Eileen Russel stepped forward from her corner, and, grasping Jack by the hand, gazed searchingly into his face, as though she was still uncertain of his identity. Then she suddenly sat down in a chair, and, hiding her face in her hands, sobbed as if her heart would break. But it was merely the reaction after the terrible hour of torment she had suffered, and, cheered by a gentle pat on the back from Jack’s strong hand, she soon regained her composure and dried her eyes.
“Father is here, Jack,” she exclaimed eagerly. “He is down below in the cellar, where Tim and I hid him. He is wounded—badly, I fear. Those Boer cowards rode up here just before daylight, and ordered Father to come out and be taken before their leader. Father asked what they wanted with him, and they shouted back that this part of English territory had been annexed by the Boers, and that as an old inhabitant he was bound to fight for them now that he was no longer a subject of the queen.”
“‘Get away from here at once,’ Father shouted back, as soon as he had heard what they had to say. ‘I am a British subject, and shall be to the end. None of your republics or presidents for me! Clear off, all of you; and if one of you dares to attempt to come in I will shoot!’
“The Boers laughed at his threat, and attempted to beat in the door, but Father was as good as his word, and shot one of them at once. The others poured a volley into the house, and one of the bullets passed through the wall and wounded Father in the shoulder. Then the Boers made a rush, and began to force the door open, and as we knew that they would have little mercy for Father, Tim and I hid him away in a cellar down below, which he had constructed to keep stores and ammunition in. Then we lowered the trap-door and placed the table over it.
“They broke in a few minutes later, but, failing to find him, thought he had escaped through the window. Then they forced me to play my violin, and just as I thought they would shoot Tim or myself, the leader fell dead and the others ran for their lives.”
“Well, you are safe for the present at least,” answered Jack. “Sit down there, Eileen, and rest yourself. We will get your father up again. Those fellows will not be coming back yet awhile, so that we need not fear a surprise. Now, Wilfred and Tim, lend a hand and pull up this trap.”
A minute later the table had been removed to one side, and Jack was clambering down into the cellar, Tim lowering the lamp after him. On the boarded floor he found Frank Russel lying upon his back, and making feeble efforts to rise, for the reports of Jack’s rifle had roused him from unconsciousness.
“Where am I? What has happened?” he asked. “Hallo! is that you, Jack! Where’s Tom Salter?”
Then he suddenly remembered the Boers and sat up with a jerk.
“Ah! what has become of those brutes?” he demanded, clutching at the rifle which had been placed beside him, while his face flushed red with rage.