Again there arose that shrill, terrific war-cry. Marion shuddered, and wound her arms round her sister’s slender waist.
“Poor wretches!” said Eleanor, lifting her mournful eyes to heaven—“poor misguided beings!” and, clasping her hands, her lips moved in inaudible prayer.
Frankfort watched her as she implored Heaven in behalf of the unhappy savages, and could not help contrasting her mild courage with her mother’s authoritative air of resolution and her sister’s utter helplessness and terror.
All night long the little garrison of Annerley stood to its arms, the sentinels immovable at the outposts, Daveney and Frankfort going the rounds at intervals, Ormsby in command of the party guarding the rearward premises, his head-quarters being the trellised passage, from which he occasionally looked in upon the ladies. He had been particularly requested by his host to act under the directions of the old Griqua, who had been a soldier in the Cape Corps, and whose experience was invaluable; and, what was more than Frankfort had expected, Ormsby had the good sense to see this, and acknowledge it.
Daveney, albeit far from easy as to the safety of his family, would not permit his domestic troubles to interfere with his duties as master of a household.
Once, when on his rounds with Frankfort, he looked in upon the group, and asked how all went on. Marmion had made his way into the sitting-room, and stretched himself at Eleanor’s feet, with his black muzzle to the ground, and ears and eyes wide open, keeping watch and ward over the group. Marion lay on a couch, her head pillowed on her sister’s arm, and fast asleep, her ringlets hanging, all dishevelled, round her, and Mrs Daveney’s anxious gaze was riveted on a loop-hole looking eastward, watching with weary heart the long-coming of the dawn.
So wore on the night. The fires on the hills died away; the gorgeous sun, opening his gates of glory, came forth to dispel the smoke and vapours that obscured the distant mountains and floated over the plains; the night sentinels were relieved, and other watches set; the house was put in order for the morning refreshment, so much needed; the herdsmen, well armed, led the cattle to the open ground fronting the settlement, and the ladies retired to their own apartments for a while.
Frankfort then expressed his deep anxiety about the missing members of his train; but as it was considered by his host highly imprudent to reduce the force of the garrison under present circumstances, there was nothing for it but to leave May to his known sagacity, and hope that old Piet had not brought himself and others into danger through his obstinacy and imprudence; for there was no denying that the vley indicated by May as the outspan was flanked on one side by a dense bush, a notorious haunt of Kafirs.
Our two sportsmen were ushered by Mr Daveney into a tolerably-sized apartment, divided by a wooden partition running little more than half way to the roof. Everything was in the most homely style, but exquisitely neat. In each domicile was a small camp bedstead, table, chair, and chest of drawers, all manufactured by their ingenious host. Sheepskin mats were spread on the earthen floor, and the walls, originally white-washed, were gaily papered with manifold prints and engravings from some of those publications which, for the last fifteen years, have taken England and her customs through the length and breadth of the earth. The windows were, of course, partially screened by brickwork; but the sun pierced one of the loops, and shed its rays on the picture of a popular danseuse. Frankfort would have smiled at the associations called forth by such an anomaly, but his heart misgave him about his faithful servant, and though he lay down, he could not rest, and he longed to start in search of May; but that would have been absurdly imprudent.
At noon the cattle herds came running in, to say that horsemen were in sight; and Daveney, on examining the defile behind the settlement, descried, to his great satisfaction, a party of burghers, headed by an escort of Cape cavalry.