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South Africa unveils fresh bailout funds for power monopoly Eskom

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let em alone. i must go, he said. characteraureatalandarmyat stake. set a thief to catch a thief, eh, major? said i. what do you mean, sir? he stuttered. let me go. if you move, i shoot, major, said i, bringing out my weapon. i never saw greater astonishment on human countenance. he swore loudly, and then cried: hi, stop himhes madhes going to shoot! a shout of laughter rose from the crew around us, for they felt exquisite appreciation of my supposed joke. right you are, martin! cried one. keep him quiet. we wont go home till morning. the major turned to the window. it was a moonlight night, and as i looked with him i saw the courtyard full of soldiers. who was in command? the answer to that meant much to me. this sight somewhat sobered the major. a mutiny! he cried. the soldiers have risen! go to bed, said the junior ensign. look out of window! he cried. they all staggered to the window. as the soldiers saw them, they raised a shout. i could not distinguish whether it was a greeting or a threat. they took it as the latter, and turned to the door. stop! i cried; i shoot the first man who opens the door. in wonder they turned on me. i stood facing them, revolver in hand. they waited huddled together for an instant, then made a rush at me; i fired, but missed. i had a vision of a poised decanter; a second later, the missile caught me in the chest and hurled me back against the wall. as i fell i dropped my weapon, and they were upon me. i thought it was all over; but as they surged round, in the madness of drink and anger, i, looking through their ranks, saw the door open and a crowd of men rush in. who was at their head? thank god! it was the colonel, and his voice rose high above the tumult: order, gentlemen, order! then to his men he added: each mark your man, and two of you bring mr. martin here. i was saved. to explain how, i must tell you what had been happening at the golden house, and how the night attack had fared. chapter x. two surprises. it is a sad necessity that compels us to pry into the weaknesses of our fellow-creatures, and seek to turn them to our own profit. i am not philosopher enough to say whether this course of conduct derives any justification from its universality, but in the region of practice, i have never hesitated to place myself on a moral level with those with whom i had to deal. i may occasionally even have left the other party to make this needful adjustment, and i have never known him fail to do so. i felt, therefore, very little scruple in making use of the one weak spot discoverable in the defenses of our redoubtable opponent, his excellency the president of aureataland. no doubt the readers eye has before now detected the joint in that great mans armor at which we directed our missile. as a lover, i grudged the employment of the signorina in this service; as a politician, i was proud of the device; as a human being, i recognized, what we are very ready to recognize, that it did not become me to refuse to work with such instruments as appeared to be put into my hands. but whatever may be the verdict of moralists on our device, events proved its wisdom. the president had no cause to suspect a trap; therefore, like a sensible man, he chose to spend the evening with the signorina rather than with his gallant officers. with equally good taste, he elected to spend it _tête-à-tête_ with her, when she gave him the opportunity. in our subsequent conversations, the signorina was not communicative as to how the early hours of the evening passed. she preferred to begin her narrative from the point when their solitude was interrupted. as i rely on her account and that of the colonel for this part of my story, i am compelled to make my start from the same moment. it appears that at a few minutes past eleven oclock, when the president was peacefully smoking a cigar and listening to the conversation of his fair guest (whom he had galvanized into an affected liveliness by alarming remarks on her apparent preoccupation), there fell upon his ear the sound of a loud knocking at the door. dinner had been served in a small room at the back of the house, and the president could not command a view of the knocker without going out on to the veranda, which ran all round the house, and walking round to the front

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