Part 40 (2/2)

Had he but known it, there was no reason for his fears. A minute later all three had dived down into another subterranean chamber, and before Jack had had time to notice that it was neatly carpeted, and provided with chairs, and a table upon which a clean white cloth and gla.s.ses were laid, there was a joyful shout, and Frank Russel had seized him by the hand, while Eileen, looking pale, but more beautiful than ever, had stepped towards him, hesitated, and then, with a radiant blush and a cry which was half-laugh, half-sob, had thrown herself into his arms, and had embraced him as if he were a long-lost brother.

Jack was a bashful lad, and at any other time would have been covered with confusion. But now it was different. Eileen was truly glad to see him, and he returned her kisses with an impetuosity which surprised himself. A few seconds later he was himself again, and being eagerly questioned.

”Tell us how it is you happened to come back to us,” said Frank Russel.

”You said you would, but none of us believed it possible, save perhaps Eileen, who always declared that you would return before the end of the siege.”

”Yes, Father, I felt sure that Jack would fulfil his promise,” Eileen cried.

”There, my lad, you see what a reputation you have,” laughed Frank.

”But get ahead with the yarn, and let us know what has happened to you since we parted.”

Jack readily complied with the request, and then asked how the besiegers had fared.

”Ah! it was all very well at first,” Tom Salter exclaimed, ”but these last few weeks our trials have been awful. Water has not been too good, though there's been plenty of it. But grub's the thing that has been wanting. We've been on short rations for a long while, and if that relief-column does not turn up pretty soon there will be none of us left. We are eating horse and mule now. Vegetables are practically exhausted, and what with that, the impure water, the heat, and living here below-ground, death and disease have been very busy amongst us.

The women and the children--poor little souls!--have suffered terribly, and the little ones have died like flies. But mark my words, Jack; we're far from giving in. There's not a man of us who would listen to surrender, and if we did, the women-folk would soon make us ashamed of ourselves. No. This town's kept out the Boers for a goodish time.

They haven't the pluck to take us, and we haven't the numbers or the strength to beat them off. Starvation and disease are our biggest enemies, and we're going to face them. Seems to me that we're like Ladysmith; we're in a precious tight fix. But we'll get out of it, both of us, and I don't mind betting a pipe of baccy--which, considering we've scarcely an ounce left, is a biggish bet--that B.-P. will stick to Mafeking too till that town is relieved. But, to return to you, my lad.

You have indeed seen as much of this terrible war as anyone, and, as your old friend, I am proud of you. Now tell us what you intend doing with yourself. If you decide to stay here, I need not say how glad we shall all be.”

”Thanks, Tom,” Jack answered, ”but I leave Kimberley to-morrow for Mafeking. Perhaps by the time I return you will have been relieved, but if not, you may be sure shall join you with the relieving force.”

Jack had indeed much work before him. He had been entrusted with a message to the garrison of Kimberley, telling them that the British forces lying on the banks of the Modder river would advance to their aid in one month's time, and meanwhile, having delivered the message, he was to push north to Colonel Baden-Powell, and inform him that, once Kimberley was free, a strong column would march to the help of gallant Mafeking. The news of coming relief, distant though it might be, would be of the greatest service. It would help to hearten a garrison still far from dispirited, and above all it would show them how much longer they would be compelled to rely upon themselves, and therefore induce them to husband their scanty provisions and ammunition.

On the following day Jack was taken to a sand-bag fort, and shown with much pride a long cannon manufactured in the besieged town. It was the work of the engineers of the great De Beers Company, and it had filled a most important post, for its range being very great, it was able to successfully dominate and keep down the fire of the big Creuzot guns which had for so long been throwing sh.e.l.l into the town. As Jack was taken up to it a Kimberley-made sh.e.l.l, bearing the inscription ”With Cecil Rhodes's compliments” was placed in the breech and backed by a charge of explosive. The gun was carefully sighted, there was a thunderous roar, and a minute later a flash, a leaping column of smoke and dust, and a faint answering report told that the missile had done its allotted work inside the sangar which protected the Boer gun. That evening, after a scanty meal consisting of horse-soup, known as ”chevral”, and a piece of beef suspiciously unlike that usually provided, Jack bade his friends good-bye.

”We'll go along and look after your pony,” said Tom Salter, with a knowing wink, a few minutes before his departure. ”Come along, Frank, and you too, Wilfred, while Jack picks up his traps and settles himself.

Now bustle up, boys, or else we shall find that someone has got hold of his mount, and perhaps has started already turning him into sausages.”

All at once sprang to their feet and left the underground chamber, Frank Russel turning round just as he was stepping out, and smiling kindly at Jack and at Eileen. Then with ”So long, my lad, I'll see you later,” he ran up the steps and disappeared from sight.

It was an awkward moment. Standing close to the table, with one hand grasping the back of a chair, was Eileen Russel, her beautiful face lit up by the lamp, and clearly showing the pain which this parting would give her. Close to the door was Jack. St.u.r.dy, handsome, and stalwart, dressed in riding-breeches and gaiters, a khaki jacket, and a wide-brimmed hat, and with his upper lip adorned by a thin line of fair hair, which looked almost white when contrasted with his sunburnt face, he was a young man whom any of the gentle s.e.x might have looked upon with pleasure. But when one knew that behind those smiling eyes there lurked a determined will, and that beneath that coat beat a heart as kindly and as brave as any man possessed, it should not seem wonderful that Eileen had long ago fallen in love with him. He was no namby-pamby lad, given to soft manners and flattery, but a brusque young fellow, kind, considerate, but undoubtedly shy, and a man, moreover, who had already made a good name for himself for bravery. She herself had witnessed his courage. It was he who had rescued her from the Boer ruffians in her father's house, and from that day Jack had been her hero. And now he was to go, to leave her and run still further risks.

It was hard indeed, and her lips trembled at the thought.

”Good-bye, Jack!” she said, tearfully, holding out her hand, but not trusting herself to look at him. ”Good-bye, and do take care of yourself!”

Jack walked across to her, and, taking her hand in his, Pressed it gently and said to her, ”Eileen, look at me. You ask me to take care of myself. Why should I do so? Who would care if anything did happen to me? My mother and brother might, and Wilfred and Tom Salter would, I am sure. But who else? Tell me, Eileen dear, that you would care. Tell me that you love me now as I love you, and have done ever since we first met, and I promise you I will guard my life for your sake alone.”

”Ah, Jack, you know how I love you without asking me!” whispered Eileen, looking now directly into his face, and smiling so sweetly at him that all his fears left him in an instant, and he forgot everything but the fact that Eileen was there and that he loved her and she him.

It was the happiest moment of their lives, and when Jack at last kissed her and strode from the room he and Eileen were engaged to pa.s.s through life together if it pleased G.o.d to spare them during the remainder of the war.

Walking along the trench, Jack turned sharp to the left, and half-way to the point at which his friends were to wait for him, met Frank Russel, leaning against the wall of earth, and thoughtfully staring at the sky.

”Got it over, lad?” the former asked kindly.

”Yes, Frank, I've said good-bye to Eileen,” Jack answered, ”and before we join the others I want to tell you something. Perhaps I ought to have spoken to you before, but the fact that I have had so little time must be my excuse. With your consent Eileen and I will be married some day.”

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