"No," he panted: "the Commandant. Send for him here!"

"My good lad, he is so busy, he would not come! Let me cut out the message and send it to him."

"No," said West firmly; "I will not part from it till he comes."

"But really—"

"Tell him a wounded messenger from Mafeking has a letter for him, and he will come."

West was right: the magic word Mafeking brought the Commandant to his bedside; and as soon as he came up he stopped short and made what little blood poor West had left flush to his face, for he cried:

"Hullo! Why, it is our illicit-diamond-dealer! I thought we were never to see you again!"

"It is not true!" cried West. "The man who denounced me lied!"

"Then you have been to Mafeking?"

"Yes, sir: Mr Ingleborough and I."

"And brought back a despatch?"

"Yes, sir: here it is!"

"Where?" said the Commandant, glancing down at the stained tunic on the bed.

"Open it now, sir," said West to the doctor, who took out his knife again, slit the cloth, and drew out the big letter, terribly soaked with its bearer's blood.

"Bravo! Brave messenger!" cried the Commandant, grasping West's hand before tearing open the packet and finding enough of the despatch unstained to allow him to decipher the principal part of the text. "Hah!" he cried, when he had finished, "on the whole good news; but," he continued, glancing at the date, "you have been a long time coming."

"Have I, sir? We lost no time!"

"The poor fellow has been lying here for a fortnight, sir," said the surgeon.

"A fortnight ago? Why, that was the day when the reconnoitring party returned with the captured sheep and cattle. Yes, I remember now: they had a brush with the Boers up the river. Of course, yes: they were attracted by the firing, and saved two young Englishmen. You are one of them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well done, then! Our raiding party did good work, though they did have a desperate fight afterwards to get through the Boer lines. Getting better?"

"Yes, sir," said West, with a sigh of relief: "now that I have got my despatch safely into your hands!"

"But what about your bad character?"

"It was a false accusation, sir!" cried West indignantly. "The man who denounced me was the criminal himself."

"Well, you have done your duty so truly that I believe you in preference to him."

"But I shall be able to fully clear myself, sir, soon, for this man is a prisoner now with the cavalry brigade. Has that come into the town yet, sir, with the prisoners, guns, and the convoy they captured?"

"Hah!" cried the Commandant: "this is news indeed! Has the brigade captured all you say?"

"Yes, sir," said West, and he told all that had taken place up to the time of he and Ingleborough being cut off and chased by the Boers.

"We knew nothing of this!" said the Commandant. "We are prisoners ourselves; but your news gives us hope of a speedy release, for the General is not one to let the grass grow under his feet."

"He is not, sir!" said West. "Then you shall bring me and the man who accused me face to face."

"The sooner the better, my lad!" said the Commandant warmly. "How soon will he be up, doctor?"

"Within a fortnight, I hope, sir!" was the reply.

"Then goodbye for the present, my lad!" said the Commandant. "Your long-delayed despatch will send a thrill of hope through all here in Kimberley, for it breathes nothing but determination to hold the Boers at bay."

"May I say one word more, sir?" said West excitedly.

"What do you think, doctor?"

"He has said enough, sir, and if he talks much more we shall have the fever back. Well, perhaps he'll fret if he does not get something off his mind."

"What is it, then?" said the Commandant.

"I had a brave comrade to ride with the despatch, sir."

"To be sure, yes, I remember. What about him? Not killed, I hope?"

"No, sir, but badly wounded, and lying somewhere here."

"Poor fellow! I must see him. There must be promotion for you both."

"If you would see him, sir, and speak to him as you have spoken to me," said West, with the weak tears rising to his eyes.

"Of course, yes! There, shake hands, my lad: you have done splendidly! Don't worry about the diamond charge! I can feel that it was a contemptible lie! Now, doctor, take me to your other patient."

"Ha!" sighed West, nestling back on his pillow with a calm look of content in his eyes, which closed directly after for a sleep that lasted ten hours at the least.



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

ANSON IN A HOLE—AND SOMETHING ELSE.

"Don't worry about the diamond charge!" said the Commandant; but Oliver West did, day after day, though he got better fast and was soon able to go and sit with Ingleborough, who slowly recovered, as a man does who has had nearly all the life-blood drained from his body. West worried, and Ingle borough did too; for those were anxious days, those in Kimberley, which brought strong men low, even near to despair, while the wounded, weak, and sick were often ready to think that relief would never come.

West and Ingleborough recovered from their wounds only gradually, to suffer with the rest, returning to duty when really unfit, while the deadly work went on, the men braving the shell and shot with more spirit when they knew that the women and children were safe within the mines.

Then came the day of relief, and with it the feeling that a long night of misery and despair had ended; and that night West and Ingleborough grasped hands, the former's pale sallow face lighting up with something of his old look, as he exclaimed: "Now, if the General would only march in with his prisoners, and bring Anson before us face to face!"

Everything, the proverb says, comes to the man who waits, and certainly it was so here, for the day did come when the General rode in at the head of his dashing cavalry brigade, and, what was more, with the prisoners, and with them Anson, very much reduced in weight.

There was something more than mere eagerness to be freed from an accusation which led the two young men down to the General's camp next morning to wait until they could see him in their turn.

On their way they sought out the sergeant who had had Anson under his charge, and he grinned at them in recognition.

"You were about right, gentlemen," he said, "about that prisoner."

"What about him?" said West eagerly.

"About his being an Englishman. I've seen a lot of him along with the other prisoners, and he's as English as can be. Piet Retif! Why, he's got James Anson written on the tails of his shirts—that is, what he's got left."

"But look here, sergeant," said Ingleborough anxiously: "what about his wagon?"

"Oh, that's all right, sir! Loaded up."

"Has he had the run of it?"

"Not he, sir. He wanted to, but I only let him get some under-toggery, shirts and such. I couldn't refuse him that!"

"Did he go alone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Quite?"

"Well, not quite, sir, because I was with him."

"Hah!" sighed Ingleborough, in a tone full of relief.

"I've stuck to him, by the General's orders, ever since. Like a leech, sir," said the sergeant, in conclusion—"like a leech."

The cavalry General welcomed the young men warmly, and, as it happened, the same four officers were with him, ready to join in the greeting.

"I never expected to see you two fellows again," said one of them, laughing. "I was out with my men when you were cut off. Why, you must have had a very narrow escape!"

"Of course," said the General, laughing; "but that has been the fashion: we have all had narrow escapes. Well, you got safely in with your despatch?"

"We got in with our despatch, sir!" said West rather grimly, "but not safely;" and he briefly told their adventures.

"Bravo! Well done!" was chorussed.

"Why, you two will have to join the regulars!" said the General. "We can't have men like you for volunteers! Think it over, and, if you decide to join, come to me, and I'll see what I can do! Now then, don't want to be rude; but I have no time for ordinary visitors. You sent word in that you wanted to see me on important business. What is it?"

"You speak," said Ingleborough, and West began.

"We want to know about the prisoner taken that day, sir—the man who said he was a Boer."

"I remember," cried the General. "I have him safe."

"When is he to be tried, sir?"

"Can't say; he will be handed over to the authorities who see to such things now. You said he was a renegade who had joined the Boers."

"Yes, sir, after being charged with illicit-diamond-dealing with the Kaffirs working at the great Kimberley mines; and we want you to give orders for the wagon he had with him to be searched."

"His wagon searched?" cried the General. "How am I to know which wagon he had?"

"The sergeant knows where it is, sir," replied West; "and we could recognise it directly."

"But why do you want it searched—what for?"

"For diamonds, sir, that he brought away from Kimberley, and which you have brought back."

"H'm! Diamonds, eh? This sounds interesting!" said the General. "You think he has some there?"

"We both believe he has, sir, and of great value."

"What do you say, gentlemen?"

"Oh, let's have the search made by all means!" cried one of the officers, laughing. "It may mean salvage and loot, and all sorts of good things!"

"Very well! Take the matter up, and I'll see the search made! Let the prisoner be present, of course. I'll be ready in half-an-hour."

Punctually to the minute the General was ready, and he walked down through the temporary camp to where the wagon stood among scores of others, while the sergeant and four men stood by with Anson, who looked shifty and uncomfortable, wincing suddenly as he caught sight of West and Ingleborough, and then gazing sharply about at the mounted Lancers on duty as patrols, for the prisoners were many, and there had been several attempts at escape.

The General looked at him sharply, and then at the wagon.

"Is that your wagon, prisoner?"

"It was till you took it!" replied the young man surlily.

"What do you say, sergeant?"

"Yes, sir," answered the sergeant, with military brevity. "I marked it with my knife the day that it was taken."

As he spoke he laid a finger upon a couple of notches he had made in the wood-work.

"Now then," said the General, "before I have the wagon examined—"

Anson's eyes twitched.

"Repeat the charge you made against this man!" continued the General.

Ingleborough now firmly repeated almost word for word what he had before said, and charged Anson with being an illicit-diamond-dealer.

"And upon what do you base this charge?" said the General sternly.

"The personal knowledge of myself and friend here," replied Ingleborough.

"All lies, General," cried Anson excitedly. "Those two are charging me with what they did themselves. They were illicit-diamond-dealers, and when they were found out they tried to plant the crime on me. All lies!"

"Crime? Yes," said the General thoughtfully. "Yes; I suppose it is one of the greatest crimes that a man can commit in Kimberley. All lies, eh! Well, sir, not all, for it is evident from your speech that you are an Englishman and not a Boer. I judge too that you were in the company's office at Kimberley."

"Oh yes, General," said Anson; "that is true, and through the plotting of these two men I was turned out of my situation."

"And then deserted to the Boers?"

"No, General. I was obliged to do something for a living, so I bought a wagon to go in for trade; but I was captured by the Boers and they have kept me a prisoner ever since. Then you fought the Boers and beat them, and took me prisoner again. That's why I'm here."

"An Englishman—prisoner to your own countrymen? Why did you not declare what you were? What did he say his name was, sergeant?"

"Said he was a Boer and his name was Piet Retif, sir," said the sergeant, with a look of disgust at Anson's fat face.

"Yes; that looks black against him!" said the General. "He is taken with the Boers, while those who charge him are men of trust, being chosen to bear despatches."

"Because they were not found out, sir!" cried Anson. "There never was a worse pair of cheats and tricksters."

"Perhaps not!" said the General. "So you were a prisoner with the Boers, my man?"

"Yes, General, and very glad to see the British troops come up and gain such a success."

"You said that you was a dealer in mealies and corn," growled the sergeant.

"Well, a man must do something for his living."

"Of course," said the General. "Well, you look simple and innocent enough."

"I am, sir, really!" cried Anson.

"And never engaged in illicit-diamond-dealing?"

"Me, sir? Never," cried Anson virtuously. "I was only charged by those two to save themselves! Then they got on, and I was trampled down."

"And joined the Boers out of revenge, eh?"

"No, sir: it was all fate and accident."

"Well, fate is very unkind to us sometimes, my man," said the General. "That is your wagon and span of oxen, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you have prospered by your change. What did you say you traded in?"

"Provender, sir—mealies and corn."

"And you?" cried the General, turning sharply to West. "What do you think he deals in?"

"I believe he deals in diamonds, sir," replied West.

"Why?" said the General.

"For one reason, sir, because my friend, in whom I have perfect faith, caught him in the act."

"Yes: anything more?"

"I know him to be a cowardly liar, sir, and—"

"Oh!" groaned Anson. "I never heard anything like it."

"Go on," said the General.

"Lastly, sir, because he set it about that I had volunteered to carry a despatch to Mafeking so as to get away with the diamonds I had smuggled."

"And did you?" said the General.

"I got away to Mafeking with the despatch!" said West, smiling.

"And where are the diamonds in question?"

"My friend and I believe that they are in James Anson's wagon," said West bitterly, for he felt bitter then against the traitor, whose proceedings he recalled when they were prisoners. Later on he felt a little sorry for his words.

"Oh!" cried Anson, throwing up his hands and looking appealingly at the General, who fixed him with his eyes.

"Well," he said; "what have you to say to this?"

"It's abominable, sir—it's atrocious—it's cruel!"

"Then you have no smuggled diamonds with you?"

"No, sir," cried Anson excitedly. "They charged me once before, and had my wagon searched by the police."

"And did the police find any?"

"No, sir, not one! It was a blind, sir, so that they might carry off theirs by throwing the police off the scent. I'll be bound to say they have a lot with them now!"

"Well, I doubt that!" said the General, smiling. "Where would they carry them?"

"Oh, sir, you don't know what artful tricks are played!" said Anson eagerly.

"Oh, I've heard of a few since I came to South Africa; but I don't think it likely that a couple of despatch-riders would carry many illicit-diamonds with them!"

"Have the butts of their revolvers examined, sir, and the stuffing of their saddles," cried Anson. "I have heard of the butts of rifles being bored to hold a lot."

"So have I!" said the General; "but I fancy a wagon would be more likely to supply hiding-places!"

"Oh yes, sir, but the police inspector searched my wagon, and did not find any."

"You would have no objection, of course, being perfectly innocent," said the General, "to some of my men searching your wagon?"

"Of course, I shouldn't like it, sir, but—"

"But? Ah, you mean conquest gives me the right of search?"

"It's like casting a slur on a man's character, sir."

"But it makes it shine out the brighter when you are proved to be innocent! Here, sergeant, this case begins to be interesting! Search our friend's wagon."

Anson tried to master a wince, and merely shrugged his shoulders, standing with his hands in his pockets while the sergeant and his men commenced their task, examining every part of the wagon while the officers waited patiently, lighting up and smoking their cigars until the sergeant came back to make his report.

"Well, what have you found?"

"Nothing but these, sir," replied the sergeant stiffly. "Tucked away behind the doubled tilt they were, sir," and the man held out a revolver, Anson's sword-stick, and his little mahogany flute-case.

"Humph! No diamonds, sergeant?"

"Not so much as a pin or ring, sir," replied the man.

"Are these yours, Mr Piet Retif?" said the General.

"The walking-stick and the flute-case are mine," said Anson coolly. "The pistol must be the driver's. I had a rifle; but your men took that away."

"Nothing else?" said the General.

"Nothing else, sir. We looked everywhere," replied the sergeant, and he offered his superior the objects he had brought; but the General shrugged his shoulders and looked at his officers, who each examined the revolver, stick, and flute-case, and passed them back to the sergeant.

"Well, gentlemen," said the General, turning to West and Ingleborough: "you hear. What have you to say now?"

"The prisoner owned to these things being his!" said Ingleborough.

"No, I didn't!" said Anson sharply. "Revolver isn't mine."

"Only lent to you, perhaps," said Ingleborough, taking the weapon from the sergeant's hands and cocking it, making Anson wince.

"I'm not going to fire," said Ingleborough, smiling contemptuously, as he held the pistol in both hands with his thumb-nails together on the top of the butt. Then, pressing the cock sidewise, the butt opened from end to end upon a concealed hinge, showing that it was perfectly hollowed out and that half-a-dozen large diamonds lay within, closely packed in cotton wool.

Anson turned clay-coloured.

"'Tisn't mine!" he cried. "I know nothing about it!"

"Well, never mind," said the General; "it is ours now. An interesting bit of loot, gentlemen!"

There was a murmur of voices at this, and as soon as the pistol had been handed round the butt was closed with a sharp snap, and the General turned to Ingleborough again.

"Well, sir," he said: "is that all?"

"I am not sure," replied Ingleborough; "but I am suspicious about that stick."

"You think it is hollowed out?"

"Yes, sir," said Ingleborough, and, taking it in his hands, he drew it apart, dragging into the light from its sheath a handsome Damascened three-edged blade, which he held against the cane, proving that the blade went right down to the ferrule at the end.

"What about the handle?" said one of the officers eagerly, as Ingleborough thrust back the blade into its cane sheath.

"That is what I suspect!" said Ingleborough, and he carefully examined the silver-gilt tip, but twisted and turned it in vain, for there seemed to be no way of opening it, till all at once he tried to twist the sheath portion beneath the double ring which divided hilt from sheath, when the handle turned for about half-an-inch and was then drawn off, disclosing a hollow shell lining which held another deposit of diamonds packed in cotton wool.

"More loot, gentlemen!" said the General, smiling. "What comes next?"

"The flute," cried two voices together, and Ingleborough opened the case, showing the three joints fitting tightly in the velvet-lined compartments.

"A silent musical instrument!" said the General, smiling.

"Can anyone play the overture to the Crown Diamonds?" said one of the aides-de-camp merrily.

"This is the overture!" said another, and Ingleborough took out two joints in turn, perfectly empty, fitted them together, and then took out the top joint, to put that in its proper position, before raising the instrument to his lips and running up and down the gamut.

"Nothing there," said the General.

But Ingleborough lowered the flute, held it in both hands, and drew it apart at the tuning-slide, held it sidewise, and then unscrewed the top plug, showing an opening, out of which he shook a magnificent gem of great size and perfect make.

"Bravo!" cried the General excitedly. And then: "I'm afraid, Mr Dealer in mealies and corn, the judgment will go dead against you. Have you done?" he continued, turning to Ingleborough.

"Not quite, sir!" replied the latter. "Come, West, don't let me get all the credit for unmasking the scoundrel."

"Look here," cried Anson viciously, "I protest against being called a scoundrel! Those are my private savings, invested in what were bought honestly."

"I think, sir, you had better keep your tongue silent until we have quite done!" said the General.

Then, turning to the two young men, he bade them go on.

"Come, West," said Ingleborough, "you suspect where our friend who is no scoundrel has hidden more diamonds, do you not?"

"Well, yes," said West, rather unwillingly, for the whole business disgusted him.

"Speak out, then! I am sure it is in the same place as I think he has more plunder; but you shall have your turn now."

"No, no; go on," said West warmly.

"If you suspect that there is some place unsearched," said the General sternly, "speak out, sir."

"Then I believe, sir," said West, "that if the water-cask that is slung under the wagon is opened you will find a number of diamonds hidden there!"

There was a burst of excitement at this, everyone present speaking save the sergeant, who did a bit of pantomime which meant: "Of course!" for he bent down and gave his leg a sounding slap.

"Yes," said Ingleborough; "that is where I meant."

"Why, I thought o' that once," cried the sergeant, "and then I says to myself: 'That's too stoopid a place; no one would hide diamonds where they're sure to be found'; but I crept underneath on my hands and knees and gave it a swing so as to make the water wash about inside. That satisfied me, and I came away."

"You have hit the mark, Mr West," said the General, smiling. "There is no doubt about it! Look at the prisoner's face!"

Anson tried hard to pull it back into its normal shape, for he had been gazing at West with a malignant look that meant anything from a rifle-shot to a stab with a bayonet.

"Now, sergeant, see if you can do better this time!" cried the General, as Anson's mouth shut with a click.

Then he stood fast with his brow wrinkled and his hands clenched, waiting expectantly with the rest of those present until the cask was set free from the raw-hide reins by which it was slung under the hind part of the wagon, and then rolled out, giving forth the regular hollow sound of a barrel half-full of liquid.

"Only sounds like water!" muttered the sergeant, and he set it running, to soak into the dry ground, and draining out as much as he could, before giving an order to the nearest man to take hold of one end while he raised the other, both men looking stern and severe in the extreme. Then together they gave the cask a lusty shake, and the sound which followed was that of some shovels full of pebbles rattling in the inside.

The next minute they had set the cask down on end with a grin of delight, which was taken up by their fellows, while a satisfied smile dawned upon the faces of the aides-de-camp.

"Here, stop that fellow!" shouted one of the officers, for, in spite of his heaviness, Anson proved that he could be active enough upon occasion, and this was one; for, seizing his opportunity, he dived under the wagon, and by the time the soldiers had run round to the other side he was off, dodging in and out among the wagons in the mad idea that he could escape; but before he had gone a hundred yards he came out suddenly upon a mounted man, and the next instant he went sprawling over a lance-shaft, and the steel-shod butt end was planted upon his back to keep him from rising.

"Pity you should have taken all that trouble!" said the sergeant, as he came panting up, followed by his men, "because we might want you to tell us all a bit about the value of them stones! Now then, up with you. Let him get up, Lancer! And see here, my lad, if you cut and run again—being a prisoner caught in the act of trying to escape—my men have orders to fire, and you're so broad and fat that they are sure to bring you down first shot."

Anson glared at the men's rifles and fixed bayonets, but he said nothing, marching back between the men to the spot where he had left the General and his old fellow-clerks; but the barrel had been carried to a place of safety, and those who had witnessed his discomfiture had gone.

Half-an-hour later he had been marched out of the camp, and was under lock and key in the military prison, a sentry being posted at the door.



CHAPTER FORTY.

WINDING UP.

The adventures of Oliver West and his friend Ingleborough were pretty well at an end; and it was time, for between wounds and exposure they had been brought to a state which necessitated plenty of rest and comforts to enable them to quite recover themselves. Of feasting, praising, and complimenting they had their fill—more than enough, West said, for he declared that the hues of returning health which were coming into his cheeks were only blushes caused by the way in which people talked about his bravery, dash, "and all that stuff."

Ingleborough took it all more contentedly.

"I don't mind their praising us!" he said. "Frankly, I rather like it; and, without bragging, I think we did earn it all!"

"Well, we did run some risks!" said West; "and of course it's much nicer for our friends to know that we escaped and are alive and well."

"And a jolly deal nicer for us too. But what do you say to joining the army? After what the General said I think we might both get commissions."

"Perhaps," said West; "but it's doubtful now that everything is settling down. I feel disposed to invest my share of the loot and to stop on with the company after the splendid offer they have made me. Hadn't you better do the same?"

"I'm nearly half disposed to, Noll," replied Ingleborough; "but more than half inclined to go into the police altogether. I've had an invitation, and I think the life would suit me better than settling down to a desk. Yes, this settles it! I shall go on to Norton and say 'Yes.'"

"Well, I'm sorry," said West; "but at the same time I'm glad, for you'll make a splendid officer!"

"Here, hold hard! I don't want to hear you begin puffing me. By the way, you heard the news about Fatty Anson?"

"No, not a word!" cried West excitedly.

"Promoted."

"Nonsense! What a shame!"

"It's a fact, my lad! He has just received his commission in Mrs Partington's Brigade."

"What!" cried West. "Oh, this is some bit of chaff!"

"Oh no!" said Ingleborough, laughing. "It's a fact. The regiment employed by the old lady to help her keep out the Atlantic with a mop."

"Bah! You mean that he has been sentenced with other convicts to help to build the Cape breakwater?"

"Good boy! Quite right! For five years!" replied Ingleborough.

"Well," said West thoughtfully, "I suppose he deserves it, and I hope he will become a better fellow when he has served his time."

THE END