Part 11 (1/2)
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.”