BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 11538, 24 November 1900, Page 3 (Supplement)

BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABBANGEMENT.]

A STORY OF THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. ;

BY HABKY GOLDING. ■■;{'.

CHAPTER XXVI. :. THE FAIL. That memorable Sunday was hardly a day of rest. All day long the Boer shells came pounding into the camp, and occasionally into the town. It was patent to everyone that the heroic exertions of the troops on Friday had been quite ineffectual in checking the advance of the enemy, who were in overwhelming numbers and had the advantage of position. Early in the morning came news of the British victory at Elandslaagte, which considerably heartened the men, worn out as they were with skirmishing and transport work and want of sleep. But later in the day gloom settled down again when it became known that the general's wound was likely to prove mortal. Muriel was too busily employed to pay much heed to gossip, but some words she overheard while hastily swallowing a cup of tea gave her food for thought. "They say the troops are going to fall back on Ladysmith to-night!" Surely that could not be true! What would become of the wounded, of the general, of the piles of stores, of the defenceless townsfolk? Passing back into the ward, she came face to face with Lieutenant King, of the Hussars, boyish as ever, but graver far than when she had last seen him. " Just been up to see the general and give him the news," he confided. "So good of you to take up this work. I was out all this morning with my troop trying to cut off the fugitives from yesterday's affair. Had an awfully narrow squeak. If I'd known you were nursing 'pon my word, I'd' have managed to get wounded somehow. " "Hush!" said Muriel. "These things are too serious to jest about. Just look at these poor fellows." "Ah! it makes you feel bad, doesn't it? But it's nothing to seeing them smashed on tlie field, and expecting every minute to go down yourself. And to think that, after all, we've got to run away and leave them !" "Leave them?" echoed Muriel. "Then is it really true about the retreat?" "You have heard, have you? I ought not reaßy to have told you, because it is to be kept as quiet as possible in case the Boers geV wind of it. There's a place we shall have to pass, I am told, where a mere handful of .them with a single gun could cut off the entire force." "How dreadful!" said Muriel. "But what is to become of the wounded?" "Oh, the Boers are civilised enough to respect the hospital, I think, though some say differently. \ We are advising all the townspeople to go on to Ladysmith; but, God help them! they'll have a rough time in this weather, even if the enemy let them alone. What are your people, I mean the Van Lenneps, going to do?" "I suppose they'll stay on the farm, if it's safe to do so. My brother-in-law is coming here this evening with things for the wounded." "Is he? Very good of him. You take my tip. Miss Hughes, and get away vith him. Things will be rather warm here with the Boers in possession. He hurried off, and Muriel took the first opportunity of consulting the officers under whose orders she was acting. " A few of us are remaining here," he said ; " but, candidly, you can do little good. Now that the first rush is over, and so many graves are, alas, waiting to be filled, we shall be quite able to cope with the work." When Van Lennep came, according to promise, an hour or two later, Muriel met him at the door. "I am coming back with you," she said, simply. "Are you?" He seemed somewhat surprised, and not entirely pleased. "Have you already tired of the part of ministering angel?" " Not at all," she said. " But I want to get back to Evelyn." Remembering Lieutenant King's caution as to the need for secrecy, she was anxious not to reveal the reason for her change of plan. But Van Lennep, who had obtained admission to the town on the sole plea of visiting the hospital, had already heard a rumour of which he only awaited confirmation. " So it is true then?" he asked, keenly. Muriel fenced the question as well as she was able; but it was evident enough that he had formed his own conclusions. They were soon driving homeward through the blinding rain. " I may as well tell you," Van Lennep said with a laugh, " that we have a visitor." "Indeed! Who?" " Oh, you needn't be shy. You have met him before, and I believe he made a rather favourable impression. It is no less a person than General Joubert." " General Joubert?" " Yes. He is favouring our poor house by making it his headquarters for a day or two. You may be sure I protested ; but the Queen, whose devoted servant I am, can hardly expect me to resist an army of twenty thousand men."

Muriel's heart sank as she realised the peril. General Joubert— thousand men—the small British army in full retreat the narrow pass through which they would have to file almost singly. A mere handful of the enemy, Lieutenant King had said, could annihilate or capture the entire force. Worse than all, this despicable relative of hers, the servile tool and paid spy of Kruger, was aware of the retreat, and was driving full speed, with the object of making the news known to Joubert. What was to be done? Dick would be in that ill-fated force, and King, and Bruce, and grumpy Sergeant Murdoch, the only man she had met in Africa who seemed to understand her. They would be shot down like dogs—cui off long before help could reach them — slaughtered remorselessly by a cunning enemy of whose whereabouts they could have only the dimmest notion. Again, what was to be done? The column would doubtless be marching all night, relying on their retreat remaining undiscovered until morning. This would give them a fair start ; but when Van Lennep told his story, Joubert, with his more mobile force, would, of course, contrive to be first at the pass. If only Van Lennep could be prevented from seeing Joubert! He nudged her elbow. "Wake up, girl," he said. "I've been talking to you for the last five minutes, but not a word can I get. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" "No, Jan, I did not." An idea occurred to her. She had only a woman's weak weapons to fight with, but why, with thousands of lives at stake, should she scruple to use them? " Jan," she said, suddenly, and turned her liquid eyes to his, "I am very tired." "Hang it," he cried, "how like the wife you are! As she used tc be, I mean." "You love her, don't you?" She had edged very close to him. "Why, yes, of course." Her head was almost on his shoulder. " And don't you love me? You said yesterday you would like to—" Her lips were within a few inches of his. Her eyes finished the invitation her tongue had commenced. He dropped the reins, flung his arms round her, and kissed her again and again. " My. dear beauty," he said, " I loved you directly I saw you ; but why were you so cold to me? If only the wife were like you now!" She sickened at the thought of her part. It must be played through, however, and the time had come for the second act. With a saucy, alluring laugh, she patted his face, and struggled to get free. Then, when his grip relaxed a moment, she purposely stumbled and fell forward over the shafts. "Woa!" he cried, and had the horses at a standstill in an instant. She lay, face downward, on the muddy road. He brought the lan tern. and. held it over her. " Jan !" she murmured, and saoaned piteously. ... " How on earth did it happen?" he asked. "My poor girl ! Are you much hurt?" " Yes," she replied ; and indeed she had little need to sham.

"Let me lift you gently into the cart. We shall be home in less than an hour."

; He put his strong arms around, her; but she shrieked " No, no! I can't bear ; the jolting would kill me." r •;* •*:"- ■'■;}. ' The rain was pouring harder than ever, and from the hills came an ocasional thunderclap. . "■ Van Lcnnep stamped about in perplexity*. "Let me just put you somewhere out of the rain," he said, "and I'll drive home lik« fury and bring assistance." She affected complaisance, and he lifted her tenderly. With her arms about his neck, and her eyes raised to his, she looked in the half light more grateful than she felt. Wet, dishevelled, and agitated though she was, Van Lennep thought he had never seen her so tempting and so beautiful. Her weakness and helplessness appealed to the better side of his nature as nothing else would have done. On he stumbled through the drenching rain, with no.thought of anything but his frail and lovely burden. She began to moan again. "Put me down. I cannot bear it." " Just a moment longer, my brave darling. Here we are at last." He stopped beneath a huge, overhanging crag, from the sides of which the water dropped as from a gutter. Further in, however, there was a fairly largo dry space, carpeted with dead bushes and straw. " Fortunate thing I happenede to remember this place," he said. " I've taken shelter here more than once. And so, by the way, has someone else; and quite lately too!"Ho stooped and picked up some ashes, then dropped them suddenly. They were quite hot. He made her a soft couch, and then went back and tethered the horses and brought the lantern. " This will be a bit of company for you," he said. " I shan't be gone more than an, hour, or an hour and a-half at the outside." She shivered. The time for the supreme effort had come. She was thankful, as she had never been before, for the gift of beauty. The light helped her. "Jan!" She looked at him with beaming eyes, half imploring, half commanding. " Jan, I can't bear to be left alone in this dreadful place. Whatever shall I do without you?' A sudden flash of lightning lit up the scene. The lantern flickered a second and went out. They rubbed their eyes, wondering if they had been blinded by the glace. A mighty thunderclap followed, and the rock overhead seemed to crack and sway. A tree torn up by the roots came hurtling down the mountain side and fell within a few. feet of them. Jan seemed cowed by the storm. Muriel's hand stole out to his, and they sat together thus for the greater part of an hour without a word. Then he rose. "It's over now," he said. "You'll be all right there I shan't be long." At all hazards he mast be kept. She caught his hand again. " Jan," she pleaded, " don't go. I am so ill. Could you fetch me some water?" He was soon back again. The water nearly choked her. The clouds had passed, the stars were out. It had turned very cold. A few hours more and the dawn would come. " If you were to hold me," she whispered, with chattering teeth, " I think I could walk a little way." She stepped out bravely, but as slowly as possible. When they got down to the cart and the drenched horses, he tried again to put her inside, but she would not hear of it. So, with many womanly artifices, she contrived to keep him by her side all through that fearful night, while miles away to the south the British " column plodded manfully along the miry road, every step bringing them nearer to safety. When eventually Van Lennep arrived and told his story, Joubert laughed to his face. "I had word of it an hour ago," he said. " Had you brought me this news last night, it would have been invaluable. I hope to intercept them even now." But all the world knows that he did Mot. CHAPTER XXVII. THE FLIGHT. Muriel's recovery was singularly rapid. It was certainly remarkable that one who had been so hurt as to be unable to walk should on the evening of the day following her return and Joubert's departure be capable of tossing a child of three, and running from room to room in a mad game of hide-and-seek. Van Lennop stared in amazement when he came in and caught her. "What, downstairs already? No bones broken, that's evident. I can't for the life of me make out how you came to tumble as you did." " It is over now," said Muriel, with dignity, " and I have no wish to talk about it." "Well, that's a nice thing to say, after all I did for you. Talk about gratitude! Why, you have no idea what the delay yesterday morning cost me." " Oh, yes, I have," said Muriel, significantly. Their eyes met. He saw it all. " You hussy!" he cried, so overcome with rage that he could scarcely speak. " You hussy!" He paced the room like a wild beast, and as the full enormity of her offence and the ease with which he had been duped came home to him he gnashed his teeth and shook his fist in her face. " Oh! you shall pay for this, indeed you shall! Laughing at me all the time, were you? No more of your kisses for me, thank you." 'What's that, Jan?" asked Evelyn, coming into the room. " Only this innocent little sister of yours trying to make trouble between man and wife. She wanted to know the other night whether I loved her." " What nonsense are you talking?" " Nonsense! Ask her- whether it's nonsense. Let her deny what I say if she can." "I do deny it," said Muriel. " You are absolutely hateful to me. If I could help it, I would not stay under the same roof with you." " You are quite at liberty to go. Indeed, if you don't go, I shall be'under the necessity of making you. You've brought me nothing but bad luck since the day I met you. You understand, Evelyn," he went on to his wife," " your sister goes at once, —" An idea occurred to him. " No, indeed, she shan't go, unless it is to Paul Koffman or President Kruger. They're both anxious enough to have her, and they're welcome." He strode across the room, and, before Evelyn could interpose, seized Muriel roughly by the arm. "What 'oo doing to my amy?" cried Cyril, catching hold of his father's'knee. Van Lennep looked down at the wee child a moment, then deliberately shook him off, and, as he fell, kicked him. " Brute!" hissed Evelyn, and flew at his throat. He brushed her aside as he would have done a fly, and, seizing Muriel again, half dragged, half pushed her into a cellar beneath the stairs and locked her in. She had not long to wait in the darkness. Van Lennep came back and flung open the door. " Come out and see what you can do with these people," he said. His passion had already cooled, and there was a ring of remorse in his voice. Evelyn had fainted. Cyril still lay on the floor as he had fallen, sobbing as if his tender heart were broken. " I think you had better gOj" Said Muriel, pointing to the dooi. Van Lennep went out like a lamb. It was not. long before Evelyn came round, but the child's was a harder case. He was not bruised, and, indeed, was very little hurt, but the thought that he had been struck pained far more than the actual blow. Even his mother was powerless to comfort him. " My mind is fully made up," said Evelyn. "We will pack a few things and go right away, perhaps to Ladysmith. I can bear this sort of thing for myself and have done so for years, though I little thought to tell you so, but ( I cannot see my dear boy suffer. This is the second time he has been cruel to him." "I quite agree with you as to going," said Muriel, " and the sooner the better. But I don't see how we can get away this evening. already dark, and Jan has probably taken the only horses the Boers left us." They, heard the sound of approaching wheels and waited. The door opened, and Van Lennep appeared, followed by Paul Koffman. "Come on," he said. "This is no place for us. Kruger has heard of your whereabouts, Muriel, and has sent orders for your, immediate arrest. Li spite of all that has. happened, Paul here and I will do our beat; to save you." ,- -".-"^ " But where are wasoj2»r - ,-

"To Ladysmith." *v / ■'">' " But why nob farther away r said Evelyn. "Say to Maritebfirg? Munel will be safer there." "I said to Ladysmith," growled Van Lennep. : . , , , "But what is to b«f ome of the farm ana of all our things?" asked Evelyn, who a few minutes before had been coolly proposing to leave them all. " Don't trouble on that account, Mrs. Van Lennep," said Paul, for the first time joining in the conversation. " I have sufficient influence to see that your property is respected. But you must come at once, unless Miss Hughes is prepared for an uncomfortable time at Pretoria." . Van Lennep himself lifted the child into the cart, stopping to kiss him as he did so. He evidently repented of the evil he had done. But Cyril squirmed, as if he found the kiss as distasteful as the kick. The weather was not quite so bad as it had been, but a good deal of rain had fallen during the day and the roads were very miry. Evelvn and Muriel with the child crouched under the canvas covering; the two men occupied the seat in front. Their route lay round the base of the hills that had been the scene of the recent fighting. From time to time they were stopped and questioned, but in no case did the delay last long. Occasionally the hillside was lit up by a campfire, and they could see the gaunt figures of the Boers as they sat or lounged around it. One party were singing hymns as they passed, and the effect was very weird and solemn. Approaching Ladysmith, they overtook whole families of woe-begone refugees from Dundee and outlying places, tramping stolidly through the mire, destitute of almost everything but the sodden clothes they wore. At the cross-roads near Pepworth Hill, where they arrived in the early morning, some horsemen were stationed. One rode forward as they came up and barred the road. ...... , " Is Mr. Van Lennep here?" he inquired. " Yes." " You are to come with me." Van Lennep alighted and was conducted to a small farmhouse in the vicinity. After mi absence of a-quarter of an hour, he strolled back, deep in conversation with a man whom Muriel had no difficulty, in spite of the semidarkness, in recognising as General Joubert. She even caught a portion of his parting remarks: "—not satisfied. You must send everything by Sunday." They shook hands, and Joubert turned back. "We arc going to walk the rest of the way," said Van Lennep to Evelyn. "It isn't far. I will carry the boy." " It seems very unkind," added. Paul, " but the fact is I'm going to run off with your conveyance. Let me say good-bye." Evelyn took his proffered hand, but Muriel bowed frigidly. Paul muttered something to Van Lennep, and they both laughed. " All right, Paul," said the latter; " she'll change her mind before she's many days older." Paul drove off with a flourish of the hand, and they set out on their weary walk. The road was very thick and sticky and the rain had recommenced ; so that the two women were not sorry when they saw below them i the fair town of Ladysmith, with the British camp in close proximity. Their sufferings, however, were slight indeed compared to those of the poor creatures in whose company they now found themselves, some of whom had been on the road, shelterless and almost foodless, for several days and nights. On the outskirts of the town they were met bv a crowd of good-natured people, who pressed upon them beef tea and other delicacies and offered clothing to those who wanted it. Cyril was at once pounced upon by the ladies, and such a chorus of eackle arose that Van Lennep found himself compelled to turn aside. " What a sweet little dear!" " What lovely eyes he has!" I '" And such curls !" _ j "Poor little man! How good he is with it all!" Cyril gazed at them from the shelter of his shawl with a mild expression of wonder, compounded with pity. So long as it was clearly understood that he did not court their admiration, he was willing, it seemed, to accept it, but it was a pity that women were built that way. " Can you direct us to a house where we can obtain lodgings?" asked Evelyn of one of the foremost ladies. " I am not sure that I can just now," she replied. "You see, every place is so full. But bring that dear little child along to my house and have some breakfast and a good sleep, and we can then see what is best to be done." Van Lennep assented willingly when he found that the invitation came from Mrs. Chadwell, whose husband was in command of the Fusiliers.

Colonel Chadwell himself passed at the moment at the head of a large force. " They are going out to meet Colonel Yule's column from Dundee," explained Mrs. Chadwell.

" Are they really?" asked Van Lennep, •with a queer look at Muriel. Mrs. Chadwell wondered what he meant.

(To be continued.)