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Updated: June 2, 2025
Whether the affair of Bronkhorst Spruit can be called an act of treachery on the part of the Boers is rather a nice question. Colonel Anstruther's words the words of a dying man rather go to prove that he was unfairly treated, though he does not say so directly.
"Yes, it's quite true. I interfered with his little games, and he gave me the usual reward of the devil's apothecary. Leave Iris alone. At present she is strung up to an intense pitch of gratitude, having barely escaped a terrible fate. Let her come back to the normal. Anstruther's shady record must gradually leak out. That will disgust her. In a week she will appeal to you to buy him off.
He told me she had a nice voice, well worth some good finishing lessons, and Madame Martelli seems to be taking great pains with her." Lady Strangways smiled as she thought of the immense difference that lay between Mr. Anstruther's conception of the quality of his granddaughter's voice, and that voice as it actually was. But she had no time to stay and enlighten Mrs. Murray as to the truth.
On the day that Captain Robert Anstruther's name appeared in the Gazette, reinstating him to his rank and regiment, Iris and he were married in the English Church at Hong Kong, for it was his wife's wish that the place which witnessed his ignominy should also witness his triumph.
"The moment you get Anstruther's reply," decisively replied Johnstone. "I'll be away for a couple of weeks in all!" Hawke turned paler than his wont, but he mused in silence and cheerfully finished his coffee and cognac.
To attempt to dissuade her was to throw her more closely into that rival's arms. The right course was to appear resigned, saddened, compelled against his will to reveal the distressing truth. Further, he counted on Anstruther's quick temper as an active agent. Such a man would be the first to rebel against an assumption of pitying tolerance.
"My accounts, I presume," he had muttered, thrusting them in his pocket. But, when he had read Captain Anstruther's formal note, he tore open the letter of the great French Banking Company. The two letters curtly illustrated the old saw, that "it never rains, but it pours!" With a fluttering heart poor Justine Delande watched her undeclared lover's blackening face.
Claire Atterbury, the wealthy widow's purchase of a handsome boy-husband fresh from Sandhurst. All this with Jack Blunt's long expected ruin, and a spicy court-martial or two, furnished a running accompaniment to Anstruther's expensive "personally conducted tour" into the intricacies of ecarte, led on by the coolest safety player who ever fleeced a griffin. Truly these were golden moments.
You must remember that the French army came along here, and I expect they must have eaten nearly everything up on their way, and you may be sure that Anstruther's brigade gleaned all they left. As we marched from the Mondego we found the villagers well supplied better a good deal than places of the same size would be in Ireland except at our first halting-place."
But I've got to do the trick before he finds out the falsity of Anstruther's so-called telegram. And, first, I must have something to sell. She is the devil's own for sly nerve, is my lady." "She is too smart for us, as yet," soothingly said Ram Lal. "But wait; wait till they return! Pay me well and I will find out all that goes on. I can always get into the marble house at night.
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