TWO ON SAFARI

Auckland Star, Volume LXVII, Issue 67, 20 March 1937, Page 12 (Supplement)

TWO ON SAFARI

CHAPTER XI. She rose and followed, accompanied him while he made call after call on officials, on the all-powerful head of the ; W.L.N.A., at the licensing bureau and the steamship agency. Late in the ' afternoon the car drew up before a building in the main square and Ballard disappeared up a cool flight of stairs. She waited and waited. At last she spoke to the driver. "Do you understand Eng ish?" He shook his head in denial. Sh<. remembered /hat the word hotel was tie sairin in most languages. "Hotel," sne said waving her hand, and repeated wearily "Hotel, hotel!" Evidently he understood but he shook his head again and pointed I with his chin up the stairs. At that I moment she recognised an approaching Swahili as having been in attendance on Mallory. Her ears had already taught her that boy is a generic term for all servants in Africa. "Boy!" she called. Ali drew near. "Yes, Missis." "Do you understand English?" "Ali understand English very well," he declared with a grin. "Find Mr. Mallory," she ordered. "Tell him I want to go home." Without hesitation Ali went up the stairs and presently returned. "Mr. Mallory playing cards," he announced through gleaming teeth, the words stunning her like a blow from a mallet. "He say you go home if you want. You like?" "Yes, please," said Josephine in a faint voice, her lips trembling violently. Ali gave the driver an order in Portuguese and ten minutes later she stepped from the car at the hotel and found her way to her room. The place was so stripped and neat she thought she must have made a mistake until her eyes fell on Mrs. Semster, sound asleep on the couch. Beside here was the disorderly tray which had contained her dinner, but it struck a lonely note. So thoroughly had everything been packed that the apartment had taken on the forlorn air of an abandoned habitation. Giving way to despondency, Josephine sat on the edge of the bed, but only for a moment. She glanced at her watch, sprang to her feet and started to tear off her clothes. "Mrs. Semster!" The poor woman came awake with, convulsive outflingings of her arms and legs. „ "Oh, miss, I didn't recognise you, said Mrs. Semster. She floundered forward, fell on her knees and proceeded to peel off the jodhpurs. "I've been waiting for these; you know they must be let down an inch." "You can do it while I'm downstairs. Do you mind running a bath for me— fairly hot? What dinner dress did you leave out?" "None, miss; it won't be expected. 1 can assure you Mr. Mallory won't think of dressing." "He has nothing to do with it,' said Josephine and added: "Get me out a frock." Half an hour later she descended alone and went directly to the table she had occupied with Mallory on the previous evening. The head waiter hurried to her side and she ordered a simple meal. He continued to stand at atten-

tion. . "That's all," said Josephine. *No you can send me a bottle of the sam wine we had last night." "You will await the gentleman? "Mr. Mallory is not coming." So far, while she had been in action she had had no time to notice what people were in the room. Now she became aware of other late diners and conscious of herself as a burning centre of observation. It wan nothing unusual to have people stare, but this was somehow different from all previous occasions. The air seemed to throb with questions. Whv was she alone? Was she as young as "she looked? Where had Mallory found he-? She wasn't the type. Too much breeding, too good-looking, too fresh for a spare tyre. Her cup of madrilene came just in time; a moment later and her poise | would have wilted under the strain, i She ate slowly, both because she was not hungry and from a desire to kill as much time as possible. He mind raced backward over the day —only a day, yet it seemed a week. Why? What had she done? Nothing but wait—wait in bed, in the car, on packing cases and in the car again— for Mallory. Then the final injury of down to play cards while she sat outside—small, mean. The man who could take that sort of revenge for a trifling insubordination would stop at nothing where more was at stake. Last night she had begun to tolerate him, but she had been wrong, she would not err again. So absorbed was she in her own thoughts that she was unaware of Kennicott's approach until he stood at her side. "Good evening, Miss Cascoden —or is it Casfolen ?" "Cascoden," °plied Josephine and added, "Mr. i .. -ott." | "Do you min my speaking to you I he asked. She looked up, struck by a change from his bantering manner of the previous evening. "Not at all. Won't you sit down. ° There's some wine left but I imagine you would prefer a whisky and soda." "No, thanks," he said, drawing out a chair and seating himself, "nothing to drink. Has Mallory told you my job." "No; he hasn't mentioned you. Why should he?" Kennicott eyed her thoughtfully, his habitual gaiety banned from his face. "I run the local office of the Eastern Telegraph and Cable Company. About a week ago we received a message addressed simply Miss Casfolen, Delagoa Bay, Since meeting you last night I had it repeated back for confirmation of address but the sender could not be located." "That was very kind of you," said Josephine. "Aren't you curious?" he asked. "Have I a right to be?" she countered. "I think so. At any rate, here's the cable. : lease open and read it. If you say the message is meant for you, we can consider it delivered." As Josephine took the flimsy envelope and started to break its seal her attention was caught by a figure just, emerging from the archway leading toward the hotel entrance. It took her an instant to recognise Mallory. He hud had a hard day, one of the hardest of his life, and as he approached she perceived that his eyes, usually so clear, were slightly bloodshot. Considering the usage to which his clothes had been put since morning they wou!d have been fairlj

By GEORGE AGNEW CHAMBERLAIN

respectable in any other surroundings, but against this background and in comparision with Kennicott's immaculate attire they verged on the disreputable. Feeling vaguely annoyed, she paused to wonder why she should care and forgot the message. "If you please," said Kennicott, reminding her, "until you read it we don't know whether it's yours." With Mallory standing by she tore open and unfolded the envelope. Her eyes perused the stencilled lettering slowly, then flew back to read the words again. Abruptly the colour left her face. For a moment she sat quite still —so still she seemed a statue that might never move again. Then with startling suddenness she began to tear the paper across and across. But while she could not control her blood she at least remained mistress of her voice. "Thank you," she said evenly. "The message was for me."

CHAPTER XII. Aboard the Ketch. Ballard Mallory stood transfixed, assailed by a dozen questions. He knew the impropriety of taking interest in other people's private correspondence, yet considered he had wronged himself by not snatching the flimsy out of Josephine's hands before she could destroy it. He ignored Kennicott, knowing the impossibility of prying open those lips, officially scaled, and stared at Josephine as though he and she were alone in the room. Still pale, she did not look up from making a careful heap of the torn bits of paper on her serving plate, but slowly her mouth took on a curve of disdain. Without warning she raised the plate and held it out to Mallory. "Since you want it so much," she murmured. "You can put the bits in your pocket and pa*te them together when you have time." He felt an impulse toward violence; snatching out his lighter he nipped it and set fire to the tiny heap. "Sailing time has changed," he muttered; "I'm leaving at midnight." Before she quite comprehended his words he had turned and was on his way to the door. She made a movement as if to rise, but promptly suppressed it, her whole nature in revolt at jriving satisfaction to the consuming curiosity of everybody in the room, includinj: Kennicott. Settling back, she raised steady eyes to his face.

"Mr. Mallory is an American," she explained. Kcnnieott leaned forward, his face expressionless, though his eyes were intent. "That's it," he began. "Can't you imagine how we Britishers feel " His eager words ceased, stoi>ped in midflight hy the sudden impact of her gaze. Her lips moved and for an instant he thought lie was about to get the rebuke of his life, but in the end she said nothing. He changed his tone, Itecame formal. "Can I be of any assistance, Miss Caseoden?"' "Oh, no," said Josephine lightly; "I think everything has been attended to." ''That's not what I meant and you know it," said Kcnnieott. "Do you care to leave the address of vour people?" "Xo." "In case further messages come, where do you wish them sent?" "There won't be /.ny." i "One more question. You seem to assume you're the only one who knows what was in that message. That's absurd, of course; half a do/en of us had to read it." "Officially," commented Josephine. "Quite. * Would you consider it an impertinence if I offered you a personal loan?" "Not necessarily," replied Josephine and added coolly," "How would I have to pa v?" Anjler lit in his eyes and cheeks. 'Certainly not with impudence." he said, rising. "I withdraw the offer." I "Too bad," said Josephine a* she also rose and started toward the door, so 'slowly that she drew him with her. "Couldn't you at least have '.eft it open?" "I don't understand you." -aid Kcnnieott as they reached the hall. "I've never met another English girl anything like you." "You speak as if I were a shock." "Von are." lie replied emphatically. "Then I'll give you time to recover. Good night, Mr. Kennicott, and thank yon." A moment ago he had started to turn his back on her. but now it was he who found himself dismissed. He stood in a daze, staring down the long hall at her disappearing figure. If she had so much as turned her head to right or left he would have followed and made a last attempt to crash through the wall of imperturbability. But she did not turn, for already he was gone from her thoughts. She reached her room and entered to find Mrs. Semster pacing up and down, wringing her hands in distraction. "Oh, miss, I thought you would never come—and he forbade my looking foi you!" "Why are these things on the bed?' asked Josephine, regarding the i<letitic«i garb she had worn throughout the day "It's what you're to wear in case vol still intend to go." I "Of course I'm going, but I don't can to be ridiculous. I'll wear a frock o a travelling suit." "Please, miss," said Mrs. Semste earnestly, "I knew you had no idea o what's before you. Don't go, miss, beg you. Stay here. Wait for liin I here." "If it's as bad as that," said Jose phinc, "I'll wear whatever you say." Nlio began disrobing thoughtfulh With Mrs. Semster's assistance sh donned the articles on the bed. the opened the larger of her two trunk and studied it carefully. Folding th black chiffon frock she had worn a dinner, along with its slip and her stock ings, she proceeded to pack them. "You can't! You mustn't!" cried Mr Semster. "Keep quiet!" ordered Josephin tucking the slippers into two corner slamming the lid and locking it siieces fully. She thrust the key deep inl her pocket. "What are you going I do about it?" "Nothing," sobbed Mrs. Semste "because I can't. I like you and IMI him. Yes; there's one thing I can d I've failed him; I'll give him back h five-pound note." "Oh, [ wouldn't, do that," said Jos phinc. "Give it to mo instead." SI y held out her hand.

The woman regarded her with unbelieving eyes. "Yoa mean it, miss?" "Indeed I do." Mrs. Spinster's sallow cheeks took on a mottled colour. She abstracted the note, tightly folded in a thin long strip, from inside the belt and handed it over. "I'm sure you're welcome," she gulped. At that moment there came a knock on the door. Ali entered, accompanied by two other Zanzibaris. They picked up the tin trunks and departed. Almost half an hour elapsed before Mallory put in an appearance, and during all that time Mrs. Semster ctntinued to weep softly while Josephine, her legs outstretched, smoked one cigarette after another. He glanced from girl to woman, his brows gathered in a frown.

"The wrong one is crying," he declared, then his eyes fixed on Josephine. "Come along, youngster; we're off." She flushed, hesitated for an instant, then rose and followed him through the door and out to a waiting car. Ten minutes later, though her experience with steamers was limited, she knew enough to feel a qualm at beholding the vessel she supposed was about to transport her up the coast. In the glare of clustered working lights, the huge sheds and gigantic electric cranes stretching into invisibility down the mile-long quay took on a grotesque appearance. Aided by the fact that the tide was low, and other ships much larger, they dwarfed the coaster into insignificance. During the rid© Ballard had said nothing; now, still wordless, he nodded for her to get out. She descended and waited while he paid the fare. She sensed a change in him quite independent of the change in his clothes. After a bath and a shave he had dressed in khaki shirt and riding breeches, terai hat, socks and boots laced half-way up the calf —nothing eke. No underwear, but as a concession to the chill ' of the night air he had put on a tweed jacket. The outfit gave him a businesslike air decidedly at variance with his pondering mcod, but going down the steep gangway from the wharf he roused himself sufficiently to turn and offer her his hand. She refused it, preferring to grip the stretched wire cables and swing herself down. To her surprise he led the way straight across the dick to a gap in the farther rail from which descended a Jacob's ladder. There he paused and drew to one side. "You'd better take it backward; it's the proper way." She stopped beside him and peered down at a boat which looked like the newborn offspring of the vessel on which they stood. "Why?" she asked, drawing back. "What do you mean':'' "That's it." said Ballard with a short laugh, "our boat. Cet aboard or they'll sail without you. Here, I'll show you how." He caught tin? guide ropes, Van down backward and stood looking up at her from below. "You don't have to! come if vow don't want to." ! -At the taunt her hesitation vanished Fixing her attention on imitating him exactly she tried to run down the banging ladder, missed the last three steps. but tumbled safely into his arms. He held her close for a mere instant in time but it seemed crammed to bursting with potentialities. Abruptly, as though at a command, his arms tinned cold and hard. He set her on her feet and 'ed her to a tiny oven-like cabin. "This is yours." he explained, "but you don't have to stay in it. Better not!" One look and she gave up all thought of dozing in privacy throughout the voyage. She followed him out to the deck again and wa • immediately dis- , traded by the hubbub of casting off. , Hawsers came hurtling down from the larger steamer to be promptly hauled in and coiled. Three tremendous hoots, out J of all proportion to the size of the little craft, announced their departure, and as ( toon as a clear stretch of water sur- ( j rounded them the tiny boat seemed to take on size. Jt was a deep-waist ed . vessel uitli a high poop amidships on which she and Ballard stood. Directly beneath them, occupying all the space between the poop and the rise of the prow, was a solid mass from which rose an overpowering effluvium. "Funny thing about those boys," commented Ballard. "On tiie way up to the Rand, somehow they don't seem to ' smell, but when they're headed for home " —phew!"

Only then did Josephine realise that the mass was composed of heads close together, their faces upturned, of arms and leys so interlaced as to cover every square inch of the deck. When one Kaffir moved so much as an arm or a knee, a wave seemed to ripple across the entire layer of human fle«h. Her nostrils dilated and then collapsed in a spasm of nausea; she hurried to the side of the ship. Ballard did not follow her. hut presently Ali, appearing from nowhere, opened out a long hammock chair almost as Hat as a bed. When she recovered, if only momentarily, Ballard came over, took her by the elbow, persuaded her to stretch out and adjusted (he head cushion. "Lie as Hat as yon can." he advised, "and look at the stars while they're still steady. You may not believe it. but you can yet used to any smell.'' She rocked her head from side to side and moaned. Jfe gave an order in a low tone and Ali reappeared to arrange a second chair parallel with and facing the first. Italian! reclined in it, close beside her. Feeling his presence, her hand groped toward him. He took it and immediately was overwhelmed bv a sense of her youth and childlike depend e. j "'Poor kid." he murmured, "you'll have to grin and hear it. There's nothing 1 can give you—none of those fancy things you read about really helps." Her fingers closed tightly over his as if all she asked was some tangible support as an anchor for her shaken courage. Her arm relaxed to lie full length, but her grip never lessened through all the hours till daylight. They had chuy<;ed the full length of the bay and he dreaded the moment when the little craft should bury her nose in the billows of the Indian Ocean, quiver from stern to stern, shake her head -'id roll. But with daylight and the open sea, swept bv the sweet breath of the northerly trades, .losephinc, to his amazement, quickly came to life. Her eyes cast upon her imprisoned hand a sin«>le bewildered look: (he next instant she had released it. Krce of him and her chair, she rose to stride boyishly the breadth of the tiny quarter-deck and back. 4 (To be continued Saturday next.)