They did not do so, however. After about an hour, I crept down the stairs, but the Kafir by the door was awake and humming softly to himself. I was anxious to get out of the house, but I did not quite see how to manage it.
In the end I was forced to retreat to the attic again. The Kafir was clearly on guard for the night. I remained there patiently all through the sounds of early morning preparation. The men breakfasted in the hall, I could hear their voices distinctly floating up the stairs. I was getting thoroughly unnerved. How on earth was I to get out of the house?
I counselled myself to be patient. A rash move might spoil everything. After breakfast came the sounds of Chichester departing. To my intense relief, the Dutchman accompanied him.
I waited breathlessly. Breakfast was being cleared away, the work of the house was being done. At last, the various activities seemed to die down. I slipped out from my lair once more. Very carefully I crept down the stairs. The hall was empty. Like a flash I was across it, had unlatched the door, and was outside in the sunshine. I ran down the drive like one possessed.
Once outside, I resumed a normal walk. People stared at me curiously, and I do not wonder. My face and clothes must have been covered in dust from rolling about in the attic. At last I came to a garage. I went in.
“I have met with an accident,” I explained. “I want a car to take me to Cape Town at once. I must catch the boat to Durban.”
I had not long to wait. Ten minutes later I was speeding along in the direction of Cape Town. I must know if Chichester was on the boat. Whether to sail on her myself or not, I could not determine, but in the end I decided to do so. Chichester would not know that I had seen him in the villa at Muizenberg. He would doubtless lay further traps for me, but I was forewarned. And he was the man I was after, the man who was seeking the diamonds on behalf of the mysterious “Colonel.”
Alas, for my plans! As I arrived at the docks, the Kilmorden Castle was steaming out to sea. And I had no means of knowing whether Chichester had sailed on her or not!
XX
I drove to the hotel. There was no one in the lounge that I knew. I ran upstairs and tapped on Suzanne’s door. Her voice bade me “come in.” When she saw who it was she literally fell on my neck.
“Anne, dear, where have you been? I’ve been worried to death about you. What have you been doing?”
“Having adventures,” I replied. “Episode III of The Perils of Pamela.”
I told her the whole story. She gave vent to a deep sigh when I finished.
“Why do these things always happen to you?” she demanded plaintively. “Why does no one gag me and bind me hand and foot?”
“You wouldn’t like it if they did,” I assured her. “To tell you the truth, I’m not nearly so keen on having adventures myself as I was. A little of that sort of thing goes a long way.”
Suzanne seemed unconvinced. An hour or two of gagging and binding would have changed her views quickly enough. Suzanne likes thrills, but she hates being uncomfortable.
“And what are we all doing now?” she asked.
“I don’t quite know,” I said thoughtfully. “You still go to Rhodesia, of course, to keep an eye on Pagett—”
“And you?”
That was just my difficulty. Had Chichester gone on the Kilmorden, or had he not? Did he mean to carry out his original plan of going to Durban? The hour of his leaving Muizenberg seemed to point to an affirmative answer to both questions. In that case, I might go to Durban by train. I fancied that I should get there before the boat. On the other hand, if the news of my escape were wired to Chichester, and also the information that I had left Cape Town for Durban, nothing was simpler for him than to leave the boat at either Port Elizabeth or East London and so give me the slip completely.
It was rather a knotty problem.
“We’ll inquire about trains to Durban anyway,” I said.
“And it’s not too late for morning tea,” said Suzanne. “We’ll have it in the lounge.”
The Durban train left at 8:15 that evening, so they told me at the office. For the moment I postponed decision and joined Suzanne for somewhat belated “eleven o’clock tea.”
“Do you feel that you would really recognize Chichester again—in any other disguise, I mean?” asked Suzanne.
I shook my head ruefully.
“I certainly didn’t recognize him as the stewardess, and never should have but for your drawing.”
“The man’s a professional actor, I’m sure of it,” said Suzanne thoughtfully. “His makeup is perfectly marvellous. He might come off the boat as a navvy or something, and you’d never spot him.”
“You’re very cheering,” I said.
At that minute, Colonel Race stepped in through the window and came and joined us.
“What is Sir Eustace doing?” asked Suzanne. “I haven’t seen him about today.”
Rather an odd expression passed over the colonel’s face.
“He’s got a little trouble of his own to attend to which is keeping him busy.”
“Tell us about it.”
“I mustn’t tell tales out of school.”
“Tell us something—even if you have to invent it for our special benefit.”
“Well, what would you say to the famous ‘man in the brown suit’ having made the voyage with us?”
“What?”
I
