gradually working nearer, amid low mutterings of thunder, was
bringing the storm which should act as accomplice in hiding the slain
victims of the two ambushed murderers.

"That is right," chuckled Gideon Roux, rubbing his hands. "The river
will come down to-night like the devil. By this time to-morrow the
Englishman and his Hottentot will be nearly at the sea. It is hundreds
of miles off, but a flooded river travels as quick as a train."

"What if they are stranded half-way?" said the other, with an evil
sneer.

"Then the jackals will eat them. Either way it matters nothing."

Darker and darker it grew. The storm cloud began to throw out loose
masses of flying scud, through which the moon now and again shone out in
fitful gleam. Still, to these two their prey came not in sight.

"I like not this," growled Hermanus. "This is no light to shoot by. We
may miss one or both, and to miss one is as bad as to miss both.
Besides, the river may not take them down after all. We two may be
hanged for to-night's work, Gideon."

"Hanged? Oh, yes! See now, Mani, why I would have it done with
Mausers. Their bullet makes a small hole, our Martini bullet makes a
large hole. And there is not a Mauser or a Lee-Metford in the
Wildschutsberg. Afterwards our guns are examined, and they are the old
Martinis. Our bullet does not fit the hole. Now, do you not see, you
_eselkop_?"

"_Ja_, I see. But--_stil, man_. Here they come."

A clink of the hoof of a shod horse coming down the track was borne
faintly upward. The two assassins crouched in their ambush, a tigerish
glare in their eyes. Their pieces were levelled.

"Ready, Hermanus," whispered Gideon Roux. "When they come six paces the
other side of yon white stone, then shoot."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

TRAGICAL--AND ALETTA.

Hans Vermaak had and had not carried out his instructions; which is to
say that in so far as he had he had done so by halves.

By nature he was a genial soul was Hans Vermaak, by inclination a jovial
one. He would not wantonly have hurt a fly or an Englishman, let alone
so companionable a one as Colvin Kershaw; but then the terrible point to
which racial hatred was worked up had engendered a feverish thirst for
conspiring that was almost Celtic, in the stolid and pre-eminently
practical Boer. The discovery of the concealed arms would be a serious
thing, a very serious thing, but of its seriousness, great as that was,
they took an exaggera