As it happened, Piet Bok was unable to send them to Pretoria as he had wished. The Boers were now engaged with Buller's division, and were falling back to a hill called Spion Kop, a name hardly known at that time, but fated in two or three days to be spoken of all over the world. Not a burgher could be spared to escort them to the capital, but, strangely enough, a sufficient number were told off to guard the farm house. Harold was somewhat suspicious of this arrangement--suspicious that somehow Van Zwieten had had to do with it; but he had no means of making certain. The Dutchman had never come near them, but they feared him all the more now that he was out of sight, and fully7 expected some fresh trouble. As he had warned Mrs. Burton, he had not done with them yet.
Occasionally they were visited by Piet Bok, and the old man still seemed as kindly8 disposed as ever, but as yet he could do nothing to help them; so for five days they had to make the best of their irksome captivity. Not even a book or a paper could they find. However, putting aside the constant dread9 of Van Zwieten, they were not unhappy. The house stood so high that there was a splendid view of a large plain, and on the left a huddle10 of hills. Beyond these the fighting was going on, and the prisoners could hear the boom of the cannon11 and the shriek12 of shells. At times they could see the smoke of the battle afar off. Harold hoped that the advance of the army would bring them help at last, but the fighting was in a more westerly direction, and the hoped-for help never came.
"If we could only escape, Brenda!" he said for the hundredth time. "It is maddening to be shut up here and to listen to all that! We must make one desperate attempt to get away. You are not afraid, I know?"
"I am not afraid," replied his wife, "but we must not be rash. We have no weapons, no horses, no food. I don't see how we are to manage it."
"Nor do I, unless Piet Bok will help us. These men outside would give us no quarter if we tried to get away. They are just dying to get rid of us."
Brenda shuddered14. "Harold, don't! It is terrible to think of. I feel sure all will come right in the end."
"It won't if Van Zwieten can help it."
"He will have enough to do to look after himself. Harold, that man will die!"
"How do you know? Do you mean a violent death, and that soon?"
"Yes, that is just what I do mean. My mother was a Highland15 woman, and had what they call second-sight. I have not got it myself, I suppose, because I am not a pure Celt. But I have enough of the seer in me to have a presentiment16 about that man! I feel certain that he will die by violence, and that shortly. I can't explain myself more clearly."
"One never can explain a feeling of that sort. You told this to Van Zwieten himself?"
"Yes, and I frightened him. Perhaps that is why he has not been near us."
"I should not have thought he was superstitious17, Brenda; nor you either, for that matter."
"I am not, as a rule," was her reply, "but I feel that what I say is true. Van Zwieten will die!"
Harold, sturdy, stolid18 Englishman as he was, tried to argue her out of this idea, but he gave it up as hopeless. She had made up her mind that their enemy was a dead man, or would be dead within a few days. Strange to say, it was on that very day that he paid them his first visit. He looked as handsome and as burly as ever. Going by appearances, he had a good many years of villainy before him yet.
He came up to the veranda20 and saluted21 Mrs. Burton with a low bow of which she took no notice.
"You are surprised to see me?" he said, with his usual cool insolence22.
"I cannot say that I am surprised at anything you do," was Harold's disdainful reply. "But if you have come to make the same proposition you made before, I warn you that I shall not listen to it so patiently."
The Dutchman cast a quick glance at the slender figure of the other man. "I am not afraid of you," he sneered24; "you have no weapons--neither sword nor revolver."
"I can use my fists even on such a big bully25 as you!"
"As you please. But I don't see much chance of delivering my message until you moderate your tone."
"What is your message?" asked Brenda, speaking for the first time.
"I come to offer you freedom."
"On what conditions?"
"There are none. I love you still. If I had my way I would kill your husband and marry you. But unfortunately," said Van Zwieten, with a sneer23, "I am amongst a very moral people. Piet Bok has told the Boer generals about what they are pleased to call my wickedness, and I have been informed that if I persist in my plans I may say good-bye to all advancement26 amongst the godly Boers. Now I am a poor man, and cannot afford to lose all I have gained. Ambition for me must be stronger than love. So, Mrs. Burton, I give you up!"
"Thank God!" cried she, clasping her hands; adding, as an afterthought, "If I could only believe you!"
"Oh, you can believe me," he said gloomily. "If I were only a rich man--rich enough to give up my position here--I would never rest until you were mine. But the choice lies now between you and my position. I choose to lose you. From this moment you need have no fear of me. You can go with your husband where you will. You do not love me--I know it now--but him you do love--unworthy though he is----"
"That is a lie!" Captain Burton cried, starting up.
"Hush27, Harold! Is it worth while arguing about? Let him go on. Well, Mr. van Zwieten, you have come to tell us this. What else?"
"I have come to offer you my assistance to escape."
"Oh! That is what I hardly expected to hear you say. And you must pardon me if I don't believe you."
"As you please," he said again. "But you can escape to-night if you will. The men here now I shall take away with me shortly. Two horses will be left behind--food is in the house; and here are a couple of revolvers--one for you and one for Burton."
They took the weapons in silence. Could this be Van Zwieten? They did not know him in this new r?le of self-abnegation, and the suspicions of both husband and wife were thoroughly28 aroused. But the revolvers were good ones, and they were loaded. Could it be that he spoke6 truly and that he was anxious now to retrieve29 his past, to give up his plotting and spying and to live a virtuous30 life amongst the too-moral Boers, who had indeed, perhaps, forced him to do this thing?
Still Brenda looked doubtfully at him, for compulsory31 righteousness was somewhat hard to credit.
"I see you don't believe me," he said, after a pause. "Well, perhaps you are right. It is rather late in the day for me to turn saint. But you may be sure I should not do this unless I had some very strong inducement. If you are taken to Pretoria you will only remain to vex32 my eyes, and I want to get you out of sight. That is my reason for giving you your freedom. To-night I will send a messenger who will guide you to the British outposts. They are not so far off as you think. Buller has advanced almost to Spion Kop, and he has taken several of our positions. If he gets Spion Kop--and I understand Warren intends to capture it if he can--he will have the key to our position and will march on to Ladysmith. But"--he shrugged33 his shoulders--"there is many a slip, you know. Well, I will go in and get my men. Will you follow my messenger?"
"I can't say yet," Captain Burton said bluntly. "You speak fair enough, but this may be a trick for all I know."
"How should I benefit by a trick?" Van Zwieten asked. "If I wanted to kill you I could do it now, and no one would be the wiser. The Boers here would shoot you with pleasure. But if I killed you and took Mrs. Burton, why, then, good-bye to my chance of becoming President of the Confederate States of South Africa. No, I will let you go; it suits me better. Love, as I said, must yield to ambition. But if you do not believe me, stay here. My messenger shall come at eight o'clock to-night. Follow him or not as you please. Good-bye, Mrs. Burton. You little know what it is to me to give you up; but you must say I afford you every chance of being happy with your husband."
Brenda looked at him. She began to think he was acting34 in good faith after all.
"I am not ungrateful," she said gently. "We will follow your messenger. Good-bye," and she held out her hand to him.
Van Zwieten bent35 over it and kissed it. Then he drew himself up, looked at Harold steadfastly36 and turned away in silence.
"Do you believe in him?" asked Brenda after a pause.
"I don't know. Upon my soul, I don't know. He is such a scoundrel. I wonder you could let him kiss your hand, Brenda!"
"Craft must be met by craft," she replied in a whisper. "You silly boy, you don't mean to say you are jealous of that? Can't you see that I wanted to disarm37 his suspicions so that we might get away safely?"
"Then you don't believe in him?
"No; he has some scheme in his head. Hush, it's not safe to talk about it now--when he's gone. Meanwhile, let him think we accept his offer."
It would really seem as though Van Zwieten were acting straightforwardly38 for the first time in his life. The Boers who had been guarding the place got their rifles, saddled the horses, and, headed by Van Zwieten, took themselves off down the mountain-side, and were shortly afterward39 to be seen riding across the veldt in a northerly direction. Captain Burton, still suspicious, could not believe in his good fortune. With Brenda he proceeded to explore the house. It was empty. They searched the orchard40, the sheep kraals, the Kaffir huts--in fact, the whole domain41, but they could find no trace of a single soul. No weapons had been left, but they had the revolvers. In the stable were two horses already saddled. Harold pointed42 this out to his wife.
"Ready, you see, for the journey!" said he. "Van Zwieten is evidently very sure that we shall accept his offer."
"Well, we'll not disappoint him so far as the horses are concerned," replied Brenda; "but as to waiting for his messenger, I don't think we'll do that."
"Why, Brenda, what do you mean? We don't know an inch of the country."
"Probably this messenger of Van Zwieten's will know it rather too well for our liking43. I don't trust the arrangement in the least. Believe me, dear, he will only lead us into some trap and we shall be prisoners again."
"I don't see that Van Zwieten need have given himself the trouble to do that--we were his prisoners already."
"I can't see through it at present either. But, nevertheless, I'm sure there's something at the back of his ostensible44 generosity45."
Captain Burton was at a loss how to interpret it. On the whole, he was inclined to trust to his wife's instinct. He had no sort of premise46 on which to argue against it.
So they had something to eat and decided47 to leave at sundown. Beyond the hills they knew the British were engaging the enemy, so if they made due west they had every hope of coming up with the outposts of the advancing column. There was, of course, always the chance that they might not get even so far safely, but that they preferred to risk rather than trust in Mr. van Zwieten.
Their horses were wiry little animals enough, and, if put to it, could show a very pretty pace. They fed and watered them now preparatory to their start. On the whole they were sanguine48.
Then came a surprise. As they were making their own meal they heard from outside a voice hailing them in English. Harold rushed to the door and returned shortly with Piet Bok. The old man looked anxious, and hurried forward to shake Brenda by the hand.
"Thank the dear Lord you are safe," he said with emotion. "I feared it might be otherwise--that you had fallen into that man's snare49."
"Then it was a snare!" cried Brenda, at this confirmation50 of her own feelings. "Tell us, Mynheer Bok, what was his plan?"
"Ach! is it not to tell it you and save you from it I am here?" He rubbed his hands. "I will show Van Zwieten that others can be slim as he. Beloved Lord, he is the seed of Satan, that man."
"He took away the guards, but he has left us the two revolvers and a couple of mounts all ready saddled."
"Quite so; and he is to send a messenger soon, is he not, to lead you to the British camp?"
"Yes, yes."
"Believe him not. That messenger will not lead you to your camp, but to an ambuscade of Boers headed by Van Zwieten himself. Then your husband here will be shot and you will be carried off."
"The scoundrel! The double-dyed villain19! But why all this, mynheer? We were in his power already."
"No, you were not. You must understand that I have power with the burghers; yes, and I told them your story, and they were amazed at the wickedness of this man, and he was told to go out from amongst us lest the dear Lord should send evil on the host. Then he said he would desist from his wicked schemes and send you on to Pretoria to be dealt with by the President. But I overheard his conversation with the messenger whom he intends to send to you, and I know his plan. You are to be carried off, as I have told you, and in durance vile4 kept until the war is over. Your husband will be shot, probably by Van Zwieten himself. But of all this he will say not a word to the burghers, and thus he will maintain his place amongst them. You see why he does not act openly?
"I see," said Brenda, her color rising. "Now what are we to do?"
"Come with me at once," said Piet Bok. "I will lead you by another route to your outposts, and so shall we thwart51 this son of the pit. But you must come at once, there is not a moment to lose."
"But the messenger?"
"Of course we do not wait for him. It would mean death to you or to him."
"Right you are, then; let's get off straight away. It's getting dark already."
"Ach, yes! that is well. Come along, then."
Their trust in the old man was implicit52. He had always proved a friend hitherto. The sun was setting in floods of gold over the mountain-tops as they rode down the path which descended53 to the veldt. Heavy rains had rendered the ground sodden54. Piet Bok headed for a point in the hills where he said there was a pass other than the one in which Van Zwieten was waiting. Unluckily, as they started across the veldt, they saw a horseman coming toward them at full speed.
"The messenger!" cried Brenda. "What are we to do now, mynheer?"
The old man unslung his gun. "Kill him," he said quietly, "else he will ride on and tell Van Zwieten. If he sees me with you he will guess the truth. It is well known in laager that I am the enemy of Van Zwieten."
"Must he really be killed?" asked Brenda, with a shudder13. It was terrible to her that this man should be shot in cold blood.
"It is his life or mine, dear," said her husband, pulling out his revolver to be ready if Piet Bok should fail.
But the approaching Boer was not going to trust himself at close quarters. He circled round them and held out a white flag in token of friendship. Harold laughed grimly as he recognized the old trick. Piet Bok sighted, and fired. But the fellow flung himself flat down on his horse's neck and the shot missed him.
He rode off with a defiant55 whoop56. A big Dutch oath escaped from the lips of Piet Bok, and he caught Brenda's horse by the bridle57.
"We must ride for it," he said. "The man recognized me, and you too. He will hasten back to Van Zwieten, and they will be after us in no time. We must make for the hills."
"How can I thank you, Bok?" said Harold, gratefully.
"Almighty58, that is right! you spared my boy Hans."
By this time the messenger was a mere59 speck60 on the horizon. He was riding like the wind to take this news to his chief.
The three fugitives61 made a straight line for the pass, urging their horses to their best. The sun had dropped behind the mountains and the shadows were gathering62 fast on the veldt. For several hours they tore on until they reached the mouth of the pass. There they pulled up to give themselves and their animals breath.
"I think we can count ourselves safe now," said Piet Bok, wiping his brow. "But we must push on through the pass. At the other side let us hope we shall come up with your men."
The track was narrow and winding63 and full of mud, which fouled64 the horses and made the climbing doubly hard. It was quite dark there, but Piet knew every inch of the path, and rode on ahead fearless and confident. In about an hour they emerged. There were the lights of the British camp twinkling a mile and a half away.
As they commenced the descent they heard a shot ring out, and Brenda gave a cry of dismay. Piet Bok had fallen from his saddle.
"Ride, ride for your lives!" cried the old man. "He has come round by the other pass."
And so it was. Van Zwieten, instead of following at their rear, had pushed through the other pass and had cut them off. But he had made one mistake. He had allowed them to get out of the pass on to the higher ground instead of cutting them off from the camp. As shot followed shot, Harold caught Brenda's horse by the bridle. Headlong they tore down toward the plain.
The light, or rather the dark, was all against the pursuers. They gave up firing and made to overtake them. But the sound of the muskets65 had already been heard in the camp, and they could hear the bugles66 ringing out. Whether the brave old Boer who had saved them was dead or not they did not know. It was beyond their power to aid him. They urged their horses on and on, for in their speed lay the only hope of escape.
"Courage, Brenda!" cried Harold. "Stick to it; they've heard the firing in camp."
"I will, dear--I will."
Then her husband looked round, and an exclamation67 of mingled68 relief and triumph came from him. They had given up the chase.
"They've had enough of it, hurrah69!" he cried.
They were now within a short distance of the camp, and could hear the commands being given consequent on what evidently had been taken for the commencement of a surprise on the part of the Boers. Those behind them had turned and fled now in the opposite direction--all of them save Van Zwieten.
He stood up and fired twice. But his shot fell wide. Then Harold turned and tried what his revolver would do at that range. Van Zwieten's arm fell useless. Then he galloped70 off, none too soon, for a squadron of mounted infantry71 came on the scene just at the moment.
"What's all this?" shouted the captain in command.
"We have escaped!" shouted Harold--"Burton and Mrs. Burton."
"What, is it you, old man?" cried a friendly voice--a voice they knew well.
For the fourth time Brenda had escaped her enemy.
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sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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6
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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7
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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12
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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13
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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14
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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15
highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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advancement
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| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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29
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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30
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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straightforwardly
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| adv.正直地 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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42
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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43
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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44
ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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45
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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46
premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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47
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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48
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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49
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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50
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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51
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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52
implicit
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| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
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53
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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54
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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55
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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56
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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57
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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61
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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62
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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63
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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64
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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65
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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66
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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67
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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68
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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69
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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70
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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71
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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