A Traitor in London

by Fergus Hume

"Your blood be on your own head, then!" Van Zwieten turned as though to retire. Suddenly he sprang aside and flung up his hand. The Boers with him instantly had their rifles to their shoulders, and two shots rang out. Harold had just time to throw himself down, but one of his men was shot. The poor fellow flung up his arms with a cry. It had not died away before a volley came from the British soldiers within the farm; but by this time Van Zwieten and his companions had decamped and, expecting the return fire, had thrown themselves down. The larger body of Boers fired; and under cover of this the three scoundrels rolled, and afterwards ran into safety. Harold sprang back through the door, whither the other soldier had preceded him. He picked up the dead man in his arms, and, with bullets pattering about him like rain, carried the body indoors. Then the door was closed and the siege began. As the first shots came ping, ping against the red stone walls, the sun uprose in a blaze of glory, and all the veldt was flooded with golden splendour.

[CHAPTER XXV]

BESIEGED

The fence round the house was made of stone, and the Boers took advantage of this as cover, whilst some of them sheltered behind the trunks of the red gums. Even then the besieged had the advantage, for they were protected by the walls of the farmhouse, and could shoot without exposing themselves. To Van Zwieten, the disappointment of not having succeeded in shooting Harold in the first dastardly attack was very great. Had their leader been killed, he imagined that the soldiers would have surrendered, quite forgetting that it was not the custom of Englishmen to yield to anything but death. Now, however, there was nothing for it but to take the place before relief could arrive. By all his gods he swore that Brenda should be his.

Mrs. Burton herself remained in the sitting-room, revolver in hand. Far from being afraid, the girl, much to her own surprise, was filled with the terrible joy of battle; indeed, she was in the highest spirits. The Boers fired at the windows and wherever they saw a puff of smoke. As the bullets sang, and the smell of powder became stronger, Brenda could hardly contain her excitement. The Boer woman was on her knees in a back room praying with all her might that the accursed rooineks would be taken and killed. Her husband and sons were with the armies of the Republic, and her whole heart was with her countrymen outside. How gladly, had she dared, would she have opened the door to them!

Harold ordered his men to reserve their fire. His aim was not so much to score a victory as to hold the house until help arrived. On their side the enemy were equally careful, and the fight progressed but slowly. There were thirty Boers, more or less, and of these three were already dead, while two were wounded. Of those in the house only the man shot under the white flag was dead. Van Zwieten, looking anxiously over the plain, fearing every moment to see some sign of the British advance, cursed the slowness of the affair. At last he picked some men and sent them round to try and get at the horses of the besieged; but Harold had got them under shelter in a shed, with five men in front to guard them. The Boers creeping round the corner were met by a volley which killed four and wounded two. They fled swearing, and Captain Burton rejoiced.

"Reserve your fire, men! We shall hold out after all!"

"By Heaven we will, sir!" one of the men answered. "We'll fight to the last rather than an English lady should fall into the hands of these dirty rascals. Ho! Give 'em beans, you beggars!"

And this the beggars in question proceeded to do.

Then Van Zwieten sent forward a dozen men on to the verandah with a rush. Their advance was covered by a steady fire from the rear, though not one of the besiegers showed himself. Simultaneously another body attacked the back shed wherein the horses were housed, and in spite of the British fire succeeded in effecting their entrance to the yard. Then they rushed the shed, which was an open one. Two Englishmen fell, and there was no one to fill their places, for their comrades were fighting desperately on the verandah in front.