Lawless suddenly smiled.
“And you judge a man as you find him,” he said, “without looking beneath the surface? You countenance him, even to introducing him to your friends... quam diu se bene gesserit.”
“What more is necessary?” inquired the schoolmaster promptly.
“True!” acquiesced Lawless. “If a man have seven devils what need their possession matter to anyone save himself so long as he keep them out of sight?”
On the second day after his arrival the letter of instructions reached him. It bore the Wellington postmark. Tottie was gradually working her way down the line. It was a scrawling, lengthy epistle, containing many interlineations and corrections and succinct marginal notes. Lawless carried it to the garden, and sat on a bench under a huge eucalyptus tree while he deciphered the contents. Properly adjusted, and omitting the evil spelling, it read:
Dear old Grit,—I know you’ll be chafing horribly at the delay; but there have been difficulties, and it was no use ringing up the curtain on this act before we had got things thoroughly in order, and every man knowing the part he has to play. Poor old Karl is under the delusion he is to play hero to my heroine. I have him properly in tow. He tumbled to his part beautifully at our first accidental encounter. He pursued, and I eluded. I got him as far as Ceres Road in this manner. Then one evening in the dusk I met and had a talk with him... Such a talk! ... He kissed me... He kept on kissing me—keep your hair on. Grit. I told him I was afraid of you,—that I’d bolted from you, and were scared to death you’d find me out. I said you were mad to get me back, but I wasn’t taking any. He offered to take me under his protection. I declined, but with less firmness than virtue should have displayed. He fancied I only needed pressing. I told him my idea was to get back to Cape Town and take the first boat up the coast, only I was scared of happening across you. And then he said some fine brave manly things that made one feel your life wasn’t worth an hour’s purchase. Bombastic fool! Always crowing and flapping his wings when he gets among the hens...
I let him talk. The next day I left Ceres Road and came on here. Of course he turned up almost immediately. We met again in the dusk and had another talk. Karl’s a hot one... The difficulty I have to keep him at arm’s length! ... I gave in to his pleading after a decent show of reluctance... He fancies I was only holding out for personal gain. We are going to a little place across the river about ten miles from Kraaifontein. It’s known as Jager’s Rest. By the time you get this we shall be on our road thither in a Cape cart. I’ve arranged with the nigger what route he drives, so if you follow my instructions all will be well; if you fail me now, devil knows what will happen.
I enclose a map I’ve drawn of the route. Just half-way between here and Kraaifontein—see my mark on the map—you’ll take your stand, and wait for us to pass somewhere about noon. There’s cover there, and one can play highwayman without risk. If I can get hold of Karl’s revolver I’ll spoil it for him, if I can’t I’ll hamper him in more feminine mode. In any case, I am not afraid you won’t be equal to him. If you murder him, I’ll stop and help you bury him. Tottie.
Lawless folded the letter, and carefully examined the map. Then he folded that also, put both in his pocket, and went in to breakfast. The schoolmaster, who had all but finished his meal, looked up to nod.