"TO YOUR TENTS, O ISRAEL!"
At Mafeking our heroes received their final instructions, and were
metamorphosed into three large-boned, amazonian young women, more
awe-inspiring than beautiful to look upon. They were costumed in a
homely fashion, as they were acting the character of domestic servants.
Under this disguise they passed scrutiny and were not suspected by their
fellow-passengers. Tall women are by no means a novelty nowadays, nor
are awkward and masculine women, since bicycles and feminine athletics
are the vogue. Indeed, to find a gentle, soft-voiced, graceful, and
retiring lady traveller is now the exception rather than the rule.
Therefore, when our heroes forgot their acting and took big leaps in and
out of carriage doors, or crossed their legs and their arms, it did not
strike any one as peculiar behaviour. Women of this generation do all
that men were at one time only privileged to do. They raise their
dresses and plant their feet on the cushioned seats opposite them, and
do all sorts of things that were at one time supposed to be most
indelicate. Our heroes, being well-bred, gentlemanly young fellows,
conducted themselves a great deal more decorously than the majority of
nineteenth-century ladies would have behaved. Indeed, their native
politeness made them appear singularly superior servant-girls.
They left their treasures with Dr Jim to bank for them at Mafeking, and
went on together as far as Bloemfontein, in the Orange Free State.
They had changed trains at De Aar, and again at Tuur Berg for the Boer
line.
At Bloemfontein the first of their partings took place, where Fred went
off.
Ned and Clarence felt a bit melancholy when they said good-bye to their
faithful and long-tried chum. They reckoned that some fighting had to
be done before they were re-united, if ever they were. If it could have
been managed they would have liked to do the fighting in company, yet as
it could not be so, they bore the parting bravely.
As the pair crossed the border at Viljoen's Drift, and saw the train
boarded by the hateful Boers, they felt the old rage again possess them,
which had so long been almost forgotten. These arrogant, uncouth
bullies, who treated male and female with the same rough brutality, made
them clench their teeth and draw their brows together until they looked
very forbidding females indeed.
But the officials were wonderfully pleasant towards them, considering
their unfriendly demeanour. They admired muscle and bone like theirs,
and said audibly that they would be fine vrows some day, when they got
fatter. They were passed on much more easily than they expected. Once
Ned had to correct an impertinent German, who tried to make himself
agreeable in the fashion some cads have with unprotected females. Ned
promptly knocked the ruffian down and kicked him under the seat. Then
he leaned back calmly and gazed out of the window, until he suddenly
recollected that he should have called the guard instead. He did this
at once as soon as he remembered his sex, and had the man removed in a
very dejected and dilapidated condition.
This German did not recover his presence of mind until he reached
Johannesburg. Then, when he saw Ned on the platform, he ran
panic-stricken out of the station, vowing that these Englishwomen were
demons, and that it would be a long time before he wasted his attentions
on another of this ungrateful nation.
"Good-bye, Clara," said Ned, as he stood with his bonnet-box and bag on
the platform. "Take care of yourself, dear, and don't go falling in
love with a Boer."
"Don't be afraid, Edwina darling. I'll go for the cruel wretches if
they try to persecute me, as you did with that nasty German."
"Dort's all right, meme leetle pigeon," shouted a bearded burgher,
showing his big face near. "You just wait till you are asked, then you
vil be von fine old woman."
"Don't mind the rude fellow, Clara," cried Ned, warningly. But Clarence
was too quick; with a back-handed slap he sent the Boer staggering
backwards a dozen paces.
"Couldn't hold my hand back, Eddy dear. Englishwomen aren't used to
these compliments, you know."
"Be careful," said Ned. "Remember our positions." The burgher took his
blow, however, without resentment. Several of his countrymen were
laughing at him, therefore he slunk away quietly.
"Good-bye, and trusting we may meet soon."
Ned watched the train start with watering eyes, then he stalked out of
the station and straight to the Three Ace Club.
As he passed through the streets he noticed that things appeared much
quieter than when he was there before. The police did not interfere so
much with the citizens, nor were the armed Boers so aggressive. It
seemed as if a more tolerant spirit was ruling their behaviour.
Knowing what he did, Ned was not at all deceived by these false signs of
amiability. When the Boer is meditating some extra treachery he is
always the most amiable. It is only part of his crafty and deceitful
nature. He likes to lull his victim into a trusting condition, so that
he may have him at a disadvantage. He likes to play like a cat with his
prey, and surprise him suddenly.
Ned knew that Kruger had given orders for this extra tolerance, so that
the citizens might be lulled into security, and that his thunderbolt
might fall the more startlingly upon their devoted heads. This was only
in keeping with his malicious, torture-loving, and savage nature. These
smiling, hard-faced men who looked so grimly indulgent on the unarmed
citizens whom they were deluding, were inwardly thinking gloatingly on
the coming massacre.
He saw them clinking glasses in the bars with their unconscious victims,
and laughing loudly at their jokes, while their revolvers stuck out
behind--the revolvers that they intended using shortly on the jokers.
Knowing what he did, Ned hated those double-faced wretches with more
intensity. They were less tolerable in their sullen and insulting state
than in their surly humour.
Once he almost betrayed himself by the start he gave. He had passed
Stephanus Groblaar with his broken nose, standing with some exchange men
at the door of a hotel.
Stephanus saw him also, and winked leeringly at him as he passed.
Stephanus was a modern city-bred Boer, therefore of the advanced school,
who laughed at religion and morality. With these added vices he
retained all the other evil instincts of his race, so that he was
utterly graceless.
Ned passed him swiftly with eyes cast down. He glanced over his
shoulder after he had got a little distance, and gave a sigh of relief,
when he saw Stephanus leering on a couple of ladies who were passing.
The supposed servant had only attracted him momentarily. He had failed
to recognise his nose-breaker.
Ned felt savagely glad that this vindictive foe was in the city. He
trusted he would stay in Johannesburg till the night of the tenth, for
he wanted to have it out with him.
When he reached the club it was almost empty, but the manager recognised
him and took him upstairs to a bedroom. Here he had a wash, and some
lunch brought to him. Then he lay down and rested for a few hours.
He was wakened by some one shaking him, and when he opened his eyes he
saw his old friend, Philip Martin, by the bedside. Ned started up and
shook hands.
"Well, my fine young woman, so you have got back."
Ned laughed, and told his message, which the other listened to with
sparkling eyes.
"We have been ready and waiting for this message for months past. So
Kruger is going to make the grand move at last? He will get a mighty
surprise, instead of giving us one, as he intends."
He rubbed his hands gleefully.
"I for one am heart-sick of all this long suspense and inaction. I
shall welcome the hour with the greatest delight. Only there will be
some bloodletting before the affair is settled."
"I don't mind that," answered Ned. "Before I arrived in Johannesburg I
did not know what hatred or revenge meant. It was Kruger and his Boers
who planted these passions in my heart on my first visit. During my
absence the plants did not thrive much. Now that I have returned,
however, the Transvaal air seems to have revived them suddenly."
"Yes," said Philip Martin. "Hatred, envy, deceit, revenge, greed, and
gracelessness are plants that grow well and quickly in the South African
Republican garden. They are fine Dutch bulbs, and take kindly to the
Transvaal air. Since you have given me the news of this crowning scheme
of perfidy on the part of the crafty and senseless tyrant Kruger, I also
feel as if I don't mind shedding some gore if I can only help to put him
in his proper place--the felon's cell. Lately he has been playing one
of his favourite games with us, which to those in the `know' means
`spoof' eventually. He has been acting the part of `Codlin' as the only
real friend of the Uitlander--the kindly old humourist of Pretoria, the
simple-minded farmer chief."
"Yes; he tried to make traitors and spies of us in that way," remarked
Ned.
"Just so. He has been talking about conciliation and the blessedness of
unity amongst brethren. Every Sunday of late he has occupied the Dopper
pulpit, and his orations have been noted for their breadth and mildness.
The police wink at small offenders where before they pounced upon them
rigidly. A general tide of indulgence and generosity appears to be
setting in towards us in every direction. There are rumours that the
franchise and full burgher rights will be proclaimed on the tenth. This
the Volksraad have already formally passed, with certain conditions
which are to be told us by the president himself on that momentous day."
"Yes," replied Ned, grimly; "the conditions you might have suspected all
along, knowing Kruger's tactics of old. He seems to be an animal of
instinct and habit. Like the dog, he always turns round the regulation
number of times. He never varies in his movements, and never changes."
"You are right, Romer; he does not. He will humour us up to the last
moment, and then give us our option--to become traitor burghers and
rebels to our queen, or else be shot down ruthlessly. There will be no
mistake about the shooting if we decline, therefore we must take time by
the forelock, and anticipate the kindly intentions of Oom Paul. What
are you going to do meanwhile?"
"I shall stick to my present disguise, and live most of my time in the
kitchen," continued Ned. "I can also do any little messages you may
want about the city."
"Yes, that will be best. I'll tell you how you may also serve us, if
you can play your part safely."
"In what way?"
"Get a sweetheart in the barracks if you can, and we may, with your
help, be able to surprise them on the eventful night, without having to
dynamite them. It may be a great saving of life on both sides."
"It is a low game you ask me to play, Philip; but, as the Jesuits say,
`the end justifies the means.' I'll try it on."
For the next few days all went quietly in Johannesburg. Those outsiders
who were not in the secret were happy that their trouble had blown over,
and that better times were now approaching. The three-ace club-men went
about their business, and pretended to be satisfied, as the ignorant
were. The armed Boers behaved like brothers.
The past sins of Oom Paul appeared to be condoned. Every one praised
him now as the kindly old patriarch of Pretoria, who was at present hard
at work growing a pair of angel's wings.
Ned had succeeded in fascinating a big German Zarp, and spent a portion
of each day in his company. Ned took the Teuton in preference to a
Dutchman, as he had not any repugnance to this nation, yet it was a
sacrifice to be amiable even to him.
On the ninth of the month he had two letters, one from Fred, who called
himself Fanny, and the other from Clarence. They had arranged on terms
by which they would be understood by each other, that might be read
without suspicion by any one.