Part 42 (2/2)
”I don't know so much about that, but we should get some warning from the horses and oxen. Bah! It's not likely. What now?”
There was a heavy thumping at the door leading into the other room, and the vrouw's shrill voice was heard ordering them to put out the light.
”Tell her, West, that her royal commands shall be instantly obeyed by her obedient slaves.”
”Shan't,” replied West. ”That will quiet her,” and he turned out the light, putting an end to its abominable emanation of coa.r.s.e petroleum, while the soft starry light of a glorious night stole in, showing the shapes of door and windows.
”Hah! That's better!” said Ingleborough, making the rough bedstead creak as he laid himself gently down. ”I hope none of these cartridges will explode. Oh, how I can sleep!”
”And so can I,” sighed West, ”even dressed up like this,” after laying his rifle alongside of his companion's, straight down the middle of the bed.
”We didn't tell Jack the Kaffir to bring our shaving-water at daybreak,”
said Ingleborough, who now that he was in a horizontal position seemed to have suddenly grown wakeful. ”I say.”
”Well?”
”I wonder how our dear friend Anson is!”
West made no reply.
”I say! West!”
”Oh, don't talk, please. I want to sleep.”
”All right, you shall, till I see the pearly dawn streaming in through that little window at the back here. I say, though, if you hear me turn round in the night and the cartridges begin to pop, just wake me up, or there may be an accident.”
West again made no reply.
”And we should have Tante Ann waking up, when there would be a greater explosion still. There, good night!”
”Good night.”
Then silence, save that the cry of some prowling creature far out on the veldt sounded wonderfully like the baying of a dog.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
A DARK VISITOR.
An hour must have pa.s.sed away, during which neither of the weary bearers of the despatch moved. Then in a low whisper West spoke.
”Asleep, Ingle?”
”Asleep? No,” was whispered back. ”I can't close my eyes.”
”Neither can I.”
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