“Grit isn’t the man to shoot another with his hands tied, and unarmed,” he said. “He wouldn’t even lash him so, although I wanted him to. I’ve got a blunter sense of honour, I suppose; but I don’t believe in being generous to swine like Karl Van Bleit.”
“No,” the Colonel agreed.
He smoked for a few moments in silence. Then he put the end of the cigar down in the ashtray, and flung back the bedclothes.
“You say you’ve breakfasted! It must have been a fairly early meal. You’d better stay and breakfast with me. When do you suppose Lawless will be coming down?”
“To-night, I expect. He didn’t say. But there’s nothing to keep him there. I shall meet the train anyway.”
“I’d like to see him.” The Colonel frowned thoughtfully. “Pity!” he said. “I’m dining out to-night—at the Smythes’. If it had been any other house I would have sent an excuse. But, owing to the trial, things have been a bit strained. To-night will be the first time I have been to the house since that affair... I can’t very well get out of it.”
“Leave early, sir,” Hayhurst suggested, “and come round to his hotel.”
“And suppose he shouldn’t arrive?”
“Oh! he’ll arrive right enough... If he doesn’t, I’ll manage to let you know.”
There was no happier man in Cape Town that day than Colonel Grey when he went into the city and cabled Home to the person it most concerned the news of success. It had taken months to accomplish at a terrific cost, but the matter was ended, and the incriminating letters were beyond reach for any purpose evil or the reverse.