iously. 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.

Now I have only mentioned this business of the Annexation and the
part you played in it, because it was on that occasion that I
became acquainted with Anscombe. For you have nothing to do with
this story which is about the destruction of the Zulus, the
accomplishment of the vengeance of Zikali the wizard at the kraal
named Finished, and incidentally, the love affairs of two people
in which that old wizard took a hand, as I did to my sorrow.

It happened that Mr. Anscombe had ridden on ahead of his wagons
which could not arrive at Pretoria for a day or two, and as he
found it impossible to get accommodation at the European or
elsewhere, I offered to let him sleep in mine, or rather
alongside in a tent I had. He accepted and soon we became very
good friends. Before the day was out I discovered that he had
served in a cra