Just when the letter had been read and discussed, something happened in the tent that drew the heart of the Free Stater closer to that of the Transvaaler than before. Acting President Burger gave, on behalf of his Government to the Government of the Orange Free State, a sum of money—not so much, he said, as they would have desired—for the use of President Steyn. All were moved, and Judge Hertzog expressed the feelings of all when accepting the gift, as chairman, he said that they were deeply touched by the thoughtfulness of the Transvaalers, and that their deed afforded a new proof of our indissoluble union.
Shortly before three o'clock horses were harnessed to the vehicle of President Steyn, and accompanied by Dr. van der Merwe he got into it. Dr. van der Merwe was now going to take him to his own house at Krugersdorp, and there to take further charge of him. And here I must not let the opportunity pass without bearing witness to the unselfishness and self-sacrifice of this doctor. Everyone appreciated what he had done for the President, and I feel assured that the Africander nation will bear it in thankful remembrance.
The President said farewell to those who loved him, and rode away. I sat writing in another tent on some business of his, and did not see him depart.
The carriage rolled away, and I had not said farewell to him. I could not let him go without a last pressure of the hand. I ran after the vehicle. The guards stopped it, and so I could reach him. I grasped the hand of the sick man. I still see him as he sat in his carriage. He looked to me like the personification of all that was noble, of all that was heroic: a man who for a great idea could sacrifice all.
I feel the pressure of his hand yet, I still hear his words, but how he looked, and what he spoke, I may not, and what passed through my heart, I cannot set down here.
The carriage drove away.
The curtain had fallen upon a tragedy: Martinus Theunis Steyn had disappeared from the scene.
It was as if an arrow had gone through my heart.
I went to the tent of assembly. I listened to the words of the Delegates, and mechanically made notes of what was said; but my heart was elsewhere. It was with the man who had striven as few could, and who was now being carried away by the train farther and farther from the arena.
For a considerable time longer the Delegates continued asking for explanations of the articles of the British proposal. At last nothing remained to be asked; then it was that one of the Delegates girded himself to the task of placing himself face to face with the question, "What we were to accept: whether we should continue this struggle, or whether we should accept the terms of the British Government, or whether we should surrender unconditionally."