Part 3 (2/2)

'I've already thought of that,' he said, and going to the writing-table he drew a little plan on a sheet of paper 'That lane runs down from the Kurdish Bazaar in Galata to the ferry of Ratchik Half-way down on the left-hand side is a cafe kept by a Greek called Kuprasso Behind the cafe is a garden, surrounded by high walls which were parts of the old Byzantine Theatre At the end of the garden is a shanty called the Garden-house of Sulia hell and God knohat else It's not a place for respectable people, but the ends of the earth converge there and no questions are asked That's the best spot I can think of for aby the fire, the night was raw, and it seemed the hour for whisky-punch I made a brew for Sandy and myself and boiled soe?' I asked 'You're all right, Sandy?'

'I know German fairly well; and I can pass anywhere as a Turk The first will do for eavesdropping and the second for ordinary business'

'And you?' I asked Blenkiron

'I was left out at Pentecost,' he said 'I regret to confess I have no gift of tongues But the part I have chosen for et I'reat American Republic'

'You haven't told us your own line, dick,' Sandy said

'I a a neutral, it won't be a very cushi+oned journey'

Sandy looked grave

'That sounds pretty desperate Is your Gerh to pass as a native But officially I shall not understand one word I shall be a Boer from Western Cape Colony: one of Maritz's old lot who after a bit of trouble has got through Angola and reached Europe I shall talk Dutch and nothing else And, my hat! I shall be pretty bitter about the British There's a powerful lot of good sords in the taal I shall know all about Africa, and be panting to get another whack at the verdoanda show or to Egypt, and I shall take care to go by Constantinople If I'm to deal with the Mohammedan natives they're bound to shohat hand they hold At least, that's the way I look at it'

We filled our glasses-two of punch and one of an to laugh, and I joined in The sense of hopeless folly again descended on me The best plans we could ht of the Sahara or the old lady ould have stopped the Atlantic with a brooht with sympathy of little Saint Teresa

CHAPTER THREE

Peter Pienaar

Our various departures were unassuht in his subterranean fashi+on, now in the British Museu con Office, butHe left finally on Deceer for Cairo Once there I knew the King's Messenger would disappear, and some queer Oriental ruffian take his place It would have been impertinence in me to inquire into his plans He was the real professional, and I was only the dabbler

Blenkiron was a different matter Sir Walter told avethe sportsned with his nan policy, and the speech of soave him his cue He declared that he had been heart and soul with the British at the start, but that he was reluctantly coe his views He said our blockade of Germany had broken all the laws of God and humanity, and he reckoned that Britain was now the worst exponent of Prussianis That letter made a fine racket, and the paper that printed it had a roith the Censor But that was only the beginning of Mr Blenkiron's caue of Deht that Ger her feelings He addressed aunder their auspices, which was broken up by the crowd, but not before John S had got off his chest a lot of a stuff I wasn't there, but a man as told me that he never heard such clotted nonsense He said that Ger the freedom of the seas, and that Aer menace to the peace of the world than the Kaiser's arht differently, but he was an honest man and not afraid to face facts The oration closed suddenly, when he got a brussels-sprout in the eye, at which my friend said he swore in a very unpacifist style

After that he wrote other letters to the Press, saying that there was no s backed hiot kicked out of the Savoy There was an agitation to get him deported, and questions were asked in Parlian Affairs said his depart to think that Blenkiron was carrying his tomfoolery too far, so I went to see Sir Walter, but he told h”,' he said, 'and he knows very hat he is about We have officially requested him to leave, and he sails frooes, and we hope to provoke more outbreaks He is a very capable fellow'

The last I saw of him was on the Saturday afternoon when I met him in St james's Street and offered to shake hands He told me that my uniform was a pollution, and made a speech to a set into a taxi As he departed there was just the suspicion of a wink in his left eye On Monday I read that he had gone off, and the papers observed that our shores ell quit of him

I sailed on Deceentine that was due to put in at Lisbon I had of course to get a Foreign Office passport to leave England, but after that my connection with the Government ceased All the details of ood jus fro, and my clothes were the relics of row for sorows fast, I went on board with the kind of hairy chin you will see on the young Boer My name was now Brandt, Cornelis Brandt-at least so my passport said, and passports never lie

There were just two other passengers on that beastly boat, and they never appeared till ere out of the Bay I was pretty bad ed to move about all the time, for the frowst in my cabin would have sickened a hippo The old tub took two days and a night to waddle froed and we ca very like sual were all blue and yellow like the Kalahari, and before we et I had ever left Rhodesia There was a Dutch the sailors ho' and 'Good evening' in broken English to the captain, that was about all the talking I did on the cruise

We dropped anchor off the quays of Lisbon on a shi+ny blue ot to be very wary I did not leave the shi+p with the shore-going boat, but made a leisurely breakfast Then I strolled on deck, and there, just casting anchor in the middle of the stream, was another shi+p with a blue and white funnel I kneell I calculated that a ola Nothing could better answerfor a friend, and come on shore from her, so that anyone in Lisbon who chose to be curious would think I had landed straight frouese Africa

I hailed one of the adjacent ruffians, and got into his rowboat, with my kit We reached the vessel-they called her the Henry the Navigator-just as the first shore-boat was leaving The crowd in it were all Portuguese, which suited my book

But when I went up the ladder the first man I met was old Peter Pienaar

Here was a piece of sheer monumental luck Peter had opened his eyes and his ', when I shut him up