'I am sorry,' I replied, 'but if you want me to deal like a friend with you, I can only say I can't believe it.'
'Good God,' he cried, getting up from the desk and walking about the room.
'This is maddening. Speak plainly, lay your proofs before me, and I will undertake to demolish every one of them.'
'If I show you proofs that you can't demolish,' I said, 'will you deal fairly by me and tell me all you really know, and what I want to know?'
'Certainly,' he exclaimed. 'I give you my promise; I have nothing to conceal.'
'All right,' I cried, 'I will give you the proofs one after another. Here is the first.'
Sir Hercules Robinson's face was a study in conflicting emotions as I went on.
'When you first got news on the Sunday morning that Jameson had crossed the frontier, you wired to him to return, and you wired to Krueger saying that you had ordered Jameson to return, and that the raid was not authorized by Her Majesty's Government.'
'Yes,' Robinson broke in sharply, 'that's what I did.'
'You must have expected an answer in two hours,' I went on. 'If not an answer from Jameson, certainly an answer from Krueger.'
'Of course,' replied Robinson, 'and I got a reply from Krueger.'
'Pardon me for contradicting you,' I replied, 'but you did not. You got from Krueger a mere statement that Jameson had crossed the border at a certain hour with an armed force. You must have known from that telegram that President Krueger hadn't had your telegram.'
'No,' replied Robinson, 'I see what you mean, but we were all very much excited and nervous, and I drew no such inference. The first thing I did was to send to Rhodes to ask if he knew anything about Jameson's act. I wanted to consult with him.'
'I suppose he was not to be seen?' I said.
'That's true,' said Robinson. 'But how did you know?'
'Easy to be guessed,' I replied carelessly.
'Rhodes returned no reply to any of my messages: in fact, he wouldn't see my messengers,' Robinson went on.
'But at ten o'clock,' I insisted, 'you had a call from Jan Hofmeyr. He asked you to send out a proclamation, a public proclamation declaring that Her Majesty's Government had nothing to do with the raid, and that you had recalled Jameson by wire. You would not do this.'
'I didn't see the necessity of it,' Hercules Robinson answered. 'I had wired to Jameson, and I had wired to Krueger, and I considered that enough. Krueger knew that the raid was unauthorized, and that was the main point.'
'But Krueger did not know it,' I replied, 'and you must have known that he didn't know.'
'What do you mean?' cried Robinson. 'I knew nothing at all of it.' And then he added, as if to himself, 'When I was up at Pretoria, Krueger never said that to me.'
'Outsiders see most of the game,' I went on. 'Let us go back to that Saturday.
You have an exciting morning, but you get your lunch, and after lunch at about, I suppose, three-thirty o'clock, you get another wire from Krueger repeating his news, amplifying it, saying that Jameson had crossed the frontier with Maxim guns, and asking you what you are going to do. Now you must have known that he hadn't yet got your first telegram.'
'No, I didn't know,' said Robinson. 'It ail passed in the hurry and excitement of the moment.'
'But why didn't you duplicate your telegram to him,' I asked, 'saying that the raid was not authorized, and that you would order Jameson's return?'
'I did,' he said.
'No, you didn't,' I replied, 'not at once, that is. Later that afternoon,' I went on,
'or rather that evening, you got a telegram from Krueger again giving you the news, and insisting on a reply.'
'You are right,' Robinson broke in, 'I remember now; it was that last telegram that I answered. But how did you know all this?'
'How I know doesn't matter,' I replied. 'The point is, I am giving you facts.
You must have taken great care that the second telegram of yours, after you had received three from Krueger, each of which showed that he had not received your first wire; I say, you must have taken extraordinary care to see that the second telegram reached him at once.'
'It must have reached him in an hour,' said Robinson carelessly, 'just as the first must.'
'You would be surprised to know,' I replied, 'that it didn't reach him at all that night, nor till far on in the next day. You left Krueger to his Hollander counselors for a day and a half without any word from you.'
'Good God!' cried Robinson. 'It can't be true; yet it would explain his attitude to me at first. But how can it be? It's absurd.'
'Send and find out when your telegrams went,' I urged. 'You must have a book of telegrams, where times and everything are entered?'
'Of course, of course,' he cried. 'That is all in the hands of the Imperial Secretary, Sir Graham Bower. I will ring for him.'
He rang, and when a man came, sent him to ask Sir Graham Bower to come at once. Two minutes later Sir Graham Bower appeared: an ordinary dark man, unimportant looking, smiling, I thought, a little nervously, a set smile.
'Oh! Bower,' broke out Robinson, 'Harris has a most extraordinary tale.
Pardon me, I must introduce you. This is Sir Graham Bower, the Imperial Secretary, and this is a friend of mine, Frank Harris, the editor of the Saturday Review whom we have talked about.'
We bowed and shook hands.
'Bower,' Robinson broke in again, 'Harris has brought a most extraordinary story that on the Sunday morning when we got the first news of the raid, my telegram to Krueger, telling him we had wired ordering Jameson to return, and that the raid was not authorized by Her Majesty's Government, never went oft. I don't know how he knows, but that is what he says.'
'No, no,' I broke in. 'I say that it didn't reach Pretoria that day, and not till well on in the next day.'
'Nonsense,' cried Robinson. 'Please get the telegraph book, Bower, and prove it to Harris.'
Bower turned and went out of the room, still with the same smile on his face. I felt sure then he was playing a part. I thought I had found the villain of the piece, but waited for the proof. Meanwhile Robinson and I stood together in tense expectation.
In two minutes Bower returned with a large book in his hand.
'The telegram,' he said, 'I find, went off at twelve-thirty.'
'Twelve-thirty!' cried Robinson. 'You must be mistaken. That is hours after I sent it.'
'It went off in the usual way,' Bower remarked, with studied carelessness.
'Usual way!' said Robinson, looking at him. 'But it was of the first importance.'
'There was a great deal of excitement and running to and fro,' he said.
'I know, I know,' said Robinson. 'I sent you to Rhodes-but still, Bower- twelve-thirty.'
A thought came to me, and I drew the bow at a venture.
'But you have a special form,' I said, 'for telegrams from power to power, a special form of telegram that takes precedence over all others. Why was this telegram sent as an ordinary telegram, and not on your special form?'
I had hardly begun to speak when Bower's face changed expression. I knew I had guessed right.
'Of course it went on the proper form,' cried Robinson. 'There can be no doubt of it, can there, Bower? You can prove it.'
I smiled. Bower said very lightly, too lightly, 'I suppose so.'
'But think, Bower,' Robinson went on, 'think what it means.'
'I can't be sure. I'm not sure,' replied Bower.
'Not sure,' cried Robinson, turning on him, 'not sure! But you can't realize what it means, man. Harris here says that we got a second telegram from Krueger in the afternoon, telling us of the raid again and asking us what
