ous character to the Boer leaders, would be
sufficient proof against him and his fellows. No other evidence would
be required to bring them to their death, if it had fallen into the
hands of the enemy.

The unfortunate man, in his prison cell, prayed for deliverance, not
only for himself, but for the trusty comrades who would be exposed to
such deadly peril by this, his one act of indiscretion.

The weary days dragged on.

Suffering, not to be described by words, was the daily portion of this
man.

His fellow-prisoners shared the same fate, with one exception.

Mr. Hattingh in his prison cell, who had been taken in his deacon's
frock-coat that Sunday night, reaped the rewards of the sagacity he
had displayed on the occasion of the visit to his house of the
Judas-Boer.

There was a marked difference in the treatment he received at the hands
of his jailers. He was not once condemned to death, and he was hardly
cross-questioned during the entire term of his imprisonment--better
food, kinder treatment being accorded him than to any of his fellows,
as he found on comparing notes with them afterwards.

It was quite evident that he was the only man about whose guilt the
enemy was in a certain amount of doubt.

His family, too, was privileged, his wife being allowed a few days'
grace to sell her household goods before she was conveyed to a camp
with her children, while the families of the other men were instantly
removed and their homes taken into possession by the English.

If the enemy had only known it, Mr. Hattingh, who was known for his
uprightness and moral integrity, had no intention of perjuring himself
in the witness-box, but had fully made up his mind to confess his
complicity and to face his death like a man and a patriot.

There is no doubt that this brave man would have been endowed with the
required courage to uphold his word when the hour came, but it is
equally certain that no word of accusation in evidence against his
fellow-conspirators would have been wrung from his lips.

When at the end of the sixteen days no proof of their guilt had been
found, their captors, recognising and appreciating their staunch
fidelity and unswerving loyalty, removed them from their cells in the
dreary jail to the Rest Camp, where they were able to enjoy the
privileges of the ordinary prisoners of war, and refreshing
intercourse with their brothers from the field.

But before they were admitted to the Rest Camp they