Percy asked, and the lieutenant consulted an addendum to the list.
'Otto von Kleine (Count). Previously commanded the light cruiser
Sturm Vogel.''
'Yes,' said Sir Percy. 'I've heard of him,' and he replaced the counter on the plot, keeping his hand on it. 'A dangerous man to have here, south Of Suez,' and he Pushed the counter up towards the Red Sea and the entrance to the canal, where the tiny red shipping lanes amalgamated or here,' and he pushed it down into a thick artery, towards the Cape of Good Hope, around which were curved the same red threads that joined London to Australia and India. Sir Percy lifted his hand from the black counter and left it sitting menacingly upon the shipping lanes.
'What force have we deployed against him so far?' and in answer the flag-captain picked up a wooden pointer and touched in turn the red counters that were scattered about the Indian Ocean.
'Pegasus and Renounce in the north. Eagle and Plunger sweeping the southern waters, sir.'
'What further force can we spare, Henry?'
'Well, sir, Orion and Bloodhound are at Simonstown,' and 4, he touched the nose of the African continent with the pointer.
'Orion that's Manderson, isn't it?' 'Yes, sir.'
'And who has Bloodhound?'
'Little, sir.'
'Good,' Sir Percy nodded with satisfaction. 'A six-inch cruiser and a destroyer should be able to deal with Bkicher,' and he smiled again. 'Especially with a hellion like Charles Little handling the Bloodhound. I played golf with him last summer he damn nigh drove the sixteenth green at St. Andrews!'
The flag- captain glanced at the Admiral and, on the strength of the destroyer captain's reputation, decided to permit himself an inanity.
'The young ladies of Cape Town will mourn his departure, sir.'
'We must hope that KapitAn zur See Otto von Kleine will mourn his arrival, 'chuckled Sir Percy.
'Daddy likes you very much.'
'Your father is a man of exquisite good taste,' Commander the Honourable Charles Little conceded gallantly, and rolled his head to smile at the young lady who lay beside him on a rug, in the dappled shade beneath the pine trees.
'Can't you ever be serious?'
'Helen, my sweet, at times I can be deadly serious.'
'Oh, You!' and his companion blushed prettily as she remembered certain of Charles's recent actions, which would make her father hastily revise his judgement.
'I value your father's good opinion, but my chief concern is that you endorse it.' The girl sat up slowly and while she stared at him her hands were busy, brushing the pine needles from the glorious tangle of her hair, readjusting the fastenings of her blouse, spreading the skirts of her riding-habit to cover sweet legs clad in dark, tall polished leather boots.
She stared at Charles Little and ached with the strength of her want. It was not a sensual need she felt, but an overpowering obsession to have this man as her very own. To own him in the same way as she already owned diamonds, and furs, and silk, and horses, and peacocks, and other beautiful things.
His body sprawled out on the rug with all the unconscious grace of a reclining leopard. A secret little smile tugged at the corners of his lips and his eyelids drooped to mask the sparkle of his eyes. His recent exertions had dampened the hair that flopped forward onto his forehead.
There was something satanical about him, an air of wickedness, and
Helen decided it was the slant of the eyebrows and the way his ears lay flat against his temples, but were pointed like those of a satyr, yet they were pink and smooth as those of an infant.
'think you have devil's ears, she said, and then she blushed again, and scrambled to her feet avoiding Charles's arm that reached out for her. 'Enough of that!' she giggled and ran to the thoroughbred hunter that was tied near them in the forest. 'Come on, 'she called as she mounted.
Charles stood up lazily and stretched. He tucked the tail of his shirt into his breeches, folded the rug on which they had lain, and went to his own horse.
At the edge of the pine forest, they checked their mounts and sat looking down over the Constantia valley.
'Isn't it beaUtiful? she said.
'It is indeed, 'he agreed.
'I meant the view.'
'And so she did Twice in the six days he had known her, she had led him up this mountain and Subjected him to the temptation. Below them lay six thousand acres of the richest land in all of Africa.
'When my brother Hubert was killed there was no one left to carry it on. just my sister and I and we are only girls. Poor Daddy isn't so well any more he finds it such a strain.' Charles let his eyes move lazily from the great squat buttress of Table Mountain on their left, across the lush basin of vineyards below them, and then on to where the glittering-wedge of False Bay drove into the mountains.
'Doesn't the 'homestead look lovely from here?' Helen drew his attention to the massive Dutch-gabled residence, with its attendant outbuildings grouped in servility behind it.
'I am truly impressed by the magnificence of the stud fee,'
Charles murmured, purposefully slurring the last two words, and the girl glanced at him in surprise, beginning to bridle.
'I beg your pardon?'
'It is truly magnificent scenery,' he amended. Her persistent efforts at ensnaring him were beginning to bore Charles.
He had teased and avoided more artful huntresses.
'Charles,' she whispered. 'How would you like to live here. I
mean, forever?' And Charles was shocked. This little provincial had no understanding whatsoever of the rules governing the game of flirtation.
He was so shocked that he threw back his head and laughed
When Charles laughed it sent shivers of delight through every woman within a hundred yards. It was a merry sound with underlying tones of sensuality. His teeth were very white against the sea-tan of his face, and the muscles of his chest and upper arms tensed into bold relief beneath the silk shirt he wore.
Helen was the only witness of this particular perform and she was helpless as a sparrow in a hurricane.
once, Eagerly she leaned across the space between their horses and touched his arm. 'You would like it, Charles. Wouldn't you? She did not know that Charles Little had a private income of twenty thousand pounds a year, that when his father died he would inherit the title Viscount Sutherton and the estates that went with it.
She did not know that one of those estates would swallow her father's own three times over; nor did she know that Charles had passed by willing young ladies with twice her looks, ten times her fortune, and a hundred times her breeding.
'You would, Charles. I know you would!' So young, so vulnerable,
that he stopped the flippant reply before it reached his lips.
'Helen,' he took her hand. 'I am a sea creature. We move with the wind and the waves,' and he lifted her hand to his lips.
A while she sat, feeling the warm pressure of his lips upon her flesh, and the burn of tears behind her eyes. Then she snatched her hand away, and wheeled her horse. She lifted the leather riding-crop and slashed the glossy black shoulder between her knees. Startled, the stallion jumped forward into a dead run back along the road towards the
Constantia valley.
Charles shook his head and grimaced with regret. He had not meant to hurt her. It had been an escapade, something to fill the waiting days while Bloodhound went through the final stages of her refit. But Charles had learned to harden himself to the ending of his adventures to the tears and tragedy.
'Shame on you, you heartless cad, he said aloud, and touching his mount with his heels ambled in pursuit of the galloping stallion.
He caught up with the stallion in the stable yards. A groom was walking it, and there were darker sweat patches on its coat, and the barrel of its chest still heaved with laboured breathing.
Helen was nowhere in sight, but her father stood at the stable gates, - a big man, with a square-cut black beard picked out with grey.
'Enjoy your ride?'
'Thank you, Mr. Uys.' Charles was noncommittal,
and the older man glanced significantly at the blown stallion before going on.
'There's one of your sailors been waiting for you for an hour.'
'Where is he?' Charles's manner altered abruptly, became instantly businesslike.
'Here, Mr.' From the deep shade of the stable doorway, a young seaman stepped out into the bright sunlight.
'What is it, man?' Impatiently Charles acknowledged his salute.
'Captain Manderson's compliments, sir, and you're to report aboard
HMS. Orion with all possible speed. There's a motor car waiting to take you to the base, sir.'
'An untimely summons, Commander.' Uys gave his 'opinion lounging against the worked
