Oom Paul was in the proud position of this fly in the weeks immediately following the Raid, as well as during many years to come.  When we returned to Cape Town early in January, 1896, we found everything in a turmoil.  Mr. Rhodes had resigned the premiership and had left for Kimberley, where he had met with a most enthusiastic reception, and Mr. Beit had been left in possession at Groot Schuurr.  The latter gentleman appeared quite crushed at the turn events had taken—­not so much on account of his own business affairs, which must have been in a critical state, as in regard to the fate of Mr. Lionel Philips, his partner; this gentleman, as well as the other four members of the Reform Committee,[4] and a few lesser lights besides, had all been arrested during the past week at Johannesburg, and charged with high treason.  Even at Cape Town, Captain Bettelheim and Mr. S. Joel, who had left the Transvaal, had one forenoon been requested to accompany some mysterious gentleman, and, very much to their surprise, had found themselves lodged in Her Majesty’s gaol before lunch.  This occurrence came as a bombshell to the Cape Town community, it having been assumed that there was no extradition for political offences.  Johannesburg was known to be disarming almost unconditionally “in consequence of a personal appeal from the Governor,” and another telegram informed the world that the men in so doing were broken-hearted, but were making the sacrifice in order to save Dr. Jameson’s life.  Some unkind friends remarked that their grief must have been tempered with relief, in ridding themselves of the weapons that they had talked so much about, and yet did not use when the time for action came.  However, the ways of Providence are wonderful, and this inglorious finale was probably the means of averting a terrible civil war.  Sir Hercules Robinson was still at Pretoria, conferring with the President, who, it was opined, was playing with him, as nothing either regarding the fate of Dr. Jameson and his officers, or of the political prisoners, had been settled.  It was even rumoured that there was a serious hitch in the negotiations, and that Lord Salisbury had presented an ultimatum to the effect that, unless the President ratified the Convention of 1884, and ceased intriguing with Germany, war with England would ensue.  This story was never confirmed, and I think the wish was father to the thought.  I remember, during those eventful days, attending with Mrs. Harry Lawson a garden-party at Newlands, given by Lady Robinson, who was quite a remarkable personality, and an old friend and admirer of the ex-Prime Minister’s.  The gardens showed to their greatest advantage in the brilliant sunshine, and an excellent band played charming tunes under the trees; but everyone was so preoccupied—­and no one more than the hostess—­that it was rather a depressing entertainment.