As all the latest events to the south were communicated to the garrison as fast as they were made known to the chief, the news of the capture of Spion Kop and the disappointing retirement therefrom was published in general orders. Blank faces turned from each other, that none should see the reflection of his own despondency. Intense had been the rapture of the anxious inhabitants when they had heard the far-away booming of the British guns, seen the splashing of British lyddite, watched the great spouts of smoke that spoke of tremendous activity and their possible salvation. Now their dismay was more than proportionate. After all their agony--silence. Silence, so far as they were concerned. Mystery, doubt, and agonising suspense--and now the news, the woeful news, that the second splendid effort to break through the imprisoning Boer girdle had failed! Still the garrison was resolved to hold on to the last, preferring death by starvation or disease rather than surrender. The malodorous surroundings were borne with patience, the diminution of the supply of medicines, watched with pathetic resignation. Nevertheless an untold weariness crept over the unhappy sufferers, who spent their days huddled underground and dreading to expose themselves in the open lest they should be caught by a shell or "sniped" at by some Boer more enterprising than the rest. How they longed, how they prayed for the great hour! They believed in Buller; they knew he would come, they said to themselves. But when, O when? And echo answered--When? LORD ROBERTS AT THE CAPE On the 10th of January Lord Roberts arrived. He was received by General Sir F. Forestier Walker on behalf of Sir Alfred Milner. All the ships in port were dressed, and there was immense excitement at the prospect of better things. Many recalled to mind the occasion of the last coming of the great little man, when, on the eve of a campaign to retrieve Majuba, he found that the British Government, unknown to him, had arranged peace on contemptible terms. At that time it was said he broke his sword in indignation at the betrayal to which he had been subjected, and vowed never again to serve under a British Government. Be this as it may--he had now come at the earnest call of his country, and all felt that his coming meant a turn in the wheel of fortune. After his arrival things began gradually to unfold themselves, and the promise of decisive movement was in the air.