Luttrell nodded.
"Mrs. Croyle?"
"Yes."
"She was well?"
"In health, yes!"
"I am very glad." Unexpectedly some feeling of relief had made itself audible in Luttrell's voice. "It would have troubled me if you had brought me any other news of her. Yes, that would have troubled me very much. I should not have been able to forget it," he said slowly.
"But she is unhappy."
Luttrell walked on in silence. His forehead contracted, a look of trouble came into his face. Yet he had an eye all the while for the movements of the animals in the zareba. At last he halted, struck out at the ostrich with his stick, and turned to Hillyard with a gesture of helplessness.
"But what can one do—except the single thing one can't do?"
"She gave me a message, if I should chance to meet you," answered Hillyard.