"Yes," I said quietly; then, both shrinking from speaking again, we sat listening to the sounds outside. From time to time one or other of the men on guard looked in to see that we were safe, though for the matter of that we had hardly thought of stirring, as escape seemed to be quite impossible. It was about midday, after a very long silence, when Denham suddenly remarked, "It went against the grain at first, Val; but I won't attempt to fire at that brute. He'll get his deserts one of these days. You're right; we don't want to go out like that. I want us to be able to stand up before the enemy quite calm and steady. We must show them what Englishmen can do." I could not speak, but I gave him a long and steadfast look. The sound of footsteps was again heard, and I was not surprised this time when our friendly Boer brought us two good rations of freshly-roasted mutton and two cakes. These he put down before us without a word, together with a tin of water, and then left us. Denham looked at me, and I looked at him, as--each feeling something akin to shame--we ate the food almost ravenously. Then the afternoon was passed in listening to the busy movements of the Boers; but we never once tried to look out of our strange prison. At sunset, as I looked at the glorious orange colour of the sky, a curious feeling of sadness came over me, for I realised it was the last time I should behold the sun go down. There was such a look of calm beauty everywhere that I could hardly realise the fact that we were surrounded by troop upon troop of armed men ready to deal out fire and destruction at a word; but once more my musing was interrupted by the big Boer. He brought us coffee again, and this time cake and butter. "There," he remarked as he placed all before us, "make much of it, boys, for I shan't see you again." A chill ran through me; but I don't think my countenance changed. "I'm going away with our men to the other side yonder, and the Irish captain's coming back. Good-bye, lads," he said after a pause. "I'm sorry for you both, for I've got two boys just such fellows as you. I'm sorry I caught you, for you're brave fellows even if you are spies." "We are not spies," I replied quietly. I was determined to speak now; I wanted that Boer to look on us as honest and manly. He shook his head. I repeated the words passionately. "Look here," I said; "we have been wounded, and were on the sick-list. We could do no good, so we said we'd try and got through your lines and fetch help." "Ah!" cried the Boer slowly and thoughtfully. "Yes, I see. But you were caught, and I can do nothing, boys. Moriarty will have you shot in the morning when he comes back, and begin to rage because it is not done. Well, life's very short, and we must all die. I'm going to fight to-night, and perhaps I shall start on the long journey too, for your men fight well. God knows best, lads; and there is no fighting yonder-- all is peace."