allow of that note being written.'
We sat silent for a moment, then Harry went on slowly:
'You say that Mrs. Blair was asleep when you left the hotel and that you heard Sir Eustace dictating to Miss Pettigrew? Where was Colonel Race?'
'I could not find him anywhere.'
'Had he any reason to believe that — you and I might be friendly with each other?'
'He might have had,' I answered thoughtfully, remembering our conversation on the way back from Matoppos. 'He's a very powerful personality,' I continued, 'but not at all my idea of the 'Colonel.' And, anyway, such an idea would be absurd. He's in the Secret Service.'
'How do we know that he is? It's the easiest thing in the world to throw out a hint of that kind. No one contradicts it, and the rumour spreads until everyone believes it as gospel truth. It provides an excuse for all sorts of doubtful doings. Anne, do you like Race?'
'I do — and I don't. He repels me and at the same time fascinates me; but I know one thing, I'm always a little afraid of him.'
'He was in South Africa , you know, at the time of the Kimberley robbery,' said Harry slowly.
'But it was he who told Suzanne all about the 'Colonel' and how he had been in Paris trying to get on his track.'
'Camouflage — of a particularly clever kind.'
'But where does Pagett come in? Is he in Race's pay?'
'Perhaps,' said Harry slowly, 'he doesn't come in at all.'
'What?'
'Think back, Anne. Did you ever hear Pagett's own account of that night on the Kilmorden?'
'Yes — through Sir Eustace.'
I repeated it. Harry listened closely.
'He saw a man coming from the direction of Sir Eustace's cabin and followed him up on deck. Is that what he says? Now, who had the cabin opposite to Sir Eustace? Colonel Race. Supposing Colonel Race crept up on deck, and, foiled in his attack on you, fled round the deck and met Pagett just coming through the saloon door. He knocks him down and springs inside, closing the door. We dash round and find Pagett lying there. How's that?'
'You forget that he declares positively it was you who knocked him down.'
'Well, suppose that just as he regains consciousness he sees me disappearing in the distance? Wouldn't he take it for granted that I was his assailant? Especially as he thought all along it was I he was following?'
'It's possible, yes,' I said slowly. 'But it alters all our ideas. And there are other things.'
'Most of them are open to explanation. The man who followed you in Cape Town spoke to Pagett, and Pagett looked at his watch. The man might have merely asked him the time.'
'It was just a coincidence, you mean?'
'Not exactly. There's a method in all this, connecting Pagett with the affair. Why was the Mill House chosen for the murder? Was it because Pagett had been in Kimberley when the diamonds were stolen? Would he have been made the scapegoat if I had not appeared so providentially upon the scene?'
'Then you think he may be entirely innocent?'
'It looks like it, but, if so, we've got to find out what he was doing in Marlow. If he's got a reasonable explanation of that, we're on the right track.'
He got up.
'It's past midnight. Turn in, Anne, and get some sleep. Just before dawn I'll take you over in the boat. You must catch the train at Livingstone. I've got a friend there who will keep you hidden away until the train starts. You go to Bulawayo and catch the Beira train there. I can find out from my friend in Livingstone what's going on at the hotel and where your friends are now.'
' Beira ,' I said meditatively.
'Yes, Anne, it's Beira for you. This is man's work. Leave it to me.'
We had had a momentary respite from emotion whilst we talked the situation out, but it was on us again now. We did not even look at each other.
'Very well,' I said, and passed into the hut.
I lay down on the skin-covered couch, but I didn't sleep, and outside I could hear Harry Rayburn pacing up and down, up and down through the long dark hours. At last he called me:
'Come, Anne, it's time to go.'
I got up and came out obediently. It was still quite dark, but I knew that dawn was not far off.
'We'll take the canoe, not the motorboat –' Harry began, when suddenly he stopped dead and held up his hand.
'Hush! What's that?'
I listened, but could hear nothing. His ears were sharper than mine, however, the ears of a man who has lived long in the wilderness. Presently I heard it too — the faint splash of paddles in the water coming from the direction of the right bank of the river and rapidly approaching our little landing-stage.
We strained our eyes in the darkness, and could make out a dark blur on the surface of the water. It was a boat. Then there was a momentary spurt of flame. Someone had struck a match. By its light I recognized one figure, the red-bearded Dutchman of the villa at Muizenberg. The others were natives.
'Quick — back to the hut.'
Harry swept me back with him. He took down a couple of rifles and a revolver from the wall.
'Can you load a rifle?'
'I never have. Show me how.'
I grasped his instructions well enough. We closed the door and Harry stood by the window which overlooked the landing-stage. The boat was just about to run alongside it.
'Who's that?' called out Harry, in a ringing voice.
Any doubt we might have had as to our visitors' intentions was swiftly resolved. A hail of bullets splattered round us. Fortunately neither of us was hit. Harry raised the rifle. It spat murderously, and again and again. I heard two groans and a splash.
'That's given 'em something to think about,' he muttered grimly, as he reached for the second rifle. 'Stand well back, Anne, for God's sake. And load quickly.'
More bullets. One just grazed Harry's cheek. His answering fire was more deadly than theirs. I had the rifle reloaded when he turned for it. He caught me close with his left arm and kissed me once savagely before he turned to the window again. Suddenly he uttered a shout.
'They're going — had enough of it. They're a good mark out there on the water, and they can't see how many of us there are. They're routed for the moment — but they'll come back. We'll have to get ready for them.' He flung down the rifle and turned to me.
'Anne! You beauty! You wonder! You little queen! As brave as a lion. Black-haired witch!'
He caught me in his arms. He kissed my hair, my eyes, my mouth.
'And now to business,' he said, suddenly releasing me. 'Get out those tins of paraffin.'
I did as I was told. He was busy inside the hut. Presently I saw him on the roof of the hut, crawling along with something in his arms. He rejoined me in a minute or two.
'Go down to the boat. We'll have to carry it across the island to the other side.'
He picked up the paraffin as I disappeared.
'They're coming back,' I called softly. I had seen the blur moving out from the opposite shore.
He ran down to me.
'Just in time. Why — where the hell's the boat?'
Both had been cut adrift. Harry whistled softly.
'We're in a tight place, honey. Mind?'
'Not with you.'
'Ah, but dying together's not much fun. We'll do better than that. See –they've got two boat-loads this time. Going to land at two different points. Now for my little scenic effect.'
Almost as he spoke a long flame shot up from the hut Its light illuminated two crouching figures huddled together on the roof.
