Her mother was delighted with the thought, and at 4 o'clock that afternoon they took a cab to Braamfontein Station.
The train had been delayed, and would be in at 6 instead of 5 o'clock, so they were told, but, for fear of having been misinformed, they decided to wait at the station.
Cold, dusty, pitiless, the keen wind blew on that unfriendly platform. There was no ladies' waiting room—in fact, it seemed as if the rooms had all been utilised for other, perhaps military, purposes.
It is incredible the amount of suffering that can be crowded into one hour of waiting!
Thank God, at last the train steamed in.
Armed troops and an unusually large number of passengers alighted on the platform, but there was not a prisoner to be seen. The desperate women walked up and down, keenly scrutinising every face they passed, until they heard a well-known, highly excited voice calling out "Mother! Mother!" to them from behind. They turned and saw their hero tumbling from the train, an armed Tommy at his heels.
There are no memories of the moments such as those which followed.
Things must have been rather bad, for when Hansie looked round again the armed soldier had turned away and was slowly walking in another direction. Blessed, thrice-blessed Tommy!
To this day when Hansie thinks of him she remembers with a pang that she did not shake hands with him.
"May we walk with the prisoner as far as the Johannesburg Fort?" Hansie asked.