People called him the very model of a soldier. He was
always admired and feared by his men. His fierce eye and deep,
resonant voice, and a suggestion of hidden strength, even of
brutality, commanded implicit obedience. But both glance and voice
would soften caressingly and his manner convey a charm which made
him popular with men--brother officers and private soldiers alike
--and with women. With regard to the latter--to put things crudely
--they saw in him the essential, elemental male. Of that I am
convinced. It was the open secret of his many successes. And he
had a buoyant, boyish, disarming, chivalrous way with him. If he
desired a woman's lips he would always begin by kissing the hem of
her skirt.
Had I not known what I did, I, an easy-going sort of Christian
temperamentally inclined to see the best in my fellow-creatures,
and, as I boastingly said a little while ago, a trained judge of
men, should doubtless have fallen, like most other people, under
the spell of his fascination. But whenever I met him, I used to
look at him and say to myself: "What's at the back of you anyway?
What about that business at Vilboek's Farm?"
Now this is what I knew--with the reservation I have made above--
and to this day he is not aware of my knowledge.
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