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"No, I don't," said my companion stubbornly. "It ought to be done. Once we were all through, the enemy would take to flight."
"Once we were all through," said the Sergeant, with a grim chuckle; "but that's it. How many would get through? Now, just put it another way, sir. Say there's only six or seven of them out there, and there's one on our side. That's about how it stands as to numbers. Very well; say you lead that charger of yours out. The Boers see what's going to happen directly, and the minute you're up in the saddle they begin to fire at you-the whole seven."
"You said six," cried Denham.
"Six or seven, sir. Well, let it be six. Don't you think it very likely that one out of the six Doppies would manage to hit you?"
Denham frowned and remained silent, while Joeboy sat all of a heap, his arms round his knees, watching the Sergeant, and I saw his ears twitch as if he were trying hard to grasp the whole of the non-com's theory.
"You think not, sir?" continued Briggs. "Well, I don't agree with you. They'd hit you perhaps before you got far; they'd hit you for certain, you or your horse, before you got close up; and let me tell you that the chances would be ever so much worse if we were galloping up to them in line."
"Yes, you're right, Sergeant," said Denham slowly. "It would be murder, and the chief couldn't, in justice to the men, call upon them to charge. But they'd follow us," he added excitedly.
"Follow their officers, sir? Of course they would, and some of 'em would get through."
"Gloriously," cried Denham.
"Well, I suppose some of those fine writers who make history would call it glorious; but I should call it horrible waste of good stuff. It wouldn't do, sir-it wouldn't do, for there'd be nothing to gain by it. If we could make an opening in the enemy's lines and put 'em a bit into disorder, so as to give a chance for another regiment to slip in and rout 'em, it would be splendid; but to do it your way would be just chucking good men's lives away."
"Yes, yes, Sergeant; you're right, and the Colonel's right, and I'm all wrong. I know better; but my head got so knocked about by that renegade Irishman and my fall down that hole that it doesn't work right yet."
"I know, sir," said the Sergeant, nodding his head. "When you talk in that bitter way I know it isn't my brave, clever young officer speaking; and I say to myself, 'Wait a bit, old man; he'll soon come round.'"
"Thank you, Sergeant; thank you," said Denham, holding out his hand, which Briggs grasped, shook warmly, then turned to me to go through the same business; he did so hotly, for my hand felt crushed, and I vainly tried to respond as heartily, while the tears of pain rose in my eyes, but did not dim them so much that I could not see my torturer's eyes were also moist.
"Well, what are you looking at?" he growled. "I say, don't squeeze a man's hand like that. Why, you've made my eyes water, lad. Look, they're quite wet. Phew! You did squeeze."
"It's because he has so much vice in him, Briggs," said Denham, smiling.
"That's it, Mr Denham. Well, we must wait, for there's nothing to be done but send one or two smart fellows to creep through the enemy's ranks in the night, on foot. You can't get hors.e.m.e.n through."
"You mean, send for help from the nearest British force?" said Denham.
"That's it, sir-some one to tell the officer in command that we shall soon be on our last legs here; but if he'll como on and attack them in the rear, we'll be out and at 'em as soon as we hear the shooting; and if we didn't polish off the Doppies then, why, we should deserve to lose."
"Briggs," said Denham warmly, "of course that's the plan. You ought to have been in command of the corps yourself."
"Ah! now your head's getting a bit the better of you again, sir," replied the Sergeant, "or you wouldn't talk like that. What I say's only second-hand. That's the chief's plan."
"Then why doesn't he carry it out?" I said indignantly.
"You hold your tongue," growled the Sergeant. "You're only a recruit yet, and your head's getting the better of you too.-Yes, Mr Denham, that's the Colonel's own plan, and he's tried it every night for the last twelve nights."
"What!" I cried.
"Yes, my lad; called quietly for volunteers, and sent out twelve of our lads; but so far there don't seem to be one that has got through, and the game gets expensive. There, I must go down again now and get to duty. I saw you two coming up while I was going through the exercise, and I'm very glad to see you both looking so much better.-Well, Joe Black," he said as he turned away, "how's Mr Moray's horse?"
"Um? Coat s.h.i.+ne beautiful," said Joeboy.
"And enough to make it, my lad, seeing the way you rub him down."
"Denham," I said that night as we lay wakefully gazing up at the stars, "do you feel any stronger yet?"
"I don't know. I seem to fancy I do. Why?"
"I thought you did because you've been so quiet ever since we had that talk with the Sergeant. I feel stronger."
"Why do you ask?" he said.
"Because I've been thinking that I ought to do that job, and you ought to be on the lookout again, to come to my help if I succeed."
"No," he said quickly; "it's a job for two. I'd go with you."
"But I should take Joeboy."
"Then it's a job for three, Val; we can take our time, and the slower we go perhaps the better. If we get stopped by the Boers, we're wounded and getting away from the fighting."
"Yes, that might do. We do look bad."
"Horribly bad, Val. You look a miserable wreck of a fellow."
"And you, I won't say what," I retorted, a little irritably.
"So much the better. When shall we go-to-night?"
"No. Let's have a good sleep to-night, and talk to Joeboy about it in the morning. To-morrow night as soon as it's dark we'll be off," I said.
"The Colonel won't let us go if we volunteer."
"Of course not. Let's go without leave; but that will look like deserting."
"I don't care what it looks like so long as we can get through and bring help."
"The same here."
"But we ought to steal away to-night," said Denham.
"No; let's have Joeboy. Ha!" I said, with a sigh of relief. "I seem to see my way now, and I shall sleep like a top."
"I'm so relieved, Val, old chap, that I'm half-asleep now. Quite a restful feeling has come over me. Good-night."
"Good-night," I replied; and I have some faint recollection of the rays of a lantern beating down and looking red through my eyelids, and then of feeling a soft hand upon my temples. But the next thing I fully realised was that it was a bright, sunny morning, and that Denham was sitting up in his sack-bed.
"How do you feel?" he cried eagerly.
"Like going off as soon as it's dark."
"So do I," he said. "I'm a deal better now. What's the first thing to do-smuggle some meal to take with us?"