"None at all," replied von Gobendorff. "It was easy to tell him a plausible tale. And how fares the interfering Englishman, Rupert Wilmshurst?"
"We still have him in close confinement up in the Karewenda Geberge," replied the hauptmann carelessly.
"A personal matter?" enquired Oberst von Lindenfelt.
"The accursed Englishman struck me a blow because I thought fit to chastise a thieving native woman," replied von Argerlich. "That was when the fellow was still prowling round to find the ammunition which we buried in readiness for the present time. Our good friend Ulrich trapped him."
"Why didn't you shoot the Englishman as soon as I had departed for South-West Africa?" enquired Ulrich von Gobendorff. "It would have been a simple solution to the difficulty, for dead men tell no tales."
"I would have done so," replied the hauptmann, "but for this reason. There were hundreds of natives who saw him taken away under arrest. If things go wrong with us they will most certainly inform the English. Also I do not wish to be a subject for reprisals, as I hear our foes are adopting that attitude. If we are to be on the losing side it pays us to walk circumspectly. By the bye, have you heard anything lately of your brother, Ernst?"
"Not for many months," replied Ulrich von Gobendorff. "The last time I received indirect tidings that he was doing good work in England. It will take a very smart man to catch Ernst. He is one of the most wily Secret Service Agents in the employ of the German Imperial Government."
Oberst von Lindenfelt having dismissed the troops the three Germans adjourned to the hauptmann's quarters, where over the remains of the bottle of spirits conversation was resumed.
"Tell me how you gave the Englishman the slip, Ulrich," asked von Argerlich.
"It was quite a simple matter," replied the spy. "I informed the camp commander—he was a simple sort of leutnant—that I was going to overtake the column, the column, by the bye, having been sent by me on a fool's errand to capture an imaginary laager on Gwelba kopje. According to previous arrangements I fell in with Hauptmann Schmidt's company, and he obligingly set a squad of his Askaris to work to stage the last stand of Scout MacGregor. We trampled the grass, left a few cartridge cases lying about and sent my borrowed horse away with a bullet-wound in his flank to hurry him up, and to give additional colour to the effect. I should not be surprised to see the name of Robert MacGregor posthumously honoured with the British Military Medal or something of that sort."