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 Rossouw. Her father was a wealthy farmer here in the Stellenbosch district."

"What do you mean by "was?"

"The old man moved away."

"Oh. One of the martyrs. One of the innocent fools who leave everything behind to go into the wilderness and have their throats cut."

"Maybe so, yes." D'Arcy shudders a bit at hearing such language. He does not dare allow such thoughts into his imagination. It is frightening. He may never sleep again. "But he was one of the people who stood up for what he believed in and threw in his lot with the others because he felt he was not being treated fairly."

"And the daughter, Miss Willa?" asks Percival, looking at where the carriage stops in front of the Castle. Willa Rossouw and her friend climb out and walk up the steps.

"She is staying with friends in the city. The one with her is Delene Lochner. There was another daughter too, Elmien, but she is overseas."

"Why are they not with their parents?"

"I do not know. Willa is engaged to Count de Moreaux. You have heard of him, surely?"

"Yes. He lives on Buitengracht Street. I would surely like to meet him." Percival Phillip rubs his chin in thought. "Oh, I see," he says thoughtfully, "then he is the lucky-chosen one."

"But do you not know about the big commotion from a while back?"

"What commotion?"

"Yes, you may not know, but I thought you might have heard of it. People are still talking about it."

"About what, man?" interrupted Percival impatiently.

"About Count de Moreaux and his nephew, the Masked Robber, of course."

"Which nephew? Look, D'Arcy, let us walk over to the Kat. I want to see her up close when she comes out. Tell me everything right from the beginning."

"Well," began D'Arcy Cunningham in his ponderous way, "there was a mild reign of terror here in the Cape a year or so ago. A guy named the Masked Robber robbed every honest person in the land."

"What are you trying to say, D'Arcy?"

"He had a gang. Reckless bush robbers! They stopped carriages along the road and robbed people of every penny. They stole officials' livestock and property. Not only that, but they even broke into courtrooms and removed prisoners."

"But did they attack everyone?" asked Percival Phillip uninterestedly.

"Oh no. There were many stories. The Masked Robber only attacked the rich and government officials, and then he distributed his loot to the poor."

"Well, well," Percival rubbed his chin. "That is interesting."

"What is interesting, Percy?" asked D'Arcy, who did not like it when someone else thought or deduced things beyond his reach.

"It does not matter. You say this Masked Robber was Count de Moreaux's nephew. What happened then?"

"There were many stories, but the facts are more or less as follows: The Count arrived here, and hardly had he arrived when the Masked Robber caught him. He beat him badly one night, but the Count managed to escape safely. Then the Count said that it was his black sheep nephew."

"Who?"

"The Masked Robber, of course. Thereafter the Cape was in turmoil for a few days, and then one night, the Count and the Masked Robber met again. The Count sent his nephew to the hereafter with a sword, and from then on, there was peace."

"And you say De Moreaux was already in love with Willa Rossouw at that time?"

"Yes."

"What happened to the gang?" asked Percival Phillip further."

"I think the Count felt ashamed of the fact that he had such a nephew. There was a quiet funeral for the Masked Robber. Willa's sister, Elmien, fell in love with the Masked Robber's lieutenant, also a young nobleman, Jacques, and the Count allowed them, as well as the gang, to leave the country. It was probably thanks to Willa's influence on him because, as far as I know, the Count was a harsh, reckless man without forgiveness for those who tried to oppose him."

"You say he was a harsh man."

"I am telling you that Willa most likely influenced him. Anyway, now he is a soft-hearted guy who practically stays in his house all day."

"Mmm..." Percival rubs his chin. They walk past the luxury coach in front of the Kat. "You say these are the facts. But what are the rumors or stories that were circulating at the same time?"

"Man, there are many. I..."

At that moment, Captain Otto Mehrens comes out the door. He strides with his big boots as if he feels like trampling the earth in front of him. Deep furrows lie over his forehead, and his eyebrows lower over his eyes. He looks wild and murderous at the doorman, as if he feels like crushing him with one punch. And the doorman, who knows the captain, backs off slightly. It looks like he expects a blow.

Captain Otto Mehrens has reason to feel dissatisfied. He had never been insulted like this before in his life.

After the commotion of the previous day, the governor's secretary came to him to find out what had happened. Mehrens had half-brutally and still in a bad mood told him that everything was under control and that he could go to sleep.

This morning, the governor summoned the captain. Otto Mehrens found him restless, pacing around his office.

"Good morning, Excellency," the captain said in his self-assured way.

"Good morning!" the governor snapped at him. "How dare you come in here with a good morning!"

"But, Excellency..."

"Where are the four men who tried to break in violently last night?"

Otto Mehrens lowered his eyes. He did not immediately know how to answer.

"And what is this nonsense about a mysterious rider who creates such fear in you as if he were a ghost?" the governor continued.

"There was no fear..."

"Now where is he? You told me you would defend the Castle against a commando. Where are the five men who launched an attack last night?"

"Their attack failed, Excellency." Otto Mehrens had to suppress his feeling of humiliation.

"Are you using that as an excuse? You have four men under your command, and yet a single rider appears on the scene and snatches them from your hands!"

"This would not have happened if my soldiers had executed my orders promptly,"...