"General Botha!" Mrs. van Warmelo exclaimed. "But he is not in the north. He is on the High Veld, somewhere south-east of Transvaal, and much easier to communicate with than if he had been in Zoutpansberg."

"How could one get a message through to him?" Miss F. asked, and her hostess decided to beat about the bush no longer.

"Do you not think it would be better to trust me and tell me what you wish to do? I would be better able to answer and help you."

Miss F. then turned to her brother and said:

"Mrs. van Warmelo is quite right. Tell her everything." Upon which the young man explained that he had been sent out on a secret mission connected with a consignment of dynamite which lay buried on the eastern frontier. News had been received in Europe that there was a dearth of explosives and, consequently, a temporary cessation of adventures on the railway lines, and it was for the purpose of communicating the fact that this consignment had arrived that he had travelled to Pretoria via the East Coast and over Durban. How to get into touch with some reliable person in Pretoria who was in direct communication with the Boer forces had been his greatest problem, and he was grateful indeed for Mrs. van Warmelo's guarded promise of a.s.sistance.

"I cannot tell you anything now," she said, "but if you will leave the matter in my hands I promise that you will hear from me to-morrow morning."

Mr. F. then told her that he had brought with him a small quant.i.ty of the dynamite, made up into two separate parcels, non-explosive apart, but dangerous when mixed together in a certain way. He had been deputed to instruct the Boers how to mix these ingredients.

He had with him, too, a large prospecting hammer, the long handle of which was bound with leather and closely studded with nails. But the handle was _hollow_ and contained a number of detonators, to be sent out to the Boers for blowing up trains and for damaging the railway lines and bridges. One other article of interest he had brought with him, a huge Parisian hat for his sister, and he told Mrs. van Warmelo how the polite inspector of goods on the frontier had held the lovely headpiece up, admiring the pink roses nestling in black lace and chiffon, and little dreaming that he was handling many yards of dynamite fuse.

"A lovely hat!" he exclaimed when he put it back into the box, without having noticed the _weight_, which alone would have betrayed it to any one familiar with ladies' headgear.

Early next morning Mrs. van Warmelo sallied forth to the house of her confederate, Mr. Willem Botha, at the other end of the town. He listened to her story attentively and said, "There are spies in town at this very moment, and they are leaving for the General's commando to-night."

This was good news indeed, and Mrs. van Warmelo immediately made an appointment with Mr. Botha to meet Mr. F. at Harmony that afternoon.

On her way home she called at Miss F.'s house, informing her of the appointment.

That afternoon at Harmony a map was closely studied by the two men and the exact spot pointed out where the dynamite lay buried, while Mrs.

van Warmelo packed the detonators one by one in cotton wool in a small box, which was conveyed to Mr. Hattingh's house, where the spies were being harboured. In the meantime the entire crown and brim of the lovely Parisian hat had been unpicked, and that night the dynamite fuse, wound closely round the body of a spy, went out to the commandos, with the small box of detonators.

Soon after this Mr. F. returned to Europe as he had come, via Natal and Delagoa Bay, well satisfied that his mission should have been accomplished with so much ease.

What became of the sample of dynamite my reader will see in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVII

THE FIRST INTERVIEW WITH SPIES, INTRODUCING TWO HEROES

Among other things, Mr. Willem Botha warned his friends at Harmony against having a single incriminating doc.u.ment in the house.

"Detection means death for all concerned," he said one day, "but without written evidence the worst the enemy can do is to send you out of the country or to a Concentration Camp. Destroy every paper of a dangerous nature you may have, as I have done, and then you need never feel anxious."

This wise counsel was all very well, but Hansie had a mania for "collecting," and she could not make up her mind to destroy what might become a valuable relic of the war.

She therefore had her diaries and white envelopes removed to some safe hiding-place and began a new book for future use.

In this book, in everyday pen and ink, she entered the ordinary events of the day, but in another she wrote in lemon-juice her adventures with the spies and all information of an incriminating character. Both books lay open on her writing-table--the "White Diary," as she called it, with its clean and spotless pages, with only here and there an almost invisible mark to show how far she had got, and the misleading record in pen and ink to throw the English off their guard in the event of an unexpected search of the house.

The white diary gave a sense of security and satisfaction at the thought of the secrets it contained for future reference, and it was only after eight years that portions of the writing became visible to the naked eye.

A few hours' exposure to the sun's rays, and the application of a hot iron here and there, made it sufficiently legible to be rewritten word for word, and it is to the existence of this diary that we owe our accurate information of what otherwise would have been lost for ever.

I may add here that it was only the re-reading of the White Diary after so many years, and the surprising amount of half-forgotten information Hansie found in it, that suggested the idea to her mind of publishing its contents in the form of a story.

It was on the morning of July 17th, 1901, that Mr. Botha was seen coming up the garden path between the rows of orange trees at Harmony, with his jauntiest air, by which it was evident that he was the bearer of news from the front. Briefly he informed our heroines that two spies had come in the previous night and wished to see Mrs. van Warmelo about certain communications sent out by her to General Botha a few weeks back. They were staying with Mrs. Joubert, widow of the late Commandant-General P.J. Joubert, and were leaving again the next night with dispatches.

In the interview with them at 9 o'clock the next morning Hansie made her first acquaintance with Captain Naude, who plays the princ.i.p.al part in the story here recorded, and whose courage and resource gave him an unquestioned position of leadership.

[Ill.u.s.tration: W.J. BOTHA]

Good reader, do you know what it means to be an unwilling captive in the hands of your enemy for more than a year, and then to find yourself in the presence of men, healthy, brown, and hearty, _your own men_, straight from the glorious freedom of their life in the veld?

Can you realise the sensation of shaking hands with them for the first time and the atmosphere of wholesome unrestraint and unconscious dignity which greeted you in their presence? Well, I do, and it would be useless trying to tell any one what it is like, for those who know will never forget, and those who don't will never understand.

In Mrs. Joubert's drawing-room they were waiting for their visitors next day, Captain Naude and his private secretary, Mr. Greyling--the former a tall, fair man, slightly built and boyish-looking and with a n.o.ble, intelligent face, the latter a mere youth, but evidently shrewd and brave.

The first eager questions naturally were for news of Fritz, the youngest of the van Warmelos and the last remaining in the field since the capture of his brother Dietlof in April of that year.

Mr. Greyling said that he had seen Fritz a few weeks back in perfect health and in the best of spirits, but barefoot and in rags. His trousers were so tattered that he might as well have been without, and Mr. Greyling had provided him with another pair. With unkempt beard and long hair he seemed to justify the jest about a "gorilla" war with which some of our enemies amused themselves.

When the merriment occasioned by this description of the young warrior had subsided, the conversation turned on more serious matters.

The Captain had with him a full report of the last conference held by the generals, and a copy of the resolution pa.s.sed by them and President Steyn, a unanimous determination to stand together until their independence had been secured. What the ultimate destination of these doc.u.ments was I am not at liberty to say, but copies of them were despatched, smuggled through in one way or another to President Kruger.

Captain Naude also brought greetings from General Botha and told Mrs.

van Warmelo how pleased the General had been with the news she had sent him on a previous occasion.

In order to explain the nature of the business which had brought the Captain into Pretoria again, it will be necessary to turn our attention for a moment to the matters referred to in the previous chapter in connection with which he had once more risked the dangers of a visit to the capital.

"Yes," in answer to his inquiries, "the dynamite has arrived and is at Delagoa Bay. A sample will be brought to this house to-day, with instructions for mixing it."

This was glad news for the two men, and Hansie soon after took her leave, promising to come back in the course of the morning with the dynamite.

Her manner was rather mysterious, and she took some unnecessary turns, to make sure of not being followed, before she reached the house where the dangerous article had been hidden. There a brown-paper parcel was handed to her with a brief, "Read the instructions and destroy them," and she was left alone in a quiet drawing-room.

On opening the parcel she found a small bottle of yellowish powder, ostensibly a remedy for colic, to be used in the way prescribed, and a pot of paste purporting to be an excellent salve for chapped hands.

The two, when mixed together in a certain way, made up one pound of dynamite and had pa.s.sed safely through the hands of the inspector of goods on the frontier.

As Hansie was cycling back to Mrs. Joubert's house with her precious parcel, she had to pa.s.s the Military Governor's offices on Church Square, and the thought occurred to her that this was a fitting opportunity to interview General Maxwell regarding her tour of inspection to the Concentration Camps, and at the same time to procure a permit for the Vocal Society to hold a charity concert.

"Why not go in now?" she thought. "There is some fun in going to see the Governor with one pound of dynamite in one's hands, and it would save me the trouble of coming into town again. Another thing: if I _am_ being watched or followed, I am sure there can be nothing like a visit to Government Buildings to disarm the most suspicious."

Arrived at the Governor's office, she noticed with some amus.e.m.e.nt that the urchin at the door wrote on the card, under her name, "Nature of business: permission _to have a consort_." (This was indeed to come later!)

The German Consul was engaged with General Maxwell and Hansie had a long time to wait, and when at last she was shown in she found the affable Governor in a very bad temper and his A.D.C., Major Hoskins, looking anything but comfortable.

The former shook hands and greeted her with a curt, "Well, what is the matter with you now?"

"That is very unkind of you, General," she said.