irected, while she sent her brother to question
him. It turned out that the rider was the same _Daily Mail_
correspondent who had cut his way out of Mafeking in order to send his
cables, and that he was now on his way back to the besieged town. The
growth of a two weeks' beard had given him such an unkempt appearance as
to make even sharp Mrs. Keeley mistake him for a Boer. He had had an
interesting if risky ride, which he appeared to have accomplished with
energy and dash, if perhaps with some imprudence.[30]

It was the continued dearth of news, not only concerning Mafeking, but
also of what was going on in the rest of South Africa, that made me at
length endeavour to get news from Vryburg. As a first step I lent Dop to
a young Dutchman named Brevel, who was anxious to go to that township to
sell some fat cattle. This youth, who belonged to a respectable Boer
family--of course heart and soul against the English--was overwhelmed
with gratitude for the loan of the horse, and in consequence I stood
high in their good graces. They little knew it was for my sake, not
theirs, that they had my pony. By this messenger we sent letters for the
English mail, and a note to the magistrate, begging him to forward us
newspapers and any reliable intelligence. I also enclosed a cheque to be
cashed, for I was running short of English gold wherewith to pay our
nigger letter-carriers. I must confess I hardly expected to find anyone
confiding enough to part with bullion, but Mr. Brevel duly returned in a
few days with the money, and said they were very pleased to get rid of
gold in exchange for a cheque on a London bank.

He also, however, brought back our letters, which had been refused at
the post-office, as they would take no letters except with Transvaal
stamps, and for ours, of course, we had used those of Cape Colony.

The magistrate wrote me a miserable letter, saying his office had been
seized by the Boers, who held a daily Kriegsraad there, and that he had
received a safe-conduct to depart. The striking part of the
communication was that a line had been put through "On H.M. Service" on
the top of the official envelope. I was really glad to find the young
man had done no good with his own business, having failed to dispose of
any of his cattle. He, a Dutchman, had returned with the feeling that no
property was safe for the moment, and much alarmed by the irresponsible
talk of those burghers who had nothing to lose and everything