under the
charge of Colonel Urenston, of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders,
with an escort of 2,000 men. I was at a loss to know why so large a
force should have been sent to guard me, but this seemingly
exaggerated precaution was soon explained when I was told that Lord
Kitchener had given special orders that great care was to be taken to
prevent my commando from rescuing me. I must say that there was not
much chance of that occurring. Colonel Urenston was a very courteous
soldier, and treated me as well as could be expected.

Reaching Machadodorp four days later, I was handed over at Dalmanutha
Station to Captain Pearson, a staff officer, who subsequently
conducted me and my fellow prisoners to Pretoria. Some days after my
arrival there I was taken before Lord Kitchener, and was received very
courteously by him at his office. My interview with this great General
lasted about half an hour. The Commander-in-Chief of the British Army
in South Africa impressed me as being a real soldier, a man possessed
of a strong will not marred by arrogance.

I did not know what the British military authorities proposed to do
with me, and felt quite indifferent as to the matter. At dawn on the
third day after my arrival I was awakened by a soldier and informed
that I was to be taken to the station. The train was in readiness when
I arrived, and the officer in charge invited me to take a seat in his
compartment. I was then told that we were to proceed to Durban, but no
information was given me as to my ultimate destination.

On the train we prisoners were treated with great courtesy, but on
reaching Durban a different experience awaited us. Here I was placed
under the charge of Colonel Ellet, a very irascible person. This
Colonel greeted me with the information that he was quite delighted
that I had been captured. He repeated this gratuitous insult three
times, and, my patience being exhausted, I asked him to be kind enough
to tell me where he was instructed to convey me, and not to cause me
unnecessary pain by his taunts. He apologised lamely and told me that
I was to proceed on board ship. This very much surprised me, and I
remarked that I had already been taken from home and hearth 500 miles.
This ill-tempered creature then lent back arrogantly in his armchair,
puffing at his cigar, and said: "Well, ah, you are banished, don't you
know. You are to be sent to St. Helena, or as we call it, 'The Rock.'
You will shortly embark. It