Chapter Thirty Six.
“What a Brick!”
Every one burst into the hurried flow of conversation that now followed the colonel’s announcement, the excitement growing at the thought of the dreary siege at last coming to an end, while, to judge from the remarks, the feeling at the table was one of relief at the prospect of at last trying final conclusions with the Boers.
“Yes,” said Captain Edwards to those near him, “I am heartily glad. Let them come on and give us a chance of some real fighting. All this miserable sniping and lurking behind stones has been barbarous. People say that the Boers are patriotic and brave: let them act like soldiers and give us a chance.”
The conversation grew more and more exciting, till the meagre repast was at an end, when the colonel rose and walked round to the back of Dickenson’s seat.
“Come to my quarters,” he said quietly, and he walked out, followed by the young subaltern.
The stars were out, shining brightly, and all looked peaceful and grand as the colonel led on to his hut, with Dickenson stringing himself up for the encounter he was about to have with his chief, and growing more and more determined and stubborn as the moment approached.
“I don’t care,” he said to himself. “I’ll tell him I’ll challenge Roby, whether it’s allowed or not;” and then he felt as if some one had thrown cold water in his face, for the colonel said quietly:
“What a grand night, Dickenson! I wonder what our friends are doing at home, and whether they are thinking about us.”
Dickenson stared at him, but it was too dark for him to distinguish the play of his officer’s countenance.