The boat slipped under the grey bulk of the cruiser, and they were assisted up the side--a matter of some difficulty in mid-ocean--and were received by the captain. Then he anxiously asked for his officer's report concerning the suspected contraband. It was evidently a disappointment to him, and full steam ahead for Durban was then ordered. The boat was swung on the davits, the screw revolved, and in a few moments the Juno was getting along at a great rate. Then the captain took Brenda by the arm and led her down to a cabin.
"You know that your husband has escaped, Mrs. Burton?" he asked, smiling.
"Yes, but how did he get away? I feel so bewildered at all----"
"Will you walk in there, please?" was the reply. "Some one is waiting to explain."
Brenda began to tremble. Something told her what she might expect. As she entered, she saw a man in khaki, tall and slim, waiting for her with outstretched arms. She uttered a cry of joy. "Oh, Harold! Harold! my darling boy! At last! at last!"
And she fell into her husband's arms.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
IN SOUTH AFRICA.
It was indeed Harold--thinner, perhaps, than when he had left England, but bronzed and hardened, and fit in every way for the arduous work of the campaign. Brenda clung to him as though she would never let him go. She looked upon him as one who had been snatched from the jaws of death; and assuredly he would have found a grave in Pretoria had he been left to the tender mercies of Van Zwieten. He, on his side, was delighted and moved beyond words at her tenderness, and at her pluck in undertaking a toilsome and dangerous journey to be near him. It was some time before husband and wife recovered themselves sufficiently to exchange confidences. Brenda cried in spite of her brave spirit, for the joy of this unexpected meeting had shaken her nerves. When she had regained her composure, and was able to speak, it was to congratulate her husband on his escape from Pretoria, and from the dangerous custody of Van Zwieten. He laughed outright.
"That is just where you make the mistake, my love!" he said. "I never was in or near Pretoria, and I have seen nothing of Van Zwieten since I left England. What on earth makes you think so?"