108 A GARDEN DIARY 
FEBRUARY 13, 1900 
ie what lies beyond the next few weeks could 
be suddenly laid open to us, what should 
we see? It is, I am aware, rank cowardice 
upon my part, but if by merely ruffling over the 
blank pages of this diary which I hold in my 
hand I could in an instant find out, I know that 
I should refuse to do so, The same feeling has 
beset me before now, but hitherto always with 
regard to personal matters; never, so far as I 
can remember, with regard to public ones. Three 
weeks! It is not a very long time. Only a 
few more crocuses and scillas will be out in our 
little Dutch garden; only a few more oaks and 
chestnuts cut in the copse, yet within that time 
the fate of Ladysmith must be decided. Should 
help fail to reach it—and it may well prove im- 
possible—what shall we see? what will the 
world see? what will our various enemies see? 
Only two alternatives appear to be open: an 
unbelievable surrender, and an only too easily 
believable slaughter. That last of course is the 
