-it makes
life more pleasant.

By the time that the horses had eaten their forage and Mouti had forced
the bits into their reluctant mouths, the angry splendour of the sunset
faded, and the quiet night was falling over the glowing veldt like the
pall on one scarce dead. Fortunately for the travellers, there was a
bright half moon, and by its light John managed to direct the cart over
many a weary mile. On he went for hour after hour, keeping his tired
horses to the collar as best he could, till at last, about eleven
o'clock, he saw the lights of Heidelberg before him, and knew that the
question of whether or no his journey was at an end would speedily be
decided for him. However, there was nothing for it but to go on and take
his chance of slipping through. Presently he crossed a little stream,
and distinguished the shape of a cart just ahead, around which men and
a couple of lanterns were moving. No doubt, John thought to himself, it
was the Bishop, who had been stopped by the Boers. He was quite close to
the cart when it moved on, and in another second he was greeted by the
rough challenge of a sentry, and caught sight of the cold gleam of a
rifle barrel.

"_Wie da?_" (Who's there?)

"Friend!" he answered cheerfully, though feeling far from cheerful.

There was a pause, during which the sentry called to another man, who
came up yawning, and saying something in Dutch. Straining his ears he
caught the words, "Bishop's man," and this gave him an idea.

"Who are you, Englishman?" asked the second man gruffly, holding up a
lantern to look at John, and speaking in English.

"I am the Bishop's chaplain, sir," he answered mildly, trying
desperately to look like an unoffending clergyman, "and I want to get on
to Pretoria with him."

The man with the lantern inspected him closely. Fortunately John wore
a dark coat and a clerical-looking black felt hat; the same that Frank
Muller had put a bullet through.

"He is a preacher fast enough," said the one man to the other. "Look, he
is dressed like an old crow! What did _Oom_ Kruger's pass say, Jan? Was
it two carts or one that we were to let through? I think it was one."

The other man scratched his head.

"I think it was two," he said. He did not like to confess to his comrade
that he could not read. "No, I am sure that it was two."

"Perhaps we had better send up to _Oom_ Kruger and ask?" suggested the
first man.

"_Oom_ Kruger will be in bed, and he puts up his qui