Chapter 30 Chapter Twenty Nine

(Johannesburg, March 6) Everything here is very unhealthy.To paraphrase a famous saying that I often read, it is "we all live on the edge of a volcano".Crowds of strikers, or so-called strikers, frowning angrily together, marched through the streets.I think they are preparing for a massacre, picking fat capitalists.You can't take a taxi - if you do, the strikers will drag you out.And the restaurants all hint at you that once the food runs out, they will kick you out! Last night I met Rivers, my working-class friend on the Gillmorden.His feet were badly frostbitten.He was just like everyone else; they make inflammatory speeches purely for political purposes and then regret that they did.He's busy going around telling people right now that he didn't really speak that way.When I met him, he was on his way to Cape Town, where he was going to give a speech in Dutch for three days, justifying himself and pointing out that what he said really had a completely different meaning.I'm glad I don't have to sit in the South African Legislative Assembly.Congress is bad enough, but at least we have only one language and a bit of a limit on the length of speeches.I was in Parliament before I left Cape Town, and I heard a speech by an old gentleman with gray hair and a half-white beard who looked like the old turtle in Alice in Wonderland.He spoke slowly, word by word, in a mournful tone.From time to time he uttered a few words with emphasis, and then the audience cheered loudly, waking up the other half of the dozing audience who was having a sweet dream.Later I heard that the old gentleman spoke for at least three days.People in South Africa must be very patient.

I tried everything I could to think of ways to keep Pagett in Cape Town, but at last my wits were exhausted, and he would come back to me to-morrow, like a faithful dog, and die in his arms. The same spirit around his master.And this is when my memoir is going really well!I fabricated an incident of extraordinary tact in what the strike leader told me, and what I said to him. This morning, I was interviewed by a government official.He was gentle, persuasive, and mysterious.First, he hinted at my high position and importance, and suggested that I should go, or by his arrangement, to Pretoria.

"So, you're waiting for unrest?" I asked. His replies were too long to make any sense, so I judged that they were expecting a great disturbance.I suggested to him that his government was taking things too seriously. "There is a way of giving a man enough rope to hang himself, Sir Eustace." "Oh, good, good." "It's not the strikers themselves who are causing trouble, it's an organization behind it. They're throwing in weapons and explosives. We have a bunch of documents revealing how those weapons and explosives were imported. They have a code, and the potato refers to the 'Detonator,' cauliflower means 'rifle,' and the other vegetables stand for various explosives."

"That's very interesting," I commented. "Not only that, Sir Eustace, we have every reason to believe that the mastermind behind the scenes is now in Johannesburg." He stared at me so tightly that I began to fear that he might suspect that I was the mastermind. I broke out in a cold sweat and regretted why I had the idea of ​​coming here to study a small revolution and collect first-hand information. "There are no trains from Johannesburg to Pretoria," he went on, "but I can arrange for you to go by private car. Just in case you are stopped halfway, I can give you two passes, one One is from the Coalition Government and the other states that you are a British visitor who has nothing to do with the Coalition Government."

"One is for your countrymen, and the other is for the strikers, isn't it?" "Not bad at all." This plan is not for me - I know what can happen in that situation.You will be dazzled by the rhetoric.I could very well have taken the wrong pass, and I would have been shot by a bloodthirsty mob, or by law and order defenders, who I had noticed wore bowler hats and pipes tucked discreetly under their armpits. Rifles are keeping the streets safe.Besides, what am I going to do in Pretoria?To admire the majesty of the coalition government buildings while listening to the echoes of gunfire in Johannesburg?God knows how long I'll be stuck there?I hear they've blown up the tracks, and there's not even a drink in there.They had put that place under the military management zone two days ago.

"My good friend," said I, "you don't seem to understand what I'm doing in the River Heights. How can I go to Pretoria? I appreciate your concern for my safety, but don't worry about me. I'll take care of myself." "I warn you, Sir Eustace, that the food problem is serious." "A little diet will help my figure," I said with a sigh. Our conversation was interrupted by a telegram to me, which I watched with interest: "Anne is all right. In Kimberley with me. Suzanne Blair." I don't think I ever believed in Anne's death.There was something about the young woman that was particularly indestructible—she was like a patent ball for dogs.She has an uncommon knack for saving the day.I still can't figure out why she had to leave the hotel in the middle of the night in order to get to Kimberley.And there were no trains at all.She must have put on a pair of angel wings and flown there.I don't think she's going to explain it, no one ever did - least of all to me.I always had to use guesswork, which later became tedious and tedious.I think she did it as an emergency measure.

I folded the telegram and got rid of my government official friends.I don't like the taste of hunger, but I don't worry about my personal safety.Sima Zi has enough ability to deal with revolution.However I had to pay quite a bit of money for a glass of wine!I wonder if Pagett is so clever as to bring a bottle of whiskey when he comes tomorrow? I put on my hat and went out, intending to buy some souvenirs.Johannesburg's native produce shops are quite a delight.While I was looking at a window, a man came out of the store and faced me like an elephant.To my surprise, it was Rhys. I couldn't help but think he was happy to see me, in fact, he looked disturbed, but I insisted that he walk me back to the hotel.I was getting tired of having no one to talk to but Miss Pettigrew.

"Didn't think you were in Johannesburg," I casually said. "When did you get here?" "last night." "Then where do you live?" "With friends." He was prepared to remain terribly silent, and seemed a little embarrassed by my question. "I wish they had livestock," I said, "food is getting scarcer, and it would be nice to have a few fresh eggs a day, and kill an old hen now and then, from what I've heard. .” "By the way," I said when we got back to the hotel, "did you hear that Miss Beddingfield is alive and well?"

He nodded. "She really terrified us," I said with air. "I wonder where the hell she was that night." "She's been on that island all the time." "Which island? Wasn't it with that young man on that island?" "yes." "That's indecent," I said. "It's no wonder that Pagett is freaked out. He's been very disapproving of Anne Beddingfeld's behavior. I guess that's the one she was going to meet him in Durban." young man?" "I do not think so." "If you don't want to tell me, don't tell me," I provoked him.

"I think that's the young guy that every one of us would love to be a part of." "Could it be—?" I raised my voice and exclaimed excitedly. He nodded. "Harry Raeburn, aka Harry Lucas—that's his real name, you know. He's escaped us once more, but we're bound to get him soon enough." "My God, my God," I murmured. "Let's not suspect that the girl had any collusion with him. To her, it was just—a love affair." I had always believed that Rhys was in love with Annie, and those last words of his confirmed my conviction.

"She's gone to Bella," he went on a little anxiously. "Really," I said with wide eyes, "how do you know." "She wrote me from Bravar, telling me she was going home by way. That's all she had to do, poor child." "I don't think she's at Bella," I said thoughtfully. "When she wrote the letter, she had just set off." I am confused.Someone was obviously lying, and without considering that Anne might have had good reasons for lying to him, I took the telegram out of my pocket for the pleasure of mocking him, and he was always so elated, this time Give me a chance. "So how do you explain this?" I asked innocently. He seemed to have become dumb for a moment, dumbfounded. "She said she was leaving for Bella," he said in a confused voice. I know Rhys is considered a very smart guy.In my opinion, he is rather stupid.It never seemed to occur to him that girls don't always tell the truth. "To Kimberley too. What are they doing there?" He hesitated. "Yes, that surprised me. I thought Miss Anne would be busy gathering information for the Daily Gazette here." "Kimberley," he said again.The place seemed to worry him. "There's nothing to see over there—the diamond mines haven't been worked on yet." "You know women are like that," I said vaguely. He shook his head and walked away.I obviously gave him something to think about. Immediately after he left, my government official friend reappeared. "I hope you will forgive me for intruding again, Sir Eustace," he apologized to me. "But there are one or two questions I want to ask you." "Of course, my good friend," I said cheerfully, "ask." "That about your secretary—" "I don't know anything about him," I said hastily, "he conned me out of my important papers in London - for which I almost fell into a fire - and in Cape Town like a Magically disappeared without a trace. I was in the Falls at the same time as he was, yes, but I was in the hotel and he was on an island. I assure you I didn't even glance at him while I was there. " I stop to catch my breath. "You misunderstood me. I was talking about your other secretary." "What? Pagett?" I exclaimed in shock. "He's been with me for eight years - a very honest and reliable guy." The other party laughed. "You still misunderstood me, I meant the lady." "Miss Pettigrew?" I called. "Yes. She's been spotted coming out of Eglasate's." "God have mercy on me!" I put in. "I've been in that place myself this afternoon. You may have seen me coming out of it too!" In Johannesburg, it seems that even if you do anything innocent, you can't escape the suspicion of others. "Ah! But she was there more than once - and under rather suspicious circumstances. I can tell you privately, Sir Eustace - that place is suspected of being a meeting-house for the secret society behind this revolution. That's why I shall be glad to hear from you all about this lady. Where and how did you get her to be your secretary?" "She was on loan to me," I replied grimly, "on loan to me by your own government." After hearing this, he fled in despair.