and surprise it
asleep, having first made mincemeat of the unfortunate sentry. But--
would they? Acting upon Ben Halse's instructions, Denham, half
concealed by a broad, flat-topped thorn-bush, poured his magazine fire
into the thick of them, cartridge after cartridge, and aiming low. He
could hear Ben Halse doing the same, and knew he was missing nothing and
nobody. He himself knew he was missing nobody. It was just as Ben
Halse had predicted. The attacking line was thoroughly demoralised, and
reckoning, as it might well have reckoned, that there were about twenty
more men here than was really the case, dropped flat to the earth, a
manoeuvre of which the two daring watchers took advantage to sprint away
to the laage