It was then realised that the matter was serious, and a meeting of the Executive Council was called and the gravity of the situation explained by the President of the State. The result of the deliberations was the presentation by the Government of an ultimatum, which was in effect, “Choose between a compromise and a freeze-out.”
They accepted the compromise.
It was that the Government should find them in lodging and they should find their board.
It was not a very grand compromise, but it was better than a freeze-out, and during the ensuing months in which “The State versus H. Bankerpitt and Twenty-nine Others” sustained many adjournments and much publicity in the Pretoria press, only once was the modus vivendi thus established in any way threatened.
The younger members of the party had begun to keep irregular hours. One or two remonstrances failing to effect an improvement, the worthy gaoler resolved upon the extremest measure. He posted the following notice on the door:
“Anyone failing to return by nine p.m. will be locked out.”
There was no further trouble.
Some months had passed since the trial. The State had vindicated its authority; the inherent right of man was thrown out of court; and “H. Bankerpitt and Twenty-nine Others” had paid the penalty for their mistaken zeal. The man in the street had ceased to prophesy that the case would lead to war with the suzerain power, the weekly newspaper resumed its normal appearance, and the “constant reader” was no longer haunted by a headline more constant than himself.
“Moodie’s” was controlled by its rightful owners, but its name was as wormwood in the prospector’s mouth, and the quondam Promised Land became a spot accursed and despised.