Paulus Leroux of the Wynberg commando.' And Sean caught his breath.
'Is he a big man with red hair and a temper to go with it?'
Laughter, and then. 'Ja! that's the one. Do you know him?
'Yes. I know him.'
So my brother-in-law is now a general, Sean grinned to himself, and
then asked: 'Is this the general we are going to visit?'
'If we can find him.'
Young Dirk will meet his uncle at last-and Sean found himself
anticipating the reunion with a tingle of pleasure.
The canvas of the tent did little to moderate the volume of the voice
within. It carried clearly to where Sean waited with his escort.
'Must I drink coffee and shake hands with every rooinek we catch?
Have I not already enough work for ten men, but you must bring me
more?
Send him to one of the Field-Comets!
Send him to Pretoria and let them lock him up! Do whatever you like
with him if he is a spy-but, in the name of a merciful providence,
don't bring him to me. ' Sean smiled happily. Jan Paulus certainly
hadn't lost his voice.
There was an interval of comparative quiet while Beaver's voice mumbled
within the tent. Then again the muted bellow.
'No! I will not! Take him away.'
Sean filled his lungs, cupped his hands about his mouth and shouted at
the tent.
'Hey, you bloody Dutchman! Are you afraid to meet me again? You think
I'll knock your teeth out like I did last time. ' A few minutes of
appalling stillness, then the clattering of an overturned stool and the
flap of the tent was thrown open. Into the ma light blinking in the
glare, but scowling, the red hair that fringed his bald pate burning
like a bush-fire, and Ins shoulders hunched aggressively, came Jan
Paulus. His face turned from side to side as he searched for the
source of the insult.
'Here,' called Sean, and Jan Paulus stopped dead. Uncertainly he
peered at Sean.
'You!' He took a pace forward and then,
'It is you, isn't it.
Sean! And he began to laugh. His right hand that had been clenched
into a huge fist unfolded and was thrust forward.
'Sean! Hell, man! Sean!'
They gripped hands and grinned at each other.
'Come into the tent. Come on in, man.'
Once they were inside, Jan Paulus's first question was: 'Where's
Katrina? Where is my little sister?' and immediately the smile was
gone from Sean's face. He sat down heavily on the reinWje stool and
took off his hat before he answered.
'She's dead, Paulus. She's been dead these last four years.'
Slowly the expression on Jan Paulus's face changed until it was bleak
and hard.
'How?' he asked.
