"Then it was a snare!" cried Brenda, at this confirmation of her own feelings. "Tell us, Mynheer Bok, what was his plan?"
"Ach! is it not to tell it you and save you from it I am here?" He rubbed his hands. "I will show Van Zwieten that others can be slim as he. Beloved Lord, he is the seed of Satan, that man."
"He took away the guards, but he has left us the two revolvers and a couple of mounts all ready saddled."
"Quite so; and he is to send a messenger soon, is he not, to lead you to the British camp?"
"Yes, yes."
"Believe him not. That messenger will not lead you to your camp, but to an ambuscade of Boers headed by Van Zwieten himself. Then your husband here will be shot and you will be carried off."
"The scoundrel! The double-dyed villain! But why all this, mynheer? We were in his power already."
"No, you were not. You must understand that I have power with the burghers; yes, and I told them your story, and they were amazed at the wickedness of this man, and he was told to go out from amongst us lest the dear Lord should send evil on the host. Then he said he would desist from his wicked schemes and send you on to Pretoria to be dealt with by the President. But I overheard his conversation with the messenger whom he intends to send to you, and I know his plan. You are to be carried off, as I have told you, and in durance vile kept until the war is over. Your husband will be shot, probably by Van Zwieten himself. But of all this he will say not a word to the burghers, and thus he will maintain his place amongst them. You see why he does not act openly?
"I see," said Brenda, her color rising. "Now what are we to do?"
"Come with me at once," said Piet Bok. "I will lead you by another route to your outposts, and so shall we thwart this son of the pit. But you must come at once, there is not a moment to lose."