The court it cried, oh, no!”
After evidence of a most conclusive character had been given, the accused were duly committed for trial to the special court, where, strange to say, “one was taken and the other left,” with a cruel irony of fate, the one taken (to the breakwater for seven years) was the perfidious Silberfeldt, the one left (to the enjoyment of his liberty) was the friend who so narrowly escaped betrayal.
As an instance of the fact that in temporal matters at least “honesty” does not always appear to be “the best policy,” I recollect an instance of which the truth can be vouched.
One fine spring morning in September, 187–, a certain diamond buyer, whom we will call Gonivavitski, might have been seen marching up and down the Bulfontein road enjoying the early rays of the sun, reading the daily paper, yet still keeping a narrow watch on the canvas frame-house in which he conducted his licensed (?) dealings. Active, robust, cheery, though a rogue in spirit and grain, manliness appeared to beam from every line of his seemingly honest face. Our friend, too, was of a dogmatic turn of mind, insisted on “cleanliness being next to godliness,” and no firmer believer in the proverb that the “early bird catches the worm” could have been found in all Kimberley.
Just as he had finished the leading article he caught sight of one of his clients approaching in an opposite direction. G. started nervously, as he did not desire the visit of this especial gentleman in the daylight—in other words he only bought of “niggers” after dark—but his dusky acquaintance gave him a sly glance, as much as to say: “I fancy I’ve seen you before,” a quite sufficient hint that “something” (as illicit stones are often called “in the trade”) was in the immediate neighborhood, so G. could not resist the temptation.
Taking a bird’s-eye view of the situation, Gonivavitski hastily came up to the native, who, with a knowing leer, opened his hand, revealing a magnificent pure white diamond nearly the size of a plover’s egg.
“Mooi klippe baas!” (fine stone, master) said the nigger.
“Ya! kom hier sa, booi,” (yes, come this way, boy) said G. hurriedly, fearing observation.
The boy did as he was told, following the white man into his office, which was close by. The door was soon shut, the stone weighed and the bargain struck, the native starting off with the money at a round trot to join his “brothers,” who were waiting round the corner. But “conscience doth make cowards of us all,” and Mr. G. was not an exception; fearing that he had been watched, and regardful either of his spotless reputation, or of the pleasures of the “tronk”[[51]] looming in the future, started in hot pursuit and gave his late visitor into the custody of the first policeman he met.
“What’s up now?” said the guardian of law and order.