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 pass 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.