On May 30 the prisoners with the exception of the six already referred to were released, the terms being that their fines should be paid at once, and the unexpired term of imprisonment remitted. Each one as released was required to bind himself for the term of three years, reckoned from the 30th day of May, 1896, neither directly nor indirectly to meddle in the internal or external politics of the South African Republic, and to conduct himself as a law-abiding citizen of the State.

In some cases the provision was added that if in the opinion of the Executive Council the terms of this undertaking should be broken, the sentence of banishment which was held in suspense would come into force, and the men were required to sign this addendum to the above undertaking. The resolution of the Executive Council, which deals with the mitigation of the sentences, states that the imprisonment portions of the sentences are remitted; that the fines (£2,000 in all cases) must be paid at once; and that the banishment shall remain in abeyance subject to the faithful observance of the above undertaking; but that should any action be taken by any of the prisoners constituting in the opinion of the Executive Council a breach of the above undertaking, the sentence of banishment shall come into force.

There is no definition of the phrase 'meddle in politics,' nor is there any indication of what in the opinion of the Executive Council constitutes politics. There is of course on record the President's own statement in public that he would not permit any discussion on the dynamite and railway questions because they are matters of 'high politics'; and if haply the Executive should also hold this view, it is difficult to see how any of the prisoners will be able to follow their ordinary business and attend to those commercial affairs in which they are concerned without committing some breach of this ridiculous provision.

No answer was received to the many representations made on behalf of the four leaders, except that the Government were busy with the matter. Upon the release of the other prisoners it was suggested to them by friends outside that it would be a proper and politic course to proceed in a body to the Presidency and thank the President for the action he had taken in their respect, and at the same time to beg of him to extend a similar clemency to the four leaders who were still left in gaol. Most of the men were dead against taking any such action. They held very strongly to the opinion that they had been arrested by treachery, condemned by arrangement, and played with as counters in an unscrupulous manner. They recognized no obligation towards the President. They could see no magnanimity in a policy which had secured their arrest under the circumstances described which inveigled them into pleading guilty to a nominal offence, and which imposed upon them a sentence such as that passed. They considered the enormous fine which they were then called upon to pay to say nothing of the imprisonment which they had already suffered wholly disproportionate to the offence, and their natural impulse was to avoid the man who was directly responsible for it all, or at least not to meet him under circumstances so unequal, when they would be sure to be insulted, and would be obliged to suffer the insult in silence.

Some of them however yielded to the representations of their friends, who considered that it should be done for the sake of the men who were not yet released; whilst there were others who expressed the view that they would rather go back and do their imprisonment than suffer the humiliation which it was proposed to inflict; that they would not do it for themselves, and they could not bring themselves to do it for anybody else. A considerable number of the prisoners called upon His Honour; and this was the 'dog' interview. After hearing the address of the men the President proceeded to pat himself and his people on the back, saying that he knew he had behaved with great magnanimity and moderation, and that he hoped that such generosity would not be entirely thrown away.

'You must know,' he said, 'that I sometimes have to punish my dogs; and I find that there are dogs of two kinds. Some of them who are good come back and lick my boots. Others get away at a distance and snarl at me. I see that some are still snarling. I am glad that you are not like them.'

Those among his hearers who could understand His Honour's remarks, although they had been prepared for much, were certainly not prepared for this. The interpreter stood for a moment without rendering into English the metaphor chosen by the worthy President, and even His Honour—slow to perceive where he has transgressed the limits of etiquette and good breeding—gathered from the expressions upon the faces that something was wrong, and turning to the interpreter, said:

'Oh, that's only my joke! Don't interpret that to them.'

But those who witnessed it say that there was no joke in his voice or his eye as he said it. Proceeding then with more circumspection he walked out his dog in another form, and said that it was very well to punish the little dogs as he had punished them, but somebody should also punish the big dog—evidently referring to Mr. Rhodes—and in the course of a homily he again mixed his parable, sticking all the time to his dog however, remarking in conclusion that it was very well to punish the dogs, but what was to happen to the owner of the dogs, who stood by urging them on and crying 'Tsaa!'?

Throughout the week His Honour continued to make the homely dog work to good purpose, but the interview with the released Reformers was, it is believed, the first occasion upon which he made use of it. Certainly on no other occasion did the President do such ample justice to his reputation as a finished diplomat.