Knowing what he did, Ned was not at all deceived by these false signs of amiability. When the Boer is meditating some extra treachery he is always the most amiable. It is only part of his crafty and deceitful nature. He likes to lull his victim into a trusting condition, so that he may have him at a disadvantage. He likes to play like a cat with his prey, and surprise him suddenly.
Ned knew that Kruger had given orders for this extra tolerance, so that the citizens might be lulled into security, and that his thunderbolt might fall the more startlingly upon their devoted heads. This was only in keeping with his malicious, torture-loving, and savage nature. These smiling, hard-faced men who looked so grimly indulgent on the unarmed citizens whom they were deluding, were inwardly thinking gloatingly on the coming massacre.
He saw them clinking glasses in the bars with their unconscious victims, and laughing loudly at their jokes, while their revolvers stuck out behind—the revolvers that they intended using shortly on the jokers. Knowing what he did, Ned hated those double-faced wretches with more intensity. They were less tolerable in their sullen and insulting state than in their surly humour.
Once he almost betrayed himself by the start he gave. He had passed Stephanus Groblaar with his broken nose, standing with some exchange men at the door of a hotel.
Stephanus saw him also, and winked leeringly at him as he passed. Stephanus was a modern city-bred Boer, therefore of the advanced school, who laughed at religion and morality. With these added vices he retained all the other evil instincts of his race, so that he was utterly graceless.
Ned passed him swiftly with eyes cast down. He glanced over his shoulder after he had got a little distance, and gave a sigh of relief, when he saw Stephanus leering on a couple of ladies who were passing. The supposed servant had only attracted him momentarily. He had failed to recognise his nose-breaker.
Ned felt savagely glad that this vindictive foe was in the city. He trusted he would stay in Johannesburg till the night of the tenth, for he wanted to have it out with him.
When he reached the club it was almost empty, but the manager recognised him and took him upstairs to a bedroom. Here he had a wash, and some lunch brought to him. Then he lay down and rested for a few hours.
He was wakened by some one shaking him, and when he opened his eyes he saw his old friend, Philip Martin, by the bedside. Ned started up and shook hands.
“Well, my fine young woman, so you have got back.”