Chapter Twenty Seven.
There was a task which, when he had little knowledge of the nearness and the overwhelming nature of the tragedy that had since befallen, Matheson had allocated to himself with every intention of going through with it; the task included fixing the guilt of incitement to rebellion on to Holman. He meant to bring Holman to account for his treachery.
Amid the hurried preparations for his wedding, which was to precede his enlistment for Home service, he had no thought of evading this task. It was inconvenient at the moment to give his time to outside matters; but the tracking down of this man—this German spy who for years had been fostering a spirit of hatred among the Boers to the end that these people whom his country was deluding would, when the hour struck, serve his country to their own undoing—the confronting him with his treachery and the bringing of him to justice was a matter of vital importance to him. In his desire to punish Holman he was moved primarily by resentment, fierce, bitter resentment that was mainly concerned with Honor, with the pernicious effect of this mischievous doctrine upon Honor’s warm responsive nature. It seemed to him that the punishment of Holman, the punishment of all those who had planned and assisted in this devil’s work, was an act of bare retribution, incomplete and wholly inadequate though the utmost punishment meted out to the individual could be in consideration of the evil resulting from the insidious poison inculcated for many years into the receptive minds of a simple and credulous people—a people labouring under a sense of past injustice. It had been an easy task for a nation accomplished in crooked measures, this sowing and untiring cultivation of the seed of rebellion. For years this work had been going forward in the Colony unsuspected. Germans who had lived on seemingly friendly relations with their English neighbours for nearly a lifetime had been steadily pursuing this system of intrigue, and secretly sowing dissension among the peoples of the country. Now the trouble had come to a head and the persons most criminally responsible had for the greater part fled to Europe.
So far as Matheson knew, Holman might also have gone. He had no knowledge of his whereabouts. The most likely source from whence to glean any information concerning him was the man’s own office in Johannesburg, though in all probability he would find the office deserted if he made the journey. There was, however, the clerk: if he could discover this youth he might possibly learn something of his employer’s movements. In any case it was worth the attempt.
He decided to start immediately; and found himself wondering how he should explain this abrupt journey to Brenda. Finally he decided to explain nothing, and left her to infer that business took him up the line. She was much occupied in getting ready for her marriage, and preparing to sail for Europe if necessary with her husband. If he served in France, she purposed serving also in some capacity behind the fixing line. It was understood between them that where he went she would follow whenever practicable. In all things they were to be comrades: only in the matter of Honor did he keep her outside his life. He had confided to her the essential facts in regard to his relations with Honor Krige; he did not deem it expedient after that to go into further detail. That part of his life was finished—he believed it to be finished; but a man cannot finish with a part of his life at will: life has a habit of facing about upon the person who would ignore it. It was so in Matheson’s case. When he had, as he fancied, closed this chapter which related to the past for ever, the chance breeze of an accidental encounter ruffled the pages and turned them bade.
On the day before he had arranged to go to Johannesburg he came face to face with Herman Nel in the fine oak avenue outside the Botanical Gardens. He was on his way to fulfil an appointment with Brenda; but when he saw Nel—Nel looking handsome and business-like in the serviceable uniform of the Union Defence Force—he forgot everything for the moment in sheer amaze at this unexpected meeting.
It was never clear to him who saw the other first; the recognition seemed to be simultaneous: the grip of their hands was spontaneous and eager.
“I never expected to see you here,” he said, and wrung Nel’s hand warmly. “What’s the farm doing in your absence?”