Their names
were published in the orders for the day as having performed a service
of signal danger and great merit, and before the sun had risen an hour
they were besieged by an army of correspondents, all eager to hear news
of Ladysmith and the narrative of their own escape.

Jack and Poynter held quite an informal reception, for officers flocked
to have a chat with them, and for the greater part of the day their
attentions were busily engaged in answering the hundreds of questions
put to them. As for Jack, just when he believed that he had secured
peace at last, and could enjoy the luxury of an hour's quiet before
dinner, he was suddenly attacked by a world-famous war-correspondent,
who had waited till all his friends were satisfied and till he could get
the adventurous despatch-rider to himself. Seated in front of our hero,
pen and note-book in hand, this genial man, who had seen perhaps far
more of war than the oldest veteran in our forces, skilfully extracted
all his news, and by dint of careful questioning even managed to get
from the bashful and retiring Jack an account of his early escapade in
front of Kimberley.

"Ah, when I was a youngster like you," he exclaimed, with some
animation, "that despatch-riding was just the kind of work that would
have suited me! Mind you, Mr Somerton, I don't forget for one moment
that it is really most risky work and requires a deal of pluck, but that
is just where the fascination of it all comes in. I suppose, now that
you have done so well, you will be given a commission, and that should
suit your tastes, being, as you are, the son of an old officer!"

"Yes, I hope some day to have a commission in the service," Jack
answered thoughtfully, "but I fancy I should prefer it after the war is
over. You see, if I were made a subaltern now I should no doubt see
lots of fighting, but I should be tied and hampered to a great extent.
I cannot forget that I left friends in Kimberley whom I promised to call
upon again, and now that I am safely out of Ladysmith, with nothing in
particular to do, I feel all the more inclined to turn my face that
way."

"Ha, ha, ha! Excuse me," laughed the genial correspondent. "Of course
I had not forgotten that you have friends on the Western border, and no
doubt you are anxious to meet one of them at least again. Don't mind my
chaff, Somerton. It's the sign of true friendship when one's friends
remember one. As to your leaving for Kimberley