Seeing there was no more to be said, he rose to go. At the door he paused. "You have forced me to consent to what you wished," he said, "as I can do nothing against the power you have unlawfully gained over me by stealing my papers. But I give you fair warning that I love Brenda madly, and that I intend to make her my wife in spite of Captain Burton. Once in the Transvaal, I shall join hands openly with my adopted country. Then let Burton look to himself, for I will do my best to make his wife a widow."
"The future is in the hands of God," Lady Jenny said solemnly. "You can go, Mr. van Zwieten."
He bowed ironically and went without another word. He was glad to have escaped so easily; for, after all, he could do as he liked when he was beyond the reach of pursuit. Once he was in the Transvaal, Lady Jenny might show the papers as much as she wished. Had she been wise, he thought, she would have kept him as a hostage. But she had let her chance slip, and he was free to plot and scheme. Needless to say, he intended to keep none of the promises he had made.
Then he went out into the night, slipped past three men, whom he recognized as Wilfred and the constables, and so took his departure like a whipped hound.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
A TERRIBLE LETTER.
Then succeeded a period of waiting and heart-breaking expectation, which Brenda, in common with many of her fellow-countrymen, bore with quiet heroism. Glencoe, Elandslaagte, Rietfontein were fought, and victory crowned the British arms; but the triumphs were only achieved at a bitter cost.
The eyes of the world were eagerly fixed on this first example of modern warfare since the Franco-German campaign; and the military experts of Europe were anxious to learn how the use of scientific weapons of terrible destructive force would affect the warfare of the future. It was soon seen that battles would resolve themselves into artillery duels, since no human beings could stand up against the hail of shot and shell hurled incessantly from repeating machines such as the Mauser, Nordenfelt and Maxim. That the British troops should brave the fury of this death-storm proved to the onlooking world how brightly the valor for their sires burned in their hearts. Even the grudging critics of the Continent could not withhold their tribute of admiration at this matchless daring.
Mr. Scarse had taken a small house, and Brenda lived with him. They had been very happy together since their reconciliation--as happy, at least, as they could be while Harold was at the front. He was with Buller, who, sheltered behind the Tugela River, had not yet commenced to move. How eagerly Brenda scanned the papers through those days of suspense! Wilfred had gone out as a war correspondent, and when his brilliant letters appeared, with what delight she read them over and over again. Mr. Scarse still denounced the war as an unjust one, and unnecessary to boot, and said so in public when he could. Seeing it was useless to attempt to alter her father's views, Brenda never mentioned the subject; and so they got on very well together. Occasionally there came a letter from Harold; then Brenda was happy for the day, for he always wrote full of hope and courage.
Lady Jenny Malet still lingered in England. She had let her Curzon Street house and was staying at a quiet hotel. Knowing, as she did, that Van Zwieten was not wholly crushed, she did not feel inclined to leave the country until she felt tolerably certain that Harold was safe from him. His box she kept in her own possession and showed to no one. Only in the event of Van Zwieten playing the traitor in Natal would she produce them. For no other reason would she smirch the memory of her husband. She had arranged with Wilfred that, if the spy were found in the British camp, information should be sent to her at once. Then she would see the authorities, and he should be dealt with according to martial law. She explained this to Brenda.