This is the first time that the Knolly Estate has allowed the great man's memoirs to be published. What follows is the thirty second chapter of 'The African Adventure'.

Bertie rushed from the library and up the stairs like a man possessed. Elspeth and I followed at a much more leisurely pace, chuckling at poor Bertie's recent change from sulk to man of action. By the time we got to our rooms, Bertie had festooned the bed with all manner of odds and ends, many of which I could only guess at their purpose.

He looked so industrious that I hadn't the heart to disturb him; Elspeth, however, was having none of it and coughed very theatrically. Bertie looked up at the pair of us through an amazing pair of spectacles that fair made Elspeth jump out of her skin. It was hardly surprising, for the lenses that Bertie now had strapped to his head gave him the appearance of a fish-eyed creature from some unknown depths.

'Hello, you two! Excuse the mess, but it took me a while to find the kit that I needed.'

I stepped in to the room and picked up a magnifying glass that had found its way to the floor. I peered at Elspeth, who grinned at my giant-eye jocularity.

'I didn't know we had all this with us,' I said as I examined sundry items with my glass.

'Well, you know me. "Be prepared" was what that officer of the 18th Hussars told us at that lecture the other year. Never forgotten it.'

'Yes, shame I missed that. From what I heard, he seemed a useful fellow with some sensible ideas. Written books too, I understand?'

'Indeed. I wish a few more young people had access to his ideas,' added Bertie rather ruefully.

'When you two have quite finished with this badinage, can we get on with the task at hand?' asked Elspeth in a very strict tone.

Bertie almost jumped to attention.

'Ah, yes! Quite. Well, unfortunately the impression was not as clear as I first thought...

'Damn!'

I looked aghast at this utterance from a lady.

No... no, it's not that bad, either. I've applied some lemon juice and whatever else Hobbes supplied for the reading of secret messages and just need to warm the paper up a bit. Elspeth, would you pass me that candle, please?'

She handed him the lit candle and Bertie proceeded to wave the envelope over the heat, taking great care not to set light to any of his surroundings. I started to wonder if the great library at Alexandria was destroyed through inappropriate use of lemon juice, but could not follow the train of thought to any plausible conclusion. As a precaution against repetition of that great conflagration, I took hold of the water jug from the nightstand. There was a tangible tension in the air as we all held our breaths. It got too much for me, though, after just twenty seconds.

'Well?' I asked anxiously.

Bertie pinched out the flame and adjusted his curious eyewear. There was a clockwork clicking noise and things ocular telescoped out, giving him an even more alarming appearance.

'Good grief!' he exclaimed.

'What is it, man?' I asked.

Bertie passed me the envelope. Then, realising I would not be able to read it with human eye, quickly took it back and read it out aloud.

'I cannot give you the whole message, but I can tell you its origin was somewhere in England, which makes the actual message even more dangerous. What I can make out is, "Secretary of State says you must allow decent interval and delay fireworks for a fortnight".'

Elspeth looked a little bemused.

'I'm sorry, but what have fireworks got to do with this? We don't celebrate gunpowder, treason and plot over here, you know.'

'Elspeth, I fear that the term "fireworks" is a euphemism for the balloon going up,' I explained. Or at least, I thought I had explained.

'Fireworks? Balloons? Is this some kind of party that we are talking about?' asked Elspeth enthusiastically.

'My dear Elspeth,' said Bertie patiently, 'the message indicates that troops will be moving into the Transvaal. So in answer to your question, yes: it is a type of party. A raiding party.'

Elspeth looked pale. I explained further.

'More disturbingly, that message indicates that Rhodes' expansionism is being supported by Chamberlain himself. Bertie... what have we got ourselves involved with this time?'

Elspeth cleared a space amongst Bertie's paraphernalia, which he hastily tried to rescue and pack away.

'So what do we do now, then?' she asked.

'We don't do anything. Bertie and I will travel to Cape Town where — I believe — Rhodes must have gone, for all his bluster about Kimberly. And you, my dear Elspeth, must remain here.'

'I most certainly will not!'

'Elspeth, Knolly’s right,' said Bertie. 'You must do what you can to protect your regiment. Rhodes and Jameson must suspect nothing — and for you to suddenly up sticks and go with us would send out the wrong signals.'

'What is our quickest route to the Cape?' I asked.

'Train,' Elspeth pouted, with arms folded across her chest.

'Train it is, then! Bertie, get packing! Elspeth, come with me please. We need to visit Monty and decide where to send the rest of the regiment to keep them out of harm's way for the next month or so. I doubt we can keep Stumpy's chaps out of Rhodes' plan, but we must do what we can.'

As we left Bertie muttering to himself, a plan was starting to form. Elspeth was clearly not happy with the lack of control she had over the situation, but I had to keep her focused. She followed me along the corridor, dragging her feet. At the stairs I stopped and took her hands.

'Elspeth, you must ensure you go with Monty, too. I find I care too much for you to leave you in this house awaiting the return of Rhodes and Jameson — for return they surely will, although I suspect it will be the Doctor who leads the mission. Rhodes is too much the clever politician, with many powerful people at his beck and call.'

'I'm not at all happy about this, you know. And I'm still not sure who to trust or who is telling the truth,' she said, sounding rather hurt.

It was time to play the cad. I kissed her fully on the lips. Fortunately, she did not resist and there was no slap to the face. She went limp in my arms and I pulled away and looked at her.

'That's supposed to make it all better then, is it?' she asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

Um... well... I thought...' I blustered.

She grinned and her eyes twinkled.

'You thought it proved how honest and truthful you are,' she chuckled. 'Knolly, you are one of two men to have seen me in my undergarments and I can see now that you are really a man of honour — but was that really your best kiss?'

With that, she grabbed me behind the neck and gave me such a kiss that I lost my footing and we tumbled backwards down the staircase. We stopped suddenly.

'I think I've twisted my ankle!' exclaimed Elspeth. 'No, it is just my shoe coming off.'

The staff had obviously heard the commotion of our dramatic descent and several of them came bustling our way, headed by Mrs Twistleton.

Elspeth and I stood as quickly as we could, dusted ourselves off and adopted an air of nonchalance. Of course, Mrs Twistleton saw right through it; she observed us with a mildly-accusing raised right eyebrow.

'Ah! Mrs Twistelton! There you are! Please get Cook to rustle up some food for two. Mr Knolly and Mr Harrison-Harrison have an urgent journey to undertake. We have to go and find Captain Montague.'

'I've noticed you calling him by his Christian name,' I said. 'Nothing between you, is there?'

'Not at all! It's just that Le Boeuf is such a mouthful. Everyone calls him Monty in any case,' she explained, gently patting my forearm in a reassuring manner.

Mrs T looked from Elspeth to me and back again and, making a disapproving 'tsk-tsk' noise that was loud enough for all to hear, went off in the direction of the kitchen. I took Elspeth's arm and we headed for the barracks.

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