A Traitor in London

by Fergus Hume

"Directly the advance begins, Brenda, you must get back to Durban. It will never do for you to remain here. There's going to be some pretty hard fighting."

"Yes; but not here. I shall be perfectly safe behind the British lines."

"Perhaps; I hope so." Wilfred looked gloomy and bit his nails abstractedly, a habit with him when he was annoyed. "I tell you what it is, Brenda," he burst out. "I'm very doubtful about the wisdom of this advance. Buller's idea is, I believe, to cross the Tugela and try and pierce the Boer centre. I'm afraid he won't succeed."

"Oh, Wilfred! Have you no more faith in the British soldiers than that?"

"I have every faith in the rank and file--yes, and in many of the junior officers, but I confess candidly that I don't feel altogether the same amount of trust in our leaders. The mere fact of this advance having been decided upon goes to prove to me that they don't know their business! The country between this and Ladysmith is precipitous--I know nothing like it outside Switzerland or the Rockies--and it seems to me to be a mad thing to lead an army over it with heavy transport and all that unless that army is in overwhelming superiority to the opposing force--which we know it isn't. The whole place is strongly fortified, and the positions that will have to be stormed are almost impregnable. These Boers know only too well what they are about. They have chosen their ground well. Mark my words, there will be great loss of life if not a great disaster. It is throwing away lives to attempt campaigning in this district."

"But Ladysmith must be relieved!"

"I know; but it will never be relieved in this way. Even the valor of the British soldier is powerless against the hail of bullets which will rain down on him from these natural fortresses, and ten to one he won't see a single Boer to shoot at in return. They are devilish clever at keeping out of sight; of course, I am only a civilian and don't intend to set my opinion against that of the professional soldier; but there is such a thing as common sense, and we have not had enough of it about in the conduct of this campaign."

Brenda was impressed in spite of herself. "What do you think ought to be done, Wilfred?"

"Fall back on Durban and reconstruct the plan of campaign. Buller's original idea of invading the Free State was by far the best. If we took the capital we should cut the rabbits off from their burrows, and ten to one the Free Staters would be disheartened. Then again, in that country we should have had more open fighting, and manœ uvring would have been child's play to what it is here. It is sheer madness hurling line after line against these impregnable fortresses. Even if they are taken it can only be at terrible loss. Believe me, Buller's original plan was the best--the only one. But I hear he was overruled. But you can take my word for it--if Buller makes this move there will be a terrible disaster."

Brenda seemed disturbed at this view of things. She could not believe that a soldier of General Buller's experience could be capable of so grave an error of judgment. And yet, as Wilfred put it, this advance did seem to be of an unduly hazardous nature. But there again, Wilfred was always so pessimistic. He was not the man to look at anything hopefully when he could do the opposite. The men themselves were all full of confidence, she knew, and were looking forward to relieving their gallant comrades in Ladysmith within a very short time now. Wilfred must be wrong, she argued; it was more than likely that the General had some information up his sleeve that no one knew anything about. At all events, she was not going to look on the black side of things. Thus she comforted herself somewhat.