“I give no word. Surrender unconditionally,” cried Lennox, whose blood was up.
“Give your word, you miserable rooinek!” growled the Boer, whose teeth shone in the light, giving him the aspect of some fierce beast at bay. “Give your word. You’re covered—your word of honour, or I’ll fire.”
“Fire!” shouted Captain Roby from behind; but the six men halted before obeying the ill-judged command. For, in response to the Boer’s threat, Lennox had sprung forward to strike at the presented piece, the edge of his sword clicking loudly against the barrel of the rifle, turning it sufficiently aside to disorder the desperate man’s aim, so that the bullet whistled by him and over the heads of his men, before sending a little shower of granite splinters and dust from the side of the cavern.
Before the Boer could fire again Lennox had him by the throat, and in another minute he was held up against the cavern wall by three men with their bayonets, while the sergeant wrested the rifle from his hands and tore away the man’s well-filled bandolier.
“Ah!” he snarled; “cowards again. Always cowards, since the day when you ran away from us at Majuba.”
“Hold your tongue, sir, before you are hurt by some of the men who know that they have one of the bravo miscreants before them who lay powder-mines ready to destroy those they dare not fight in the open field.”
“Tell the dog I’ll have him gagged as well as bound if he does not keep his tongue quiet,” said Captain Roby, coming up.
The Boer laughed mockingly; and Captain Roby, who seemed unable to restrain the anger rising within him, turned away.
“See that he has no revolver, Lennox,” he said hoarsely, “and try to find out whether he has any companions.”
“He wouldn’t say if he had,” replied Lennox; “but we’ll soon search and see. Sergeant James is making him fast. Yes, he had a revolver,” he continued as he saw the sergeant take the weapon and thrust it inside his belt.