as liberated_.

FOURTH WEEK.--The decision still withheld. President Kruger excuses
this by saying it is due to the fact that only half the captive
Randites have signed the petition for commuting the banishment and
imprisonment clauses to fines.

The suspense is heartbreaking, and night brings no forgetfulness.
Those long voiceless nights of South Africa! Not a bird's call, nor a
chirp from the tiny creatures which hide in the grass. A white moon, a
wide heaven filled with strange stars, and the tall moon-flowers at
the gate lifting up their mute white trumpets to the night wind.

The little boy beside me rouses from his sleep to ask:--'Mother dear,
why do you laugh and shake the bed so?'

Fearing an illness, I yearned for a last interview with my husband. It
was a Saturday that I went to Pretoria, and although the prison was
supposed to be closed on that day to visitors, I had several times
gained admittance through the kindness of those in authority. I went
to the Landdrost who had the dispensing of permits.

'Will you please make an exception in my favour and allow me to see my
husband? I am ill, and must return to my home in Johannesburg at
once.'

'What does she say?' roared the Landdrost, who for some reason was in
a furious temper. He turned to a Boer in the room. 'Tell her she may
whine as much as she pleases, she can't see her husband on Saturday.
_Nobody_ can go in the prison on Saturday. If she wants to see her
husband she must wait until next Monday!' The man turned fiercely
towards me, but seeing my patient face, or perhaps for the sake of
some Boer woman on a distant farm, his voice broke, and became quite
gentle as he delivered the message.

With one exception this was the only time I ever received harsh
treatment from a Boer official. Of course I sometimes met with a
_strictness of manner_ which was to be expected, and which I was quite
prepared to submit to. Brutal unkindness I never experienced but
twice.

Reaching the jail, whither I had directed the cabman to drive me, I
found Advocate Sauer and Mr. Du Plessis standing at the gate. They
almost dropped at sight of my face. Dignity had deserted me. I was
actually howling in my distress,

'Please, _please_ let me in to my husband!'

Du Plessis, rough and violent as he was to most people, was always
kind to me. He opened the wicket and pushed me gently through. That
was his answer. My sudden entrance, a ball of a woman with the tears
drippi