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Updated: June 28, 2025
He sees the coxswain in his cork jacket kneeling over Captain Harry. . . Blood, says the coxswain, looking up, and the match goes out. . . "Wait a bit, says Cloete; I'll make paper spills. . . He had felt the back of books on the shelves. And so he stands lighting one spill from another while the coxswain turns poor Captain Harry over. Dead, he says. Shot through the heart.
"Cloete passes by with a damn bitter laugh, because he thinks that the fellow in a way has paid him off already, if he only knew it." My impressive ruffian drank what remained of his beer, while his black, sunken eyes looked at me over the rim. "I don't quite understand this," I said. "In what way?"
In comes Cloete out of the room at the back with some papers in his hand. Partner. You understand?" "Aha!" I said. "The few hundred pounds." "And that tongue of his," he growled. "Don't forget that tongue. Some of his tales must have opened George Dunbar's eyes a bit as to what business means." "A plausible fellow," I suggested. "H'm! You must have it in your own way of course. Well. Partner.
I cried. "Now I understand." "No, you don't," he growled, his black, contemptuous stare turning on me crushingly. "I beg your pardon," I murmured. "H'm! Very well, then. Captain Harry looks very stern, and George crumples all up inside. . . He sees through me, he thinks. . . Of course it could not be; but George, by that time, was scared at his own shadow. He is shirking it with Cloete, too.
When we got aft, we had an account to hear, which naturally very much shocked us; however, I will narrate it as things occurred. We found that the vessel we were on board was the Dutch colonial brig Swalen commanded by Lieutenant Cloete.
He was up to that, too. A man who's been in the patent-medicine trade will be up to anything from pitch-and-toss to wilful murder. And that's a bit of hard truth for you. Don't mind what they do think they can carry off anything and talk themselves out of anything all the world's a fool to them. Business man, too, Cloete. Came over with a few hundred pounds.
I have no claim on Captain Cloete and his officers, and, as you know, I have no money; but I am very certain my friends will repay you all you expend on my account, and will do their best to show their gratitude to you besides. They were angry with me for marrying Captain Van Deck; but my misfortunes will have softened their hearts, and now he is gone they will forgive me."
Jameson's force. I have, etc., C. VAN BOESCHOTEN, Acting State Secretary. His Honour H. Cloete, Acting British Agent, Pretoria. When I noticed the white flag, I instantly ordered De la Rey to approach the enemy. Instead of De la Rey, Hans Klopper, one of the men of Commandant Potgieter, went. He brought back a note from Willoughby to me.
Cloete mostly passed away his evenings in saloon bars. No drunkard, though, Cloete; for company; liked to talk to all sorts there; just habit; American fashion. "So Cloete takes that chap out more than once. Not very good company, though. Little to say for himself. Sits quiet and drinks what's given to him, eyes always half closed, speaks sort of demure. . . I've had misfortunes, he says.
A man should take what God sends him standing up. . . Suddenly his voice breaks, and he squeezes Cloete's arm: It seems as if I couldn't leave her, he whispers. Cloete looks round at the men like a lot of huddled sheep and thinks to himself: They won't stay. . . Suddenly the ship lifts a little and sets down with a thump. Tide rising. Everybody beginning to look out for the life-boat.
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