Prev | Current Page 233 | Next

Allen, Grant, 1848-1899

"Hilda Wade, a Woman with Tenacity of Purpose"

"
"It is a perfect deception," I answered, admiring her instinctive
cleverness even then. "I never so much as noticed you."
"No, nor the Matabele either, for all their sharp eyes. They passed by
without stopping. I clasped the baby hard, and tried to keep it from
crying--if it had cried, all would have been lost; but they passed just
below, and swept on toward Rozenboom's. I lay still for a while, not
daring to look out. Then I raised myself warily, and tried to listen.
Just at that moment, I heard a horse's hoofs ring out once more. I
couldn't tell, of course, whether it was YOU returning, or one of the
Matabele, left behind by the others. So I crouched again.... Thank God,
you are safe, Hubert!"
All this took a moment to say, or was less said than hinted. "Now, what
must we do?" I cried. "Bolt back again to Salisbury?"
"It is the only thing possible--if my machine is unhurt. They may have
taken it... or ridden over and broken it."
We went down to the spot, and picked it up where it lay, half-concealed
among the brittle, dry scrub of milk-bushes. I examined the bearings
carefully; though there were hoof-marks close by, it had received no
hurt.


Pages:
221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245