It was still intensely dark, so by a hurried arrangement Jack and Guy each linked an arm in one of Mrs Robb’s, and thus, guided by her and helping her over the rough ground, they pressed forward at their fastest pace, knowing well that there was much to be done ere morning.
For an hour they trudged on, and then suddenly halted, and hastily concealed themselves in a small copse of trees. They were barely in time, for a moment later some twenty Boers rode slowly by, making no sound on the grassy plain.
“Those are the men who were told off to tie them to the guns,” whispered Jack. “At least I expect that is who they are, and if so we are lucky once more.”
“I’m sure that the man riding in front is the Boer who was in charge of the two prisoners,” Guy answered. “Come along, Jack. They have gone on sufficiently far now.”
“No, not yet. We will not ruin everything for the sake of a few minutes, Guy. Let them get well ahead and then we will move on. How near are we to the hill now, Mrs Robb?”
“Quite close, Mr Somerton,” the English lady answered. “If I guide you on about three hundred yards farther you will be at the foot, and there I will stop and wait for you. How shall I know that it is you when you return?”
“I will whistle like this,” Jack answered, giving a low whistle. “Of course, if you hear firing, or any row going on on top, you will know that we have caught a tartar, and that our hopes of reaching the camp are over. In that case you had better slip back to the farm.”
“Ah, it will not be that!” Mrs Robb answered with confidence. “We deserve a better reward than that, and I feel sure that God will see us through this trouble safely. May He permit us to reach the English camp with your friends, and may He in His goodness grant that my poor husband be restored to me!”
“Amen, amen!” Jack and Guy answered huskily.
“Now it is time to be moving on, Guy,” said Jack, and, linking arms once more, they left their shelter and pushed on without a halt till they reached the base of the hill.