This Wyndham had already begun to do. But the ground was rough and bad, and the mules were anything but fresh. The fleet-footed natives could easily keep pace with them, if not outstrip them. These could be seen from time to time, flitting through the bushes, their obvious intent being to get ahead if possible and rush the whole outfit at some point in the road where the conditions would be more favourable to themselves. Lucy Fullerton had uttered a little cry of alarm and then went deadly pale. Her sister, on the other hand, was absolutely cool, and watched every movement of the foe with a deepening interest. Wyndham, his face now stern and set, was giving all his attention to his driving. Fullerton was cursing his own idiocy at having left his revolver behind. "It was foolish of you, Dick," said Clare tranquilly. "But--I brought it for you." "You? You brought it?" "Yes," and diving down among some bundles under the seat, as calmly as though she were looking for a mere pocket-handkerchief, she pulled up a small travelling-bag, producing thence two revolvers and two boxes of cartridges. "Clare, you're a jewel of a girl," pronounced the astonished Fullerton, as he took the weapon she handed him. "But what's the other? Wyndham's?" "No. It's mine," calmly loading it. "Yours? That's no lady's toy anyhow. Why where on earth did you get it?" "Mr Lamont gave it me--when he came to see us to say good-bye." "Lamont gave it you! Good Lord! But--why?" "He knew there was going to be a rising, and said it might come in useful." "He knew--Well, I think he might have given some of us the benefit of his knowledge." "He did. He gave it to some, who hardly believed him, and to me--who did. I passed on the benefit of it to you, but you wouldn't profit by it until too late. So here we are." "Do you mean to tell me, Clare, that the real reason you wanted me to take you into Buluwayo was because Lamont told you there was going to be a rising?" Clare nodded. "That's right, Dick. If I had told you the real reason you'd only have pronounced it one of `Lamont's scares'--just as the others did--and refused to move. As it is you've put off the said move too long." "Good Lord! You take my breath away!" "I'll take it away still more directly," she said tranquilly. "What do you think of Mr Lamont having saved the whole of Gandela from being massacred on the day of the race meeting?" "Oh come, now, that's a little too fat!" answered Fullerton, yet not so incredulously as he would have answered, say that morning. "Well, he did." And then she told the whole story. "I'm hanged if it doesn't sound probable," said Wyndham. "Heavens! if only they'd rushed us that day. Oh, it won't bear thinking about."