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35. '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.

Fred wrote--

"Dear Edwina,--

"When I reached my situation I found that my place was already filled up, and that I was not wanted. I intend, therefore, to come to Johannesburg, and be near you and Clara. I'd like to see the shops of Pretoria, as I hear they are grand affairs. Crowds are going from here, so I expect there will be a city full presently.

"Your loving cousin,--

"Fanny."

Between the lines Ned read--

"The Orange Free State will join with the Transvaal in the coming struggle. The Uitlanders here are all prepared, and have efficient leaders. Volunteers are coming in to help you in great numbers. I am also coming to take a hand."

Clarence wrote--

"Dear Edwina,--

"This is such a pretty place, and I am most comfortable in my situation. I trust you are the same, I have found a sweetheart, after all, amongst the Boers, such a nice, useful, frank fellow. He took me to the Dopper Kirk on Sunday to hear the president preach. What a noble old gentleman he is, to be sure! So full of Christian charity and fatherly sentiment. I fairly fell in love with him, as you will, I am sure, when you see him. My sweetheart is his footman, so that I have been introduced to the household, and can find my way about. I have a plan how to manage something, and have already quite a host of friends here and am doing well. Are you coming up to see me when Fanny comes? Do so if you can, and I'll get Johann to show us over the private garden of the dear old president. A lady friend of mine is writing this for me, as I have hurt my right hand.

"Your loving friend,--

"Clara."

Ned interpreted this note as follows:--

"Game all right. Have got the old humbug Kruger under my eye, and have a plan how to make him my prisoner when the time comes. Friends here ready for emergencies. If you can come up and help, do so."

That same afternoon Fred arrived, and the two took the night train to Pretoria, having forwarded a wire for "Clara" to meet them.

Once more our heroes entered the abode of Kruger, ushered this time by a back entrance under the guidance of the friendly footman Johann.

They spent the night together and studied their plans. When Clarence revealed his scheme they admitted that it might be done. If he could capture Kruger, it would be a big feather in his cap.

"Oom Paul is not the man to be taken by force alone," said Clarence. "He is game enough to put a pistol to his own head rather than yield. Now that Fred is here, my plan is that one of us shall offer to change clothes with him when he is hemmed in, and take him unawares somehow. We'll trust to chance for the how, when the time comes."

Then it was all duly arranged, and they prepared themselves for the morrow.

It was a hot day in Pretoria, and the town was crammed with visitors. Church Square was blocked with people, and every other street was filled almost to suffocation.

At the hour appointed the president and his wife drove up, surrounded by a close line of guards. He took his place on the platform that had been raised above the crowd outside the Government buildings. He was greeted by thunders of applause and a salvo from the forts; then, as he rose, breathless silence succeeded the noise.

He began by reading over the resolutions and decrees of the Volksraad with respect to the Uitlanders. The reforms were granted even more completely than the Uitlanders had hoped. There were clauses, however, to each of these generous concessions which, to those who knew what the termination would be, crippled and nullified the most important. But the general audience was not in a critical mood. It roared itself hoarse with wild applause.

While this shouting was going on, the burly president stood grinning upon the crowd like an amiable gorilla. Then, when silence was once more restored, his expression suddenly altered. His cheeks became puffed, and his eyes sunk back beneath his heavy brows, while his big ears stood out. Then with a thunderous growl, like an angry beast, he read the declaration of independence first, and the defiance to England, and finished his oration in his harshest accent.

"To your tents, and consider whether you will be with us or against us in this holy struggle for independence. My ultimatum is already on its way to this verdomde government, that would deprive us of our rights. In twenty hours from this, every subject of England will be our enemy, be imprisoned, and shot if we think fit, or expelled from our country and their property confiscated. To your tents and consider, for your fate is in your own hands."

These words the grim president thundered out to the dismayed Uitlanders; then he turned abruptly and left the scene as he had come, protected by his armed guard.

For a moment stupefaction held the crowd silent, then a deep growl went up from the masses who were being dispersed by the Zarps.

At this instant Ned Romer felt a touch on his arm, and, looking round, he saw Philip Martin at his side.

"This ultimatum has changed our plans," he whispered, as he drew the three friends out of the crowd. "The English Government will now decide the question, and we must do nothing inside the Transvaal to disturb their plans. Our orders are now to clear out before this ultimatum expires, and give Oom Paul no excuse for his next step."

Philip Martin was gloomy, and the faces of our heroes also fell considerably.

"And are we to do nothing, Philip, after all our preparations?" asked Ned, in a disappointed tone.

"Nothing inside the Transvaal. Our work will be outside, and there will be lots to do there, you take my word. We must follow the example of the Jews, and skedaddle if we can, before the lines are closed. Johannesburg must be left for the present, until we can come back with the British army. Tomorrow Natal and Cape Colony will be invaded, and then England can no longer hold back. I am off to join Baden-Powell, at Mafeking. Dr Jim has gone to Ladysmith, and you three fellows are to proceed to Kimberley, where you will find Mr Cecil Rhodes. It is a bit disappointing, I will allow; but this is going to be a bigger and a more complete affair than we could have accomplished, therefore we must be content to leave it to the proper hands to clear the board."

Philip Martin shook hands with them, and walked quickly away to warn others of his own party, while our heroes prepared for their exodus.