ith its head down still
panting after its race and scare, pricked up its ears and snorted, then
began backing away. Colvin had just time to seize the bridle-rein, or
it would have been off in wild stampede. And now every vein in his body
quivered with excitement. His revolver was in his hand. Let them come.
The chances now were something like equal.

But it is not a pleasant thing to know that you are being stalked in the
dark by a persistent and murderous foe; and as for some minutes no
further sign occurred the excitement became dashed with something like
apprehension, then succeeded a feeling of relief. The horse had been
scared by one of the ordinary sights of the veldt--a sneaking jackal--
perhaps a meerkat--in short, anything moving will startle a horse in the
dark, let alone one so thoroughly "in the dispositions" for panic as
this one now was. But just then a renewed snort, accompanied by a
plunge and a violent tugging at the bridle-rein, set all Colvin's pulses
bounding again; and though he endeavoured to do so silently, so as not
to betray his exact whereabouts, the hammer of his pistol, as he drew it
up, gave forth a sharp click upon the stillness.

Out of the darkness came a voice--a beseeching voice--saying in Boer
Dutch:

"Nay, Baas, don't shoot. My well-loved Baas, don't shoot."

"Gert, you fool, come here."

"Yes, it is Gert, Baas," answered the voice in a tone of intense delight
and relief. "_Maagtig_! I thought it was those _schelm_ Boers. I
thought you were shot. I thought I was shot. I thought we were all
shot."

"Well, we are not. But where is Pansy?"

"She was shot, Baas. Ah, the poor mare! She just sank down in the road
with her legs under her. I had hardly time to roll off when she was up
again, gave a stagger, and toppled over into the river bed. I crouched
down in the _sluit_ by the roadside and lay perfectly still--still as a
hare--until the moon went in again. Then I crept away. _Ja_, it was a
fearful time. I thought I could feel the bullets through me every
minute. _Maagtig_! but he is a _schelm_ Boer is Gideon Roux."

"Gideon Roux? Why do you think it was Gideon Roux, Gert?"

"It was, Baas. He and Hermanus Delport. I would swear to it," rejoined
the Griqua excitedly. "They looked murder when they were talking to me.
There was murder in their faces, _Ja_, it is those two."

Colvin cursed to himself, and vowed revenge. He was fond of his horses,
and these