"Josane will look after him. I won't take him along now, because--well, it's just on the cards we might have to make a push for it, and a led horse is a nuisance. Ah--there he is," as a low whinnying was heard on their left front and duly responded to by the pair in harness.

In less than two minutes he had the saddle secured at the back of the buggy and was beside her again. It is to be feared Eustace drove very badly that night. Had the inquiry been made, candour would have compelled him to admit that he had never driven so badly in his life.

Eanswyth, for her part, was quite overcome with the thrilling, intoxicating happiness of the hour. But what an hour! They were fleeing through the night--fleeing for their lives--their way lighted by the terrible signal beacons of the savage foe--by the glare of flaming homesteads fired by his ravaging and vengeful hand. But then, he who was dead is alive again, and is beside her--they two fleeing together through the night.

"Darling," she whispered at last, nestling up closer to him. "Why did they try to kill me by telling me you were dead?"

"They had every reason to suppose so. Now, what do you think stood between me and certain death?"

"What?"

"Your love--not once, but twice. The silver box. See. Here it is, where it has ever been--over my heart. Twice it turned the point of the a.s.segai."

"Eustace!"

"It is as I say. Your love preserved me for yourself."

"Oh, my darling, surely then it cannot be so wicked--so unlawful!" she exclaimed with a quiver in her voice.

"I never believed it could," he replied.

Up till then, poor Tom's name had not been mentioned. Both seemed to avoid allusion to it. Now, however, that Eustace had to narrate his adventures and escape, it could not well be avoided. But in describing the strange impromptu duel between the Gcaleka warrior and his unfortunate cousin, he purposely omitted any reference to the latter's probable hideous fate, leaving Eanswyth to suppose he had been slain then and there. It was impossible that she should have been otherwise than deeply moved.

"He died fighting bravely, at any rate," she said at last.

"Yes. Want of courage was never one of poor Tom's failings. All the time we were out he was keener on a fight than all the rest of the command put together."

There was silence after this. Then at last:

"How did you escape, Eustace, my darling? You have not told me."

"Through paying ransom to that same Hlangani and paying pretty stiffly too. Four hundred and fifty head of good cattle was the figure. Such a haggle as it was, too. It would have been impolitic to agree too quickly. Then, I had to square this witch-doctress, and I daresay old Kreli himself will come in for some of the pickings. From motives of policy we had to carry out the escape as if it was a genuine escape and not a put-up job--but they managed it all right--took me across the river on some pretext or other and then gave me the opportunity of leg-bail. As soon as the war is over Hlangani will come down on me for the cattle."

"How did you know I was back at Anta's Kloof, dearest? Did the Hostes tell you?" said Eanswyth at last.

"No. I met that one-eyed fellow Tomkins just outside Komgha. I only waited while he called up two or three more to back his statement and then started off here as hard as ever I could send my nag over the ground."

The journey was about half accomplished. The buggy bowled merrily along--and its occupants--alone together in the warm balmy southern night--began to wish the settlement was even further off. They were ascending a long rise.

"Hallo, what's up?" exclaimed Eustace suddenly, whipping up his horses, which he had been allowing to walk up the hill.

The brow of the hill was of some alt.i.tude and commanded a considerable view of the surrounding country. But the whole of the latter was lit up by a dull and lurid glow. At intervals apart burned what looked like several huge and distant bonfires.

"They mean business this time," said Eustace, reining in a moment to breathe his horses on the brow of the rise. "Look. There goes Hoste's place. That's Bradfield's over there--and beyond that must be Oesthuisen's. Look at them all blazing merrily; and--by jingo--there goes Draaibosch!"

Far and wide for many a mile the country was aglow with blazing homesteads. Evidently it was the result of preconcerted action on the part of the savages. The wild yelling chorus of the barbarous incendiaries, executing their fierce war-dances around their work of destruction, was borne distinctly upon the night.

"The sooner we get into Komgha the better now," he went on, sending the buggy spinning down the long declivity which lay in front. At the bottom of this the road was intersected by a dry water course, fringed with bush; otherwise the _veldt_ was for the most part open, dotted with straggling clumps of mimosa.

Down went the buggy into the dry sandy drift. Suddenly the horses shied violently, then stopped short with a jerk which nearly upset the vehicle. A dark firm, springing panther-like, apparently from the ground, had seized the reins.

Instinctively Eustace recognised that this was no time for parleying.

Quick as thought he drew his revolver and fired. The a.s.sailant relaxed his hold, staggered, spun round, then fell heavily to the earth. The horses, thus released, tore wildly onward, mad with terror.

A roar and a red, sheeting flash split the darkness behind. The missiles hummed overhead, one of them tearing a hole in the wide brim of Eanswyth's hat. This aroused all the demon in the blood of her companion. Standing up in his seat, regardless of prudence, he pointed his revolver at the black onrushing ma.s.s discernible in the starlight, and fired three shots in rapid succession. A horrible, shrill, piercing scream, showed that they had told with widespread and deadly effect.

"Ha! _Bulala abelungu_!" [Death to the whites] howled the exasperated barbarians. And dropping flat on the ground they poured another volley into the retiring vehicle.

But the latter had gained some distance now. The horses, panic-stricken and well-nigh unmanageable, were tearing up the hill on the other side of the drift, and it was all their driver could do in the darkness to keep them in the track. The buggy swayed fearfully, and twice catching a wheel in an ant-heap was within an ace of turning over.

Suddenly one of the horses stumbled heavily, then fell. All his driver's efforts to raise him were useless. The poor beast had been struck by a bullet, and lay, feebly struggling, the blood pouring from a jagged wound in his flank.

The black bolt of despair shot through Eustace's heart. There was a feeble chance of escape for Eanswyth, but a very feeble one. Of himself he did not think. Quickly he set to work to cut loose the other horse.

But the traditional sagacity of that quadruped, as is almost invariably the case, failed in an emergency. He plunged and kicked in such wise as to hinder seriously, if not defeat, every effort to disengage him from the harness. Eustace, his listening powers at their utmost tension, caught the light pit-pat of the pursuers' footsteps racing up the hill in the darkness. They would be upon him before--

Ha! The horse was loose.

"Quick, Eanswyth. Mount! It is your only chance!" he said, shortening the reins into a bridle and holding them for her.

"I will not."

"Quick, quick! Every moment lost is a life!"

"I will not. We will die together. I will not live without you," and the heroic flash in the grand eyes was visible in the starlight.

The stealthy footsteps were now plainly audible. They could not have been two hundred yards distant. Suddenly the horse, catching a renewed access of panic, plucked the reins from Eustace's hand, and careered wildly away into the _veldt_. The last chance of escape was cut off.

They must die together now. Facing round, crouching low behind the broken-down vehicle, they listened for the approach of the pursuers.

All the bitterness of the moment was upon those two--upon him especially--crouching there in the dark and lonely _veldt_. Their reunion was only to be a reunion in death.

The last dread act was drawing on. The stealthy steps of the approaching foe were now more distinctly audible. With a deadly and vengeful fire at his heart, Eustace prepared to sell their lives as dearly as ever life was sold.

"We need not fear, my sweet one," whispered the heroine at his side.

"We are dying together."

Nearer--nearer, came those cat-like footfalls. Then they ceased. The pulses of the two anxious listeners beat with an intense and surging throb of expectation in the dead silence.

But instead of those stealthy feet, swift to shed blood, there was borne upon the night the sound of horses' hoofs. Then a crash of fire-arms, and a ringing cheer. No savage war-cry that, but a genuine British shout.

"That you, Milne?" cried a familiar voice. "All right: keep cool, old man. We shan't hit you by mistake. How many are there?"

"I don't know. Better not tackle them in the dark, Hoste. Who is with you?"

"Some Police. But where are the n.i.g.g.e.rs?"

Where indeed? Savages have no stomach for facing unknown odds. Their late a.s.sailants had prudently made themselves scarce.

"We seem to be only just in time, anyway?" said Hoste, with a long whistle of consternation as he realised the critical position of affairs. "Is Mrs Carhayes all right?" he added anxiously.