“To be sure you are,” said Dickenson.
“How do you know?”
“By my lord the prisoner’s phiz here. He gave quite a twitch when you tapped that last rock but one.”
“Ha!” cried Lennox; “then there is a way in here. I thought it sounded hollow.”
He stepped back and began to tap the rough stone again to prove his words, every one now noticing that the rock gave out a dull, hollow tone; while, unable to contain himself, the prisoner, as he lay tightly bound upon his back, uttered a low, hissing sound as he drew in a deep breath.
“Here we are,” cried Lennox, more excited than ever. “Sergeant, give some one else that lantern; take a man with you up there by the gun, and bring back a crowbar or two, and one of the engineers’ picks.”
The men went off at once, and while the party awaited their return Lennox went on examining the rough block of granite by which he stood, but looked in vain for any sign of hinge or fastening.
“I hope you are right, Lennox,” said Captain Edwards, who had stepped to his side; and he spoke in a low voice.
“So do I,” was the reply; “but I feel sure that there is, for there must be a hiding-place somewhere. Wait a bit, and we shall capture the prisoner’s mate.”
Lennox involuntarily glanced down at where the carefully bound Boer lay with the light shining full upon his eyes, and he could not repress a start as he saw the malignant flash that seemed to dart from them into his own. It affected him so that he ceased his examination for the moment, waiting impatiently till the distant sound of steps announced the return of the sergeant and the man bearing the implements he had sought.