THE RAID ON HARMONY
It was the peacefullest, decentest raid I ever heard of, and it would
be difficult to think of anything with a termination more tame and
commonplace.
But we have not got there yet.
The events which led up to it must be got over first as briefly as
possible, and then we go on to what was called a formal declaration of
war between the inmates of the Military Camp and the two principal
actors at Harmony.
After the van Warmelos had discovered on December 20th, through the
enemy's rank stupidity, that they had been found out, a regular game
of hide-and-seek began to be played in and around their beautiful
garden.
The curious thing about this game was that it was only carried on
under cover of darkness and intense silence, a silence which could
almost be felt, and which became so uncanny as time went on that the
women found it quite insupportable and had no peace by night or by day
until the day on which, a month later, the enemy took the initiative
and made what may be called an attack in front. There was only one
noisy actor in the game, which was played for four solid weeks before
the crash came, and as many after, and that was Carlo, but, although
his feelings found relief in constant growlings and furious barkings,
I do believe even his nerves suffered under the constant strain, for
he became more and more irritable and restless as time went on.
That dog gave a lot of trouble in those days and was a source of great
anxiety, as my reader will see presently.
The fruit season was at its height. The garden, heavily laden with the
burden of luscious fruits and blooming flowers, was a scene of beauty
and riotous luxury impossible to describe; and as the different fruit
trees bloomed and bore their rich harvest in rapid succession, each
after its kind--apricots, figs, pears, plums, apples, peaches, and,
last but not least, the noble vine with its great bunches of purple
and white--Hansie and her mother revelled in the wealth of Nature's
extravagance from morn till eve.
Mrs. van Warmelo, an energetic and tireless gardener, spent all her
time amongst the fruit, while indoors the task of putting up in jars
for winter use fell mainly on Hansie's shoulders.
Nothing was allowed to run to waste, and that year was always
remembered as an exceptionally fine fruit season.
It was nothing for Mrs. van Warmelo to have 100 lb. of grapes cut
before breakfast and have them conveyed to the early market, and even
then the vines bore no trace of having been robbed or tampered with.
The soldiers, too, got their share, and the sergeant-major's small
basket was often filled--for were they not on the best of terms with
one another?
But when the shades of night fell over the land, and silence settled
on the birds and beasts and flowers, the sense of careless freedom and
security deserted our heroines entirely.
Unseen eyes watched them from behind the leaves, and they knew that
the very trees under which they sat had ears, straining to catch up
their every conversation.
The Military Police--unknown to the women, as they thought--were
guarding them and their property from intruders, and this was known by
Carlo's incessant growlings and his furious, sudden fits of barking
whenever he came upon some midnight prowler hidden under the trees.
I am sure the good dog never understood Hansie's apathy on this point.
After all he did to warn her of foul play, to have his efforts
rewarded with a scolding or a careless "Do be quiet, Carlo. The kitty
is only catching moths," seemed unjust and quite unlike his mistress's
usual ready sympathy.
In time he got used to finding strangers in the privacy of his domain
and only showed his dissatisfaction with an occasional low growl or a
vicious snarl.
Perhaps "Gentleman Jim" was not so bad after all, or perhaps he was
only stupid, because a few days after the flight of our friends he
came to Mrs. van Warmelo with the information, given with an amused
smile and more drawl than usual, that "the officer had promised him
plenty money" if he ever caught a Boer on the premises or in the
garden, and that in future a strict watch would be held over the
property and an extra vigilance preserved whenever the dog barked.
What more proof could be wanted after that? Now they knew exactly how
the land lay, and in their hearts they thanked their simple servant
and still more simple foe, for the confirmation of their suspicions.
As the weeks went by and the time for the Captain's next visit drew
near, Mrs. van Warmelo again and again urged the necessity of putting
up the danger-signal (a small block of wood, which was kept ready with
a nail through it, lying hidden behind the post), only to be met with
an obstinate refusal from her daughter.
"How can you be so reckless and foolhardy, Hansie?" her mother would
exclaim. "We know that the men may come in any night, and we know that
the house and grounds are being watched, and yet you want me to let
our friends run right into the trap, without lifting a finger to save
them! It would be an unpardonable thing, and I do believe you are only
longing to have the excitement of harbouring spies again!"
Hansie laughed.
"Perhaps that is it! But think of the disappointment of the men to be
turned back at our very doors after having come so far through untold
dangers! Depend upon it they will not come in again for nothing. They
went through too much last time, and there will be work of some
importance for us all to do if they come in again, you may be sure of
that. No, dear mother, let us risk it, I beg of you. We are still in
the house, and Naudé is no chicken. He will reach us in spite of
guards and fences, and----"
"Be followed right up to the house and be taken here like a rat in a
trap," Mrs. van Warmelo continued gloomily.
"I am not so sure," Hansie exclaimed, as cheerfully as her sinking
heart allowed, when this horrible picture rose before her.
"You know what our experience has been of English vigilance and
English sagacity; now, if they had some of Carlo's intelligence we
would have some reason to be anxious."
The danger-signal was not put up, but that things would have ended
exactly as Mrs. van Warmelo predicted I now have not a shadow of
doubt.
The spies would have glided into the house in the false security
occasioned by the absence of the danger-signal, they would have been
watched and followed to the very doors by the hidden foe, the house
would have been surrounded and stormed by armed men, and a fierce, an
unspeakably horrible encounter would have ended in death and
destruction--_if they had come_. But they were prevented on commando
from keeping their appointment that month--and at the very time when
they expected to be safely housed under Harmony's hospitable roof, the
place was surrounded, an entry forced and every corner of the house
searched for spies.
It happened "like so," and we must now turn our attention for a moment
to a matter of small importance in order to understand why Hansie was
from home at a critical time, and how she missed the keen enjoyment of
being present at the "raid."
For some weeks the advisability of leaving home on a pleasure trip had
been discussed. While the moon was on the wane their friends from
commando would not be likely to pay them a visit, but Mrs. van
Warmelo, who never had much inclination to leave her little paradise,
persuaded Hansie to go to Johannesburg for a few days alone to a dear
young friend, newly wed, who had repeatedly begged her to come.
They hoped that such an attitude of innocent pleasure-making on their
part would avert some of the suspicion which rested on their heads and
cause a part, at least, of the surveillance to be withdrawn from
Harmony.
Hansie hoped to be back home before the appearance of the new moon,
the time appointed for Naudé's next visit, and it was red-tape,
nothing but red-tape, through which she was undone.
So many difficulties were placed in the way of her obtaining the
necessary permits that by the time she got away she should have been
on her return journey.
Let us see what her diary says.
"January 10th, Friday.
"My poor old diary! I begin to foresee that it is going to die a
natural death, simply because I am tired of recording lies and
rumours [this was the black-and-white diary, kept on purpose to
mislead the enemy, should it fall into their hands].
"I am now busy preparing for a little trip to Johannesburg, but
oh dear! the difficulty one has in getting permits!
"The English have never been so strict before!
"Major Hoskins (who could have helped me without further
reference had he wished) sent me to the Commissioner of Police,
who asked me to produce a note of recommendation from my 'ward
officer' in B. Ward.
"My 'ward officer' refused to give me a permit without a
medical certificate that I required a change of air.
"I told him shortly that I was going for pleasure and that I
would appeal to General Maxwell if he could not assist me. He
said 'that made all the difference!' (what did he mean?) and
asked me for the name and address of the people with whom I
would be staying in Johannesburg, so I gave him Pauline's box
number.
"No, that was not sufficient, he must have the name of the
street and the number of the house.
"'I do not remember the number, but I shall go home to look it
up and come back at once.'
"'It will--er--be more convenient if you bring it to-morrow,' he
said."
And Hansie understood that he was gaining time.
After all the fuss that had been made, she was not surprised next day
when the Commissioner of Police asked her, very politely, while
closely inspecting the "note of recommendation," to call for her
permits on Monday (this was Thursday), as there would be some delay in
having them "approved" by the other officials.
This was again done to gain time while the authorities were putting
their heads together, trying to find out "what the dickens" she could
want in Johannesburg.
Hansie knew this well enough, although she filled her diary with
lamentations and wonderings.
"Will you be all right alone, mother, at a time like this?" Hansie
asked, as, with her permits at last in her possession, she hugged her
mother in affectionate farewell.
"Oh yes, I am well guarded, as you know," Mrs. van Warmelo answered,
laughing; "there is plenty of time, and you will be back before
anything can happen."
Hansie looked doubtful. Was her mother play-acting? Did she mind being
left, and was she only eager to have her daughter out of danger's way?
Or did she intend putting up the danger-signal, after all?
You see, Hansie was getting so used to plotting and scheming that she
could not help turning her newly acquired detective propensities on
her nearest and dearest when occasion offered, and she even misdoubted
the behaviour of her mother, tried as she had been, and never found
wanting, in many a crisis in the past.
"You will wire for me, won't you?" she asked suspiciously.
"Of course, of course--but there will be nothing to wire about, I am
quite sure."
With a sigh and many anxious forebodings, Hansie drove to the station
on her way to her "pleasure trip."
She was met in the Golden City, now more like a Dead City, by loving
friends and a magnificent St. Bernard dog, Nero, who soon made her
feel at home, although they could not altogether banish the cares,
dimly guessed at by them, with which she was oppressed.
The most reassuring news from home continued to reach her until one
morning, on the sixth day after her arrival, a brief postcard from her
mother informed her in a few bald words that Harmony had been searched
on "Sunday morning the 19th inst."
A few hours later Hansie was in the train, speeding, with remorse
tugging at her heart, to her mother's side.
It was something of a disappointment to her, on arriving at Harmony,
to find everything exactly as she had left it.
Carlo greeted her with his old extravagant demonstrations of affection
and delight, and when she looked searchingly into her mother's face
she was met with a beaming smile. There was no trace of the ordeal she
had faced alone, and Hansie's anxious heart gave a throb of relief.
She was soon in full possession of the details of the adventure, and
it appeared that the "raid" had been made in the early hours of the
19th (Jan.), Sunday morning.
It had been raining heavily all night, and the torrents were still
coming down drenchingly when Mrs. van Warmelo was aroused by a knock
at her bedroom window and "Gentleman Jim's" voice, with all the drawl
gone, calling out anxiously, "Missis, come, the police want you!"
Mrs. van Warmelo dressed hurriedly, and on opening the front door was
met by an officer, who informed her that he had been ordered by the
Commissioner of Police to search her house.
Armed soldiers were standing about, guarding the different entrances.
Mrs. van Warmelo led the way, and the officer went through the house
with her alone, glancing under beds, opening wardrobes and moving
screens in his search "for men," as he said in reply to her
questions.
"I am surprised that you should have been sent to search my house for
_men_," she said, with righteous indignation.
"I was surprised to see _your_ name on the black list, Mrs. van
Warmelo," he answered.
She watched him in puzzled silence.
Evidently he knew her, or her name. Quite evidently he was no
Englishman--only a South African could pronounce her name like that.
When they reached the passage leading to the kitchen the officer
suddenly started at the sight of Flippie's form lying curled up in
deep sleep. He bent over him, pulled his blanket down cautiously, and
said below his breath, "Oh, a boy!"
The house having been thoroughly searched, he turned to Mrs. van
Warmelo and, courteously thanking her for having allowed him to do so,
asked permission to go through the out-buildings, which was instantly
granted. There was no one, of course, and the military, if they had
expected to make any sensational discoveries that morning, were
grievously disappointed.
* * * * *
"Well, I am glad it is over, mamma," Hansie said when the story came
to an end.
"It is better to have the house searched _in vain_, than not to have
it searched at all, when one is on the black list. Perhaps the
surveillance on Harmony will now be removed, at least to some extent,
and the danger to Captain Naudé, when he comes in again, considerably
lessened."
That this was the case we shall see in our next chapter.