He faced the music bravely enough, perhaps because of the knowledge that no denial would be believed, perhaps also because all the instincts of his, after all, great nature caused him to come forward to take his share in the disgrace of the whole deplorable affair.
Whether he forgave Doctor Jameson for this act of folly remains a mystery.
Personally I have always held that there must have _un cadavre entre eux_.
No friendship could account for the strange relations which existed between these two men, one of whom had done so much to harm the other.

At first it would have seemed as if an individual of the character of Cecil Rhodes would never have brought himself to forgive his confederate for the clumsiness with which he had handled a matter upon which the reputation of both of them depended, in the present as well as in the future.

But far from abandoning the friend who had brought him into such trouble, he remained on the same terms of intimacy as before, with the difference, perhaps, that he saw even more of him than before the Raid.

It seemed as if he wanted thus to affirm before the whole world his faith in the man through whom his whole political career had been wrecked.
The attitude of Rhodes toward Jameson was commented upon far and wide.

The Dutch party in Cape Town saw in it a mere act of bravado into which they read an acknowledgment that, strong as was the Colossus, he was too weak to tell his accomplices to withdraw from public sight until the ever-increasing difficulties with the Transvaal--which became more and more acute after the Raid--had been settled in some way or other between President Kruger and the British Government.