Presently I saw a man I knew, a tall, dark man, a very good fellow and an excellent shot, named Robinson.  By the way you knew him also, for afterwards he was an officer in the Pretoria Horse at the time of the Zulu war, the corps in which you held a commission.  I called to him and asked what was up.

“A good deal, Allan,” he said as he shook my hand.  “Indeed we shall be lucky if all isn’t up, or something like it, before the day is over.  Shepstone’s Proclamation annexing the Transvaal is going to be read presently.”

I whistled and asked,

“How will our Boer friends take it?  They don’t look very pleased.”

“That’s just what no one knows, Allan.  Burgers the President is squared, they say.  He is to have a pension; also he thinks it the only thing to be done.  Most of the Hollanders up here don’t like it, but I doubt whether they will put out their hands further than they can draw them back.  The question is—­what will be the line of the Boers themselves?  There are a lot of them about, all armed, you see, and more outside the town.”

“What do you think?”

“Can’t tell you.  Anything may happen.  They may shoot Shepstone and his staff and the twenty-five policemen, or they may just grumble and go home.  Probably they have no fixed plan.”

“How about the English?”

“Oh! we are all crazy with joy, but of course there is no organization and many have no arms.  Also there are only a few of us.”

“Well,” I answered, “I came here to look for excitement, life having been dull for me of late, and it seems that I have found it.  Still I bet you those Dutchmen do nothing, except protest.  They are slim and know that the shooting of an unarmed mission would bring England on their heads.”

“Can’t say, I am sure.  They like Shepstone who understands them, and the move is so bold that it takes their breath away.  But as the Kaffirs say, when a strong wind blows a small spark will make the whole veld burn.  It just depends upon whether the spark is there.  If an Englishman and a Boer began to fight for instance, anything might happen.  Goodbye, I have got a message to deliver.  If things go right we might dine at the European tonight, and if they don’t, goodness knows where we shall dine.”

I nodded sagely and he departed.  Then I went to my wagon to tell the boys not to send the oxen off to graze at present, for I feared lest they should be stolen if there were trouble, but to keep them tied to the trek-tow.  After this I put on the best coat and hat I had, feeling that as an Englishman it was my duty to look decent on such an occasion, washed, brushed my hair—­with me a ceremony without meaning, for it always sticks up—­and slipped a loaded Smith & Wesson revolver into my inner poacher pocket.  Then I started out to see the fun, and avoiding the groups of surly-looking Boers, mingled with the crowd that I saw was gathering in front of a long, low building with a broad stoep, which I supposed, rightly, to be one of the Government offices.