"I heard the rattle of a stone over there on the right;" and he again challenged.
No answer came.
"It was only a hare," the other grumbled. "Don't fire, Jans, whatever you do. We shall be rousing everybody, and a nice temper they would be in with you for disturbing them."
"I don't believe it was a hare," the other said. "It sounded like a rock that had shifted its place when someone trod on it. It was too big a stone to move with the weight of a hare. Well, if I hear anything else I will send a bullet in that direction, whether it wakes the camp or not. You heard what the field cornet said. Someone may be trying to get in to help this lad to escape."
Yorke lay awake for some time, and then, as everything remained quiet, he went off to sleep again. In the morning he breakfasted with the field cornet, and had a bowl of cocoa and milk, with bread broken into it.
"Now," the latter said when he had finished, "I must send you on to Boshof. If I could have my own way, lad, I would send you back into the town, and you could tell them there that we are keeping a sharp look-out, and that it is of no use any one trying to get through. But I can't do that; I must send you off to Boshof. Four of my men have to go there to buy provisions, and they will look after you. I have written a letter to the commandant, and hope that he will treat you well. They won't be starting until this afternoon, as they will sleep there and come back in the morning. Of course they will ride, and you can have one of my ponies. Mind," he went on with a smile, "it will be the slowest of the lot I have, for your promise not to escape expired this morning. The four men will all be on better ponies than yours, so it will be of no use your trying to get off."
"I sha'n't try," Yorke laughed; "even if they could not overtake me, they could shoot my pony. I don't want to be made a target for four of your rifles. My chance has not arrived yet. When it does, I shall take it."
At three o'clock the party started, the field cornet shaking hands warmly with Yorke, and saying as he mounted: "I am sorry we caught you, lad. You could have done us no harm if you had got round to your people at the Modder. Though, perhaps, you are lucky in not being able to get farther, for you might fall into the hands of the Transvaalers, and, although they are our friends, I must acknowledge that they are a pretty rough lot."
"I am very much obliged to you for your kindness, for you have treated me as well as our men would have treated you if you had fallen into their hands."
A minute later he was riding along the road with two of the Boers on each side of him. The distance was some five-and-twenty miles, and, sometimes walking, sometimes cantering, they reached the town between six and seven. Yorke had chatted cheerfully to one of his guards, who spoke English, feeling apparently but little anxiety as to his position.