"The officers! When at last the water-carts came, we had to stand aside and watch while bucketsful were being carried into the tents for their _baths_!" There was silence again. "If I were an English soldier, I would run away," Hansie said. "I've had enough, God knows, and when I get home I mean to leave the Army and take up my old work--carpentering. The war can't last very long. England is mighty--but I wish the bloomin' capitalists would come and do the fighting, if they want this country and its gold-mines." "There are only a 'few marauding bands' left, so the English say," Hansie answered bitterly. "But remember what I tell you now. South Africa will be soaked in blood and tears, and a hundred thousand hearts will be broken here and in your country, before the mighty British Army has subdued those 'few marauding bands.'" The soldier's face grew troubled once again. It was a good, strong face--a patient face--and it bore the marks of much suffering, endured in silence and alone. He rose and took off his cap. "You've been very good to me, miss. I wish I could be of some use to you." "Run away from Lord Kitchener!" she said, laughing. "I would be very sorry indeed if you fell by the hand of one of my brothers." He looked at her sympathetically. "How many brothers have you in the field?" "God only knows," she answered sadly. "There were two left when last we heard of them. The third has been made a prisoner." The soldier took his leave and Hansie lost herself in reverie. And when at last she roused herself, she wrote with rapid pen: "Two Tommies have been in our garden, catching butterflies----" We know the rest. * * * * * That afternoon about ten or twelve young people assembled in the garden and were later joined by several members of the Diplomatic Corps--Consul Cinatti, Consul Aubert, and Consul Nieuwenhuis, the most frequent visitors at Harmony. _The_ topic of conversation was connected with General Botha's visit to Lord Kitchener in Middelburg, and when Hansie told her friends what she had heard from the soldier that morning, they expressed their conviction that every word he said must have been true. And the latest _official_ war news, in rhyme, the dispatch from Kitchener to the Secretary of State for War, came in for its share of attention, occasioning no small amount of merriment. Oh, happy afternoon! Oh, memories sweet! Oh, long departed days of good fellowship and mutual understanding! Bright spots of gold and crimson in our sky of lead! * * * * * Mrs. van Warmelo never at any time encouraged evening visitors. They were all early risers at Harmony and their life could not be adapted to the artificial, the unnatural strain of modern civilisation.