xious as she was
to get away, Jess could see no hope of returning to the farm till the
excitement was over. Then, a day or two later, Conductor Egerton came
limping into Pretoria from the scene of the disaster at Bronker's
Spruit, with the colours of the 94th Regiment tied round his middle,
and such a tale to tell that the blood went to her heart and seemed to
stagnate there as she listened.

After that there was confusion worse confounded. Martial law having
been proclaimed, the town, which was large, straggling, and incapable of
defence, was abandoned, the inhabitants being ordered into laager on the
high ground overlooking the city. There they were, young and old, sick
and well, delicate women and little children, all crowded together in
the open under the cover of the fort, with nothing but canvas tents,
waggons, and sheds to shelter them from the fierce summer suns and
rains. Jess shared a waggon with her friend and her friend's sister and
mother, and found it rather a tight fit even to lie down. Sleep with all
the noises of the camp going on round her was almost impossible.

It was about three o'clock on the day following that first miserable
night in the laager when, by the last mail that passed into Pretoria,
she received Bessie's letter, announcing her engagement to John. She
took her letter and went some way from the camp to the side of Signal
Hill, where she was not likely to be disturbed, and, finding a nook
shaded by mimosa-trees, sat down and broke the envelope. Before she had
reached the foot of the first page she saw what was coming and set her
teeth. Then she read the long epistle through from beginning to end
without flinching, though the words of affection seemed to burn her. So
it had come at last. Well, she expected it, and had plotted to bring it
about, so really there was no reason in the world why she should feel
disappointed. On the contrary, she ought to rejoice, and for a little
while she really did rejoice in her sister's happiness. It made her glad
to think that Bessie, whom she so dearly loved, was happy.

And yet she felt angry with John with that sort of anger which we feel
against those who have blindly injured us. Why should it be in his power
to hurt her so cruelly? Still she hoped that he would be happy with
Bessie, and then she hoped that these wretched Boers would take
Pretoria, and that she would be shot or otherwise put out of the way.
She had no heart for life; all the colour h