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She would evacuate it, when he could manage to get hold of Nixey's mouse-coloured trotter and the spider, left in the care of Van Busch's good friend Bough, at Haargrond Plaats. A dash for freedom then. "Speshul. Hextry Speshul!"
And the message that came through couched in queer, ambiguous language, and purportin' to come from an old friend was a message for the young lady who is now Mrs. Saxham!" Saxham's eyes flickered dangerously. He said not a word. The Major went on: "My wife didn't then and there identify the voice with Van Busch's.
Casey who did not exist. His light eyes, that were set flat in their shallow orbits like an adder's, looked about and all around the place, as he stroked the dense brake of black-brown beard that cleverly filled in the interval between Mr. Van Busch's luxuriant whiskers. Presently he stooped and picked up a little tan-leather glove, lying in a tuft of pink flowers.
"But my good heart stopped me. The country wasn't safe for a couple of women to go looping about," he added. "And one of them with two hundred pounds in Bank of England notes stitched into the front of her stays...." "Five hundred pounds," said the Secretary, with pleasantly twinkling spectacles. Van Busch's stare was admirable in its incredulity. "Sure, no, brother; not so much as that?"
Neither the fiery denunciations of Fra Girolamo Savonarola, nor the cold sarcasms of Erasmus of Rotterdam had a more lasting effect on the world than had Busch's missionary zeal or Geiler's ascetic discourses. Then arose Martin Luther, and centered in himself all those scandals and floating heresies, which for a hundred years had poisoned the spiritual and intellectual atmosphere.
On May 7, 1885, Germany gave up her claims to that important position, in consideration of gaining at the expense of England in the Cameroons . Here again a passage from Busch's record deserves quotation. In a conversation which he had with Bismarck on January 5, 1886, he put the question: "Why have we not been able to secure the Santa Lucia Bay?" I asked.
I shall not take my maid, as she wishes for her own reasons to remain behind. Please have the mare and spider here by mid-day coffee-time. We can drive north towards Haargrond and double back when we're beyond the lines, as the coursed hare would do." Van Busch's red mouth gleamed, curved back from his tobacco-stained teeth. He said with meaning: "Boers shoot hares not run them."
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