"A moment since," he said, and his voice trembled with an emotion he could not altogether subdue, "it seemed to me that nothing mattered outside that," and he pointed to the ashes in the grate. "Now I'm back in the world again, and I want to know how you came to have them in your possession."

"It's a fairly long story," Hayhurst said. "It's taken weeks to bring to a successful issue."

The Colonel shook his head.

"Don't you get into the habit of drinking before breakfast, my boy," he said.

Tom Hayhurst laughed. His eye had certainly travelled towards a syphon and bottle of whisky that stood on the washstand.

"You don't know what I've been through," he said. "Besides, I have breakfasted. And I've been strict teetotal practically ever since I've been working with Lawless. It was a condition he made in taking me on."

The Colonel went to the washstand to cleanse his hands.

"Pity to break it," he said. "But help yourself, if you've a mind to."

When he had washed he got back into bed, and Hayhurst sat on a chair facing him, with a gla.s.s of whisky in his hand.

"We'll have to go back to the beginning," he said, "if you want to follow the yarn--that is, to the time when Lawless left Cape Town before poor Simmonds' murder. You may remember he left Cape Town with a companion."

"I do," Colonel Grey answered drily. "I have reason to remember."

"So have I," Hayhurst rejoined.

"Indeed!"

"You see, I was with him," he explained, taking pleasure in the Colonel's open amazement. "We were in Stellenbosch together."

"You!--With that she--"

"Devil," prompted the young man cheerfully. "Yes! She wasn't half a bad sort either. You mustn't call her names. I've a sneaking affection for her."

"I can imagine you would have."

The Colonel snipped a fresh cigar, and lighted it, and lay with his hands clasped behind his head eyeing the youngster curiously as, in obedience to a nod, he helped himself from the box of cigars that stood on the table beside the bed.

"I suppose you wouldn't believe me," he hazarded, "if I were to tell you that that was the most platonic friendship Grit Lawless ever indulged in?"

"I should say that your ideas and mine of platonism were widely different," was the response.

Hayhurst laughed.

"Did you ever see the lady at close quarters?" he asked.

"No... And have no wish to."

"I fancy you are labouring under a mistake... You are looking at her now."

He stroked his clean-shaven lip to hide his amus.e.m.e.nt, and his blue eyes smiled at the Colonel, who, in incredulous amazement, stared back at him from the pillow.

"I never reckoned myself an effeminate-looking fellow," he said; "but I'm a tremendous success in petticoats--though it took a thundering lot of paint, no matter how carefully I shaved."

"You lying young devil!" the Colonel e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "I don't believe a word of it."

"Van Bleit wouldn't either," Hayhurst answered, calmly sipping his whisky, "if I hadn't changed my s.e.x in front of him. I left him my hair as a keepsake... His friendship wasn't as platonic as old Grit's."

The Colonel half sat up as a light broke in on him.

"And that," he exclaimed with conviction, "is how you got hold of the letters?"

"No." Tom Hayhurst leant forward with his hand on the counterpane, his boyish face flushed and eager. "All the credit for getting hold of the letters belongs to Lawless," he said. "I was merely the decoy for leading Van Bleit into his hands. He managed the rest. He's fine, Grit Lawless--a man... a white man. My conscience! you ought to have been with us yesterday and seen him handle Van Bleit."

He furnished a description of the scene on the veld, and the Colonel listened in silence, save for an occasional appreciative grunt.

"And I left him," the boy finished admiringly, "guarding the beast. He might have put a bullet into him and saved himself the trouble; instead of which I expect he has been sitting by him all night. I tell you, when Grit undertakes a thing he doesn't half do it."

Colonel Grey looked thoughtfully at the speaker. He was remembering how at their last meeting Lawless had said to him, with reference to Van Bleit, that he was keener on killing the man than anything else.

"I wouldn't be too sure," he said, "that he didn't put his bullet into him after you were gone."

But Tom Hayhurst had no doubts on that head.

"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.

Because his conscience accused him of having misjudged the man, quite as much as in recognition of his valuable services, he determined to use his influence with the greater influence behind him in getting Lawless some honourable occupation that would give him a fresh start. There was use in the world for men like that. The idea grew in his mind and took definite shape. He decided to talk it over with Lawless when they met and then write home. Whatever his past, he merited some consideration for his present services. The impulse of the moment is no correct index to a man's nature, and only a crude sense of justice a.s.signs life-long punishment for the sins of youth. In Colonel Grey's opinion Grit Lawless had expiated his crime.

He went to the Smythes' that evening with his thoughts still revolving around Lawless' future, which quite suddenly had become of immense importance to him. It was his liking for the man, that strange unaccountable feeling he had had for him at their first meeting which, despite prejudice and later distrust, he had never managed to conquer, that made him so extraordinarily anxious to hold out a helping hand.

Simmonds, the man who was dead, had had a similar regard for him; and the boy, Tom Hayhurst, in a more exaggerated degree realised the magnetic attraction of his personality. Given a second chance. Colonel Grey was fully convinced that Lawless would carve out a future for himself of which no man need be ashamed. It remained for him to see that a suitable chance offered.