Then it was as if a blaze of pain blotted out the words of the letter for a moment. She saw and recognised many things in that sacrifice of Bute Churton’s name. Di ... and Ally! The horrible vulgarity of it, the degradation of even her slight friendship with the woman, made her revolt. She could have forgiven it better had he done such a thing with half a world between them, even though his partner in guilt had professed to like her; but in the narrow confines of Port Victoria it seemed abominable. Her last ideal was torn from her, and the worst of it was that in the light of Ally’s backsliding she saw what her own had nearly been. In her thoughts, her desires, perhaps, she had been worse, since his passions, like his whole nature, were slighter than her own. She rose to her feet in that intolerable revelation, the letter crushed in her hand ... and for the first time she saw, consciously, the native runner who had brought it.
He had been waiting with hideous eagerness to catch her attention. The minute he saw that she was looking at him with expectation he babbled with speech, his head nodding vaguely towards the way he had come, childish eagerness and horrid enjoyment in his face.
“I heap big trouble to come through, Missus. The land is up—they dance the Cannab dance in Po’ Victoria.”
She caught her breath, and her wide blazing eyes held his like a snake’s.
“What is that you say? Tell me more. What has happened?”
“You hear nothing hyar? No—the ra not reach you. The Panjaka-Baas——”
“Mr. Gregory—the Administrator—yes?” She knew that queer native jumble of a title for him, for panjaka means king or head lord, and the South African baas or master had drifted into Key Island with the white man’s authority.
“First he burn the Cannab—but the Chiney man he keep back some. Then the Panjaka-Baas he guess there is some still, for the nigger still get drunk.” He rubbed his hands and grinned as if in delighted reminiscence. “They make a raid at Sand Bay and find the Cannab cane—lots an’ lots hidden there! And then the land is up and they dance!”
Leoline, without turning her eyes away, as though afraid he might escape if she did, called, “Mrs. Gilderoy!” Her friend answered her from the house, and a minute later came out on to the stoep, with a sharp glance of surprise at the runner.
“He brought me a letter,” Mrs. Lewin explained briefly. “He comes from Port Victoria. Tell this lady what you have told me!” she commanded.