"Hullo! Who the deuce are you?" the major exclaimed, "and how dare you enter my tent when I am away? What are you doing in the camp, sir? Show me your permit."
"I did not know anything about a permit," Yorke said in Dutch, disguising his voice as much as possible.
"How was it the sentry let you enter the camp?" the major said angrily.
"Hi, there!" he called to two of his men a little distance away. "Hi, hand this man over to the guard, and tell the sentry to keep a sharp eye upon him. I expect he is a spy, and by his going into my tent possibly a thief."
"You needn't do that, major," Yorke said as he answered him in English with a laugh. "You see I have been able to pass as a Boer, and even you, seeing me come out of your tent, did not recognize me."
The major broke into a laugh, telling the soldiers who were running up that it was all right, and they need not trouble themselves. Then, as he alighted, he took another good look at Yorke. "No, I certainly should not have known you. It is a wonderfully good get-up. That long hair changes your appearance completely, and those loose slovenly clothes quite alter your figure. You will be able to pass anywhere like that. Come in; let me see what you have done to your face. Even that seems changed somehow."
"It is only that I have darkened my eyebrows, sir."
"Where did you get that wig from?" he went on as Yorke, on entering, took off his hat.
"I sent down from De Aar, and had it specially made."