The Covenant Part 56

'The Boers are some of the finest people on earth. United with them, we could form a nation of unsurpa.s.sed strength.'

'Why don't we invite them to join us?'

Mr. Rhodes frowned and rubbed his chin. 'You know, I'm a member of Parliament. And what kind of district elected me, if you please? Heavily Boer. I work with them, I collect their votesand d.a.m.nit, I know them no better than when I started. And those who emigrated north I understand even less.'

'Is there a mystery?'

'Yes. They huddle in their little republics and refuse to join the mainstream of the human race. They keep away on their farms and leave the running of the world to us.'

'You speak as if you intend to rule the world.'

'Nothing less.' Quickly he added, 'If that sounds arrogant, I mean that the empire I shall put together for England must rule the world.' He dropped his voice: 'So your task will be to bring the Boers in with us.'

Then he became so impa.s.sioned on this point that he asked Saltwood to wait by the railing, and while other pa.s.sengers were heading for the dining room, he ran to his cabin and returned with a rumpled piece of paper. It was a holograph of his will, and when Saltwood read it he was shocked: C. J. Rhodes was donating all his possessions to two minor officials of the English government, commissioning them to bring into the British Empire countries as diverse as the United States, the east coast of China and the whole continent of Africa, the Voortrekker republics not excluded.

'Can this really be done?' Frank asked.

'It must be,' Rhodes said, 'and you're to be part of it.'

When the volatile man disappeared into his cabin, Saltwood reflected on his curious behavior: he was offering a young Oriel graduate, whom he scarcely knew, a part in governing the world, but he never invited him to his cabin, or to his table, or to any other event of which he was a part. And one afternoon when he saw Frank talking with an attractive girl on her way home to Cape Town, he actually scowled and turned away in disgust. For some days thereafter he did not speak to Frank, and when he finally did he muttered, 'I hope you're not making silly promises to some silly girl,' and only when Saltwood replied, 'Hardly,' did he resume his friendship.

When the ship docked at Port Elizabeth, Frank headed immediately north for his family's farm, and he supposed that he would never again see C. J. Rhodes, but one afternoon as he and his parents sat at tea on a veranda overlooking the pastures and the stream, a dusty cart clattered up to the gate, and Mr. Rhodes strode up to the porch. After the most perfunctory acknowledgment of Frank's parents, he asked bluntly, 'Well, Saltwood, are you prepared to come with me?'

'I haven't really . . .'

'You're not mooning about the law, are you? With so much work to be done?'

Frank tried to avoid a harsh answer that would send Mr. Rhodes away permanently, and once he vacillated, Rhodes sprang at him like a tiger: 'Good! We're off to Kimberley in the morning.' Only then did he bother with the older Saltwoods: 'I'll watch over him. He'll be at the heart of things, and when you next see him he'll be a man.'

The next day they drove to Graaff-Reinet, where they caught the stagecoach to Kimberley, whose violent activity was bewildering. Frank would never forget his first sight of the diamond mines, for as he wrote to his mother, they were like nothing else on earth: Each prospector is ent.i.tled to a square of precious land, thirty-one feet to a side, but of this land he must leave a narrow path for others to use. Since Miner A had dug his plot forty feet down, and Miner B twenty feet, poor Miner C who has not dug at all finds himself atop a square with such precipitous sides that any fall is fatal. Also, at night irresponsible men cut underneath the footpaths, causing them to collapse. All is chaos.

But what catches the eye is a ma.s.sive nest of cobwebs which looks as if ten thousand Arachnes had been spinning. They are the wires and ropes leading from the edge of the mine down to each of the individual holdings. On them buckets are drawn up, bearing the diamantiferous soil, and this immense tangle of lines, the buckets rising and falling are the signs of a diamond mine at Kimberley.

It is Mr. Rhodes' fervent hope that he can bring some order into this madness, and to this end he has quietly been buying up plots here and there, endeavoring to consolidate them into some kind of reasonable concentration. If he can do so, he will command the industry and will become even more rich and powerful than he now is. It is my job to cut down to the same level all the contiguous plots he acquires, and I am finding many diamonds in the soil left for the footpaths. But for the moment the chaos continues, with one block fifty feet up in the air, the one beside it fifty feet down, and no order anywhere except in those areas he controls. It is a race between reason and anarchy, and he a.s.sures me that where men of good sense are concerned, reason always wins. He intends to.

Frank did not tell his mother what might have been the two most interesting bits of information. In the cottage occupied by Mr. Rhodes just as much chaos reigned as in the mines; a tin-roofed affair, it was Spartan-like, with not a single adornment to grace it, clothes pitched everywhere, dishes unwashed and furniture about to collapse. No woman was ever allowed in the house, which Rhodes shared with a gifted, sickly young man a few years younger than he. Frank found that he wasn't the only one in his early twenties selected to advance Mr. Rhodes' many interests; a squad of bright, eager recruits submerged their personal interests in those of this dreamer who visualized a Union Jack over every territory from the Cape to Cairo.

He invariably called his young men by their first names: Neville, Sandys, Percival, Bob, Johnny, and often he encouraged them to engage in hearty pranks, as if they were in grammar school. They were free to entertain such women as they could find in the diamond town, but there was an unwritten law that ladies were to be flirted with, and perhaps frolicked with, but quickly forgotten. Far greater things were in store for 'my young gentlemen,' as he referred to them, and like Shaka, he wanted his regiments to keep their hearts on the great tasks ahead and not on the bosoms of their wives.

Frank noticed that up to the time of his formal employment, Rhodes addressed him with a curt 'Saltwood,' but once he accepted his a.s.signment he became 'Frank,' and so he would remain, perpetually young, perpetually smiling. Like all the young gentlemen, he was paid well.

The second interesting bit involved Mr. Rhodes' chief rival in diamonds, an extraordinary chap who never stopped amazing the young gentlemen and the public at large. He was as different from Mr. Rhodes as a man could be, but was equally ruthless in hounding a business opportunity, and he alone stood between Rhodes and true riches.

Barnett Isaacs was a year older than Rhodes, a Jew born in one of the worst slums of London; in the midst of an undistinguished career as a frowzy vaudeville comedian and tap-dancer, he decided in a stroke of pure genius to make his fortune in the mines of South Africa. With only his nerve and some boxes of cheap cigars purchased near the docks at Cape Town, he talked his way north to Kimberley, peddled his 'six-penny-satisfiers,' and earned a pitiful living entertaining the miners with deplorable jokes, ridiculous acrobatics, and whatever else came to his mind when he stood before them in one cheap hall or another.

But Barnett Isaacs was an inspired listener, and while he clowned he picked up choice bits of negotiable information: who was going broke, who wanted to return to London, who had stolen whose claim. And bit by bit he pulled this information together, acquiring a horse and cart and prowling the diggings as a kopje-walloper, a kind of money-minded vulture looking to snap up the discarded pickings off other men's sorting tables. He soon got his hands on valuable rights, and one day Kimberley woke to find that Isaacs was one of the richest men on the diamond fields.

He thereupon changed his name to Barney Barnato, bought himself several suits of slick clothes, and indulged in a fancy which had tantalized many an earlier vaudevillian.

At a considerable personal cost, he a.s.sembled a moderately good theatrical company, purchased himself a set of Shakespearean costumes, and offered South Africa its first performance of Oth.e.l.lo, Oth.e.l.lo, with himself in the t.i.tle role. Frank arrived at the mines too late to see the opening performance, but when all the young gentlemen purchased tickets to a subsequent exhibition, he went along to a steaming tin-roofed shed crowded with a noisy audience that cheered madly when 'Our Barney' strode onstage. His Desdemona, unfortunately, was six inches taller than he and appeared to be wrestling with him whenever they embraced; also, his makeup was so black and so thick that when she touched him her skin came away smeared while his showed white empty s.p.a.ces. with himself in the t.i.tle role. Frank arrived at the mines too late to see the opening performance, but when all the young gentlemen purchased tickets to a subsequent exhibition, he went along to a steaming tin-roofed shed crowded with a noisy audience that cheered madly when 'Our Barney' strode onstage. His Desdemona, unfortunately, was six inches taller than he and appeared to be wrestling with him whenever they embraced; also, his makeup was so black and so thick that when she touched him her skin came away smeared while his showed white empty s.p.a.ces.

'But he's rather good!' Frank whispered to the men beside him.

'Wait till the afterpiece!'

'What happens?'

'You won't believe it.'

When the final curtain fell, with Desdemona dead and pretty well besmudged, the young actor who played Ca.s.sio came forward to announce that in response to unusual demand, Mr. Barnato, who had already excelled in Oth.e.l.lo, Oth.e.l.lo, would now give his cla.s.sic rendition of Hamlet's soliloquy, at which the crowd began to roar and whistle. After a few minutes Mr. Barnato, his face wiped clean, appeared in a whole new costume. 'Watch this!' the young gentlemen whispered. would now give his cla.s.sic rendition of Hamlet's soliloquy, at which the crowd began to roar and whistle. After a few minutes Mr. Barnato, his face wiped clean, appeared in a whole new costume. 'Watch this!' the young gentlemen whispered.

While Frank gaped, Mr. Barnato nimbly gave a flip-flop and ended standing on his head. Maintaining perfect balance for a surprisingly long time, he began to recite the soliloquy, but as he came to the better lines, he gave wild gestures with his hands, stabbing at 'bare bodkin' and waving madly at 'fly to others that we know not of.' At the concluding words 'and lose the name of action' he gave an amazing flip and landed back on his feet. The applause was shattering, for as Mr. Rhodes admitted acidly when his young men returned, 'The remarkable thing is not that he can do it, but that whilst on his head he can speak so powerfully and deliver such convincing gestures. I've never seen a better Hamlet.'

These two t.i.tans, Rhodes the taciturn plotter, Barnato the vaudevillian, fought each other for years, and then one night they stood face-to-face in the cottage of a man destined to be famous in South African history: Dr. Leander Starr Jameson. At four in the morning, after eighteen hours of tense bargaining, a deal was struck whereby Oth.e.l.lo would eventually surrender all his control to Mars for a check whose photograph would be widely displayed throughout the world: 5,338,650. As Barnato capitulated, bleary-eyed and worn down, he said, 'Some people have a fancy for one thing, some for another. You, Rhodes, have a fancy for building an empire. Well, I suppose I must give in to you.' But he refrained from doing so until Rhodes promised that he would personally sponsor Barnato for membership in the ultra-exclusive Kimberley Club, where no Jewish Oth.e.l.lo from Whitechapel would normally be welcomed.

If Barney's recitation of Hamlet Hamlet had been surprising to Frank, his campaign for election to Parliament was stupefying: he purchased a whole new set of Paris suits, an imperial landau pulled by four dappled horses, European gilded uniforms for six footmen, a handsome costume for a postillion who rode ahead blowing a long trumpet, and a bra.s.s band of eighteen to follow behind. 'I voted for him,' Frank told the young gentlemen, and to his delight he found that they had, too. And he suspected that Mr. Rhodes had done the same, for as he once said, 'There are few men in this world who achieve everything they seek. Barney Barnato is one. He's played had been surprising to Frank, his campaign for election to Parliament was stupefying: he purchased a whole new set of Paris suits, an imperial landau pulled by four dappled horses, European gilded uniforms for six footmen, a handsome costume for a postillion who rode ahead blowing a long trumpet, and a bra.s.s band of eighteen to follow behind. 'I voted for him,' Frank told the young gentlemen, and to his delight he found that they had, too. And he suspected that Mr. Rhodes had done the same, for as he once said, 'There are few men in this world who achieve everything they seek. Barney Barnato is one. He's played Oth.e.l.lo Oth.e.l.lo to applause. He's recited to applause. He's recited Hamlet Hamlet on his head. He's won the boxing championship of the diamond mines for his weight. He's had his own imperial guard. He's been elected to office. And he's the richest Jew in the country, with a full-fledged membership in the Kimberley Club. What more could he want?' on his head. He's won the boxing championship of the diamond mines for his weight. He's had his own imperial guard. He's been elected to office. And he's the richest Jew in the country, with a full-fledged membership in the Kimberley Club. What more could he want?'

The young gentlemen were saddened when they heard that this man who had conquered the world by courage and sheer brazenness had committed suicide by throwing himself off the England-bound Scot Scot in the middle of the Atlantic. in the middle of the Atlantic.

When Cecil Rhodes acquired control of the diamond fields, his attention was free to focus on the greater goals of his life; mere money, of which he now had prodigious supplies, interested him little except as a path to power. In the years when he was one of the richest men in the world, he continued to live with his young gentlemen in austere surroundings. 'Every man has his price,' he a.s.sured Saltwood, 'and often it's a hankering for luxury. With enough money you can buy any man. For example, the king up in Matabele-land wants guns. Above everything else, he wants guns. So let's see that he gets them.'

Selecting a team from among his Kimberley staff, he began to suborn the king, and this left him free to study the perpetual problem: 'Frank, we have at our end of the continent a priceless land governed by three races. Englishwho ought to rule. Boerswho don't know how to rule. And Kaffirswho should never be allowed to rule. What's to be done?'

He allowed Frank to study this problem for some days, then gave his own answer: 'It's clear that England was intended to govern all of Africa. We're people of vision, decency, honor. We know how to govern, and to everyone we govern we bring added virtues. So we must gain control.

'The Boers? I love them. In some ways they're st.u.r.dier than the English. But they lack vision. They will never be able to provide good government. The republics they occupy must become part of our enterprise, and I think I see ways of accomplishing this. When they join us, they must be given every consideration, for we need them. But join they must.

'The Kaffirs? I stand ready to offer full citizenship to any man regardless of his color, so long as he is civilized. Would it be proper for them to have the vote while they remain in barbarism? I say they must be treated as children, and we must do something for the minds and brains the Almighty has given them.' He added, 'We must lord it over them until they gain civilization. Above all, Frank, never let them have alcohol.'

Upon a.n.a.lysis, Frank found that all of Mr. Rhodes' basic beliefs were debatable: at Majuba the Boer armies had knocked the devil out of regular British troops; Germany was moving defiantly into Africa and had already annexed the southwest lands along the Atlantic Ocean, her moves outsmarting the English; in the mines, Kaffir workmen were proving at least as capable as whites. But Mr. Rhodes had several million pounds to support his objectives, and Saltwood had none, so it was the former's views that prevailed.

To Rhodes, diamonds were the fire of his life, the glittering foundation of his fortune, so it was not surprising that he had been lukewarm to the discovery of gold two years earlier on the Wit.w.a.tersrand (White Water Ridge), some five hundred miles to the north in the heart of the Boer republics. He did, however, stake his claim to a share of the golden fortunes, launching a great company that made him a Croesus, with unlimited power to undermine the Boers, keep the blacks obedient, and drive his highway of empire straight to the heart of Africa.

What happened next was inexplicable. In the Cape Parliament, Cecil Rhodes invariably sponsored full partnership for any Afrikaners who resided in the province, and they reciprocated by electing him to office, and would do so till he died. They liked his courage and admired his abilities. But now he decided to destroy the Boer republics in the north because, as he explained to Saltwood, 'They must come in with us.'

'But if they don't want to?'

'Then we shall force them.'

His reasoning was simple. The diamond mines at Kimberley were located on farmland which the English by infamous chicanery had forced to become part of their colony; English law governed the diamond fields. But the gold mines were located within the boundaries of one of the Boer republics; here Boer law prevailed, and this raised problems.

In the gold fields, which proliferated at a rate far greater than that seen in either Australia or California, there were Englishmen galore, and hundreds of Australians, and many Frenchmen, and Italians and Canadians and not a few American citizens who flocked in on ships from all the ports of the world. They were noisy, undisciplined, and a menace to the stolid Boers who wanted to be left alone on their farms; they swooped down on Wit.w.a.tersrand like vultures finding a carca.s.s on the highveld, and with them they brought contention, violence and every possible threat to the phlegmatic Boer way of life.

The self-governing Boers retaliated with the most imprudent laws: an Uitlander (Outlander) could vote for the Volksraad only after fourteen years' residence; before that apprenticeship he remained a second-cla.s.s citizen, ent.i.tled to cast his ballot only for a separate a.s.sembly subject to Boer veto; dynamite required in mining was made by a Boer-favored monopoly, and prices for it became prohibitive; any infraction of a score of meticulous laws must be judged in a Dutch-speaking court according to laws not promulgated in English. Investment of money, movement of men and the mining of gold all fell under Boer law, and no concessions to reason were granted.

Rhodes, with his relentless determination to bring disparate elements in Africa under English rule, was convinced that the arrogant conduct of the Boers was ill-advised and must lead to rebellion unless modified. He decided to intervene personally with the forbidding Boer leader, Stepha.n.u.s Johannes Paulus Kruger, that rumbling volcano of a man who ruled his little world from the stoep of his unpretentious dwelling on a tree-lined street in Pretoria.

'I will go to him privately this time,' he told his young men, 'and invite him like a gentleman to join with us.'

'What can you offer him in return?' someone asked.

'Membership in the British Empire,' Rhodes said without hesitating. 'What more could a ruler of a petty state want?'

Before any of the young men could point out that many nations about the world wanted a good deal more, Rhodes continued: 'I will see President Kruger next week, and we will talk like two grown-up men. Frank, you will come with me, so make sure you learn all there is to know about him.' During the next days Saltwood sought out anyone in Kimberley with knowledge of the t.i.tanic man with whom Cecil Rhodes was about to grapple. The diamond magnate had met the Boer leader before, in his capacity as a Cape politician; this time he would go unofficially as a private citizen, with his eye not on local affairs but on world empire.

'First of all,' one of the young gentlemen told Saltwood, 'he's known as Oom Paul, Uncle Paul. He's twenty-eight years older than Mr. Rhodes and will demand due respect. He's very vain, you know.'

'And ugly as sin,' another said. 'His face is all crags without the grandeur of mountains. His nose is marked with b.u.mps, and his eyes are hooded. He stands leaning backward, with his great belly projecting forward. But because of his height. . . He's much taller than Mr. Rhodes and will treat him like a little boy.'

The first instructor resumed: 'He was in the Great Trek, you know. Killed some of Mzilikazi's warriors. Extraordinary strength. Extraordinary bravery. He's fought in all the wars.'

'But what you must remember, in all his life he's had only three months of schooling. He boasts, "Only book I ever read was the Bible, but since that contains all knowledge worth knowing, it's enough." '

'Do not,' the first man warned, 'react in any way if he mentions the earth.'

'I don't understand,' Frank said, seeking to build up his portrait of the Boer leader.

'Oom Paul believes the earth is flat. The Bible says so. And if he finds that either you or Mr. Rhodes holds it to be round, he'll stomp out of the room. He's also convinced that the Boers have been given their republics by G.o.d Himself, so Mr. Rhodes will be forced to prove that joining our empire is what G.o.d proposed, not Mr. Rhodes.'

'The one thing in your advantage, Frank, is that even though Kruger hates colonial Englishmen, he despises Uitlanders. Calls them the atheistic rabble stealing his land. He sees the English miners, Australians and Americans as impious and immoral, and he's not going to concede them anything. But if Mr. Rhodes can insinuate that he feels the same way about the Uitlanders . . .'

'It must be done with tact,' the oldest of the gentlemen warned. 'Oom Paul is beloved by his Boers. He's a dictator, because he knows he has total support, no matter what he does. He'll be imperious, objectionable, insulting and infuriating. But consistently he outsmarts the Uitlanders sent to deal with him. He's a brilliant manipulator. You are not meeting an ordinary man.'

One of the younger men added, 'And remember, the world is flat.'

Frank went to sleep that Thursday night with three adjectives reverberating: 'Stubborn, opinionated, G.o.d-driven, 'Stubborn, opinionated, G.o.d-driven,' and he concluded that in contesting with Oom Paul, Mr. Rhodes might be in for a difficult tussle, but then the adjectives that depicted Mr. Rhodes began echoing: 'Relentless, self-a.s.sured, empire-driven, 'Relentless, self-a.s.sured, empire-driven,' and he began to wonder if perhaps it might be President Kruger who would need help. Before he fell asleep he recalled the description of Kruger's appearance: 'Ugly as sin,' and he reflected that spiritually Mr. Rhodes might be described with those same words.

Late on a Friday afternoon they arrived in Pretoria in Mr. Rhodes' private coach, and they retired early so as to be up fresh and ready for their important meeting; Frank observed that Mr. Rhodes took special care with his shaving, as if he were seeing a princess, and adjusted his tie and high-collared coat so as to make the best appearance. In a carriage they rode through this extremely Boer town until, on a handsome street, they came upon an unpretentious cottage, somewhat Oriental in style, marked by a wide stoep on which stood a comfortable armchair. In it, so that all Pretoria could see him consulting with his people, sat Oom Paul himself, a hulking giant of a man, shoulders hunched forward, belly out, legs spread wide, his hooded eyes inscrutable, his beard framing his ma.s.sive face. He was holding court for whoever chanced to pa.s.s by.

Rhodes stopped the carriage a respectful distance from the cottage. 'He's a difficult man, Frank. You go and prepare the way. Be courteous.'

When Frank approached the stoep he was astounded at how ma.s.sive Kruger was and how ugly; he seemed a cartoonist's caricature of an illiterate Boer farmer, but when Frank fell in line and had a chance to witness how Kruger handled his complaining burghers, it was obvious that here was a man of tremendous animal magnetism and resolute force.

'What brings you?' the president asked abruptly.

'Mr. Cecil Rhodes is waiting in the carriage. He asks permission to have words with you, sir.'

Without even looking in the direction of the carriage, Kruger grumbled, 'This is Nachtmaal.'

'I was not aware of that, sir.'

'My burghers are. For years they've known they can talk with me at Nachtmaal. Schalk Wessels here has come a hundred and ten miles, haven't you, Schalk?'

When the man nodded, Kruger said, 'This day is sacred to the burghers. I might have a few free minutes on Monday.'

'On Monday, Mr. Rhodes has other appointments. Can't he possibly see you today? Or tomorrow, perhaps?'

President Kruger rose from his chair, demonstrating the great dignity he could command when necessary, and in a gracious voice explained: 'Today is Nachtmaal Sat.u.r.day. It's reserved for the burghers. Tomorrow is Sabbath. It's reserved for the Lord. No matter how important Mr. Rhodes' problems, they can wait till Monday, and so can he.'

Without thinking, Frank replied in words which imitated Kruger's urbanity: 'Mr. Rhodes waits for no man.' Turning smartly on his heel, he left the stoep.

But by the time he reached the waiting carriage, he was alarmed by what he had done and asked Mr. Rhodes, 'Shall I return and apologize?'

'Never! You behaved with spirit. I meant to give that old devil a chance, but I refuse to crawl on my knees. We shall proceed without him.'

Back in his offices, Mr. Rhodes referred so frequently to 'that obstinate, Bible-quoting Boer' that Frank speculated on what his response to his humiliation might be. Then he discovered that Mr. Rhodes was making many cautious inquiries on various aspects of Boer strength, for as he told his young gentlemen, 'A man must never move until he can a.s.sess the full power of his opponent.'

'Are you spying out the enemy?' one of the young fellows asked.

'I have no enemies,' Rhodes snapped. 'Only opponents. The day after we settle our differences we become mutual friends.' And Frank recollected a dozen instances in which this rule had prevailed. For three years Rhodes had fought Barney Barnato, and when the fight was settled, had welcomed him to his board of directors. Now Rhodes promised: 'The morning after President Kruger agrees to our plans, I will offer myself as his a.s.sistant in governing our joint territories.'

Suddenly, one morning, he wheeled about and fixed Saltwood with his watery eyes, which could become so fiery when he wished. 'Zimbabwe! Frank, I've always wanted to know who built it. I'm convinced in my own mind it must have been the Queen of Sheba, as the Bible indicates. What I want you to do is organize an expedition to search out the place and report to me what you find. Because we must nail down the truth before some German adventurer proves that the stone castles were built by Kaffirs. Hideous thought.'

Since Frank could not decipher what Mr. Rhodes was up to, he asked, 'What has this to do with your plans?'

'There's a man living far east of here, next to the farm they call Vry-meer. They say he went to Zimbabwe as a boy. Saw the turrets close up. I want you to interrogate that man, check his truthfulness . . .' Rhodes hesitated, then added, 'Take a measure of him.'

'Who is he?'

'Paulus de Groot.'

Frank did not allow his countenance to change, but like a bomb lighting up the night, Mr. Rhodes' intentions became clear. 'I'll go see General de Groot. Sound him out.'

Paulus de Groot was that giant of a man, six feet five, with stooped shoulders and ma.s.sive red head, who had led one of the charges at Majuba in 1881 when the Boers defeated the best troops in the British Empire. He was a man who could enlist the support of other men; he was also without vanity, for when the great battles ended he returned to his farm, where he was reported to be living in stark simplicity. The Boer rulers in Pretoria begged him to join the government, but he told them, 'Riding a horse up a hill doesn't make a man sagacious.' And he remained a farmer.

What Mr. Rhodes wanted to know was whether General de Groot had the capacity and the fire to resist an English attempt at taking over the Boer republics. 'He's said to be past sixty, much too old to be leading troops. But he's also said to be a very active man, good with horses and guns. Find out about him.'

'Then you're not interested in Zimbabwe? Not really?'

Mr. Rhodes changed his att.i.tude completely. Grasping Saltwood by the shoulder, he said quietly, 'Frank, I'm interested in everything. I want to pursue everything. You're off to Zimbabwe in the morning. By way of Vrymeer.'

It was this variety of interests which almost destroyed the pleasant relationship between Mr. Rhodes and Frank, because that night a cable from London reached South Africa, informing Rhodes that a business friend of some importance was sending his niece on vacation to Cape Town and using her to deliver a packet of doc.u.ments that he wanted Rhodes to study. Someone must meet the young woman, Maud Turner, not only to receive the doc.u.ments, but also to see that she was properly ensconced.

No one knew anything about Miss Turner except that her uncle was powerful, but there was a strong suspicion that she must be rather unattractive, else why would her uncle be sending her to Cape Town? Through the years English families had developed the pleasant and prudent habit of managing by one device or another to ship their unmarriageable females either to India or to Australia, on the principle that 'if she can't get married out where the compet.i.tion is so thin, she'll never make it.' This trickle of gaunt, unlovely creatures was regularly dispatched to the far colonies in hopes that most would never return, or at least, not till they had sons of a proper age for Eton or Harrow.

'You must attend her, Frank,' Rhodes said peremptorily.

'But I'm heading for Zimbabwe.'

'It can wait. It's been waiting three thousand years.'

So Frank Saltwood, now in his thirties, clean and trim, with the affectations of an Oxford education, boarded the smoky train at Kimberley and headed south over the empty s.p.a.ces of the Great Karroo.

He realized from the start that this could be a much more dangerous mission than going north to Zimbabwe, because of the inviolate rule that governed Mr. Rhodes' young gentlemen: once a man displayed serious interest in a young woman, he was quarantined from decisions of importance, and if he actually married her, he could be fired that day. Indeed, Frank wondered if Mr. Rhodes' choice of him to attend Miss Turner had not been some kind of signal that his days in diamonds and gold were nearing an end. Because he enjoyed his work and wanted to continue it, he was determined to handle the young lady with aloofness, accept her doc.u.ments, sign her into the Mount Nelson, and hurry back to Kimberley and his more important work. He certainly would not risk employment he'd liked for so many years by becoming entangled with a woman.

He had not counted on the duplicity of his Salisbury cousin, Sir Victor Saltwood, who had ascertained that young Frank was still without a wife or prospects of any. It was he who had gone to Maud Turner's uncle, proposing that his charming, gifted niece, twenty-three years old, be dispatched to Cape Town with papers for Cecil Rhodes, and it was he who drafted the cable which Rhodes received. Families of importance saw to it that their young men and women met marriageable people of their own kind, and if girls had to ship all the way to Australia or Cape Town, so be it. Sir Victor could not have devised that Frank himself should meet the ship, but he certainly expected him to meet Miss Turner sooner rather than later.

He had a right to expect favorable results, for he had sent one of the finest young women of the Salisbury district, member of a strong family, heiress to a modest fortune, and recipient of one of the most practical educations possible: she had been allowed to listen to the lively conversation of her elders, who were interested in politics, morals, business and empire. She was reasonably pretty, unreasonably clever with her tongue, and a person to whom an adventure like Cape Town was irresistibly attractive as something to do before settling down in Salisbury.