d the matter then and
there, but suddenly, even in his rage, he remembered that there was a
witness.

"A pass from the General!" he said, forgetting his caution in his fury.
"Much good a pass from the General is likely to be to you. You are in
my power, man! If I choose to close my hand I can crush you. But
there--there," he added, checking himself, "perhaps I ought to make
allowances. You are one of a defeated people, and no doubt are sore, and
say what you do not mean. Anyhow, there is an end of it, especially in
the presence of a lady. Some day we may be able to settle our trouble
like men, Captain Niel; till then, with your permission, we will let it
drop."

"Quite so, Mr. Muller," said John, "only you must not ask me to shake
hands with you."

"Very good, Captain Niel; and now, if you will allow me, I will tell
the boy to get your horses in; we must be getting on if we are to reach
Heidelberg to-night." And he bowed himself out, feeling that once more
his temper had endangered the success of his plans. "Curse the fellow!"
he said to himself: "he is what those English call a gentleman. It was
brave of him to refuse to take my hand when he is in my power."

"John," said Jess, as soon as the door had closed, "I am afraid of that
man. If I had understood that he had anything to do with the pass I
would not have taken it. I thought that the writing was familiar to me.
Oh dear! I wish we had stopped at Pretoria."

"What can't be cured must be endured," said John again. "The only thing
to do is to make the best of it, and get on as we can. You will be
all right anyhow, but he hates me like poison. I suppose that it is on
account of Bessie."

"Yes, that's it," said Jess: "he is, or was, madly in love with Bessie."

"It is curious to think that a man like that can be in love," remarked
John as he lit his pipe, "but it only shows what queer mixtures people
are. I say, Jess, if this fellow hates me so much, what made him give me
the pass, eh? What's his game?"

Jess shook her head as she answered, "I don't know, John; I don't like
it."

"I suppose he can't mean to murder me; he did try it on once, you know."

"Oh no, John," she answered with a sort of cry, "not that."

"Well, I don't know that it would matter much," he said, with an
approach to cheerfulness which was rather a failure. "It would save
one a deal of worry, and only anticipate things a bit. But there, I
frightened you, and I dare say that, for the p