“Well this is a very small thing after all,” I protested. “I’m only afraid you will find the quarters a bit rough.”
But this they declared was nothing. It only remained to fix the day. They would enjoy it above all things, they repeated.
“You’ll have the same room as last time, Mr Glanton,” said Mrs Sewin, as she bade me good-night.
“Why, I was just thinking of going home,” I protested.
But this was over-ruled, and that unanimously. The Major wanted to have a talk with me, and couldn’t do it comfortably if I was in a hurry to be off all the time. Besides—what did it matter? Nobody would be wanting to do a deal during the night, so I might just as well remain where I was, and so on. Well, I didn’t want much pressing, and it was obvious my welcome hadn’t worn thin just yet.
“Let’s take the grog out on to the stoep, uncle,” said Falkner. “It’s cooler there.”
“What d’you think, Glanton?” said the Major, when we were comfortably seated outside, each with a glass of grog before him and a pipe of good Magaliesberg—than which there is no better tobacco in the world—in full blast. “Why is it I can’t do anything with these damned fellows of yours? Now in India I could make any sort of native do anything I wanted, and no bother about it. He had to, don’t you know.”
“Exactly, Major, he had to and these haven’t. Wherein lies all the difference.”
“I believe I was a damned fool to come and squat here at all,” he growled.
“I don’t agree with you, Major,” I said. “You’ve only got to try and understand them, and they’re all right. I don’t mean to say they’re perfect, no one is, but make the best of them. To begin with, learn the language.”