We found lodgment at Muizenburg, near Cape Town—­sun, wind, and primitive discomfort, this last mitigated by the never-failing kindness of the proprietor.  His little children fell over one another in eager service to my invalid; they were always sure of appreciative recognition from him, and every child is sensitive to kindness.

Mr. Joseph Story Curtis, the Reformer, joined us, brought down from the Rand by his physician and sick nurse; he was suffering from partial paralysis, induced by the excitement of the revolution and preliminary trial.

Young Shumacher had come to the coast for building up, also Mr. Van Goenert, who had carried a gun on duty when Johannesburg was under arms.  We were a saddened little circle at Muizenburg, and we used to watch the great ships sail out for ‘home’ with a lump in our throats.

The strong salt breeze buoyed us up to fresh hope.  A new friend came to me:  a woman with all a woman’s tenderness, and the simple necessities of life had a fresh meaning when supplied by you, dear Jessie Rose Innes!

Dr. Murray was obliged to leave us.

An untimely sea-bath brought back most serious symptoms to my patient, and I was the prey every afternoon to a low fever which sapped my strength.  Although at first this fever bore a horrible menace, it proved a disguised blessing.  For two or three hours each day I was absolutely free of care, and would lie with quick pulse and mildly intoxicated brain dreaming I was with my elder boy on the border of England.  I saw him in his little Eton jacket and broad turned-down collar, his sweet young face fresh as the morning.  Or I would dream of the pretty home under the hill, in far-off California.  The fragrance of thick beds of violets would seem to float to me over the long waste of sea, and I could see the tall roses nodding in the white summer fog.  My temples beat like the winter rain on the roof, and the light before my eyes was the library fire, picking out, in its old familiar way, the gilt lettering on the books ranged about.  It was sweet to go back to all this, even down the scorching path of fever.

Our stay at Cape Town was coming to its close.

The first trial was called for April 24, and my husband insisted upon going back to meet his sentence.  Drs. Thomas and Scholtz declared this most unadvisable.  His heart was in such condition, any shock might prove fatal.  Their reports were forwarded to the Transvaal Government, and I begged for a few days’ reprieve, cabling my urgent request to Mr. Olney in Washington, Dr. Coster at Pretoria, and our faithful friend, Mr. Robert Chapin, United States Consul at Johannesburg.  Mr. Olney at once petitioned the Boer Government in our behalf.  Dr. Coster answered curtly by wiring Mr. Chapin that John Hays Hammond was summoned to appear before the High Court of the Transvaal on the morning of April 24, at 10 o’clock.  To me he vouchsafed no word.