The Petticoat Commando Part 48

"I did not recognise my wife on that photo--she has become an old, old woman.... Sometimes on commando we actually enjoy ourselves. You must not think that it is all hards.h.i.+p and trouble! I gave a concert, quite a good one, on the President's birthday, and occasionally, when we come to a farm where there are still some girls left, we take them out riding and driving."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

A SILENT DEPARTURE. "FARE THEE WELL"

As the afternoon wore on, an extreme nervousness came over all at Harmony, a feeling of tense anxiety which no words can describe, and was betrayed in a restless flitting through the house, arranging something here, peering through the blinds at the camp of the Military Mounted Police.

Unconsciously voices were lowered and final instructions given in hushed tones.

Only a few hours remained of the Captain's visit to Harmony and much had still to be arranged.

The tension was broken by the arrival of Mrs. Malan, with large parcels containing the articles of clothing, etc., ordered by Naude--hats, boots, riding-suits, soap, matches, salt, and a number of the small necessities of life. This gave the women something to do, for everything had to be sorted and made up into smaller parcels as compactly as possible, while Naude donned a surprising quant.i.ty of clothing and disposed of various articles about his person.

In the excitement of the moment Captain Naude, while he was dressing, must have forgotten to take off a waistcoat lent to him by Mrs. van Warmelo and clearly marked D.S. van Warmelo.

This caused her a great deal of anxiety for some days after the departure of the spies.

Had Naude reached the commandos in safety or had he fallen into the hands of the enemy with the tell-tale waistcoat on?

They wondered and speculated, but as the days went by and no startling reports convulsed the town, they once again settled down--not to the same old sense of security as far as they were personally concerned, but to the comforting conviction that all was well with their friends.

Their own fate--but this is coming presently.

Mrs. Malan did not stay long, and there were fortunately no unexpected visitors that afternoon--except, strange to say, the English colonel who had all but ceased his visits and was on this occasion entertained by Hansie and her mother in turn.

His presence gave a great sense of security!

Hansie walked with Mrs. Malan to the gate, where her carriage was waiting for her, and the sergeant-major, slowly sauntering past and saluting to the girl as she gave the coachman her directions, little knew that the words spoken in Dutch were:

"You must be here at 7 to-night, and bring your residential pa.s.s without fail."

Van der Westhuizen, with the bandaged arm, was going to help to carry their parcels through the bush and escort the three men through the most dangerous parts of the town.

When all the preparations were complete there was an hour or two to spare before the other men, under cover of darkness, should join Naude near the six willow trees at the foot of the orchard. That time was spent in making plans for the future.

"Promise me that you will never take in strange men," Naude said earnestly. "Do not even harbour any one who professes to come from me unless he gives a watchword. What shall our watchword be?"

They thought for a few moments, and then Mrs. van Warmelo said:

"'Appelkoos' [apricots], because you came to us in the apricot season!"

"So be it." This was agreed upon.

"And if anything should happen to us before you come again?" Hansie inquired. "By what sign will you know that we have been taken and that Harmony is a pitfall instead of a refuge?"

Again they pondered. This was indeed a serious problem, for in the event of an arrest they would not be allowed to see or communicate with any of their friends, and there would be no possible chance of sending out a warning.

After a great deal of discussion it was decided that they should use one of the posts of the enclosure dividing the upper part of Harmony, where the orchard was, from the lower, on which the vegetable gardens of the Italians were.

On one of the posts they would, if they had time to do so, fasten a small piece of plank, and this would serve as a warning to the men not to approach the house.

In case the enemy was not considerate enough to give them time to put up signs and signals, it was agreed to have this done at dead of night by one of the few remaining men in town, van der Westhuizen for instance, at the first news of their arrest.

This arrangement eased their minds of some anxiety, and the rest of the time was spent in quietly chatting about other matters.

"I suppose you cannot let my wife know that I have been here and am well?" Naude asked.

"I am afraid not," Mrs. van Warmelo answered thoughtfully.

"We know no one in the Camp in which she is, and her correspondence will no doubt be closely watched, but we could write an ordinary, cheerful letter, urging her to be hopeful and strong."

"Thank you very much," he answered gratefully, "but do not use your own names on any account. Get other people to write, people less implicated than yourselves."

Towards 7 o'clock Hansie walked slowly down to the willows, the faithful Carlo by her side, wistfully looking into her face. Did he feel the suppressed agitation, the unrest in the air?

I do believe Carlo knew and felt every changing emotion in his young mistress, and sympathised or rejoiced accordingly.

There was no one in the garden.

Hansie waited ten minutes, twenty, half an hour, then she went back to the house.

There the form of the tall young man in his English officer's uniform, from which the traces of blood had been removed as well as possible, was to be seen walking to and fro in restless nervousness.

"Have the others not come yet?" he exclaimed impatiently. "Where can they be so late?"

"I think it is too light still for them to be abroad," Hansie answered; "you should have made the appointment for 8 o'clock."

"But then the moon will be up," he objected. "I hope they will be here soon."

Hansie once more walked to the six willows, and the next half-hour was spent in a restless pacing up and down between the orange trees of the avenue.

"Will they never come? Have they fallen into some unforeseen pitfall?

"At this, the most critical moment of our whole adventure, when all arrangements seem to have come to a smooth and successful termination, must our plans be frustrated, and a b.l.o.o.d.y encounter be the climax?"

Hansie walked boldly towards the Military Camp, whistling to Carlo and admonis.h.i.+ng him thus audibly:

"Why can't you leave the kittens alone, Carlo?" Then more softly: "A peaceful serenity pervades the camp. Evidently nothing brewing here!"

With a lighter heart she went back to the house, but one glance at the face of the Captain was enough, and once more she sped down the garden-path to the ill-fated trysting-place.

As she neared the spot she heard no sound of life and her heart once more sank, but only for a moment. Suddenly she started violently.

"What is this?"

The place seemed in a moment alive with silent figures. From the depths of the overhanging willow branches they emerged, one by one, and approached the tense form of the girl as she stood immovable, with straining eyes trying to distinguish the moving, silent figures in the darkness.