If we are to die I don't want to try to kill
any more."

Denham frowned, and sat gently rubbing his wrists. I followed his
example during nearly an hour. While thus employed we could hear a good
deal of bustle and noise going on in the neighbourhood of the wagon, and
sundry odours which floated in suggested that the Boers in camp did not
starve themselves. Meanwhile we were very silent and thoughtful,
expecting that at any moment we might be summoned to meet our fate.

At last there was the sound of approaching steps, and I drew my breath
hard as an order was given to halt, followed by the rattle of rifles
being grounded.

I was unable to speak then, but held out my hand quickly to Denham, who
seized it in both of his, and his lips parted as if to say good-bye, yet
no words were uttered. The next moment he let my hand drop and turned
his eyes away, for the big Boer who had become so familiar now climbed
into the wagon, glanced at us, and then reached down outside for two
large pannikins of hot coffee, which he carefully lifted inside.

"Here," he said gruffly; "help to keep up your spirits."

He set the tins beside us, then went to the back of the wagon and
reached down again for a couple of large, newly-baked cakes, which he
handed to us.

"The Irish captain didn't give any orders," he said; "but we don't
starve our prisoners to death."

With that he scowled at us in turn, and left the wagon.

"Toll me what he said, Val," whispered Denham in a tone of voice which
sounded very strange.

With difficulty I repeated in English what the man had said; I felt as
if choking.

"I wish they hadn't done this, Val," said Denham after a minute's
interval. "It seems like a mockery."

I nodded, then remarked, "That man seems to have some feeling in him."

"Yes; but we can't eat and drink now."

"No," I replied. "I feel as if food would choke me."

Denham nodded, and sat gazing out at the bright sunshine.

"Think it would give us a little Dutch courage if we had some
breakfast?"

"I don't want any," I said desperately. "I want them to put us out of
our misery before that wretch Moriarty comes back."

"But we want to face them like men," said Denham suddenly. "We're so
weak and faint now that we shall be ready to drop. Let's eat and drink,
and we will show the Boers that English soldiers are ready to lace
anything."

"I can't," I replied desperately.

"You must," cried Denham. "Como on." He took up