adjacent to the town.  The number of Boer field-guns Mr. Keeley stated to be nine, of the newest type, besides the monster expected from Pretoria.  He also said more expert gunners and better ammunition had arrived.  As to his own position, Mr. Keeley was by no means sure that either his life or his property were safe, but he relied on his influence with his neighbours, which was considerable, and he thought he would be able to keep them quiet and on their farms.

One night, just as my maid was going to bed, she suddenly saw, in the bright moonlight, a tall figure step out of the shadow of the fir-trees.  For an instant a marauding Boer—­a daily bugbear for weeks—­flashed across her mind, but the next moment she recognized Sergeant Matthews from Setlagoli.  He had ridden over post-haste to tell us the Boers were swarming there, and that he and his men had evacuated the barracks.  He also warned us the same commando was coming here on the morrow, and advised that all the cattle on the farm should be driven to a place of safety.  This information did not conduce to a peaceful night, but, anyway, it gave one something to think of besides Mafeking.  I buried a small jewel-case and my despatch-box in the garden, and then we went calmly to bed to await these unwelcome visitors.  Mr. Keeley had fortunately left the day before on a business visit to a neighbouring farmer, for his presence would rather have contributed to our danger than to our safety.  When we awoke all was peaceful, and there was every indication of a piping hot day.  Mrs. Keeley was very calm and sensible, and did not anticipate any rudeness.  We decided to receive the burghers civilly and offer them coffee, trusting that the exodus of all the cattle would not rouse their ire.  Our elaborate preparations were wasted, for the Boers did not come.  The weary hours dragged on, the sun crawled across the steely blue heavens, and finally sank, almost grudgingly, it seemed, into the west, leaving the coast clear for the glorious full moon; the stars came out one by one; the goats and kids came wandering back to the homestead with loud bleatings; and presently everything seemed to sleep—­everything except our strained nerves and aching eyes, which had looked all day for Boers, and above all for news, and had looked in vain.

We still continued to have alarms.  One day we saw a horseman wrapped in a long cloak up to his chin, surmounted by a huge slouch hat, ride into the yard.  Mrs. Keeley exclaimed it was certainly a Boer, and that he had no doubt come to arrest Mr. Keeley.  I was positive the unknown was an Englishman, but she was so shrewd that I really believed her, and kept out of sight as she directed, while she sent her brother to question him.  It turned out that the rider was the same Daily Mail correspondent who had cut his way out of Mafeking in order to send his cables, and that he was now on his way back to the besieged town.  The growth of a two weeks’ beard had given him such an unkempt appearance as to make even sharp Mrs. Keeley mistake him for a Boer.  He had had an interesting if risky ride, which he appeared to have accomplished with energy and dash, if perhaps with some imprudence.[30]