With Rifle and Bayonet Part 11

CHAPTER SIX.

FACE TO FACE WITH PRESIDENT KRUGER.

More than five minutes of unbroken silence elapsed after Mr Hunter had finished that portion of his narrative which dealt with the troubles of the Uitlanders. He had summed the whole position up, discussed every point, and had finally shown that the dispute between the Transvaal Government and its alien population was approaching vast proportions, which threatened to involve the English Government, who were now supporting the claims of their distant subjects. That a great conspiracy existed he had proved almost beyond a doubt, and now, like the patriotic man he was, he had prophesied how the sons of the great White Queen would meet their troubles, and how on every side and from every colony they would stretch forth their hands and join them in a cordial union, swearing that nothing should part them but death, till the country they loved had regained her paramountry.

Then, with flushed face and quickened breathing he had sprung from his chair, and was now striding up and down the verandah with a stem, determined look upon his face, while his cigar was firmly gripped between his teeth and his hands were thrust deeply into his trouser pockets.

Against the shady wall, lounging full-length in big cane chairs, Jack and Wilfred stared thoughtfully over the verandah rail, and away over the rolling veldt which stretched between Mr Hunter's house and his neighbour's. They had both listened without an interruption to the details of the rise and origin of the Boers, and of their subsequent fortunes, and now they sat moodily wondering whether the conspiracy spoken of could really be a fact, or whether, after all, it was not some delusion with which Mr Hunter was frightening himself.

"Don't imagine I am romancing or inventing a tale with which to alarm you," repeated Mr Hunter at this moment, with marked emphasis, stopping suddenly in front of the two lads, and fixing them with his eyes as though he had guessed their thoughts and was replying to them. "What I have said is strictly true. A day of trial and tribulation is fast coming for the British Empire, and you will see that her sons will answer the call 'To arms!' with the enthusiasm that I have predicted.

"Very soon, I fear, the Transvaal will be an unsafe country for Englishmen, and if we, together with the foreigners of all nationalities who make up the Uitlander population, are compelled to fly over the borders, it will mean ruin for us all. Take my own case, for example.

When I had served my time with the British army I determined to settle out here, having heard rumours of the hidden wealth of the country.

First I obtained employment at Kimberley. Then, when I had saved a little pile, I came up here and invested the money in an old shanty, built for the most part of biscuit-boxes, with a presentable plank here and there to hold them together. Fortunately I had a friend in Durban, a cousin as a matter of fact, and from him I obtained consignments of useful articles, food and other matters, of which spades and picks of best English manufacture formed a large proportion. There was a growing demand for all sorts of things. Prices ruled high, and in the first year I had more business to transact than I could manage single-handed, and had a large sum in hand after paying off all my accounts at Durban and the cost of transporting the goods. Next year my wife became my partner and helper in more ways than one. We carried on the store between us, and from that date we have prospered beyond our wildest hopes. I have built this house and the large buildings of the store.

There are funds of mine invested in the diamond mines at Kimberley, not to mention the gold diggings here, and every year almost I and my partners in the mines industry buy up mining rights in other parts.

"Thus you will see that a war will mean practical ruin for all, unless, of course, we beat these Boers and annex their country. Even then we cannot fail to be heavy losers.

"If it does come to blows I shall stay here as long as possible, and then I shall enlist in some of the volunteer corps of Colonials, which are certain to be called for. Possibly I shall obtain a commission, and in any case, my boys, I can promise you you shall get some post which will give you a share in the campaign.

"And now to return to you, Jack. I strongly advise you to leave for England. Unfortunately you have quarrelled with Piet Maartens, who is a dangerous young fellow; and now, by no fault of your own, you have become a marked man. I tell you your life will be in real danger from this moment, and I strongly advise you to get away."

"Yes, I realise that I shall be no special favourite of the Boers after this," Jack replied quietly; "but, whatever happens, I am not going to clear out of the country for Piet Maartens or any of his cla.s.s. There is a deep game being played, and I think the information I can give ought to be pa.s.sed on to the British consul here, and so to the Government. Also, there is likely to be some kind of a row pretty soon, and by what you have told me, Mr Hunter, I expect it is going to be a precious big one. At any rate there is likely to be some kind of excitement, and I am going to stay to see the fun. Johnny's Burg is likely to be too hot for me, and since I am not particularly anxious to get a bullet between my ribs, I think I will slip away at once for Kimberley, where I am certain to be safe."

"Do so, Jack, and at once too," said Mr Hunter earnestly. "Take my advice and go immediately. Call on Tom Salter when you reach the diamond mines, and he will give you something to do. If there is trouble here I will write you, and arrange where you are to meet us. As to the magazine, I will see that the consul hears all about it. Now let us go into the dining-room and have something to eat. There is a train for Bloemfontein in two hours' time. It will be dark then, and you can easily slip away. When you arrive you must procure a pony and ride to Kimberley."

Accordingly they left the verandah and joined Mrs Hunter in the dining-room, where dinner was already laid. About half an hour later, as they were in the middle of an animated conversation as to whether Paul Kruger would or would not grant concessions to the Uitlanders, Tom Thumb, the Kafir boy, entered the room hurriedly, and cried in a low voice, "Baas, de Zarps outside, and that angry man, Piet Maartens, him knock at door. De Zarps all round de house. I know 'cos I look through de window."

"Then they are after you, Jack," exclaimed Mr Hunter. "Go on eating for a moment, lads, while I think how we can escape those fellows."

"I'll tell you, Mr Hunter," said Jack calmly. "They know you dine about this time. Go on with your dinner, and let Tom Thumb remove my gla.s.s and seat at once, and make it appear as though I was not here.

I'll slip out and get away somehow. When he comes you will not know where I am, and can honestly say so. Good-bye all! We shall meet again soon. Don't forget to send my things on to Kimberley, Mr Hunter."

A moment later he had slipped out of the room, and Tom Thumb had swept away his gla.s.s and plate, and had made it appear that he had never been there. Meanwhile there was loud knocking at the door.

Jack darted through the hall, seized a broad-brimmed and somewhat shabby hat which Mr Hunter sometimes wore about the country, so as to make himself look less like a foreigner, and ran up the stairs. As he got to the top the front door was flung open by another Kafir, just as Tom Thumb walked across from the kitchen to the dining-room with a steaming dish in his hand.

"Mr Hunter in?" asked Piet Maartens roughly, stepping into the hall and rudely staring into the dining-room. "Tell him I want him."

"Baas at dinner; finish in half-hour," said Tom Thumb, standing in his way.

At this moment Mr Hunter called out to the "boy" to show Piet in, and a moment later the latter had entered the dining-room.

"I've a warrant here for the expulsion of John Somerton, who has been living with you," he said with a malicious smile. "Where is he? I call upon you to hand him over!"

Piet Maartens stared round rudely, and strutted up and down the room as he spoke, as if the house were his and not Mr Hunter's.

"John Somerton?" asked Mr Hunter quietly. "Why, what can he have been doing? Surely there is some mistake?"

"Mistake or not, I have a warrant here," repeated Piet, still with the same malicious smile, "and I call upon you once more to tell me where he is."

"I don't know where he is. You can see for yourself that he is not dining with us," said Mr Hunter quietly.

"He was seen to enter this house three hours ago, and he is here now, and you know it too!" exclaimed Piet angrily. "Now, where is he?"

"I have told you he is not here. If you do not believe me, and still think he is in the house, go and find him," said Mr Hunter calmly.

"Tom Thumb will take you round. Perhaps, then, you will have no objection to our going on with the meal which you have so rudely interrupted?"

Piet Maartens was evidently put out, but he knew Mr Hunter to be a man who was not to be trifled with, and with a muttered oath he turned on his heel and strode out into the hall. Then he went to the door and gave a shrill whistle. Two Boer policemen, who are locally known as "Zarps", joined him immediately, and at once commenced to search every corner of the house. Meanwhile Jack had not been idle. Once upstairs he had darted into Mr Hunter's room and obtained possession of an old tweed suit and a m.u.f.fler resembling in appearance those usually worn by the Boers. Then he hurried out and along a pa.s.sage till he came to a ladder leading up through a trap-door into a large loft where the cisterns for the supply of water were kept, much as they are in England.

A moment later he had scrambled up, pa.s.sed into the loft, and dragged the ladder after him. As he did so he heard steps running upstairs, and lowered the trap gently just as Piet Maartens and one of the Zarps arrived at the end of the pa.s.sage.

There was a moment's silence, and then he heard an exclamation of vexation and a rapid conversation, in which he recognised a word here and there which showed him that his pursuers had already guessed his whereabouts.

But Jack was not to be so easily caught. Above his head there was a small gla.s.s skylight, and this he pushed open with the end of his ladder, and was quickly out on the roof. Mr Hunter's house was irregular in shape, and the roof was consequently not one of those sloping ones on which there is no cover. Where Jack was he was in a small hollow, with tiles rising steeply on either side of him; and here he determined to remain as long as possible. It was already dusk, and in a few moments it would be quite dark, so that his figure would not be seen as he climbed over the top of the roof.

Placing his ladder against the steeply-sloping tiles, in readiness for a hurried escape, Jack hastily dragged Mr Hunter's old suit on over the clothes he was already wearing. There was no difficulty about it, for though Jack was somewhat taller than his friend, the latter was stouter and broader. Soon his rough disguise was completed, and with the slouch hat on his head he looked precisely like hundreds of Boers who were to be found in and around Johannesburg.

By now it was pitch dark, and he cautiously climbed up the ladder and stared down into the garden which surrounded the house. It was illuminated in patches where the lights from the windows fell upon it, and here the figures of half a dozen Zarps stood out prominently.

Elsewhere all was darkness, but by watching carefully, Jack saw first one and then as many as four other widely-separated dots of fire, which now and again disappeared, to become more prominent a moment later, clearly showing them to be the glowing ashes of the pipes which Boers one and all indulge in from morning till night, whether acting as policemen or not.

There was at least ten yards between them, and Jack at once made up his mind to attempt to reach the ground and slip away. Sitting astride the top of the roof, he lifted his ladder with the greatest caution, and lowered it again on the other side till it rested in the gutter. Then he gently pressed upon it, and finding it secure put all his weight upon it and descended. Arrived at the bottom he fixed his heels in the iron gutter, and once more lifted his ladder and pa.s.sed it down till it rested upon the roof of the verandah. This, like the one upon which he was sitting, was composed of corrugated iron, and at the slightest blow gave out a sound like a drum. But fear of capture, and what that might mean, made Jack cautious. His wits were sharply alert, and he handled the light ladder with such care that once more he managed to fix it in the gutter which edged the verandah, without so much as a sound.

Seated on the roof, he waited for a few moments, watching the little glowing spots below, and noticing that they had not moved. Then he heard shouts from inside the house, a loud bang, and the trampling of feet just beneath him, which told him that Piet Maartens and his companions had secured another ladder and were already in the loft.

There was not a moment to be lost. He scrambled on to the ladder and down to the verandah roof. Then he shifted his ladder and clambered down it to the ground, and was on the point of moving off when a rough hand forced something into his mouth, preventing him from crying out, a sack was thrown over his head, and he was carried away swiftly and bundled into a four-wheeled cart, which was driven off at a rapid pace.

For the moment Jack was bewildered. But he quickly realised that after all his caution the slim Boer had been too clever for him. One of the Zarps must have seen him climbing down the roof, and now he was in their hands, a prisoner, and with what fate before him? On his wrists a pair of handcuffs had been slipped, and at either side of him sat an armed Zarp. He could tell that, for each held him by the arm as though afraid that he would still contrive to get away, while one of them clicked the lock of his revolver in a very suggestive manner close to Jack's head.

"Well, I suppose I had better sit still and wait," he thought. "I must try to remember the various turnings, so that I shall know where they are taking me and how to return."

But this proved unnecessary. The cart rattled along through the streets and then out into the veldt. About half a mile outside the town it slowed down, the sack was removed, and Jack found he was close to the railway.

A few minutes later there was the shriek of an engine, and a locomotive and one carriage steamed up and stopped close by them.

Jack was bundled unceremoniously and with many a brutal jeer out of the cart and into the train, which at once went ahead, carrying him in the direction of Pretoria with three rough-looking, s.h.a.ggy Boers, one of whom was the identical man who had acted as sentry in the magazine when Jack made his escape. About a mile farther on they pulled up again, and this time Piet Maartens climbed in and joined them. Then they proceeded, and were soon racing along at a fast pace.

"We've got you at last, my fine, brave young Englishman, have we?"

jeered Piet Maartens. "Let me give you some good advice. Make the most of the next few minutes, as they are the last you are ever likely to see. You will have to reckon with Oom Paul now. You will not find him so soft-hearted as that fool Oom Schalk, and even if you do, there is myself, not to mention fat Hans Schloss, who have to be considered.

Altogether, you had best prepare for the end, and perhaps, now that you find we are in real earnest, you will not be quite so brave or c.o.c.k-a-whoop as you were down in the magazine."

Jack made no answer, for to do so would only have been to wrangle, and he felt as though he would like to think in peace, for even without Piet's malicious advice it was sufficiently certain that he could expect little mercy from the rough men into whose hands he had fallen.

Instead, therefore, of replying, he smiled disdainfully and remained silent, watching the lights which now and again flew past the window.

Half an hour later, the train drew up on the open veldt, and he was bundled out and into another cart drawn by a couple of horses, which at once set off at a gallop. Jack was placed on a seat between his two guards, and in this position was driven through Pretoria and up to the Government Buildings, his slouch hat and general appearance attracting no attention. He was now forced to descend and enter the building, where he was ushered into a small room, unlighted save for one electric lamp, which swung from the ceiling just above a leather-covered desk, littered with maps and papers, and behind which, leaning back in an arm-chair, sat President Kruger himself, seemingly half-asleep, and with his fat hands clasped together in his lap.

On one side of the president sat a big, burly man with a rugged, white-bearded, and not unpleasing face, whom Jack at once recognised as General Joubert, commandant of all the Boer forces, and, next to the president, the most powerful man in the Transvaal. Jack was placed in front of the table and remained silent, glaring defiantly and boldly at the man who, if report spoke true, was at once the most artful diplomat and the most consummate conspirator in the world.

There was some conversation in the Boer tongue, which Jack could not follow, as he had only picked up a few words as yet. Then Joubert addressed him in English, acting as interpreter between him and Paul Kruger, as the latter had such an intense dislike for anything British that he even pretended to be ignorant of the language.