ing," the girl's voice shook with
ill-controlled emotion.

"There were five or six other men with them. They arrived at about
nine in the morning and stayed until half-past four that afternoon.
They had lunch with Lord Kitchener. A fine man the General is, well
set up, big and broad-shouldered."

"Yes, I know." Hansie _could not_ withhold those words.

"You know!" he exclaimed in great surprise. "Do _you_ know General
Botha?"

"Yes, indeed. And what is more, he is _my_ General."

The soldier looked at her in ludicrous amazement.

"Are you a Boer? You don't look like one, and I never heard any one
speak better English."

"I don't know whether what you are saying is meant as a compliment to
me, but I don't like being told that I don't look like a Boer, and I
certainly would not be pleased if you took me for an Englishwoman."

The poor Tommy looked troubled and muttered something about "no
offence meant, I am sure."

"Now please go on and tell me more about the General. Did you hear
anything of what he said to Lord Kitchener?"

"Nothing, miss, except when he went away. They shook hands very
hearty-like and the General said, 'Good-bye; I hope you will have good
luck.' That was all."

"Good luck! What do you think he could have meant?"

"We don't know, miss, but we think he meant good luck in Natal, for
Lord Kitchener went yesterday and I hear there is some talk of peace."

Hansie sat silent for a long time, turning these things over in her
mind.

"But what is all this accursed war about, miss? We soldiers know
nothing except that we have to fight when we are ordered to do so."

"Of course you know nothing. An English soldier is nothing but a
fighting machine, not allowed to think or act for himself. Discipline
is a grand thing, but Heaven protect a man from the discipline of the
British army. The war? I will tell you if you want to know. The war is
a cruel and unjust attempt to rob us of our rich and independent land,
and England is the tool in base and unscrupulous hands. You suffer
too, I know, and all my heart goes out in sympathy to the bereaved and
broken-hearted Englishwomen across the seas. Their only comfort is
their firm belief that their heroes died a noble death for freedom and
justice. Did they but know the truth! They died to satisfy the lust
for gain and greed of gold of mining magnates on the Rand."

"Suffer, miss! As long as I live I will not forget that march from the
colony, through Bl