e it to me. But never mind that, I got
it, as you know, and it will be my care to escort you safely to
Mooifontein."

Jess bowed, and Muller turned to John, who had risen from his chair and
was standing some two paces away, and addressed him. "Captain Niel," he
said, "you and I have had some differences in the past. I hope that the
service I am doing you will prove that I, for one, bear no malice. I
will go farther. As I told you before, I was to blame in that affair in
the inn-yard at Wakkerstroom. Let us shake hands and end what we cannot
mend," and he stepped forward and extended his hand.

Jess turned to see what would happen. She knew the whole story, and
hoped he would take the man's hand; next, remembering their position,
she hoped that he would.

John turned colour a little, then he drew himself up deliberately and
put his hand behind his back.

"I am very sorry, Mr. Muller," he said, "but even in our present
position I cannot shake hands with you; you will know why."

Jess saw a flush, bred of the furious passion which was his weak point,
spread itself over the Boer's face.

"I do _not_ know, Captain Niel. Be so good as to explain."

"Very well, I will," said John calmly. "You tried to assassinate me."

"What do you mean?" thundered Muller.

"What I say. You shot at me twice under pretence of firing at a
buck. Look here!"--and he took up his soft black hat, which he still
wore--"here is the mark of one of your bullets! I did not know about it
then; I do now, and I decline to shake hands with you."

By this time Muller's fury had got the better of him. "You shall answer
for that, you English liar!" he said, at the same time clapping his
hand to his belt, in which his hunting-knife was placed. Thus for a few
seconds they stood face to face. John never flinched or moved. There he
stood, quiet and strong as some old stubby tree, his plain honest face
and watchful eye affording a strange contrast to the beautiful but
demoniacal countenance of the great Dutchman. Presently he spoke in
measured tones.

"I have proved myself a better man that yourself once, Frank Muller, and
if necessary I will again, notwithstanding that knife of yours. But, in
the meantime, I wish to remind you that I have a pass signed by your own
General guaranteeing our safety. And now, Mr. Muller," with a flash of
the blue eyes, "I am ready." The Dutchman drew the knife, but replaced
it in its sheath. For a moment he was minded to en