Finished | Page 7

gave a printed document to Mr.
Osborn who put on his glasses and began to read in a low voice which
few could hear, and I noticed that his hand trembled. Presently he grew
confused, lost his place, found it, lost it again and came to a full stop.
"A nervous-natured man," remarked Mr. Anscombe. "Perhaps he thinks
that those gentlemen are going to shoot."
"That wouldn't trouble him," I answered, who knew him well. "His
fears are purely mental."
That was true since I know that this same Sir Melmoth Osborn as he is
now, as I have told in the book I called Child of Storm, swam the
Tugela alone to watch the battle of Indondakasuka raging round him,
and on another occasion killed two Kaffirs rushing at him with a right
and left shot without turning a hair. It was reading this paper that
paralyzed him, not any fear of what might happen.
There followed a very awkward pause such as occurs when a man
breaks down in a speech. The members of the Staff looked at him and
at each other, then behold! you, my friend, grabbed the paper from his
hand and went on reading it in a loud clear voice.

"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.
Now I have only mentioned this business of the Annexation and the
part you played in it, because it was on that occasion that