The Petticoat Commando Part 35

How to get out a warning to the Skurvebergen in time was the problem before them now.

Hansie spent the next few days in flying about on her bicycle to find out if any one in the "inner circle" had been arrested.

Thank G.o.d, no. Mr. Willem Botha was at home, the Jouberts were still in undisturbed security, all the other members of the Secret Committee were safe.

They congratulated themselves and one another on their escape, and Mr.

Botha, visiting at Harmony a few days later, once more impressed on them the danger of coming into contact with any spies other than those they knew and trusted.

And again he warned them to keep no papers in the house--"for," he continued, "we must always bear in mind that we can never be sure we have not been betrayed. Our names may be on the black list already, and the enemy may only be waiting to catch us red-handed. No one is safe, and no one ought to _feel_ safe."

There was a moment's pause, and then he went on, with evident reluctance: "I have good reason for warning you again. I do not wish to alarm you, but only last night, as I was walking in the moonlight with my wife, we pa.s.sed a man I know well, with a girl on his arm. The moon was shining very brightly, and, as they pa.s.sed me, I distinctly heard him say, 'This man has also been given away.'"

Hansie felt a thrill of acute anxiety for her friend. The two women looked at one another.

They tried to console themselves with the thought that the man might have mistaken Mr. Botha for some one else. There was nothing to do but wait, but the suspense and uncertainty were very hard to bear, and long were the discussions over every imaginable possibility.

They knew that the traitor was acquainted with the Captain of the Secret Service and his private secretary Mr. Greyling. Did he also know the names of the members of the Committee? Did Greyling confide the secret of the time-table to him? These young men were reckless.

Death was their daily bread, and caution was a thing unknown to them.

Wonderful developments could be expected within the next few days.

The lowering clouds of adversity gathered closely, surely, mercilessly, around our friends.

Clasp that hand again, and once again, in mute farewell. Look deep into those steadfast eyes. It may be for the last time for many long, relentless years; it may be for the last time--on earth!

CHAPTER XXVII

THE BETRAYAL OF THE SECRET COMMITTEE. A MEMORABLE DAY OF TROUBLE

It was only a few days after the van Warmelos had parted from Mr.

Botha that Mr. J. Joubert arrived at Harmony with the tidings that four men had again entered the town that night. One of them was a lad of nineteen, young Erasmus, whose parents had been killed by lightning when he was a child, and to whom Mrs. Joubert had been a second mother.

When he arrived at their home that night they were very angry with him, and demanded what he meant by coming into the very heart of danger.

He meekly answered that he had merely come to see how they were all getting on, and to spend a few days at home, casually remarking that there was a dearth of horse-shoe nails on commando, and that he had been ordered to bring some out.

He and his comrades knew nothing of the recent betrayal, and it was their good fortune that they had used an entirely different route, coming through Skinner's Court. They had not seen a single guard.

Besides the horse-shoe nails, there was the usual demand for clothing and European and Colonial newspapers.

Mrs. van Warmelo immediately made a parcel of the cuttings which she and her friends had been collecting for some time past, and wrote a tiny note to Mr. Greyling, warning him and his fellows against coming in through the usual way, which was now guarded, and informing him that his name had been betrayed. This note was hidden in a match-box with a double false bottom, covered with matches, and given to Erasmus to be handed to Greyling.

Since the revelations made, it was not safe to see the spies, nor was it known by whom the match-box had been sent.

After all, in spite of Mrs. Joubert's vexation with the reckless youth, she was thankful to know that some one was going out to Skurveberg with a warning to the Secret Service.

Erasmus had to leave without the horse-shoe nails, because, though J.

Joubert hunted all over the town, he could not procure enough to send out.

The stores sold them only to the military and blacksmiths, and the latter were curious to know why he did not bring his horses to them to be shod.

Mother and daughter were there at 5.30 p.m., with their parcels, and at 6 p.m. the spies were to leave, Mrs. Malan and van der Westhuizen driving out with them as far as they could.

That was a real danger, compared with which all other risks were as nothing, to drive through the streets of Pretoria with spies, at a time when everyone was liable to be stopped to produce residential pa.s.ses and to show permits for horses and carriages.

But, indeed, those women were not to be intimidated by anything!

We have now come to a morning into which many events of disastrous importance were crowded, the fateful September 9th. Before breakfast, an agitated girl, unknown at Harmony, arrived with the intelligence that Mr. Willem Botha had been arrested at 8 o'clock the night before.

No other names were mentioned then, but it was felt instinctively that the entire Secret Committee had been betrayed and arrested, and the news, when it reached Harmony during the course of the day, found mother and daughter to some extent prepared. The shock, nevertheless, was so great, so crushing, that it took them some time to recover sufficiently to form a plan of action.

Hansie hastily swallowed some food and was preparing to go to town, when her mother asked her what she meant to do, whether she had thought of anything, or if it was advisable to show herself at all just then.

"I don't know what I am going to do _afterwards_, mother," she said, "but I am going straight to Mrs. Botha now."

"Hansie!" exclaimed Mrs. van Warmelo in consternation, "you will do nothing of the kind. Their house will be watched, and you will be followed home. You can do nothing to help that poor woman now, and to be seen with her would be an unpardonable and unnecessary risk."

But Hansie had made up her mind, and nothing could persuade her that it was not her duty to stand by her friend in her hour of need. There was good reason, too, for her anxiety.

After thirteen years of happy, though childless married life, Mr. and Mrs. Botha's home was about to be blessed with an infant child, and it was the thought of the expectant mother's anguish and despair that took Hansie to her side.

"Well" (Mrs. van Warmelo was secretly pleased with her daughter's behaviour), "if you are determined to expose yourself to this danger, I think I had better begin to pack at once, for we shall certainly be sent away."

"All right, mother," Hansie laughed; "pack away, and I'll come home as soon as I can to help you."

She took tender leave of her mother, cheering her with hopeful words and whistling gaily to Carlo to come and protect her on her adventurous expedition.

No one could have been more surprised to see Hansie than Mrs. Botha.

She stared as if she could not believe her eyes, and then fell sobbing on her young friend's shoulder.

"How could you risk it to come here?" she exclaimed.

"No one else has been near me, and I am deserted by all my friends since----" here she fell a-weeping again, and clung to Hansie for support.

As soon as she could speak, she gave an account of all that had taken place.

She and her husband were sitting under the verandah the night before, talking about the miserable business of the spy's infidelity and its disastrous results to so many people in town. Mr. Botha was just saying that, in the event of his arrest, his wife need have no fear of his betraying a friend, and that the English might shoot him, but they would not get a shred of information out of him, when two detectives on bicycles rode up and dismounted at the steps.

Mrs. Botha just had time to whisper hurriedly to her husband that she would rather see him dead than have him come back to her a traitor, when the detectives, producing a warrant for his arrest, approached him.

He gave himself up quietly; there was nothing else for him to do. He was unarmed, for it was one of the first rules of the Committee and practically their only safeguard in the event of an arrest, to carry on their work without weapons of any sort.

The house was thoroughly searched for spies and all books and papers were taken away, but, thanks to Mr. Botha's prudence and foresight, not a single incriminating doc.u.ment was found.