"It must get there to-night, d'you hear?"
"Oh, must it? You're in a hurry, you are! Oh, beg pardon, sir," as Graeme suddenly appeared behind him, having burst open the door marked "Private" and entered. "I'll send it off at once; it will be all right, I think, if the line's not blocked. Good-day, sir."
Hector rode slowly back to barracks, where till nightfall he wandered about aimlessly, his mind racked with this strange newborn anxiety and the impotent desire to act.
"Dinner—not going to dinner," he replied to Lobbs's reminder that the dress trumpet had sounded and the hour of eight was close at hand. "Bring me a bottle of champagne here; that's all I want. Another damnable night," he muttered, the meal of liquor consumed, "only nine now, twelve hours at least before I can get an answer. I think I'll send for my pony and spend the night on the veldt." He walked to the door, and as he did so, nine o'clock struck. Then a strange thing happened, for with the ceasing of the strokes the fever of restlessness suddenly left him, and in its place he felt perfect peace and calm. For half an hour longer he remained contentedly resting in his chair, his eyelids gradually growing heavier, and then sleepily undressing he lay down on the bed and was almost instantly asleep. Nor through the night hours did he move, but slept dreamlessly on, till a hot deluge in his face awoke him to the fact that early morning tea had arrived, and also that it was Private Lobb, and not the experienced Murphy, who had brought him that tea.
"Beggy pardin, sir," said the perspiring soldier, rushing for a towel and proceeding to mop the soaking bedclothes and incidentally Hector's face, "very sorry, sir; caught my foot; can't think 'ow it happened; 'ere's a tallygram for you, sir," and Lobb fled hastily from the room. A faint rustle of paper was heard from within and then all was silent save for the ticking of the clock.
"Lobb."
"Sir?" and in rushed the soldier. Once more he unfortunately "caught his foot," this time against the water-jug, which breaking at the impact let out a flood of water over the wooden floor.
"Beggy pardin, sir, I'm sure," began Lobb, in an agony, and then stopped, for his master was speaking to him, and at the sound of the voice and look in the eyes of the speaker the disaster was forthwith forgotten.
"Never mind that now, Lobb, but go at once and tell the Adjutant to come here, and then fetch a Cape cart. Ten minutes I give you; don't be longer," and Hector rose from his bed and sat smiling at Lobb, a smile that sent the latter flying from the room, leaving Hector alone.
Still smiling, he unfolded the paper in his hand and remained curiously regarding the charcoal-written words: "Stara dead."