The Petticoat Commando Part 13

"Oh, I could not possibly do that. What does he care about our anxieties? Besides, I think it would be most indiscreet."

"I don't care," shortly.

In the end Hansie had to go, and when once she had made up her mind she looked forward with some pleasure to her little adventure, for there was no one of the officials known to her for whom she had a more sincere regard than General Maxwell. His house was but a few minutes'

walk from Harmony, and Hansie, looking up at the gathering clouds, hoped that she could be home again before the approaching storm broke loose.

Our "brave" heroine _trembled_ when she rang the bell, for all her distaste of the task had returned with redoubled force, but her self-confidence was soon restored under the genial warmth of the General's greetings.

He did not seem to be the least annoyed or displeased at this intrusion on his Sabbath privacy. And he was quite alone--not, as Hansie had feared to find him, surrounded by a crowd of officers.

He told her that though he had not been able to get news of her brother direct, he knew that a large number of prisoners had arrived at the Johannesburg Fort from Ventersdorp. He thought her brother would probably be amongst them, and gave her special permits to Johannesburg and back, and also a letter of introduction to the Military Governor in Johannesburg, asking him as a personal favour to a.s.sist the ladies in their quest.

"If I were you, I would not wait for definite news, but go to-morrow on the chance of finding him. Delay might bring you great disappointment. But, tell me, Miss van Warmelo, are you not glad that your brother has been captured and is out of danger now?"

"Glad? No, how can I be glad? It means a man less on our side--and _he is a man_, I can a.s.sure you. If all the Boers were as brave and true--and such unerring marksmen--the war would soon be over."

The Governor looked disturbed.

"It seems to me a strange thing for a girl like you to feel so strongly. Are all your women such staunch patriots?"

"Not all, perhaps, but there are many who feel even more strongly than I do."

The General kept her there and talked of many things, asked her innumerable questions on the country and its people, and drew her out upon the subject of the war.

Outside, the elements were raging, for the storm had broken loose, and the rain came down in torrents, while the crashing thunder pealed overhead.

Hansie looked anxious, and the Governor said:

"It will soon be over. Are you afraid?"

"Oh no, I love our storms; but my mother is alone at home, and she does _not_."

She told him, toying with her permits, of her curious collection of pa.s.ses and other war-curios, and he left the room with a friendly--

"Perhaps I can find something for you too," returning with a b.u.t.ton from his coat and a colonel's crown.

"The storm is over; let us see what damage has been done," and he led the way into the garden, showed her the flowers, asked the names of shrubs unknown to him.

"Oh, mother, the English must not be so good to us! It is not right to accept favours at their hands, for it places us in a false position.

Don't ever ask me to go to General Maxwell again."

"Of course not. I quite agree with you, but I am very glad to have those permits. Did you ask about the portmanteau and box?"

"Yes. He said it was all right, and promised to give permits, so that they need not be examined."

They did not leave for Johannesburg, after all, on Monday, for a full list of the names of prisoners from Ventersdorp arrived, but there was no van Warmelo among them.

Telegrams were sent right and left, but there was something strange about the whole affair, and no satisfactory answers could be got until five days after the first tidings had reached Harmony. The prisoner was at Potchefstroom.

Two more days of suspense and a note from Major Hoskins came, enclosing a telegram--"Van Warmelo leaving to-morrow for Fort Johannesburg."

Great rejoicings! The women had begun to fear that their hero had been whisked away to some remote portion of the globe, without one word from them.

General Maxwell's letters of introduction acted like a charm when presented at the various military departments in the Golden City.

Colonel Mackenzie, the Military Governor, gave the women a letter of introduction to the O.C. troops, who directed them to the Provost-Marshal, Captain Short, informing them that they would find him at his office in the Fort.

The Provost-Marshal did not know that more prisoners from Ventersdorp were expected that day. He thought there must be some mistake--unless--yes, there would be another train at 5 o'clock that afternoon.

The ladies were advised to call again on Sunday morning and drove to Heath's Hotel, where they had taken up their quarters. How quiet and deserted the Golden City looked! How bleak and desolate, with the first breath of winter upon it!

Poor Hansie had a shocking cold, and as she drove through the silent streets with her mother all the miseries of the past eighteen months came crowding into her aching heart and throbbing brain.

What would the meeting be like to-morrow? Would he be changed? And what would he have to tell? The question still remained whether he would be allowed to tell them anything about the war at all----

Suddenly a brilliant thought flashed into Hansie's mind.

"Oh, mother, let us go to the Braamfontein Station and see the train arrive. I know we won't be allowed to speak to him, but we may at least wave our hands and _look_ at him."

Her mother was delighted with the thought, and at 4 o'clock that afternoon they took a cab to Braamfontein Station.

The train had been delayed, and would be in at 6 instead of 5 o'clock, so they were told, but, for fear of having been misinformed, they decided to wait at the station.

Cold, dusty, pitiless, the keen wind blew on that unfriendly platform.

There was no ladies' waiting room--in fact, it seemed as if the rooms had all been utilised for other, perhaps military, purposes.

It is incredible the amount of suffering that can be crowded into one hour of waiting!

Thank G.o.d, at last the train steamed in.

Armed troops and an unusually large number of pa.s.sengers alighted on the platform, but there was not a prisoner to be seen. The desperate women walked up and down, keenly scrutinising every face they pa.s.sed, until they heard a well-known, highly excited voice calling out "Mother! Mother!" to them from behind. They turned and saw their hero tumbling from the train, an armed Tommy at his heels.

There are no memories of the moments such as those which followed.

Things must have been rather bad, for when Hansie looked round again the armed soldier had turned away and was slowly walking in another direction. Blessed, thrice-blessed Tommy!

To this day when Hansie thinks of him she remembers with a pang that she did not shake hands with him.

"May we walk with the prisoner as far as the Johannesburg Fort?"

Hansie asked.

"Certainly, miss."

How the people stared and turned round in the street to stare again!

And now that I come to think of it, it must have looked remarkable--a ruffianly-looking man, carrying a disreputable bundle of blankets, a tin cup and water-bottle slung across his shoulders all clanking together, and a small _Bible_ in his hands, with a well-dressed lady on each arm and an armed soldier behind, guarding the whole!