I must, parenthetically, crave indulgence for these apparently
irrelevant details. But as, in this chronicle, I am mainly
concerned with the career of Leonard Boyce, I have no option but
to give them. They are necessary for a conception of the character
of a remarkable man to whom I have every reason and every
honourable desire to render justice. It is necessary, too, that I
should state clearly the manner in which I happened to learn the
facts of the affair at Vilboek's Farm, for I should not like you
to think that I have given a credulous ear to idle slander.
It was in Cape Town, whither I had been despatched, on a false
alarm of enteric. I was walking with Johnny Dacre up Adderley
Street, dun with kahki, when he met his brother Reginald, who was
promptly introduced to Johnny's second in command. Reggie was off
to hospital to see one of his men who had been badly hurt.
"It's the chap," he said to his brother, "who was with Boyce
through that shady affair at Vilboek's Farm."
"I don't know why you call it a shady affair," said I, somewhat
acidly. "I know Captain Boyce--he is a near neighbour of mine at
home--and he has proved himself to be a gallant officer and a
brave man.
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