"Graeme!"
"So he is, if he advises giving up; and it's all very well for him, he won't get the blame—you will. He'll probably say afterwards too, he was all for going on, but you wouldn't."
Again Bradford was silent. From what he knew of staff officers, he thought that this was more than likely to be true, and the idea was unpleasant. And then a fatal and ever-to-be-regretted moment of weakness came over him, and he turned to Graeme.
"What would you advise, then?" he said. "I don't mind owning I'm done."
"Try for a bit longer, anyway," was the instant response. "Look here, Colonel, I, as you know, am not much of a tactician, but this is not a question of tactics; it's a question of our will against Van der Tann's and my—ours is stronger than his; I know it."
"I don't follow you, Graeme," said Bradford, looking puzzled, for to him psychology was an unknown region.
"Simply this, we've been after this fellow now for six weeks and one of us must give, and that soon. The strain is too great to last. Our lot may be bad, but think what his must be, with us always hanging on to his heels, and never knowing when we're going to pounce on them. I know he goes as fast as we do, faster perhaps, but so does the rabbit than the stoat, yet the stoat gets him in the end, because the rabbit's nerve goes and he chucks it."
"Yes, but the rabbit can't turn round and fight the stoat. Van der Tann can; a nice plight we should be in if he were to attack us to-night. Regular cul-de-sac this place we're in."
"Not much attack left in men who've been pursued for six weeks; besides, they're probably thinking the same about us."
"Hum, can't say I think much of your argument, Graeme. Let's go and have tea. I suppose we've not run out of that, have we? Coming? No? Well, don't go beyond the sentry line, these Dutchmen are always prowling about;" and Bradford rose and walked slowly away, leaving Hector seated on the ground.