"Is this story true?"
"Eweh, Inkose, it is true."
Hume took the lantern and went over to the bush, beyond which he found the tracks of a cart.
Returning, he released the Kaffir, and told him to prepare food for himself. He then related to Webster what he had just heard.
Webster was for tying Klaas to the wheel all night, but Hume opposed this.
They s.n.a.t.c.hed a few hours" needful sleep, and were roused before daybreak by Klaas, whom they had left seated by the fire.
"Ah!" said Webster, as his eye fell upon the Kaffir, "I confess I expected he would have slipped off in the night, and his presence here is hopeful."
"A Gaika, like us, is a stranger in this country. We have talked to him in his language, and he will stick to us like a burr. We must leave the waggon to its own fate, I suppose?"
"Ay, I could not stay behind. Nor could you."
"We must trust the Kaffir, then. Klaas!"
"Baas!"
"Bring the oxen near the waggon, and keep watch while we follow the cart."
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
FOUND!
They were about to start, when the Kaffir suddenly gave vent to an exclamation, at the same time inclining his head in a listening att.i.tude.
"What is it?" asked Webster.
"Hush!" muttered Hume.
The Kaffir slipped away into the bush on the left, and Hume, with a word to Webster, ran off to the right.
A moment later Webster heard the gallop of a horse, and rushed forward with his rifle c.o.c.ked, expecting he knew not what. Rapidly the hoof-beats struck sharper through the air, there was a crash of branches, a cry from the Kaffir, and a white horse cleared a bush and drew up. His rider lurched forward, and would have fallen had not Webster leapt forward in time. It was a slight boyish form he took in his arms, but as he was stooping with his burden to the ground he saw the face.
"Laura--Miss Anstrade!" he cried, trembling as he laid her head on his knee.
"Have you stopped the horse?" cried Hume, as he darted up.
Webster held up a hand warningly, and Hume went down on his knees, and the two of them, with white faces, gazed at the insensible figure.
Her short riding-habit was torn to shreds, her hands were scratched and bleeding, and across her white forehead there was an angry red weal.
Her hat was gone, and the heavy plaits of her black hair had broken loose from their bindings.
Presently, as they leant over her, half-paralysed by conflicting emotions of joy, fear, and surprise, she opened her eyes, struggled to her feet, and sprang to the side of the horse.
"Laura!" they cried.
"Ah, heavens, it is you. I thought--" She looked round wildly, then fainted dead away.
"Look at her hands, how they have been torn," and Hume gently pressed his lips to the fingers he held.
"Some water!" cried Webster.
"Yes, you run for the water;" and Hume pa.s.sed his arm under the graceful head.
Webster looked fiercely across at his friend. "I can support her; you go for the water."
"Klaas," cried Hume, "water, quick!"
Klaas, who had been standing near, hurried up with a tin of water, which both young men attempted to take, the result being that the contents were spilled.
"It appears you wish to quarrel," said Hume.
"No, sir; but it is my right to support her."
"You are the first to break the contract which you yourself suggested,"
said Hume bitterly; then quickly rising, he went to the waggon, to return with a drop of brandy. A little water was scattered on the white brow, and when presently the dark eyes opened again, the cup was held to her lips.
She rose up slowly, and looked long at them.
"Ah," she said, "you must not leave me again."
"Take my arm to the waggon," said Hume tenderly.
"Let me carry you," whispered Webster as gently.
She looked at her wounded hands and smiled, but when she saw the forlorn condition of her dress her feminine instincts rose in alarm. "Gracious heavens," she murmured, "what a fright!" and vanished into the shelter of the waggon tent without support from either.
The two friends regarded each other with cold looks, then fell apart without a word.
"Baas," said Klaas in Kaffir, "here come more horses."
Hume picked up his double express and ran forward into the bush, while Webster, with gloomy and lowering brow, mounted guard at the waggon.
"Halt!" rang out Hume"s voice.
"Verdomde," came a startled reply, "what say you?"
"Drop that gun, drop it." There was the dull sound of the gun falling.
"Now, come on slowly."
Horse and rider advanced into the open s.p.a.ce, and Piet Coetzee sat in the saddle, casting uneasy glances about him.
"Dismount," said Hume sternly.