"There are no flowers in the world like those from Table Mountain," he said.
"That old bleak beast?" She gazed in astonishment at the grey mass still hovering above and about them. "She looks as though nothing would grow on her gaunt sides except sharp flints."
Bellew laughed.
"Those gaunt sides are covered with beauty, and hundreds of people make their living from them."
"Africa is wonderful," sighed April, and suddenly the weight of her burden returned.
"Africa's all right, if it weren't for the people in it," he retorted moodily.
The hotel proved to be a picturesque building perched on rising ground above lovely gardens. Some of its countless windows looked over the town to the sea; but most of them seemed to be peered into by the relentless granite eyes of the mountain. April's first act was to draw the blinds of her room.
"That mountain will sit upon my heart and crush me into my grave if I stay here long," she thought, and felt despairing. Bellew had engaged rooms for her, boldly inscribing the name of "Lady Diana Vernilands" in the big ledger, while she stood by, acquiescing in, if not contributing to the lie. Afterwards he went away to superintend the unloading of his luggage. It appeared that his three immense trunks contained much valuable glass and china for the Governor's wife, and he was taking no risks concerning their safety.
Although making only a short stay, and in spite of the glum looks of the porters, he had everything carried carefully up to his room on the fourth floor. Glum looks were wasted on the bland Bellew, who lived by the motto "Je m'en fiche de tout le monde," and who on his own confession would have liked Africa to himself.
No word concerning the tragedy had yet passed between him and April, but she knew that something was impending, and that she would probably do as he told her, for he seemed in the strange circumstances to occupy the position of sole executor to Diana's will. On going down to lunch she found that he had engaged a small table for them both, but was not there himself. What pleased her less was that as regards company she might just as well have been back on board the Clarendon Castle. Almost every one of her fellow-passengers was scattered around the multiplicity of small tables. It would seem as if the "Mount Nelson" was the only hotel in the town, although she remembered quite a number of others in the Directory. Even Vereker Sarle was there. Far down the long room she saw him sitting with two other men: one of them, Dick Nichols, looking very much at home; the other a distinguished, saturnine man with an English air to him, in spite of being burnt as black as the ace of spades. She was aware that Sarle saw her, and had a trembling fear that he might join her. It was almost a relief when Bellew came in towards the end of the meal, for she knew he would prove an effective barrier. He looked hot and weary, and explained that he had been obliged to go back down town to attend to some business.