"Yes, in spite of our Fleet. Tirpitz deserves to be cashiered."

"But, my good friend, if they can get reinforcements and we can't, where are we? And then, I thought the English had to send troops to India to put down the rebellion there. Isn't that true?"

"I don't know what's true. I'm sick of the whole thing. Here's my plantation going to rack and ruin: that wretched young cub of an Englishman having the audacity to run off with my workers; and when I ought to be bringing him to book I'm packed off to Tabora. Heaven knows what has happened in my absence."

"I know a little, too. Your young cub is a pretty lively one, and has pretty good claws. A few days after we were beaten back at Abercorn----"

"That's true, then. I didn't believe it."

"What could be expected when all our best troops are in the north? We were outnumbered."

If Major von Rudenheim believed what he said, he must have been singularly ill-informed. On September 5, when the Germans attacked the little town of Abercorn, its defenders were forty members of the native police, its commandant the postmaster. There happened to be a machine-gun at hand, and this was so well manipulated by the postmaster, Mr. Bisset (who might have been expected to be more at home with the telegraph instrument) that the tiny garrison was able to hold off the enemy, four times its strength, until reinforcements of Rhodesian planters arrived. Mr. Bisset's name deserves to be recorded on the ill.u.s.trious roll of civilians turned soldiers who have at critical moments helped to make and to save the British Empire.

"As I was saying," the major went on, "a few days after our unlucky reverse at Abercorn, your young cub pounced upon one of our recruiting patrols and carried every man of them to his lair somewhere in the forest."

Reinecke swore a good old German oath.

"It's not true," he declared.

"You forget yourself, Captain," said Rudenheim, severely. "I am not a Berlin newspaper, or even the Wolff bureau."

"I apologise, Major, but really--a German patrol, with German soldiers?"

"A sergeant, two privates, and I don't know how many askaris. They all vanished."

"Then it can't be known that this English pighead captured them: how could it?"

"My dear captain, a recruiting patrol recruits. These unfortunate Germans were returning with their bag--how large I don't know: your cub released them all. When the patrol was some days overdue, a party was sent out in search. They found the villages towards Lake Rukwa absolutely empty of able-bodied men, which seems to show that this British lion-cub has set up a pretty efficient system of scouting, or the n.i.g.g.e.rs could hardly have had warning. But by adopting the usual methods they wrung the story out of one of the old men, burnt down a few houses, and returned with the news."

"And you hunted the wretch?"

"We had something better to do. The English, reinforced by Belgians, have kept things rather lively on the frontier, and we have had no men to spare for cub-hunting."

"But--but--it is preposterous; it is an insult to the German flag; to allow a nest of mutineers to exist--yes, and to make raids--within a couple of marches of a German town. The young fool is alone----"

"With all your plantation hands, I understand."

"Raw n.i.g.g.e.rs----"

"But armed with Mausers we can ill spare."

"They don't know b.u.t.t from muzzle."

"Possibly your cub is not such a cub after all. The English schoolboy nowadays has a cadet's training, I believe. Perhaps this youngster might drive a little military gumption even into the n.i.g.g.e.r's wooden head."

"Really, Major," cried Reinecke impatiently, "you speak as though--as though you think the English good for something, whereas we all know they can't possibly be. They've no efficiency; they're slack; they----"

"Yes, we've been told so," the major interposed drily. "It's just possible that we're mistaken--believe what we want to believe. And I've seen this boy, remember."

Reinecke got up and stalked about the room.

"It is absurd; it is scandalous," he cried. "A young whippersnapper kidnaps our men, defies us, lowers the prestige of the German name, makes us a laughing-stock----"

"Stay, stay, Captain. You are a little intemperate. A friendly word of warning: don't talk like that outside this room. It's unwise, unsafe, if you value your commission. I go so far as to say you are unreasonable. You allow personal feeling to warp your judgment. Your dislike of this young Englishman, however natural in the circ.u.mstances--" Reinecke flashed a keen look at the speaker--"must not blind you to the facts of the situation. As I have explained, we have been hard pressed on the frontier. The Englishman, it appears, has an extraordinarily strong position----"

"Where is he?"

"They talk of a nullah----"

"I know it. It was in my company he learnt of it."

"That must be very annoying."

"Not at all, it is good news. Strong? Why, it is a cul-de-sac. At the north it is blocked by a lake. The cub has trapped himself."

"You are a little impatient, Captain. I was about to tell you that a half company of askaris went in pursuit of him the same night he left your plantation--while you were making your way here. You left next morning, you remember, or you would have known that our men were checked in the forest----"

"Checked? By a horde of untrained n.i.g.g.e.rs?"

"Commanded by your cub of an Englishman. They were checked; only temporarily, of course; the lieutenant did not know what force he had against him, and acted with prudence as a good soldier should. But when he pushed on to the nullah, he found that fortification had already been begun. The entrance of the nullah was defended by a formidable breastwork, and to capture the place would have taken a longer time than he had to dispose of: he was under orders for Abercorn."

"But surely----"

"Let me finish, Captain. There was a breastwork, as I say; and I am very much mistaken if between then and now the boy has not added to his defences. It is a mistake to despise one's enemy, Reinecke, even an Englishman. Lieutenant Obermann's opinion--and he is a good man, you know--is that the nullah, properly defended, could not be reduced by less than a couple of companies of good troops--unless it could be surprised; and since the fellow draws scouts from all the n.i.g.g.e.rs in the neighbourhood there's little chance of that. Two companies could not be detached from our frontier posts without a risk which the colonel was unwilling to run. He is not blind to all the considerations you put so forcibly just now; but his decision was, to wait until the general situation eased, then to take measures to stamp out your Englishman and his mutineers as one would destroy a nest of vipers."

"Yes, hang the lot."

"The Englishman?"

"Why not? He is a spy. The spy's fate is to be hanged."

"Quite so. And I am sure we can depend on you, Captain, to supply a good rope--even for your partner."

Reinecke turned angrily towards the major, whose att.i.tude throughout the interview had been very unsatisfactory, and in whose tone he had caught a hint of contempt. But the explosion that seemed imminent was prevented by a knock at the door and the entrance of the major's servant.

The man saluted formally, and announced that an Arab was enquiring for Captain Reinecke.

"Send him in," said the major: "unless you would prefer to see him at your own quarters, Captain."

"No. Why should I meet an Arab secretly?" said Reinecke with irritation. "Let him come in."

There entered a lean, haggard Arab, in worn and tattered dress, with one arm in a sling. He bowed to the officers.

"Haroun!" cried Reinecke. "I hardly knew you ... It is one of my overseers, Major ... Where have you been?"

The man, in his broken German, poured out a long story, which keenly interested the officers in different ways. He said that, after having been removed from the plantation, he had been forced to take service with the Englishman, and been cruelly treated by him. Lifting his tunic, he turned his back, and displayed a few weals. He escaped, and was fired at and wounded in the arm. After several terrible days in the forest, he had managed to crawl into Bismarckburg, and what with hunger and pain was now at the point of death.

"Flogging a German subject!" cried Reinecke. "Another nail in the Englishman's coffin."