heard, but ran again, and he, sauntering towards the
gate a moment later on the look-out for her, saw her flying form just
disappearing in the darkness.

"Something has evidently gone wrong," he muttered, and he, too, in his
turn began to run, pursuing the figure of the girl as she sped after
the Secret Service men.

She did not stop when he caught up with her, pulling her arm through
his, but ran on, telling him in brief sentences what had happened.

Every few yards she called, "Jasper! Jasper!" in the vain hope that
this might bring the fugitives forward, should they have concealed
themselves behind the trees along the road.

Poor Hansie was becoming thoroughly exhausted, when suddenly, as they
neared the Sunnyside bridge, four men under the electric light became
plainly visible.

"You must run again, Hansie," F. said, and putting his arm around her,
he literally carried her along.

Alas! the figures proved to be four Kaffirs coming _towards_ them,
and, with a broken sob, Hansie realised that all their efforts were in
vain.

It was no use running now.

Sunnyside was badly lit, and one could barely see two yards ahead, so
the plotters walked slowly to Harmony, encouraging one another with
the thought that the men must already be beyond the outskirts of the
town.

"We have heard no shots, and that is a good sign," Hansie said, "for
the men were armed, and in the event of a surprise they meant to fight
for their lives."

CHAPTER XXIX

A WAR-BABY AND A CURIOUS CHRISTENING

As far as was known, no men were arrested that night.

The man who had escorted the spies through Sunnyside and over the
railway line, the dauntless van der Westhuizen with the bandaged arm,
had left them not far from the wire enclosure, and had then waited
some time, listening for sounds of commotion.

As no shots had broken the stillness of the night, he had every reason
to believe that they had escaped with their lives.

* * * * *

For some weeks there was a "lull in spies." But there was no lack of
other sensations, for September 1901 will ever be remembered as one of
the most trying months throughout the year of the war.

It reminded one of that September month before war was declared, when
the air was filled with the sweet, penetrating odour of
orange-blossoms and many hearts were torn with the agony of suspense
and a feeling of impending disaster.

Again the orange trees were in full