I've felt it in the hatmosphere, so to speak, before now, sir." "And what does it feel like ?" inquired Jack Meredith, lightly arranging his watch-chain.
But Joseph did not answer.

He stepped backwards into the tent and brought two rifles.

There was no need of answer; for this came in the sound of many voices, the clang and clatter of varied arms.
"Here they come, sir," said the soldier-servant--respectful, mindful of his place even at this moment.
Jack Meredith merely sat down behind the little table where his breakfast stood untouched.

He leant his elbow on the table and watched the approach of the disorderly band of blacks.

Some ran, some hung back, but all were armed.
In front walked a small, truculent-looking man with broad shoulders and an aggressive head.
He planted himself before Meredith, and turning, with a wave of the hand, to indicate his followers, said in English: "These men--these friends of me--say they are tired of you.