I must pretend to leave for Durban this
evening, take my luggage down and so on,
but really I shall go to some small hotel in the
town. I can alter my appearance a little—wear
a fair toupee and one of those thick white lace
veils, and I shall have a much better chance of
seeing what he's really at if he thinks I'm
safely out of the way."
Suzanne approved this plan heartily. We
made due and ostentatious preparations,
inquiring once more about the departure of
the train at the office and packing my
luggage.
We dined together in the restaurant.
Colonel Race did not appear, but Sir Eustace
and Pagett were at their table in the window.
Pagett left the table half-way through the
meal, which annoyed me, as I had planned to
say good-bye to him. However, doubtless Sir
Eustace would do as well. I went over to him
when I had finished.
220
"Good-bye, Sir Eustace," I said. "I'm off
to-night to Durban."
Sir Eustace sighed heavily.
"So I heard. You wouldn't like me to come
with you, would you?"
"I should love it."
"Nice girl. Sure you won't change your
mind and come and look for lions in
Rhodesia?"
"Quite sure."
"He must be a very handsome fellow," said
Sir Eustace plaintively. "Some young
whipper-snapper in Durban, I suppose, who
puts my mature charms completely in the
shade. By the way, Pagett's going down in
the car in a minute or two. He could take you
to the station."
"Oh, no, thank you," I said hastily. "Mrs.
Blair and I have got our own taxi ordered."
To go down with Guy Pagett was the last
thing I wanted! Sir Eustace looked at me
attentively.
"I don't believe you like Pagett. I don't
blame you. Of all the officious, interfering
asses—going about with the air of a martyr,
and doing everything he can to annoy and
upset me!"
221
"What has he done now?" I inquired with
some curiosity.
"He's got hold of a secretary for me. You
never saw such a woman! Forty, if she's a
day, wears pince-nez and sensible boots and
an air of brisk efficiency that will be the death
of me. A regular slab-faced woman."
"Won't she hold your hand?"
"I devoutly hope not!" exclaimed Sir
Eustace. "That would be the last straw. Well,
good-bye, liquid eyes. If I shoot a lion I shan't
give you the skin—after the base way you've
deserted me."
He squeezed my hand warmly and we
parted. Suzanne was waiting for me in the
hall. She was to come down to see me off.
"Let's start at once," I said hastily, and
motioned to the man to get a taxi.
Then a voice behind me made a start:
"Excuse me. Miss Beddingfield, but I'm
just going down in a car. I can drop you and
Mrs. Blair at the station."
"Oh, thank you," I said hastily. "But
there's no need to trouble you. I——"
"No trouble at all, I assure you. Put the
luggage in, porter."
I was helpless. I might have protested
222
further, but a slight warning nudge from
Suzanne urged me to be on my guard.
"Thank you, Mr. Pagett," I said coldly.
We all got into the car. As we raced down
the road into the town, I racked my brains for
something to say. In the end Pagett himself
broke the silence.
"I have secured a very capable secretary for
Sir Eustace," he observed. "Miss Pettigrew."
"He wasn't exactly raving about her just
now," I remarked.
Pagett looked at me coldly.
"She is a proficient shorthand-typist," he
said repressively.
We pulled up in front of the station. Here
surely he would leave us. I turned with
outstretched hand—but no.
"I'll come and see you off. It's just eight
o'clock, your train goes in a quarter of an
hour."
He gave efficient directions to porters. I
stood helpless, not daring to look at Suzanne.
The man suspected. He was determined to
make sure that I did go by the train. And
what could I do? Nothing. I saw myself, in a
quarter of an hour's time, steaming out of the
station with Pagett planted on the platform
waving me adieu. He had turned the tables on
223
me adroitly. His manner towards me had
changed, moreover. It was full of an uneasy
geniality which sat ill upon him, and which
nauseated me. The man was an oily
hypocrite. First he tried to murder me, and
now he paid me compliments! Did he
imagine for one minute that I hadn't
recognized him that night on the boat? No, it
was a pose, a pose which he forced me to
acquiesce in, his tongue in his cheek all the
while.
Helpless as a sheep, I moved along under
his expert directions. My luggage was piled
in my sleeping compartment—I had a twoberth
one to myself. It was twelve minutes
past eight. In three minutes the train would
start.
But Pagett had reckoned without Suzanne.
"It will be a terribly hot journey, Anne,"
she said suddenly. "Especially going through
the Karoo to-morrow. You've got some eaude-Cologne
or lavender water with you,
haven't you?"
My cue was plain.
"Oh, dear," I cried. "I left my eau-deCologne
on the dressing-table at the hotel."
Suzanne's habit of command served her
well. She turned imperiously to Pagett.
224
"Mr. Pagett. Quick. You've just time.
There's a chemist almost opposite the station.
Anne must have some eau-de-Cologne."
He hesitated, but Suzanne's imperative
manner was too much for him. She is a born
autocrat. He went. Suzanne followed him
with her eyes till he disappeared.
"Quick, Anne, get out the other side--in
case he hasn't really gone but is watching us
from the end of the platform. Never mind
your luggage. You can telegraph about that
to-morrow. Oh, if only the train starts on
time!"
I opened the gate on the opposite side to the
platform and climbed down. Nobody was
observing me. I could just see Suzanne
standing where I had left her, looking up at
the train and apparently chatting to me at the
window. A whistle blew, the train began to
draw out. Then I heard feet racing furiously
up the platform. I withdrew to the shadow of
a friendly bookstall and watched.
Suzanne turned from waving her
handkerchief to the retreating train.
"Too late, Mr. Pagett," she said cheerfully.
"She's gone. Is that the eau-deCologne
?
What a pity we didn't think of it
sooner!"
225
They passed not far from me on their way
out of the station. Guy Pagett was extremely
hot. He had evidently run all the way to the
chemist and back.
"Shall I get you a taxi, Mrs. Blair?"
Suzanne did not fail in her role.
"Yes, please. Can't I give you a lift back?
Have you much to do for Sir Eustace? Dear
me, I wish Anne Beddingfield was coming
with us to-morrow. I don't like the idea of a
young girl like that travelling off to Durban
all by herself. But she was set upon it. Some
little attraction there, I fancy——"
They passed out of earshot. Clever
Suzanne. She had saved me.
I allowed a minute or two to elapse and
then I too made my way out of the station,
almost colliding as I did so with a man—an
unpleasant-looking man with a nose
disproportionately big for his face.
226
21
I HAD no further difficulty in carrying out
my plans. I found a small hotel in a back
street, got a room there, paid a deposit as I
had no luggage with me, and went placidly to
bed.
On the following morning I was up early
and went out into the town to purchase a
modest wardrobe. My idea was to do nothing
until after the departure of the eleven o'clock
train to Rhodesia with most of the party on
board. Pagett was not likely to indulge in any
nefarious activities until he had got rid of
them. Accordingly I took a train out of the
town and proceeded to enjoy a country walk.
It was comparatively cool, and I was glad to
stretch my legs after the long voyage and my
close confinement at Muizenberg.
A lot hinges on small things. My shoelace
came untied, and I stopped to do it up. The
road had just turned a corner, and as I was
bending over the offending shoe a man came
nght round and almost walked into me. He lifted his hat, murmuring an apology, and
227
went on. It struck me at the time that his face
was vaguely familiar, but at the moment I
thought no more of it. I looked at my wristwatch.
The time was getting on. I turned my
feet in the direction of Cape Town.
There was a tram on the point of going and
I had to run for it. I heard other footsteps
running behind me. I swung myself on and so
did the other runner. I recognized him at
once. It was the man who had passed me on
the road when my shoe came untied, and in a
flash I knew why his face was familiar. It was
the small man with the big nose whom I had
run into on leaving the station the night
before.
The coincidence was rather startling.
Could it be possible that the man was
deliberately following me? I resolved to test
that as promptly as possible. I rang the bell
and got off at the next stop. The man did not
get off. I withdrew into the shadow of a shop
doorway and watched. He alighted at the next
stop and walked back in my direction.
The case was clear enough. I was being
followed. I had crowed too soon. My victory
over Guy Pagett took on another aspect. I
hailed the next tram and, as I expected, my
228
shadower also got on. I gave myself up to
some very serious thinking.
It was perfectly apparent that I had
stumbled on a bigger thing than I knew. The
murder in the house at Marlow was not an
isolated incident committed by a solitary
individual. I was up against a gang, and
thanks to Colonel Race's revelations to
Suzanne, and what I had overheard at the
house at Muizenberg, I was beginning to
understand some of its manifold activities.
Systematized crime, organized by the man
known to his followers as the "Colonel"! I
remembered some of the talk I had heard on
board ship, of the strike on the Rand and the
causes underlying it—and the belief that some
secret organization was at work fomenting the
agitation. That was the "Colonel's" work, his
emissaries were acting according to plan. He
took no part in these things himself, I had
always heard, as he limited himself to
directing and organizing. The brainwork—not
the dangerous labour—for him.
But still it well might be that he himself was
on the spot, directing affairs from an
apparently impeccable position.
That, then, was the meaning of Colonel
Race's presence on the Kilmorden Castle. He
229
was out after the arch-criminal. Everything
filled in with that assumption. He was someone
high up in the Secret Service whose
business it was to lay the "Colonel" by the
heels.
I nodded to myself--things were becoming
very clear to me. What of my part in the
affair? Where did I come in? Was it only
diamonds they were after? I shook my head.
Great as the value of the diamonds might be, they hardly accounted for the desperate
attempts which had been made to get me out
of the way. No, I stood for more than that. In
some way, unknown to myself, I was a
menace, a danger! Some knowledge that I
had, or that they thought I had, made them
anxious to remove me at all costs--and that
knowledge was bound up somehow with the
diamonds. There was one person, I felt sure,
who could enlighten me--if he would! "The
Man in the Brown Suits'--Harry Rayburn.
He knew the other half of the story. But he
had vanished into the darkness, he was a
hunted creature flying from pursuit. In all
probability he and I would never meet
again. . . .
I brought myself back with a jerk to the
actualities of the moment. It was no good
230
thinking sentimentally of Harry Rayburn. He
had displayed the greatest antipathy to me
from the first. Or, at least—— There I was
again—dreaming! The real problem was what
to do—now
I, priding myself upon my role of watcher,
had become the watched. And I was afraid!
For the first time, I began to lose my nerve. I
was a little bit of grit that was impeding the
smooth working of the great machine—and I
fancied that the machine would have a short
way with little bits of grit. Once Harry
Rayburn had saved me, once I had saved myself—but
I felt suddenly that the odds were
heavily against me. My enemies were all
around me in every direction, and they were
closing in. If I continued to play a lone hand I
was doomed.
I rallied myself with an effort. After all,
what could they do? I was in a civilized
city—with policemen every few yards. I
would be wary in future. They should not
trap me again as they had done in
Muizenberg.
As I reached this point in my meditations,
the tram arrived at Adderley Street. I got out.
Undecided what to do, I walked slowly up
the left-hand side of the street. I did not
231
trouble to look if my watcher was behind me.
I knew he was. I walked into Cartwright's
and ordered two coffee ice-cream sodas—to
steady my nerves. A man, I suppose, would
have had a stiff peg; but girls derive a lot of
comfort from ice-cream sodas. I applied
myself to the end of the straw with gusto.
The cool liquid went trickling down my
throat in the most agreeable manner. I
pushed the first glass aside empty.
I was sitting on one of the little high stools
in front of the counter. Out of the tail of my
eye, I saw my tracker come in and sit down
unostentatiously at a little table near the door.
I finished the second coffee soda and
demanded a maple one. I can drink
practically an unlimited amount of ice-cream
sodas.
Suddenly the man by the door got up and
went out. This surprised me. If he was going
to wait outside, why not wait outside from
the beginning? I slipped down from my stool
and went cautiously to the door. I drew back
quickly into the shadow. The man was
talking to Guy Pagett.
If I had ever had any doubts, that would
have settled it. Pagett had his watch out and
was looking at it. They exchanged a few brief
232
words, and then the secretary swung on down
the street towards the station. Evidently he
had given his orders. But what were they?
Suddenly my heart leapt into my mouth.
The man who had followed me crossed to the
middle of the road and spoke to a policeman.
He spoke at some length, gesticulating
towards Cartwrighfs and evidently explaining
something. I saw the plan at once.
I was to be arrested on some charge or
other--pocket-picking, perhaps. It would be
easy enough for the gang to put through a
simple little matter like that. Of what good to
protest my innocence? They would have seen
to every detail. Long ago they had brought a
charge of robbing De Beers against Harry
Rayburn, and he had not been able to
disprove it, though I had little doubt but that
he had been absolutely blameless. What
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