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A Dash from Diamond City, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 17. Bad Shillings Always Come Back |
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_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. BAD SHILLINGS ALWAYS COME BACK West stepped to his companion's side, looked out between the rough curtains of the wagon, and saw a group of mounted Boers surrounding a freshly-arrived wagon with its long team of bullocks, the black voorlooper at the head and the driver with his enormous whip on the box. "Well," said West, after a sharp glance, "there's a fresh load of provisions, I suppose! What of it?" "Rub your eyes, lad, and look again." "They don't want rubbing." "Well, of all the fellows! Look there, beyond those mounted men who escorted the wagon in--there where the commandant and the dismounted party are talking together." "Yes, I see where you mean; but what has it to do with us? I don't-- yes, I do. Why, it's Anson!" cried West excitedly. "Anson it is! I began to think you were going blind!" "But how strange! They have taken him prisoner then. Look here; we're not going to have him with us." "It doesn't look as if he is a prisoner," said Ingleborough; "they all seem too friendly. I believe the scoundrel has deserted from the town and come to join the Boers. What has old Norton been about?" "Is it possible?" "Oh, it's possible enough, if old Norton has been to sleep. Rats desert sinking ships!" "Kimberley isn't a sinking ship!" said West indignantly. "I don't know so much about that, lad! There is a very small force ready to defend it; it's a long way from help; and, as we see here, the enemy is swarming down upon it from all directions. You see, it's so far from our forces and so near to the Free State border." "Ah, there he is plainly enough, laughing with the commandant! Look, he clapped him on the shoulder!" "Yes, I give him credit for anything!" said Ingleborough. "I shouldn't wonder if he was in full correspondence with the Boers and is ready to sell us as well as buy diamonds. As likely as not, he has slipped away with his swag so as to escape before the fighting begins. But how Norton can have let him get away is more than I can understand!" "Well, it's plain enough that he's here!" said West; "and I can't help feeling glad that he is not a prisoner, for if he had been put with us it must have come to a quarrel. Look here, seeing what the treacherous thief is, we ought to denounce him to the commandant." "Don't do anything of the kind! What good would it do?" "But he is such a despicable wretch!" "What's that to you?" "Ingleborough!" "Oh yes, I know what you're ready to say; but you've got something else to do besides playing the virtuous part of denouncing Master Anson as a diamond-dealer. Besides, I don't believe the Boers would think any the less of him if they believed you." "They couldn't help believing our evidence!" said West. "Nonsense! It isn't your business!" "It's every honest man's business!" cried West hotly. "Not if he is on Government service with a despatch to deliver in Mafeking," said Ingleborough, with a peculiar look at his companion. "Hah!" cried West; "you are right again! But--oh!" "Oh, what?" "Why, he was present when we volunteered to carry the despatch!" "To be sure, so he was!" cried Ingleborough excitedly. "Then as soon as he knows we have been captured he'll denounce me to the commandant as the bearer of the message, and oh, Ingle, we shall be searched again!" "Yes," was the thoughtful reply; "and you've got it on you. We might change jackets, but that would be no good. Could you rip it out of yours?" "Yes, of course, in a few moments." "Then you'd better." "Not now; it's too late. We must wait for a better opportunity." "But--" "No, no, I tell you," cried West excitedly; "look, he's not a prisoner. The scoundrel has recognised us and is coming here. Why, Ingleborough, he's a traitor--a rebel. No wonder he got through the Boer lines. Look! there can be no doubt about it; he has joined their side. Those men, the Boer leaders, the commandants and field-cornets, cannot know that he is a thief." "But they soon shall!" answered Ingleborough hoarsely. "No, no, keep quiet," whispered West; "he's laughing with them and coming here. Don't say a word; wait! It's my advice now." "If I can!" muttered Ingleborough. "The skunk! He's sending the blood dancing through my veins! He must be denounced, and if he begins to say a word about your volunteering to bear the despatch I'll let him have it hot and strong." "Why, you seem to have completely turned your coat!" said West bitterly. "I have! What we have just been saying has stirred up all my bile. But I wish I could turn your coat too--out of the wagon." "Why not?" said West, as a thought occurred to him, and running to the other end of the vehicle, stripping off his jacket as he did so, he thrust out his head and called to the sentry whose duty it was to guard against any attempt to escape. "What is it?" said the man quietly. "Take my coat and hang it on the rocks yonder," he said. "I've been sleeping in it night after night, and it's all fusty and damp. Out yonder, right in the sun." The request was so simple and reasonable that the man nodded, took the jacket, and was turning to go away. "Don't let anyone meddle with it," said West; "it's my only one, and I don't want a Kaffir to carry it off." "He'd better not try!" said the Boer, with a meaning laugh, and he bore the jacket right away to where the sun was beating hotly upon the rock, where the next minute the garment was spread out. "Talk about me having a ready wit in an emergency!" said Ingleborough merrily; "why, I'm a baby to you, West, my son! There: I'm proud of you." "Oh, but the risk!" whispered the young man. "That precious garment lying carelessly yonder!" "Carelessly? That's just the way to keep it safe. Who'd ever think of examining the coat lying out there?" "The first man who goes near it!" "The first rogue, and he'd only feel in the pockets. But there's no fear: that sentry would fire at any thief who tried to steal! That's safe enough!" "I wish I could think so!" replied West. "The first thing when they come will be to ask me what I have done with my jacket." "Pooh! In that loose, dark flannel shirt they'll never think of it. I thought they'd have been here, though, before now." They had to wait for some little time still, for the Boers had gathered about the new-comer, forming a half-circle, evidently to listen while Anson talked to them earnestly, his gesticulations suggesting to Ingle borough, rightly or wrongly, that he was describing the arrangements for defence made by the British garrison at Kimberley, which he had so lately left; and as he spoke every now and then the listeners nodded, slapped the stocks of their rifles, turned to make remarks to one another, and gave the speaker a hearty cheer. "Oh, you beauty!" growled Ingleborough. "I can't hear a word you say; but I'm as certain as if I were close up that you're telling those chuckle-headed Dutch that all they've got to do is to march straight in and take Kimberley, for they'll find it as easy as kissing their hands." "If he is telling them the weak points it's downright treason," said West bitterly, after a glance out of the wagon in the direction of the rocks on which lay his jacket. "It's stand him up with a firing party, and a sergeant with a revolver to finish the work if it isn't quite done," said Ingleborough. "The cowardly scoundrel: he'll be getting his deserts at last! I say, though, isn't it sickening? A blackguard like that, who doesn't stop at anything to gain his ends!" For Anson had finished speaking and the Boers had closed round him, patting him on the back and pressing forward one after the other to shake his hand, while he smiled at them in his mildest, blandest way. After a few more friendly words the ex-clerk began slouching slowly up, followed by half-a-dozen of the principal men, till he was close to the tail of the prison wagon where West and Ingleborough were seated trying to look perfectly indifferent, but the former with his heart beating heavily and a flush coming hotly into his cheeks, when the Boers stopped short, leaving Anson to speak, listening the while as if they anticipated a little amusement from their new friend the informer hailing the prisoners in the wain. "Hullo!" cried Anson, with one of his most irritating smiles--one full of the triumph over them he enjoyed and the contempt he felt, "hullo! Who'd have thought that the virtuous West and the enthusiastic sham detective Ingleborough would have come out here to join the Boers? But don't tell me. I know: I can see how it is. You've both been bled, and that's let some of the bounce out of you." He stopped for a moment for those he insulted to reply, but as they both sat looking at him in cool contempt he went on jeeringly: "The Boers know what they're about, I see. When a horse has the megrims they bleed him in the ear, and judging that the same plan would do for a donkey they've bled cocky West there, and bull-headed Ingleborough on the skull." West's face grew of a deeper red, and he drew in a long deep breath, for those of the Boers who understood English burst into a hearty laugh at this sally of the renegade's. "Well, I'm glad of it!" continued Anson, taking the Boers' laughter as so much approval. "It was all you wanted, Bully West, and I daresay, now that you've come to your senses, you'll make a decent Boer. There, I'll give you a recommendation for a clerkship, for you do really write a decent hand." "Say thanks," growled Ingleborough, with a sneer which told of his contempt; "he will no doubt have plenty of interest. He has come up to lead the Boer army's band and give lessons on the flute." Anson started as if he had been stung. "Quiet, man, quiet!" whispered West to Ingleborough; but it was in vain. _ |
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