But not for long. Hardly five minutes seemed to have passed before he was awake again—in reality it was as many hours. Daylight was streaming into the hut through the wicker-door, but what had really awakened him, and the other two as well, was a hubbub of voices outside.
“What the devil is that infernal racket?” he growled—a man awakened in the soundness of a much needed sleep is apt to growl.
“Don’t know. I’m listening,” returned Thornhill. And the purport of the said listening made the listener grow rather grave. Then the door was violently banged against, and excited voices ordered those within to come forth.
“What is it?” exclaimed Parry, springing up eager and alert. “Are we rescued?”
But to his two elder companions an idea suggested itself. Had a white force suddenly appeared and was threatening the kraal? If so the more excuse they could find for delaying to come forth from the hut the better.
“What is it?” called back Thornhill. “Wait now. Gahle, gahle! we must dress ourselves.”
They had lain down in their clothes, of course, but anything for an excuse to gain time. But those without did not see things in the same light. The uproar redoubled.
“Come forth! Come forth! Au! Dress yourselves? You shall be dressed—in red.”
Thornhill and Elvesdon looked at each other, and the look was that of men who knew that their last hour had come. The third, of course, did not understand what was being said, or rather howled, outside.
“Well, you can wait,” called back Elvesdon. “I am an official of the Government—of the most powerful Government the world has ever seen. I am not accustomed to be hurried, and I will not be. When we are ready we will come forth.”