"Your blood be on your own head, then!" Van Zwieten turned as though to retire. Suddenly he sprang aside and flung up his hand. The Boers with him instantly had their rifles to their shoulders, and two shots rang out. Harold had just time to throw himself down, but one of his men was shot. The poor fellow flung up his arms with a cry. It had not died away before a volley came from the British soldiers within the farm; but by this time Van Zwieten and his companions had decamped and, expecting the return fire, had thrown themselves down. The larger body of Boers fired; and under cover of this the three scoundrels rolled, and afterwards ran into safety. Harold sprang back through the door, whither the other soldier had preceded him. He picked up the dead man in his arms, and, with bullets pattering about him like rain, carried the body indoors. Then the door was closed and the siege began. As the first shots came ping, ping against the red stone walls, the sun uprose in a blaze of glory, and all the veldt was flooded with golden splendour. CHAPTER XXV BESIEGED The fence round the house was made of stone, and the Boers took advantage of this as cover, whilst some of them sheltered behind the trunks of the red gums. Even then the besieged had the advantage, for they were protected by the walls of the farmhouse, and could shoot without exposing themselves. To Van Zwieten, the disappointment of not having succeeded in shooting Harold in the first dastardly attack was very great. Had their leader been killed, he imagined that the soldiers would have surrendered, quite forgetting that it was not the custom of Englishmen to yield to anything but death. Now, however, there was nothing for it but to take the place before relief could arrive. By all his gods he swore that Brenda should be his. Mrs. Burton herself remained in the sitting-room, revolver in hand. Far from being afraid, the girl, much to her own surprise, was filled with the terrible joy of battle; indeed, she was in the highest spirits. The Boers fired at the windows and wherever they saw a puff of smoke. As the bullets sang, and the smell of powder became stronger, Brenda could hardly contain her excitement. The Boer woman was on her knees in a back room praying with all her might that the accursed _rooineks_ would be taken and killed. Her husband and sons were with the armies of the Republic, and her whole heart was with her countrymen outside. How gladly, had she dared, would she have opened the door to them!