This "nest" had been surprised and taken possession of by the English while five of the spies were in Pretoria, and they, cut off from their own people as they were, were unable to escape. One or two attempts were made, but the men were fired on and they had to abandon the idea for the present. The curious part of this story is that these men (one can hardly call them spies) were Pretoria men who had escaped to the Skurvebergen for the first time only three weeks previously, and had gone backwards and forwards several times with small necessaries. One of the five, a man whose name I cannot mention here, for the sake of what is to follow, had been so often, and was so much at home both in Pretoria and the Skurvebergen, that his dearest friends did not know to which part of the country he really belonged! Well, he was in a nice predicament now! The house in which he was being harboured, with one of his friends, was unfortunately suspect. He could not remain there, neither could he escape from town. Some one came to Harmony in great distress. What was to be done with those two men? To what place of refuge could they be moved that night? The visitor looked imploringly at Mrs. van Warmelo as if he expected her to offer Harmony, but she, mindful of Mr. Botha's warning, did nothing of the kind. "Death is staring them in the face," the visitor continued. "I don't know what to do!" Hansie, who knew the visitor well and trusted him implicitly, then pleaded with her mother--to no avail, Mrs. van Warmelo remaining firmly obdurate, and saying distinctly, for the edification of her visitor, "I have never harboured a spy, and I hope I never shall." When the good man had departed, in sore disappointment, Hansie grumbled a good deal and said it was all very fine to assist these Secret Service men when there was no danger in doing so, but her mother took no notice of her for the rest of the day, and subsequent events proved that she had acted wisely in refusing to harbour men unknown to her. What became of them at the time she did not know, and a few weeks elapsed before the crushing sequel to this escapade became known. CHAPTER XXI FLIPPIE AND CO. "Was there no fear of betrayal through the servants at Harmony?" I have often been asked since the war, and this reminds me that a short introduction to the other inmates of the property will be necessary for the reader's benefit and understanding. The lower portion of Harmony, through which the Aapies river runs, was occupied by Italian gardeners, who employed a varying number of Kaffir labourers in the extensive fruit and vegetable gardens. The upper part, on which the house stood, was entirely under Mrs. van Warmelo's management. No white servants were kept, the domestic staff consisting of native gardeners, a stable-boy, and a house-boy, neither was there a single female domestic, either white or black, on the place. One day a small white son of the soil presented himself and asked for work.