CHAPTER 2
In the inner courtyard of the Castle, many people are standing in groups. There are soldiers and servants chatting excitedly, there are the wives of the officials, several visitors to the Cape, and a few of the officials themselves.
Just inside the Castle gate, where the morning’s events took place, two young gentlemen stand. They chat half-bored, according to the custom of their class because part of their arrogance and superiority consists of not appearing interested in such banal matters as the Boers’ struggle or the soldiers’ conduct.
The one man, with a finely embroidered cravat around his neck, cinched around his joints, a purple waistcoat, and knee breeches, looks at the broken lamp against the gate ceiling.
“The mysterious rider has a quick mind,” he says with a quiet smile. He nods his head affirmatively as if he were alive in the scene, and the blonde wig on his head sways around his ears. His gray eyes are half-closed, and his well-formed facial features show an expression of satisfaction. “I would have hesitated before facing the attack of a dozen soldiers. He is indeed resourceful and fearless.”
His companion, a decked-out young fashion fanatic, looks at him with feigned shock.
“Percival Phillip,” he says indignantly, “how dare you admire the conduct of such a devilish creature! Do you realize that we were all in mortal danger last night? The governor could have been murdered in his bed tonight.”
“You are ridiculous, D’Arcy,” Percival Phillip dryly remarks. “The man is just a farmer with an imagination. He wanted to help his friends. They wanted to rescue that chap, Marthinus Wessels, over whom there is now such a fuss, from the clutches of the law.”
“But you are acting as if you approve of it!” exclaims D’Arcy Cunningham.
“Not at all, man. The fact remains, however, that he succeeded through his fearlessness. I always take my hat off to a man who can prevail against great odds.” He looks at the young man next to him with barely concealed contempt. “This is a man with whom I would like to measure my strength. He is a man!”
“And what about Captain Otto Mehrens?” D’Arcy wants to know. He is completely unaware of his friend’s disdain. “He himself is a wonderful example of a man.”
“And he lets himself be taken advantage of so easily? No way!” At that moment, a luxurious carriage rattles onto the Castle grounds. Four beautiful horses are hitched to it. The carriage drives past the two men, and they step aside slightly. Percival Phillip looks at the occupants with interest. There are two young ladies. And Percival has reason to be interested. Both ladies are stunning, but the one on his side, who glanced briefly at him, is breathtakingly beautiful. During his twenty-seven years of traveling, he had never seen the equal of this girl in any palace. Her dark, almost copper-colored hair, brown eyes, lovely complexion, and perfect features make it impossible for him to take his eyes off her until the carriage turns away. He can no longer see the inside through the window.
“Well!” says Percival Phillip, “and who might that be?”
“You do not know?” D’Arcy is surprised. “Oh, yes. I forgot. You have only been in the Colony for a few days. She is Willa Rosso
