And Brenda knew that this was so, and she guessed too that Wilfred was chafing under his responsibility for her safety. She therefore stepped into a hansom with him. When they were rattling along Piccadilly she asked him if it was he who had called out that Van Zwieten was a spy. "Yes, it was I," admitted Wilfred, in a fiery tone. "And I should have liked to see the crowd go for the big brute." "I don't like Van Zwieten myself, as you know," Brenda said; "all the same, Wilfred, it is only fair to say he behaved very well over that old man." "He knew there was no danger, that the police were about. He wanted to show up as a hero in your eyes, Brenda. For my part, I wish he had been lynched for a spy. I hate the man." "People don't lynch now in England, Wilfred." "They would have done it to-day on small encouragement. It was lucky for Van Zwieten that he is a popular cricketer, and that they recognized him as such. Otherwise he would not have got off so easily. But I'll catch him yet!" "How you do hate him, Wilfred!" "Hate him! Of course I do. Here he is accepting the hospitality of England, and spying out all our weak points to use them against us should there be a war. I suspected him long ago from some words he let fall, and I have kept a watch on him ever since. He has haunted Woolwich, Portsmouth and Erith, and has made friends with privates and officers alike, and he has half a hundred creatures at his beck and call, who are poking and prying about. I dare say out at Pretoria they know more about England and her resources than those here whose duty and business it is. They will await the right moment, then they'll strike; and unless I'm much mistaken they'll strike pretty hard." "But we are not unprepared, Wilfred." The young man shook his head gloomily. "I myself have talked with many of our officers," he said, "and we are not so well armed as we should be. Since the Crimea, we have had no big war; and the number of easy victories we have had have made us over-confident. Of the valor of Englishmen I have no fear. They can fight as their fathers fought with true bulldog courage. But nowadays science as well as grit is needed for victory, and our War Office is so sleepy and tied up with red tape that it doesn't keep our armaments up to the mark as it should do. The Boers are armed with the Mauser rifle. Our troops--but there is no need to talk technically to you, Brenda. I can only say that if we have a war, it won't be the military promenade to Pretoria that many people expect it to be." "But the Transvaal is quite a small state, Wilfred."