"What is this for?" she asked.
"To seal the letter," he replied; but she quickly answered, with a smile:
"Oh no; I trust you."
He gave her a long official-looking envelope, into which she placed her letter, and, when she had readdressed it, he closed it with the stamp of the Military Governor's office.
Now, this little scene could not have taken place a few months, or even a few weeks, later, but at the time Hansie had no secrets to conceal from the Governor, and she had no reason to feel the slightest qualm in asking him to do her this personal favour.
But the time was soon to come, however, when she remembered the incident of the uncensored letter with no small degree of discomfort—when she found herself in the midst of conspiracies against the enemy, conspiracies of a far more serious nature than the harmless "smuggling" hitherto carried on by her and her mother.
"He would never believe that that letter contained no war news, if he were to find out what we are doing now," she thought then. "This kind of thing must cease—no more favours from the enemy, and, if I can help it, no more interviews with the Governor. But there is this tour of inspection—no getting out of that, and I shall have to see a great deal of him. Well, as far as the Camps are concerned, I can always 'play the game' to him. That is a thing apart."
A few days after this interview with the Governor, Mr. Cinatti called at Harmony with the interesting news that General Maxwell had invited the entire Diplomatic Corps to spend a day with him at Irene.
"We are going to-morrow [July 13th]," he said. "Now, why are you not there?" looking dolefully at Hansie.
"Oh, why did I leave my little round tent at Irene Camp?" she wailed. "But I will give you a letter for Miss Findlay, Mr. Cinatti. She knows all my worst cases and she has many quite as bad in her ward. Ask to see her, and whatever you do, don't forget to ask for Dr. Neethling."