CHAPTER XX
THE COURT-MARTIAL
One hour, two hours, three hours, and then suddenly from the top of a
rise the sight of the beautiful Mooi River winding through the plain
like a vast snake of silver, and there, in a loop of it, the
flat-crested koppie on which I had hoped to make my home. Had
hoped!--why should I not still hope? For aught I knew everything might
yet be well. Marie might have escaped the slaughter as I had done, and
if so, after all our troubles perchance many years of life and happiness
awaited us. Only it seemed too good to be true.
I flogged my horse, but the poor beast was tired out and could only
break into short canters, that soon lapsed to a walk again. But whether
it cantered or whether it walked, its hoofs seemed to beat out the
words--"Too good to be true!" Sometimes they beat them fast, and
sometimes they beat them slow, but always their message seemed the same.
Hans, too, was outworn and weak from starvation. Also he had a cut upon
his foot which hampered him so much that at last he said I had better go
on alone; he would follow more slowly. Then I dismounted and set him on
the horse, walking by it myself.
Thus it came about that the gorgeous sunset was finished and the sky had
grown grey with night before we reached the foot of the koppie. Yet the
last rays of the sinking orb had shown me something as they died. There
on the slope of the hill stood some mud and wattle houses, such as I had
ordered to be built, and near to them several white-capped wagons. Only
I did not see any smoke rising from those houses as there should have
been at this hour of the day, when men cooked their evening food. The
moon would be up presently, I knew, but meanwhile it was dark and the
tired horse stumbled and floundered among the stones which lay about at
the foot of the hill.
I could bear it no longer.
"Hans," I said, "do you stay here with the horse. I will creep to the
houses and see if any dwell there."
"Be careful, baas," he answered, "lest you should find Zulus, for those
black devils are all about."
I nodded, for I could not speak, and then began the ascent. For several
hundred yards I crept from stone to stone, feeling my way, for the
Kaffir path that led to the little plateau where the spring was, above
which the shanties stood, ran at the other end of the hill. I struck
the spruit or rivulet that was fed by this spring, being guided to it by
the murmur of the water, and followed up its bank till I heard a sound
which caused me to crouch and listen.
I could not be sure because of the ceaseless babble of the brook, but
the sound seemed like that of sobs. While I waited the great moon
appeared suddenly above a bank of inky cloud, flooding the place with
light, and oh! by that light, looking more ethereal than woman I saw--I
saw Marie!
She stood not five paces from me, by the side of the stream, whither she
had come to draw water, for she held a vessel in her hand. She was
clothed in some kind of a black garment, such as widows wear, but made
of rough stuff, and above it her face showed white in the white rays of
the moon. Gazing at her from the shadow, I could even see the tears
running down her cheeks, for it was she who wept in this lonely place,
wept for one who would return no more.
My voice choked in my throat; I could not utter a single word. Rising
from behind a rock I moved towards her. She saw me and started, then
said in a thrilling whisper:
"Oh! husband, has God sent you to call me? I am ready, husband, I am
ready!" and she stretched out her arms wildly, letting fall the vessel,
that clanked upon the ground.
"Marie!" I gasped at length; and at that word the blood rushed to her
face and brow, and I saw her draw in her breath as though to scream.
"Hush!" I whispered. "It is I, Allan, who have escaped alive."
The next thing I remember was that she lay in my arms.
"What has happened here?" I asked when I had told my tale, or some of
it.
"Nothing, Allan," she answered. "I received your letter at the camp,
and we trekked away as you bade us, without telling the others why,
because you remember the Commandant Retief wrote to us not to do so. So
we were out of the great slaughter, for the Zulus did not know where we
had gone, and never followed us here, although I have heard that they
sought for me. My father and my cousin Hernan only arrived at the camp
two days after the attack, and discovering or guessing our
hiding-place--I know not which--rode on hither. They say they came to
warn the Boers to be careful, for they did not trust Dingaan, but were
too late. So they too were out of the slaughter, for, Allan, many, many
have been killed--they say five or six hundred, most of them women and
children. But thank God! many more escaped, since the men came in from
the other camps farther off and from their shooting parties, and drove
away the Zulus, killing them by scores."
"Are your father and Pereira here now?" I asked.
"No, Allan. They learned of the massacre and that the Zulus were all
gone yesterday morning. Also they got the bad news that Retief and
everyone with him had been killed at Dingaan's town, it is said through
the treachery of the English, who arranged with Dingaan that he should
kill them."
"That is false," I said; "but go on."
"Then, Allan, they came and told me that I was a widow like many other
women--I who had never been a wife. Allan, Hernan said that I should
not grieve for you, as you deserved your fate, since you had been caught
in your own snare, being one of those who had betrayed the Boers. The
Vrouw Prinsloo answered to his face that he lied, and, Allan, I said
that I would never speak to him again until we met before the Judgment
Seat of God; nor will I do so."
"But I will speak to him," I muttered. "Well, where are they now?"
"They rode this morning back to the other Boers. I think they want to
bring a party of them here to settle, if they like this place, as it is
so easy to defend. They said they would return to-morrow, and that
meanwhile we were quite safe, as they had sure tidings that all the
Zulus were back over the Tugela, taking some of their wounded with them,
and also the Boer cattle as an offering to Dingaan. But come to the
house, Allan--our home that I had made ready for you as well as I could.
Oh! my God! our home on the threshold of which I believed you would
never set a foot. Yes, when the moon rose from that cloud I believed
it, and look, they are still quite close together. Hark, what is that?"
I listened, and caught the sound of a horse's hoofs stumbling among the
rocks.
"Don't be frightened," I answered; "it is only Hans with my horse. He
escaped also; I will tell you how afterwards." And as I spoke he
appeared, a woebegone and exhausted object.
"Good day, missie," he said with an attempt at cheerfulness. "Now you
should give me a fine dinner, for you see I have brought the baas back
safe to you. Did I not tell you, baas, that everything would come
right?"
Then he grew silent from exhaustion. Nor were we sorry, who at that
moment did not wish to listen to the poor fellow's talk.
Something over two hours had gone by since the moon broke out from the
clouds. I had greeted the Vrouw Prinsloo and all my other friends, and
been received by them with rapture as one risen from the dead. If they
had loved me before, now a new gratitude was added to their love, since
had it not been for my warning they also must have made acquaintance
with the Zulu spears and perished. It was on their part of the camp
that the worst of the attack fell. Indeed, from those wagons hardly
anyone escaped.
I had told them all the story, to which they listened in dead silence.
Only when it was finished the Heer Meyer, whose natural gloom had been
deepened by all these events, said:
"Allemachte! but you have luck, Allan, to be left when everyone else is
taken. Now, did I not know you so well, like Hernan Pereira I should
think that you and that devil Dingaan had winked at each other."
The Vrouw Prinsloo turned on him furiously.
"How dare you say such words, Carl Meyer?" she exclaimed. "Must Allan
always be insulted just because he is English, which he cannot help?
For my part, I think that if anyone winked at Dingaan it was the
stinkcat Pereira. Otherwise why did he come away before the killing and
bring that madman, Henri Marais, with him?"
"I don't know, I am sure, aunt," said Meyer humbly, for like everyone
else he was afraid of the Vrouw Prinsloo.
"Then why can't you hold your tongue instead of saying silly things
which must give pain?" asked the vrouw. "No, don't answer, for you will
only make matters worse; but take the rest of that meat to the poor
Hottentot, Hans"--I should explain that we had been supping--"who,
although he has eaten enough to burst any white stomach, I dare say can
manage another pound or two."
Meyer obeyed meekly, and the others melted away also as they were wont
to do when the vrouw showed signs of war, so that she and we two were
left alone.
"Now," said the vrouw, "everyone is tired, and I say that it is time to
go to rest. Good night, nephew Allan and niece Marie," and she waddled
away leaving us together.
"Husband," said Marie presently, "will you come and see the home that I
made ready for you before I thought that you were dead? It is a poor
place, but I pray God that we may be happy there," and she took me by
the hand and kissed me once and twice and thrice.
About noon on the following day, when my wife and I were laughing and
arguing over some little domestic detail of our meagre establishment--so
soon are great griefs forgotten in an overwhelming joy, of a sudden I
saw her face change, and asked what was the matter.
"Hist!" she said, "I hear horses," and she pointed in a certain
direction.
I looked, and there, round the corner of the hill, came a body of Boers
with their after-riders, thirty-two or three of them in all, of whom
twenty were white men.
"See," said Marie, "my father is among them, and my cousin Hernan rides
at his side."
It was true. There was Henri Marais, and just behind him, talking into
his ear, rode Hernan Pereira. I remember that the two of them reminded
me of a tale I had read about a man who was cursed with an evil genius
that drew him to some dreadful doom in spite of the promptings of his
better nature. The thin, worn, wild-eyed Marais, and the rich-faced,
carnal Pereira whispering slyly into his ear; they were exact types of
that man in the story and his evil genius who dragged him down to hell.
Prompted by some impulse, I threw my arms round Marie and embraced her,
saying:
"At least we have been very happy for a while."
"What do you mean, Allan?" she asked doubtfully.
"Only that I think our good hours are done with for the present."
"Perhaps," she answered slowly; "but at least they have been very good
hours, and if I should die to-day I am glad to have lived to win them."
Then the cavalcade of Boers came up.
Hernan Pereira, his senses sharpened perhaps by the instincts of hate
and jealousy, was the first to recognise me.
"Why, Mynheer Allan Quatermain," he said, "how is it that you are here?
How is it that you still live? Commandant," he added, turning to a
dark, sad-faced man of about sixty whom at that time I did not know,
"here is a strange thing. This Heer Quatermain, an Englishman, was with
the Governor Retief at the town of the Zulu king, as the Heer Henri
Marais can testify. Now, as we know for sure Pieter Retief and all his
people are dead, murdered by Dingaan, how then does it happen that this
man has escaped?"
"Why do you put riddles to me, Mynheer Pereira?" asked the dark Boer.
"Doubtless the Englishman will explain."
"Certainly I will, mynheer," I said. "Is it your pleasure that I should
speak now?"
The commandant hesitated. Then, having called Henri Marais apart and
talked to him for a little while, he replied:
"No, not now, I think; the matter is too serious. After we have eaten
we will listen to your story, Mynheer Quatermain, and meanwhile I
command you not to leave this place."
"Do you mean that I am a prisoner, commandant?" I asked.
"If you put it so--yes, Mynheer Quatermain--a prisoner who has to
explain how some sixty of our brothers, who were your companions, came
to be butchered like beasts in Zululand, while you escaped. Now, no
more words; by and by doubtless there will be plenty of them. Here you,
Carolus and Johannes, keep watch upon this Englishman, of whom I hear
strange stories, with your guns loaded, please, and when we send to you,
lead him before us."
"As usual, your cousin Hernan brings evil gifts," I said to Marie
bitterly. "Well, let us also eat our dinner, which perhaps the Heeren
Carolus and Johannes will do us the honour to share--bringing their
loaded guns with them."
Carolus and Johannes accepted the invitation, and from them we heard
much news, all of it terrible enough to learn, especially the details of
the massacre in that district, which, because of this fearful event is
now and always will be known as Weenen, or The Place of Weeping.
Suffice it to say that they were quite enough to take away all our
appetite, although Carolus and Johannes, who by this time had recovered
somewhat from the shock of that night of blood and terror, ate in a
fashion which might have filled Hans himself with envy.
Shortly after we had finished our meal, Hans, who, by the way, seemed to
have quite recovered from his fatigues, came to remove the dishes. He
informed us that all the Boers were having a great "talk," and that they
were about to send for me. Sure enough, a few minutes later two armed
men arrived and ordered me to follow them. I turned to say some words
of farewell to Marie, but she said:
"I go where you do, husband," and, as no objection was made by the
guard, she came.
About two hundred yards away, sitting under the shade of one of the
wagons, we found the Boers. Six of them were seated in a semicircle
upon stools or whatever they could find, the black-browed commandant
being in the centre and having in front of him a rough table on which
were writing materials.
To the left of these six were the Prinsloos and Meyers, being those folk
whom I had rescued from Delagoa, and to the right the other Boers who
had ridden into the camp that morning. I saw at a glance that a
court-martial had been arranged and that the six elders were the judges,
the commandant being the president of the court.
I do not give their names purposely, since I have no wish that the
actual perpetrators of the terrible blunder that I am about to describe
should be known to posterity. After all, they acted honestly according
to their lights, and were but tools in the hand of that villain Hernan
Pereira.
"Allan Quatermain," said the commandant, "you are brought here to be
tried by a court-martial duly constituted according to the law published
in the camps of the emigrant Boers. Do you acknowledge that law?"
"I know that there is such a law, commandant," I answered, "but I do not
acknowledge the authority of your court-martial to try a man who is no
Boer, but a subject of the Queen of Great Britain."
"We have considered that point, Allan Quatermain," said the commandant,
"and we disallow it. You will remember that in the camp at Bushman's
River, before you rode with the late Pieter Retief to the chief
Sikonyela, when you were given command of the Zulus who went with him,
you took an oath to interpret truly and to be faithful in all things to
the General Retief, to his companions and to his cause. That oath we
hold gives this court jurisdiction over you."
"I deny your jurisdiction," I answered, "although it is true that I took
an oath to interpret faithfully, and I request that a note of my denial
may be made in writing."
"It shall be done," said the commandant, and laboriously he made the
note on the paper before him.
When he had finished he looked up and said: "The charge against you,
Allan Quatermain, is that, being one of the commission who recently
visited the Zulu king Dingaan, under command of the late Governor and
General Pieter Retief, you did falsely and wickedly urge the said
Dingaan to murder the said Pieter Retief and his companions, and
especially Henri Marais, your father-in-law, and Hernando Pereira, his
nephew, with both of whom you had a quarrel. Further, that afterwards
you brought about the said murder, having first arranged with the king
of the Zulus that you should be removed to a place of safety while it
was done. Do you plead Guilty or Not guilty?"
Now when I heard this false and abominable charge my rage and
indignation caused me to laugh aloud.
"Are you mad, commandant," I exclaimed, "that you should say such
things? On what evidence is this wicked lie advanced against me?"
"No, Allan Quatermain, I am not mad," he replied, "although it is true
that through your evil doings I, who have lost my wife and three
children by the Zulu spears, have suffered enough to make me mad. As
for the evidence against you, you shall hear it. But first I will write
down that you plead Not guilty."
He did so, then said:
"If you will acknowledge certain things it will save us all much time,
of which at present we have little to spare. Those things are that
knowing what was going to happen to the commission, you tried to avoid
accompanying it. Is that true?"
"No," I answered. "I knew nothing of what was going to happen to the
commission, though I feared something, having but just saved my friends
there"--and I pointed to the Prinsloos--"from death at the hands of
Dingaan. I did not wish to accompany it for another reason: that I had
been married on the day of its starting to Marie Marais. Still, I went
after all because the General Retief, who was my friend, asked me to
come, to interpret for him."
Now some of the Boers present said:
"That is true. We remember."
But the commandant continued, taking no heed of my answer or these
interruptions.
"Do you acknowledge that you were on bad terms with Henri Marais and
with Hernan Pereira?"
"Yes," I answered; "because Henri Marais did all in his power to prevent
my marriage with his daughter Marie, behaving very ill to me who had
saved his life and that of his people who remained to him up by Delagoa,
and afterwards at Umgungundhlovu. Because, too, Hernan Pereira strove
to rob me of Marie, who loved me. Moreover, although I had saved him
when he lay sick to death, he afterwards tried to murder me by shooting
me down in a lonely place. Here is the mark of it," and I touched the
little scar upon the side of my forehead.
"That is true; he did so, the stinkcat," shouted the Vrouw Prinsloo, and
was ordered to be silent.
"Do you acknowledge," went on the commandant, "that you sent to warn
your wife and those with her to depart from the camp on the Bushman's
River, because it was going to be attacked, charging them to keep the
matter secret, and that afterwards both you and your Hottentot servant
alone returned safely from Zululand, where all those who went with you
lie dead?"
"I acknowledge," I answered, "that I wrote to tell my wife to come to
this place where I had been building houses, as you see, and to bring
with her any of our companions who cared to trek here, or, failing that,
to go alone. This I did because Dingaan had told me, whether in jest or
in earnest I did not know, that he had given orders that my said wife
should be kidnapped, as he desired to make her one of his women, having
thought her beautiful when he saw her. Also what I did was done with
the knowledge and by the wish of the late Governor Retief, as can be
shown by his writing on my letter. I acknowledge also that I escaped
when all my brothers were killed, as did the Hottentot Hans, and if you
wish to know I will tell you how we escaped and why."
The commandant made a further note, then he said:
"Let the witness Hernan Pereira be called and sworn."
This was done and he was ordered to tell his tale.
As may be imagined, it was a long tale, and one that had evidently been
prepared with great care. I will only set down its blackest falsehoods.
He assured the court that he had no enmity against me and had never
attempted to kill me or do me any harm, although it was true that his
heart felt sore because, against her father's will, I had stolen away
the affection of his betrothed, who was now my wife. He said that he
had stopped in Zululand because he knew that I should marry her as soon
as she came of age, and it was too great pain for him to see this done.
He said that while he was there, before the arrival of the commission,
Dingaan and some of his captains had told him that I had again and again
urged him, Dingaan, to kill the Boers because they were traitors to the
sovereign of England, but that he, Dingaan, had refused to do so. He
said that when Retief came up with the commission he tried to warn him
against me, but that Retief would not listen, being infatuated with me
as many others were, and he looked towards the Prinsloos.
Then came the worst of all. He said that while he was engaged in
mending some guns for Dingaan in one of his private huts, he overheard a
conversation between myself and Dingaan which took place outside the
hut, I, of course, not knowing that he was within. The substance of
this conversation was that I again urged Dingaan to kill the Boers and
afterwards to send an impi to massacre their wives and families. Only I
asked him to give me time to get away a girl whom I had married from
among them, and with her a few of my own friends whom I wished should be
spared, as I intended to become a kind of chief over them, and if he
would grant it me, to hold all the land of Natal under his rule and the
protection of the English. To these proposals Dingaan answered that
"they seemed wise and good, and that he would think them over very
carefully."
Pereira said further that coming out of the hut after Dingaan had gone
away he reproached me bitterly for my wickedness, and announced that he
would warn the Boers, which he did subsequently by word of mouth and in
writing. That thereon I caused him to be detained by the Zulus while I
went to Retief and told him some false story about him, Pereira, which
caused Retief to drive him out of his camp and give orders that none of
the Boers should so much as speak to him. That then he did the only
thing he could. Going to his uncle, Henri Marais, he told him, not all
the truth, but that he had learnt for certain that his daughter Marie
was in dreadful danger of her life because of some intended attack of
the Zulus, and that all the Boers among whom she dwelt were also in
danger of their lives.
Therefore he suggested to Henri Marais that as the General Retief was
besotted and would not listen to his story, the best thing they could do
was to ride away and warn the Boers. This then they did secretly,
without the knowledge of Retief, but being delayed upon their journey by
one accident and another, which he set out in detail, they only reached
the Bushman's River too late, after the massacre had taken place.
Subsequently, as the commandant knew, hearing a rumour that Marie Marais
and other Boers had trekked to this place before the slaughter, they
came here and learned that they had done so upon a warning sent to them
by Allan Quatermain, whereon they returned and communicated the news to
the surviving Boers at Bushman's River.
That was all he had to say.
Then, as I reserved my cross-examination until I heard all the evidence
against me, Henri Marais was sworn and corroborated his nephew's
testimony on many points as to my relations to his daughter, his
objection to my marriage to her because I was an Englishman whom he
disliked and mistrusted, and so forth. He added further that it was
true Pereira had told him he had sure information that Marie and the
Boers were in danger from an attack upon them which had been arranged
between Allan Quatermain and Dingaan; that he also had written to Retief
and tried to speak to him but was refused a hearing. Thereon he had
ridden away from Umgungundhlovu to try to save his daughter and warn the
Boers. That was all he had to say.
As there were no further witnesses for the prosecution I cross-examined
these two at full length, but absolutely without results, since every
vital question that I asked was met with a direct negative.
Then I called my witnesses, Marie, whose evidence they refused to hear
on the ground that she was my wife and prejudiced, the Vrouw Prinsloo
and her family, and the Meyers. One and all told a true story of my
relations with Hernan Pereira, Henri Marais, and Dingaan, so far as they
knew them.
After this, as the commandant declined to take the evidence of Hans
because he was a Hottentot and my servant, I addressed the court,
relating exactly what had taken place between me and Dingaan, and how I
and Hans came to escape on our second visit to his kraal. I pointed out
also that unhappily for myself I could not prove my words, since Dingaan
was not available as a witness, and all the others were dead. Further,
I produced my letter to Marie, which was endorsed by Retief, and the
letter to Retief signed by Marais and Pereira which remained in my
possession.
By the time that I had finished my speech the sun was setting and
everyone was tired out. I was ordered to withdraw under guard, while
the court consulted, which it did for a long while. Then I was called
forward again and the commandant said:
"Allan Quatermain, after prayer to God we have considered this case to
the best of our judgment and ability. On the one hand we note that you
are an Englishman, a member of a race which hates and has always
oppressed our people, and that it was to your interest to get rid of two
of them with whom you had quarrelled. The evidence of Henri Marais and
Hernan Pereira, which we cannot disbelieve, shows that you were wicked
enough, either in order to do this, or because of your malice against
the Boer people, to plot their destruction with a savage. The result is
that some seven hundred men, women, and children have lost their lives
in a very cruel manner, whereas you, your servant, your wife and your
friends have alone escaped unharmed. For such a crime as this a hundred
deaths could not pay; indeed, God alone can give to it its just
punishment, and to Him it is our duty to send you to be judged. We
condemn you to be shot as a traitor and a murderer, and may He have
mercy on your soul."
At these dreadful words Marie fell to the ground fainting and a pause
ensued while she was carried off to the Prinsloos' house, whither the
vrouw followed to attend her. Then the commandant went on:
"Still, although we have thus passed judgment on you; because you are an
Englishman against whom it might be said that we had prejudices, and
because you have had no opportunity of preparing a defence, and no
witnesses to the facts, since all those whom you say you could have
called are dead, we think it right that this unanimous sentence of ours
should be confirmed by a general court of the emigrant Boers. Therefore
to-morrow morning you will be taken with us to the Bushman's River camp,
where the case will be settled, and, if necessary, execution done in
accordance with the verdict of the generals and veld-cornets of that
camp. Meanwhile you will be kept in custody in your own house. Now
have you anything to say against this sentence?"
"Yes, this," I answered, "that although you do not know it, it is an
unjust sentence, built up on the lies of one who has always been my
enemy, and of a man whose brain is rotten. I never betrayed the Boers.
If anyone betrayed them it was Hernan Pereira himself, who, as I proved
to the General Retief, had been praying Dingaan to kill me, and whom
Retief threatened to put upon his trial for this very crime, for which
reason and no other Pereira fled from the kraal, taking his tool Henri
Marais with him. You have asked God to judge me. Well, I ask God to
judge him and Henri Marais also, and I know He will in one way or
another. As for me, I am ready to die, as I have been for months while
serving the cause of you Boers. Shoot me now if you will, and make an
end. But I tell you that if I escape your hands I will not suffer this
treatment to go unpunished. I will lay my case before the rulers of my
people, and if necessary before my Queen, yes, if I have to travel to
London to do it, and you Boers shall learn that you cannot condemn an
innocent Englishman upon false testimony and not pay the price. I tell
you that price shall be great if I live, and if I die it shall be
greater still."
Now these words, very foolish words, I admit, which being young and
inexperienced I spoke in my British pride, I could see made a great
impression upon my judges. They believed, to be fair to them, that they
had passed a just sentence. Blinded by prejudice and falsehood, and
maddened by the dreadful losses their people had suffered during the
past few days at the hands of a devilish savage, they believed that I
was the instigator of those losses, one who ought to die. Indeed, all,
or nearly all the Boers were persuaded that Dingaan was urged to this
massacre by the counsels of Englishmen. The mere fact of my own and my
servant's miraculous escape, when all my companions had perished, proved
my guilt to them without the evidence of Pereira, which, being no
lawyers, they thought sufficient to justify their verdict.
Still, they had an uneasy suspicion that this evidence was not
conclusive, and might indeed be rejected in toto by a more competent
court upon various grounds. Also they knew themselves to be rebels who
had no legal right to form a court, and feared the power of the long arm
of England, from which for a little while they had escaped. If I were
allowed to tell my tale to the Parliament in London, what might not
happen to them, they wondered--to them who had ventured to pass sentence
of death upon a subject of the Queen of Great Britain? Might not this
turn the scale against them? Might not Britain arise in wrath and crush
them, these men who dared to invoke her forms of law in order to kill
her citizen? Those, as I learned afterwards, were the thoughts that
passed through their minds.
Also another thought passed through their minds--that if the sentence
were executed at once, a dead man cannot appeal, and that here I had no
friends to take up my cause and avenge me. But of all this they said
nothing. Only at a sign I was marched away to my little house and
imprisoned under guard.
Now I propose to tell the rest of the history of these tragic events as
they happened, although some of them did not come to my knowledge till
the morrow or afterwards, for I think this will be the more simple and
the easier plan.
