Telegrams were sent right and left, but there was something strange about the whole affair, and no satisfactory answers could be got until five days after the first tidings had reached Harmony. The prisoner was at Potchefstroom. Two more days of suspense and a note from Major Hoskins came, enclosing a telegram--"Van Warmelo leaving to-morrow for Fort Johannesburg." Great rejoicings! The women had begun to fear that their hero had been whisked away to some remote portion of the globe, without one word from them. General Maxwell's letters of introduction acted like a charm when presented at the various military departments in the Golden City. Colonel Mackenzie, the Military Governor, gave the women a letter of introduction to the O.C. troops, who directed them to the Provost-Marshal, Captain Short, informing them that they would find him at his office in the Fort. The Provost-Marshal did not know that more prisoners from Ventersdorp were expected that day. He thought there must be some mistake--unless--yes, there would be another train at 5 o'clock that afternoon. The ladies were advised to call again on Sunday morning and drove to Heath's Hotel, where they had taken up their quarters. How quiet and deserted the Golden City looked! How bleak and desolate, with the first breath of winter upon it! Poor Hansie had a shocking cold, and as she drove through the silent streets with her mother all the miseries of the past eighteen months came crowding into her aching heart and throbbing brain. What would the meeting be like to-morrow? Would he be changed? And what would he have to tell? The question still remained whether he would be allowed to tell them anything about the war at all---- Suddenly a brilliant thought flashed into Hansie's mind. "Oh, mother, let us go to the Braamfontein Station and see the train arrive. I know we won't be allowed to speak to him, but we may at least wave our hands and _look_ at him." Her mother was delighted with the thought, and at 4 o'clock that afternoon they took a cab to Braamfontein Station. The train had been delayed, and would be in at 6 instead of 5 o'clock, so they were told, but, for fear of having been misinformed, they decided to wait at the station. Cold, dusty, pitiless, the keen wind blew on that unfriendly platform. There was no ladies' waiting room--in fact, it seemed as if the rooms had all been utilised for other, perhaps military, purposes. It is incredible the amount of suffering that can be crowded into one hour of waiting! Thank God, at last the train steamed in. Armed troops and an unusually large number of passengers alighted on the platform, but there was not a prisoner to be seen. The desperate women walked up and down, keenly scrutinising every face they passed, until they heard a well-known, highly excited voice calling out "Mother! Mother!" to them from behind. They turned and saw their hero tumbling from the train, an armed Tommy at his heels.