do nothing, boys. Moriarty will have you shot in
the morning when he comes back, and begin to rage because it is not
done. Well, life's very short, and we must all die. I'm going to fight
to-night, and perhaps I shall start on the long journey too, for your
men fight well. God knows best, lads; and there is no fighting yonder--
all is peace."

He bowed his head down and went out of the wagon without a word. When
Denham asked me a few minutes later what the Boer had said, my voice in
reply sounded hoarse and strange, quite unlike my usual tones.

We were now in darkness. The coffee was cold; the cakes lay untouched.
We were both sunk in a deep interval of musing; but Denham broke the
silence at last.

"Then we have another night of life, Val," he remarked.

"Yes," I replied; "and then the end."

"Look here," he said thoughtfully, after he had taken up the coffee-tin
and drunk; "that Boer said that he was going over yonder to-night to
fight, and that perhaps he would be where we were."

"Yes--dead," was my reply.

"Perhaps, Val. What do the doctors say?--`While there's life there's
hope.'"

"I see no hope for us," I said gloomily.

"I do," Denham whispered in a low, earnest tone. "We've been too ready
to give up hope."

I smiled sadly, stretching out my swollen legs.

"Yes, I know," said Denham; "but my hands are not powerless now, and I
have still a knife in my pocket--the one with which I cut the reins--and
it will cut these."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I glanced at the two openings in
the wagon.

"Be careful," I whispered.

"All right; but the Boers don't understand English. Look here, Val; if
the big friendly fellow is going to fight to-night, what does it mean?"

"Of course," I replied excitedly, "an attack upon the fort. They're
going to get in when it's dark; and if they do there'll not be half of
our poor fellows left by morning."

"Couldn't we slip off as soon as it's dark, and warn them? Once we were
outside the lines we might run."

"Might run?" I said bitterly. "I don't believe we could even stand."

"Ah! I forgot that," he muttered, with a groan. "Well, nothing
venture, nothing have. It'll be dark enough in a few minutes, and then
I shall slip the knife under your ankles and set your legs free. When
that's done you can do the same for me."

"Suppose the Boers come and examine us?"

"We must risk that. Perhaps they'll just come and look at the cords
w