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. Instead of this Rhodes seemed
to take a particular pleasure in parading the trust he declared he had in
Doctor Jameson, and to consult him publicly upon almost all the political
questions which were submitted to him for consideration. This did not mean
that he followed the advice which he received, because, so far as I was
able to observe, this was seldom the case.

To add to the contrariness of the situation, Rhodes always seemed more
glad than anything else if he heard someone make an ill-natured remark