'Good-bye, Sir Eustace,' I said. 'I'm off tonight 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!'
'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 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 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 –1 had a two-berth 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 tomorrow. You've got some eau-de-cologne or lavender water with you, haven't you?'
My cue was plain.
'Oh, dear,' I cried. 'I left my eau-de-cologne on the dressing-table at the hotel-Suzanne's habit of command served her well. She turned imperiously to Pagett.
'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 tomorrow. 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-de-cologne? What a pity we didn't think of it sooner!'
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 tomorrow. 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.
Chapter 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 right round and almost walked into me. He lifted his hat, murmuring an apology, and 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
