“That young man has plenty of nerve,” said Mr. Anscombe.

“Yes,” I replied in a whisper.  “Quite right though.  Would have been a bad omen if the thing had come to a stop.”

Well, there were no more breakdowns, and at last the long document was finished and the Transvaal annexed.  The Britishers began to cheer but stopped to listen to the formal protest of the Boer Government, if it could be called a government when everything had collapsed and the officials were being paid in postage stamps.  I can’t remember whether this was read by President Burgers himself or by the officer who was called State Secretary.  Anyway, it was read, after which there came an awkward pause as though people were waiting to see something happen.  I looked round at the Boers who were muttering and handling their rifles uneasily.  Had they found a leader I really think that some of the wilder spirits among them would have begun to shoot, but none appeared and the crisis passed.

The crowd began to disperse, the English among them cheering and throwing up their hats, the Dutch with very sullen faces.  The Commissioner’s staff went away as it had come, back to the building with blue gums in front of it, which afterwards became Government House, that is all except you.  You started across the square alone with a bundle of printed proclamations in your hand which evidently you had been charged to leave at the various public offices.

“Let us follow him,” I said to Mr. Anscombe.  “He might get into trouble and want a friend.”

He nodded and we strolled after you unostentatiously.  Sure enough you nearly did get into trouble.  In front of the first office door to which you came, stood a group of Boers, two of whom, big fellows, drew together with the evident intention of barring your way.

“Mynheeren,” you said, “I pray you to let me pass on the Queen’s business.”

They took no heed except to draw closer together and laugh insolently.  Again you made your request and again they laughed.  Then I saw you lift your leg and deliberately stamp upon the foot of one of the Boers.  He drew back with an exclamation, and for a moment I believed that he or his fellow was going to do something violent.  Perhaps they thought better of it, or perhaps they saw us two Englishmen behind and noticed Anscombe’s pistol.  At any rate you marched into the office triumphant and delivered your document.

“Neatly done,” said Mr. Anscombe.

“Rash,” I said, shaking my head, “very rash.  Well, he’s young and must be excused.”

But from that moment I took a great liking to you, my friend, perhaps because I wondered whether in your place I should have been daredevil enough to act in the same way.  For you see I am English, and I like to see an Englishman hold his own against odds and keep up the credit of the country.  Although, of course, I sympathized with the Boers who, through their own fault, were losing their land without a blow struck.  As you know well, for you were living near Majuba at the time, plenty of blows were struck afterwards, but of that business I cannot bear to write.  I wonder how it will all work out after I am dead and if I shall ever learn what happens in the end.