Niching themselves in the hollows ofthe rocks or behind the mountain ridges, they opened a fire from alldirections on the occupants of the hill, obliging these to keep closebehind the cover of the rocks as the only mode of escaping the storm ofmusketry that continued to be poured upon them. No attempt, however,was made to dislodge them, and it was obvious that, if they retainedtheir position on the crest of the hill, the Boer camp must be brokenup, leaving the way open for the British troops to enter the Transvaal.

  But the English had been once more deceived by the skilful manoeuvringof their enemies. Under cover of a tall cliff which interposed betweenthem and Amajuba hill, the Boer leaders were determining their plan ofoperations.

  "I am sure one of the paths is practicable," Vander Heyden was saying."It is on the opposite side to that by which the English made their wayto the top, and I think it most likely that they know nothing of it. Itis completely sheltered from their fire until you are close to the top,and there is a hollow near that where a number of men may be massed.Our adversaries, with their usual contempt for their enemies, haveomitted to intrench themselves or fortify their position. There wouldprobably not be more than half a dozen men keeping guard at the point inquestion. A rush of a dozen or twenty would force the way in, and thenthe others would follow. As there is no shelter or means of escapeexcept down the steep sides of the hill, they must all surrender or bekilled."

  "Do you yourself know the way up the path, Vander Heyden?" asked theBoer general.

  "Yes," answered Henryk; "I have twice been up to the top that way tomake an examination of the English camp."

  "Then I think you are the man to lead the assault. What say you?"

  "I desire nothing better," returned Vander Heyden, the dark light, whichhad become habitual with him at seasons of danger, flashing in his eyes.

  "Good. Who is there prepared to follow you?"

  There was no lack of volunteers; and Vander Heyden's only difficultyconsisted in his unwillingness to reject any. Presently the number wasmade up. Orders were given to the sharpshooters in ambush to pour theirfire more hotly on every crevice of the rocks above, so as to engage asmuch as possible the attention of the garrison.

  Then Vander Heyden, rifle in hand, crept cautiously and silently up therocky ladder, pausing continually to allow those behind him to approachclosely to him, until the hollow place, of which he had spoken, wasreached, and a dozen of his most trusted followers assembled in it.Then the word was given. The foremost of the party rushed round thecorner of the rock, poured in a close fire, and pressed on to force thepassage. For the moment they succeeded, but the next a shout wasraised, and a bayonet charge met the assailants, bearing them back andalmost forcing them down the rocky descent. But more of the Dutchmenhad now come on the scene. A second volley cleared the way, and theassailants rushed in in ever-increasing numbers. Presently the wholeplateau had become a battlefield, and the English, outnumbered and borneback by the overwhelming mass of Boers, were either shot down, or madetheir escape by the steep mountain paths, followed by their victoriousenemies, who stabbed and shot them down without mercy. If the guns fromthe camp had not opened their fire and checked the pursuit, it isprobable that scarcely any of the British soldiers who had climbed thoseheights on the previous evening would ever have descended them again,unless as corpses carried to interment.

  About the centre of the plateau a group of Boers were gathered round anEnglish officer, who had been struck by a bullet which apparently hadinstantly killed him. Vander Heyden directed them to take off theleather helmet which partially concealed his features.

  "It is he!" he exclaimed, as his order was obeyed. "That is the Englishgeneral; that is Sir George Colley."

  He had scarcely uttered the words when a stray bullet struck him in thebreast, and he fell to the ground beside his prostrate enemy. Hiscompanions raised him in their arms and earned him down the hill to aroom in an adjoining farmhouse, where his wound was examined by asurgeon. The latter shook his head after a brief inspection. Thebullet had not touched either heart or lungs; but the internalhaemorrhage could not be stopped, and life could not be long protracted.Vander Heyden himself was aware of his condition. He made no otherrequest than that a flag of truce might be sent to the English lines,asking permission for the Reverend George Rivers, who was serving, hewas informed, as a chaplain in the camp, to visit him on his deathbed.The request was granted; and in an hour's time after the conclusion ofthe fight Rivers entered the chamber where he was lying.

  Vander Heyden raised himself as well as he was able to greet him, anddesired that the room might be cleared.

  "George," he said when this had been done, "I am glad you have come.There is no time to lose, for I feel that death is very near. Youremember our conversation about my sister many months ago near Intombe."

  "It is not likely that I should forget it," answered George.

  "I told you two things--first, that my father had forbidden me to giveher in marriage to an Englishman; and secondly, that if she did marryone, she would forfeit the whole of her inheritance."

  "That is what you said."

  "And I said no more than the fact. But I thought even then, and I amnow more fully persuaded of it, that my father was mistaken in theresolution to which he came. The English had been harsh and unjust tous. But every Englishman is not harsh and unjust; and if my sister haschosen--as in my heart I believe she has--a generous and upright man, itis hard that she should be denied her wish merely because he was anEnglishman."

  He paused a moment to recover breath, and then went on.

  "Men alter strangely. A twelvemonth ago I thought it impossible I couldever feel as I do now. And if I had married, and had children to followin my steps, I do not think I could have so altered. But that hope diedout and could never be revived, and Annchen's future was all I had tocare for. She does not know my change of feeling. When I took leave ofher last night, I felt assured that I was parting from her for the lasttime, though I could not tell her so; but this letter will convey to hermy dying wishes. I have drawn up a fresh will, by which everything isleft to her and to you. Give me your hand."

  They exchanged a cordial grasp. "Now, Rivers," he continued, "we willspeak no more of this. But you must remain with me to the end."

  There is no need to dwell on what followed. Vander Heyden lingered foran hour, and then passed away quietly, without pain, remaining consciousto the last. When all was over, George gave the order, as his friendhad desired him to do, for the conveyance of the body to theburying-ground at Utrecht, where the remains of the hapless Lisa vanCourtlandt had been deposited. He himself accompanied the corpse aschief mourner, and saw the funeral rites performed. Then he proceededto Newcastle, and sought an interview with Annchen, with whom his motherand Thyrza were now staying. They had gone over, by his request, toconvey to her the melancholy tidings, and had remained at her earnestentreaty to comfort her.

  She did indeed feel unutterably desolate. Her brother and Frank Moritzhad been her only near relatives, and of both these she had beenbereaved; and the man who, she felt, might have been nearer and dearerthan any, was hopelessly separated from her by Henryk's decree. Hiswishes had always been law to her while he lived; and, now that he hadbeen taken from her for ever, her only satisfaction in life would be tofulfil his pleasure. When the message was brought to her that Georgedesired an interview, she was at first unwilling to grant it. It waspossible that he might renew his suit, considering all obstacles totheir union as being now removed; and if so, their meeting would beneedlessly painful. It was only when Thyrza told her that her brotherwas the bearer of a letter, which Henryk had sent her from his dyingbed, that she consented to receive him.

  She was sitting near the window when he entered. Her black dressrendered the dazzling fairness of her complexion more remarkable. Eventhe look of unutterable sadness seemed to enhance her beauty. He wentslowly up to her, took her hand and pressed it to his lips, and thenwithout speaking, placed the lette
r in her hands. Her tears fell fastover it as she opened it, and it seemed as if they must have preventedher from deciphering its contents; for she twice read it through withoutappearing to understand its purport. At last a faint flush on her cheekand a strange light in her eye told him that she had realised themeaning of her brother's words. She sat for a few minutes with her eyesfixed on the ground, and then looked up into her lover's face, as ifseeking there a confirmation of the wondrous joy that had broken thussuddenly upon her. His smile seemed to satisfy her. She rose and threwherself into his arms.

  "Oh, George," she exclaimed, "is it wicked, at a time of sorrow likethis, to feel so happy?"

  "It is what he wished," answered Rivers. "It was the thought whichcomforted him at the last."

  A few days afterwards, Annchen joined