re," said my captor, speaking from the tail-end of the wagon,
"there are four men on duty with rifles, and their orders are to shoot
you both through the head if you try to escape. Now you know."

While he was speaking one of the men who had dragged us in reached out
his hand for a lantern, which he took and hung from a hook in the middle
of the tilt.

Then he and his companion dropped down from the end of the dimly-lit
wagon, and we were alone for a few moments. But the two men who had
left us returned directly with two more reins and set to work binding
our ankles together as tightly as they could.

"There," said one of them, in Dutch, as soon as they had finished, "we
can see you well from outside, and you know what will come if you try to
get away."

Then we were alone again, and as the curtain of stout canvas at the end
ceased to vibrate, Denham as he lay back began to laugh merrily.

"Denham!" I cried.

"I can't help it, old chap," he said. "It's very horrible, but there's
a comic side to it. Blows hit terribly hard."

"Yes, the coward!" I cried passionately, "to strike you like that!"

"I wasn't thinking of that, old chap," he replied. "Yes, that was as
nasty a thing as the savage could do; but I was thinking of how hard you
can hit a sensitive man with your tongue."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Moriarty! Why, I spoke quite quietly, but if I had given him a cut
across the face from the left shoulder with my sabre, which cuts like a
razor, it wouldn't have hurt the brute half as much."

"Don't--don't talk about the business," I said bitterly.

"Why not? I'm just in the condition that makes my tongue run. But I
say, old chap, we've made a pretty mess of our scheme. Never told a
soul what we were going to do, so we can't get any help."

"And left a hanging rope to show our people that we have run away and
deserted them in their terrible strait."

"Yes; that's about the worst of the whole business, my lad. Well, we
meant well, and it's of no use to cry over spilt milk. I don't think it
will be spilt blood; but it may, and if it does I'm going to die like a
soldier with his face to the enemy, and so are you."

"I'm going to try," I said simply.

"Then you'll do it, like a true-born Englishman," he said cheerily.
"How does that song go? I forget. There, never mind. I won't act like
a sham, even if I am where there's so much Dutch courage. Now, look
here, Val."

"Yes?" I said gr