him. _If you live_, Frank Muller, you will do these things, but perhaps
God will kill you. Who can say? You will do what God wills, not what
_you_ will."

The elder man was speaking seriously now. Muller felt that this was
none of the whining cant people in authority among the Boers find it
desirable to adopt. It was what he thought, and it chilled Muller
in spite of his pretended scepticism, as the sincere belief of an
intellectual man, however opposite to our own, is apt to chill us
into doubt of ourselves and our opinions. For a moment his slumbering
superstition awoke, and he felt half afraid. Between him and that bright
future of blood and power lay a dark gulf. Suppose that gulf should be
death, and the future nothing but a dream--or worse! His face fell as
the idea occurred to him, and the General noticed it.

"Well," he went on, "he who lives will see. Meanwhile you have done good
service to the State, and you shall have your reward, cousin. If I am
President"--he laid emphasis on this, the meaning of which his listener
did not miss--"if by the support of my followers I become President, I
will not forget you. And now I must up-saddle and ride back. I want to
be at Laing's Nek in sixty hours, to wait for General Wood's answer. You
will see about the sending in of those prisoners;" and he knocked out
his pipe and rose.

"By the way, _Meinheer_," said Muller, suddenly adopting a tone of
respect, "I have a favour to ask."

"What is it, nephew?"

"I want a pass for two friends of mine--English people--in Pretoria to
go down to their relations in Wakkerstroom district. They sent a message
to me by Hans Coetzee."

"I don't like giving passes," answered the General with some irritation.
"You know what it means, letting out messengers. I wonder you ask me."

"It is a small favour, _Meinheer_, and I do not think that it will
matter. Pretoria will not be besieged much longer; I am under an
obligation to the people."

"Well, well, as you like; but if any harm comes of it, you will be held
responsible. Write the pass; I will sign it."

Frank Muller sat down and wrote and dated the paper. Its contents were
simple: "Pass the bearers unharmed."

"That is big enough to drive a waggon along," said the General, when it
was handed to him to sign. "It might mean all Pretoria."

"I am not certain if there are two or three of them," answered Muller
carelessly.

"Well, well, you are responsible. Give me the pen," and h