With Roberts to Pretoria: A Tale of The South African War

by G. A. Henty

When Yorke entered the provost-marshal's room the latter said: "We are going to make the arrest in half an hour's time, Mr. Harberton. We are agreed that the crisis might at any moment come to a head, and that although, now that we are forewarned, we could doubtless suppress the rising, it could only be done at the cost of a good deal of bloodshed, and the destruction of a vast amount of property by fire. Have you any news from your boy?"

"Yes, sir, the Kaffir has been watching him all day. He has had no communication with anyone, except that he accosted a staff officer, and the latter wrote a few words on a piece of paper and gave it him. That, I have no question, was my address, and bears out my idea that he came here with the twofold object of arranging about this plot, and the time when it was to be carried out, and to satisfy his desire for vengeance upon myself."

"Well, we will put a stop to both these matters this evening. I will send six men with an officer to seize him at this café, if he remains there. At the same time, the parties will start to arrest the others; they have been watched all day, and we know where to lay hands upon them. The arrests must be made simultaneously, for the others would fly at once if they heard that any one of their fellow conspirators had been taken prisoner. As you do not wish to appear in the affair, your man had better accompany the party to this café, if he is still there, to point him out to the soldiers."

"Thank you, sir! I sent my Kaffir boy back to the beer-shop, and Hans has gone with him; he will at once bring me news here if he comes out. But I should hardly think that he will be likely to do so—unless, of course, he has an appointment with Cordua later—as, when a Boer sits down to drink, he generally makes an evening of it. However, I will go down now and bring Hans here to lead the party of soldiers."

Half an hour later several parties of soldiers, each accompanied by an officer, started from the police station. Hans joined the one that was to arrest Dirck, Yorke followed at a short distance. Hans entered the beer saloon with the officer, and, pointing to Dirck, said, "That is the man, sir."

"I arrest you, Dirck Jansen," the officer said, "on the charge of being a rebel, who has borne arms against our troops, and of now being concerned in a conspiracy to effect a rising in this town."

Dirck leaped to his feet with a fierce oath; but the officer, warned of the desperate character of the man, had given orders to the soldiers who accompanied him, and two rifles were levelled at him. With another curse Dirck said, "I surrender."

"There is a pistol in the fellow's jacket," the officer said. "Just search his pockets, sergeant."

The latter did so, as Dirck remained silent and sullen, and a loaded revolver was produced from his pocket. "Now, put the prisoner in the centre of the squad, sergeant; he is to be marched to the prison at once."

As they came along past the spot where Yorke was standing, some forty yards away, Dirck recognized him by the light of a shop window close by. He uttered a hoarse shout of rage, snatched a knife that was hidden in his trousers-belt, burst through the soldiers, and rushed at Yorke. The latter was unarmed, but he stood still, bracing himself to meet the attack. Dirck was within six feet of him when three shots rang out. The officer had used his revolver, and two of the men their rifles. All three bullets took effect, and Dirck fell dead at Yorke's feet.