at any rate been no hostilities to-day, but from Captain Lambton’s Battery on Junction Hill, where the naval 4.7-inch quick-firing gun is being mounted, we have by the aid of the signalman’s powerful telescope watched a significant Boer movement going on for hours.  We can see them among the scrubby trees between Lombard’s Kop and Umbulwaana (or Bulwaan as it is more generally called), and hurrying off behind that hill along the road that leads southwards.  That road cuts the railway not more than six or seven miles out, and their movement threatens our line of communications that way, unless we can manage to check it by judicious use of cavalry and mounted troops.  The flight of townsfolk southward continues.  They do not even trouble about luggage now, but lock their doors and clear off.  Half the houses are empty, and many shops closed.

It was early shown that the enemy had not undertaken the war in a half-hearted manner.  He let no possible opportunity escape to better his position; and in the choice of means he was not inclined to risk his reputation for “slimness.”  On this point Mr. Pearse has a good deal to say in his next letter:—­

November 2.—­For two whole days after the battle of Lombard’s Kop there was absolute cessation of hostilities, and this lull the Boers turned to account in a manner very characteristic.  There can be hardly any doubt that we might have taken advantage of it also to safeguard our line of communications by posting a force where it might have checkmated one of the enemy’s obvious moves.  Anything would have been better than the inaction, which simply allowed the Boers to mature their own plans and put them into execution without risk of interference from us.  That might almost have been foreseen when General Joubert on 31st October hit upon a characteristic plan for finding out what was the exact state of affairs in Ladysmith, and we, with a delightful naivete, suspecting no guile, seem to have played into his hands.  It will be remembered that the most painful incident of “Black” or “Mournful Monday” was the surrender of all but a company or two of the Gloucesters and Royal Irish Fusiliers, which with a mountain battery had been detached to turn the enemy’s flanks, with consequences so humiliating and disastrous to us.  Under pretence of treating the wounded from this column with great consideration, Joubert sent them into camp here, taking their parole as a guarantee that they would not carry arms again during this campaign.  With the ambulance waggon was an escort of twenty Boers, all wearing the Red Cross badge of neutrality.  Their instructions were to demand an exchange of wounded, and on the plea of being responsible for the proper care of their own men, they claimed to be admitted within our lines.  Such a preposterous request would not have been listened to for a moment by some generals, but Sir George White, being anxious apparently to propitiate an enemy whose