Roby turned on his heel wrathfully and went straight to the colonel’s quarters, to face him and the major, who was with him.
To his intense astonishment and delight, the colonel made the announcement that the south-west laager was to be attempted by surprise that night by a hundred and fifty men with the bayonet alone, the major in command, Captain Roby second, and Captain Edwards and the two subalterns of Roby’s company to complete the little force.
“When do we start, sir?” said Roby, with his heart beating fast.
“An hour before midnight,” said the colonel; and the major added:
“Without any sound of preparation. The men will assemble, and every precaution must be taken that not one of the blacks gets wind of the attempt so as to warn the enemy of our approach.”
“I have no more to add, Robson,” said the colonel. “You know where to make your advance. Take the place if you can without firing a shot, but of course, if fire should be necessary, use your own discretion.”
The whole business was done with the greatest absence of excitement. The three officers were warned at once; Captain Edwards looked delighted, but Dickenson began to demur.
“You are not fit to go, Drew,” he said.
“I never felt more fit,” was the reply, “and if you make any opposition you are no friend of mine.”
“Very well,” said Dickenson quietly; “but I feel that we’re going to have a sharp bit of business, and I can’t think that you are strong enough.”